ELEVEN
DESPITE ERALIN’S DESIRE to never see her again, finding the woman was Saig’s best option. Her old footprints, the ones she’d made getting here, stretched out into the distance. It was the only direction she had. She struggled her way through the deep snow, limping after those footprints until they faded into nothing under the falling flurry. Eventually, the snow stopped, making her way a little easier. Saig tried to use the direction of the sun to keep herself on track.
She crested a snow-covered hill. With relief, she noted that the vantage point gave her a view of the grove near Eralin’s home, off in the distance. She’d been a bit off-course, but her destination was in sight now, so it didn’t matter.
Eralin’s house came into view as she sloughed her way through the deep snow.
