Baxley and I decided to pass the time with a game. It was stupid and easy, throwing a stick at the outside. The person who got it nearest the edge, without it being lost in the snow, won.
It was fun until Nicco scooped it up and tossed it into the fire. He ignored our glares.
“What’s the furthest south you’ve been, Amarya?” Baxley asked me shortly after.
“There’s a town called Svelmenk, it’s southwest, sits above Glassfyr…” I rocked my hand back and forth, “kind of.” I rubbed my hands together against the cold. “Have you been?”
“Never heard of it,” Baxley told me with his easy smile.
“It’s smallish,” I admitted. “For its size, they trade well in hearth rugs,” I saw his puzzled look. “Floor coverings.”
He grinned. “I know what a hearth rug is.”
“Oh, you looked” —I glanced at Nicco— “never mind. They weave them on what they call looms. Huge things. They’re pretty.” I scrunched my nose up as I thought about it. “If you like that kind of thing.”
“Merchant’s trade them up north?” Baxley guessed.
“Tried to. I don’t think they got many purchases after Claswik.” I moved closer to the fire. “Merchant got so lost he paid me four silver just to get him home again.” I smiled at Baxley’s chuckle. “Easiest four silver I ever made.”
The silence came again, and I settled into my cloak.
“I’m from Florlunia originally,” Baxley suddenly said.
I didn’t hide my surprise.
He nodded. “Only been to Crystallese a few times, once to Glassfyr, even though we have cool spells in Florlunia, your kingdom’s temperature was too cool for me.”
“And now you’re freezing your balls off in its deep north.” He laughed at my crassness. “What made you leave?”
Baxley’s face turned somber. “Knew I was a better fighter than a scholar, my blade is my fortune.”
Nicco turned his head then, his gaze on Baxley. A look passed between them, and I knew better than to pry.
“Sleep,” Nicco told us both. “Bond when I can actually walk away without having to listen.”
“You can do that now,” I muttered, hearing Baxley choke back a laugh, but I rolled over and gave him my back, even though I was doing what he asked. I did it on my terms.
We were pinned for the better part of a day.
I slept in shifts, woke to find one of them on watch, then slept again. The magic in my chest hummed through it all, steady and low, occasionally rising toward something I couldn't name before settling back. I let it. It wasn't straining anymore. It wasn't fighting containment. It justwas— present, patient, mine.
That was new too.
When the storm eased, I was the first to move, checking the trail ahead and reading the new snow for what had changed while we waited. Nicco appeared at my shoulder without announcement.
“South-southeast,” I said, before he asked. “The storm pushed new drifts across the direct route. We go around and avoid any Hulgrim hiding in drifts.”
“How much time does it add?”
I thought about it. “Not much. Less than if we tried to go through and come across them.”
He nodded and turned back to wake Baxley.
I stood in the new quiet of the post-storm morning, looked at the trail ahead, and thought about the fact that I was a trailfinder. That was what I was, what I did, and what I was good at. Whatever else was complicated — the magic, the column, the thing I wasn't examining that went by the name Nicco — this was simple.
Snow, ground, direction. I knew how to do that. I didn’t need to know anything else.
“You ready?” he asked from behind me.
