Red Snow

Part 2

OR SORT OF.

He has the same dark eyes and hair. The same stubble on his rugged jaw. Very tight beige pants. No sword, but a gun holster. It's impossible to tell how tall he is because he's seated atop an enormous black stallion. In addition to the pants and holster, he wears a beige long-sleeved shirt with a five-pointed star over the breast pocket, an open vest with a startling number of pockets, a black tie, and knee-high black boots. As the Guardian, she's required to ascertain whether there is a real threat and if so, notify Claudia immediately. But he doesn't look threatening at all. He looks ... handsome.

Something blooms in Daphne's stomach. Her palms sweat. Her mouth is dry. Maybe her prince has finally come to rescue her. To kiss her, beg for her hand, and wisk her off to his mountaintop castle. That's the way it works in fairy tales. She throws on some jeans, a well-worn flannel shirt, and a white fleece vest.

If the potential intruder is a mere human, he will not be able to get through the wards let alone rescue her. How could she be so stupid? But if he's a witch sent to steal the apples it's far worse. Daphne pauses, her hand clutching the doorknob, heart pounding, breath tight, and glances at the salt circle where she would summon her mistress.

If the rival witch clans, the Berzakens or the Villards, wanted to trick the Guardian into complacency, sending someone in the guise of her most secret desire would be cunning. But how could they know her yearning when she's never told Claudia or even Eugene? Well, magic has its ways—that's what Claudia taught her. The witch has pulled thoughts from Daphne's head as easily as buttering toast.

However, if Daphne summons Claudia for nothing, there will be punishment. Gruel and iron water for days. No new books for months. The Mistress doesn't like to be disturbed from her Outside life. When Daphne was small, she used to make the mistake of summoning Claudia for the smallest things—the heartache of losing a pet, the pain of the dagger, or the paralyzing loneliness that fills her soul like liquid lead.

Daphne must make sure this person poses a risk. It's wise to gather information before calling forth Claudia. The best move would be for her to keep watch from the cabin using the mirrors and to stay close to the summoning circle. In the meantime, Eugene can go to the border and take action if there is any threat from the man.

She opens the door. A clump of snow falls from the eaves and lands on the porch with a muffled thump. "Eugene?" Daphne calls, not knowing where the snake might be out molting or napping or tormenting small animals.

"Hey, watch it," says Eugene, uncoiling on the doorstep to dislodge the snow.

"Sorry. But what were you doing here?" She glances over her shoulder at her rodent friends watching from the bed and closes the door.

"Always thinking the worst of me." Eugene tries to look hurt, but it doesn't work due to his perpetual snake face. "Besides, as you can see, I'm quite full at the moment." He shakes off the rest of the snow.

She chokes down bile. In the middle of Eugene's body, Daphne detects the outline of what must be the jackrabbit. To be polite, she doesn't mention her disgust. "So why were you here? Skulking."

"Snakes do not ever skulk, my dear. We slither, coil, undulate, and occasionally strike. But never skulk."

"You know what I mean. Spying on me."

"Spying? Well, it's my job."

Daphne always suspected that Eugene spied on her and reported to Claudia, but he never admitted it before. Something is different. He isn't acting normal. "I see. Well, Eugene." She crouches and brushes a bit of snow from his head. "What exactly are you not telling me?"

"A man has to have his secrets."

"I will uncover your secret eventually. Look, I'm sure you heard the alarm. There's a potential intruder at the perimeter. I'm keeping an eye on him from here and preparing to call Claudia if need be. Could you check him out for me? He's at the east end of the forest."

"Him?"

"Yes. Him. Why?"

"Nothing. Perhaps you should call Claudia now." He shifts his great bulk and moans.

"I think this is when she does her calming yoga. I'm not going to disturb her right now. We can take care of this. Will you do it?"

"Of course." He struggles off the wooden porch. "It may take me a bit longer than usual."

"Maybe lay off the large prey."

"I could go cannibal," he mutters, undulating across the snow.

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