The air outside the abbey immediately felt different—thin, sharp, and with a biting edge despite the clear sky overhead. Before them stretched a path down a slightly sloping hill. At the top of the hill, where they stood, summer was in bloom. At the bottom, the ground was coated in snow.
Sigrid took the lead, cheerfully marching down the hill with Emily almost having to jog to keep up with her large strides. As they descended, the air grew colder and the wind stronger. Emily fastened her cloak around herself, and was soon digging through her pack for a pair of gloves.
The bottom of Sigrid's leather bikini was high-cut, exposing most of her buttocks. "How are you not freezing?" Emily asked, still struggling to keep up with her.
"Cold just makes the blood pump faster," Sigrid declared cheerfully. "We Frostfangs thrive on it." She cast a glance over her shoulder at a thoroughly wrapped up Emily with only her face exposed. "You might want to give it a try. All that padding is no good for agility, Shelmily. You'll tire faster than a cold-hare in springtime!"
A thousand possible responses flashed through Emily's mind, but she offered none of them. She had certainly given 'it' a try, more than Sigrid had, in fact, and had had just about enough of it. But Sigrid didn't know that. Sigrid, unlike so many people she'd met in Thessolan, had no idea what Emily looked like naked. She intended to keep it that way. Let Sigrid be the one showing skin for this leg of the journey if she liked it so much. It would be a welcome change.
"I think I'll avoid frostbite for the moment," Emily said at last.
"Psshaw!" Sigrid waved a hand dismissively, even as her own breath plumed white. "Just keep moving and it's no problem."
So this was the Cinder Wastes. Emily had expected plains of blackened earth and smoking fissures, not a tundra. Twisted, skeletal trees, devoid of leaves and coated in frost, dotted the landscape. The wind that whipped around them, stinging Emily's exposed cheeks with ice crystals. If they also stung Sigrid's exposed cheeks, she didn't show it.
Far in the distance, barely visible through the haze, a single, dark volcanic peak rose against the pale sky. The Crucible looked both foreboding and impossibly remote.
"I really wasn't expecting snow this close to the summer solstice," Emily breathed, pulling the collar of her cloak tighter.
Sigrid sniffed the air, still totally unfazed by the cold. "It smells like winter back home, only... thinner. Dead, somehow."
"Ominous."
The crunch of snow underfoot was the only constant sound as they trekked deeper into the Wastes. Emily pulled her cloak tighter, burying her chin in the thick fabric, her breath pluming white in the unnaturally frigid air. Ahead, Sigrid marched with relentless energy, her bare arms and legs seemingly impervious to the biting wind, the massive axe on her back glinting dully under the pale sun. The dark peak of the Crucible seemed no closer than when they'd started.
"Can we maybe slow down for a minute?" Emily puffed, her legs burning from having to keep pace with Sigrid's long strides on the constant uphill, while carrying a pack that seemed to become heavier with each step.
Sigrid glanced back, not breaking her stride. "We have to keep moving, Shellbear, it keeps the blood warm. Were you not in a hurry? Solstice waits for no one, right? Why not use some of that fancy magic to pick up the pace?"
"It's Emily," she corrected through gritted teeth, ignoring the jibe about her magic. "And yes, I'm in a hurry, but running ourselves ragged won't help if we're too exhausted to face whatever's at the volcano. Or if we stumble into trouble because we're not paying attention."
Sigrid snorted, kicking a drift of snow aside. "Trouble? Bah! Let it come. Grognak here"—she patted her axe—"is always hungry for trouble. Best way to deal with it is head-on, fast and decisive! None of this careful tiptoeing nonsense." She paused, turning fully to face Emily, her grin fading slightly. "That's how we do it out here in the wild. Not something the monks teach in magic school."
Emily stopped, planting her feet in the snow. "I've learned plenty about handling things 'in the wild,' thank you very much. And not from the magic school you're imagining either. I just prefer not to rush blindly into danger if I don't have to!
Sigrid held her gaze for a moment, her face unreadable. Then she shrugged, turning back to the path. "Try not to slow me down too much." She resumed her relentless pace.
Emily let out a frustrated sigh, then hurried to catch up. This was going to be a long journey.
They came to a place where the ground sloped downwards towards a frozen stream. The ice looked thick, but was spotted with strange dark patches that made a faint sizzling noise.
"Careful," Emily warned. "The Abbot said some ice here burns. Maybe we should go around?"
"Waste of time!" Sigrid scoffed. With a booming laugh, she took a running start and leaped onto the ice, landing solidly with one fist down. Then she straightened up, pushed off one foot like a skater and glided straight to the other side, jumping back onto the snow. "See? Perfectly fine! Quit your worrying, Em-i-ly!"
