Summary: In which Ral attempts to get breakfast, Jace manages to spend a little time awake, and sparks fly.

A/N: Many thanks to Rastaban for discussions involving headcanons about Ral's past.

Chapter Four

Bright light speared through Ral's eyelids, and he groaned. Morning already. Judging from the dryness of his mouth and the stickiness of his tongue, he'd fallen asleep in the lab again, but he couldn't remember what he'd been working on. And judging from the fact that everything was hurting and there was a familiar smell of faint burning hanging around his hair, it had something to do with lightning.

He blinked his eyes several times, trying to clear out the gunk, then realized that instead of the familiar sight of his grubby desk or floor, he was staring at yellow, flattened grass. What?

Ral sat up hurriedly, finally remembering where he was as he saw the inside of the sturdy tent and the thin bedroll he had been sleeping in. "Goddammit," he said aloud helplessly. After the healer had spirited Jace away last night, Ral himself had been too tired to do anything more than acquiesce when Brimaz offered him a place to sleep. Now, he was hungry and uneasy, but one of those was more easily dealt with than the other.

Getting unsteadily to his feet, Ral looked sadly down at his outfit. His once—well, not pristine—but mostly oil-free clothing was ripped and shredded, covered in burn marks and grass stains. It was also rumpled, but then it almost certainly had been rumpled to begin with.

Yawning, he made his way out of the tent and was arrested by the smell of sizzling meat. His stomach climbed up his throat into his brain and demanded immediate attention. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he headed in the direction of the smell, which turned out to be emanating from a fire a few tents down, where a small cat person was carefully frying a number of long strips of what looked like bacon.

"Can I have some of that?" Ral asked.

She? He? They? turned around and looked at him sternly. "Who are you?"

"Very hungry," Ral answered. "Can I have some food?"

"I'm supposed to be making breakfast for me and my brothers," the child responded. "You aren't any of those people."

Ral's eyes slid across to the meat, and his stomach growled loudly. "I could try being your brother," he suggested. "Don't you people have blood brothers or something?"

The child continued to stare at him. "I don't know what you mean, but I'm pretty sure you're not even a leonin."

Ral was starting to get slightly desperate. "Look, kid," he said. "I'm a guest of—honor—" sure, close enough "—here and I'm also really hungry. Let me have some of that." He reached forward, but the child jerked back, and Ral had to stop, for fear that she would let the meat fall into the fire, and he didn't think he could handle that without breaking down. It had been a bad few days.

The small child put hands on hips and hissed, puffing out the fur around their neck and getting right into Ral's path. Suddenly, as they peered into his face, the golden eyes widened. "You're the storm man!" the child said.

"Er," said Ral. "Yeaaaah. How'd you know?"

"I saw you last night!"

Ral stared. "You what?"

"You were in the sky! You stood up to Keranos! It was fantastic!"

Ral's eyes narrowed. What the fuck was wrong with this plane? Whatever, maybe this would give him a way to get food. "So that means you think I'm pretty great, right?"

"Yeah!"

"So how about giving me some of that food?" he asked, trying his best to sound wheedling and enticing. He wasn't certain it came out well. He didn't exactly have a lot of experience dealing with children.

The child looked speculative, and Ral was beginning to feel hopeful when they spoke up again. "Show me."

He groaned. "What?"

"Show me. I want to see your storm magic. If you show me your storm magic, I'll give you some of this."

He had to give them credit for guts, despite being irritated by it. "Promise you'll give me some food?" The child nodded. "As much as I want?"

"You can't have more than half of it."

"You drive a hard bargain. Okay, it's a deal." Ral held his hand up in a fist in front of their face and once he was sure he had their attention, opened it dramatically in a burst of electricity. Sparks surged along his fingertips, one of them jumping to the child's nose. They sneezed and jumped back, all their fur puffing up suddenly.

"Careful!" Ral exclaimed, reaching out to steady the meat, which was starting to wobble wildly.

"That was so amazing!" squeaked the child. "Show me again!"

"Not before I've eaten something," Ral grunted. "I can't do tricks on an empty stomach."

"Don't eat more than half," the child cautioned again, as they took the pan away from the fire, scraped the bacon off onto a plank off wood, and handed it to Ral. He immediately started shoveling food into his mouth. "Ouch," he mumbled as he burned his tongue, but he was too hungry to stop.

