Chapter 7
The Gods and Their Anger
Rhosyn watched the storm from the safety of the fogged panes. She ran the edges of her satin sleeve over the glass for a better look. Snow and ice beat relentless songs against layers of the same, for the ground here never thawed before the next tempest struck. There might even be snowbolts this evening. These she’d only seen from Midnight Crest, hurtling past like boulders launched from the skies. Her mother said they were the angry tears of the gods. Rhosyn was weary of being told about the gods and their anger.
Heavy steps boomed in the corridor. She turned toward the sound and saw Oswin Frost embarking on the arduous task of layering furs to protect from the cold. His wife, the stewardess, was finally sleeping for the night, as was everyone else in
