Free Winterwood by JG Faherty Page B

quite possibly led Death to his family’s doorstep.
    Guilt-driven tears ran down his cheeks and froze, turning the creases in his skin into tiny, ice-filled ravines. He let them stay, each one a burning reminder that all actions have consequences.
    Ulaf rose, the rustle of his clothing unnaturally loud in the pitch black of the room.
    â€œIt is time.”
    â€œWhy bother?” The dull, lifeless tone of Anna’s voice made Anders want to wrap his arms around her and make everything all right. But he couldn’t. Nothing was all right, thanks to him. And it never would be, even if they found the children. She’d never forgive him.
    â€œThey might yet live,” Ulaf said. “Many pies the witch must bake, many cauldrons of stew she must make. You saw the children the Yule Lads brought. But that is not the only dungeon, so who knows how many others wait their turn.”
    â€œYou said only those who believe can be taken,” came Paul’s voice in the darkness. “There can’t be many people in our world who still believe in all this.”
    â€œOh, many there are. Especially the children.”
    â€œThis kind of hell isn’t what today’s children believe in,” Paul said. “For them, it’s Christmas and Santa and flying reindeer.”
    â€œDifferent words for the same thing. Believing is believing, no matter the name.”
    â€œSo it wouldn’t matter if our kids believed in Santa or your Holly King, the danger would still be the same?”
    The meaning behind Paul’s words was blatant, and Anders appreciated his son-in-law for it. A not-so-subtle attempt to let Anna know it wasn’t her father’s fault. He felt a new respect for Paul, but he also understood something Paul didn’t. Anna had inherited the Bach stubborn streak, and she wouldn’t let go of her anger easily.
    â€œChildren draw the cat and the Lads the way scraps draw crows. Any who venture outside during the nights of the Yule are fair game for them. Now come. Enough talk, if you want to find your boys. The King and his men will be in the throne room, and the witch will be busy looking over the bodies brought to her larder. We may be able to enter the kitchen unseen.”
    â€œMay?” The tingling in Anders’s body settled unpleasantly in his stomach. “You’re not sure?”
    The elf’s voice took on an ominous tone in the dark. “Warned you I have of the dangers. ’Tis likely as not we all end up in the King’s stew tonight.”
    â€œThere’s a comforting thought,” Paul muttered.
    Something brushed against Anders’s arm and he jerked away, belatedly realizing it was only Ulaf’s leg. Anders pushed himself up, hating the way his knees and back popped, the sounds of his age too loud in the quiet room.
    Just hold out a little longer, he told his bones. Once we’re safe at home you can stay in bed for a week.
    Ulaf’s boots pattered across the floor and the click of a latch being turned warned Anders to avert his eyes just in time to avoid being blinded by a narrow beam of light. He stood next to Anna and Paul and watched while Ulaf peered into the hall.
    After a pause that seemed to stretch on forever, Ulaf waved a hand.
    â€œCome. The stairwell is just around the bend.”
    The door opened wider, illuminating the entire storeroom. As he waited for Anna and Paul to exit the room, Anders glanced back and got his first real look at the frigid space where they’d been hiding.
    And gasped.
    â€œWhat is it?” Anna turned towards him.
    â€œNothing.” Anders stepped in front of her, blocking her view, and put his hands on her shoulders to turn her around. “Come. Let’s finish this.”
    The moment he stepped into the hall he pulled the door closed behind him. Not that it mattered. He already knew that what he’d seen inside would stay with him forever, visit him in his dreams until