The Black Road, Eganene

“Listen,” Tonelle shouted, entering the cabin. Her face was flushed as if she had a fever. Bekka knew she wasn’t sick. As much as she might have wished it were the case, as much as she wanted Tonelle to need a doctor or a hospital, it was nothing so exciting. The wind had been at her, biting, the red marks glowing along her freckled skin. Snowflakes dusted her shoulders and long pieces of hair had come undone from her braid.

Howel had been right. The man who sold Addi, Usif and Mika had warned of a storm, and he had been absolutely right. The snow had started like any other, but it did not stop. Hour after hour, it fell from the sky, carried on sweeping gusts that rocked their carriage.

It was cold, colder than it had been a few days ago, colder than it had ever been before. Bekka’s skin had grown tough like plastic, hard like something manufactured. It didn’t hurt, not yet, but it was strange and uncomfortable, like she had been dipped in some quick drying, hardening material that coated her whole body. Every movement felt like she was pressing against an invisible casing, summoning her limbs to push against their shell, to change. Her instinct was to hide beneath the sheet, to squeeze into the smallest ball, keeping her body heat to her center.

“We are not close enough to the Inn, so we will have to stop soon,” Tonelle said. There was a tremulous vibration hidden at the back of her throat and it made her sound like she was about to cry.

Bekka watched her lick her chapped lips. The wooden boards that formed the carriage’s frame were little insulation. The temperature outside was falling and the wind was remorseless. It was a constant assault, slashing at them with its cold fingernails, a stinging lash that slipped between the boards, striking flesh and leaving raised goose pimples in its wake. How much worse was it outside where there was no relief?

Snow caked the woman’s boots and dropped to the floor in chunks that hardly seemed to melt. Tonelle unraveled the heavy scarf she wore around her neck and handed it to Kat. “Pick the snow off,” she said and pulled off her gloves. Tonelle stepped closer and held her hands up to the lantern.

Bekka’s eyes widened. She couldn’t remember having seen her without her gloves before. The woman’s hands were raw and red from holding the reins, the backs chapped and worn from friction.

“Ceril, Kat,” Tonelle commanded as her eyes slid away from the lantern.

Bekka didn’t think she even noticed the waxy glass.

“Get the extra clothing out, all of it. You will each need several layers, as much as we have.”

Kat looked like she wanted to ask a question, but Tonelle waved her off, “Bundle up. Stay warm. You should be bunking together.” Her eyes passed across the cabin. “We are going to try and find shelter, but Martin doesn’t know how long that will take.”

Bekka watched Kat’s reaction. She hadn’t had a chance to ask her about the fire yet and it was killing her. She had been cataloguing her questions.

What had happened? Why couldn’t anyone else see it? Why was it bad?

Kat was angry with her, she knew that, but the strange yellow-eyed girl had told her that she would talk once she was ready. They couldn’t talk in the carriage, not where someone might hear them, but with the storm and the Creeling and their headlong rush, they had hardly had any time outside.

Magic, Bekka thought. Had she really seen magic? The voice in her head told her she had, but how could she trust the voice? Isn’t that what crazy people did, talked themselves into seeing things that weren’t there, using voices that didn’t exist to agree with them?

Except she had seen those waves of color come out of Kat’s fingertips. She had seen them spin and burst into fire. She had seen it. No matter how she tried to rationalize it during the long days of travel and endless boring hours of silence, she knew she had seen something.

Magic. She had thought a lot about it, trying to envision the waves, trying to get the picture just right in her mind. She wanted to remember everything about it, all the details, so when she talked to Kat she could sound confident and sure. She could see the lines now, see the way they intertwined in space. If she closed her eyes, she could see the oranges and reds swirling together, see where they met. She might have never been good at sports, but she had always gotten an A in art.

“Be ready,” Tonelle instructed, putting her gloves back on and turning back to the door.

Bekka watched her wince.

Was she really feeling sorry for this woman, the woman who had hit her with a dead rabbit? The woman who was going to sell her?

She shook her head, surprised at the emotion. She didn’t like Tonelle, but she didn’t wish her harm either. She just wanted to get back to her grandmother.

Tonelle left and Ceril began distributing the clothing. Bekka and the others were grateful to have the extra layers. She ended up with four shirts, three pairs of pants and several pairs of socks. She changed beneath her sheet, enjoying the prickly pain that came from her skin warming. Kat handed out clean blankets. They were old and worn, threadbare in some places, but Bekka took hers with a smile.

She piled them up on her bed, steadying herself on the uprights and arranging them just so. She was thrilled to have the warm clothes and extra blankets.

Glancing up at Kat’s bunk, she saw that the dark skinned girl had already disappeared beneath the covers. “Kat?” Bekka asked, an idea forming.

“Kat?” Bekka wasn’t surprised Kat wasn’t talking to her, but she wasn’t about to give up.

