Mara awoke with a start to quivering limbs and visions of Sjaligr fading from her mind. Any memory of the place of her birth seemed a cursed omen, not that she was worthy of the gods speaking to her. She took a quiet, deep breath to center herself, trying not to wake Aallotar. The wilding had been up all day, training and splitting enough firewood to last the rest of the winter. She didn't need to be roused at some ungodly hour of the morning.

Fortunately, Aallotar currently slept with a depth worthy of the dead. Her breathing was deep and even, face not quite completely buried in her threadbare pillow. She was sprawled out instead of her favorite position, being curled around Mara, which meant the sorcerer could at least attempt to sneak out of bed.

Seeing Aallotar so peaceful, untroubled by nightmares, always warmed Mara's heart. It was a rare night for either of them if they slept without hints of their pasts tormenting them. Mara stayed a minute just to watch her friend's calm comfort. Apparently exhausting herself beyond normal had done the trick for Aallotar.

Mara wished she was so fortunate. She was still thoroughly tired, but wide awake.

She slipped out of bed and grabbed her bundle of clean winter clothes, scurrying back to the baths to dress so the rustle of fabric wouldn't rouse Aallotar. Quickly dressed in warm wool and tough leather, Mara grabbed a thick cloak and made her way out of her master's hidden sanctuary. There was no sign of Sammael anywhere around, but that meant nothing. For his size and metallic weight, the demon could be exceptionally stealthy. She still remembered the night he had stolen them from Sjaligr's dungeons, particularly his unnervingly human-like disguise. Then again, Sammael sometimes was gone for days at a time.

The chill outside was brutal, but Mara had lived in the Red Mountains her entire life and braced for it. Her breath clouded in front of her face and almost instantly she felt her hair freeze along with the inside of her nose. For all the punishment that was the cold, however, it felt cleansing. She made her way to the only sign of human activity in the area near the cave besides the tracks in the snow: a single, large brazier stacked with wood.

She brushed away all the snow and added the pint of oil that hung in a flask from a small hook set into the stone dais. The wood was dry despite the snow just because of the sheer cold, as long as you didn't leave the snow on to melt. In a few minutes, she had a fire going to warm her hands before they could go numb. She had enough wrappings under her fur-lined boots to keep her toes warm for a while, but the void-touched metal replacing the bones of her right arm ached in the bitter chill if she was out in it for too long. Mara still knew almost nothing of the sorcery Sammael had used on her, but channeling was less painful now.

His explanation certainly left something to be desired. The less mortal you are, the less it will hurt. I have given you a piece of myself to ease your progress. Perhaps you will require more as you grow in power.

The wind shifted directions, carrying a familiar copper tang. It smelled like a dead or dying animal, and not a small one, yet she'd heard no hunting cries. The snow cats didn't come this far down the mountains and the bears were all asleep this early in the year. In her experience, when wolves were in the area, they made themselves known and kept a distance from Sammael's territory. The demon's presence unnerved animals.

If it was a threat, it was probably wiser not to deal with it alone, but she didn't have the heart to wake Aallotar. Besides, she had learned much in the way of sorcery, more than enough to handle a beast.

She followed the breeze through the darkness, allowing her eyes to readjust as she moved away from the firelight. Fortunately, a brilliant full moon burned above, casting light onto the snow. Without that illumination, she would not have dared to venture any distance from the mouth of the cave. She followed the footpath mostly lost under drifts of snow, carefully crossing the small river that was frozen over at its thickest parts of the ice.

Beside the road was the scene of a minor battle. Several men in furs lay dead, their blood cold against the snow. Bandits, probably, though their foe was not Sammael. Instead, a great beast lay on its side in the snow, huffing. It looked like no animal native to the Red Mountains, but she recognized it from their visit with the strange southerners: a warg, spotted like a hunting cat but built more like a wolf. It seemed injured, though someone had done their best to staunch the bleeding.

Mara looked around carefully for its rider, well aware he could be a danger if he was around. She spotted him quickly, slumped against his beast's side. His head turned towards her. "Please, help us." There was barely a trace of a shiver in his voice. If she didn't get him warm soon, he would die.

Mara approached quickly. Whether or not it was the wisest thing to do, she didn't have the heart to just let him die in the cold. "Can you walk?" she asked, kneeling down in front of him. She saw the answer to her own question in the arrow protruding from his thigh. Another had pierced him through the knee on the other side.

