Christa woke slowly--a leisure she seldom had. She stayed stone-still as she waited for the fog of sleep to leave her mind. Well, she thought, I'm more than a little hot, and by the feel of it, I have about thirty blankets piled on me... Then she remembered. Everything. The day before she'd been far too exhausted--and cold--to really think about what had happened to her. A whole lot had happened to her in a very short amount of time, really.

          Christa used this time to recap on what had happened. She'd narrowly escaped--whatever it was those awful men in the tavern had planned for her by running, deserting her sword, her only form of protection in the process. She'd run though the forest until exhaustion and cold had caught up with her; and, perhaps the most amazing thing of all--she'd been Chosen. That was what had saved her. Damon had saved her from freezing to death-- though how, she did not know.

          Maybe Elena and Cathan helped him. They had to have been nearby, anyway.

          Now...Elena; she was all right. At least what little Christa had seen of her so far was very nice. The girl was not all that much older than herself, but definitely more sure of herself. She simply carried an easy manner about her that was infectious. Cathan, however...he made her slightly uncomfortable. Not enough to make her want to cringe away, or run out of the room, but enough to make her slightly uneasy around him. That much she'd picked up just yesterday. Regardless of her feeling toward them, though, they'd insisted that she take one of their bed rolls--she wasn't sure who's exactly it had been--and she'd accepted on the sole reason she was far too tired and cold to argue.

          She lay there for a moment more, listening for sounds. There really weren't many to listen to, though. She could hear the snow falling softly onto the roof; the fire next to her--small though it was--crackling, the snort of a horse. But if she listened harder, she could hear the Heralds talking just outside the door. She strained her ears and actually caught a few words.

          "I don't know how to explain it," Elena was saying. "The fire just kept--dying. I had to rebuild it every few minutes. We have almost no matches now, so you'll have to use what little gift you have."

          "I've never seen anything like this either. Yes, it's a good thing I have a small Firestarter ability...if I didn't we might be in toruble," Cathan said.

          "Do you think she might have something to do with it? You said you don't think she's a Firestarter...." Elena said, her voice softer, making Christa strain to hear it.

          "No....it has a different sort of feel to it. It's hard to explain..."Cathan said, sounding genuinely puzzled. Christa had no problem deducing that she was the one they were talking about.

          Christa slowly sat up, throwing the blankets off her; she didn't need them anymore. She was positively boiling under them all. She was just standing--a bit unsteadily--when the two Heralds walked in, their jaws gaping as they saw her on her feet.

          "Well. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Cathan managed to choke out. He seemed utterly flabbergasted to see her on her feet.

          "I feel much better," Christa assured him. "I really cannot thank you enough for helping me. I would have died if you hadn't come....where is Damon?" She looked around, perplexed. There were two companions in a little alcove off to the side of the door, but she was positive neither of them were her Damon.

          "It's our job to save people," Cathan said with a smile, his eyes twinkling. "And Damon is outside communicating with Haven. He wanted to let them know you were on your way so they could get things ready."

          Christa might have had a near-death experience and still been rather sleep-fogged, but she heard the underlying statement to that comment. He was telling her that she was to be off toward Haven very soon, if not today. I wonder why he's in such a rush to get rid of me. I hope I wasn't all that much trouble....

          :Not at all, Chosen. This is Elena's internship and it's barely even begun. Cathan just wants to be on his way so he can relieve the current Herald of his post. It has nothing to do with your causing them too much trouble.:

          Oh, Christa thought, mentally kicking herself for not seeing this sooner. So he just wants to get this assignment over with. I see now...

          "So, I take it I'm off towards Haven today?" Christa asked Cathan with one brow raised. She smiled at his own raised brow. "I might not be the Highborn diplomat you're used to talking with, but I'm not the country bumpkin people assume I must be." She said this with a smile, but she was inwardly almost cringing away from him. After all; he was an experienced Herald and should know better than to simply assume the obvious. Her uneasiness towards him rose another notch.

          "If you think you are ready to travel, we can give you a set of warmer clothing stored here and you can leave for Haven as soon as you're ready." Cathan said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

          "I can be ready in just a few moments," A soft snort from just outside the door made her pause. "That is, just as soon as I groom Damon." A wicker of approval made them all grin. "So tell me. How long a ride is it from here to Haven?"

          "Only about three days on a Companion. Much longer than that on a regular horse." Elena said, finally deciding to come to life. Christa was trying to think where she would stay during those three days when Elena seemed to read her mind. "There are more waystations just like this one on the way. Damon knows how to find them and where they are well enough."

          There was a soft thump, and the door slowly opened to reveal Damon, shaking snow off his coat and nodding agreement. Then he stomped his foot impatiently and lightly kicked the bucket by the door with the brushes for him in it. Christa laughed softly and bent to pick up the bucket. "All right, all right. I'm going."

                                                                             *         *       *

          An hour later found her standing outside, bundled up in her borrowed clothes--nothing remarkable, really; just thick woolen gray clothing and a heavy, waterproof cloak--with Elena helping her to saddle Damon, who was impeccably groomed. After so many Herald's were Chosen with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and the villages got tired of donating their own clothing, the Queen had decided to provision waystations with Herald-trainee clothing. It was a "neutral" size--which meant Christa was absolutely swimming in them because she was so tiny--but it was warm, and bigger clothing meant more layers.

          Christa was not completely ignorant when it came to riding, but she was no professional. Besides, these saddles were different anyhow. The bridle had no bit and there were straps in all the wrong places.

          :No, Chosen. There are straps in all the right places. They are as comfortable as they are convenient.: Damon's voice reproved in her head. She was a bit startled every time she heard it, but she was slowly getting used to it. She had a sneaking suspicion that he knew she had to get used to his presence in her head, and that was why he did not speak to her very often.

          Elena was trying to explain to her which strap went where, but after the first few minutes, Christa was so hopelessly lost she just gave up. Currently she was stroking Damon's neck while Elena rambled on about how you had to make sure the straps were tight, yet still comfortable for her Companion.

          "--After all, a grumpy Companion makes for an equally grumpy Herald. Christa do you think you have all that?" Elena straightened and looked at her questioningly, her head tilted slightly to one side. Cathan was in the waystation getting together some provisions for her as well as himself and Elena; they would be leaving at the same time she did.

          "I think I can manage," Christa said, sounding much more confident than she really felt. Damon, will you help me, pleaseeee? She thought, aiming it right at Damon, knowing with an unexplainable certainty that he would hear her.

          :I suppose I'll have to,: he told her with a great mental sigh. :Or we're both in for a very uncomfortable ride.:

          Christa hoisted herself--gracelessly--into the saddle with a grin. That was the point. Damon snorted and reared a little, leaving Christa to hold on for dear life.

          "That wasn't very nice!" Christa scolded Damon, trying not to laugh.

          :You'll get used to it.: Damon said, sounding very amused.

          "You'll have to get used to far more than I will, Horse." Damon's only response was a full rear, which sent an unprepared Christa tumbling off his back and into a snowdrift. When she got her bearings again, Damon was nuzzling her chest lovingly with his nose to show he was only playing.

          :I wouldn't count on that just yet, Chosen.: