“What‟s your name?”

Serena‟s eyes had been trained on her hands, which

rested in her lap. At the sound of the voice, she looked up

from her seat on the wooden bench that lined the stone

corridor.

“Excuse me?” No one ever addressed her. Surely the

boy in front of her with the soft brown eyes was talking to

someone else. “Who, me?” Her hand fluttered to her heart.

“What‟s your name?” he asked again, crossing his arms.

“I‟ve seen you around the castle and no one will tell me your

name.”

“I‟m Serena,” she said. She tucked her long, blonde hair

behind her ears.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Seven.”

“I‟m nine.” The boy broke into a grin. “I‟m Brendan. I

mean, Prince Brendan.” He rolled his eyes. “Father says I

should tell people I‟m „Prince Brendan‟. He‟s kind of driving

me nuts.”

Serena felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. One

look at the castle guards – who were all glaring at her – wiped

it away. She dropped her gaze back to her hands, and her hair

fell, forming a curtain around her pale face. “Pleased to meet

you, Your Highness.” Should she stand and curtsy? Since she

had been instructed to sit and not move, she supposed she had

better obey orders.

Prince Brendan threw his arms up in the air, startling

the guards into even more rigid attention, if that was possible.

“See?” he yelled. “That‟s what I‟m talking about! I don‟t want

people calling me „Your Highness‟ and things like that.”

“OK, OK.” Serena held up her hands in defense. “Just

Brendan.”

“That‟s better.” Brendan settled down. He sat on the bench

next to her and slouched against the wall. “Do you live in the

castle?”

Serena shook her head. “My mother and I live in the

mountains, on the northern border of the kingdom.”

“Do you have a father?”

No.

“Do you have any brothers? Sisters?”

Once again, no.

“Me neither. I‟m an only child. I‟ve never been in the

mountains, but I‟m going soon.” He faced her, lifting his chin

and puffing out his chest. “Father says they aren‟t safe. But I‟m

not afraid of anything.”

Brendan popped up off the bench, unsheathing the

short sword he carried in a scabbard at his side. He swung at

imaginary enemies, parrying and thrusting until they were all

vanquished. The guards watched, amusement dancing across

their faces.

Serena watched until the last invisible enemy was

disposed of. She shrugged. “I‟ve lived there all my life, and I‟ve

never felt unsafe.”

Brendan sheathed his sword and looked at her, wide-

eyed. “Who protects you up in the mountains?”

Serena rose to her feet, looking him up and down, her

hands curling into balled fists. “We protect ourselves.” She

lifted her chin and met his gaze.

In his whole life, no other child had stood and faced

Brendan as Serena was doing. When he was four, a nobleman‟s

son had bloodied Brendan‟s nose while they were wrestling in

the muddy courtyard after a spring rain. The boy had been

punished and his father relocated – asked to manage an estate

that had fallen into disrepair on the edge of the kingdom. It

had been driven into the minds of the boys of the court that to

play with the prince could spell disaster for their families.

The girls of the court made pains to avoid him. Appearing

too interested could cause division in their elaborate hierarchy

– made up of ranks only they seemed to understand. They

huddled in groups, each hiding behind her hair, sneaking looks

at him and giggling as he passed, venturing a “Hi, Prince

Brendan” in unison.

Serena‟s boldness surprised him into silence. They eyed

each other. Neither knew what to say.

After a moment, Brendan‟s eyes narrowed. “Wait.” He

held up an accusing hand. “You have no father, no brothers.

You live in the north, so your mother isn‟t one of the

courtiers.” He ticked off these facts on his fingers. “What are

you doing in the castle, then?”

Before Serena could answer, a hand rested on Brendan‟s

shoulder.

“Her kind comes when they‟re called, Your Highness.”

Brendan‟s tutor stood at his side. While he directed his words

toward the prince, he kept his eyes trained on Serena. “I

wouldn‟t pay…” he sneered, looking Serena up and down. “…

This creature any mind.”

“Jeffrey.” The king‟s voice cut in before the tutor could

say more. He strode through the ornate wooden doors, larger

than life, his cloak trailing behind him. Hedda, Serena‟s

mother, was with him, her hands at her sides and her face

almost unreadable. They were flanked by the king‟s guards.

“Hedda is a distinguished member of my Council and, as such,

deserves your respect. I do not take it lightly when I hear

derogatory remarks made toward her or her daughter.

