"Lirael, get your hand off that door."
"No," she retorted, almost childishly. "I will get through. Katrel's past there."
"Didn't you hear? You'll die if you try. Now, please, let go. I don't like the idea of you touching Free Magic.
Lirael snatched her hand away as though it had been burned. She hadn't even noticed the waves of nausea that now racked her body. She never remembered the walk out of the cave. The next she knew, she was standing in bright sunlight, leaning heavily on Nick while Sam put his device to work. He waved them onto the platform, and they began the long descent. It went faster and faster until it came to an abrupt halt that sent the group to their knees. "Sorry, still a few bugs to work out."
"Clearly," Mogget drawled.
"At any rate, we're down here. Now, where's the silver supposed to be?"
"Pushy, pushy. We've still got a ways to walk since somebody wen off chasing boys. What's left of it will be left under that boulder." He raised a slim paw to point at a speck a half mile away.
"Wonderful," Lirael replied enthusiastically. "You can swim there." Before he could dart away, Lirael grabbed Mogget by the scruff of his neck and tossed him in the river. "There," she pronounced. "Now we can walk in peace."
And so they did, save for the occasional bout of laughter when a particularly large wave washed over the cat's head. When they reached the stone, Nick volunteered to take the plunge. He resurfaced seconds later to raucous laughter. "What?" His answer came from above when he shook his head in an attempt to dry his hair. Something resembling a white rat went flying, yowling the whole time it was airborne. Nick grinned. "Shall we leave him?"
"Yes," Sam and Lirael replied in unison. They started up, and were nearly to the thousandth step, or so Nick claimed, when Mogget caught up, looking distinctly fluffier than the last time they'd seen him. He continued up till he was several steps ahead of them, then stopped to finish drying himself. Lirael gave him an evil grin when she passed, and swung a foot out as though she planned to knock him off the cliff. Her plan worked; Mogget jumped right into the nearby thornbush.
"Is that all you have planned, or should I wait before pulling these out?" He mumbled, having already set to work.
"For now," Lirael said with a smile.
Two endless hours later, they crested the final step. "Well," huffed Lirael, leaning on her knees as best she could. "What's next?"
"As I was saying last night, we'll need a good forge. The only ones strong enough that I know of are in Ancelstierre and the amount of magic would certainly corrode the furnaces to the point of being absolutely useless."
"So... We'll have to build one?"
"No! Almost certainly not. We just need to fly low and slowly over the kingdom until we find one."
"But you just said-"
"That there weren't any that I know of. That still leaves a lot of them, especially in the far north."
The far north... Lirael could have sworn there was something about that place she should remember, but couldn't quite do so.
"Mind if I ride with Mogget this time? I don't believe I've had a good chance to bug him yet," Nick inquired.
"That would be good. Sam needs someone to fly his paperwing anyway, and you two should probably head back to the house to make sure the sendings aren't doing anything too horrible to Alina. Which one do you want?"
He answered by climbing into the green one, followed by Mogget who emitted a long and sorrowful groan. Nick grinned, and both paperwings rose into the sky.
Before long, the sky above them was mottled with tiny white clouds, and the ground turned into a hundred endless farms. Together, they looked much like the first quilt she'd had as a child. It had had the same earthy colors, and, if she tried hard enough, Lirael could almost remember her mother making it for her. Of course, that was all behind her now. She'd gladly left the security and safety of the glacier to begin a struggle against the most powerful force in the world. Nevermind that she hadn't a clue what she was doing, the job was hers and so it would stay.
Lirael had just relaxed into the gently passing pattern of earth and sky when the paperwing jerked and slowed to half their former speed.
"You know we can go a bit faster, right?"
"Wasn't me," Lirael replied, sticking a finger up to test the wind. It was holding steady, which left only the paperwing itself as the source of the problem. Lirael leaned over the side to make sure nothing was amiss. The painted eyes, usually so fierce, now looked almost timid, as though they knew they would soon be asked to do something that terrified them.
