Apparently, D’Argen could wait as long as needed because when he opened his eyes after what he thought was a brief rest, he felt like he had slept for a few days straight. Thar was not able to assure him otherwise because the other man was still meditating. The air around D’Argen was so warm that he had started sweating under his furred cloak and though the ice under him was slightly wet, it was still solid.

Thar was not using Abbot’s spells anymore but it must have been day outside because there was a faint blue and white glow high, high above him. So high. Even the castle walls of Evadia were not that tall. It was at least three if not four times that height. It was so far to fall.

Since he was lying around and doing nothing anyway, D’Argen shifted his eyes from the imposing darkness and tonnes of ice and snow over his head to Thar’s figure. The dark stains on his robes had not grown since the last time D’Argen saw them but they were still worrying.

While Thar continued to meditate, D’Argen sat up. His body protested, stiff even if it had been kept warm as he slept. His leg was still hurting something fierce, the broken bone still not healed and his hip so tender, but at this point, it was a pain he could deal with. He did not use to have such a high pain tolerance in the past.

After making sure that movement would not make him scream or cry, D’Argen crawled over to Thar as quietly as he could and then reached out. Right before his hands touched the other man’s back, he paused. Thar was always so careful to ask for permission. He did not like being touched. He only touched D’Argen without asking first if it was a dire situation or if D’Argen was not able to respond. Usually, both events had to happen at once. It felt rude not to return the gesture. Instead of poking around at the rips to try and see how bad the wounds were, D’Argen slumped and looked away. He would wait for Thar to finish meditating and collecting as much of the cold as he could into him.

D’Argen was startled out of his thoughts when Thar’s body trembled. It took him two more trembles to realize that Thar was trying to suppress coughs.

“Hey, Thar,” D’Argen called his name.

The next time Thar coughed, he was not able to suppress it and dark speckles flew out of his lips and into his sleeve. They were just a shade brighter than the dried blood on his back. Thar was no longer meditating and was instead wiping the blood off his lips as if he could hide it.

“Are you ready to go?” Thar asked, ignoring D’Argen’s look of worry.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be.”

“The cold? Can’t you use it to heal—”

“My mahee is not strong enough.”

“What do you mean? You were able—”

“I used too much,” Thar interrupted as if that was enough of an answer.

“Then stop keeping me warm!”

“Your lungs are worse than mine,” Thar said and stood up.

D’Argen had to scramble to follow him up and, for a brief moment, he forgot about his bad leg. He reached out and grabbed Thar for balance and only then did the other man reach back to help him out. Once D’Argen was balanced on his own, Thar let him go. D’Argen, however, refused to let go and instead pulled Thar closer to speak right into his face. “My lungs will heal. We need your mahee to get out of here.”

“I used too much,” Thar repeated and his shrug was enough to get D’Argen to let him go. “Come. The path is this way.”

D’Argen limped toward him after collecting his hooks from the wall and then Thar, the fucking idiot, muttered one of Abbot’s spells and held his hand palm up in front of him to direct a cold white light around him and reveal their surroundings.

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When D’Argen saw the path Thar had mentioned, he finally understood what Thar meant by using too much of his mahee. The tunnel leading down was smooth all around as if made by water passing through the ice, except for the bottom of it. The steps leading down were almost too perfect.

D’Argen was slow, limping his way down the steps. With every step though, his irritation grew. The ice above and to the sides was so smooth that just looking at it made him want to slip and fall. The ice under his feet was rough with little shards sticking out. It was not natural. It was Thar, using his mahee again to make it easier for him. D’Argen continued with one hand on the ice wall at his side and the other stabbing the metal pole alongside his bad leg. The pain shooting up from the broken bone and to his still tender hip was only making him more irritable.

It felt like they had been descending for days. Thar kept the cold white light shining over his head so D’Argen could see where he was stepping. Thar also kept shifting the ice under their feet to make it easier to walk on. If they were not in the middle of what must have been a glacier, D’Argen probably would have been overwhelmed with the scent of the other man’s mahee.

