Winterwood Read Online Free PDF Page A

them.
    â€œWhere are we?” Anna asked, her arms wrapped around her chest.
    â€œWinterwood,” Anders said, slapping the snow off her back.
    Anna gasped. “That’s not possible. How—”
    â€œThere’s no time for explanations right now.”
    â€œWhat the fuck is Winterwood?” Paul’s voice rose with each word, taking on a hysterical note.
    â€œQuiet!” Anders guided them behind a nearby tree. So far, the noise hadn’t attracted any attention, but that could change at any moment. “We must find shelter before you both freeze to death.” He’d noticed his son-in-law had already started shivering. Unlike Anna, who at least wore a heavy sweater, Paul only had on a cotton turtleneck to protect him from the elements.
    Anders glanced around and saw they’d ended up in the middle of a long, wide road that carved through the forest. A few yards to their left, a wide, shimmering square stretched across the path and stood ten feet high. To their right, the path led deeper into the woods.
    â€œThis way,” Anders said, pointing in the direction away from the Veil. “Hurry. We haven’t much time.”
    Very aware that the clock had begun ticking, Anders headed off, doing his best to kick up the ankle-deep snow as he walked, not only to make it easier for Anna and Paul to walk in their low-cut shoes, but to create a trail they’d be able to follow when they returned. Behind him, Anna and Paul hurried to keep up, their arms wrapped around each other for warmth.
    â€œDad, wait. Where are you—?”
    Anders turned and let some of his frustration escape. “Hush, for gottverdammt’s sake. If they find us, they will kill us. And you’ll never see your children again.” He put his back to them and continued walking. Their questions would have to wait. He still had no idea what they’d find at the end of the road, or how he would rescue the children. He only knew that in less than six hours, the Veil would close for another year.
    And that meant certain death for all of them.
    Trudging through the snow, with the trees all around and the night silent as a church, Anders could almost imagine he’d been transported to the Black Forest of his childhood, back to a time when it hadn’t yet devolved into a tourist destination for the rich and arrogant and when winter meant an endless supply of snow to play in and meat pies, sausage and sweet pastries to feast on.
    All good things, but always lurking in the deepest shadows were the dangers to beware of. His hand went automatically to his left side where the scars served as a permanent reminder that what most people called legends or fairy tales were in fact warnings to be heeded.
    And now they were heading right into the heart of those legends.
    Ahead of them, the path widened and angled down a gradual slope. Sitting at the bottom of the slight hill was the most incredible sight. A village, but one like nothing else in the world.
    All the houses and buildings had been carved from living trees whose trunks were wider than a two-car garage. Two stories, three stories tall, the homes had shuttered windows and oval doors and balconies whose intricate woodwork reminded Anders of his childhood home. Towering bonfires placed around the outskirts of the clearing created a mad, flickering glow that illuminated the buildings and made the shadows dance with wild abandon. Similar fires blazed at strategic points throughout the village.
    Closer to the village proper, the tree houses grew less frequent and shops of various kinds took their place. Anders made out stables and a blacksmith and a bakery, all tended by tiny figures in peaked hats. More of the elfin men and women hurried through narrow, muddy streets and alleys between the trees, some laden with sacks or baskets, others herding poorly dressed individuals or dashing from place to place on mysterious errands.
    Smoke rose from thick branches