I should dig a grave. That’s what people do when someone… when there’s a… it’s the proper thing.

  Distant gleams of amber and pink had chased away the fog. I had spent the night huddled and shaking. Whatever else had been prowling through the clinging mist had passed me by, and the drumbeats had long-since faded into silence.

  Somehow, the silence made it worse.

  Hiding beside him on the frosty ground, shivering with mind-numbing fear, my focus had been on the snarls and howls from within the fog. On staying quiet and still and alive. But when the sounds abated and the fear finally slithered away… I was left curled beside a dead man.

  I hadn’t known him. I never would. He’d never talk or laugh or ask a question, he’d never feel sunlight or raindrops or anything.

  It’s what people do. They die. And then you dig a grave.

  I had seen death before. Not often, but during my life the occasional sickness or injury beyond Clem’s purview had marred Fellbrook with sorrow.

  People would hold a funeral, giving gifts to the bereaved, and the family would dig a grave on the southern edge of town while silver trees bore silent witness.

  People died. I knew that. But this… this was different. The horror etched on his wrinkled face, the drumbeats and screams and wicked laughter... This poor man hadn’t just died, he’d been killed, horribly, and the last moments of his life must have been so-

  I’ll dig a grave.

  I was on my knees, hands scraping into half-frozen dirt. I managed to rip up a few clumps of wet grass and cast them aside, careful to avoid him. His clothes were soiled and stained, almost rancid, as though he’d been wearing them for months. It seemed disrespectful to add to the mess.

  Good thing my hands are better or this would be really terrible.

  The thought was so very strange that I started to laugh. I fiercely clapped a hand over my mouth. You weren’t supposed to laugh when someone died. Something warm and wet dropped onto my hand.

  “Brin? Brin!”

  I blinked against the pale light of dawn. I know that voice. Maybe she can help me dig.

  The Fae-touched woman was darting along, slipping in and out of silent pines. Something gleamed in her hand.

  “Brin!” She skidded to a halt several feet away and covered her mouth. “Saints, what happened?!”

  “They… killed him.” My voice was a croak. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t save him. We have to bury him.”

  “Bury… Brin, you look like death! We need to get you warmed up!” The gleaming object in her hand- an unsheathed dagger, I could see now- disappeared into folds of damp, baggy clothing. Cold fingers grasped my arm and tugged.

  I pulled away. “I’ll be alright,” I insisted, grabbing another handful of dirt. “We need to dig a hole.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then said slowly, “Right, okay… uh, hey, let’s get you warmed up, and we’ll… um, find a shovel, and then dig the hole?”

  I lifted my gaze, squinting against the faint light.

  Her angular features twisted with worry. There were dark, plum-hued circles beneath her eyes. “But first you gotta come with me, okay?”

  Go with her? And then come back with a shovel?

  I supposed that made sense; a shovel would work much better than my hands, which were bitten by cold and aching. I stood on quivering legs. My steps forward were stiff and slow. Teela looped one arm around my shoulders.

  “Yeah, there we go. Let’s go sit in the nice warm cave, okay?”

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  “Yeah… okay…” We walked. I began to pant. Breathing too fast. My hands shook. I burst into tears.

  Teela patted my back and said things that didn’t sound correct, but were very kind nonetheless. “It will be okay, there there, you’re safe now…”

  I shook my head because no, I wasn’t safe; there was a wicked Fae in my dreams and horrible monsters lurking in the wilderness and they’d killed someone and I hadn’t been able to help him and they’d been about to kill me too, nothing and nowhere was safe!

  But that was all too much to say, so I just cried. Each gasp of frosty air stung my throat. Eventually my sobs abated. I wiped my eyes and nose and peered tearfully up at Teela. Somehow I’d wound up on my knees.

  “You’ve got the trembles.” She rubbed my back.

  I blinked.

  “That’s what the folks in Respite call it. The trembles.” She tugged me to my feet and we continued up an incline formed of slick grass and damp rocks. I hiccuped and sniffled as we plodded along.

  Teela’s arm curled back around my shoulders. “People get hurt or scared and they think they’re okay, but then the clerics all tell ‘em to lie down and get warm and stuff. Cause they know the trembles are coming,” she finished matter-of-factly.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “I think it’ll pass in a bit. We should get you warmed up, though. Your hands are like ice!”

  “Okay.”

  Vaguely I thought that I could make fire come out of my hands, and that doing so would probably be very warm, though probably not very practical. I mulled over whether that would be a good idea. Eventually the pungent smell of rotting meat hit my nostrils.

  “Salt, that stuff’s nasty!” Teela hissed, and practically yanked me into the cave behind her.