"Is it raining?" Sam asked, still watching the ground.
"No, it's- It's snowing!" It had been too long since she'd last seen snow. The flakes got larger, falling more and more frequently, and Lirael realized her memory hadn't done it justice. If she knew anything, though, this would soon turn into an all-out blizzard.
Lirael quickly whistled down as much of the howling gale as she could. Though there was still a good amount of wind, she managed to bring the paperwing to a bumpy but safe landing.
"Not to discredit you, Lirael, but how are we going to survive in this? I didn't see any villages on the way down."
She frowned for a moment before recalling something. "I think there's a forest in that general direction," she said, pointing somewhere to their left. "We could try to reach it. The trees should block most of the snow, maybe even the wind."
"How far away is it?"
"I don't know," Lirael admitted. "But it was still within sight before we landed, and with this storm, that can't be far away."
"We'd better start walking then. The sooner we're out of this, the better." Sam hopped out of the paperwing, shadowed by Lirael. He tried to take off at a fast jog, but sunk into the snow on the second step. Lirael stepped out of the paperwing's wake more carefully, but met the same fate. It seemed they were doomed to cold feet.
Luckily, it wasn't far to the tree line. Within a hundred steps, they could make out a green blur among the snowflakes. They only realized how blurry the snow had made it until Sam found a bit of a fir tree tickling his nose. Lirael still couldn't see him clearly, and bumped into him, causing Sam to tumble into the branch. After getting a good whiff of the wood, he hoisted himself out of the prickly foliage.
"Watch my back, would you?"
Lirael smiled at the frail joke. Reaching the forest had given both a glimmer of hope. Now if only they had a fire... "You didn't happen to bring a bit of flint, did you?"
"I don't think so," Sam replied, "but I'll check anyway. Maybe the sendings packed something."
"I doubt it," she said. "We were supposed to be floating down the Ratterlin, nice and toasty." Despite her doubts, she checked her own pack. It had weighed her down with every step, but perhaps now it would help her out a bit in return. Contrary to her concerns, she found a small piece of flint near the bottom of the bag. Lirael gathered up a few small twigs and cast some sparks on them. They fizzled out immediately, and she sighed. She tried thrice more before hurling the largest stick into a nearby tree.
"Lirael." It was more the sudden pop than the sound of her name that got her to turn around. Behind her, Sam was standing by a roaring bonfire. "How...?" Her mouth gaped open in mute wonder for a moment before she had the presence of mind to close it.
"Gasoline," he answered simply. "Of course, there's no vehicles here to use it in, but it still works as a fire starter."
"That's a bit of an understatement. I couldn't even get sparks to hold."
"That's because those twigs were soaked. Still, it wouldn't have survived long in the wind."
"What did happen to the wind? It was about to blow my coat off just a moment ago."
Sam's shoulders slumped for an instant, and a chill wind blew over the camp. "It's rather like a weather working spell, but in reverse. It's a little complicated, but if it keeps the cold out..." He shrugged before recovering his concentration. The flames roared again, and he wished for a marshmallow. It must have been close to ten years since he'd had one. They were strictly an Ancelstierrian delight; he'd yet to see them north of the Wall. Charter knew his sister could probably find someone capable of making them, but he wasn't about to put up with her for that. Besides, it was just the fire's crackling that made the idea so tempting.
He looked down and noticed the snow had entirely disappeared within the borders of his protective bubble. He sunk to his knees and added a mark to hold the spell while he slept. Lirael had dozed off somewhere in the middle of his thoughts, and he decided he had earned the privilege several times over. The barrier would keep out snow, wind, wolves... He fell asleep still listing the dangers.
†††
The flash of color he'd been following leaped and vanished. The hunter sighed and released his grip on the hard oak of his bow. No meat tonight, then. Just more of Vannah's so-called stew. It tasted more like a bunch of boiled-down vegetables. The stuff was at least half-decent with a bit of meat though. Right at the end of summer, it could even be called delicious. But now, in the dad of winter, it was downright awful.