Especially by those employed in my court.”

Jeffrey focused his gaze on a crack in the stone floor.

“Yes, Your Majesty. A thousand apologies.”

The king turned to Brendan. “Wandering the castle

when you should be studying?”

Brendan‟s cheeks flushed. He hung his head, fingering

the hilt of his sword. “I‟m sorry, Father.”

“Back to it, then.”

“Yes, sir.”

Brendan slunk toward his rooms, Jeffrey hot on his

heels. The king turned his attention to Serena, who was

hunched over, wishing she could sink into the floor. Preferably

straight into the dungeons, where no one would ever find her

again.

“Serena.” The king‟s voice was stern, but warm.

“Your Majesty.” This time, she did curtsy.

“I‟m sorry, child, but it seems I have one more item to

discuss with your mother.” He motioned for a guard to escort

Serena out of the building. “Wait by the fountain in the

courtyard.”

Serena curtsied again, and keeping her eyes on the floor as

Jeffrey had, left the castle to wait. Once she was gone, Hedda

spoke.

“Your Majesty, I am so, so sorry,” she began, but the king

interrupted her.

“Let it go, Hedda.”

“I didn‟t realize she would bother the prince. It won‟t

happen again.”

“Let it go.” The king held up a hand, shaking his head, then

started down the hall, motioning to her. “Walk with me.”

Hedda was tall for a woman, as tall as the king. She paced

him, her head held high.

The king glanced at her. “Does Serena have friends? Any

children to play with?”

Hedda started. “Are you joking, Your Majesty?” She looked

at him out of the corner of her eye, under a darkening brow.

Her earrings brushed her neck. “Playmates? My daughter?

What parent would allow it? They see her hair – the paleness

of it. They don‟t have to look her in the eyes to know what

color they are.” She grew louder, finding it difficult to control

her emotions. “No, she most certainly does not have

playmates.”

“Your anger is misdirected, Hedda.” The king‟s voice

contained a warning, and Hedda murmured an apology. He

continued. “There are many who don‟t like that you sit on my

Council. They would rather I ask you to leave my kingdom

than have you as an advisor.”

“People like Jeffrey?” Hedda stood still.

The king sighed. “Jeffrey‟s an ass.” He placed a hand along

her back and guided her along. “In eight years, you‟ve never

given me a single reason not to trust you.” They turned down

another corridor. “I don‟t want you to feel like Serena can‟t

come to the castle when we hold conference or that she has no

place in the fields and on the hillsides of this kingdom, like any

other child.”

“Of course,” Hedda said. “You‟ve always shown her

kindness.”

“Brendan doesn‟t have friends, either, you know.”

Hedda raised an eyebrow at that.

“Oh, he has his hangers-on and those who fancy themselves

his friends, don‟t get me wrong.” The king‟s smile was grim.

“But real friends? No.”

This thought saddened her. “Your Majesty, I didn‟t

know.”

He held up a finger. “I won‟t prevent Brendan from

getting to know Serena. I think it might be good for him. For

both of them, actually. In many ways they may be the only

ones who can understand the other.”

Hedda stopped in her tracks, and stood up even straighter

than before, causing her earrings to sway. “What exactly are

you saying?”

The king sighed again. “They‟re only children, Hedda.” He

turned, giving her his full attention. “What I am saying is that I

will not prevent the son of the king from becoming friends

with the daughter of a sorceress.”

They stood in front of the great iron doors that led to the

courtyard. The king himself reached out, opening the door for

Hedda. He bid her good day. Hedda, stunned, found she was

standing in the courtyard, blinking in the bright light of the

midday sun.

Serena sat on the edge of the fountain, staring at the doors.

When her mother appeared, she dropped the lock of hair she

had been chewing and stood. Hedda strode toward her and

held out her hand to the girl. Serena slipped her hand into

Hedda‟s, and the two continued through the courtyard to the

castle gate, trailed by a guard.

“Am I in trouble, Mother?” Serena‟s eyes brimmed with

tears.

“Shh.” Hedda squeezed her daughter‟s hand. “Of course not,

darling.”

They passed through the gate. “But that man, the tutor; he

was horrible.”

“Never mind him,” Hedda said. “I hear he‟s an ass.”

Serena smiled a bit, causing tears to spill over onto her

cheeks. “Who said that?”

