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Pyetar started turning around. “That was great—”

Iryana doubled over, falling forward as her knees crashed into the snow. She moaned, wrapping her arms around her body as if that could ward off the pain. The magics inside her crashed into each other in waves.

“Iryana!”

She dry-heaved over the snow, barely managing not to vomit. The pain was unreal, like sharp-toothed monsters were trying to rip their way out of her. Her vision danced, darkening at the edges.

“Fucking shit,” she groaned, barely audible.

Pyetar pulled her against him—he must have dropped to the snow beside her. She seemed to sink into his coat, the softness far warmer than the cold biting into her knees and shins. Iryana tried to focus on that instead of the pain. Her whole body shook, and she couldn’t stop a moan from escaping through her lips.

“What’s happening?” Pyetar’s hands tested around her body as if he’d find an injury. “How do I help?”

But she couldn’t answer him, couldn’t make her mouth form words. Her muscles locked up painfully.

“Why is it this bad? You didn’t say it was this bad,” he pleaded with her.

Iryana pleaded too. Make it stop, she begged her magic. Please.

She turned her nose into Pyetar’s coat. Into the smell of woodsmoke baked into the fibers.

Finally, her muscles calmed enough that she could form words. “I’m okay.” She sucked another breath in, fighting the nausea. “Need a moment.”

“You’re not okay,” he growled, one hand rubbing up and down her arm while the other held her tightly against his chest.

“It passes, and then I’m fine,” she groaned.

She could feel him shaking his head, though her eyes had fallen shut.

“How much worse is it going to get?”

She didn’t answer. Didn’t know how to form the words.

“You can’t risk it.” His voice was hard, nonnegotiable.

“Don’t tell me what to—”

“I swear to the gods, Iryana. This isn’t a joke. You can’t hurt yourself like this. You can’t let yourself—I just need you here, okay? I need you to stay okay.”

“I won’t be reckless,” she mumbled. “I think it was that bad because of all the arrows…”

“Don’t use them then. Or any of your forgings. Especially not the arrows.”

She didn’t bother answering, just let the comfort of Pyetar’s arms around her sink in.

Eventually, the pain was at a manageable level. “I think I’m ready.” She moved to get up.

Pyetar helped her to her feet, gripping her arm and watching her carefully. “Are you sure?”

She felt… perhaps not the best. But they needed to get moving, or the cold would sink its claws in too deep. “Ready enough.”

“We need to find some place where you can rest.” Worry tightened his face.

She opened her mouth to say she was fine, but he glared at her. “Fine, lead the way.”

After gathering their things, Iryana moving gingerly, they set out again.

Pyetar led them through the forest, consulting his map. He didn’t have any safe points that were near enough for him, so he led them toward higher ground where he knew of a suitable cave.