28: Deva
Deva
The cold burnt. Her feet flamed. Her cheeks seared.
And everything was white. Specks danced before her eyes, landed on her.
Snow.
Deva lay in the snow. Not on it, but in it—white frost rose either side of her head, around her body.
Everything ached. She shuddered, couldn’t stop. There was a strange wheezing sound when she breathed, and her chest was tight.
She coughed. Doubled up, foetal position. The white walls around her collapsed.
Deva coughed again. A splatter of warmth burnt up her throat, out of her mouth. Something dark erupted onto the snow.
Blood? No. Wasn’t red. Melted into the snow, disappeared from view.
Blinking, aching all over, Deva pushed herself up, forced herself to sit. She twisted her body so that her head turned. The grey swirls blurred into
