Page 15 of All the Wandering Light

Tem’s brow furrowed. It was a moment before he was able to focus on me. “Actually, I was looking for River.”

It was as if the cold weight shifted an inch closer to my heart. “River?”

“I know he’s gone,” Tem said. “I just can’t figure out why that bell’s still sounding.” He tapped the bell absently, which was small and seemingly unremarkable, an outlier next to its shiny, gaudier neighbors. It made no sound. It only sounded in the vicinity of someone, or something, who meant harm to those who bore it. I pictured the fiangul, dark shapes gliding toward us through the blizzard. It had sounded then, a harsh peal.

“Remember how it kept whispering, during the journey to Raksha?” Tem said. “I thought it was because of him—I noticed that it went quiet when the two of you left for the summit. But ever since you returned, it’s been doing it again. At first I thought he could be following you. But that doesn’t make sense—why would he come back?”

As if on cue, the black bell gave the tiniest shiver of sound, then fell silent.

My heart pounded in my ears. “Ever since I returned?”

Tem smiled. “I didn’t mean it like that—obviously, it isn’t because of you.”

“Obviously,” I echoed faintly. “What about the other bell—the one that sounds when a witch is near?” Shadow-kin, the engraving on the bell said. “We know that one responded to River.”

“It’s been quiet.” Tem sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe when the binding spell broke, something happened to the kinnika. To all the talismans. Their magic feels different.”

“You mean weaker?”

“No—not exactly.” Tem rubbed his eyes. “I can’t explain it. But it’s harder sometimes to work the spells. It’s as if the talismans don’t want to cooperate anymore.”

I set my butter tea aside—the smell, so enticing only moments ago, now made me queasy.

Could the black bell be sounding because of me? I thought back to the stories of those who had used the magic of fire demons—power-hungry shamans who lost all sense of anything beyond their own ambition, and were slowly driven insane. Would that happen to me too? I shifted closer to Tem, drawing comfort from the familiar timbre of his voice. As I did, the black bell gave another quiet shiver.

Six

I STARTED AWAKE before dawn the next morning. I rolled over in my blankets, trying to pinpoint what had woken me.

Voices. Lusha’s and Mara’s. I glanced over at Tem, but he was still snoring on the other side of the tent, his sleep-tousled hair the only visible part of him.

I rose, or tried to—before I got halfway, I encountered a lump of fur and claws, weighting me to the bed. Ragtooth, it seemed, had decided to fall asleep on my hair.

The fox growled, clearly under the impression that I was going to remain where I was. Rather than try to coax him, I simply sat up, sending him rolling onto the ground.

I riffled around in the darkness, searching for my socks. I knew I had a clean pair in my pack—where had they gone?

Ragtooth hopped back onto the bed, the socks clutched in his jaws. He dropped them on my lap. They were wet with drool, and the left had a hole in the toe now.

“Thanks,” I muttered. Ragtooth gave an insouciant stretch, then curled himself into a ball atop the warm pillow. I gathered up the blankets and flung them over him. A flurry of growls and snarls erupted as the fox tried to writhe his way out, only succeeding in entangling himself further. Smiling darkly at my victory, I tossed my chuba over my shoulders and stepped out into the chill air.

Lusha paced by the blazing fire, scattering our camp with shadows. She and Mara had clearly been awake for some time.

“Are we packing up?” I said. We had planned to set out early, but not this early—we needed daylight to see our way around the glacier’s crevasses.

“Dargye didn’t return last night.” Mara’s face, shadowed by his graying beard, was grave. He looked twice his thirty-one years. “We did a thorough tally of the food, and there’s too much of it.”

“Too much?” I swallowed. “That means—”

“He’s been gone longer than we thought,” Lusha finished. “Days.”

I wrapped my arms around my chest, feeling chilled despite the warmth of the fire. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“We’ll start the search as soon as it’s light,” Mara said.

I scanned the sky. The sun, still behind the horizon, painted the massing clouds a lurid orange.

“I know.” Lusha nodded at my unspoken concern. “Hopefully we can find some evidence of his trail before the storm reaches us.”