Free Before the Snow by Danielle Paige

does,” Nepenthe commanded.
    â€œYes, yes. Just let him go. Don’t kill him. Please!”
    She released the boy. He fell to the floor and coughed, trying to regain his breath.
    The waiter continued his story. “They were on foot. They couldn’t have gone far. She wore a hood. I didn’t get a good look at her. But she paid with this . . .”
    He opened the money drawer and handed over a tiny coin.
    â€œ I don’t know what it’s worth, but the girl looked hungry and she was so pretty. I think I would have given them whatever they wanted.”
    Nepenthe took the coin, closed her fist over it, and focused her mind. And then she opened her eyes.
    â€œI know where they are . . .”
    The boy behind the counter choked up water and finally caught his breath. “Witch,” he said.
    She felt herself smile. The boy thought it was an insult. But it was the opposite. She turned to head for the door. Behind her she heard the sound of a blade being unsheathed.
    Glancing over her shoulder, she saw it was the bartender. He was back on his feet, holding a sword—a sword he would be holding forever. Lazar had frozen his arm solid to save her.
    There was a collective gasp as the mass of patrons ran for the door.
    â€œNepenthe, you were amazing,” Lazar said.
    But there was no time for compliments. They left the tavern with everyone else. Nepenthe charmed the coin with a Locator Spell, and they followed it through the yellow wood.

20
    The spell led them to a house—or rather, half a house. It was as if someone had carved off the face of the structure. It was open to the world like a dollhouse. The second story was lit up. And Nepenthe could feel magic emanating off it. A Protection Spell, perhaps.
    â€œWe’re here,” she said, stopping short in front of the building.
    â€œWhat are you looking at?” Lazar asked, frowning, as his eyes scanned back and forth.
    She realized then that he could not see the house. He might have magic, but he was a long way from being able to sense it or being able to use anything other than his Snow.
    â€œOra’s here in this house. You can’t see it, can you? I don’t have time to show you how, but you need to believe me. There’s a house right in front of us,” the River Witch explained.
    He nodded in agreement. Nepenthe felt a rush of something: trust. She hated that she liked his trust in her. That she knew he would follow her blindly.
    She raised her hand, and a light rain began to fall, revealing the outline of the house. Lazar appreciated the show of magic, and they stepped into the half house together.
    â€œIt feels warm,” he commented.
    â€œIt’s magic.”
    When they got upstairs, they found half a formal drawing room. The room was adorned with a sofa and a couple of chairs. A fire burned in the fireplace.
    And then they saw Ora.
    She was sitting in an overstuffed armchair merrily drinking tea. Across from her on the couch was the Witch of the Woods’s apprentice, Margot. Not an Outlander at all. Not even a stranger.
    Lazar raised his hands and made a trail of ice right toward Margot.
    â€œDon’t!” Nepenthe warned and headed him off with a blast of water.
    He looked at her, surprised. “Why did you do that?”
    â€œI know that girl. She’s a friend. At least I thought she was. What’s going on here?” Nepenthe said, taking in the scene.
    She could feel the cold radiating from Lazar. He was the icy equivalent of a powder keg ready to go off.
    â€œWho are you, and why did you take Ora?” he said, his steely eyes on Margot.
    Nepenthe had to push aside her own anger, her own water, to get at what was bothering her. Why would a former apprentice of the witches trick the Prince? It just didn’t add up.
    Margot ignored the Prince and turned her attention to Nepenthe. “It’s nice to see you again, Nepenthe. I see that your training has served you well.