“How are you keeping the mechanisms from freezing up?” Matthew asked, running a single gloved hand over the wooden frame of a trebuchet, which had been carved with Vædic sigils up and down its length. “Enchantments?”

Liv nodded from where she leaned against the crenellations which rimmed the curtain wall encircling the summit of Bald Peak. With the mana of the shoal permeating everything around her, she had plenty of power to waste sculpting blue columbines, and shunting the waste heat to keep Matthew, Rosamund, Arjun, Sidonie and Kaija all warm.

“It’s standard construction in the north,” she explained. “Balanced pairs of Cel and Vær, Ters and Ved, to maintain the parts at a constant temperature, and keep the wood from either rotting or drying out and becoming brittle. In a blizzard, snow will hit the siege engines and melt, and the drops of water will run right off again.”

“That solves one problem,” her adopted brother said, walking away from the trebuchet to join her. Liv turned around, and they looked down at the waystone together.

“We’ve already sighted to drop stones directly on incoming troops,” Liv explained. “Kaija could go into more detail for you, but the long and short of it is, a two hundred count once the lights begin is enough time for a garrison to be ready to bombard any crown troops who try to come in. Not that they can, now, anyway: once Rose re-connected the stone to the control room in this rift, I was able to set it to refuse incoming transport from any waystone except those that are friendly to us.”

“That means there won’t be any more surprise groups of refugees,” Arjun pointed out. “If there’s another attack like the one at Ashford, people won’t be able to escape to us by waystone.”

“No, but they could easily go to Valegard or Al’Fenthia,” Matthew pointed out. “And from there, they could be sent to us. I think forcing people we don’t know to go through that extra step is worthwhile, if it means they can’t drop Genevieve Arundell and two dozen mages behind our lines come spring. And spring is coming.” He shifted his body to look back over the completed shelf and curtain wall again, and the barracks building. “Honestly, Lady Rosamund, what you’ve done here in a month is astounding.”

“It was nice to use magic for something other than fighting,” Rose said, and Liv felt contradictory flashes of warmth and guilt when she heard the words. On the one hand, she was happy that Rose had a chance to create something, for once; on the other, Liv was aware that she’d been the one dragging her lover across two continents to engage in one conflict after another.

“The central keep will take longer.” Rose lifted her arm, two gloved fingers extended from her raised hand to point, as if she was sketching out what she saw in her mind. “I want to make it for more than just military necessity. I want it to be a place where people can actually live.”

“Which brings us to my other thought,” Matthew said. “You can’t garrison this place with humans, Liv. They’ll die of mana poisoning. Even just visiting, like I am, is dangerous.”

“The Elden technique to adjust to the higher mana density of a rift can be taught,” Liv countered. “And once we have our new college operating at capacity, I intend to. It’s been a secret for long enough, and all ignorance does is lead to people getting hurt.”

“But in the meantime, you’re looking at a long term Elden garrison within Whitehill,” Matthew pressed. “That goes beyond temporary support during a time of crisis. You’re pushing for a more permanent alliance.”

Liv nodded. “We’re going to need it. Even if we fight Benedict’s assault off, we won’t be able to rely on Lucania to trade with us any longer, Matthew. Whitehill, Valegaard, and that new barony -”

“Gold Creek,” Matthew broke in.

“Right, that’s still only three real population centers, with however many villages,” Liv pointed out. “Trade with the north is the best option, unless you want to try breaking the Sherard monopoly with Lendh ka Dakruim using our waystones.”

“How long will the Bald Peak stone take to recharge on its own?” Matthew asked.

Rosamund and Sidonie exchanged a glance.

“Our first measurement indicates that the stone will be ready for transport every thirty-two hours,” Sidonie explained. “During an eruption, that time would decrease, but we’re not yet certain by how much.”

