Oh deep winter snow, pale executioner, thou who delights in a slow, torturous death.

Blunt turned to the man in question with a helpless grin, “You have always proven yourself a mystery to me, good fellow!”Falconer lifted one corner of his mouth, “Then I have succeeded, Blunt.

I have chosen a life that depends on one’s awareness that every breath may be his last, every step may bring his downfall, and every word may stir betrayal. In truth, I must live in...