They sat around the lantern, and Estral did teach him, hesitantly at first, uncertain of the gift Idris had given her, then more strongly as her confidence grew. Karigan found herself amused by Enver, with his melodious Eletian voice, singing such a common song, especially the parts about belching ale bubbles. Whatever magic he had used to shield their campsite from the rain, it not only kept them dry, but seemed to warm them as well. Karigan’s mood lightened, and any tension she’d felt since leaving North was vanquished.
When the song ended, Enver said, “You see, Lady Estral, you can sing. Your voice will not fail you.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, “but one day it will leave me, as it is borrowed. I don’t know if I can face being silenced again.”
“You’ll get your own voice back,” Karigan told her. “We’ll find the thief and get it back.”
Estral smiled wanly. “Thank you for your confidence. You seem to have it when mine fails.”
Karigan thought that was what friendship was about.
They retired to their tent for the night, the cat choosing to sleep on Estral’s face. She lifted him off, spitting out orange hair, and placed him between her and Karigan.
“I think he needs a name,” Estral said. “Something other than ‘Cat.’”
Karigan yawned, pulling her blankets to her chin. “Let me know when you come up with one.”
The cat was actually an asset in their small tent, giving off more heat than one would think a creature of his size capable. He was better than a hot warming stone, and softer. The vibration of his resonant purrs was like a massage to the small of her back.
• • •
The dome of dryness and warmth Enver had placed around their camp had been so effective that it was a shock when Karigan crawled out of her tent and discovered the world outside the dome was coated in ice. Morning light shone golden across the glazed landscape. Ice sheathed the branches of trees and shrubs, which chimed in the breeze. An enchanted fairy world it looked. It was also perceptibly colder, and Karigan wrapped her arms about herself.
Enver stood looking outward. “Winter still has some strength in it.” His breath fogged the air. “I do not think we should remove ourselves from this place until perhaps tomorrow.”
Karigan mourned the waystation anew. So they were going to be delayed after all, but at least at the waystation they would have had four walls, a roof, and a fireplace. Enver’s shielding spell was nice, but it did not have the solidity of log walls. He was right, though, that they should stay put. The slippery and sharp ice would be treacherous to the horses. Overhanging limbs could crash down on them beneath all that weight.
“It looks like a realm for the aureas slee,” Karigan said.
She had meant it lightly, but Enver’s response was serious. “I do not think the aureas slee was behind this. It feels . . . unmanipulated.”
Unmanipulated. The idea that some elemental could purposely create such a scene? She did not want to think about it. Instead, she set to building a fire, grateful she’d collected wood the night before. It was relatively dry, and soon she had smoky flames crackling.
Estral and the cat emerged from the tent, both stretching and yawning. The cat then trotted over to the fire. When Estral’s eyes popped open, she gazed in wonder at their surroundings.
It had been a sound decision not to continue the journey. Even as they sat by the fire, all around them trees creaked and the snap and crash of ice-laden branches reverberated through the otherwise still forest. The cat meowed in protest and hid his head beneath the tails of Estral’s coat, and the horses snorted in alarm, except for Mist who nuzzled the others in an attempt to calm them.
Karigan thought she could use some calming herself. This was not her first ice storm, but every time a limb crashed in the woods and ice shattered on the ground like a thousand glass bottles, her frayed nerves caused her to jump and her heart to pound. Perspiration broke out on her forehead. The noise bared memories from across layers of time, of a chamber of ice, a horse screaming . . .
Bam! Another stout limb snapped and she wanted to scream. A vision rushed into her mind of a metal device in a man’s hand, its explosive report and the smoke it emitted, Raven going down in the throne room of the emperor. She cried out.
“Karigan, are you all right?” Estral said.
She covered her ears as another ice-laden branch smashed to the ground. Estral put her hand on her shoulder. Karigan bent over with a gasp. “Raven, Raven, Raven . . . ” she murmured, her cheeks moist and vision blurred. There was muffled conversation between Estral and Enver, and then, she did not know how much later, Enver took her hand from her ear and pressed into it a mug of a hot, herby-scented tea, with a hint of tangy spice.
“This will make it easier for you,” he said.
She eyed him suspiciously, but when another tree cracked and fell and she almost dropped the mug, she took a sip. It did relax her, but her heart still thudded with every fallen branch.
“The noise reminds you of something in the future time?” Estral asked her.
Karigan shuddered and nodded, but would say no more.
As the day wore on and the explosive noises in the woods became less frequent, Karigan was further calmed, and entertained, by Estral teaching Enver drinking songs. She wondered what his people would make of it when he brought those songs back to Eletia. It was dusk when she noticed the horses growing nervous, and it was not from snapping branches this time, for the forest had quieted. Mist gave a shrill whinny, and the cat stood with his ears back and fur on end. His growl was so menacing that Karigan had to take a second look to make sure he had not turned into a catamount.