She hadn’t had much of a plan lately, no real idea of how she was going to escape and get home. She tried keeping her eyes open for opportunities. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but there just hadn’t been anywhere for her to run. A house, a business, a car, she hadn’t see a single sign of civilization since they left Philadelphia.

That’s civilization? the voice asked, but Bekka ignored it.

She was done talking to herself. She was done acting crazy. If she had seen what she saw, then she had to stop indulging that side of herself. She needed to pull it together, take advantage of the situation and figure out how Kat had done what she did. Bekka had seen something that she could only describe as magic. She seen the horrible creature that had eaten Tonelle’s horse.

“Kat?” she said again, more loudly this time. She took a breath, trying to put some weight into her words. She conjured the image of her seventh grade nightmare math teacher and pitched her voice to sound like her, “Come on, Kat. I know you’re not asleep.”

Nothing.

Ceril was giving her a strange look from the back of the carriage. Bekka ignored her, too. If she could get Kat to share her bunk, then they would have personal time to talk. They could whisper from inches away. She felt a tremor of expectation.

Bekka hardened her resolve and climbed up, her quadruple socked feet teetering on the wooden edge of her own bed as she peered at the sleeping girl.

Kat was facing the wall, a cloth wrapping her long braids against her head. From Bekka’s perspective, she was just a lumpy, curvy shape, covered completely in blankets.

Bekka froze, indecisive. Was she really going to wake her, call her bluff that she wasn’t already asleep? She had never engaged her like that, never defied her directly, and she had never seen anyone touch Kat. What if the she reacted badly? What if she shot those waves of fire at her? Could she even do that?

But if she didn’t wake her up, then she would never know. Carefully, she reached out her hand, her fingers hovering inches from Kat’s back. Bekka took a breath and glanced towards the back of the carriage. Ceril was awake, her eyes on Bekka. Jaks was at her feet searching through his crate. The only other person paying attention was Mika. He was in his bunk, but he was watching, the glimmer of candlelight reflected off his eyes.

She could do this. Kat wasn’t going to do anything to her here, in the carriage. Not where the others might see her. Well, they wouldn’t “see” her do anything, but they would know if Kat did something to hurt her.

Bekka was within an inch now, her hand just above the girl’s shoulder. Was the heat she could feel Kat’s body warmth?

She stopped moving. There was something wrong about the heat. She squinted her eyes. What if Kat made more of those waves, wouldn’t she be able to see them? Motionless, she peered at the girl’s back.

It wasn’t like what she saw at the fire, not those twisting vines, those waves of colored light that swirled like electric cotton candy spun out into the air. If she looked really carefully, there was a barely perceptible, colorless motion that seemed to hover above the girl. It was like waves of heat that seeped from blacktop on a cold day, the earth’s warmth bleeding out through its skin.

Bekka drew her back her hand. She had almost touched it! She had been so close, that she didn’t actually know if she hadn’t. Either it was harmless or she had narrowly avoided…something.

She swallowed, letting relief pull her back. She didn’t want to give up, but she didn’t want to get hurt either.

“Kat,” she said loudly, her voice cracking.

The girl twisted beneath the sheets, her face emerging like a turtle from its shell. “What do you want? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Bekka bit the inside of her mouth. She needed to say the right thing, make Kat her friend. “I…I want wanted to see if you wanted to share my bunk. Tonelle said…”

“It isn’t cold enough for that,” the girl hissed, her gold eyes flashing. “And I don’t need a bedmate. Not yet.”

“But,” Bekka tried, her hands tightening on the bed frame. “Tonelle said…”

Kat smirked. “No, she is right. We will have to bunk up sooner or later, but I prefer later. The helstrom will blow its own course. You should be praying to your gods we find that Inn before the snows grow too deep.”

Bekka leaned closer, refusing to back down. “But Kat,” she whispered, “if we were bunked together you could tell…”

“Tsss!” the girl spat, and Bekka flinched. “Go to bed, now.”

With that, Kat rolled over, ignoring her completely. Bekka didn’t think she should press the issue, not now anyway. She needed Kat to trust her. Forcing her hand where the others could see was not the way to go about it.

Bekka dropped back into her bunk and closed her eyes. With all the clothes she was wearing and the extra blanket, she was comfortable for the first time since…since she had been home. It didn’t take long; soon enough, she was back in the dream, back in the sparkling hall.

As she had done so many times now, she circled the ceiling, watching the party from above. She could see her mother and her father down below her. Her soul stretched downwards, arcing, aching to be with her mother. Bekka refused, she wanted to watch this time, to see what happened from above.

She could hear nothing, but the warm pink wind surrounded her. It buoyed her up so that she could see.

There, below her, was her grandmother. Young, beautiful, she was in concentrated discussion with the woman in the green, brocade dress. Dinner was called and the people moved to the table. Bekka floated, weightless, her movements just the slightest effort of thought. Below her, the people stumbled and collided, their mistakes hidden behind stiff smiles.

