Frostbite

Chapter Twenty-Five

When her eyes opened, moonlight still shone jaggedly through a gap in the broken shutters.

Eira lay facing the fire, which was beginning to burn down to the embers. Gwen was gone.

Eira called her name, sleepiness still dampening her senses.

"I'm here," came Gwen's voice from across the room.

Eira propped herself into a sitting position, blinking the sleep from her eyes. She turned her head in the direction of where she presumed Gwen was and to her surprise, she was standing and not shivering—in the process of repacking her satchel.

"Should you be...?" Eira murmured.

"I'm better. At least... I've rested enough and I'm not so cold anymore. Can't say the same for my leg though."

Eira gave a nod, her concern more or less eased. She could only hope Gwen was telling her the truth.

She focused on rising and getting ready to leave. The sleep hasn't helped much with her fatigue, but that was only to be expected. She had exerted her own powers and though it hasn't been near the level that Gwen had, excessive use took a considerable toll on one's body. But hopefully, after she'd moved around a little, it would lessen.

Just as Eira was finishing putting her bedroll in her pack, the door opened to reveal Kea. To her irritation, he didn't look tired. She returned her focus to fastening the buckles on her pack.

"Are you awake?" he asked them.

Eira didn't look up. "What does it look like? We're asleep?"

"I was just making sure." He sounded vexed, and she was almost glad. Though she hated to admit it, she'd been unconsciously worrying that as a result of her actions, their abnormal normality would be changed to a degree.

A short laugh escaped Gwen, earning her a glare.

"If you're done laughing at my expense," Kea said shortly, a moment later, "then let me tell you what I actually came here to say."

"What is it?" Eira asked eventually.

"We apparently aren't leaving yet. There's something our leader wants to tell us."

~

The four of them gathered closely around the small table in the other room, illuminated solely by the flickering light of the small overhead lamp.

There was something held in Darrow's hand, almost obscured by the sleeve of his cloak.

It looked to be an aged roll of parchment, yellowed and stained by presumably years of being handled.

"I imagine you're wondering what it was that we stole from the councillor."

"Just a bit," Kea said, sarcasm filling his voice. "Seeing as two of us died for it. It must be something groundbreaking if it risks sacrificing lives for."

Darrow went silent for a minute, and Eira thought for a moment that he wasn't going to respond.

"Until we complete our operation in its entirety, I will not know whether or not they died in vain. Furthermore, many more could die between then and now. We can do all that we possibly can to stop it, but even that may not succeed. All we can do is try to minimise losses. Everyone who agreed to follow me on this mission knew that. They were willing to pursue our goals even if it meant those possible outcomes." Eira got the feeling from what he said that he was trying to convince himself more than Kea. Darrow too had seemingly been affected by what had happened back there.