Arrin struggled to his feet and forced his numb legs to take him across the endless expanse of snow and up the stairs of the porch spanning the front of the house. He raised what felt like a sixteen-ton arm and knocked on the door.

A five-year-old girl opened the door and looked up at the snow covered apparition with huge blue eyes. “Daddy?”

“Help me, Illura.”

Arrin fell face down, unconscious, his upper body inside the house and the rest on the snow-covered porch.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Arrin awoke in a strange bed in a strange room. He was as weak as a newborn baby, had a pounding head, ached everywhere, and his chest felt so tight it was difficult to breathe. The last thing he recalled was knocking on the door of a farmhou...

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