Within the Bone

XX. A Firelit Night

Trekking through a blizzard in the middle of the night was a good way to get herself killed, but Mara had no intention of letting Sammael down. She trudged through the snow with her head down, following in Aallotar's tracks as her thoughts turned over her master's words relentlessly.

If they find you or learn of your gifts, they will destroy you down to the very atoms of your being. Part of her wondered how different that really was from her own people. It was a bitter thought, but the anger it brought kept her pushing forward despite the gnawing of cold on her right arm. The pain was coming back with a vengeance since they had no time to stop and spread more salve on it. Finding shelter was much more important. Fortunately, there was no chance of anyone tracking them in this snow.

Aallotar reached back, pulling her through the dense trees where the snow was thinnest to the mouth of a cave, sheltered by branches creaking under the weight of their frozen burden. "There is no bear," the wildling said with confidence. "I would smell him. Let us be gone from this weather."

Mara thanked their lucky stars and slid down the last slope of snow to reach the cave. It was warmer than the surrounding area without the wind blowing through it, a welcome relief. "We need a fire, fast," she admitted. "As soon as we start to warm, everything we're wearing will need to dry."

"I will fetch wood."

"Don't stray too far," Mara said softly. "We do not want the beast returning."

Aallotar nodded and disappeared out into the snow. The flurries were so fierce that Mara could barely see two feet out of the cave. She heard some sharp cracks and soon Aallotar was back with freshly gathered branches and a number of chunks of deadfall that brought with them dead needles. It was only a matter of arranging it properly then. Much of it was set aside to dry as well, but Mara carefully stacked what she could and then closed her eyes, holding her hand beside the tinder that they'd gathered to start the kindling. She thought of Sammael's lessons, focusing her will as she tapped into the devouring emptiness of Void.

All things are in motion, no matter how still they seem. The difference between a pot of boiling water and a pot of ice is only the speed at which it moves.

Mara felt the air around her bandaged hand grow hotter and hotter the more she pressed with her will. She had to twist her fingers, crafting a spiral of air in motion, a current so slight it was imperceptible except for the heat it generated. Magic was flashy and obvious, in her experience. The paltry control of Void she had was much more subtle in its application. She couldn't conjure a fire, but she could send particles racing from one side to the other, pulled by the Void, sparking a flame in the tinder. The agony in her arm was well worth the sudden flash of light and heat. She had done better than she realized: soon the kindling had taken and they could add sections of log.

She let out a hiss of breath and clutched at her arm as she released her grasp on her power. The whole length of her arm throbbed and burned from Sammael's attempt to push beyond the next wall holding her back. Aallotar was there in an instant, bandages in one hand and salve in the other.

"Mara, let me see it." The worry in the wildling's golden eyes sent a sympathetic stab through Mara's heart.

Without thinking, the sorcerer nodded. She stripped off the heavy wool cloak she was wearing and two of the shirts she had layered on. It left her with one, which she pulled her arm out of, holding the shirt to her chest with her other hand. Not that it mattered much. Compared to Aallotar, she was soaked almost to the bone. Even wet wool could only do so much. She knew that she would have to strip and dry her clothes near the fire now that it was going.

Aallotar gently spread the numbing salve across the inflamed wounds, some of the curling fractal burns worsened by her use of sorcery. Then she bandaged the arm expertly. "You shouldn't have had to do that, Mara. Flint and steel—"