“You‟ll never guess.” She leaned over, kissed Serena on top

of the head, and whispered in her ear. “The king told me.”

Serena giggled and wiped her cheeks.

“Come on.” Hedda swung their hands together. “We‟ve got

a long walk home.”

A few days later, Serena was picking flowers on the southern

slope beneath the Winged River, when she saw Brendan riding

by on his horse. He was alone.

Perhaps he would pass on by and ignore her as so many

others in his father‟s kingdom did. She wanted to talk to him

again, but was afraid. Would he make fun of her? Tease her?

Torment her?

He saw her and waved, redirecting his horse toward her. Her

heart was pounding. Brendan stopped about five yards away

and dismounted, watching. She kept her head down, trying to

focus, even though her attention was fixed on him.

“No tutor today, Your Highness?” She stole a glance at him.

“I told you – call me Brendan.” He grinned. “No tutor. No

guard, either. I‟m getting better at this sneaking out business.”

A smile twitched across her face. She said nothing.

“Is it true, then?” he asked.

“What?” Serena turned to look at him and dropped her

basket on the ground. “Is what true?”

“Is it true that your mother‟s a sorceress? And that you are,

too?”

Serena felt like the air had been squeezed out of her. She

turned away from him, facing the direction of the sea, however

far away it was, and clutched her stomach. He was asking the

question that she saw on the faces of everyone she came

across – a question everyone carried and no one ever dared

ask.

He came and stood next to her, whispering. “It is true.”

Serena could only nod. Brendan tethered his horse, pulling a

stake from a saddlebag and driving it into the ground. The

horse began to graze.

“What‟s it like?” he asked, throwing himself on the ground

and leaning back on his elbows.

Serena sat next to him, her legs folded under her skirts.

“What‟s what like?”

“Having a sorceress for a mother.”

She studied him, looking for any signs of teasing or malice.

His brown eyes were honest and curious. That was all. “I don‟t

know.” She shrugged. “What‟s it like having a king for a

father?”

Brendan lifted his face toward her, shading his eyes from the

sun. “It‟s all kinds of terrible. No one looks at me. But when

they do, they see my dad, not me.”

Serena sighed and flopped on the ground, too. “That sounds

exactly the same as having a sorceress for a mother.”

Brendan watched her. She laced her fingers behind her

blonde head and watched the clouds race across the sky. He

leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head as well. The

horse, attached by its tether, snorted occasionally to rid its

nose of kicked-up pollen.

“Hey.” Brendan turned, squinting at Serena. “Can you do

magic?”

She frowned. “I think so.”

“What do you mean, you think so? What can you do? What

kind of magic?”

“Actually, I‟ve never done any before.”

“Why not?”

“Rules.” Serena gestured toward him with her hand. “Your

father doesn‟t allow us to use magic without his permission.

And Mother hasn‟t worked with me yet. She says I‟m too

young.”

“Oh.” They lay in silence, staring at the sky, each lost in their

own thoughts, until Brendan grabbed her by the hand. “What

if they didn‟t have to find out?”

Serena stopped breathing. She was so surprised, she didn‟t

know what to do, and so she let her hand sit there clenched

between his fingers. After a minute, she exhaled and narrowed

her eyes. “What are you saying?”

He jumped to his feet, pulling her up with him. “What if you

tried to do magic? We could keep it a secret – Father‟d never

have to know.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Oh, come on!” Brendan let her go and whirled around in a

circle, clutching his tunic above his heart. “Well, I want to see

you do magic. You must want to do it, too.” He looked at her

– her blonde hair floating in the wind; her clear blue eyes, wide

as saucers at the moment. She was beautiful. “It must be

killing you to not be able to use it. Don‟t you just want to

scream?”

He was right. She felt like an outsider, even to herself. The

looks and whispers of others didn‟t help either. But he was

scaring her. Practice magic? What if the king found out? What

would happen? She had no idea. Instinctively, she stepped

away.

“No.” She shook her head. “I can‟t.”

“Serena, please.” He walked toward her, leaning over to look

her in the eyes. “I swear to you, I will never tell. It will be our

secret. Just you and me. We can do this. Together. You and

me.”

“You and me.” She echoed his words, liking the way they

sounded.

“Just try one thing – something small.”

Serena looked around, trying to think of something. The

wind whipped her hair across her face and Brendan‟s horse

whickered. An idea came to her. She smiled, and closed her

eyes.