Were they drunk? she wondered. Was that why they were acting so confused?

She floated closer and soon she was above the banquet table. The feast was beyond lavish. It was a hall set for a king and queen. Roast pheasant and turkey, braised beef, stuffed fish and an entire pig with an apple in its mouth. A hundred other dishes paraded the length of the table, the surface of which was to have belonged to a single tree.

The people to her right and left were toasting, their hands wrapped about elaborate crystal flutes. Bekka was close to her parents, but she dared not look at them. This close, she would be drawn to her mother in an instant. As much as she longed for that, she wanted to be aware of what was happening.

The man to her right did not sip from his cup. He raised it in toast, struck it against the other glasses, but he did not put the crystal against his lips. Bekka drifted closer, interested. This was the man who had shown her mother his wounded wrist, the man with the bruises, the angry man with fat lips and the haunted face.

Why wasn’t he drinking? Why was his face frozen? His smile looked dead.

The pink light around her wavered, calling her. Her mother’s body waited, calling for her soul to enter. Bekka fought against it, turning her back on that safe space and drifting further down the table, away from her mother and father, away from her grandmother.

Who were these people? How did they know one another?

The men wore suits, but the material was thick and velvety and they wore their hair long to their shoulders. The women were dressed in elaborate ball gowns, the kind she saw the stars wear. The cuts were different, the goldthread stitching wide and unique. They seemed like they were from a different country or a story out of history.

She passed a woman who was standing and smiling, but whose glass had slipped out of her hand. Bekka tried to catch it, but it passed through her fingers and shattered on the tabletop. The woman staggered, her bosom and arms striking the table and falling to the floor. The people around her reacted, moving to help.

Bekka turned back. Behind her, other guests had fallen. The heavyset woman in the green dress was on the ground, blood leaking from her ears and trickling from her nose. Panic spiked through the dream, jagged lightning bolts of blackness.

What had happened here? What was wrong with these people?

Her mother and father were at the end of the table, their faces concerned. Where was her grandmother?

Bekka whirled, searching. There was no sound, she couldn’t hear what was happening, but it looked as though people were panicking. Blood, wine and food covered the floor. Chairs were overturned as men and women clutched their throats and fell.

Was that smoke?

It was difficult to feel in her dream, but whatever consciousness she did have, whatever form she was, started to feel fear. The light about her was flickering as if the pink waves she floated upon were going to disappear. She had never felt that before, not here inside the dream. It felt unstable.

The air around her had grown cloudy. Where were her mother and father? She couldn’t see them anywhere. She propelled herself to the end of the table, but the velvet-cushioned chairs were empty. Where were they?

She felt another stab of alarm and dropped closer to the ground. She was swimming through the fog now, the pink light about her wavering. What would happen if she fell? What would happen if that pink light simply disappeared? She didn’t know what was happening. She had never gotten to this point in the dream before.

The light shot out, a heavy, glowing pink beam, concentrated, thick, its mass quivering with its weight. At the same time, the light around Bekka abruptly died. Whatever link had connected her to her mother was severed.

She dropped out of the air, falling like a plate to the ground. Remorseless gravity pressed down along her back and legs, forcing her to the floor. Where was her mother? Her father? Where was her grandmother?

Bekka fell.

She didn’t hit the ground, but passed right through it, lost, unhinged and unanchored. Where was her mother? Darkness. It was all darkness. Layer upon layer, until she stood upon solid ground and seeing herself, stepped forward.

Bright light flared and she dreamt no more.

The carriage stopped suddenly, the whistle warning lost in the screeching wind. Bekka was thrown into the side of her bunk, her eyes snapping open as she hit the wall. The lanterns swung as if they were in a ship tossed at sea. She heard Lenold yell, his lower body sliding out of the nearby top bunk to hang in the air. Bekka saw him grab the upright to keep from falling to the floor.

“Gods be good,” Ceril cried from the back. Her voice was spiked with fear. Jaks was at her side in an instant, helping her out of her cot. The three newest arrivals were also in motion, their thin legs appearing over the sides of their beds.

Kat leapt nimbly down from her own bed. “Get your shoes on,” she ordered. “Something’s wrong.”

They all hurried to comply.

Tonelle threw open the door, a sheet of wind pressing against her back and pushing her up the steps. She slammed the door closed behind her. “By the gods, it is cold out there!” she exclaimed. “All of you, we are searching for a cave for the horses. They won’t survive this storm without shelter.”

“You go in pairs and hold hands. If you get separated in this, we may never find you again. Look for space in the mountainside. Go.”

Bekka filed out behind Kat, her arm out to stop the snowflakes from hitting her in the face. It was still daylight, but it was hard to tell. The sky was a block of grey clouds and swirling snow. It reminded her of the night she woke up outside her apartment or what she thought was her apartment. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that it hadn’t been her apartment at all.