“And I don’t think it’s a final number, anyway,” Rose said. “I made a connection, but it’s only a thin piece of mana stone right now. Based on the size of the rest of the vein that leads down to the bluff, it should be a lot thicker. I think we’ve got a case of clogged pipes, at the moment.”

“So,” Liv said, finally working her way around to the question that had been on her mind from the moment Matthew arrived. “Do you think your mother will be happy with what we’ve done, or furious?”

“Probably a little bit of both,” Matthew admitted. “You’ve denied the waystone to our enemies, but you’ve also built a fortification that we can’t man with our own people.”

“The warriors of House Syvä will be more than happy to hold this ground for Livara,” Kaija pledged. “You need have no concern of that.”

“Thank you,” Matthew said, inclining his head. “On behalf of my family, and the people of Whitehill.”

“I hope the Ashford refugees have made my earlier arguments more clear,” Arjun said, after a space of silence. “We need healing facilities not only at Whitehill, but at the southern pass, and here as well. You may have been able to survive on a single chirurgeon with a few enchanted wands before now, but after the first battle you’re going to have hundreds - thousands - of wounded.”

“We’ve given you a manor on The Hill to convert into a hospital,” Matthew protested.

“Which one?” Liv asked, furrowing her brow.

“The Drovers Guild pulled out of Whitehill when it became clear we were breaking with the crown,” he explained. “Mother declared their property in the city abandoned, and reverted to the Duchy.”

“That will do for Whitehill,” Arjun conceded. “But you need something at the pass, and a structure here, as well. We can pull our wounded soldiers back to Whitehill for recovery once they’re in no immediate danger, but the initial treatment needs to happen near the front lines.”

Matthew winced, but nodded. “You have to understand, our first priority has been fortifications. If we don’t have those, then nothing else is going to matter.”

“And if you don’t have soldiers to man your walls, masonry alone isn’t going to hold that pass,” Arjun argued. Liv couldn’t help letting a smile curl her lips: it was good to see Arjun being so assertive, especially with someone he didn’t know well. She sometimes worried that her friend had gotten too comfortable with following her lead.

Matthew raised his one hand, palm up, in a gesture of surrender. “I understand. Lady Rosamund, can you create a structure here? Down by the waystone, outside the shoals, so we’re not poisoning our patients?”

“If all you want is a basic shell, it won’t take me long,” Rose confirmed. “We can get beds from Al’Fenthia.”

“And I’ll send word to father down at the south pass,” Matthew promised.

“Good. The next difficulty is staffing three facilities,” Arjun continued. “You’ve got Mistress Trafford, but she’s the only chirurgeon in the area. Every member of the mage’s guild gets basic training -”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“We’re going to need as much of the guild fighting as we can,” Matthew said, shaking his head.

Arjun nodded. “We can get some healers from Al’Fenthia, but House Keria can’t afford to strip their city bare, either. We need more people, and I have an idea about where to get them.”

Liv blinked; it was a perfect solution if Arjun could pull it off, and she hadn’t even thought about it. “You want to bring in your jati?” she asked.

Her friend nodded. “Tej Mishra owes us for helping at the Well of Bones,” Arjun pointed out. “And Vivek Sharma seemed to take quite an interest in you in a very short time, Liv. I want to take the waystone to Akela Kila, and try to convince them to lend us as many healers as they can.”

Matthew was already shaking his head. “Lendh ka Dakruim would never take a side in a Lucanian power struggle,” he said. “And if they did, it would be with House Sherard. That relationship goes back centuries.”

“They wouldn’t be taking a side, though,” Liv pointed out. “They wouldn’t be sending ksatriya, only healers. And Tej Mishra counted Jurian as a friend. He can’t be happy about what happened at Coral Bay. Pandit Sharma even told me that the world was going to have to change to deal with Ractia’s return. I think he should go, Matthew. The worst that happens is that they say no.”

“No, the worst that happens is that the Sherard’s have agents there, and they take Arjun captive or kill him,” Rose pointed out.