Emily hesitated, then cautiously stepped onto the ice near the edge, avoiding the dark patches. Prodding the ice ahead with her booted foot, she took another tentative step, bending deeply into her ankles to avoid slipping.
"Hurry up!" Sigrid called impatiently from the far bank, already starting up the next slope. "Sun's moving! Can't spend all day tiptoeing across a puddle!"
Frustrated, Emily picked up her pace, hurrying across the ice, almost slipping a few times. She was still careful to avoid the sizzling black patches.
Reaching the other side of the stream, Emily scrambled up the slope, her lungs burning not just from exertion but the biting air. She saw Sigrid examining her hand. A small patch on her leather glove was smoking, and she peeled it back to reveal an angry red burn on her palm.
"See?" Emily said, breathless but feeling more than a little smug. "I told you. That ice is dangerous."
Sigrid glared first at her hand, then back at the ice, then finally at Emily, her eyes narrowed. "Just a wee burn," she growled, flexing her fingers before stomping further up the hill. "Don't need your lectures." She stomped further up the hill, increasing her pace.
Emily sighed, rubbing her temples. This alliance was going to be challenging. Sigrid's boundless energy and confidence were admirable, but she was extremely reckless and bristled at the slightest criticism.
That first day set the pattern. They walked until the pale sun dipped low, casting long, distorted shadows from the obsidian shards that increasingly littered the landscape. Sigrid pushed relentlessly onward while Emily, burdened by the pack and less accustomed to the bitter cold despite her layers, struggled to keep pace.
Their first camp was little more than a hollow scooped out behind a large obsidian boulder, offering shelter from the wind. Emily used the Stoneshell to start a meager fire with a branch broken off a dead tree, while Sigrid vanished briefly into the twilight gloom, returning empty-handed. "Nothin' worth huntin' this close to the Abbey," she muttered, chewing grimly on a strip of dried meat from Emily's pack. "Skinny ice lizards and not much else. More energy to kill and prepare than they'd give you."
They ate in near silence, the only sounds the crackling fire and the mournful howl of the wind carrying across the desolate plains. Emily tried asking Sigrid more about the Frostfang Clan, receiving mostly clipped answers about harsh winters, proving strength through trials, and the sacred bond with one's chosen weapon.
Sigrid, in turn, asked nothing about Emily beyond a gruff, "So this Heartflame thing... what's it look like?" When Emily responded that she wasn't sure, Sigrid laughed. "Thought they taught you about those kinds of things at magic school."
Sleep in the cold was fitful and brief, with Emily and Sigrid wrapping themselves tightly in all the clothes and blankets from Emily's pack, and Emily waking periodically to juice the dwindling fire.
The second day dawned pale and colder still. The landscape grew more alien, with jagged fields of glassy obsidian, sharp enough to shred boot leather if one wasn't careful, pushed through the thickening snowdrifts. The wind felt sharper, forcing Emily to squint and pull her hood lower. The silence, too, felt unnatural—no birds, no animals, just the wind, alternately sighing or howling.
Sigrid forged ahead, her earlier recklessness tempered slightly. Later, they found tracks in the snow—small, sharp, two-legged prints that vanished abruptly near a field of steaming fissures they'd paused at for warmth.
"Frost sprites," Sigrid grunted, examining the tracks, her hand gripping the handle of her axe. "Or somethin' similar. Stay sharp, Firestone. They like to ambush their prey."
They gave the tracks a wide berth.
That night, they found slightly better shelter beneath a leaning rock overhang, shielded from the driving snow. Emily managed a larger fire, and they huddled close, sharing another meager meal of dried rations. The pack felt noticeably lighter.
"Tomorrow," Sigrid said, staring into the flames, "we push hard. The ridge ahead looks taller. Might get above some of this cursed wind."
By the morning of the third day, the constant uphill climb and biting wind had taken a toll. Emily felt weary to her bones, the initial strangeness of the Wastes settling into a draining monotony broken only by moments of sharp anxiety. Even Sigrid seemed less boisterous, her movements still powerful but lacking the earlier explosive energy. She had even donned a fur cape from Emily's pack over her skimpy leather armor, much to Emily's smug satisfaction.
Halfway up the steep ridge, Sigrid paused near a cluster of shards taller than herself, peering into the swirling snow ahead, her hand resting instinctively on the haft of Grognak. "We're not alone," she muttered, her voice low and serious.
Emily caught up, peering around the obsidian pillar, her breath catching in her throat. The snow ahead looked undisturbed, but she felt it too, a prickling sensation on her skin, the same feeling she got just before a static shock, amplified tenfold. The air seemed to crackle with invisible energy.
Suddenly, the snowdrifts erupted with jagged figures made of frost and ice, small and vaguely humanoid. They moved with unsettling speed on skittering legs, their faceted bodies catching the pale light. Dozens of them, maybe more, emerged from behind obsidian outcroppings, making high-pitched, chittering cries that grated against Emily's ears.
