The nights were cold.

Honora spent as much time camping out as she could. It had been three weeks since she’d left home. She’d make it two or three nights out in the dark before spending a night in a rented room to warm her bones. However, inns were fewer and farther between the more one distanced themselves from Loren. At first, she’d set out with a destination. But now, her destination was, mercifully, nowhere.

The numbing cold was, in its way, a blessing. As she sat near her fire, legs crossed and eyes clouded with fog, she let the frigid chill consume her. She sat there now, dropped deep into the darkness of her mind, entirely still and dead to the world around her.

Come to me.

Honora couldn’t contain her. No matter how close she got, she’d slip through her fingers; hiding in the recesses of her mind before stepping forward and overwhelming her. It was too much to hold; an entire lifetime, complete with emotions and opinions, trying to coexist with her own.

Gotcha.

Honora opened her eyes, and a phantom smile spread across her features. It was then that she saw her. Bryce.

You killed me.

The eyes that fixed on her were not Honora’s: not the cousin who loved her endlessly. They were Zahaela’s.

“You—”

Honora lunged for the phantom as if she meant to strangle her. As quickly as Bryce came, she disappeared, disintegrating and blowing away before Honora could get her hands on her. Finding nothing but air, Honora hit the ground, only then rising form her trance. Falling entirely back into who she was.

“Bryce?”

The name was met with nothing but howling wind. A dreadful knowing came over her, one that chilled her more deeply than any winter ever could. Despite the dark and cold, Honora immediately rose and gathered her things to return to Allemeade Keep.