CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE ForgivenessI woke still tired and grumpy before dawn. No snow fell during the night and a waxy blue sky hung overhead. Already up and ready, Limah watched me from nearby, chewing on a crust of bread and scooping snow into his mouth to wash it down. “Eat something, Este,” he warned. “Today will prove long and arduous.”
“Perhaps I’ll stay here,” I teased, sitting so I could observe Limah’s expression. A shutter crashed down over his eyes and locked me outside. The chill in my bones paled in comparison to the one burgeoning in my heart.
“As you wish,” he said and turned away.
I rose in chastened silence and gathered my bag. Washing my face with snow proved enlivening, if unpleasant. I remembered the hot water from the labyrinth and wrinkled my nose. Imprisonment seemed a
