For the next two days, the group traveled in a thick fog of ill will and distrust.
Brynn tried to goad Maeve into conversation from time to time, but she was largely dismissed.
“Remember the time we ambushed my father with snowballs when he was coming around the barn?” Brynn tried to engage with Maeve again. “We hid inside the barn door, and as soon as we heard his footsteps, we started flinging snowballs and screeching like wild banshees.”
“No,” Maeve said simply, her tone icy as she walked on.
“What happened then?” William said, trudging beside Brynn. She sighed sadly.
“We hadn’t realized the village Magistrate had come to visit, and neither of us bothered to look before we attacked so …” The joy in her voice dissipated as she stared at Maeve’s back.
“Did you get in trouble?” William prodded, eyes sparkling.