Elurra awoke to someone shoving foul-tasting herbs down her throat. She gagged, sat up, and immediately regretted it. Her body burned as her wounds reacted to her movements. She moaned and choked on residual bitter flavors. The boy sitting beside her was so startled by her sudden consciousness that he dropped the bowl he was holding. She watched it clatter to the ground, its contents dusting the floor.

“You're awake!” he announced, gushing excitement.

“Where am I? Who are you?” she asked slowly.

She observed her surroundings and the boy standing in front of her with growing concern. The room was bare. The bed under her and the chair the boy was sitting on took up most of the space. There was another chair in the corner and a small chest, presumably for storing clothes and blankets. The air smelled like herbs.

The boy was clearly a commoner. His untidy mop of black hair covered his ears and was cut unevenly, making him appear raggedy. His clothes were worn, patched, and threadbare, and a few inches of his wrists were visible despite his long-sleeved shirt. A plain piece of white metal hung around his neck on a leather cord. His creamy, caramel skin starkly contrasted her pale complexion, and his speech sounded as if his words were connected with a thin silk string. However, his intense tanzanite eye color drew most of her attention.

“Don't you remember what happened?” he asked. “I found you ready to stab yourself in the middle of the road. I stopped you and then you passed out. What on Incari were you thinking?”

He didn’t bother to hide that he was studying her, and she felt uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. At once, she remembered her parents’ deaths and her nightmarish trek to Amora. She squeezed her eyes shut and took deep breaths, trying to collect her thoughts. She opened her mouth to try to give him a logical yet vague answer, then decided it was better to change the subject.

“What is your name?” she asked, wincing as she tried to twist her body.

He raised one eyebrow questioningly.

“What's yours?”

He pronounced his y's like u’s and skipped the h's entirely. In the end, it sounded like he was saying, “Watch ures?” She found the strange pronunciation fascinating.

“I asked you first.”

He sighed heavily, realizing that he wasn't getting anywhere.

“My name’s Terrin, and you are?”

She opened her mouth to answer but stopped to give a second’s thought to her situation. He had saved her life, but she didn't know anything about him.

How do I know if I can trust him?

She looked deep into his unusual eyes, searching for clues. Normally she could notice certain things about people immediately, like their feelings. Terrin was different. Elurra had to probe carefully for even a hint of the person within. He was foreign but vaguely familiar; it felt like she was looking through a foggy window. Even if he was trustworthy, Nitiri could have agents everywhere waiting for news of her death. It wouldn’t take long for word of a blonde eleven-year-old named Elurra to spread, considering her identity would be obvious to outsiders.

“I cannot tell you," she mumbled, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“You can't tell me your name?”

“It might endanger you.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Very well then...why were you trying to kill yourself?”

“I cannot say.”

“Why was the spider so important?” he demanded, irritation shaping his features.

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“It was dangerous.”

“Why?”

“I cannot tell you.” Elurra knew she was being rude. She was used to people leaving her alone. She was unprepared for this interrogation and felt completely out of her depth.

“Where did you come from? Can you at least tell me that?”

“No."

Elurra secretly found his annoyance amusing, as he was clearly exasperated.

“Is there anything you can tell me?”

“Let me think.”

She lifted one arm to stroke her chin thoughtfully; the small action caused her anguish, but it was worth the effort. She pretended to ponder the question for a few seconds. After the moment of silence, she murmured, “I guess there are a few things I can tell you without endangering your life.”

His eyes lit up with interest.

“What can you tell me?”

“I am a girl, and I have a lot of secrets.”

She tried her best to smother the smirk spreading across her face. He groaned in defeat and threw up his hands.

“If you don't want to tell me, then I'll figure it out for myself.”

“Terrin? Is she awake?” a deeper voice called from somewhere beyond the room.

“Yes!” he called loudly enough for the voice’s owner to hear.

Elurra heard footsteps coming up the creaking staircase. A few seconds later, the aged door opened noisily, and a tall old man entered. His stark white hair and beard reminded Elurra of the landscape in Lur Alava after a snowstorm. His face was stern, but his dark eyes were kind.

“I see you are with us once again," he said calmly as he pulled the other chair over and sat down. Elurra felt uncomfortable being the center of attention and tried to sit up, only to flop back down with a small yelp of agony.

“Please don't get up; you might hurt yourself further. My name is Ramer. I am the town physician. You were very badly hurt when Terrin found you. In fact, I wasn't sure if you were going to make it to the end of the week.”

“How long have I been here?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

“Almost two weeks.”

Elurra wasn't sure if that was good news or bad.

At least she has not found me yet, although she probably knows I am alive. Even the thought of Nitiri searching for her gave her shivers.

“Do you know how you got here?” Ramer asked.

Elurra's mind raced. She had to tell them something, but anything she told them could get her killed.

“I don't remember," she said quietly, making sure to use contractions. As a princess, she was taught never to use contractions because they sounded indecent, but now she thought they might help her seem more like a lost, helpless child.

“Do you know where you're from? You look like you're from the North. Are you from the Land of Snow?” His voice was gentle, but his eyes revealed a sharp mind and keen intellect.

“Maybe?”

She tried her best to look innocent and scared.

“Someone must be looking for you. I'm sure if we ask around—”

“No!”

Her unexpected reaction startled them. She hadn't meant to sound so forceful, but if they started describing her in town, they would lead Nitiri’s minions here. Terrin and Ramer were both staring at her in alarmed suspicion.

“No, please don’t. I...I don't want to go back. They did this to me." Elurra struggled to be as vague as possible. Terrin's face reflected his horror, but his father's face softened with sympathy.

“I understand. I could always use some extra help around the cottage, and Terrin does get lonely with only me to talk to. I don't see a problem with you staying for a while. We have one simple rule in this house: If you help with the chores, you earn your meal for the day. I don't expect you to do anything too taxing in your state, only a few light tasks once you start feeling up to them. Does that sound like an agreement?”

He spoke slowly, as if he feared she wouldn't understand what he was saying. She was used to being treated like a child, but his tone annoyed her. Still, he was offering safety and shelter. Even if she was opposed to staying with them, she had nowhere else to go. She nodded, and Ramer smiled.

“I'm glad that's settled. Welcome to our humble home. I'm sorry: I didn't seem to catch your name. What was it again?”

Terrin looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. Elurra’s mind scrambled for something to tell him besides the truth.

“My name is…Snow.”

Ramer smiled at her.

“What a beautiful name. I have work to do. Terrin, would you please fill her in on some of the chores she will be responsible for?”

“Yes, Ramer," Terrin answered.

Ramer nodded in approval and vanished through the door. Terrin turned to Elurra suspiciously.

“Snow isn't your real name, is it?”

Elurra grinned despite herself and shook her head.

He is bright for a peasant. I am going to need to be careful around him.

“I could tell Ramer you lied, you know," he said, his eyes focused on hers.

She stared back, holding in a threat she would throw at a servant who had the audacity to betray her. Looking into his eyes was like looking at a sheet of bare stone. She had no indication of what he was thinking.

“But you won't," she said, taking a blind shot in the dark.

“I could tell him right now. Why shouldn't I?”

“Please don't," she pleaded, unable to think of a better response.

She couldn't believe she was begging a peasant boy for favors. He studied her for a moment and sighed.

“I won't. I promise, Snow.”

Her new name slid off his tongue like silk, giving it an exotic sound. For some strange reason, Elurra believed him.