Before the Snow Read Online Free

have a new playmate, though, and her pretty and bright presence in contrast to Nepenthe’s rumbling clouds drowned out some of the noise of Nepenthe’s hurt when she was out of the water. If nothing else, Ora was becoming a friend—whether Nepenthe wanted one or not.
    They went on like that for a while, living like sisters, until everything changed again.
    One day on the boat, Nepenthe saw Ora saying good-bye to another girl. She had a shock of hair and a striking face that rivaled Ora’s.
    Nepenthe vaguely remembered her visiting the Coven during the phases of the North Lights when she was young. The girl was one of the Coven’s apprentices. The Coven had many. There were girls from all over Algid who had shown some magical promise. Girls who might one day replace one of the Three—if Nepenthe or Ora did not rise as expected.
    The Witch of the Woods had no heir and she was as old as the forest itself. Nepenthe wondered if this girl had wanted to be of the River. If Nepenthe had perhaps pushed out the apprentice by her arrival. But on second look there was something so earthly about the girl. So human. It was clear she did not belong in the water.
    â€œMargot, since we might not meet again, I want you to have this,” Ora trilled, giving the girl a pretty embroidered shawl.
    â€œThank you,” Margot said, flummoxed, before turning to Nepenthe.
    â€œNepenthe, is there anything I can do?” she asked.
    The genuineness of her tone cut through Nepenthe, reopening her forever wound. She bit her lip, and called on her forgotten manners.
    â€œThat is kind of you,” Nepenthe replied. “I remember you. You are with the witches.”
    â€œThe Witch of the Woods says she has nothing more to teach her,” Ora explained. “So Margot’s training is done.”
    Margot looked at Ora then. That was the difference between them. Ora was a part of the Coven by blood. Apprentices were there on merit alone. But if Margot felt any resentment toward Ora, she hid it well. With a small smile, Margot pulled the new shawl around her with great care.
    â€œFunny thing,” she said.
    â€œWhat?” Nepenthe asked as she made her way toward Ora.
    â€œ It’s the only thing I have ever been given since my naming day,” Margot laughed.
    A whole life from birth to now, and she had never had a present?
Nepenthe thought of all the gifts she’d gotten from her parents over the years and tried to imagine what this girl’s life had been. Nepenthe opened her mouth to offer up a kindness, but what was there to say? Nepenthe had lost those who were most important to her. But she had the Coven and the water. Margot had never had anyone or anything, except for a little magic, and apparently not enough.
    Nepenthe said Margot’s name gently, but Margot was already gone into the night.
    The next few years were a blur of magic and water. Apprentices like Margot would drift in and out of their lives, but Ora was a constant. In time, the Witch of the Woods would leave them for days and sometimes months at a time.
    Ora and Nepenthe did not have much in common, but they spent hours together. Time unifies and endears, while one isn’t paying attention.
    And though her training wasn’t complete like Margot’s, Nepenthe could make the River do what she wanted now. She could change its course. She could make fountains rise and fall. But on land Nepenthe was limited. She could only move water like a bow without arrows. On land, her skin dried. Her tentacles disappeared. She looked like anyone else.
    Like everyone else.

7
    â€œSometimes I think you never really leave the River. You’re more fish than girl,” Ora teased, calling to Nepenthe in the River.
    It sounded like something Nepenthe’s mother would say. Ora’s words were comforting and stinging all at once.
    Ora was sitting on the riverbank. She was embroidering a dress with an exquisitely detailed bodice.