Son of Death | II ✓ [ SAMPLE ]

chapter 2

five days later...

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"YOUR HIGHNESS! YOUR highness... Princess!"

I turned from my desk at the sound of the shrill voice belonging to the Spirit of Christmas, and shot to my feet. Phee-Phee's light flared at the sound as he sat preening upon one of his golden perches; embers falling to the marble floor.

"Snowflake?" I called. "What in the world is the matter?"

Because she had not yet entered the room, my voice had to travel the lengths of the hallways. The walls and ceiling trembled in reverence, and it made me start with horrible self-consciousness.

I had still not yet gotten used to my abilities as a full god.

"Kóri!" the Spirit squealed, the desperate sound nearing. Then there was a thud and a small whimper of pain. I ran to my front doors and searched for her, afraid that she had fallen.

...She had.

Snowflake had slammed stomach-first into a side table and was now hanging over it with her thin wings flared straight up, twitching. I drew a sharp breath when I realised that she had tried to fly all the way over.

Something was amiss. Snowflake never flew. Those wings symbolised a pain which she let no one but a few know. A pain she could hardly voice.

I rushed to her side and carefully lifted her up before I set her down on the floor, causing her sky blue netted skirts to bounce. She coughed and rubbed her frost-laced midsection, before looking up at me with stark cerulean eyes.

"Oh," she breathed, blushing slightly. "...I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You are out of practice. Why, may I ask, were you...flying?" I whispered, knowing that she would want to keep the incident a secret.

She glanced away and did not answer for a moment —before taking my bronzed hand in her small bone-white one. "It's really important," she stressed, beginning to tug me along. "I'm afraid that something awful has happened to Pumpkin."