“Send Elenda with him,” Liv suggested. “And a few Whitehill guards. That should be enough of a group to make a Sherard think twice.”

“Alright. We’ll send Elenda and a few guards back this way to link up with you, Arjun,” Matthew agreed. “In the meantime, perhaps you can help Lady Rosamund figure out the basic layout of a field hospital down by the waystone. Liv, I’d like you to come back to Whitehill with me. We can’t afford for you to be all the way up here when the thaws begin.”

Liv couldn’t help but frown at that. “I’d prefer to stay here longer, if I can,” she admitted.

“Why?” Matthew asked. “The basic fortifications are complete, the waystone’s about as secure as we’re going to make it in the time we have left. If the Eld are willing to garrison the peak, I’d say we’ve shored up this weakness.”

Liv had been avoiding this conversation, but it seemed there was no point to putting it off longer. “You remember how I used to get headaches, and feel ill, if I didn’t get the right food, Matthew?”

Her adopted brother nodded. “Of course. Eld need mana-rich food. I don’t think anyone who spends time with you is likely to forget that.”

“My -” Liv struggled with how to put things into words without going into detail about what she’d done at the Well of Bones, and at the Tomb of Celris. “My condition has been getting worse,” she said, finally. “My body needs to be inside shoals as much as possible. Spending too much time at Whitehill is going to make me sick, Matthew. It starts with headaches, and then they get so bad I can’t sleep. I’ve avoided letting it go past that point so far, but - once the fighting starts, I’m going to have to be at the south pass for as long as things continue. I’d like to avoid making myself sick until I have to.”

Matthew turned to Kaija. “Is this common among Eld?” he asked.

The armorer shifted her feet, and clasped her gloved hands behind her back. “Not common, no,” she explained. “Only among those with very strong Vædic heritage. Auris ka Syvä would often go to the shoals of the Tomb, to ease his pains by soaking himself in the mana there. I am told Elder Aira of House Keria must do the same. It is - unusual for one several generations removed from a Vædic ancestor.”

“Does it have anything to do with that crown?” Matthew asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Not directly,” Liv answered. “It won’t help matters if I stop wearing it, if that’s what you're asking.”

“Alright, stay here, then,” he said, with a sigh. “I’ll try to explain it to both our mothers without upsetting them.”

“I can come back to help in her place,” Sidonie offered. “Now the rift is under Liv’s control, my help here isn’t truly needed.”

“Can you mark out those dream wards you designed with chalk before you go?” Rose asked. “I want to set them into the curtain walls...”

☙

After Matthew and Sidonie returned to Whitehill, the cold began to break.

More and more, Liv couldn’t help but think, on a sun-drenched morning beneath endless blue skies, that it would be a wonderful day to spend skiing down the mountain slopes, perhaps with Emma or her father.

It took a few days for Elenda Fisher to arrive from Whitehill with her escort of soldiers, and in that time Master Grenfell returned through the waystone from Al’Fenthia with his family. They joined a shipment of supplies headed south along the mine road, and fifty of the healthiest Ashford troops accompanied the wagons. Her old teacher paused only long enough to harangue Liv about continuing her training.

“Have those Elden warriors throw ice at you every morning or something,” Grenfell called down, from his saddle. Little Lenota, his grand niece, sat in front of him, huddled in a thick, fur-lined winter cloak.

“No chance the guild mistress makes it out here, then?” Liv asked, standing at his stirrup.

Her old teacher snorted, telling Liv exactly what he thought of that idea. “She’s rebuilding a guild from the ground up,” Grenfell said. “I think Lia drastically overestimated how much time she’d have for you. You still have that dreamstone I gave you?”

Liv nodded, and patted the pocket beneath her skirt. “Right here.”

“I’ll give Duchess Julianne the other half,” her old teacher promised. “She wants to show you a few tricks with Luc.”

