“There is a place for both science and magic,” Bryn said. “Our healers are skilled, though I envy the fact that Mage Marna could mend a broken bone with just a few words.”
Saraj added another log to the fire, standing back as smoke billowed upward. “You’re right that both take skill and years of practice to master. I’m sure if I saw a Mir healer sewing a cut closed with thread, it would look like magic to me.”
Bryn peeked at the bandaged wound on her own arm as she wondered what it would be like to have the ability to heal herself. “I hope for the chance to learn more magic when we’re back in the Baersladen. I have only three hexmarks—four if you count the translation one, but that one draws off Mage Marna’s magic, not mine.”
“Three hexmarks are three more than any other Mir citizen I know of,” Saraj said kindly.
Bryn tipped her chin questioningly at Saraj. “How many do you have?”
“Twenty-two.”
Bryn gaped, impressed. “What do they alldo?”
Saraj smiled as her hand drifted to her shoulder to feel the raised scars beneath her clothes. “Everyone receives the same hexmarks at the beginning. The finding spell, the spark spell, the sleep spell—that one helps yourself fall asleep, not put others to sleep, which is much more advanced. Those three don’t require much skill beyond being able to speak the words and learn the hand gestures.”
Bryn snorted. “They weren’t that simple for me. It took me days to get the finding spell to work. It kept leading me to Rangar instead of the lost lamb.”
Saraj laughed softly. “Well, you didn’t grow up surrounded by magic. Baer children pick up the ways of hexmarks from a young age.”
“And your other marks?”
“Many are to help me hunt with Zephyr. Superior eyesight, the ability to move quietly through the woods.” She dropped her voice. “Did you know there are some to enhance pleasure . . . with a man?”
Bryn raised her eyebrows.
Saraj winked. “I’m sure you’ll want to get those hexmarks once you and Rangar are wed.”
Before Bryn could reply, a weak voice called from the nearby carriage, “As though Bryn and Rangar haven’t already ravished each other. In fact, I know for certain that they have.”
“Val!” Bryn jumped up, running to the carriage where he lay on blankets on the carriage floor. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Like I was attacked by wolves.” He sat up, wincing, and gingerly touched the blood-soaked bandage around his side. “And then drank an entire bottle of ale.”
“That last part is your own fault,” Saraj chided. “Bryn, help me change this bandage. There are water jugs in the trunk at the carriage’s rear.”
Bryn fetched a water jug, and together the women cleaned the dried blood off Valenden’s torso and eased a fresh bandage around him. Saraj looked worried as she tied off the bandage. “The wound is deeper than I originally thought. There’s no way to clean it out fully.”
Wincing, Valenden eased himself back down to the blanket. “My aunt can burn out any infection with a spell once we get to Barendur Hold.”
“It isn’t infection I worry about,” Saraj muttered, glancing at Bryn. “At least notjustinfection. These aren’t normal wolves. Bryn and I examined one of the dead ones—we think they may be sick.”
“Sick? What kind of illness gives a creature strength and speed like that? Those were the healthiest damn wolves I’ve ever seen.”
Bryn patted his bare shoulder. “I’m sure you will be fine, but you should save your strength. Try not to move more than you need to.” She frowned at Saraj. “He’s shivering. Should we move him closer to the fire?”
Saraj considered this, then said, “It’s too much of a risk. If the wolf pack returns, you and I can likely make it to the carriage in time, but he wouldn’t be able to. I think it’s best he stays here. We’ll load him up with blankets.”
They unpacked every wool blanket they’d brought, and buried Valenden under it. After it was done, Bryn yawned, rubbing her eyes.
“You should sleep, too, Bryn,” Saraj said. “I’ll keep watch by the fire, and we can trade places in the morning.”
Bryn was too exhausted to argue. The carriage floor was just wide enough that she could lay down next to Valenden, curling under his blankets. She wrapped an arm carefully around his unhurt shoulder to keep him warm.
“Good night, princess,” he muttered, already half-asleep again.
“Good night, Val.” After a few minutes, she whispered, “I fear for Rangar alone in the woods.”
But Valenden started snoring, and Bryn sighed and closed her eyes.