It took about three minutes to finish, because he forced himself to slow down after nearly choking on the first few gulps, and he had to make sure not to eat more than half, which would have been all too easy. Sadly, licking the last of the grease off his fingers, he looked up to give the plate back to the child—and blinked. His vision appeared to have quintupled.

There were now five small cats standing in a semi-circle in front of him. "These are my brothers," said the one in the middle, whom he recognized after a moment as the first one he'd met. "And my best friend. Can you do more tricks?"

Ral looked around the little circle. "Can I have more food?"

Breathing hurt. So, as Jace discovered in the next second, did moving. He couldn't even whimper without it hurting. So, instead, he lay and blinked, trying to figure out what was going on. His memories from the previous day were blurred and disjointed—a few images of a sky bright with starry pictures, a lot of lightning, and a large amount of Ral Zarek.

Surprising, Jace thought, how comforting it was to flip through those particular memories. He wouldn't have expected to enjoy anything about spending time with Ral, and certainly the previous day had been a whirlwind of pain and misery, but there were some highlights. Ral's angry insistence that Jace was going to owe him big when they got back, his surprising protectiveness, and—his hands on Jace's back, calloused and scarred but so incredibly gentle. In the light of morning, with his head a little clearer, Jace wondered about his reaction to those hands. It was almost as if—

"Where in Krokt's name is the healer?" Apparently, thinking about Ral had summoned him. The Izzet mage poked his head into the tent for a moment and then pushed his way in. "Are you feeling all right, Jace?"

"That depends," Jace croaked, wincing. "Does feeling as if I've been trampled by a horde of Gruul count as 'all right'?"

"What's a Gruul?" piped up a small voice, and Jace realized they weren't alone. A small feline creature was peering around Ral's leg. "Can we come in, Zarek?"

"Don't touch my friend," Ral instructed sternly. "He's hurt. Jace, do you, uh, mind?"

Jace blinked. Three more heads appeared to Ral's right. "No?" he said uncertainly. "Who are these?"

Ral seemed slightly embarrassed. "They're just some kids," he mumbled. "They gave me breakfast and now they won't leave."

Six—no eight—small cat-like creatures filtered slowly into the tent around Ral's legs. Jace stared at them, wondering for a moment why they looked so—puffy. It wasn't until a spark flew off the one on the end that he realized and started laughing wildly.

Laughing was painful, but he couldn't stop. He curled up on his side in the bed and howled, covering his mouth with his hand, tears springing to his eyes.

"Jace?" Ral said uncertainly. "Are you all right?"

Jace turned to him weakly, and realized that the Izzet mage hadn't been able to tell he was laughing, because a look of concern slipped off his face to be replaced with a defensive scowl. "You—you—made them puffballs!" was all Jace could manage to say.

"All I did was show them some lightning magic!" Ral protested. "It's not my fault if their fur is—responsive."

"Ouch," Jace managed. Every time he tried to stop, he looked up and saw the confused expressions on the small cat's faces, and he started convulsing again. It was agonizing. "Oh, Krokt, Ral, why?"

"I wanted them to get me breakfast!" Ral protested.

"What's so funny?" asked one of the kittens.

"Nothing," grunted Ral. He turned back to Jace. "I'm glad to see that you're feeling—" he broke off.

"What?" Jace asked, but Ral didn't answer. Instead, he hurried to the bed and leaned toward Jace, who instinctively started to lean away and then stopped at the first twinge of pain through his stomach and chest. "Ral—"

"Hold still," the lightning mage instructed, taking Jace's face gently with one hand and tipping it first to one side and then the other.

"You are making me dizzy," Jace complained. "What is it?"

Ral turned back to the circle of kittens. "I thought you said you saw the healer in here."

"We did," answered the first one. "I don't know where she is now, but a lot of the grown-ups are having a council, so she probably had to go too."

"Why is he still bruised?" demanded Ral.

"I am?" Jace asked.

"Yes," Ral said shortly. "And as far as I know, bruises aren't exactly difficult to heal."

He traced a finger lightly down the side of Jace's face, and Jace pulled away. "Ouch, that hurts," he said, as pain twisted down in the wake of Ral's touch.

"See?" Ral said in frustration.

"Well, don't blame me," Jace responded testily. "I'm not the healer. And I'm still exhausted, so maybe you should be letting me rest."

"Are you the oracle?" put in one of the kittens, apparently to him.

"What?" Jace asked in confusion.

"He's not an oracle," Ral said irritably. "He's just a nuisance."

"Thanks," muttered Jace.