“What are you – ” Brendan began.

“Shh!” Serena said. “Let me think.” She pressed the heels of

her hands against her eyes and stood like that for a very long

time.

It was all Brendan could do to keep quiet. He stood as still as

possible, fidgeting from one foot to the other, but he dared

not pace. He began to bite his nails.

Finally, Serena dropped her arms and opened her eyes. “OK.

I‟m done.”

“What?” Brendan looked at her. She looked the same. “What

did you do?”

Just then, his horse nosed him, nudging his pockets, looking

for a treat. Brendan whirled around and grabbed the animal by

the bridle. “Willow? What in the? How‟d you get off your

lead?”

Serena‟s hands flew to her mouth, covering her giggles.

Brendan whipped around, looking at her. “You did that?”

Her face was flushed and she nodded. “That was fun.”

A slow smile made its way across Brendan‟s face. “Nice

trick.”

“Let‟s do it again,” they said in unison. They both laughed.

They met again in the same field. They met on the beach,

around the bend from the mouth of the river, away from the

fisherman with their nets and gossipy wives and smell of fish.

They met in the woods at the base of the northern mountains,

near Serena‟s home, and traipsed all over the forested slopes.

Serena was afraid her mother would find out what they were

doing. She didn‟t want to draw suspicion to her activities, and

she felt so bad for being gone, that she made sure to help

around the house as much as possible. This had the added

benefit of her acquiring much more knowledge about her

craft, as she paid closer attention to things that escaped her

before. Hedda had always let Serena read her books, but the

girl found that her mother had a way of moving, speaking, and

attending to even the most mundane of tasks. Serena realized

that, despite the king‟s prohibitions, her mother did indeed use

magic all the time. It was more of a way of being for her than

it was a conscious act. Hedda could no more stop practicing

magic than she could stop breathing.

When Serena was fourteen and Brendan sixteen, he asked

her to spar with him using her magic against his sword. She

was rather frightened at first and balked, but he was convinced

that she was ready. It was true. She was ready.

They started with simple spells. He deflected them easily

enough. They attempted more complicated maneuvers.

One winter day, they climbed through the forest near her

home. Snow blanketed the lowlands, but under the close trees,

only patches of snow dotted the ground. The midday sky was

dark and the air was thick with the static that precedes a storm.

It made Serena nervous. She had no mittens and shivered

under her shawl as they walked.

Brendan noticed. “Are you cold?” He shook off his overcoat

and threw it around her shoulders.

Serena chattered her thanks to him and pushed her arms

through the sleeves. The coat engulfed her – the cuffs hung

past her fingertips. It radiated warmth. Grateful, she breathed

in deeply – it smelled like him. With numb fingers, she

fastened the buttons.

“How much farther do you want to go?” Serena asked.

“There‟s a storm coming. I don‟t want to get caught in it.”

Brendan was in front. He turned around and grinned, one

hand on the hilt of his sword. “What? Are you afraid we won‟t

find our way back?”

They knew this mountain as well as they knew their own

quarters. Serena forced away the smile forming on her face.

“Well, I suppose now that I have your coat, I‟m ready for the

snow.” She held up the oversized sleeves and lifted her chin.

“Never mind. I take it back.”

He laughed. “Let‟s get to where the ground levels out, and

then we‟ll practice. I don‟t want to stay long either – I‟ve a

longer ride home than you, provided my horse is still there

when we get back.”

Serena giggled.

They didn‟t have much farther to walk. When they stopped

climbing, Brendan pulled a secondary sword out from under

his coat and tossed it to Serena. Her hands, hidden under the

cuffs of his coat, were cold and clumsy, and she dropped it.

“Can‟t use your magic to get it to stick?” Brendan teased.

“I can‟t read your mind, if that‟s what you mean.” She flicked

her head, whipping strands of hair over her shoulder.

“Good.” He winked at her and covered the distance between

them in a few short strides, picking the sword up off the

ground. When he stood, he was so close that he couldn‟t focus

on both her eyes at once – his gaze kept darting from one of

her eyes to the other.

She felt his warm breath on her cheeks; her heart was racing.

They had stood this close many times while sparring. Why

should it so unnerve her now? She blinked and shook her

head, breaking the trance.

Brendan backed up, swinging the sword down low in an arc.