"Frost sprites!" Sigrid roared, pulling the axe from her back in a smooth, practiced motion.
Before Emily could even summon a proper fireball, the frost sprites attacked, flinging shards of ice from their own bodies. Where the shards struck rock or obsidian, they left patches of rapidly spreading, sizzling frost.
"Watch out!" Emily yelled, throwing up a wall of fire between herself and the nearest wave of sprites. The intense heat vaporized the incoming ice shards with hisses of steam, but the sprites continued their advance.
Sigrid met the charge head-on with a bellowing war cry. Her axe was a blur of motion, shattering sprites and sending shards of burning ice in every direction. Its hilt glowed with previously unseen runes.
"Try not to hit me!" Emily shouted, dropping her pack so that she could more easily dodge flying ice shards. She lauched targeted fireballs at the sprites swarming Sigrid's flanks, instantly melting the smaller ones. More kept arriving. They were unnervingly fast, darting between Sigrid's wide swings.
"Just keep burnin' 'em, fire girl!" Sigrid grunted, cleaving three sprites in half with a single downward chop.
They fought back-to-back, Emily providing fiery crowd control while Sigrid was whirlwind of destruction at the center. But the sprites were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless as more emerged from the snowy ground. Several ice shards struck Sigrid's bare arms and legs, leaving frost burns that made her hiss in pain but only fueled her fury. Emily felt a cold burn against her cheek as a shard zipped past her defenses.
"There's too many!" Emily cried, blasting another cluster. "We need to fall back! Find a more defensible position!"
"Frostfangs don't retreat from jittering ice shards!" Sigrid roared, even as she was forced backwards. They were nearing the edge of the rise they'd climbed, the ground dropping away sharply behind them into unseen depths masked by swirling snow.
A particularly large sprite, almost waist-high, lunged at Sigrid. She met it with a savage upward swing of her axe, sending icy fragments flying. The force of the blow, however, took her right to the crumbling edge of the snow-covered precipice. At the same moment, a concentrated volley of burning ice shards slammed into the ground near Emily's feet, the intense cold fracturing the already unstable obsidian hidden beneath the snow crust.
With a sickening crack that echoed louder than the wind and the chittering sprites, the ground beneath both women gave way.
Emily gasped as the world dropped out from under her, plunging her into sudden, freezing darkness along with Sigrid and a cascade of snow, ice, and shattered rock. The chittering cries of the frost sprites faded above them.
Instinct took over. Mid-fall, Emily twisted, reaching out blindly in the darkness. Her fingers brushed against something solid and moving. It was Sigrid's arm. She clamped down with all her strength.
"Gotcha!" she yelled, though the wind stole the word.
Ignoring the vertigo and the terrifying proximity of unseen rock walls rushing past, Emily focused desperately on the Stoneshell. Fire! Up!
A blast of heat erupted from the soles of her boots and the palms of her free hand. The sudden deceleration was violent, jarring her teeth and wrenching her shoulder where she held onto Sigrid. The smell of burning leather from her boots and glove filled her nostrils.
But their frantic downward plummet slowed, then stopped with a gut-wrenching lurch, leaving them dangling perhaps fifty feet down in a deep, narrow ravine, suspended solely by the jets of fire roaring from Emily's extremities.
Below them was darkness. Above, a jagged gash of pale sky. Ice coated the sheer rock walls around them.
"By the Frostfather's icy teeth!" Sigrid gasped, dangling heavily from Emily's grip. Her usual bravado was momentarily replaced by wide-eyed shock. "You've got some firepower!"
Emily grunted, straining with the effort of holding up both their weights. The flames flickered. They weren't rising. If anything, they were slowly, almost imperceptibly, sinking. "Can't... lift... both of us... out! Too... heavy!"
Sigrid craned her neck, looking up at the distant rim, then down into the darkness. Panic began to creep into her eyes. "We're stuck?"
"No!" Emily scanned the ravine walls frantically. The rock was sheer, icy, offering no handholds. But across the chasm, maybe forty feet away and slightly higher up, a gnarled dead tree hung from the side of the cliff, just above a narrow ledge. A desperate, risky idea sparked in her mind.
"Hold tight!" Emily yelled over the roar of her own fire jets. "I'm going to light that tree... then jump!"
"Jump? Are you mad?!" Sigrid shouted back.
"Trust me!" Emily didn't have time to explain or to argue. Her heart pounded as she twisted the hand not gripping Sigrid's arm, turning the jet of fire towards the tree. They started falling faster, and Emily poured more power into the jets at her feet, while taking careful aim with her free hand. Remembering Aria's lessons, she compensated for the wind whistling down the ravine and the slight tremble in her own hovering form. She released the jet of fire, turning it into a massive, roaring fireball.
