A giggle rang out. It was the young women from before. One of them was waving again. I hesitated, and waved back. One of them shrieked something happy. Dash it, I hadn’t been extending myself. I couldn’t hear.
“What are they saying?” I asked him.
“They’re happy that you’re interacting with them,” he murmured. “It’s just things like, ‘She waved!’”
“Why are they being friendly to me?”
“Why not? They want a friend.” He drank again, and offered me the canteen.
I hadn’t realized I was thirsty. I wondered if that was a part of the struggle with the magic, the way I wasn’t in touch with my body.
“Do you want to walk with them?”
I coughed, choked on the water. “What?” Dagnabbit, I had to pull it together. I was a grown woman who’d had her wedding night, not some child infatuated with a boy.
“You could walk with them,” he repeated. “I would understand.”
“No. I’ll…I’ll make friends with them later,” I said. “You need me.”
The side of his mouth lifted. “Vrathgar is hovering about like a mother hen. I’m not going to die.”
“I’m not going to leave you to Vrathgar’s mothering. I’mbetter at it.” My face flushed. God, I didn’t want to be his mother. But…
“You’re right,” he said. “They’ll understand. You can make friends later. You don’t need to push yourself right now.” He started to speak again, stopped.
I sat there, feeling stupid.
A call sounded out, up ahead. He grimaced. “Alright—" he started to stand, and suddenly Tyralk was lunging over to us, Vrathgar behind him, scolding and helping pull him up.
“I’m fine?—"
Tyralk slapped his back in a hug. “Just take the help, you idiot. It’s a long way to the stones.”
My blood went cold. “The stones?” I said, and they blinked. I must have been using that power again, not thinking about it. “I…we’re going to reach the stones?”
Vrathgar glanced at Khal, nodded. “Yes. We’ll reach the kael by sundown.” He hesitated, like he too sensed the discomfort. “That’s why they're pushing so hard, to camp with the children and the old ones.”
“It’s warmer,” Khal said. He was avoiding my gaze again. I looked at Tyralk, who shrugged.
“Itiswarmer,” he muttered.
The whole group was moving again, mother’s voices haranguing children, people calling to each other.
“The stones,” I repeated.
“Nothing is going to happen,” Khal said. “I promised you.”
Vrathgar clasped my shoulder, an unexpected, clumsy comfort. “You can listen to him. Khal is good at politics, yeah?” He pulled our pack off the ground onto his back. “He’s not alone, and you’re not alone, alright?”
Someone whooped farther behind us, and this time I got the feeling that the young women were calling to Vrathgar, who studiously ignored it. I stretched the magic long enough to hear "—if you’re looking for things to carry?—"
Tyralk’s crutch fell into rhythm next to us, and each time he sensed Khal flagging, he complained, too loud, and gave us a reason to slow down.
The sun had set when the stones loomed ahead of us, one grand one looming larger in the center.
“Are we going inside?”
Khal shook his head. “The inside of these is small, barely a room. They’re more of a campground than an inn. We make our shelters around them, and we gather at the center for ceremony.” His breathing had grown more labored over the last hours.
