Elemental Assassin 04 - Tangled Threads

one of the silverstone knives hidden in the zippered pockets, but my hand just wouldn’twork. Wouldn’t move, wouldn’t grasp, wouldn’t do anything but lie by my side like a dead fish. No part of my body worked. It dimly occurred to me once more that I couldn’t feel anything—not my fingers, not my toes, and especially not anything else in between.
    “There! There she is!”
    Someone rustled through the cattails I was lying in, sending clumps of dirt raining down on my face, but I didn’t even have the strength to reach up and brush them away. I got the sense that someone was standing over me, though, looking down at my cold body.
    “Why—why are her hands glowing like that? With that silver light?” the woman whispered in an awed tone.
    “I don’t know,” the man rumbled. “Go start the car and turn the heat on full blast. Now.”
    Another pair of footsteps scurried away, hurrying back up the muddy bank. Again I tried to summon up the strength to move, to protect myself, or even to just open up my eyes and see exactly what this new threat was. But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do anything right now.
    Strong arms lifted my body up out of the frozen mud. I breathed in, and a rich, earthy scent filled my nose. His aroma, the one that always made me think of metal, if metal could ever have any real smell to it.
    “Owen?” I mumbled.
    At least, I thought that I mumbled his name. My lips were so cold and stiff that I didn’t actually feel them move. I tried to open my eyes again but found I couldn’t. Something had glued my eyelids together. Ice probably, frozen in my lashes, from my foolhardy swim in the Aneirin River.
    Silence.
    Then a warm hand smoothed down my cold, wet hair. “Hang on, Gin. Just hang on—”
    The world went black once more.
    I don’t really know what happened after that. I was dimly aware of riding in a car, someone’s hands yanking at my heavy, wet, ice-crusted clothes. Every once in a while, I woke up long enough to hear people talking. Odd bits of conversation I probably should have understood but that just made no real sense to me.
    “I’m driving as fast as I can.”
    “Use that cloud knocker.”
    “Put her in the tub.”
    “She’s so
cold.
”
    Sometimes I thought that I heard Owen’s voice. Other times I could have sworn it was Eva Grayson talking. But what would the brother and sister be doing at the train yard? I’d gone there to meet Finn, not them. I just couldn’t make sense of anything.
    Slowly, the cold receded from my body, an inch at a time, and warmth enveloped me once more. My fingers and toes and everything in between started to tingle as my circulation was slowly restored. I gritted my teeth as the fiery needles stabbed me one after another in an unrelenting wave.
    “It’s okay now, darling,” a soothing voice whispered. “You can let go of your Ice magic now. You’re safe, Gin. Relax. Just relax.”
    So I did and drowned in the darkness once more.
    *   *   *
    The next time I tried to open my eyes, I was actually able to do it, with no problems or struggles of any sort. After a few seconds, the world snapped into focus and I realized I was lying in a bed. Above my head, puffy white clouds drifted across a cerulean blue sky on the fresco on the ceiling. The dreamy clouds comforted me, and I let out a quiet sigh. Safe. I was safe now. Because only one person I knew had her ceilings painted like that—Jo-Jo Deveraux.
    Somehow I’d gotten from the muddy bank of the Aneirin River all the way across town to the dwarf’s house. I wasn’t too concerned right now with exactly how that had happened, just the fact that I was safe and warm and could actually feel my arms and legs again. I wiggled my fingers and toes and was pleased when they all responded to my internal command. Looked like I hadn’t lost any digits to frostbite or hypothermia, no doubt thanks to Jo-Jo’s healing Air elemental magic. Good. It would be hard to hold on to my silverstone knives with no thumbs.
    A faint scuffle sounded, and I lifted up my head.
    Over the mound of blankets that covered me, I spotted Natasha standing at the foot of the bed. The little girl had been cleaned up since the last time I’d seen her in the train yard. Her dark brown hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and her face was free of the grime and tears that had covered it. The puffy bruise was gone from her cheek, and I didn’t see any other injuries on her. Jo-Jo had probably