The color flared again. Perhaps he did still have a chance for a good meal. He crept closer, firmly gripping the bow once more. Moving quickly from tree to tree he approached the clearing where his prey awaited him. When he reached the last bit of cover available, he cautiously peeked out from the brush to get a good sight on his quarry. And there, to his extreme disappointment, was a fire. He sighed. At least he could warm his hands. Perhaps whoever had built the bonfire would have a scrap of meat they'd be willing to share. As he crept closer, the hunter grew certain that these people did not have a thing, much less food. They were sprawled on the sparse area of ground the fire's heat had cleared of snow, and were bedraggled as a newborn. But, they could be useful. Slaves were not a new concept to his village. He stepped forward again, bow forgotten, hands now on the rope he used as a belt. They were just out of reach now. He leaned forward, stretched a hand out to grasp the man's leg, and screamed.
Pain shot up his arm. Tremendous, horrible pain that felt like he was being burned, frozen, and and struck by lightning all at the same time. It travelled the course of his body, and more kept coming. He wanted to run away, to escape the cause of this torture, but iron bands had secured his hand around the stranger's leg. This would be his deathbed. He would stand here forever, doomed to die by the very thing that had so mercilessly slaughtered these two people. He closed his eyes, awaiting death. The ankle he was holding twitched. He screamed all the harder.
†††
Sam woke with a star. Someone was screaming. Lirael... But no. This was a man's shriek, high and tortured. There was something holding his leg. The barrier! He jerked around to see the would-be attacker. The pained shriek had turned to a scream of horror. Lirael was up now. He could hear her stirring even as he silenced the intruder and changed the spell to end his torture.
"What did you do to him?" Lirael's voice was groggy and quiet, but clearly concerned for the man.
"It was a minor pain spell. Just to let him know what he was meddling with."
"Minor?" the stranger questioned. "I thought I was going to die!" Lirael frowned at Sam.
"On the other hand, I have been known to overpower things." The frown deepened.
The hunter gathered enough courage to speak again. "Why are you here? With your powers, what could you want of us?"
"Us?" Lirael looked around suspiciously.
"My village, of course. Were you not going there?"
"No... We were caught in the blizzard and took cover under these trees. We thought there weren't any villages for miles. Is it near?"
"Yes, very. It's only ten minutes' walk from here. You should come back with me. We could offer you a bed and food for the night. I'm not sure whether you could tell in that storm, but it's already late afternoon."
"No, we couldn't. I guess it would be a good idea to go then," she said.
"Good. Follow me."
They fell into an easy rhythm, with Lirael and Sam stepping in the hunter's footsteps to avoid getting more snow in their boots. After a few minutes, Sam sped up to walk beside Lirael so he could whisper in her ear. "What if they're cannibals?"
"Then he'd have brought us back cooked. We'll be fine. Who knows, maybe they'll even have a forge."
Sullenly, Sam waited for Lirael to pass him again and dropped back into his spot in line.
†††
"Eldrin, this is a far cry from a deer. We need more food, not people to feed!"
"I told you, Vannah, these people can do more for us than any food. They could sweep away the snow from our paths, light the forge, and the cast cast powerful protection spells" He wrung his hands at the memory.
"W-Wait," Sam stuttered. "Did you say forge?"
"Yes. Our forge is the hottest for a fifty miles. We don't see many people from the south, but I'd be willing to bet it's better than theirs, too," he stated pridefully.
"Could we use it? We came to this area looking for just that - a good forge."
"Eldrin thought for a moment. "I suppose-" He was cut off by Vannah's hand a millimeter in front of his mouth. "You may use it, if..."
A/N HehHeh--I just learned how completely ignorant I can be at times. While I was typing this chapter, I noticed something odd. Lirael, Sam, Nick, and Mogget were all in the air after leaving the steps, but only Sam and Lirael came back down in the original writing. I left poor Nick in a paperwing in the middle of a blizzard! Thank goodness for commas to get him out of such things!