Page 34 of Sightwitch
“Exactly. And it does not merely apply to our work, yes? There is never a reason to rush. Wherever you are trying to go will still be there, even if it takes you longer to reach it.”
Sister Rose had been right that day in the Convent. Tanzi would have waited for me no matter how long it took me to fetch my stew.
But would she wait now?Couldshe?
“Doesn’t matter,” I hissed, toddling back upright while the Rook watched. “If I hurt myself, I’ll never reach Tanzi or the other Sisters. Rule 10. Rule 10.”
The Rook warbled his agreement before reclaiming his spot on my shoulder. Then, in a rare display of affection, he rubbed his beak on my jaw.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I murmured, and off we went once more.
On, on, on. Cold, cold, cold.
Until at last, the hallways changed shape … then gave way entirely.
I had reached a cavern.
It was like being inside a glacier—I can think of no other way to describe it. Bluish light diffused the space, though where it came from, I could not say. Perhaps Sirmaya Herself, but certainly not the sky. Larger than any floor of the Crypts, the cavern stretched for as far as I could see.
As did black lines. At first, I thought they were cracks. Yet when I stilled my chattering teeth long enough to examine more closely, I found veins of pure darkness wefting through the ice.
I had no inkling what they might be, and I was too cold to much care.
A ledge crooked out from the frozen wall. It didnotlook safe. A single false move, and I would fall straight down to a death of shattered bones and frostbite.
However, right was the only direction to go, so right the Rook and I aimed. We were achingly slow,tooslow, and the quicksilver taunted me with its ceaseless drip-dripping.
I was helpless to move faster, though. So cold had I become that each planting of my foot felt like someone else’s foot. I heard the heel land—and I saw the heel land!—but I certainly didn’t feel it.
All I wanted was to stop. To lie down. To sleep.
In the deepest recesses of my mind, I knew this was a sign the cold was killing me. That to slumber would be my end.
Were it not for the Rook pecking my cheek every few minutes, I probably would have given in to Sirmaya’s final sleep forever.
The quicksilver was halfway through the hourglass when I saw a platform perhaps forty paces ahead and wide as the observatory. I could stop there. I could build a fire and escape these grasping claws of drowsy death.
Moments blurred past. Drip, drip, drip.
I reached the platform.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I stumbled for the center. Fire. I just wanted afire. The Rook took flight, winging toward a pile of rags against the ice wall. Only with him gone did I realize how much heat he’d been emitting.
My pack fell to the stone with a loud thwack. Dust puffed up, or perhaps frost. I didn’t bother to examine it closely because I could not have cared less.
Fire, fire, FIRE. Nothing mattered beyond getting warm.
I heaped out three Firewitched matches, each the length of my forearm. I’d never used them before, but I’d seen Sister Ute do it often enough in the kitchens, singing, “Smack the dough and pound the dough, hammer it and knead it,” the whole time.
“Ignite,” I whispered.
The magic answered in a flash of light, a crack of sound, and then heat. Blessed,beautifulheat to cascade over me.
Slowly, as the quicksilver gathered in my hourglass, I thawed, all while Sister Ute’s song tickled against my brain over and over.
Smack the dough and pound the dough,
Hammer it and knead it.