He flipped it over in the air and held it by the blade, presenting

her with the hilt. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Of course.” She felt sluggish in Brendan‟s coat, so she

shrugged out of it and laid it across a large rock. That was

better. She took the sword with trembling fingers.

Brendan drew his own sword from his scabbard, and backed

up even farther, cutting circles in the air. She faced him and he

came swinging at her right away. She lifted her blade to meet

his, smiling. Fighting put her at ease. After a while, Serena

tossed him the sword, which he caught neatly, and turned

aside to blow into her hands, trying to warm them. It would be

hard to use magic when her hands were so cold.

Before she knew what was happening, Brendan stood right

in front of her. “Let me help,” he said. He took her hands in

his, rubbing her fingers with his thumbs.

Serena felt caught, like a rabbit in a snare. “I‟m fine.” She

backed up, tripped over a root, and landed hard, wincing.

Brendan chuckled, and reached down, pulling her to her feet.

Her balance was unsteady and she found herself struggling for

footing, yet held solid in his grip. She focused her gaze on his

collar, avoiding his eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Shall we practice?”

Something changed in his face. He let her go. “Fine.”

Brendan turned and walked several yards away. He

stopped and faced her, his sword held at the ready, waiting for

her first spell.

Serena didn‟t move. She felt a bit unhinged, not sure

what was going on or why everything felt off today. Perhaps it

was the pressure of the coming storm. They sky only seemed

to get darker. They should practice and be done and get home

before the snow started coming down.

She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to

focus. When she opened them, she cast her first spell toward

Brendan. He swung his sword, deflecting it easily.

She threw another, which he sliced away, and another.

“Is that all you‟ve got?” he asked, swinging his sword in

one of his circles.

Serena found herself hoping he would nick his ear, just for

the change of pace. She didn‟t answer him – just gritted her

teeth and cast another spell. He knocked it aside. She swore

under her breath.

“Come on, Serena!” he yelled. “Don‟t make me come

over there!”

She threw one spell after the other, none of them

connecting well, all of them too easy for the young prince.

With each one he deflected, he took a step toward her. She

kept casting, and he kept walking, until he was close enough

that it was unsafe to use his sword. Breathing hard, she gave

up. They watched each other for a few moments, arms at their

sides, neither speaking. Serena found she was shivering again.

“What‟s wrong?” Brendan put his sword away, took her

hands in his and held them up to his chest. “Still too cold?”

He pressed her palms against his velvet over-tunic and covered

her hands with his own.

“I‟m fine,” she began. “I mean, yes, I‟m a bit cold, but…”

She felt flustered and began again. “Brendan, what are you

doing?” She tried to pull her hands away, but he held them

fast. “Please.”

“What?” he asked.

“My hands.” She tried to pull them away. “May I have them

back, please?”

He considered this then shook his head. “I don‟t think so.

Not until you tell me what‟s going on.” He leaned closer. “You

haven‟t been this easy to beat in months.”

“Me tell you what‟s going on?” She stared at him, mouth

agape. “I could ask you the same thing. Since when do you

give me your coat? Or take my hands? Or help me off the

ground when I fall? If anyone is acting strangely today, it‟s not

me, it‟s …” That was as far as Serena got, because right then

Brendan leaned forward and kissed her.

It didn‟t last long. As soon as Serena realized what was

happening, she pushed him away.

“What is WRONG with you today?” she yelled at him,

wiping his kiss from her lips. She was trembling and wrapped

the loose ends of her shawl around her shoulders, hugging her

arms.

Snow began to fall. They both looked up at the sky. Brendan

held up his hands to catch flakes, which melted as soon as they

touched his palms.

Serena raised her shawl to cover her head. “Let‟s go,

Brendan.” Her throat ached and she was afraid tears would

spill over at any moment. She didn‟t want him to see her cry.

He lowered his face and looked at her. She couldn‟t read his

eyes.

Brendan sighed. “There‟s nothing wrong with me, you

know.” He ran a hand through his hair, knocking off

snowflakes. “There‟s a beautiful girl standing right in front of

me. Who wouldn‟t want to kiss her? There‟d be something

wrong with me if I didn‟t try.”

“Stop it.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I mean it.” The tears spilled over, betraying her. “Just…

stop.”

“Why?”

“Who would want to kiss me?” She couldn‟t look at him; tear

tracks ran down her cheeks. “No one, Brendan, that‟s who.

