Free Before the Snow by Danielle Paige Page B

happened. And everything had happened.
    Nepenthe didn’t say anything, which was an answer in itself. And it registered on Ora’s pretty face.
    All the things that Nepenthe wanted to say but could not rose to the surface, but did not come out. Lazar wanted someone who needed him. He and Ora had that in common. Nepenthe did not need him; she wanted him. There was a difference. She would not allow more than that. They both had their limits, their cages. He had broken through his. He said it was for her, but she knew it was for himself. She didn’t mind the lie. But she was not going to take the journey with him—no matter how handsome he looked when he asked.
    â€œHe loves you, Ora. What you saw—what you see . . . He remembered what happened all those years ago. And I was there. That’s all. It’s just a memory.”
    She nodded, seeming satisfied. But she didn’t let Nepenthe pass.
    â€œWhy do you want to stop him?” Ora asked.
    â€œBecause if he kills, he will be exactly what his father is.”
    Ora shook her head. “He will be justified. Just like you would be justified to take out whoever killed your parents.”
    Nepenthe had never heard Ora talk like this before. She didn’t know that vengeance ever had a place in her seemingly soft heart.
    â€œAre you afraid for him, or are you afraid for yourself, Ora?”
    â€œWhat do you even mean?”
    â€œMargot said that the King might be responsible for more than just your kidnapping.”
    Nepenthe felt the words sinking in with a sickening thud someplace inside. Her parents’ deaths had come on the heels of the ceremony that wiped Lazar’s memories, but she had never made a connection beyond her certainty that she had no use for the horrible things that humans were capable of doing to one another and to anyone or anything different from them.
    Nepenthe, stomach twisting, pulled her hand out of Ora’s grip and pushed into the room. Lazar was holding his father at knifepoint. His ice sword was an extension of his hand, and the sharp tip grazed the King’s neck.
    His father didn’t look scared.
    â€œLazar,” she said quietly.
    â€œI was just having a man-to-man talk with my father. It seems that he decided that Ora wasn’t worthy of me. So he thought he’d have her killed. So now I am going to kill him.”
    â€œDon’t!” Nepenthe yelled.
    â€œGive me one good reason why not.”
    â€œI need to know about my parents. You killed them, didn’t you?” she accused the King.
    At that, Lazar moved the sword an inch away from his father’s neck.
    The King laughed. He looked between Nepenthe and Lazar to Ora.
    â€œMy son, the witch lover. The prophecy never mentioned two witches.”
    â€œ I just need to know why. Why would you go after my parents? My mother helped you!” Nepenthe pressed on.
    â€œI wasn’t going after them. I was trying to get to you. I sent the soldiers after you.”
    The King was looking at Nepenthe. She realized that there was no such thing as Outlanders. It was a cover for any awful thing that the King wanted to do. But it still made no sense. Why this? She had been just a little girl then. Why would he want her dead?
    Lazar looked at his father with a new level of disgust and asked Nepenthe’s question for her: “Why?”
    â€œYou see, the prophecy says that if my son were to be betrothed to a witch then it meant death for me. I figured you were that witch.”
    â€œMy mother helped you. And you . . . Why bring me back here? Why now? Why are you so sure I am no longer a threat?”
    â€œI heard that you’d chosen the River. From what your mother told me about your ways, no witch has ever gone back on that choice. I thought we had escaped fate. But then you showed up with this pretty little witch and I was back to where I started.”
    He thought first me and then Ora was the witch in the