After what she had seen Kat do, anything was possible.

They were on some kind of road, she realized, the carriages stopped between two mountaintops. The trees around them bent with the wind, their limbs swaying. Smaller brush grew at the forest’s edge. It had all been stripped of its leaves, and the skeletal fingers clawed at them.

The horses had their heads bent and their broad backs were covered with powder. Even the Clydesdales seemed to be floundering in the snow. They were huddled as close together as the yokes would allow, the snow reaching up past the pompoms of fur at their ankles. Bekka’s stepped off the rail and sank. The drifts came up past her knees, making it almost impossible to walk. She shivered dramatically, feeling the bite of the wind through the cloth of her shirts.

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Kat grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the tree line. She had to shout to be heard. “Come on, we have to hurry.”

Bekka followed her, her arm thrown out, going where the girl led. The naked brush scratched at her as she pushed into the woods, but the extra layers of pants protected her legs. The trees inside the forest cut the wind and there were deep piles of snow beneath the pines. Bekka looked up. She could see the snow was piled on the branches above her. It must be collecting up there and then falling.

“Come,” Kat called pulling her arm.

Bekka did as she said, following Kat’s beads. She was tired of waiting for Kat to talk. She wanted to stop, to ask the girl about the waves of light, about the magic that had come from her fingertips. She had been patient enough. They were about to get snowed in for who knew how long. When was she going to get another chance?

She grabbed Kat’s hand and pulled back, yanking the girl off balance.

“What!” Kat hissed, looked around. “Did you see a good place?”

Bekka shook her head, her hair flying, “No, but we need to talk.”

“Not now.” Kat called back. “We have to find shelter for the horses. We don’t have time for this.”

Bekka persisted over the howling wind, “I need to know what you did the other day, Kat. I need to know what I saw.”

The trees around them groaned, and Kat looked behind them towards the carriage.

Bekka followed her gaze. “There’s no one,” she tried again. “They can’t see us. They are back at the carriage or in another part of the woods. Now is the time!”

“You shouldn’t be able to see it! You should never have been able to see!”

“But I did see it!” Bekka replied, spreading her hands wide. “I saw the waves of color you made. It was beautiful! I saw them spin and then you made the fire. I know it wasn’t Lenold. I know it was you.”

Kat said nothing but stared at her with narrowed, golden eyes. Around them, clumps of snow thumped to the forest floor, displaced from the branches by the storm.

“How come they can’t see it, Kat? How come I’m the only one? I don’t think you would have been doing it out in public if you thought they could see it. Why is it a secret, Kat? If I could do what you did, I would want everyone to know!”

Kat pulled her arm away, “Then you are an idiot!”

“Why…”

“That is why I don’t want to tell you! You know nothing! You keep talking about things that don’t exist. Talking to yourself!”

Bekka swallowed, the wind was making her eyes tear and she wiped it away. “I’m not from here, Kat. I don’t know how I got here, but I’m not from here!”

But you are, said the voice.

Bekka ignored it. She had to make a decision. If she wanted Kat to trust her than she was going to give her something back in return. “I don’t know how I got here,” she told the other girl. “I just woke up here, OK? I don’t know anything about this place. I just know that I saw what you did, Kat. And if I’m the only one who can, if I’m your ‘sister’, then we should help each other.”

Kat said nothing, but wrapped her arms around her chest. White snowflakes landed on her back and hit her face.

“Please Kat. We can help each other get out of here. Help each other escape. You can teach me…”

The girl was shaking her head, “No, no, it is forbidden…”

“But I think I can learn it!” Bekka shouted. “If I can see it, then you should be able to teach me. I remember the patterns, I just need you…”

“I won’t,” Kat yelled over the screaming wind. “You don’t know what you are asking me. They will kill you if they find out.”

“Who?” Bekka asked. “Tonelle and Martin?”

“No, not them. They know.”

“Then who? The other kids with us don’t know your secret. You didn’t want me to tell Lenold. Does Ceril know? Or Jaks?”

“No. And they can’t. The Family hates my kind. They would kill me in an instant if they knew.”

“Who?”

Kat spit into the frigid wind. “You are a liar! I don’t care how stupid you are. I know you are lying now!”

Bekka grabbed her hand once more. “I don’t Kat, I swear. And I’m not stupid. I might be confused, well, I am confused, but I’m not stupid.” She took a deep breath, willing the girl to listen.

“You are right Kat, I haven’t been honest though. I hear a voice in my head sometimes. It… well…it talks to me.”

Kat’s eyebrows arched in disbelief. “You are crazy.”

Bekka dropped her hand, hugging herself.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Everything that has happened to me since I woke up in this place seems crazy. Everyone here thinks that this is real, that people actually buy and sell other people.”

“They do,” Kat agreed.