It streaked across the gap, a small orange comet against the grey rock. It struck the dead tree squarely. For a heart-stopping second, nothing happened. Then, a tiny lick of flame appeared, caught hold on the dry, brittle wood, and erupted upwards with astonishing speed. The dead tree became a roaring torch in moments.
Focusing on the burgeoning blaze across the ravine, pouring every ounce of her will into the Stoneshell, Emily shouted their destination. "Tree!"
The world vanished in a simultaneous blast of heat from below and the lurching pull of teleportation. In that searing instant, Emily felt the familiar, aggressive heat of teleportation consuming fabric—her own tunic, trousers, cloak, and gloves igniting and disintegrating, along with Sigrid's minimal costume.
They crashed hard onto the narrow, rocky ledge. Emily landed awkwardly, tumbling over Sigrid, the breath knocked out of her. Smoke and intense heat from the furiously burning tree washed over them, strangely combined with the biting cold wind whistling down the ravine. Loose stones skittered over the edge into the abyss below.
Emily coughed, smoke stinging her lungs, pushing herself up on trembling arms. Her skin felt tight, hot from the teleportation and the nearby blaze, yet simultaneously prickled with goosebumps from the frigid air assaulting her bare body. They were alive. They were out of the main fall, perched precariously on a ledge on the opposite side of the ravine from where they'd fallen. The burning tree cast flickering, dancing shadows on the rock face and their utterly exposed forms.
Sigrid pushed herself up beside Emily, gasping, her eyes wide. After taking a moment to steady herself, she stared at the blazing tree, then back across the dark chasm, then finally down at herself, her expression shifting from shock to utter horror.
"My... my armor! Grognak!" she gasped. She relaxed slightly upon noticing that the massive and clearly enchanted axe was still clutched in her right hand, unharmed. But everything else was gone, leaving only faint soot marks on her bronzed skin. "It's all gone! I'm naked!"
Emily blinked, startled by the sheer panic in her voice. Sigrid looked genuinely distraught, scrambling to cover her chest and pelvis with her arms and axe, her usual booming confidence completely evaporated. It was a little ridiculous, Emily thought, given how little she'd been wearing before.
"You... you jumped us... to a fire?" Sigrid stammered, her voice tight with distress, her eyes darting between Emily, her own nakedness, and the blazing tree. "And it... it burned... our clothes?!"
Emily just nodded, still too breathless and shaken to offer much comfort. She couldn't help a fleeting, slightly ironic thought about their earlier conversation regarding keeping warm. Apparently, Sigrid did mind the exposure. A whole lot.
The reality of their situation crashed down on Emily again. They were alive, yes. But they were trapped partway down an icy ravine, completely naked and exposed to the biting wind on a narrow, crumbling ledge, with no easy way up or down. Squinting and pressing her thighs together against the cold, she scanned the sheer, outward sloping rock face above them, dreading the thought of another climb.
Sigrid hopped up and down, the snow clearly biting at her bare feet. A crimson blush spread across her shoulders, and her braid swung behind her like a frozen whip. "Are you... used to this?!" she spat, glaring at Emily.
Emily glanced down from the cliffs and sighed, hugging her arms across her chest. "Unfortunately, yes. One of the hazards of fire magic. But you said the cold gets the blood flowing, didn't you?" She smiled, despite herself. "Are you... embarrassed? Cold, perhaps?"
Sigrid's face reddened. "I'm stood naked on a frozen cliffside! Of course I'm bloody embarrassed and freezing cold!"
Emily frowned. "But your armor... it barely covered anything! You were swaggering around with your whole butt on show!" She gasped at the sudden sting of an icy draft against her own recently bared buttocks.
"That's different," Sigrid retorted. "My armor is a badge of honor, a mark of strength. It is woven with the history of my people and scarred with my own trials. Every cut, every gap, a mark of resilience. And it's g-gone... because of your magic!"
"I don't see how any of that would make you any warmer!" Emily snapped. A wave of anger passed over her. "Sorry for saving your ungrateful behind! Next time I'll let you fall into the ravine with your precious armor!"
"'Twould be better than slowly freezing to death on the cliffside! Now who's rushing into danger?!"
"I didn't hear you coming up with a better solution!"
They glared at each other across the narrow ledge, their anger almost intense enough to warm them. Almost, but not quite. The wind continued to whip around them, nipping at their bare skin, quite indifferent to their argument.
"Enough!" Emily said finally. Her teeth chattered, and she summoned flames to her hands to warm the ledge. "We're naked. We're freezing. We're stuck. We can argue about whose fault it is when we're not in danger of freezing to death! Right now, we have to get out of here and find some shelter!"