Chapter Forty-Nine

The world they landed in was not as populous as Avantine, but there was a lot more snow. Syaoran landed face first in a snow drift, keeping him from smashing into the frozen ground. Seishirou would have landed painfully if he hadn't had the agility to flip in midair and come down on both feet. Fuuma's landing was probably the worst, given that he was unconscious and thus unable to compensate for the jarring impact. Syaoran winced at the sound of flesh hitting the ice.

His teacher hurried over to the brown-haired man to check on him. A moment later, Seishirou removed his black cloak and wrapped it around his brother's clothes. "Won't you be cold?" Syaoran asked.

"Vampires don't feel cold like humans do," Seishirou said quietly, eyes narrowing. "Give me your jacket."

Startled by the command, he fumbled with the buttons of his jacket. The temperature had started to drop before he'd left Infinity, and he'd bought a jacket after one of the last chess matches, to stave off the wintry chill during his training. He doubted it was enough to keep anyone warm in the snow, but if he didn't really need it, and Fuuma would benefit from the limited warmth . . . He slid the coat off and handed it to his mentor, wrapping his arms around his torso. The cold permeated his thin shirt and leeched heat from his skin, but as Seishirou had said, the effect wasn't quite the same. He didn't shiver or go numb. The cold was, if anything, a mild annoyance.

His teacher wrapped Fuuma in the coat, then lifted him up, carrying him like an infant across the field of snow. The dark-haired man seemed to have some instinctive knowledge of where to go.

Does he smell civilization? Syaoran wondered, sniffing the air. I can only smell the cold. He frowned. Maybe he's using different senses.

Syaoran looked around for signs of habitation. Tracking wasn't a skill he'd thought to learn, but from what little he'd picked up from his clone's memories, no one else had come this way in quite some time.

"Start gathering up branches for a fire," Seishirou said after a few minutes. Syaoran nodded and hurried over to the nearest cluster of trees. Their branches were barren except for the lines of snow clinging to the tops of each branch, but the fact that deciduous trees survived here told him that this world wasn't cold like this year-round. There should be people scattered throughout this world, he thought, pulling down at the base of a branch. Underestimating his newfound strength, he tore the branch off with a splintering sound. It careened toward his head and smacked him on the nose, knocking him into the snow.

"Ow," he muttered, rubbing his face. He could feel Seishirou's gaze on the back of his neck.

"Are you all right?"

Vampires didn't feel pain as humans did, either. Already, the hairline fracture in his nose was healing, the pain fading away to nothingness. "I'm fine," he said, wiping the trickle of blood off his face. He pulled another branch from the tree, standing off to the side this time.

Unbidden, images of his most recent nightmare flashed through his mind. He pulled another branch loose, wincing at the sound it made when it broke. It's just firewood, he told himself, fighting back the images of his clone doing the same. In this kind of climate, everyone has to be able to make a fire.

It occurred to him that the Other might be in this world right now, doing the exact same thing he was doing.

"There's a little cave in the side of this rock," Seishirou yelled. Syaoran glanced up to see the dark-haired man standing over half a mile away, waving his arms. "Bring the firewood over here."

Syaoran gathered the bundle in his arms, hoping it would be enough, and hurried over, stepping up his pace to an unnatural level. As much as the thought of drinking blood to survive horrified him, he had to admit it was convenient to move this fast. In a quarter of the time it would've taken a human to sprint the distance across flat grass, he reached the rest of his party.

Seishirou set his brother down to rest just within the mouth of the cave, combing his fingers through Fuuma's hair before turning his attention to the firewood. "Set the kindling right here. We don't want it so close to the cave that it heats the rocks and makes them fracture."

Syaoran flinched at the thought of boulders coming down on their heads, then hurried to obey, not sure how long it would take for Fuuma to freeze to death. If he dies, Seishirou-san won't have a reason to keep me here, Syaoran thought, snapping the largest branch in half and using it as the centerpiece for the fire. He clustered the other branches around it and stuck some of the smallest twigs near the base, where they would act as kindling. After a few minutes, he realized he'd need more firewood if he wanted it to burn for the rest of the night. He hurried over to the nearest cluster of trees and tore a few more branches free to add to the pile.

"Why don't you use your magic to light this?"

Syaoran glanced up from the pile of kindling, surprised at the suggestion. It was the most efficient way to start the fire, but it was also the most flamboyant. If anyone happened to come across them while they worked, it could be trouble.

"Are you sure?"

"There's no one around," his teacher assured him, guessing his thoughts. "Go ahead."

Syaoran returned his gaze to the pile, frowning. All the spells he knew were designed to be used for destruction or self-defense. Being subtle with his magic was something he'd never had to learn.

You wanted to learn control, he reminded himself. If you can't control a simple spell, how can you expect to control your hunger?

His frown deepened, and he moved his hand over the dry wood. He remembered the twisting motion the Other had used to light a fire in his nightmare. The Other had been using Fai's magic then, but there was a chance Syaoran's own magic would work similarly. Warily, he twisted his hand through the air like he was lighting a stove. The magic in his body coiled in his fingertips, growing hot. A moment later, the base of the fire roared to life. Syaoran recoiled from the bright flash, fearing he'd lost control, but the flames went down to a normal level after a minute.

"That was good," Seishirou said, grinning as he moved his brother closer to the fire. "From now on, you should use your magic as much as possible."

"I don't know if I'll be able to control it," Syaoran said quickly, not wanting this small success to mislead his mentor.

"You will. Just as you'll learn to control your bloodlust."

"I've never practiced with mundane spells like this. I know the limits of my magic, but I don't know how well it can be contained."

Seishirou lost his smile, and Syaoran shrunk back. Stupid, he chided himself. Don't argue with him.

"Syaoran, there will be times in your travels where you will struggle to do the right thing, or to strive for your goal. When you're faced with such things, the most important thing will be to have a clear head. To do that, you'll need to master self-control."

He nodded.

"That includes both mental and physical control. And the best way to learn those is through magic."

Syaoran understood the complicated balance of mind and body as it related to magic. Spells required a mental fortitude, forged through absolute focus, as well as healthy body to channel energy through. It's like music, he thought. To sing or play an instrument, one needs both the mental capacity to understand the notes written on the page, and the physical ability to create the sounds.

"What kinds of things should I do to practice?"

"Anything, really. For example, did you know you can call animals to your aid with magic?"

"Really?"

The older man nodded. "That's right. For example, if you needed a horse, you could send out ripples of magic inviting one to come near, tame or wild. The magic would bind that creature to you until you were out of energy, or until you released the spell."

"Interesting."

"And then there are things like this," Seishirou went on, gesturing to the crackling fire. "On an even smaller scale, you can use that kind of magic to boil water without creating a flame, or warm someone in a cold winter night." His eyes drifted over to his brother's still form, and Syaoran realized why his teacher had been so calm even when Fuuma should have been in danger of freezing to death.

He uses magic to protect the person he loves, Syaoran thought, watching Seishirou rest one hand on his brother's forehead. Where I can only use my magic to destroy.

"You're brooding again."

"I'm sorry."

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

He asks that so often. None of the others ever cared enough to ask me that. "It's nothing. What else can magic do?"

Seishirou smiled. "We're in for a long conversation."