“And that creature we saw, that Creeling,” she shivered, eyes scanning the treetops. “They don’t exist in my world, Kat. We don’t have anything like them.”

She could tell the girl was interested. She was leaning closer now.

“Really?” Kat asked.

“I’m telling you the truth. They don’t exist in my world. But even that isn’t the biggest difference,” Bekka continued.

“It is what you did to start that fire! I’ve never in my life seen anything like that. It was beautiful, Kat. Amazing! And I think it can help us get out of here. Help us to escape.”

Kat grabbed her shoulders, flinching as a nearby tree bough cracked under the weight of snow. To Bekka, it sounded like a gunshot.

“I won’t teach you, Bekka. I can’t. It is forbidden. Someone could see us. Someone would know. And then it would my head alongside yours. Tonelle and Martin, they know I can do these things and they promised to find me the right owner. Someone who won’t kill me when they find out. Someone who might even want me. They say I could be valuable, but…”

“That can’t…”

“Otherwise,” the girl said, leaning closer. “I’m dead. They will find me. Bekka, it is a miracle they haven’t found me.”

Bekka couldn’t wrap her head around it. “But why would they want to hurt you? It is a miracle what you’re doing!”

“It is against the law, Bekka! Do you really not know that?”

“No…I didn’t…I didn’t know why you weren’t letting the others know.”

The other girl deflated, her shoulders rolling inward. Snow covered her braids, making her seem older than she was. “They would hunt me,” she said and her voice broke. “Wait! Did you hear that?”

Bekka nodded, “I think that was Martin’s whistle.”

“We need to go back.”

Bekka grabbed her hand. This was her chance, she couldn’t let it out of her grasp, “Not yet, Kat.”

“I already told you…

“No,” Bekka said, putting the raging storm into her voice. “You are going to teach me. I need to know how to light a fire and whatever else you know how to do. I need to get out of here and figure out a way to get home.”

Kat glared at her. “I won’t do it. I don’t even know if I can.”

Bekka shook her head. “You will, you have to. Otherwise, I will tell the others. Ceril. Lenold. Franc. Jaks. Everyone. I will tell them all what you can do. Do you think they will all keep your secret, Kat? Do you think they like you enough to be kind to you? To protect you from these Family people you are so worried about?”

“I don’t, Kat,” she continued. She didn’t even feel bad for threatening the girl. This was survival. She had to get out of here and if it took some blackmail to get Kat to teach her, then that was what she going to do.

The wind was keening now, the sound distorted by the heavy snow. Driven between the two mountaintop, it sounded like women screaming. She pitched her voice to be heard, stepping even closer to Kat. “How do you think Lenold will feel about the news? You think he will tell Tonelle and Martin or do you think he will wait until we get to this caravan to the Inn. I think there will plenty of people there who would be interested to know you can do magic.”

“Because that is what it is, Kat? Isn’t it? You can do magic. Real magic. And I can see it! Out of all the people here, I bet I am the only one. Isn’t that right? So, I think you can teach me. And if you don’t, I’m going to make sure everyone knows.”

Kat put her hands on her hips, straightening her back and pushing out her chest. It reminded Bekka of the way Tonelle stood when she was ordering them around. “Do you think I am the only one with secrets?”

“I don’t care if they think I’m crazy,” Bekka shot back. At this point it would probably be a relief. She could just talk to the voice whenever she wanted. Kat was smiling, and she felt a flash of concern.

She shouldn’t be smiling, Bekka thought, she should be worried.

She knows, the voice supplied.

“You are a stupid girl, just like I thought you were,” Kat growled. “Did you forget about your necklace?”

Bekka blanched. Kat had heard them talking that night! She must have been awake when Bekka had realized she lost it and when Ceril had given it back. “It’s mine,” she growled.

“You are property, Bekka,” Kat disagreed. “Everything you have is Tonelle’s and Martin’s. You can’t keep your precious necklace. You don’t own it anymore. People like you don’t own things. They are owned.” Her yellow eyes flashed, “And they will want their property back.”

Bekka choked. She couldn’t lose her mother’s necklace. It was the only thing she had left from her old life, the only thing that grounded her to her past, to a place where life wasn’t a nightmare. She thought about Lenold, how he had shown the slightest weakness in front of Kat and how she had kicked him down. She wasn’t going to make that mistake. She was going to be strong.

“I don’t think so, Kat,” she said, her voice solid. “I don’t think you would make that deal. Think about it. You give me up and I lose a necklace, maybe take a beating. But you? Those people want to kill you. Maybe Tonelle or Martin wouldn’t hurt you, but one day we will be in that market. We will be surround by thousands of people and then we will give you up, Kat, me or Lenold, or one of the others. You have made enemies.”

Bekka wouldn’t let the other girl look away. “You think you are like them, like Tonelle or Martin, but you’re not! You don’t own us. You’re the same as us! And when those people find out what you are, they will kill you.”

