As the chill soaked deeply into her bones and she felt as if every muscle in her body was seizing into tight knots, they came to a stop by mutual agreement. Jason melted water and heated some food for them, while Allyra’s numb fingers fumbled to set up the tent. Later, Jason walked around the tent, placing wards all around them, ensuring they’d have ample warning should Xolani and François try to sneak up on them.
The windproof fabric of the tent managed to stop the worst of the wind’s rage, but Allyra maintained her grip over her Gift to ensure their tent didn’t get ripped away with them inside. She felt better after eating some warm food, but even then, she hesitated inside the tent, reluctant to remove her layers of clothing and subject herself to the bitter cold.
After dithering around for a few minutes, she eventually sat down and untied the laces on her boots, grimacing as she pulled them off. It was only the first day, and already her feet were sporting multiple blisters, rubbed raw from the unfamiliar movement of skiing. Next, she gritted her teeth and pulled off her bulky outer layers, leaving her in long-sleeved thermal underwear, which she imagined was not in the least flattering.
Jason was already tucked into the sleeping bag, and upon closer inspection, she realized that he’d zipped the two sleeping bags into one larger one. Allyra shot him a questioning look.
He let out a short bark of laughter. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not trying to seduce you. Simply put, we need to conserve heat, and this is the best way to do it.”
She acknowledged the truth of his words and climbed awkwardly into the sleeping bag. There wasn’t much room to move, and it felt far too intimate to face Jason, so she turned her back to him. After a moment’s hesitation, he moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her, pressing her back into him. She was blanketed by his incredible heat, and for the first time since they were dropped into this icy hell, she started to thaw out.
As much as she’d imagined that it would be impossible to sleep in such proximity to Jason, the exertion required over the past day, combined with the sudden warmth, meant that sleep quickly crept over her.
As she slipped toward sleep, she whispered, “Do you think Xolani and François are also conserving heat?”
She felt Jason’s rumble of laughter against her back and his breath on the back of her neck. “I think they’ll do whatever they need to do to win this thing.”
* * *
They settled into a routine of sorts—waking up before the sun rose and eating a quick breakfast while still curled in their sleeping bag. Next came the tedious process of putting on all their layers of clothes, the entire exercise taking at least fifteen minutes. Finally, they’d stow the tent and sleeping bags onto the sled and start their trek for the day. On a good day, they’d cover twenty-five kilometers in nine hours of skiing. On a bad day, when crevasses dotted their route, they’d manage no more than ten kilometers. But good day or bad, they had to fight for every inch.
At the end of the day, Jason took on most of the chores in setting up camp. He became efficient in putting up the tent, warming up food and water, and putting up wards. Despite her protests, he’d refused her help, silently acknowledging that she took on most of the load while they traveled. Atmospherics weren’t considered real contenders—not in the Elemental Trials and certainly not in The Five Finals. But in the harsh Antarctic environment, her Gift was key to their survival. Her bubble kept out the worst of the wind and cold, and when they came across deep crevasses, she molded the Air to carry them across.
Most nights she felt too exhausted to eat, collapsing into the sleeping bag as soon as Jason put the tent up. But Jason always woke her up, forcing her to swallow down some calorie-laden food.
As the first few days slipped by, she noticed, despite her exhaustion, that Jason was starting to walk deeper and deeper into the night, setting his wards farther and farther from the tent. And finally, on their seventh night in the tent, as he settled into the sleeping bag beside her and pulled her closer to him, she muttered sleepily, “What’s wrong? Why the paranoia?”
Jason was silent for so long that his fear filled the tent, piercing her consciousness and forcing her into crystal-sharp awareness.
“What is it?” she pressed.
“We’ve made pretty good progress,” Jason said, his breath warm on the back of her neck, sending shivers climbing up her spine.
“That’s no reason for paranoia,” she said.
“We’ve made pretty good progress because we have you. And your Atmospheric Gift. Xolani and François are Infernos. They must know that if it comes down to pure survival and speed, we’re going to win.”
“What are you saying?” Allyra asked, her mind sluggish but slowly starting to grasp the concept behind Jason’s fear.
“They must realize, as I do, that the only way they’re going to have the advantage is in combat. So…”
“At some point, we’re going to have to fight them,” she finished for him, her mind finally catching up to Jason’s.
Allyra felt Jason nod behind her. “If it was up to me, I’d set up an ambush—the sooner, the better. The longer they leave it, the more likely we outpace them altogether.”
He sighed. “We need to be ready, Allyra.”
After a restless night, they rose earlier than usual, taking the extra time to ensure their baldrics were tightly strapped and their weapons at the ready. Allyra spent the day reaching as far as she could with her