  My pack lay unopened on the ground beside Teela’s own small pile of belongings. Renner’s bedroll was rumpled and absent its owner.

  “He took two steps after you and then hid in here like a coward,” Teela muttered, aiming a vehement glare at the mussed blankets. After a moment’s pause she added, quite sheepishly, “I took… maybe five?”

  I actually laughed. It was an exhausted, sad, spent laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

  “I’m glad you didn’t follow me,” I said earnestly. My voice was still hoarse. “I just thought… those poor people out there, I thought maybe I could…”

  She stooped, grabbed a blanket, and bundled it around my shoulders. The sudden weight and heat made me realize just how cold I’d been. I sat with a gasp and burrowed deeper into the warmth.

  “Salt, you didn’t even put your boots on!”

  “Didn’t think about it,” I murmured, massaging at my feet. They were in an unpleasant state somewhere between uncomfortably numb and painfully cold, and even touching them- with hands that were indeed like ice- made me wince.

  Teela spent the next few minutes prying pine boughs from the makeshift wall. She amassed a small pile in front of me. “Can you, uh…”

  “Veth,” I whispered, fingers tracing, and tried to focus on… well, on not sending out a haphazard spray of flames but rather a small, safe burst. That was how my previous, increasingly successful experiments with magic had gone; focusing on something small. My first rainshower had left me and Marion’s tomato plants drenched. It wasn’t until six tries later that I’d managed to water a plant without accidentally murdering it.

  My result now was a more immediate success. Sparks flared and the little pile began to smolder. The sudden rush of heat made me gasp. I let my hand fall as spots danced across my vision. Probably shouldn’t count that as a victory just yet; I think if I tried to make more than a few sparks I’d pass out.

  Teela watched the lazy trails of smoke, eyes shining. “I’ve never seen magic before last night, you know. Watching you do that is… just, wow.”

  I was too tired and cold to blush. “You said you lived in Respite,” I croaked. She handed me a leather waterskin. I drank, then continued more clearly, “Aren’t there lots of runekeepers there?”

  She shrugged. “I think there were one or two in the temple. I never saw them. I was mostly an errand rat.”

  I chewed that information over. Strange. Clem always said Respite was full of runekeepers. Ones who could heal terrible wounds and grow plants in a moment and make food out of thin air. Although… I suppose he hasn’t left Fellbrook in over twenty years. Perhaps something changed?

  The low crunch of boots on rocks interrupted my musings. I looked up. Renner was standing in the mouth of the cave. A wired snare dangled from one gloved hand, a limp rabbit from the other.

  “You’re alive?”

  “No thanks to you!” Teela cried, surging to her feet. Her hands balled into fists. “She’s frozen half to death out there and you, what, run off to get your salted breakfast?!”

  He offered no response. Standing there, between us and the world outside, I was starkly reminded of his position last night. And, more vividly, of the weapon he’d drawn.

  I looked him in the eye. “You… you pulled a knife out last night.” I was too tired for tact. Dimly, some part of me questioned whether explicitly questioning the actions of a man who’d looked like he was ready to stab me last night was wise, but the words tumbled out before I could yield to prudence.

  He scowled. “Yeah.”

  “Why? I was just-”

  “Going to get us all killed?” Renner stepped into the cave. The rabbit fell unceremoniously onto a rock and he produced a short, thick-bladed knife.

  I’d seen Durst skin enough animals to know what was about to happen. I turned away.

  “The way I see it, ladyship, you had two reasons to run out there.” His voice was joined by quiet, wet tearing sounds. “Either you are bound to a Fae, and you decided to go see if you could make some new friends. Or… you’re a divinely blessed moron who was running off to get killed.”

  “It’s the second one,” I mumbled, leaning back against the cold stone wall.

  There was a pause in the unpleasant sounds. The back of my neck prickled. Salt, I can practically feel his eyes on me.

  After a long moment he added darkly, “Well. All it’d take is for one of them to charm you, or torture you, and you’d spill your guts about our little hiding spot. So yeah, I thought about stopping you. Figured you’d be better off crippled than all of us dead.”

  I wouldn’t do that, I wanted to say, but the words died on my tongue. With bone-rattling clarity, the image of a sharp smile and silver-lit eyes came to mind. I could remember all-too-well the foggy, dazed sensation of staring into that handsome face, all my fears and thoughts of fighting just melting away. He’d stopped whatever he’d been trying to do, but… ashes, there had been a moment where I probably would have done anything he asked.

  I was being a fool. I could have gotten all of us killed, and I certainly didn’t save anyone.

  I failed.

  Fresh, exhausted tears slid down my cheeks. I turned fully away from my two companions and buried my face in the blanket.