Kat looked stunned, “You wouldn’t!”

“I would,” Bekka growled back. “Unless, of course, I had good reason not to. Unless I was the same as you, could do what you do. Can I Kat? If I can see what you do, can I do it myself?”

“I don’t know. I have never met anyone else who could even see what I’m doing. I wouldn’t know the first thing about teaching you.”

“But you can try!” Bekka countered. “That is all I’m asking. Let me watch you do it. Let me see what you are doing. Try to help me.”

The dark-skinned girl was shaking her head. “Maybe. Let me think on it. We have been gone too long as it is. We have to get back.”

“Show me once,” Bekka demanded. “A show of good faith. No one is going to see us out here!”

Bekka knew she would agree. She had to. Plus, she was right. There was nothing out here but snow. This was the perfect time.

“I don’t…”

Bekka stepped closer. “Show me the fire, Kat. Just for a moment. Show me what you did.”

The girl met Bekka’s gaze, wiping the snow from her face with the back of her hand. The wind was driving almost horizontally now, and Kat left her arm thrown out to protect her eyes. “If I do this. We are agreed. It will be our secret. Forever. You will tell no one.”

“Of course,” Bekka agreed.

“Then watch.”

Kat crouched down in the snow and Bekka followed her lead. The snow was to her knees, so really, she just bent over. Between Kat’s fingers, the waves began. They were colorless at first and then spun with threads of orange, red and gold. Bekka’s eyes widened, mesmerized. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. A few seconds later, jagged shots of black emerged from Kat’s hands, slicing through the swirling color and then joining them, the darkness zigzagging through the pattern meeting it here and there and adding to its complexity.

Around them the storm seemed to fade, the world reduced to the space in front of her, to the waves of magic that emanated from the air. Bekka reached out her hand. If only she could touch it…

“No!” Kat gasped and the swirling mass of disappeared. She hadn’t even made a spark.

“But…” Bekka argued.

“No,” Kat said again. “You can’t touch it. It… I don’t know what it would do to you.”

Bekka was about to complain, but she thought she heard another whistle. Her head jerked up and back. “Was that the signal?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but we have to go,” Kat agreed. “We have been out here for way to long.”

“Fine,” Bekka nodded. “But tonight we share a bunk and you tell me how you are doing that.”

“Come on,” Kat replied, grabbing her hand. “I think we ought to hurry.”

Together they slogged back through the snow, hand in hand. Bekka’s pant legs were frozen and her shirt was soaked through her shoulders. She was shivering and so was Kat. She could feel the girl shudder, and her hand was soft and clammy. Snow continued to fall and the wind whistled, but otherwise the woods were silent. Occasionally, accumulated snow from the thick branches overhead would thump to the forest floor. They did not hear any more whistles.

“Are we going the right way?” Bekka called. It felt like they should have been there by now.

Kat stopped, her braids swinging as she turned. A couple hit Bekka’s arm and it hurt. The long lengths had turned to ice.

“I thought so,” Kat yelled back, her eyes were wide, her long, dark eyelashes dotted with white flakes.

“We should have been there by now,” Bekka said, wrapping her arms around herself.

Kat nodded, “I think you are right. We will need to backtrack, find our first set of tracks.”

Bekka felt a spike of alarm. “I don’t know Kat. I can hardly see as it is. Why didn’t we see them the first time?”

The girls looked out through the forest. Bekka couldn’t tell the difference between up or down the mountain, it was all just white snow and wind. The brown trunks of the trees were the only sentinels. There were no lights, no lanterns, no signs of the carriage. They were alone.

“We are lost,” she told Kat, fear making her voice drop.

“What?”

“We’re lost,” Bekka shouted back.

Kat grabbed her hand, hauling her back the way they had come. “We have to find the carriage.”

While they were moving, Bekka could feel her body temperature rising. Sweat trickled down her back, adding to the snow’s wetness. When she stopped, she was going to freeze. Her legs were exhausted. Even following Kat was difficult. The other girl might be breaking the snow for Bekka, but the fluffy powder was piled so high that it just fell back into the hole as soon as the girl moved her leg.

They were headed uphill. She couldn’t tell from looking at the forest floor, but gravity was helping her to orient herself. Large rocks, branches and fallen trees were now hidden beneath feet of snow. The girls slipped, again and again, helping each other out of the drifts.

Bekka kept up as long as she could, but with the frigid air it was only a matter of time. “Stop, Kat,” she called, her breath catching in her throat. “I can’t.... I need to rest.”

“We will freeze!”

“I can’t… breathe,” Bekka managed, but she knew Kat was right. Already her wet clothes had begun to harden, the chill material a second, deadly skin.

“What is wrong with you?” Kat shouted, the wind had picked up again, howling off the mountaintop in deep roars of sound and snow.

