“It’s all right.” I helped River to his feet. “We’re fine. Can you give me a hand?”
Tem pulled River’s arm over his shoulder, and helped him walk back to the two remaining tents. “Where’s Norbu?”
I couldn’t bring myself to recount what had happened. “The fiangul.”
We settled River in our tent next to Dargye, who was still moaning and clutching his arm. Tem turned to me.
“It’s deep, but I managed to stanch the bleeding with a healing charm,” he said, burying a cough in the sleeve of his chuba. “I didn’t have time to do anything for the pain, though. What happened to River?”
“He’ll be all right,” I said. “I think. In any case, there’s nothing we can do for him. Help Dargye. I’m going to try to get a fire going.”
What little wood we had gathered before was covered in snow, and damp. I piled it together nevertheless, hoping that I could put to use what rudimentary magic I had learned from Chirri. As I worked, the dragons fluttered one by one to my side. They had scattered during the fiangul attack, and now surrounded me, chirping worriedly. I excavated a few slices of dried apple from my pockets and sprinkled them on the snow. The dragons set to work immediately—they were not difficult creatures to distract. In that moment, I envied them.
Where was the yak? I dimly recalled seeing her charge down the hillside toward the glacier as the storm intensified and the fiangul approached. What would we do if she was lost or injured?
I set aside my troubling thoughts and tried to focus on the fire. I had taken one of Tem’s talismans, a circlet carved from beech bark that could be worn as a ring or pendant. But no matter how urgently I muttered the incantation Chirri had taught me, all I could summon was a tiny ember.
I cursed. Tears of frustration stung my eyes, and I flung the talisman aside. Something entered my peripheral vision with an eerie gliding motion.
The fire demon settled beside me. I can help you.
“Oh, really?” I wiped my hand across my eyes. “And what’s that going to cost me?”
Nothing. The fire demon watched me, still as a stone. Just a sniff. A sniff of your hair.
I turned my attention back to the ember. “Go away.”
Why do you fear me, brave one?
“First, stop calling me that. Second, I don’t fear you. I just want to be alone. Please.”
But you’re always alone. You’re brave, like River. You are not like the others, and so you are lonely. The fire demon tilted its snout toward me, nostrils twitching. Your soul is rich like honeycomb. Like strawberries.
I inched away from Azar-at, trying to mask the movement by reaching for more twigs. “Thanks, but I would rather you didn’t compare my soul to strawberries, if you don’t mind.”
I can help you. Azar-at’s tail wagged. It looked every inch like a dog eager to please, apart from the smoke fur and coal-like eyes. We could be friends.
I started at the echo in the words. You will meet a fire demon on your journey, Yonden had said. I advise you not to befriend it.
I tried to keep my voice even. “Like how you’re friends with River? No thank you.”
Azar-at leaned forward, nosing at the twigs and branches. The wood burst into flame.
I leaped backward. Azar-at moved away, but as it did so, I felt its snout brush against a strand of my hair that had come loose from its knot. I recoiled as if the creature had bitten me.
“Stay away from me,” I snapped, moving so that the fire was between us. “Or I’ll tell your master what you said. I bet he won’t be happy about you offering your services to somebody else.”
River is not my master. The fire demon’s tail was wagging again. I have no master.
Tem emerged from the tent, his face drawn. He cast a dark look at Azar-at.
“Go on, you,” he said, swinging a foot in Azar-at’s direction. “Get.” The fire demon darted away, back to the tent, and to River. I watched its bushy tail disappear inside.
“Are you all right?” Tem touched my shoulder.
“You shouldn’t do that,” I said, brushing him off. “It may look like a wolf, but it’s still a fire demon. You don’t want to get on its bad side.”
“Fire demons don’t have a good side to be on,” Tem said. “I don’t care about Azar-at. I care about you.”
I shook my head. “Aimo’s dead. Norbu is lost. Dargye and River are hurt. Everything’s fallen apart.”
“Hey.” He pressed my hand. “We’re all right. We survived.”
“Barely,” I murmured, rubbing my eyes. “We still have to climb Raksha.”
“What?” Tem stared at me. “How are we going to do that? We have no supplies. The yak ran off. Even if we find her, do you really want to keep going after all that’s happened?”
“What else are we supposed to do?”
“Turn around. Go home. We tried, and no one can blame us for that.”
“Go home?” I repeated. “What about Lusha?”
Tem looked regretful. “I didn’t want to tell you this, because I knew it would upset you. I’ve been tracking Lusha—her magic, that is—since we left Azmiri.”
I stared at him.
“I didn’t know what I was sensing at first,” Tem hurried on. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I’ve never done this before—I’ve used my magic more in the last two weeks than I have in my entire life. I didn’t even know it was possible to sense another person’s magic. Like us, Lusha and Mara have been setting wards every night, spells that leave a trace behind. Yesterday, for the first time, I couldn’t find that trace. I sent my magic out for miles in every direction.”
I felt cold. “What does that mean?”
“They’ve either taken a completely different route, which is unlikely—or they turned around.”
Tem didn’t meet my eye. He knew as well as I did that there was a third possibility. I pictured the chasm that had swallowed Aimo, the creatures that had taken Norbu. My mind recoiled. “Why would they turn around?”
“For the same reasons we should.”
I shook my head. “Even if what you say is true, this isn’t just about Lusha. You know what’s at stake as well as I do. If the witches get their powers back, they could destroy Azmiri.”
“Maybe there’s another way to repair the binding spell,” Tem argued. “We don’t know there isn’t.”
“You’re willing to take that risk?”
“Yes, I am! Because it’s a risk, and continuing isn’t—it’s death. We have no hope of succeeding anymore. If we go on, we’ll end up like Mingma.”
“Turn around, then.” I moved back to the fire, heaping it with more wood, but not before I saw the hurt in his eyes. That was good—I needed to hurt him. Because Tem was right: he couldn’t carry on any farther. He needed to understand that. “Go with Dargye. Take the pass through the Amarin Valley. Use your power to avoid the witches.”
“You really think I would leave you here?”
“I never asked you to come in the first place,” I snapped.
“You’re so . . .” Tem seemed to struggle to find words for what I was. “You’re selfish, Kamzin.”