By the time he was ready to leave, Arjun had helped Rosamund to sketch out the dimensions of a field hospital. Once they’d made the decision to place it on the bluff above the river, outside of the shoal, Liv had suggested they attach it to a new guard barracks, to replace the wooden shack that Piers and his men had been using all winter.

“Good luck,” Liv told her friend, and then leaned in to clasp Arjun in an embrace. “Pass my best wishes to Tej Mishra and Vivek Sharma, will you?” She stepped back and made an effort to smile. “You can even tell your former betrothed hello for me, if you see her.”

“Let’s hope that I don’t,” Arjun grumbled. With Elenda and the rest of their escort, he mounted the waystone, then leaned down and touched one of the sigils. Liv had altered the inscriptions in preparation for his journey, removing enemy-held locations such as Freeport, and setting the stone to have easy access to their potential allies.

When the flash of light had faded, and her friend was gone, Liv was left alone with Rosamund and Kaija.

“I feel like everyone's off to a dozen different places,” she complained. “Arjun to Akela Kila, Sidonie in Whitehill, my father in Varuna. Keri, Wren and Ghveris chasing Baron Erskine through the mountains.”

“We’ll see them all again soon enough,” Rose told her, and slipped an arm around Liv’s waist. “Come on.”

The days slipped into a routine.

There wasn’t much Liv could do to help Rose raise stone walls down at the base of the mountain, so she spent her mornings in Authority training with Kaija and the warriors who had come from Kelthelis. Most of them only had imprinted a single word - Cel - but a few had learned a second. The most common combination was Cel and Dā, but Ve, the word of storms came in right behind.

“There’s a two-word spell that lets you unleash a truly terrifying blizzard,” Kaija explained to Liv one morning. She alternated throwing blades of ice with gusts of wind, while the leader of the hunters, a man named Anssi, tried to slow Liv’s reactions using Dā.

“Have you figured it out yet?” Liv asked, through gritted teeth. Spiraling, geometric patterns of ice crystals surrounded her, painting the bare stone of the rock shelf atop Bald Peak in mesmerizing patterns.

Kaija shook her head. “It’s one thing to use two words, one after the other,” she said. “It’s another to combine them.”

Julianne said much the same, in Liv’s dreams. Once it had become clear that she wouldn’t be returning to Whitehill until it was time to march south, Liv’s adopted mother had begun visiting her dreams every evening.

“I’ve had the concept since my first year at Coral Bay,” Julianne explained. “Luc to pull lightning down from the clouds, combined with Aluth to turn it into mana.” The two women sat on vibrant green grass at the summit of Deer Peak, where the duchess had taken Liv to first learn the royal word.

“The Vædim used wind to make mana,” Liv mused. “And the tides. I don’t see any reason that lightning couldn’t work the same way.”

Julianne nodded, with an enthusiasm for magic that sent a stab of pain through Liv’s heart. Was this what she’d been like as a young woman, before she was forced to leave Coral Bay to be wed? “But since I never joined the guild, I was never able to learn Aluth,” she said. “So my notes have just sat around collecting dust for years. The only one who had the combination of words to pull it off was my uncle, but -”

“It was going to be your archmage spell.” Liv put an arm around her adopted mother. “I understand. Giving it up was like admitting you’d never get there.”

“That dream was gone a long time ago,” Julianne admitted. “But by the time I was ready to admit it, I was afraid to give Uncle Caspian anything that might end up getting used against us.” She opened a dreamed book, and the Vædic sigils were clear and sharp as fresh ink.

“I don’t actually know if this incantation will work,” the duchess admitted. “But it's yours, Liv, if you want it.”

When Liv woke that morning, she dipped her quill in a pot of ink and set to writing.

The sun rose earlier, and set later, with every day that passed. While at the fortifications on the heights, the air remained cold and crisp, down at the waystone, beads of water began to drip from icicles at noon.

By the time Arjun returned from Lendh ka Dakruim, the waystone was surrounded by trampled, sucking mud, instead of snow.