“Don’t you see, Trite? Don’t you see that I can take them from you?”

I felt a scream pulsing in my throat; that beastly strand of coaxing echoed with the cries of fallen saints.

I spun, eyes darting from shadow to shadow in the forest, smoke and torment burning my lungs. The wind picked up, and I was sure I would get sucked away into the abyss the sky had become.

“Where are you?” I called to Nightflesh.

“Helen! You have to fight it!” Kaley’s voice was beside me now. Everything spun and I swatted through the blackness to find her. Her hand grabbed my shoulder and instantly, my legs lost their feeling.

I was sprawled on the ground in a fitful sleep a second later. The last thing I heard was Eliot shouting, “My wife is ill! I demand assistance!”

ANOTHER INTERRUPTION

ANOTHER INTERRUPTION

A Measure of Seasons Ago…

The Red Holiday marked a full seven days on the season’s calendar. Prince Cane anticipated sweet bread and warm vanilla pudding with ice berries. He pressed his nose up against the glass to spy upon the bakers in the city, biting his lip in agony that he would have to wait until the Red Holiday began to be able to taste the treats. How unfair it was, that he should be forced to wait like the peasants.

“Leave it alone, Brother.” Forrester rolled his eyes as he passed, his ivory hair ruffling in the wind.

Cane grunted and left the bakery’s window. “They would hand over their pastries to us if we commanded them to,” he pointed out. “I don’t see why anyone would have to know.”

“What are you afraid of, Forrester?” Quinten adjusted his sliding coronet, scuffing his crow-black hair as he huffed to catch up.

“Snow frogs,” Cane answered, and Quinten snorted a laugh. “Forrester is afraid of snow frogs. I’ve seen it.”

Forrester glared back at Cane, purple eyes deadly. “Watch yourself, Brother. I know your fears too.”

Cane’s smile vanished.

“Now quit your nattering. We’re late for the draw.” Forrester broke into a jog past the last of the reindeer sleighs and reached the palace entrance first.

“Who do you think you’ll get?” Quinten asked. “I hope I get Driar. He’ll be easy to find a gift for. I’ll just take a book from the palace library.”

Cane rolled his eyes. “Don’t get him a book. He already reads too much.”

The ballroom smelled of cinnamon toast and hot jams as the boys trotted through, turning it into a race. Forrester breezed into the draw room first in complete silence, not bothering to hold the door for his brothers.