Misa Moon's Arc

Chapter 8 of 10

By dusk the wind had teeth. Misa stood at the lodge door and watched the snow come sideways off the ridge. The lanterns above the porch burned steady, but their light stopped a few paces out. Beyond that, nothing. She knew there were still travelers on the paths. A woman with two children had passed a farmhand at the switchback that morning. A pair of trappers had been seen below the tree line at noon. None of them had come in. Misa turned back inside. Eira was folding cloths at the hearth. Hades stood by the window with their arms crossed, watching the snow the way they watched everything, as if it might be persuaded. "They won't see the lodge in this," Misa said. "The ink beacon is bright, but the storm is brighter." "Then we go out," Hades said. "We'd lose the path before we found them." She pulled her cloak on anyway. She stepped past Hades onto the porch and lifted her hands to the sky. She tried to call light the way she had traced the beacon into the timber, drawing a shape in the air with her fingers. The snow ate it. She tried again, louder in her chest this time, and the raven on her shoulder shifted down to her forearm. Wrong. She lowered her hands. Her throat closed. "I can't reach them," she said. "I built a door and I can't reach the road." A bell rang once, somewhere out in the white. Not a lodge bell. Deeper. Closer than it should have been. Blue light moved between the trees. It did not flicker. It walked. Misa stepped down off the porch. Antlers came through the snow first, tall as a rooftop, clear as cut glass. The stag that carried them was white and quiet and larger than any horse. It stopped at the edge of the lantern light and looked at her. Beside it walked a small figure in white and charcoal robes, hood pulled up, an antlered shape woven from frost above the empty dark of the face. Snow drifted around the figure without landing. Their lantern burned blue. "You're losing them," the figure said. The voice was even. "I'll bring them in." "Who are you?" "Nivalis." The hood tilted. "Warden. Keep the door open." The stag turned. Where each hoof pressed the drift, a print flared pale blue and held. Nivalis followed. The two of them walked back into the storm as if it were a hallway. Misa stood in the doorway with Hades at her shoulder. One by one, shapes came out of the white along the glowing prints. The woman and her children. The trappers. A man Misa did not know, carrying another on his back. Eira met them with blankets. Mabel had the kettles on. The lodge was full before the storm broke. Misa counted heads and found she had more mouths than beds.