Malina drew a long breath. ‘I think you well know the answer to that question.’
Something in her tone made him look long into her eyes. In the end, it was he who looked away. Reluctantly, he nodded, and began riding away, slowly at first . . . then gathering speed.
He came finally to the stream. Following it for some distance, he came at last to a small waterfall. At the bottom, in the icy water, stood Imalwain in the pool under the falls, her Pixie dress discarded on some rocks. Her lips were blue with cold as she visibly tried to control her shivering. She didn’t become aware of his presence until he reached the edge of the pond and dismounted. Gasping, she made a dash for her dress, but he snatched it up before she could reach it. Juddering with cold and suppressed weeping, she said, ‘Please . . . give it back . . .’
‘Why?’ he asked her. ‘So that you may kill yourself?’
With eyes downcast, she said, ‘It is my life, to do with as I wish.’ Sidling away from him, she left the pond as she was, naked and ashamed, covering herself as best she could.
He caught up with her. She did not try to flee from him. She was too tired and empty to care what he might have done to her. Moving to stand in front of her, he took her in his arms, wrapping his fur-lined cloak around her. Then, concentrating, he embraced her with warmth. Her legs, which dangled several inches from the ground, she wrapped around him, and she clung to him and buried her head against his neck, starved for any warmth and affection.