Ral gave him a glare. "You're not important," he said flatly. "Not in an objective sense, I mean. Obviously, we are-" he made a face, "-friends."

You know, Jace thought tiredly. Instead of trying to send me obscure hints about what's going on, you could just tell me. In my head.

It was interesting to watch the sparks burst across Ral's back and play down his sides. The kittens gave out a long, collective, "oooooooh," as Ral's angry voice echoed in Jace's mind. I thought I told you to stay out of my head, Beleren.

I'm not reading your mind, I'm just—sending and receiving, Jace thought.

Close enough, growled Ral. I don't like you being in here.

Well, I don't like being injured and stuck on an unknown plane with no one telling me anything! Jace snapped back. It looks like we'll both just have to deal with things we don't like, doesn't it?

Ral sighed loudly and sat on the floor beside the pallet Jace was on. "Kids, go get the healer, will you?" he asked. "I'd like to talk to my friend alone."

The one in the front gave out a small, excited squeak, and then nodded. "Come on," she said to the others. "They want some time alone."

Jace watched them file out with some bemusement. "What was that about?" he asked.

Ral coughed. "No idea," he said immediately, and Jace gave him a skeptical look. "Okay, I may have an idea, but it's stupid," Ral continued. "They may not have entirely absorbed my denial yesterday."

"Denial?"

"The, er, the rest of the camp seemed to think that you and I were—more than friends."

"What?" asked Jace. Then, as he realized what Ral was driving at, "Oh! Oh." He laughed. "You must have been acting worried."

Ral sniffed. "I was concerned about the incarnation of law and order on my home plane, that's all."

Jace chuckled, which hurt his ribs again, and then asked again, "Ral, can you tell me what has been going on? My memories of yesterday are—fragmented."

"Someone tried to kill you and I got caught up in it," Ral responded grouchily.

"Yes, okay, I remember that part. What happened after I fell asleep? I—" Jace frowned. He had a vague memory of Ral's hand on his head and of someone—coming down from the sky? "I woke up, and you were—"

"Some asshole showed up calling himself a god," Ral cut in a little faster than Jace would have expected. "Said he wanted you to be his oracle. I told him no."

"Did your manner of communicating involve lightning?"

"It may have."

"How did that go?"

"Twelve against one? Not bad. Had to use up one of my mizzium charges, though, and we were in a slightly suboptimal situation when these cat-folk showed up and threatened to kill you."

"Wait—what?"

Ral waved a hand. "Long story. Anyways, they brought us back here and healed you up, and that's about it for yesterday."

Jace rubbed his forehead, then regretted having done so. The flesh was distressingly tender to the touch.

"So," Ral continued. "Do you think you're ready to leave yet?"

Jace opened his mouth to say 'probably', when a wave of dizziness washed across him, and he thought better of it. Though he felt better than he had the previous day, his limbs were oddly heavy, and his head was oddly light. He groaned. "I'm not sure," he said.

"Goddammit, Beleren, be sure. Do you have any idea how frantic Ravnica will be? Not to mention how in the name of the Multiverse I'm going to explain my absence to the Firemind."

Jace glared at him tiredly. "If you're so concerned about Niv-Mizzet's attention, then just go back yourself!"

Ral glared back, sparks rising from his hair and spilling over his face again, as electricity crackled across his chest. Despite his frustration, Jace was intrigued. He was sure he'd never seen Ral produce this much electricity, and he wondered if the lightning mage was losing control of himself as he tired. It hadn't occurred to him that Ral might have to expend energy to avoid shocking everything in sight. "I can't exactly abandon the Guildpact on a strange plane with no one else," hissed Ral. "I care about Ravnica, even if you don't."

"I also care about Ravnica," Jace gritted out between his teeth. "I just don't see how having you around and raising my blood pressure is going to improve my condition."

There was a mini-thunderclap as a small bolt of lightning shot out and struck one of the tent-poles. Ral shook himself in irritation, and one hand leapt to his belt, apparently adjusting one of the innumerable dials and gears he kept there. "Just rest, will you? I need you to improve so we can get ba—"

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" The tent flap opened to let in the healer from the previous day, a tall cat woman whose white fur was dappled with brown across her eyes and mouth. The kittens milled in with her.

"Nothing at all," Jace assured her, heading off whatever less-polite thing Ral had been about to say.

"Good morning, both of you. Zarek, the council would like a word with you, if you don't mind."

