Followed by Frost

by Charlie N. Holmberg

The kind of cold that even fire fears, that can turn a woman to glass.

I have lived it, breathed it, and lost by it. I have known cold, for it dwelled in the deepest hollows of my soul.

People don’t change; they are what they are.

“And to think I felt anything for a woman like you,” he whispered, his face contorting into a snarl. “How blind I have been. Your heart is ice.”

“I came here to get away from it, to leave it all behind,” he growled. “But I have enough left for you.”

I would die next, anyway. I had seen Death, and he had known my name.

The very cold that had destroyed my life was my closest and only companion.

How ironic it would be for him to die by the very thing he had created.

We are neither dead nor living—entities who exist between worlds.

“Could you make me warm again?” “Smitha,” he said, folding his arms, “with or without me, you will never be warm again.”

The living do not see me, and the dead do not hear, but you can do both. You are special, Smitha.

“I am Death. I don’t have a heart to break.”

I smiled, feeling more peaceful than I had in years. My curse had become another’s blessing. How wonderful, to give this to them.

You are the jewel of this desert, Smeesa.

“Winter is the dearest friend to those who have chosen to be cold.”

I had gotten too comfortable here, too careless around people. I had thought I could no longer hurt anyone, tucked away in my cave. I had been so very wrong.

A man willing to forgo superstition to bring me a book, merely because he wanted to hear my thoughts on it.

I see the curse inside you; I know how it devours you. How much more pain will you bear before you give in? Is it so much better to waste away in this realm than to be my companion?”

“What do you want with me, Sadriel? Amusement? Sex? Not love, never love. You are Death; you don’t have a heart! But I do!” I pounded my uninjured fist into my chest, tears welling in the corners of my eyes. “It’s cold and cursed, but I still have a heart! How many times must I say it before you hear me?

I had known Sadriel for years, but there was no understanding him. He was an ever-changing being, unpredictable.

I would not fear Death, and I would not allow him to wield any power over me.

I was a child cursed for her cold heart, a woman who flirted with death at every turn.

I wished that for Lo. I wished him every grace life could offer, and I would do anything to give it to him. Oh, how I loved him.

I kissed him, knotting my hands into his soft hair. I kissed him, and I stayed warm.