“Do you need a break?” Thar asked, breaking the silence that surrounded them. His voice was quiet but the words bounced around the ice tunnel in all directions, only making D’Argen’s headache worse. If his head was not pounding like a spar with Vah'mor, he would have tried to consume the sound.

“Just shut up and continue,” D’Argen snapped out without stopping, even as Thar slowed down ahead of him. Once they were level, Thar held out one hand in front of D’Argen. The runner ignored the offer for help and continued ahead.

“Are you mad at me?” Thar asked, his voice quiet.

“Take a wild guess,” D’Argen responded through gritted teeth.

“But—”

“Just shut up,” D’Argen interrupted. He was so annoyed at the pain and Thar for being such an idiot. However, he had to focus that annoyance and the churning anger inside him into something productive. The next stab of the pole down by his foot was so harsh that it actually sunk a good few fingers into the ice. It did not come out smoothly and the action broke his rhythm. Thar was beside him immediately, helping him balance so he did not fall. As soon as D’Argen was secure, Thar let him go and stepped away.

“How much further?” D’Argen dared to ask, letting some of his fatigue show. “Without using your mahee!” he tacked on quickly with a glare.

“Not much,” Thar responded and started walking ahead again. D’Argen only had the man’s wide back to glare at. Those dark spots on his robes were so wrong. Thar belonged here, in the ice, and looking like it. He was pristine. The fact that his injuries were severe enough to cause so much bleeding, let alone enough to stain the magical fabric Lemysire used, was only an extra annoyance atop all the others D’Argen had.

By the time they stopped descending, D’Argen was sweating so much that the metal pole was slipping out of his gloved hand on every stab down.

Whatever tunnel Thar had created—or modified, it was possible he found it and just shifted the ice around a bit—opened up into a large cavern. Unlike the ice that had been surrounding them the entire time, this cavern had running water through it. More importantly, on the opposite side of them was a dark tunnel made of rocks.

Earth.

No more ice.

D’Argen wanted to weep in joy. If they had finally reached ground level, that meant they had no more to fall. Now, all they had to do was figure out how to get out without collapsing all that ice and snow on their heads.

“I need rest,” Thar said, interrupting D’Argen’s thoughts.

“Right there,” D’Argen said in answer and pointed at the tunnel as if Thar could have missed it. “We get there, then we rest.”

“No,” Thar responded with a shake of his head and then dropped down right there and then. He was immediately taken over by a horrible cough that left dark splotches in the ice.

“Just a little further,” D’Argen tried to coax him, even though every nerve in his leg was screaming at him, his ribs were trying to asphyxiate him, and his headache was pounding hard enough to bring the entire mountain down on them.

“It will take us a bit to cross,” Thar said and D’Argen was confused.

Instead of dropping beside Thar to rest, D’Argen limped over to the edge of the running water. Looking down revealed the water was dark and deep and too fast. If he could run, it would have been a breeze to get both him and Thar across. With his leg not even able to hold his own weight fully for a single step, it would be impossible. A look on both sides of the cavern revealed that the running water came out from under the ice on one side and sank down under the rocks on the other. The ice was too smooth for any ledges and the rocks were too steep. They could get across, one by one, using the hooks in the ice but…

D’Argen turned to glare at Thar when he realized why the man wanted the break.

“You’re not freezing the water for us to get across,” he snapped out in anger. Thar was already using so much of his mahee, already used up enough to admit to it, any more and…

D’Argen sat down close to Thar and went over their supplies in his head again.

“It will be just a single patch, not the whole—”

D’Argen snapped his head around so fast that he felt his spine crack. He glared at the other man and scowled. Thar did not finish his sentence and instead tried to clear his throat. That just led to him coughing yet again and trying to hide the stains in his sleeve.