Free SpringFire by Terie Garrison

the sittack changed everything, Shandry seemed inclined to accept whatever Traz said.
    We traveled slowly that day, even once we were back on the road. It didn’t snow again, and when the sun cleared the mountaintops ahead of us, it shone enough to take the sting out of the chill. Still, the icy layer under the fresh-fallen snow made for treacherous footing, and each of us fell several times. At least Dyster was sure-footed. Even Traz had to pay attention to where he stepped and resorted to using his staff as a walking stick.
    That night and the next were miserable. Traz found us reasonably sheltered places in which to camp, but no more luck finding caves so it was impossible to sleep warmly.
    The middle of the fourth day found us crossing over the pass. Not that I would’ve been able to tell if Shandry hadn’t said something. I’d expected the climb to grow steeper as we went higher, but it wasn’t like that at all, just a steady rise that eventually flattened out.
    “Well,” Shandry said, breaking the silence in which we typically walked. “Here we are.”
    Traz gave her a quizzical look. “Where are we?” My question exactly.
    “The top. It’s not quite all downhill from here, but pretty much.”
    I let out a snort. “Very funny. We can’t be at the top. There are the mountaintops there.” I pointed to several peaks on either side of us.
    It was Shandry’s turn to laugh. “You don’t think the road would cross the highest peaks, do you? When there’s a pass as low as this?”
    I felt myself blush. Of course, now that she pointed it out, it was obvious. Feeling a little stupid, I smiled at her and shrugged.
    “It’ll be much easier going now. This pass widens into a valley that we can follow pretty much straight down.”
    Soon we came to a huge meadow. It must be three miles to the other side, I guessed. The wind blew viciously across it, straight into our faces.
    “Let’s get moving,” I said, hunching my shoulders and moving closer to Dyster to try to gain some warmth from his body heat. I was so tired of being cold, and I couldn’t wait to get to Delaron. I clucked the pony into motion.
    Then I wondered—could I use my maejic to warm myself? Mages used their power to extend the growing season, so why not? It didn’t require much thought to keep hold of Dyster’s reins and follow the others, so I turned my concentration inward. Imagining a blazing fire on a hearth or a bed piled high with furs didn’t work, but just as when I’d tried walking quietly, once I stopped tying to direct the maejic power and just let it flow, it turned to that which I desired. It didn’t warm me completely, but it took the edge off the cold, and I was much more comfortable after that.
    I tired more quickly that day than ever before. As I sat next to the fire Traz built, hardly able to keep my eyes open, I wondered what was wrong. The day hadn’t been more difficult than any other; as a matter of fact, the terrain was the easiest we’d yet traversed.
    Then I realized that, of course, I’d been using my maejic all day. I couldn’t remember ever having done that before. Muttering something about needing to meditate, I dug my kit out of my pack and stumbled a short way away. I chose the forest green candle for strength and pale green for health, and settled into the routine.
    At first, I was so tired that I found it difficult to keep my mind on what I was doing. Pushing through just drained me further. But as I made myself do it, energy began to seep into me, slowly filling me, renewing my spirit, refreshing my soul. My breathing slowed, as did my heartbeat. I relaxed and centered myself in the inflow of power.
    When I finally opened my eyes again and blew out the candles, I felt energized, as if I could run at full speed all the way to Delaron.

    The next morning, I discovered one big advantage to being on the eastern side of the mountains: the sun shone on us much earlier. Of course, when I remarked on this to