Lovina stared at him. “Do you know where the cave is?”
“Ah …” She’d seen through him. His bravado leaked away, leaving him flat. “No, but our only chance of staying alive is to keep moving.”
§
It was like being in the clutches of numlock all over again: the gray obscuring her vision; the icy-cold nothingness inside her; the searing in her arm; the drudgery of one foot in front of the other, unable to think of much else. Right. Left. Step over a log. Right yourself from stumbling.
The only warmth had been the hand clutching hers. Dragging her forward when she could no longer walk of her own volition.
And now that hand was icy, too. Their blankets and cloaks were sodden, and they were chilled to the bone.
Still, Tomaaz pulled her on. She knew why: if he stopped, they’d never get up again.
Haven
The gray of dawn gave way to a gray wall of rock that rose above the trees to their right.
“There,” Tomaaz croaked, pointing at the pockmarked rock face. A flock of ruby swallows soared out of a cave, their underbellies flashing blood red against dark wings.
Lovina didn’t even look up.
His arm around her shoulder, they shuffled through the knee-deep snow. His shoulders sagged. Those caves were so close, but his legs were stone and feet were ice, making it a grueling task to get there.
The first cave they came across was at ground level and far too shallow, with snowdrifts piled high inside. There were a couple of caves up high, but Lovina could hardly climb. Tomaaz scanned the sky for dragons. If only he was a rider and could mind-meld with Handel or Liesar.
After stumbling further, there was an opening a few meters above them, half obscured by bush. It looked like there was a goat track to get up there.
“Lovina.” Tomaaz peered into the cowl of her cloak. Her face was blank and eyes dark-ringed. “We might have found a place. Wait here while I check the track.”
Her eyes darted to the trees. She nodded, hunching her shoulders and cradling her arm.
Tomaaz checked for tharuks, then pushed himself to scurry up the short steep slope to the cave. Shoving aside the brush, he entered. Snow had piled to one side of the entrance, but not very far. The rest of the cave was roomy and dry. Reluctant to leave Lovina alone any longer, Tomaaz rushed back outside.
She was gone.
Dashing down the track, skidding and leaving brown gouges in the snow, he followed her tracks. Behind a tree trunk, a shadow moved against the snow.
Lovina stepped out.
“Gods, Lovina, I was worried.”
“Sorry, I was sheltering from the wind.”
Tomaaz laughed. “I’ve found a cave. It looks great.”
For the first time since they’d run away from the tharuks, she smiled.
§
It was hard going, getting up to the cave. Lovina dragged herself inside, hoping to find some warmth, but it was bone-numbingly cold. It was dry, though. Her foot bumped something in the dark and she stumbled. She ran her hands over a rectangular wooden box. She tried to lift it, but, with only one good arm, the box was too bulky.
“I’ve found a chest,” she called.
Tomaaz came over. “Let me see.” He dragged it to the entrance, opening a bronze latch on one side. “Lovina, you’re fabulous. Look. This must be one of the safe caverns that Pa mentioned yesterday.”
She inhaled sharply. This was better luck than a golden eagle, not that Lovina had seen one for years. The chest held dry clothes, tinder, a flint, candle stumps and some dried meat and fruit. Her mouth salivated at the sight of the food, and her hand shot out. She couldn’t help it. She was starving.
“Here.” Tomaaz passed her some dried peaches. “Have these for now, until we can get something warm into you.”
The sweetness of the dried peaches made Lovina’s mouth water, but her teeth were chattering so hard it was difficult to chew.
He dragged the chest back into the cave, and then struck the flint. It flared, and he lit a piece of tinder, holding it up so they could see their surroundings. “More luck.” Beaming, he gestured at a blackened pot sitting in a crude circle of stones, and a stack of firewood against the cavern wall. “We’ll have a hot drink in no time. Pass me that candle.”
Tomaaz lit the candle stump and sat it on a high ledge, then gave Lovina a woolen undershirt and some breeches and a jerkin made of dark heavyweight fabric. “Um, you’ll have to strip your wet things so we can dry them. If you go back there, I’ll, ah … turn around and make a fire.” He blushed, the tips of his ears turning red, then busied himself with the wood.
Still shivering, Lovina tried her best to pull her things off with one arm, but it took forever and she kept stumbling.
“Are you managing?” he called, as the fire flared to life and the wood took.
True to his word, he kept his back to her.
She grunted. “A few more moments.” Abandoning all pretense at grace, Lovina sat on a cold boulder to tug her breeches up her numb legs one-handedly, and wriggled her way into her woolen undershirt. By then her arm was aching and she couldn’t hold the jerkin to get her good arm into it. “Um … my arm?”
He was there in an instant, bringing her over to the fireside. He eased the jerkin over her shoulders and onto her good arm, and nestled her sore arm against her torso. “That’ll stop your arm from being bumped.” His cheeks flushed again as he buttoned the front with her arm still inside.
“Right, time for a drink.” Snatching up the pot, he
