Start small. Build carefully.
I pulled heat from the air currents below, where the temperature was marginally warmer, then drew it up, concentrating it, shaping it into a focused wave of warmth directed at the exposed ice. I infused it with magic and sent it toward the huge slab of ice.
The temperature around the formation began to rise.
The ice responded immediately. Sublimation accelerated, solid becoming gas, skipping the liquid phase entirely. I watched, fascinated, as particles lifted from the surface, sparkling in the morning light.
It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so dangerous.
Time for the hard part.
I expanded my awareness, feeling the thermal currents above and around the formation until I found the natural updraft created by the peaks’ geography. Then I fed it power, warming the air directly above the ice, creating a column of rising heat.
The particles followed, pulled upward by the thermal barrier I was building.
It was like conducting an orchestra. Every element had to work in harmony. Too much heat and I’d destabilize the cliff face. Too little, and the particles would escape my control.
“That’s incredible,” Raoul said, awe blazing in his voice.
The particles rose higher, carried by the thermal column I was maintaining. They sparkled like diamond dust, catching the sunlight as they climbed above the peaks, above where anyone lived, dispersing harmlessly into the upper atmosphere.
Perfect.
Sweat ran down my back despite the cold. This level ofmagical precision took every bit of training, every scrap of power, and every moment of focus.
But it was working.
The ice continued to release its trapped particles, and I guided them upward, away, safe.
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time felt elastic when I worked magic this complex.
Finally, I slowed my pace. The exposed ice had released the majority of its surface particles. What remained would take weeks to fully dissipate.
When I opened my eyes, my vision swam.
“Easy,” Raoul said, his arms tightening around me. “I’ve got you.”
“It worked.” My voice came out hoarse.
“It did.”
I leaned back against him, exhausted but satisfied. “One down. How many more did we identify?”
“While you worked, we found five more exposed formations,” Warren said. “But none as large as this one.”
I could do five more.
I had to.
We worked for the rest of the day. Each formation required the same careful preparation and application of magic. Raoul stayed close for all of it, providing warmth and support and the occasional check when I pushed too hard.
“You need to eat,” he said after the third formation, pressing dried fruit into my hands.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re swaying.”
“That’s just the wind.”