He grimaced as he tried to get up, hissing in pain. His beast seemed to wake when he stirred and turned its head towards Mara with a growl so deep it rattled her bones.

"Let me help you," the sorcerer said gently, trying not to show her fear. If that warg went for her, reflexes and power would only get her so far. "Can you tell your companion that I am not your enemy?"

"Unnr, na'ach," the rider barked with what little strength he had left.

The warg perked its rounded ears and rose to stand, pushing its rider up to do the same just by how he was sitting. Mara caught him before he could fall, forming a rough crutch for him. She was stronger than she looked, but he was a tower. Fortunately, between her and his beast, the rider could move.

"What is your name?" Mara panted as she turned him towards the cave.

"I am Theudhar, and this is my soul bond, Unnr." There was a cry of pain in the distance and he froze. "Saxa is alive!" Sudden energy seemed to course through him and he tried to step towards the cry. "I thought...I thought they had killed her. Please, you have to help her."

Mara pushed him gently against his beast. "Keep following my old tracks. There's a narrow place across the stream where the ice is thick and beyond is a cave. Just keep going that way. I'll find your friend."

Theudhar nodded, grabbing the strap that held his saddle onto Unnr's back. The warg couldn't bear his full weight, but together they could limp along. She would be able to catch them probably before they reached the river, at least if she was quick and this fight wasn't much of a fight.

Mara padded through the darkness, wishing she had Aallotar with her more than ever. Sifting through the snow, she found splashes of blood and a place where someone had been dragged away through the snow. Her stomach churned as she followed a winding path amongst the dark pines.

"Tell me how to open it, witch," a male voice growled a short distance away, crouching over a female figure slumped against a tree. The man dressed in furs held a scroll case in one hand, though this one was far more extravagant than any Mara had ever seen before: intricately worked metal covered in finely graven rings. "I'm weary of asking." His accent was local, which Mara suspected meant that he was a brigand of some kind. The woman was lucky it was as cold as it was.

The woman tilted her chin up in defiance, so he twisted her broken right hand again, prompting a cry of pain.

"Leave her alone," Mara said, stepping out into the open.

The man turned towards her and drew his axe. It was the last mistake he ever made.

Mara closed her eyes, embracing the bitterness of the supernatural cold that came with touching Void. She extended a hand towards him without need for incantation or gesture, forcing her soul back into that place darker than the sky between the stars.

There was a brilliant flash and burning heat as a bolt of power struck from her fingertips. He was dead and sizzling when he hit the snow with a clap of thunder. Mara felt no drain or weakness, but she knew that if she didn't stop, Void would consume her. She locked it back in her soul and approached the woman. "Saxa? Theudhar sent me to find you."

"He is still alive?" the woman said, struggling up to her feet. She seemed just as cold and miserable as her comrade, but more able to move.

Mara nodded as she picked up the scroll case quickly. Whatever it contained, it seemed important and leaving it could be foolish. "He was last I saw him, though in this cold, you are both in great danger. I'll need your help getting him and Unnr back to the cave."

The woman nodded. She was lanky and moved with strange grace, but her face was unreadable beneath the layers of fabric that covered it, sensible dressing for the weather. They quickly caught up to the struggling warg rider and his beast.

Together, the four crossed the river at Mara's fording place, narrowly avoiding a fall when the warg slipped. Soon, the brazier burned ahead of them. Eyes reflected in the light as it fell into the depths of the cave, right at Aallotar's height.

"Mara!" The wildling came bolting out of the cave at the sight of her friend with these strangers, still holding a stack of warm blankets in her arms meant for the sorcerer.

"It's okay, Aallotar," Mara promised even as the warg growled at the sudden appearance. The beast seemed confused, which was fairly normal for anything trying to reconcile Aallotar's human shape with the hints of her curse that remained in her scent. "Please, I need help with them."

Without hesitation, the wildling moved to aid. She was strong enough to lift Theudhar across her shoulders in a fire-man's carry, bringing him quickly towards the fire burning in the entry hall, inside Sammael's first sorcerous door. It would be warmer than the library and wouldn't immediately wake Caliban. The warmth hit them in a wave, no doubt stinging the cold flesh of their two survivors. The beast collapsed beside the fire, fur steaming in the warmth.

