Page 56 of A Door in the Dark
They sat there for a long time with the starless night bearing down from above. Ren gave the slightest tug. She felt him obey the pull, nestling in behind her. He shifted his weight and held her close. She liked the way his body bent to match hers. She felt his knee resting in the tangle of her own legs. His chest pressed against the blade of her shoulder. She turned so that they were face-to-face in the dark.
“I’m sorry… I…”
She shut him up with a kiss. Quieted him with the slightest dig of her nails. Buried him there, slowly but surely, beneath the weight of that darkness. The two of them kissed until there was no room for what had happened earlier that day. No need for words at all.
32
The next morning Ren filled the canteen with fresh snow and set it by the fire to melt.
Cora passed out the last of their food—the goat meat they’d salvaged in the pass below—cut in even, precise portions. Ren thought Theo would be embarrassed by their kissing in the light of day. Instead he quietly whispered good morning to her. The softness in his voice was surprising, unexpected. Ren hadn’t been thinking last night. She’d simply wanted to feel something. Now, however, she calculated. Now she planned. Theo wasn’t embarrassed by the night’s events because he wanted them to happen again. The rest of the world felt broken, but at least her path forward was clear. They just had to survive.
He ordered Vega to scout ahead. As she traced the bird’s flight, Ren was struck by a new thought. “Why didn’t you order Vega to help us?” she asked. “When Clyde attacked?”
She saw the way his throat bobbed. The way his fingers tapped nervously at his side. She knew right away that she’d cut down deep enough to hit some secret vein. He finally answered.
“She’s not just a livestone statue.”
Ren’s eyes narrowed. “She’s a vessel.”
He smiled. “Do you always figure everything out? I’m glad we weren’t in class together.”
It was obvious now. The strong link between them was more than just assigned servitude. There was genuine affection because the bird was more than a tool. She was a home for his magic.
“You had to bond to her?”
Another nod. “She’s technically alive. It was the only way to make it work.”
The bird let out a distant caw. Ren thought it sounded like a protest to the word “technically.” She eyed him a moment before pointing to the chain at his hip.
“So that one is fake? Or do you actually have three vessels?”
Another smile. “Fake.”
Some wizards famously sported visible chains or bracelets. The intention was to draw the eyes of their enemies to something that was, in fact, valueless. It was the kind of thing a rich kid would do, although she supposed people were far more likely to steal from him than from her.
“And just so you know, we did have class together,” Ren said. “Second semester of sophomore year. Intro to Physical Magic.”
He frowned. “I’d remember that. I’d remember you.”
“Don’t worry,” she replied. “I wasn’t as charming back then.”
I sat in the back corner and avoided you at all costs, she thought. Besides, boys like you don’t notice girls like me. The three of them started off across rock and tundra. Their morning path was blessedly flat, but all of them felt the looming absence. Six people had gone into the waxways. Half of them were dead now. Timmons’s death was having the most direct impact. Ren hadn’t realized how her friend’s magic had steadied them thus far. She wasn’t sure if the effect had been intentional or passive, but as they started out, she felt aches that she hadn’t until now. Sore calves and a throbbing lower back. How much magic had Timmons given each of them simply by walking alongside them?
The biggest challenge in the terrain came with navigating the larger snowdrifts. They couldn’t simply go around them when they encountered tighter rock formations. Instead they were forced to trek straight through. Even the best spells couldn’t keep all the snow out of their boots. Worse, their pace in those sections slowed to a crawl. Ren wasn’t alone in glancing over her shoulder every now and again, searching for signs of pursuit. The idea of a more powerful version of the monster hunting them wasn’t a welcome one.
“It was a long drop,” Theo noted at one point. “Maybe he didn’t survive it either.”
Cora shook her head. “A revenant is more spirit than body. It won’t feel the pain of a snapped limb or a busted organ. It doesn’t rely on blood flow. It’s sustained by the magic.”
“Very uplifting,” Theo replied. “Anything else?”
Cora opened her mouth, ready to explain some other dreadful detail, but caught the look Ren was giving her and fell quiet. As they trudged on in silence, Ren thought of her best friend’s final moments. Before her stomach could turn again, she fixed her eyes on the distant peaks and kept walking. The sun started to set and the pass leading between the two mountains was still well in the distance. Ren felt they’d made great progress, even if it seemed like they still had a long way to go. The last stretch had been uphill, which offered a vantage point on the valley they’d traversed.
If Clyde approached tonight, they’d have eyes on him at least.
Their fire was a scant thing. No matter how many book pages they added, it kept threatening to sputter out. Theo finally suggested combining satchels. He volunteered his own bag to the flames, which warmed them for a few hours as night stole over the hills. Much like their physical supplies, Ren knew, their actual magic was starting to run low. Timmons had enabled them to use minor spells, which she’d then enhanced to be more effective. The current conditions forced them to use high-level magic, which wasted more and more ockleys. It was possible that Ren and Cora would run out of magic by the time they reached the other side of the mountain.
A great sprawl of stars winked down on them. Ren took the first watch. Cora fell asleep immediately, while Theo shifted restlessly beneath his cardigan. The emptiness returned. She could feel it yawning in her chest. All the pain and the loss and the nothing. She considered waking Theo up again, just to feel something, but decided against it. There was movement down in the valley. Some kind of mountain cat slinking in the opposite direction. Ren watched for a while, but the lonely passage leading to where they’d set up their camp remained blessedly empty.
