Brother Thistle smiled. “You sense the cold on a physical level, but the sensation is so slight, you would not be aware of it if not for the mental practice. Let me emphasize the word practice. It takes years to master this method. But even in its simplest form, a focused mind is a powerful tool. It will help you.”
Help me kill the king, I finished in my head. Mastering these skills could mean the difference between success and failure.
“Why didn’t I sense your cold?” I asked.
“I was repressing my frost,” Brother Thistle said.
I turned to Arcus. “Were you deliberately making your cold stronger so I could sense it?”
He shrugged. “A little.”
“Well, don’t. Move somewhere else, and I’ll see if I can sense you. And you, Brother Thistle, perhaps you can do the same. I’d like to see if I can sense you, too.”
He shook his head, pushing up with his walking stick and stretching. “I must take my old bones inside for midday prayers. Arcus, will you continue the lesson? Miss Otrera, I expect all your attention when we train. Every morning, here, after prayers. Show me dedication and I will show you things you never dreamed you could do.”
“And you’ll tell me what you’re training me for,” I added.
He nodded, then walked toward the abbey. I hopped up and shook the cobwebs from my limbs, stretching tense muscles and wincing at the pins and needles in my feet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Arcus.
“Who says we have to sit on the freezing ground?”
He nodded. “You stand and I’ll move.”
“It’ll ruin it if I can hear you clumping around in those boots.”
His jaw tightened. “I know how to move quietly.”
I closed my eyes and returned to the word. Thoughts came thick and fast. I took a deep breath and let them flow over me. As before, it took a few minutes until my mind began to quiet. This time, though, I stayed half in, half out of the still place. A part of me was searching. Searching for cold.
Nothing.
No, wait. There, on the edge, right there.
Slowly, poised in the middle of the endless universe, I raised my arm and pointed. I heard a harrumph.
“Very good,” Arcus said, his voice closer than I’d expected. “But let’s see how you do when I move farther away.”
I nodded and breathed deep, centering myself.
Floating awareness. Searching.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
A pulse of cold to my left. I raised my arm and pointed.
“Good. Let’s try farther still.”
I breathed, the thoughts fewer now. The world was empty. In that state, I was alone but not lonely. For a moment, I was whole. But a part of me searched for something outside myself. My heat longed for cold. Where was it? Where?
I raised my arms, palms out. Searching.
On the tip of one finger, then on my palm. A cool whisper. I moved my palm to the right, then left, then right until I sensed where it was strongest. Straight in front of me.
I pointed and earned a graveled laugh. “You’re not half bad at this, Lady Firebrand. I was never very good at this game. Brother Thistle is teaching you well.”
My eyes opened, but I couldn’t reconcile the vision of my surroundings with the endless space inside my mind. The earth leaned to the right and I stumbled. I was caught by firm hands.
“Steady,” Arcus said, setting me back on my feet. “You shouldn’t come out of that state so quickly. Sit for a moment, go back into that place, and take your time floating up again. You could do yourself harm if you try to snap into awareness too fast.”
I did as he said, letting my mind adjust slowly to the outside world. In a few minutes, I took one last deep breath and opened my eyes. Arcus sat facing me, an arm’s length away.
“Hmph,” he said in a thoughtful tone. “It’s remarkable that you can do that with so little training.”
My chest glowed a little. Maybe there was hope for me yet.
As we walked toward the abbey, Arcus put his hand under my elbow to steady me. I stiffened but didn’t shrug it away.
“Your mind is progressing well,” he said, “but it’s your body that concerns me. You’re still weak.” He stopped and pushed my sleeve up to my elbow. As our skin touched, we both sucked in a breath at the discomfort of it. “You’ll never hold a sword with those arms. Where are your muscles?”
“Yes, the prison was full of opportunities to build my strength.” I jerked my arm away and shoved the sleeve back down.
“Well, you have them now. Starting tomorrow, I want you working yourself as hard as you can. The tower steps are steep. Up and down twice a day. Brother Peele in the kitchen has heavy pots to wash and bags of flour to move. Help him. Sister Clove in the stables can give you plenty of work, too.”
It was all so sensible I had no cause to argue. But still, it annoyed me to be ordered around.
“And what will you do while I work myself ragged?”
“I’ll be training, as I do every day.”
“And what are you training for, exactly?”
He hesitated, then let out a breath. “To help you. It’s my job to lead you through an entrance into the castle and, if we’re both very lucky, to get you safely out again.”