"You need to strip down," Mara advised the woman as she started working on Theudhar's armor. She went carefully because of his injuries, which were more than she had realized. Aallotar checked over his body for frostbite, wrapping him in the first of the warm blankets.

"I will get bandages and the salves," Aallotar said quickly, vanishing back through the second set of doors.

If they kept their guests here and not in the library, Sammael was less likely to kill them. At least, so Mara hoped.

Mara turned to face the woman to check her for injuries and completely lost what she was going to say when she realized immediately that this was not a human woman. She was shaped like one, but with large dark eyes and sheet-white skin that gleamed like countless fine scales. Across her ribs were the closed slits of sealed gills and webbing spanned the long joints of her black-clawed fingers. Her teeth, when she smiled nervously, seemed a mix of sharp, needle-like fangs and the normal human variety.

There were also a lot of bruises to accompany a shattered wrist. Mara winced sympathetically when she saw how swollen the joint was. "We're going to have to set that carefully," she said, recovering her train of thought. After all, Theudhar wasn't strictly human either: the short black horns mixed in his dark hair were proof enough of that.

"Unnr needs healing too," Saxa said fervently. She didn't even seem to realize her wrist was broken other than how she cradled it with her other hand.

Mara flashed the semi-aquatic woman a smile and held out a warm blanket. "We'll do our best. Aallotar and I won't hurt you. Are there any places on your body you can't feel?"

Saxa shook her head, but Theudhar nodded. "My smallest fingers on my shield arm," he said, holding out his hand. His red skin looked purple there from the cold. "They will need to come off. The rest may be saved."

Unfortunately, Mara had seen enough frostbite over the course of her life to agree with his assessment. "I'm sorry," she said gently, feeling his other fingers. "The others should be alright, though they'll burn like fire when they warm."

"I'll do it," Saxa said quietly, fishing around in her discarded gear. "I still have my kit."

Mara shook her head. "Rest," she said firmly. "Aallotar is an excellent healer. She knows how to handle this kind of thing."

Theudhar grimaced. "Can she keep it clean? I have seen much ill worked by your people's healers."

"Yes. She learned from the best." For all his flaws, Sammael knew much of healing and had been quite rigorous in his instruction of Aallotar, probably because he wanted his precious apprentice to be hale and healthy as much as possible. Clean wounds healed without issue, something Aallotar had stressed during her care of Mara even before knowing much about infections.

Aallotar returned with bandages and a large bowl of hot, soapy water. She already had the wrap of sterilized tools tucked through her belt. The implements Sammael used to torture and dissect worked perfectly well for healing as well, provided they were clean. Her next trip returned with the familiar medicines that Mara relied on so often, rinses and ointments designed to speed healing and fight infection. Sammael's notes on the local flora had expanded Aallotar's knowledge of the healing arts, on the rare days when Mara had time to read them for her.

Theudhar and Saxa both relaxed when Aallotar started by washing her hands up to her elbows with the soap and hot water. Mara poured clean, hot water out of a pitcher to rinse the soap off onto the floor, leaving the treated water in the bowl for cleaning the wounds themselves.

The first thing the wildling had to treat was Theudhar's hand, something Aallotar did with great care while keeping the amputation of those fingers swift. Both he and Saxa were in significant pain, but the best Mara could do for that while Sammael was away was willow-bark tea and the numbing agent he had given her for her burns. It wouldn't help broken bones, but it helped with the pain from the cold.

Mara took the time while Aallotar was working on Theudhar and Saxa to take a look at Unnr's wounds. She'd tended to hounds and horses before many times. The female warg's hide was thick, but the blade of a hewing spear could get through even it. The wound to Unnr's hindquarters was ugly, so Mara cleaned it and bandaged with the same care she would have given to its owner, making soothing sounds every time the beast growled. It at least wasn't a deep piercing wound, only a laceration, so there was at least less risk of abscess.

"It seems the gods favored us well, love," Theudhar said once Aallotar finished bandaging his wounds and cleaned up again before moving to tend to Saxa's wrist.

Saxa flashed him a smile. "A good thing, too. Fine healer I am with this wrist."

Mara ducked back to find them clean clothes, coming nose to nose with Caliban.

"Who in every hell did you bring here?" Caliban hissed, catching her by the wrist.

"Caliban, they would have died," Mara said evenly. "Does it matter?"

"They cannot be allowed to remain alive," he hissed. "The Master will be furious!"