Ral mumbled something that was probably rude but at least unintelligible and got to his feet. "What's wrong with Jace?" he asked, as he paused in the entryway of the tent.

The healer knelt beside Jace. "The burns—"

"Why is he bruised?" Ral cut in. "Where are those coming from?"

"I'm going to investigate that now," the healer said calmly. "I'll let you know what I find out."

Ral made another indescribable noise and stalked out of the tent. The healer bent over Jace.

"I am Xenia," she said. "I'm afraid you were in no condition for me to introduce myself yesterday."

"Jace," Jace responded uneasily, hoping Ral hadn't given another name, then realizing she had called Ral 'Zarek'. Well—that was just too bad, either way. She didn't seem particularly confused.

"How are you feeling, Jace?" Xenia asked.

"In pain," he answered, wincing. "Breathing hurts. So does talking." In fact, he would much prefer to speak with his mind, but he didn't quite dare without knowing more about the plane he was on.

Xenia made a sympathetic noise. "I can probably help with some of the pain," she said. "But I've been trying to get rid of the bruises since last night, and they keep coming back. How were you injured?"

"It's all a little hazy," Jace temporized, and stretched out briefly to skim the top of her mind for information that he might be able to use, wishing that Ral hadn't left so suddenly. It was going to be difficult to coordinate, and even the mild effort he needed to peer through Xenia's surface thoughts made him dizzy. "I was attacked and the attacker sent a bolt of lightning through my chest—I remember that."

"Do you remember anything about the attacker? Or any more about the attack itself?"

Jace tried to shake his head wearily, and then gave up, as the room seemed to rotate over his head, and he had to fight the urge to vomit. "Not much. Just—someone holding me down and then a lot of pain."

"So they actually touched your skin to apply the shock?"

"Yes," Jace confirmed.

"Hm," Xenia said. Her soft, fuzzy hands moved gently over his skin, trailing blessed coolness and relief of pain in their wake. "Do you mind if I reexamine the initial injury?"

"No, that's all right," Jace said.

The places where her hands had stopped touching had already begun to hurt again.

The meeting, to which the kittens had led Ral, had already gone on far longer than he felt it ought to have. None of it was particularly interesting, since most of it was Brimaz and the other cat folk—leonin, wasn't that the word they'd used?—going on and on about things Ral didn't understand because he had been on the plane for less than forty-eight hours.

"Zarek? What do you think?"

"Uh?" said Ral, looking up quickly from bouncing a small ball of electricity back and forth from hand to hand.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, of course," Ral lied.

Brimaz fixed him with what he thought was probably a skeptical stare, but wasn't sure because he had no idea how to read a leonin's facial expression. "Do you think that such a thing is within your power?"

Ral blinked slowly. "Ah," he said.

Brimaz sighed. "In case you were distracted," he said pointedly, "I was wondering whether you thought it would be possible to teach the rudiments of your craft to some of my people."

"Well," said Ral. "It might be difficult. It's not something everyone is good at—"

As if on cue, three of the kittens raced past the tent, giggling and shooting sparks at one another from the ends of their fingers. Ral watched them go rather moodily.

"If you would at least consent to try, I would appreciate it," Brimaz said, sounding amused.

"All right," grumbled Ral. After all, they would be leaving in a few days. It didn't really matter what knowledge he gave out; it wasn't as if he planned to return.

"There is another matter that I wanted to discuss with you," the leonin king continued smoothly. "You say you are travelers from a far distance. We have met such travelers before."

Fuck, Ral thought, once again cursing whoever had decided to try to remove the Guildpact. He was almost certain they had been trying to frame him for the assassination, which made it even worse. Talk about unsportsmanlike conduct. "You have?" he prodded.

Brimaz nodded, and another one of the leonine put in, "Though kind, they were powerful and dangerous. They have shaped the course of this world and shown those who did not know the truth of our so-called gods."

Goddamn show-offs, Ral thought in frustration. "My companion and I are just trying to get home," he said. "Falling in with you was a complete accident."

"Yes, so you have intimated," said Brimaz. "And I have no doubt you're telling me the truth. We also have no desire to interfere with you or your—companion."

Ral's frowned deepened at the pause. Surely they'd believed him when he said he and Jace weren't lovers? Why would they have come to that conclusion anyway? He barely tolerated the Guildpact. Just because they had once had a single pleasant interaction didn't mean Ral was pining for him, the Izzet mage thought grumpily.

