Page 120 of Reaper's Quest

Aside from locating Chace, this woman remained the one individual I had secretly plotted toeventuallyfind in the underground labyrinth. And now that I had found her, I could do nothing more than cling to Winter and hold him against the frost taking over his body.

Watcher barely spared me a glance as she beckoned the specters to follow. And follow they did, like well-trained dogs. She spun around and trudged into the sweltering tunnel, disappearing and taking the ghostly demons with her. When the shadows once more enveloped all but a sliver of her outline, she swung her gaze to me.

“It was supposed to be you,” she said.

Not him. Not Winter.

“You won’t be so lucky next time. Especially with him no longer around to protect you.” She slipped into the black, only the slight crunch beneath her boots marking her departure. “I warned you. Told you to leave. You should have listened.”

Her voice, moving ever more distant, carried through the darkness.

Even if I should have been the target, I supposed I should be thankful for the save. After all, the mad female had stopped the specters’ attack. But had she done so in time? Was whatever they’d inflicted on him reversible?

I shifted and pulled back to better evaluate Winter. His skin felt both freezing and clammy in uneven patches, his body rocked with slight shudders, and his eyes?I peeled back his lids?either glazed white or rolled back in his head. Conditions in which to assess anything were difficult, yet I felt fairly certain he was in worse shape than Earl or Myla.

Had they both started like Winter and then gradually improved? I thought back to the female Aldine had attempted to save that first night in the citadel, gaining my likely answer—no.

But where Aldine had failed, I had succeeded. Only the how remained uncertain.

How did I cure that woman?

I’d held my hands on the woman’s skin while activating my innate reaper tools.

Where exactly did I touch the woman?

Acting on my best guess, I placed my palms on Winter and activated my reaper’s grip and collector’s eye in unison. Concentrating on summoning healing, I opened my inner energy channels and handed over control to my reaper tools.

Please work. Please work.

My skin hummed, the atmosphere crackled, and Winter… He didn’t respond.

“Come on.Work.” I stretched my hands wider, pressed my thoughts harder.

Try as I might, no amount of effort proved fruitful. Winter remained unchanged and unresponsive. He had become a shell of impenetrable ice. As if he were not only partially devoid of life like Earl and Myla but encased within a coffin of his winter magic.

He’d saved me, saw me healed from incredible injuries, and now, in return, I was failing him. I needed to get him out of the tunnels and back to the surface where I might find help.

“Winter? Can you stand?” I tried to pull him to his feet, but he was too large and too heavy. “Please answer me. We need to get out of here. Get you back to the surface where we can get you help.”

He hung, unresponsive, like a rag doll in my arms. A rag doll with the weight of a hundred sandbags. I gently laid him upon the tunnel floor and sat back on my haunches, staring at him while I chewed my lower lip and considered. Considered the situation, what I would have to do—alone—and how deep into the tunnels we had traveled.

Exhaustion burrowed down to my soul, and aches plagued every part of my body. Winter had been right with regard to me requiring more time to recover. But none of that mattered now.

I glanced at the burning torches tossed at the end of the tunnel then back to Winter. He no longer held any awareness of what was what, and I was done pretending for the sake of a world that was a hundred years behind the times.

I pulled a small electric lantern from my pocket, where I always kept it, and flipped it to full illumination. Flashed the light in both directions. All appeared clear.

As hot and miserable as I now felt, I needed to getmoving. Winter depended on me, even if he didn’t yet realize it.

I uncoiled to a stand, and when I did, the edge of my boot brushed against the same something it had earlier. A canvas bag hidden in the alcove shadows. I checked the contents?matches, a skin of water, a sliver of charcoal, and a small notebook. Most of the pages remained empty, but a few hosted notes and scribblings marking tunnel locations and connections.

Why had someone left it here?

Based on a handful of the notes, someone had been observing the barrier through which Winter could not pass, but I could.

Who and why?

Understanding anything and everything might come in handy on my long trek back, I tied the bag to my belt, then I hooked my arms under Winter’s armpits. Hunched over, with my back aching, I began dragging him toward the pub, walking backward with short steps, the electric torch in my hand lighting where I had been rather than where I headed.