Relentless, icy snow pelted my face, sticking to my eyelashes and obscuring my vision. The hood of my thin cloak had long ago soaked through and lay like a wet second skin on my head. Covered by the saturated fabric, my ears felt as if stakes were being driven into them with a giant hammer.
“Verrannica!”
Clearly, I was hallucinating.
I stumbled forward, my toes and fingers burning with a cold, penetrating fire. I’d almost turned back dozens of times, realizing the futility of getting anywhere in this raging blizzard. But despite the pitch-black night and the blinding snow, turning back wasn’t an option.
The wind screamed through the mountain valley like an angry beast, pushing me to my knees. I sank down on my haunches in the snow and found I didn’t have the energy to get back up. As I slumped forward, my eyes drifted closed and I lay my head on my legs. I’ll just rest here for a moment, I promised myself.
I had to get the journal out of Doon. No matter what the cost.
That morning, while Kenna was in the bath, I’d thrown the book into the fireplace and watched the flames leap around it like it wasn’t even there. After twenty minutes, I’d pulled the unblemished journal out of the blaze with a pair of iron tongs—it’s flawless condition confirming my suspicion that getting the cursed object out of Doon was the only solution.
Since the bridge was impassible until the Centennial, I’d snuck away from the funeral, headed for Muir Lea. If I’d read Jamie correctly, very few people knew about the secret cliff path that lead down to the beach and out of Doon. But none of my plans or calculations had included this freakish blizzard.
The roaring in my ears clued me in to the fact I was not only hallucinating, frostbitten, and lost—but most likely dying. I should have confided in Kenna or even Fiona. If I perished now, the knowledge of the cursed journal would die with me and the witch would win.
No freaking way was I letting that happen.
Drawing together my last reserves of strength, I began to uncurl and get to my feet when a strange warming sensation permeated the hood of my cloak. I opened my ice-crusted eyelids and lifted my head. But instead of finding the endless snow-covered landscape, I stared directly into the eyes of the biggest animal I’d ever seen—a giant brown bear crouched so close, I could smell its rotten breath.
I choked on a scream and fell back onto my behind, the movement startling the animal into action. It took a step back and let out a furious, ear-splitting roar. I scrambled back on my arms and legs like a crab, cursing my snow-encrusted skirts. The angry beast stalked toward me, a deep growl vibrating from its massive chest.
Heart hammering, I continued to move backward on all fours until my shoulder slammed into what I assumed was a tree. Unable to take my eyes from the advancing monster, I pushed myself to my feet. Big mistake. Apparently, the bear saw this as a challenge, and rose to its full height. As it lumbered toward me on its hind legs, I swallowed a scream, afraid the noise would trigger the animal to charge.
If a bear attacked, you were supposed to poke it in the eye—or was that for a shark? I searched for a stick or rock, anything that I could use as a weapon. Nothing. Not that I had any delusions of defending myself against the eight hundred pound mass of muscle looming over me.
The next raging roar shook snow from the leaves above my head. Wicked-sharp claws and huge jagged teeth flashed in my face. I sent up a quick prayer and balled my hands into fists, bracing for the first strike.
Thwack!