A Mischievous Tale of Magical Mayhem

17 | A Strengthening Bond

Ben stumbled and fell in the snow. He struggled to his feet in the knee-deep drift, trudged on, and fell again. This time, he rolled onto his back, squinting at the bright white sky.

The weather had cleared as much as it ever did in this cursed land, and the temperature rose steadily throughout the day. By midafternoon, Ben no longer needed his cloak, but by evening the chill had returned, bringing frigid temperatures with nightfall.

The first day, they had made good time, despite the difficulty, reaching the abandoned house as dusk descended. Maisie lit a fire and cooked stewed a rabbit Fann had caught, and they had slept well in front of the hearth.

In the morning, Ben had awoken stiff, sore, and as tired as if he hadn't slept at all. Maisie checked his wound, finding it much improved, and encouraged him to push through a little longer. Of course, they would have aches and pains; one night of rest was hardly enough to restore their energy after all their exertions between spiders and a freak storm. Nothing short of a long sleep in a good bed would cure what ailed them.

And so they had; Ben kept his mouth shut after that, trudging on without complaint. They were both too tired for conversation, anyway, and too apt to snap at one another if they tried.

Now, as he lay in the snow with such thoughts playing through his mind, weariness weighed him down like a leaden blanket.

If he could just rest, he'd be all right.

He closed his eyes; they snapped open again as a clump of cold snow hit him in the face.

"Wake up damn, ye!" Maisie shouted, her face red and her blue eyes wide with fear. Once he'd obeyed, she hauled him into a tight hug. "By the Four, Ben, ye can't sleep in the snow. Me dad told me stories. Travelers get tired and lie down for a rest, thinkin' they'll jus' shut their eyes a minute, but then they never wake up. They feel warm, but really they're freezin' to death."

"I'm not cold," Ben mumbled against her shoulder.

"That's what they all say!" She pushed him away from her and shook him by the shoulders. "Ben, I couldn't wake ye. I've been tryin' for ten minutes now. Fann's been runnin' in circles with worry and Sprout was ready to bite yer ear. I'd 've let it, if ye hadn't woke at last. And what in the name of Ghelth is this?"

She made a sweeping gesture, and Ben looked around with a jolt. Crocuses, snowbells, and other delicate early spring flowers bloomed around him in a ring.

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "They weren't there before."

"Ye're damn right they weren't! They popped up and grew before me eyes. I nearly fled out of fear. It's like ye're a witch, or somethin'."

Ben shrank away from her, the memory of old hurt reawakened, but she smacked his arm.

"I don't mean it like that, idjit. I mean there's somethin' strange goin' on wit' ye. More than usual, that is. Come on—up now. We're makin' good time, despite everything, and it'll be easier when we're clear of this snow. The ship's not half a day's walk, if we keep up our pace."

"Can we stop for a minute?" Ben asked, too exhausted to take another step. "Just long enough to build a fire, warm up, and eat. I promise we can move on afterwards."

Maisie couldn't fault him for wanting a respite. She was cold, hungry, and tired as well. Her fear was that if they stopped now, she wouldn't have the strength to get back up.

"Very well," she relented, taking a moment to observe her surroundings. "Let's see if we can find a cave to keep out the elements and conceal us from bandits."