Page 3 of The Veil of Hollow Gods

From her other pocket, she pulls a match meant for the wood stove. Vella wipes away the ice crystals from a nearby tree and strikes the match along the bark.

"You have to pull on the cigarillo to get it to burn," I say when she fails to light it on her own.

"Pull it?" The dark cigarillo bobs between her lips.

I demonstrate, pursing my lips and inhaling loudly. Vella nods and mimics me, inhaling just as long and loudly as I had.

She hunches over, coughing and sputtering and turning redder than her usual frost-bitten flush. I smack her back, remove the cigarillo from her lips, and take just as long a pull on it.

The warmth is near instant. It’s no wonder demon guards like this plant. It keeps their stupid hides warm while they’re on duty here. The looseness comes soon after, a nice subtle relaxation of mind and muscles.

Vella wipes the tears from her eyes. "They should send this along with our rations," she murmurs, tucking her arm in mine.

"Ha. Can you imagine?"

Vella stops short, staring at me.

"What?"

She lets out a slow breath as her gaze wanders over my face. "Nothing. I just—never mind." She stares at me for another several moments. "I want to show you something," she says finally and turns us around, heading deeper into the dark forest.

"We need to head back," I say.

The sun will set in a few hours and finding our way out of the forest and back to the village in the dark isn’t something I want to say I’ve done.

"We will," Vella coos. "But first I want to show you something. It won’t take long, promise." She grins at me, and I know I should tell her no and reiterate how important it is to get home before dark, but I don’t want to be the reason that smile slides off her face. "Okay."

Vella squeezes my arm and squeals with delight. "Come along. We must be quick."

Nothing but the pines live in the forest. No bird or mammal survived the sudden frost the Frozen King deemed we deserved a generation ago. But as we travel farther, the silence grows strange and unnatural. Like despite the wind, the branches refuse to touch each other for fear of being heard.

"Are you certain this is safe?" I ask Vella. "I’ve never gone this far?—"

She presses a finger to her lips and lifts her brow but continues onward.

It’s always strange after they take another woman. Vella takes on more of my responsibilities until my head is back to normal.

But this…

This is more out of place than normal.

"I think we should head back," I whisper, staring up at the darkening gray sky.

Vella simply shakes her head. "We’re almost there," she says, and though I want to protest, my wraithbloom-steeped thoughts have other opinions.

I’m too protective. It’s highly unlikely the guards will be in the forest, especially since they’ve already come this week. Vella deserves to feel some bit of freedom. I can give her that.

With no animals, there’s nothing dangerous in the forest.

Really, the worst that can happen is we get lost, can’t find our way back before dark, and freeze to death. Two less mouths to feed and two less bodies to keep warm.

Mother will be thrilled.

I chuckle to myself at the incredibly dark thought.

Vella stares at the side of my face.

"What?" I mouth.

She redirects her attention ahead. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before. Not in earnest, anyway," she whispers.

I don’t know what to say to that.

Blame the wraithbloom?

Vella sucks in a sharp breath. "You know, the legend of the Maiden is always about sacrifice and death, but I wonder sometimes if there isn’t another truth hidden within."

"Oh?" I ask, only half paying attention.

"What if we’re interpreting it wrong? What if…" She tr ails off, tapping her fingers together like she does whenever she has an idea. "What if it’s supposed to be about finding your own power or…or choosing your own way?"

"Yeah? Well, tell the demons. Maybe then they’ll stop killing us."

It’s slight, the amount her shoulders sink and posture deflates, by even under the influence of wraithbloom, I’d managed to yet again smother Vella’s spirit.

"We’re almost there." Her posture straightens as she takes us through a dense clot of trees, weaving between trunks and heavy, snow-laden branches. The icy forest floor seems to whisper beneath my feet, each rustle of needles a warning as I push farther, heart hammering against my ribs. Beyond the last tree, deeper in the forest than I’ve ever dared to go, the air thickens.

We should go back , the voice in my head warns as we climb a snowy hill. But I stay quiet.

I won’t take this joy from Vella. Not again. Not when there’s so little to go around.

But as we reach the peak of the incline, Vella’s secret comes into view.

A place so unnatural, so wrong, the sight of it drags the air from my lungs. My legs fold beneath me, and I hit the ground hard, my knees singing against the hard, frozen earth. I should run. Every instinct I have screams at me to turn back; to grab Vella and forget I ever saw this...

But I can’t look away.

It’s so lovely. So dangerous.

Flowers twist in colors that defy the spectrum of my frozen world, their petals sharp as blades and glowing faintly in the gray gloom.

Vines crawl up icy trees, with thorns glinting like teeth.

Fat, ripe fruits hang like heavy threats ready to burst and spray flesh and seeds all over this black fertile ground.

It’s beautiful—terrifyingly, impossibly beautiful—like staring into the eyes of a predator too lovely to flee from.

"What…what have you done?" The strangled words hardly make mist in the air.

Vella smiles at her creation, then back at me. "Isn’t it wonderful?"

My knees ache where the cold seeps through my skirts, but the pain sharpens me, clearing away the remaining fog of demon magic and wraithbloom.

"I’ve been tending it for the last few moons. Now we have juicy, wonderful things to eat and beautiful flowers and plants to look at."

Nausea roils in my gut, and I spring off my knees toward the lush oasis that shouldn’t be possible. The secret garden in the center of Tiriana’s tundra.

"We have to get rid of this."

I reach Vella’s garden, intent on ripping each leaf and petal and vine to shreds and burying them under a mound of snow, when a chilling, familiar voice circles around me.

"Now, now, what do we have here?"

Just like before, I hadn’t heard his approaching footsteps, but his deep, melodic voice fills all the space in me, leaving me as frozen and trembling as Tiriana herself.