Within the Bone

XVIII. A Pushed Limit

Mara had never been more aware that she was walking the edge of a knife. She collapsed to her knees in front of Sammael, the flesh of her arm seared by sorcery. Her breathing came in sobs now as she tried to pull herself back together. "I can't."

Her master brushed his hollow, needle-like claws across her forehead. "DO NOT CLOSE THE DOOR OF POTENTIAL INSIDE YOU."

She heard her tears more than felt them, harsh catches in her words. "It hurts so much." Void had a way of making her a stranger to her own body. "I can't take it."

Claws dug into the flesh of her shoulders. "YOU WILL ENDURE IT AND MORE. THAT IS WHAT IT WILL TAKE TO ACHIEVE YOUR FULL POWER." Sammael leaned down, putting his blunt muzzle beside her ear. The next words came softly, but held that same demonic coldness. "DO YOU NOT WANT YOUR GUARDIAN FREED FROM HER CURSE?"

Mara tried to stem her tears with her good hand, but they refused to stop. "You know that I want that more than anything."

"THEN YOU KNOW WHAT IS REQUIRED OF YOU. WE HAVE SURMOUNTED SUCH PLATEAUS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS." Sammael held her firmly in place. "ONE MUST BREAK THE BONDS OF IRON IN THE INFERNO BEFORE IT CAN BECOME STEEL."

Despite all the pain, the sorcerer tried to reach down into the blackness again. The higher she reached, the more conscious she was that Void itself was trying to rip her apart for daring to think she could bend it to her will. Someday, she knew she might over-commit and destroy herself, but while she was always cautious on her own, Sammael seemed intent on forcing her beyond her limits.

When he said they had passed several plateaus in this way, however, he was not lying.

Mara collapsed completely before she could even bring her will together. Her body had taken all that it could for the moment, demanding rest that not even her determination could overpower. Sammael was pushing her to the bitter edge of what she could maintain without another modification.

It was hours before Mara's consciousness returned. Eyes closed, she took stock of her situation. Warmth suffused her body where there had only been cold, blankets warmed by the fire now wrapped around her. Aallotar was somewhere nearby, humming in the depths of her voice, and the smell of cooking food filled the air. Her arm still hurt, but barely a drop when compared to the oceans of agony from earlier. Sammael had to have tended to her wounds, her arm stiff from bandages.

It was strange how comfortable and safe she could feel in a place that came with such merciless torment. That was probably Aallotar's doing.

"Is she often like this?" Theudhar asked quietly.

Saxa made a mumbling sound, probably asleep with her head in his lap. The big man liked to run his fingers through her hair, which was just about guaranteed to put the semi-aquatic woman straight into the world of dreams. The cold was hard on the two southerners and left them fatigued whenever they had to contend with it for too long. With winter's grip on the Red Mountains slowly easing, they could be outside more and more, but the streams were still too frozen over for Saxa to swim.

The humming stopped. "This is...worse," Aallotar admitted softly, her worry clear in her tone.

Mara felt her heart clench at that sound. It was necessary, but she hated it when her condition really weighed on the wildling's mind.

"I am glad she has you to care for her." Theudhar paused for a moment, then continued even more softly, "I heard you and Saxa talking. You should tell her."

Aallotar blew out a tense breath. Mara heard the soft clink of a ladle against the side of the pot. "It's not a good time. She has too much on her mind already."