An early taste of winter.

‘What’s the hold up?’ Ignacio raised his voice, as the carriage slowed to a halt.

‘There’s a woman on the side of the road, sire,’ the coachman shouted from his perch.

Alan leaned out of the window to see what the commotion was about.

A woman wrapped in a heavy coat was standing in the ditch on the side of the road. She was out of breath—maybe she was running from something—her raven hear matted to her pale skin.
‘O, thank ye Gods! Please, you must help me. They’re hunting me!’ she pleaded with the coachman and the young man looking out of the window.

Whether Ignacio was suspicious of an ambush or just lacked any sort of compassion, he dismissed the notion.
‘Push onwards. We shan’t delay,’ he commanded.

‘But, Sir, she—’ Alan started.

Ignacio immediately cut him off.
‘There are no buts, we move on. She will manage by herself!’ he bellowed.

Alan raised his voice.
‘Sir, I really think we are obligated help. If she’s being hun—’ Alan said.

‘Nobody asked you boy! I’m in charge and I say we ride on. We shouldn’t even have stopped, Henry!’ he spat to his driver.

To everyone surprise, an eerily menacing chuckle escaped the woman, who had pleaded for help just a moment ago.
‘My, my. We could have done this the easy way. Could have just given me a ride out of here. But your dear leader is a heartless imbecile. Now, I’ll have to do it the hard way!’ she said.

She raised her slender hand from her cloak and chanted some undecipherable spell.

‘Gods! A bloody sorceress! Run for you lives!’ Henry shouted completely panicked. The coach lurched from side to side, as both Karl and Henry jumped off and started running into the woods. The passengers were not so lucky.

Everything froze around Alan. It became deathly cold and ice crystals were forming all around, he could see his every breath. Looking to his side, Ignacio was not moving, deathly pale and deep blue lips—no breath escaped them. Luna jumped out of the open window, fleeing the encroaching cold.

‘Henry! Karl! Are you okay?!’ he cried. No answer.

It was strange that he was not affected. Was the mysterious sorceress sparing him? Then he noticed that his chest was soothed by a strange warmth, he reached his hand to it and found Catrina’s gift radiating heat. He had no time contemplate how Catrina got a magical pendant, as the door to the cabin opened.

The sorceress gave him an unsettlingly sweet smile, her sky-blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun.
‘Well, well. Isn’t that better?’ she asked as she looked into Alan’s eyes.

‘Better?! You killed him!’ Alan protested.

Her eyes narrowed menacingly, annoyed that the young man didn’t appreciate her “gift”. To emphasise, she conjured a ball of ice suspended in the air above her palm.
‘Now, now. Is that any way to thank me for not killing you? I can feel it in you—you hated that man. I did you a favour if you think about,’ she chuckled.

Alan was sufficiently intimidated by her display.
‘Fine. Just don’t hurt me!’ he pleaded with her.

She huffed, annoyed at his meek response.
‘Don’t grovel! It’s unbecoming of a man, boy. Now, if we could get on our way. I really don’t want to be here when that mob catches up with me,’ she commanded.