I‟m a sorceress, remember?

“I know what you are.” He took a step toward her. “I don‟t

care.”

“Don‟t.” She held up her hand and glared at him, swiping at

her face with the edge of her shawl. “Don‟t do this. Did you

know that people whisper when I walk by? Mothers reach for

their children. No one will look me in the eye. The older I get,

the worse it is.”

“I‟m not afraid of you, Serena.”

“Well, maybe you should be.” She took a step toward him,

holding up a finger in his face. “You think that because you

meet me in secret every so often, that that changes how

everyone else in this kingdom sees me? You think they care

that the prince is friends with the witch? There‟s not a girl in

that court who wouldn‟t give her right arm to be your wife –

to be queen one day. Every one of them would get rid of me.”

Serena turned and started walking.

Brendan‟s face darkened. “So now you read minds?”

She whirled around. “It‟s written all over their faces!” Serena

wrapped her shawl tighter around herself. “And they whisper,

too. Seriously, Brendan, just how thick are you?”

“Hey.” He pointed at her. “I‟m still the prince. You can‟t talk

to me that way.”

“Right.” Serena rolled her eyes. “Maybe it‟s time I stopped

calling you Brendan and started honoring the king‟s wishes. A

thousand apologies, Your Highness.” She curtsied deeply, and

turned away from him. “I‟m going home.”

Brendan strode toward her and grabbed her by the arm,

turning her around. “Now, wait just a minute.”

“Let go of me.” Serena wrested her arm out of his grip. He

reached for her again and she knocked his hands away. “I

don‟t care if you are the prince. Don‟t you dare touch me.”

She backed up a few paces, her footing solid. Snow fell around

them, and everything was in focus.

Brendan stood still, his arms at his sides. Her searched her

eyes. “Can we please talk about this?”

“Oh, we‟re done.” Once again, Serena turned to go.

“Wait.” Brendan lunged for her. She dodged him and he

stumbled, arms flailing.

Without thinking, Serena cast a binding spell at him. It hit

him in the side, flashing light as it connected. She closed her

eyes, wincing at the brightness. When she opened them, he

was gone.

“Brendan?” All her anger evaporated. She circled, looking for

him. “Brendan? Where are you?”

He didn‟t appear.

“Brendan, come on.” She stood, her arms crossed, waiting

for him to saunter up to her from the trees. That silly grin of

his would be plastered across his face. “This isn‟t funny, OK?

I‟ll stay. We can talk.”

When several minutes passed and he still hadn‟t shown up,

she sank to the ground and leaned against a large rock to wait,

shivering. The snow fell harder, blanketing her head and

shoulders. Where was he? She had hardly blinked; he couldn‟t

be very far.

Serena thought about the spell she had cast – she had never

felt that much power flowing through her before. Her only

goal had been to keep him from grabbing hold of her again;

she hadn‟t meant to hurt him.

“Oh, no.” Serena‟s voice was a whisper. “What have I

done?” She scrambled to her feet, closed her eyes, and tried to

think. She had used a binding spell – what if it had been too

strong, too powerful? Her eyes flew open. She was rather

angry when she cast it; she hadn‟t been in control. She tried to

recall a reversing spell, but nothing came.

What would he do if she called him back from wherever he

was? He would be so angry. He might even tell his father that

she had been practicing magic without permission. What

would the king do? It would be the dungeons, for sure. Or

worse. “This was all your idea, you know,” she called out to

the trees.

Her mother would know how to handle this – she could

reverse the spell. Her mother. Serena covered her mouth with

her hands. This magic was beyond what Serena thought she

could do. What if the king blamed Hedda instead? What would

he do to her? The thought was unbearable. Serena couldn‟t

bring Brendan back; she would lose everything. And she

wasn‟t going to let that happen. She dropped her arms to her

sides and her hands balled into fists.

He was gone. Serena wouldn‟t tell her mother. The less her

mother knew, the easier it would be to keep anything from

happening to her. “We protect ourselves,” she whispered.

Serena stood up straight, shook the snow off her shoulders,

and lifted her chin. That was settled, then. She started back

down the mountain; fresh flakes hid her footprints almost

immediately. Her mother would worry about her being caught

out in the storm.

Brendan‟s coat, which he had given her to wear and had

smelled like him, still lay on a rock. Within a few hours, it was

covered completely with snow.