Thirty-Nine

 

Amani landed in snow, tumbling head over heels in a headlong flight he could not seem to stop until he hit something that knocked the breath from his lungs. If the snow hadn't been so deep, the fall would have killed him. As it was...he winced as he felt what had to be one, maybe even two cracked ribs.

He rose painfully to his feet, scanning the snow for something, anything. His portal, or the icy spires he'd glimpsed from the valley, but he saw neither. In a world of moonlit white beneath a still dark predawn sky, at least there was sound. His boots crunched through the snow, as the wind whistled off the rocks. And there was a dull roaring sound, just at the edge of hearing.

The waterfall!

Just like the floodwaters filling the river outside his castle, only vertical instead of horizontal.

He followed the sound of water, wishing with all his might that it would lead him to Briska. If he didn't find her here, he didn't know what he'd do. Where else he could search. How did you find one woman in a whole world of people? A woman who couldn't be found by magical means...

Amani's head spun, as though he'd run too fast, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath. The aftereffects of wine had never made him feel like this before.

And cold! Where had his furs gone? And his shirt? He must have lost them in the snow somewhere. At least his ribs hurt less in the cold. There was that, he told himself, as he trudged on, wrapping his arms around himself in a fruitless attempt to keep warm. He tried to conjure a cloak, a blanket, anything to keep him warm, but whatever had stolen his breath had stolen his magic, too.

What in all that was holy could do such a thing? If it was Kun, he would kill her. No magic necessary. He'd wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze until she stopped breathing. Nothing would get between him and Briska ever again.

Amani blinked. Was that...glass? He dragged his numb feet up to the wall and pressed his hand to it. No, not glass. Ice, stealing his remaining body heat as he tried and failed to pull his palm from the wall. Then he managed to get his other hand stuck, and Amani knew he was in trouble.

His whole body was numb. Death would come to claim him soon. At least he would meet his fate standing, for he could not lie down in the snow with both hands stuck to a wall.

He waited for the memories to come, the last thing he would ever see, to distract him as he passed into the next world.

As if on command, the best came first. Briska walked into view, as perfect as the first time he'd seen her. A marble statue come to life.

Yet this wasn't a memory. It couldn't be. For there it was.

Nestled in her hands was a lamp. His lamp.