Night Falls, And Snow — Andrew Dolbeck

By the time you finish reading this, Alexi Bartof will very likely be dead. Alexi is old, but not that old--sixty-six next January, a January he doesn't expect to see. Alexi isn't dying of old age, he's dying of magic. Picture him now, sleeping fitfullyin his hospital bed. It snows frequently in Alexi's room. Drifts of white are piled up in the corners. Cold breezes swirl the powdery surface. He isn't really sleeping, there in his snowy infirmary bed. He's spirit walking. Alexi Bartof is a witch for the season of winter, and this is his story.