Frost Sage's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Frost Sage pushed on into the storm, but the snow had grown too deep. It reached her knees now. Each step took all her strength. Her old legs shook. The little dragon rode her shoulder and pressed close for warmth. She looked at the darkening sky and knew the truth. The shelter lay far off. The beams would break before she reached the door. She stopped beside a berry bush heavy with frost. She gripped a branch to hold herself up. Her breath came ragged. "Not fast enough," she said. "I know the danger and I still can't reach them." "Then send someone who can." The voice came from behind the bush. A small girl stepped out. She wore armor far too big for her, patched with plates of pale bone. A tooth hung on a cord at her neck. A sling swung loose in one hand. She looked Frost Sage up and down like a hunter sizing up game. "You're the ice-witch folk talk about," the girl said. "Vella Drinn. I hunt giants. What's chasing you?" Frost Sage measured her. Young. Quick. Legs that did not fail. "A roof full of sleeping people," she said. "It falls tonight. I saw it in the ice. But I can't run." Vella narrowed her eyes. "Saw it. In ice." She did not laugh, but she did not believe. "Prove it." Frost Sage had no time to prove anything. So she gambled. She lifted the dragon from her shoulder and set it on the snow. The small creature breathed a thin cold mist across a patch of ice at their feet. The surface went smooth and clear. In it a house showed dim: brown timber, lit windows, a roof bent under snow. Vella crouched. She stared at the shape. Her hand tightened on the sling. "That's Hearthhome," she said. "I ate there two nights back." "Then you know the road," Frost Sage said. "Run it. Wake them. Get them out before the beams give." Vella stood. For a breath she weighed it. Then she turned and ran, armor rattling, faster than Frost Sage had moved all day. The girl vanished into the white. Frost Sage lowered herself against the bush. She could not follow. She could only wait and hope the girl was fast, and that a stranger with a sling would trust a vision she barely believed. A small shape padded from the snow toward her. It was a kitten made of clear ice, its fur glinting, its eyes bright. It watched her with plain curiosity. Frost Sage almost laughed. She had failed to reach the shelter herself. But she had done something new tonight. She had put her sight into another's hands and sent it ahead of her. That was the seed of the thing she wanted to build. Not one seer racing the storm alone, but many, spread wide, running where old legs could not. If the girl reached the door in time, Frost Sage would have her first proof, and perhaps her first pupil.