Bekka tried to stand up straight, to pull more air into her lungs, but the wind was making it impossible. Her lungs were being squeezed, the iron fingers clamping shut.

“Asthma attack,” she mouthed, but she didn’t know if the girl heard her.

Kat wasn’t looking at her. The girl’s yellow eyes were searching the mountainside, her arm flung out to block what wind she could.

Finally, she turned back. “It should be around here Bekka. I don’t know why we can’t see it!”

Bekka nodded, hopeless. After all she had survived, after Billy and Tonelle and the Creeling, she was going to die out in the snow.

“Bekka!”

Kat was calling her name. She looked up at her face. Kat was glaring at her, her expression intense. The golden-eyed girl grabbed her hand, “Fire. We need fire.”

Bekka nodded, trying to breathe.

Kat disappeared for a few minutes, the darkness and white snow erasing her completely. Bekka concentrated on inhaling, her shivering body making it difficult to expand her lungs. She wanted to curl up, but she knew that was counterintuitive. She had to stay upright and breathe.

Kat returned with her arms full of green branches. Bekka knew she must have ripped them off a nearby tree. The girl used her bare hands to dig out a circle of snow and then dropped the wood into the clearing. “Watch me,” Kat mouthed into the wind.

As before the waves of light sprung from the girl’s fingertips, the ribbons of yellow and red spinning beside her. Bekka reached out her own hand, her frozen white fingers dipping into the waves, the beams coursing through her as if she wasn’t there.

From the side, she saw Kat’s eyes widen, but the girl didn’t stop. It was like her dream, like that waves of pink light that had buoyed her throughout the room and into her mother’s body. She could see them now, see the individual dark and light strands that composed the beams and waves.

Feel it, the voice inside her head coached. You feel it. Draw deep, Bekka and spin the majic out.

Bekka didn’t hesitate, but followed the suggestion. It didn’t feel like anything more than a rush of heat, but suddenly threads of yellow and red whirled out from her fingers. She felt Kat spasm beside her, but she didn’t stop her own work. Bekka bent forward. She forgot about her asthma attack, about the cold air and wet cloth that was stealing her body’s warmth. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate, to pull whatever Power there was inside of her out to join Kat’s.

Jagged black lighting bolts flashed from Kat’s fingers, zigzagging and flashing through the swirling mass of golden and red. Bekka closed her eyes and willed the blackness from her own fingers. She didn’t stop to consider where the energy was coming from or what kind of Power she was harnessing.

Gently, the voice whispered inside her mind.

Bekka felt something connect inside of her, some kind of valve opening, a rushing tide of strength and energy hastening from somewhere outside of her and into her body. It flooded through her, so fast that she thought she was going to drown, but it seemed to dissipate into her instead of overflowing. Bekka tried to direct the tinniest trickle through her fingertips.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the crackle of flame, the last jagged black bolts rushing from her fingers to spin with the other colors. She fell forward on to her knees, the warmth of the fire radiating against her cold skin.

Kat rushed over. “You did it!” she said.

The girl grabbed her hand, but Bekka wasn’t looking at her. She made fire, real fire.

“Look!” Kat said, her voice filled with wonder.

Bekka reached out her other hand. There was something wrong. Snowflakes continued to fall, hissing into the flame and landing all around them, but they didn’t touch either of the girls. Bekka narrowed her eyes.

She was right!

All around Kat there was colorless shimmer, like the waves Bekka had seen earlier as Kat pretended to sleep. She watched as the snowflakes fell out of the sky, striking the invisible barrier and disappearing. Her mouth opened in amazement. Kat was melting the snow out of the air.

The dark skinned girl pointed at Bekka’s arm and she glanced down. It was happening to her, too! The snow wasn’t touching her either. Bekka stared in wonder, as the snow spun towards her and disappeared instantly. She scooted closer to the fire, feeling the warmth from her knees to the top of her head.

The two girls sat together, huddled as close as they could to the flames. Slowly, their shivering stopped and the coals grew red and low. It had to have been an hour already.

“I did it,” Bekka said, finally. “I did what you did. I made magic!”

Kat nodded. “You did. And this?” she murmured, petting her dry clothes and the colorless wave of light that shimmered almost imperceptibly around her entire body.

“This is wonderful,” Bekka agreed. “You were doing it before.”

“I was?”

It was Bekka’s turn to nod. “When you were pretending to sleep. I almost shook you to wake you up, but I could see… whatever this is and I didn’t know what it would do to me.”

“Interesting,” Kat murmured. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“My feet are still wet though,” Bekka observed.

“Mine too,” Kat replied. “And my knees and legs where they are touching the ground.”

“I wonder if that is why,” Bekka said. “Whatever this is, it must not be too strong.”

“It seems to only melt the snowflakes falling on us.”

Bekka smiled, "I wonder what else we can do.”