Brimaz sighed and looked at him. "The followers of Keranos desire your companion as their oracle, and I believe they fear you could unseat the gods themselves."

"I really don't see how Jace or I could unseat gods," Ral protested uncomfortably.

"Don't you?" This time the leonin king was the one to give Ral a sidelong glance. "You have shown yourself capable of standing up to Keranos himself. And there is much speculation about why Keranos desired your companion so strongly—among us, and, I have no doubt, among his followers."

Ral stared blandly back. "Jace is good at annoying people, that's about it," he said. Whether or not he liked the Guildpact, there was no need for everyone to know about Jace's mental powers.

Brimaz nodded, and once again Ral wished that either the leonin had more human-like faces, or that Jace himself wasn't incapacitated. It was too difficult to tell what the other creatures were thinking.

"We're grateful for you helping Jace," Ral said. "But we'll be moving on and out of your," he smirked, "fur as soon as he's capable of travel."

"Is it possible you might consider an alliance?"

"What kind of alliance?" Ral asked suspiciously.

"You hold the power to be a strong force for good here," Brimaz said. "As does your companion."

"Look," Ral said. "I don't want to get involved in local politics."

"I'd say you already are," Brimaz pointed out, and when Ral grunted in acknowledgment, continued. "We have helped you a great deal, Zarek. We don't begrudge this, and we will not beholden you. We simply ask that you remember this."

Ral groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was be swept up into a petty feud that didn't concern him. On the other hand, it didn't seem like a good idea to alienate their benefactors. "Okay," he said. Besides, they would be able to leave soon. "How can I help?"

Jace slept fitfully, fading in and out of consciousness. After Xenia had finished examining him, she had made several noncommittal noises and then told him to try to sleep and not to worry. Jace, decidedly unconvinced, had reached into her head and snagged the concerned uncertainty along with the whisper of strange poison, and promptly wished he hadn't.

Finally, he hiked up the simple shirt they had put him in and stared down at his chest. The burn had faded from red to pale whitish-pink in the wake of the healing magic, but one spot in the center was dark blue-red and swollen around a small cut that didn't seem to have healed at all. It was slowly leaking clear fluid. Jace shuddered, pulling the shirt back down and lying down with a sigh.

He forced himself back to sleep when he could, but his dreams were dark and muddled, and he wondered if he was actually accomplishing anything. He needed to get better. Ravnica was depending on him. Lavinia would be frantic by now—Emmara might have noticed his absence as well. Why wasn't the healer doing a better job? Should he tell Ral?

The tent flap opened, and the object of his consideration whirled in, carrying with him a fizzing cloud of angry sparks.

"I hate this plane," Ral complained. "I hate everything about it. There is no coffee, and there is no lab, and there is no civilization and everything. Is. POLITICS!" Lightning arced from his back to his hand, and Jace felt guilt twisting up along his insides. No, he wouldn't tell Ral. The Izzet mage had enough to worry about right now without him adding to it. He just needed rest.

"Argh," Ral said out loud before slumping down next to the bed. "How are you feeling? Better? Can I go home now?"

Jace tried to sit up, and a rush of dizziness washed over him. "I think I need some more rest," he said apologetically, and Ral groaned.

"How much sleep can one man possibly need?" he grumbled. "All right, but you owe me a head if Niv eats mine."

"It'll be credited to your account in the event of any unforeseen accidents." Jace managed a smile.

"Where is the healer?" Ral asked, staring around the tent.

"I've been sleeping on and off, what time is it?"

"Evening," the Izzet mage groaned. "I spent all day talking to people and trying to teach them storm magic. These chucklefucks wouldn't know a lightning bolt if it struck them in the face—which, come to think of it, I could probably get away with…" He paused meditatively. "What do you think, Jace?"

"I think that's a terrible idea," Jace said weakly.

"Yeah, probably," Ral said. "Don't want to get us kicked out of here before you feel better. It would probably take even longer to get back." That hadn't been exactly what Jace was getting at, but he'd take it. Ral's voice was tired and frustrated, and he was drooping slightly. "At least one of the kittens was doing a good job. The one who gave me breakfast. She's smart. Prime Izzet material. Kept shocking her friends' tails when they weren't looking."

"Glad it wasn't a total waste," was all Jace could think of to say. The room had started gently revolving again.

"You," said Ral, "should be sleeping. I'll stay with you. They'll get another pallet in here for me if I ask, and then you won't have to wake up to deal with the healer."

