David Drake - Godess of the Ice Realm

So Kotia was a wizard. Well, it wasn't a surprise, given what she'd plucked him out of.

Thinking about that, Cashel looked back into the cave. The smoke was disappearing swiftly, vanishing like frost in the sunshine rather than drifting out in a haze that spread through the still air.

Cashel clenched and unclenched first his left hand, then his right, working out the numbness. His fingers tingled a little, but his grip was back to full strength. He checked the buttcaps of his quarterstaff. The iron of both showed a dull rainbow discoloration and was warm to the touch, but it hadn't been blasted away by the wizardry it'd channeled back in the shrine.

Cashel didn't know where he got the power that filled him when he faced wizards. He didn't think about it, didn'twant to think about it.

But he was glad it was there. Especially when he stood between his friends and evil.

Kotia was beginning to stir. Cashel squatted close by but he didn't touch her. Wizardry was just as hard work as breaking rocks, and the incantation that'd brought the girl to Cashel's side must have wrung her out. She'd recover by herself; and anyway, there was nothing Cashel could do to help.

As he waited, he looked into the cave. He couldn't tell for sure because of the changes stonemasons had made on the shrine in Carcosa, but he'd be willing to bet that the original cave there was as like to this one as twin lambs.

The rock wasn't, though. This valley's walls were granite, not basalt like the ridge above Carcosa. Chunks of mica glittered coldly in the stone.

Though the sky was bright, the sun was about to dip below the saw-toothed crags across the valley. The night would be pretty cold, and the only shelter Cashel could see was the cave they'd just come out of. He figured he'd rather stay out here on the slope if that was the choice.

Kotia rolled over and raised herself on an elbow. She stared at Cashel with the expression of a drover buying mutton on the hoof.

"Mistress," he said simply, since she didn't seem ready to start a conversation.

"You really are a big one, aren't you?" Kotia said musingly. She twisted her legs under so that she was sitting upright, facing him. "I thought it was just the image your soul projected. You don't see real bodies in that realm, you know."

"I don't know anything about that, mistress," Cashel said. So long as he remained squatting, their heads were pretty much on a level. "Where am I, please?"

Kotia got up with a fluid motion that meant she'd recovered completely. She was young and seemed in good health, but Cashel suspected she was also a very powerful wizard. He rose also, holding his staff out crosswise in front of him to balance his weight.

"You're in my world, where I brought you," Kotia said. "My father cast my brother and me out of our manor. I intend to go to our neighbor, Lord Bossian, but there's a… a spirit hunting me. He's already killed my brother. I need you to protect me from the spirit."

Cashel frowned. "Spirit?" he said.

"All right, then, a demon!" Kotia said with a flash of anger. "His name is Kakoral. But you're sworn to protect me. I warn you, your oath has power here!"

"I don't need threats to make me keep my word, mistress," Cashel said. "I just needed to know what I'd be dealing with."

He took the wad of raw wool out of his belt wallet and began rubbing his staff down with it. The hickory felt as smooth as glass to his familiar touch.

"If you help me…," Kotia said, sounding a little unsure of herself. Cashel had noticed lots of times it bothered people because he didn't get upset and carry on when they thought he should. "That is, Lord Bossian is a great wizard. He may very well be able to send you back to your own world. But you'll have to save me from Kakoral first."

"I've already said I'm going to help you, mistress," Cashel said quietly. He looked at the sky, indigo in the west and in the east a silky violet in which stars already glittered. "Is Lord Bossian's place close enough that we can get there before dark? Because we don't have much time if we're going to do that."

"No, no," said Kotia. "I'm too exhausted to travel farther anyway. We'll stay here for the night, then in the morning…"

She knelt beside the pack leaning against the rock at the cave mouth. It was a small thing, no bigger than the satchel in which Tenoctris carried the books and tools of her wizardry. Kotia took out a bundle no bigger than her clenched fist, then bit her lip and looked up at Cashel again.

"I'm sorry," she said. "My shelter is only big enough for me alone. Will you be all right…?"

"I'll be all right," Cashel said. And he would. It was going to get nippy, of that be was sure, but at least he didn't have to contend with rain or sleet. "I probably wouldn't be sleeping anyway, seeing's as this Kakoral's hunting you."

"Oh, he won't attack tonight," Kotia said briskly. She'd undone her little bundle and was spreading it into a tube as long as she was. It was as fine as gossamer and of the same shimmering material as her shift. "He'll come in the light. My brother and I built a fire. When the flames burned particular shade of red-orange, Kakoral appeared and… took my brother. While I ran."

"Oh," said Cashel. He gave his staff a practice spin. When he and the hickory reached the right rhythm, there was no finer feeling in the world. It was like the way sunlight sparkles on a waterfall, all shimmering beauty andhe was a part of it… "Well, we don't have a fire, so we'll be all right."

"Hewill come," Kotia insisted angrily. "I went into the Place of Souls when I knew I couldn't reach Lord Bossian before morning, but I doubt you'll be able to really help. I was desperate, that's all!"

"Well, I'll do what I can," said Cashel.

He turned his back and walked a few steps away to where the slope wasn't so steep. He resumed whirling his staff, a full series of exercises this time: in front of him, then overhead and jumping to use the shaft's spinning weight to turn him it so that he was suddenly gazing back into Kotia's furious eyes.

"Are you a wizard?" she demanded. "You had to be a wizard to have survived as long as you did in the Place of Souls!"

"I'm not a wizard, mistress," Cashel said, working the staff in a figure-eight-back under one armpit, then up over the opposite shoulder, then reversing. "My friend who was with me's a wizard, but I think she got clear before-"

Before what?

"-before things happened."

"I don't…," Kotia said. She probably meant "I don't understand," but she didn't bother to finish when she heard what she was saying.

Cashel nodded approval. He'd long ago decided most people didn't listen to themselves or they couldn't possibly talk all the nonsense they did. Kotia had her ways, but she was better than that.

She cleared her throat. "You're sure you'll be all right, then?" she said.

"Yes, mistress," Cashel said. "Though if you had something to eat in your wallet, I wouldn't turn down a bite of it."

"No," said Kotia. "I'm sorry, there isn't… I didn't have much time to prepare, you see."

"Sure," said Cashel. "Good night, mistress."

It was solid dark by now. The moon wasn't up, if there even was a moon over this place. Cashel heard a rustle as Kotia got down into her cocoon.

The stars were diamond points in the clear sky. The constellations weren't the ones Cashel was familiar with, though one in the north was close enough to the Seven Plow-Oxen that he could imagine it was familiar if he squinted.

A horn called, then another one from a much greater distance. The sounds were silvery and seemed to echo for many miles.

For a time, Cashel squatted with his back to a rock, looking out in the darkness. Then he got up and resumed his slow pirouettes with the quarterstaff. The exercise kept him warm.