“Why did you do it?” Vlahna asked Ilvani. “You knew someone would see you.”
“There wasn’t time to ask permission,” Ilvani said. Her gaze turned inward. “I felt the raven fly, and I couldn’t trap it. The wind was too strong.”
Uneasy murmurs went through the gathered crowd.
“You’re crazy,” Vertan said, “just like they said. You and your brother-you’re no prophets of Tempus-you’re just insane.”
Ashok prepared to make a jump for the wagon, but Ilvani spoke again.
“His soul was at rest too long,” she said. She spoke slowly, as if trying to sort out the words. “I felt it go, and there was nothing left to save. The shadows rose around the rest.” She met Ashok’s eyes. “I knew it wasn’t real, but the danger was real. I had to call you back.”
And suddenly, shaking off the rage and battle tension so he could think clearly, Ashok understood.
“Let her go,” he said again, but this time he was in control of himself. “She did it to save us. We were starting to fade. She brought us back from the edge.” He looked at Skagi and Cree, who nodded.
“I didn’t even know my own name,” Skagi admitted. “I was lost.”
“They’re lying to protect her,” Vertan insisted. “They’re all traitors-”
“You should look to your own,” Ashok said, addressing Kaibeth. “You heard the witch. A soul flew.”
Kaibeth’s black eyes widened as comprehension dawned. She wheeled her horse around and rode out from the caravan to find the rest of her sellswords. Ashok saw Tuva and Vlahna exchange grim looks. Vertan kept the dagger at Ilvani’s throat until Kaibeth returned, galloping into their midst with her hood thrown back and a haunted expression on her face. Her breeches were soaked, as if she’d been kneeling in the snow.
“Arveck’s dead,” she said. “It looks as if he fell off his horse about a mile back. No one … I didn’t even see him fall.” She looked up at Vertan and said wearily, “Let her go, you fool, and come help me retrieve Arveck’s body.”
Vertan’s arm went slack. He dropped his dagger and stepped around Ilvani to get down from the wagon. He caught her eye and quickly looked away.
“Accept my apologies for Vertan,” Kaibeth said to Ilvani before she rode away. “You likely saved us all.”
The words were hard for her, but she’d said them. Ashok watched Tuva ride away with Kaibeth to help with Arveck. Vlahna went to get the rest of the crew back in line.
Ashok, Skagi, and Cree went to Ilvani’s wagon. The witch sat down and rubbed her neck where the dagger blade had been. Ashok saw the tremor in her hand, and she murmured something under her breath.
“… were just useless again,” he heard her say. “Cut them off.”
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
She looked at him and the brothers, their scorched chests, and the snow in Ashok’s hair. “You’re back,” she said, sounding satisfied.
“Thanks to you,” Cree said.
“Did he hurt you?” Skagi said. In his own grumbling way, he sounded more solicitous than usual.
“It burns my skin where they touch,” Ilvani said. “It always does.”
Skagi nodded. His manner toward the witch had subtly altered, and not just because of what had happened here. Ashok sensed a connection, however tenuous, between Ilvani and the people around her, which hadn’t existed before, even in her most coherent moments. She was starting to be able to gaze into one world and communicate what she saw to this one. And as Ilvani’s hold on this world tightened, the connection between herself and others grew stronger. Ashok wondered if she was beginning to separate what was real and what wasn’t. She hadn’t found this level of clarity since she’d received her vision from Tempus about Natan’s death and communicated it to the rest of Ikemmu.
Vlahna rode back to them. “We’re camping for the night,” she said. “There are some ruins up ahead, an old caravansary that should give us defensibility and enough shelter from the snow for fires. We’re going to lose another full day’s travel, but there’s no use trying to go any farther in this weather. It could get more of us killed.”
“So could staying in one place,” Cree said.
Vlahna nodded grimly. “At least this way we can keep an eye on one another.”
She rode off, and Ashok and the brothers helped the rest of the crew make camp at the ruins. The rundown stone structures, skeletons of an old trading post, provided enough cover to shut out some of the constant wind, and there were fire pits already dug that just needed the snow cleared away.
Ashok saw Tuva speaking with Tatigan and some of the drovers. He assumed they were making arrangements to bury Arveck.
Daruk walked through the camp sometime later, whistling to himself. “Music we’ll have tonight, another tale, another song,” he said. “Come join me and dance, friends! We have to give the shadar-kai something to chase away the gloom and cold. We want their spirits here with us, don’t we, friends?”
It was difficult for Ashok to tell if the bard was serious or if he was mocking them all with his encouragement. But the thought of music and movement, anything to keep the numbing cold at bay, seemed to cheer the whole crew, and they worked quickly to get tents set up and cookfires going.
He finished securing the nightmare and several of the other horses when Mareyn came over to him with two bowls of stew. She handed him one of the bowls and tossed him a chunk of bread to go with it. Ashok caught it and nodded his thanks.
“I was sorry to hear about your friend,” Mareyn said. “Arveck.”
“He wasn’t a friend,” Ashok said. “He was one of Kaibeth’s men.”
“I see.” She pointed with her bread at the scorch marks on Ashok’s bone scales. “Looks like the witch hit you with a nasty spell.”
“Nasty enough to keep me alive.” He took a bite of stew. The meat in it was on the verge of spoiling, but they needed to use as much of it as they could in case they lost more time on the road. He dipped his bread in the broth and took a bite. The meat would give him energy, but the flavors did nothing to stimulate his senses.
“Gods, this is horrid.” Mareyn dumped the contents of her bowl on the ground and ate the rest of her bread. “Oh and look-more good news approaches.”
Thorm, the black-bearded dwarf, stalked toward them. Ashok had seen little of the merchant during their journey, and he was more surprised to see the look of anger on his normally emotionless face.
“Where’s your little dog, Mareyn?” the dwarf demanded. “He’s always the first one by the fires at night, so why isn’t he there now?”
“I left him with his mother and father,” Mareyn said patiently.
The dwarf grunted in what Ashok supposed was appeasement, but he still glanced around the camp as if searching for the boy. “He has no business rooting through my wagons. Spell components, potions-the boy could get hurt.”
“I gave you my word he wouldn’t be a bother again, and he hasn’t been, has he?” Mareyn said. “Go away, Thorm. You’re souring my stomach, and that’s saying something, after this meal. I tell you it won’t happen again.”
The dwarf nodded, satisfied, but he still walked away grumbling. Mareyn rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on her breeches.
“Les really doesn’t mean to be a pest,” she said. “But he has no place in a caravan crew-any fool except his parents can see that. It’s not the life for him, so what can he do but go poking about in other lives to see if any of them fits?”
“How did you come to be his guardian?” Ashok asked. They went to sit near one of the fires while Ashok finished his stew.
“Luck, of course,” Mareyn said with a grin. “I came to Ikemmu with a caravan because I wanted to train in katar fighting, and I knew there were warriors in the city I could learn from. What I didn’t know was that the shadar-kai are reluctant to share their knowledge with humans. I didn’t have enough coin to buy training from the sellswords, so I took up work with the caravans again until I could afford it. By that time I was in love with the traveling, and then I met the Martucks.”
“This is a hard country to love,” Ashok said, looking around at the bleak white landscape, “almost as hard as the Shadowfell.”
“The harder the journey, the more interesting the people you meet along the way,” Mareyn said. She caught