"You don't have to do that," Jace murmured.

"Yeah, well." Ral paused. "Somebody has to make sure the incarnation of Ravnican law and order doesn't die in his sleep."

"Thanks." Jace reached out, trying to catch the other man's wrist and squeeze, but his hand landed loosely on top of Ral's instead. The last thing he felt before the darkness closed over his head was a rough squeeze.

He stared down at the woman sprawled languidly across the bed, almost unsure what to do.

"Like what you see?" she asked. He did. His eyes couldn't stop tracing across her form, drawn from thigh to shoulder to—other places in between. But there was something very off-putting about the intricate, curling tattoos that covered her from head to foot. He had seen them lit up from within with purple fire, but now they were quiescent, only the depths glimmering faintly. "Come here," she ordered, and he did so, not as quickly as he thought she'd expected, but clumsily lowering himself onto the bed. One hand landed on her face, and he had to tell himself, oddly, not to flinch. Her hand reached up to brush his cheek, and he made a noise in his throat and moved forward to kiss her.

Her lips were warm beneath his, and for a moment, he was lost in the sensation of moving against her. Then something purple glittered in his side vision, and he pulled back to see that the tattoos were moving, sliding from her cheek onto his hand. He stared at them and tried to sit up, his heart thumping unpleasantly in his chest.

The purple lines shifted again, and he looked down to see her etchings rearing up like snakes from within her skin, grasping at his arms and pulling him downward toward her, but her face had been replaced with nothing but a strange, blank mound of flesh.

He screamed, struggling against the bonds that forced him down, heard a cold voice murmuring somewhere above his head, but he could not understand the words. A blade skimmed across his back, not penetrating it, just caressing him with its cold touch. Sickness slewed dizzy up his body in its wake, and he was falling, the ground below him surging up.

Before he could strike it, his mind pulled him back onto the rooftop, the storm crackling around his head. The boy standing in front of him shoved a rough wooden club beneath his chin. "Do you really think anyone will miss the rain mage?" the boy asked mockingly.

His feet teetered on the slick stone of the roof beneath him, hatred, fury and fear boiling up inside him, and he looked up to the sky above him and twisted. Light exploded around him, and he was drowning in it, arm flung out above his head, electricity twining down it so that it jerked and danced like a puppet's. He stared in interest as his skin swelled in its wake, as if a snake were writhing down his arm. The red scar turned white and then purple again, and he was back on the table.

White hot pain sliced through the nerves of his back, and he could only give out a choked cry. Hot moisture dripped down his face, and his own voice cried out, breathy with pain, in his ear, "Please stop. Please."

They were dizzy and in pain, but awake. Sitting up. Half of them crackling with the lightning reflected in the eyes of the other half. For a long, stretched moment, they didn't know where they were, and their hearts beat an asynchronous four-note phrase. Then Ral yanked his mind back into his own head. He was breathing hard, the phantom pain fading slowly from his back. "What the fuck, Jace?" he demanded.

The mind mage covered his face with his hands. He was shaking. "Sorry," he managed. "Sorry, I'm—sorry."

Ral could still feel the jolting sickness running down his back in the wake of the knife, and it made him shudder as well. Fuck. He'd had no idea—Jace had his arms wrapped around himself, taking short gasping breaths as he tried to calm himself down. Ral glanced around the tent. No healer. Of course. He shuffled across the floor of the tent onto Jace's pallet and pulled him into a rough embrace.

Jace stopped breathing for a moment, freezing into perfect immobility. "What?" Ral demanded. "You're shivering, Beleren. You're cold. You can't sleep if you're cold. If you don't sleep, you won't recover, and then we'll be stuck here on this godsforsaken plane even longer. As it is, Niv is going to have my head when I get back. Tanit, I hope I turned off the electricity to the grid, or I'm in even more trouble."

Inhaling another shiver that Ral felt every minute flutter of, Jace nodded tiredly. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Cold."

"I'm surprised you didn't stick your head into my lap again," Ral grunted. "Now go back to sleep. And for fuck's sake, stay out of my head this time."

"I'll do my best," Jace said with a shaky laugh. He started to lie down again, and Ral followed him down to lie pressed against his back. He could already feel the knobs of Jace's back standing out, despite the fact that just a day or two ago he'd been complaining that the mind mage was too heavy. "Ral?" Jace's voice said into the darkness, his voice coming out tired and muzzy.

"Yeah?"

"I'd miss the rain mage."