Mara frowned. This sudden bitter anger was not an emotion she usually saw on Caliban's face. "I'm not going to kill them."

"Then I will, or we'll all be damned!" He went to push past her, grabbing her roughly by the shoulder. He already had his sword drawn in his other hand.

Mara grabbed him by the arm with her right hand. "Caliban," she said in a low voice, infusing it with every drop of Sammael's venom she could imitate. "Whatever you do to them, I will do to you."

He turned and sneered. "You have power, Spell-Breaker, but you don't have the spine for bloody necessity."

Mara stared into his eyes even as she gathered her will. The icy cold flooded into her body, a subtle shift in the air around her announcing the arrival of her power. "I have Void enough to devour you." When she touched the power Sammael had helped her unlock, those softer feelings like love and mercy vanished.

It never failed to frighten her, but she would use it if she had to.

"I fear the Master more than I fear you," Caliban spat.

The sudden smell of acrid alchemy and ash announced the arrival of Mara's mentor even though nothing stirred visibly in the darkness of the library. Caliban froze like a rabbit sensing a wolf nearby, his anger replaced by a profound terror.

"I SEE WE HAVE GUESTS." Sammael's words were cold and inhuman, utterly devoid of emotional inflection. Then again, demons were not known for their virulent anger, only the cold detachment of their fury. Sammael would never shout and curse, but he would peel a living being's skin off, strip by strip, while they were still conscious to feel it.

"They are travelers from the south. The man is of the same breed as the soldiers we saw in Barri," Mara said once she'd swallowed her own nerves. "I've never seen anything like the woman before." She held out the thin scroll case she'd picked up and tucked through the back of her belt. "There was a bandit trying to take this from them."

Sammael's twisted, bestial form emerged from the shadows, mostly shrouded in rags. His unfeeling, unblinking obsidian eyes pierced her soul as she handed it over. He retracted his long, needle claws and turned the case over in his dextrous hands with a delicate touch. "A WORK OF SORCERY. ENTERING IN THE INCORRECT COMBINATION OF SIGILS DESTROYS THE CONTENTS. I THINK IT UNLIKELY THAT THEY WERE WAYLAID BY BANDITS, IF THEIR ASSAILANTS WERE WISE ENOUGH TO KNOW THEY COULD NOT MERELY OPEN IT AND HAVE ITS PRIZE."

"They seemed a bit wild to be spell-knights," Mara said, recalling the desperate edge to the man torturing Saxa. "Underfed, for certain."

"THE LAST DEFENDERS OF ESKALDR, SCATTERED TO THE WIND BY VOID." As he spoke, the demon's attention seemed fixed on the scroll-case. The many rings of sigils on the scroll-case appeared to turn under their own power. As the last settled in place, there was a soft buzz from the case and then Sammael opened it. He produced a roll of paper and held it up. "AN UNFINISHED MAP. THEY WERE SEEKING TO STUDY AND CHART THE RIVER SYSTEMS THROUGH THE NORTH. IT SEEMS THE IMPERIUM INTENDS TO LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED, AS IS THEIR WAY."

"So we kill them," Caliban muttered.

"YOU SAY THAT AS IF THEY WOULD NOT SEND MORE, IN GREATER NUMBER AND POWER. THEY MAY YET PROVE USEFUL, IF THEIR LOYALTY CAN BE CULTIVATED."

Caliban looked at Mara, wild-eyed. "Servants of the demon princes have no loyalty save to those who hold their leashes!"

"THE HEARTS OF MEN ARE WEAKER THAN YOU THINK, CALIBAN." Sammael turned his head to Mara. "KEEP THEM WHERE THEY ARE FOR A TIME. I WILL REARRANGE THE LIBRARY SO THAT THE SORCEROUS TOMES AND RELICS ARE IN MY STUDY AND THE PRIVATE QUARTERS. THEY ARE YOUR RESPONSIBILITY, MY APPRENTICE. IF THEY PROVE A DANGER, YOU WILL BE THE ONE TO STRIKE THEM DOWN."

"Thank you," Mara said with a sigh of relief.

Sammael carefully returned the papers to the scroll case and sealed it again. Then he touched Mara's chin with a long, lethal claw. "THIS IS NOT CHARITY. THEY WILL PROVE USEFUL OR THEY WILL PERISH. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Mara met the demon's infernal gaze. "I do."