Kat said nothing for a few minutes. Bekka glanced at her face, but the girl had a faraway look and she didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts.

“We need more wood,” Kat said finally, her voice thick.

“I’ll go with you,” Bekka offered. She liked the feel of Kat’s hand in hers, and whatever was going on with the colorless light, she didn’t want to risk it disappearing. Despite the fire, she was pretty sure it was the only reason they were both alive.

The protective barrier that surrounded them might have kept the snow off their bodies, but it did little for the cold. The frigid wind still attacked them, and they hurried to collect more wood and make it back to the fire. The material inside Bekka’s shoes was cloth and it collected the snow that made its way between her clothes and the leather uppers. Her body heat or the barrier melted it and turned the base of her shoe into a cold slushy soup.

Kat arranged the firewood one handed because Bekka didn’t want to let go. The yellow-eyed girl smiled at her. “You are going to have to let go some time.”

“I know,” Bekka agreed. “I just don’t want that time to be now.”

“We need make the fire as big as we can,” Kat told her. “Tonelle and Martin will look for us, even in this storm. We are worth too much money to them.”

Bekka grimaced. “I don’t want to go back there.”

“I know,” the girl replied. She was sitting as close to the fire as she could get, her hair pulled over one shoulder so it would not burn. Color had returned to her face and there were bright red spots glowing on her high cheekbones. Bekka hadn’t noticed how grey and pale Kat had grown until that color had come rushing back. She must have been close to hyperthermia herself.

“We can’t stay out here. Not even with our fire and this… energy around us.” The girl held up her hand to stop Bekka’s words. “You don’t know, Bekka. You told me before that you weren’t from around here, that you didn’t know our customs, our ways.”

“This storm isn’t just a storm. They call it the helstrom and it will last for days. A week maybe. It could even be more. If we tried to survive out here, we would die in our sleep. We could never build the fire high enough, make it strong enough, to survive the night.”

Bekka interrupted, “But what if we slept in shifts…”

“This is just the beginning. Soon it will snow harder and the winds will become unbearable. Our energy, or whatever is that is melting these snowflakes, I don’t think it will be able to help us with that kind of storm. As soon as we slept, we would die. We would be buried.”

“God,” Bekka whispered. “But what if we found one of those caves Martin was looking for. Couldn’t we hide in there until the storm was over?”

“What would we eat? It could be a week or more. We would grow too weak to fetch firewood and then the cold would kill us. I know you want to leave, I believe you, but it can’t be now.”

“Then what do we do?” Bekka asked.

Kat pulled her to her feet, “We are going to get more wood and then we are going to get some more. We got lost, but they will see our fire and they will come for us.” The golden-eyed girl took a deep breath, “I know they will come.”

Bekka had been forced to concede that dropping Kat’s hand was a necessity and they were thrilled to discover that their protective energy shell remained over both their bodies. They took turns running for fuel and warming their wet clothes.

Each trip for fuel was exhausting, but Bekka returned eagerly after each time. She and Kat would use their magic together, pulling the threads from the air and sending the jagged bolts of black into the fire. Each time, the flames rose higher and higher. And each time, Bekka felt a thrill of excitement that ran from her head to her toes. She was doing it! Magic!

The fire was large enough now that it had melted the nearby tree branches, the incoming snow disappearing around them. The two girls sat as close to the fire as they dared, warming their hands again. Bekka’s body was sore all over, but adrenaline still coursed through her system. Her mind was a whirl of amazement as she played through the steps she now knew by heart.

“That was it!” Kat said, suddenly, standing.

Bekka looked up in confusion, “that was what?”

Kat pointed into the darkness, “That way! I heard it again. The signal.”

Bekka’s heart plummeted into her stomach as she climbed to her feet. There it was again. She heard the whistle clearly over the wind.

Bekka tried to smile, but she knew it looked false, “Good.”

“It is good!” Kat exclaimed. Bekka knew she was faking her enthusiasm, but appreciated it nonetheless.

“All right,” she said, taking the bait. “Why is it so good?”

“Because we can get back now. Get to shelter. You know we can’t stay out here.”

“Right,” Bekka choked. “We should go then.” She was trying not to cry, trying not to let her frustration and exhaustion get the better of her. These last few hours had been most amazing of her life. She could do magic! But they were headed back to Tonelle, back to captivity.

“It will be fine,” Kat said. “I know you don’t want to go back, but we have to. We can’t stay out here.”

Bekka knew she was right. The snow was another foot higher, the powder coming almost up to her hips. It took too much energy to move a couple of feet. “I know. We can go.”

Kat nodded, her beads clicking, “Good. Come on then.”

It didn’t take them long. Gravity pulled them off the mountain, their footsteps becoming long jumps, even with the deep snow. And once down, they didn’t have to search for the wagon. On the flat, white road, Tonelle and Martin stood, half hidden within the swirling white snowflakes.