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“He could have used some humbling for sure,” Gustav agreed.

“Did you ever ask my mother why she treated me so differently?” Though her mother had given her an explanation, she still wondered if anyone else had ever questioned it.

For a second, she thought he wouldn’t reply. “I did, on several occasions. She told me it was none of my affair.”

“And you didn’t press her on it?” Josslyn asked. “That doesn’t seem like you.”

“Actually, I did, and Calixte snapped at me. Told me that while what she did might appear cruel, she was preparing Avera for the future.”

“A future where I’d be ignored by people?” Avera’s sarcastically replied.

“She taught you to be self-sufficient. She encouraged you to be curious. She ensured you were well educated and could protect yourself. She raised you to be a future queen...” Gustav trailed off. “It’s as if she knew this would happen.”

“How could she know?” Josslyn scoffed. “No one expects to be killed by assassins and most certainly not her entire family.”

“Don’t be so sure. She told me more than once that when she died, she wanted me to watch over Avera.”

“Probably because she worried Aldrich would kill me.” Her brother made no bones of the fact he’d prefer she didn’t exist.

“Perhaps,” was Gustav’s low reply.

“I doubt she saw her own future, because on her death bed she lamented the fact she didn’t have time to tell me anything. Surely someone who knew she’d die would have made a better attempt to communicate before it happened.”

“Could be it happened sooner than expected. Or she hoped to change the future,” Josslyn opined. “If someone told me when I’d die, I’d be doing everything I could to avert it.”

A gust of cold wind swirled around them, biting the exposed parts of their bodies. Avera shivered. “That’s not pleasant.”

“And it’s just the start,” was Gustav’s grim prognosis.

He wasn’t wrong. As they began to climb, following a faint trail up the rocky terrain, the chill deepened, the day darkened. Snow went from a dusting on the ground to deep enough to leave a footprint and soon sucked at their feet, making each step a chore.

They’d stopped speaking, mostly because every breath tore at the lungs, the air so crisp it hurt. Avera’s lashes iced. The tip of her nose went numb, as did her toes and fingers.

The trek seemed useless. Why would her mother have told her to come here? Avera could see nothing of interest. No buildings, no people, no sign of life at all. And no end in sight to their climbing. The Spire went up and up. Looking back, she could see they’d only ascended a fraction of the mountain. How high would they have to go?

They stopped around midday, or so Avera assumed by the grumble of her stomach, since they’d long lost sight of the sun. The three of them huddled under a blanket Gustav pulled from his pack. With no wood to burn, they couldn’t start a fire to warm themselves.

After they ate, they resumed their trek. The swirl of white that swept across their path seemed like another snow squall until Avera heard Josslyn say, “So pretty.”

The mist had returned.

Avera went to grab Josslyn, only Gustav held on to her arm.

“Let her go.”

“You can’t be serious?” Avera huffed.

“She’s tied to us. We won’t lose her. Aren’t you curious to find out where the mist wants her to go?”

Avera gnawed at her inner cheek. “Yeah.”

“Then why not let her lead us? Could be we’ll find those who went missing.”

A chance to rescue the townsfolk did appeal... If they were alive.

“First sign of danger, I’m slapping my hand on her,” Avera warned.

“First sign of danger, you and my sister are to run.”