Saviar also kept his ears attuned for sounds of a chase. Jeremilan had promised not to follow, at the risk of revealing the mages and losing his great granddaughter's life; but the Renshai could forgive the elder breaking that particular vow. Every tiny sound jarred Saviar, forcing him to analyze it. He found his back muscles tightening as he imagined some amorphous magic spearing through his back.
"Are we far enough now?" Saviar asked for the fifth time in as many hours.
Light as a dancer, Chymmerlee leaped over a decaying stump, avoiding the upright, jagged edges. "Not yet, my sweet. Not yet."
The forest gradually faded into darkness, and Saviar found himself straining his vision for hazards, twice tripping over roots and rocks rendered invisible by the encroaching twilight. The second time, he nearly pulled Chymmerlee down with him. He caught himself about to swear, cleaning up his language so as not to offend her.
Subikahn turned, but Saviar could not see his expression in the darkness. "Time to set camp?"
Saviar looked at Chymmerlee. "Is it safe to stop?"
Chymmerlee glanced through the brush. "I think so. If we don't draw attention to ourselves."
Subikahn grunted. "You mean, no fire."
"No fire," Chymmerlee agreed, clearly searching for something. Apparently frustrated, she mumbled incoherently, made a broad gesture, and a patch of light appeared in front of her. Though not particularly strong, it cut through the forest darkness like a knife, revealing the ground and all of its stumbling blocks. With movements of one hand, she caused it to roll across the ground like a brilliant fog. Finally, she let it sit on a relatively flat area without jutting roots, large branches, or stumps. She picked up a few errant rocks and branches, tossing them into the darkness. "There. That should be comfortable enough for sitting and sleeping."
Saviar and Subikahn only stared as she worked.
Subikahn regained his voice first. "Doesn't that sort of negate our… not building… a fire?"
Chymmerlee shook her head. "Not really, no. The light stops abruptly at the edges of the spell. You can't see it from a distance or smell it, like you can a fire. And it's only there for as long as we need it." The light disappeared abruptly, leaving Saviar half-blinded.
Saviar blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to regain his night vision. "Couldn't you have done that sooner? Maybe before I broke my toe and nearly hurled you into a tree?"
"I'm sorry." The light snapped back into existence. "Do you want me to try to heal your toe?"
Saviar closed his eyes, replaying the sudden flare on the backs of his eyelids. "Not necessary. It's not actually broken. I was exaggerating to make a point."
"Oh," Chymmerlee said, with a hint of confusion. Apparently, such a tactic did not exist in her culture. "So your toe's… all right?"
"Just a bit bruised, I'm sure."
Chymmerlee took Saviar's hand. "Why don't you let me check, just in case?"
Saviar smiled, staring into her soft, blue-gray eyes.
Subikahn snorted. He used a tone usually reserved for babies, "Poor widdle Savi. Did 'ou stub 'ou's widdle toe?" He grabbed Saviar's arm. "Come on. We need to practice." He called over his shoulder. "Chymmer, can you dig up some food?Your mages didn't exactly provision us for our trip."
"You could hardly expect them to, under the circumstances." Saviar shook free of Subikahn's grip. He waited until Chymmerlee left, killing her light, to add, "Very nice. Make me look like an infant in front of her."
Subikahn threw up his hands. "Don't attack the messenger. You were the one acting infantile; I just pointed it out."
"I'll remember that the next time you're trying to grab an intimate moment with Talamir."
Subikahn stopped, stiffening. "Shut up, Saviar." Darkness hid his expression, but his tone dripped warning.
Saviar drew Motfrabelonning. "You're begging for a spar, my brother."
Subikahn turned away. "Do your svergelse here. I'll find my own place." He started walking.
"What's wrong with a bit of sparring?" Saviar called after him, but Subikahn never paused, disappearing into the woodland darkness. He probably left me next to a bunch of spearlike broken trees and massive patches of nettles. Saviar stepped around the area to get a clearer feel. Wants me to trip and skewer myself. Saviar did not believe a word of his own thoughts. Renshai practiced in the best and worst of conditions, training for every contingency.
Saviar lunged into violent svergelse, his movements smooth and strong, his sword a perfect extension of his arm. It felt good to have his grace back, his quickness and his power. He had felt naked and helpless without them. Now, he entered a higher level of thought in which all of him became a glorious weapon, sheering through enemies with the ease of a knife cleaving butter. No one and nothing could stop him. He dedicated his competence and his life to Sif, the goddess of Renshai, and her son Modi, Wrath.
Saviar did not stop until he fairly collapsed with exhaustion, and Chymmerlee was there the instant the swordwork ended. "You're beautiful," she whispered.
"What?"
"You're beautiful," Chymmerlee repeated. "You move with the flawless elegance of a swan combined with the speed and power of a galloping horse. It's amazing to watch you and impossible not to."
It felt to Saviar as if he blushed from the roots of his hair to the bottoms of his feet. "I'm… nothing special. Just a soldier flailing around with a sword." Among Renshai, at least, it was essentially true. "Now you, Chymmerlee.You're beautiful."
"See if you still feel that way after you eat what I've found. I didn't want to range too far."
"I'm hungry enough to eat dirt." Saviar sheathed his sword. "I'm sure whatever you found will suit me." So long as you found a lot of it.
Chymmerlee led Saviar back to the place she had chosen, reactivating her light to reveal Subikahn sitting on a fallen log, stuffing his mouth with shoots. "These are really good," he said without bothering to swallow. "You should try them."
"I intend to," Saviar replied. "Assuming they're not all already in your mouth."
"There're plenty for everyone," Chymmerlee assured him, gesturing at piles of tender shoots, purple berries, and multicolored flowers. "I know you men prefer meat, but it's not safe to eat it raw. And my light doesn't give off any heat."
" 's all right," Subikahn said around another mouthful. "This is delicious. Very satisfying."
Saviar doubted he would find it equally so, given the enormous difference in size between his twin and himself. He wondered how Chymmerlee had developed such a vast store of knowledge regarding wild foods. Surely the mages could magic-up their own sustenance, without need for scavenging. Saviar crouched beside his brother and forced himself not to bolt the food. He wanted to show Chymmerlee the best of his manners.
Chymmerlee addressed the unspoken question. "We can't create objects that don't already exist, so mages and elves have to gather or grow their food, just like anyone else. I have a knack for finding the good stuff; plus, I get sick of the caves. I don't look threatening, and I have magic enough to hide from bandits. So, I'd volunteer to fetch the water and foodstuffs as much as possible. Eventually, it became my job."
Subikahn finally swallowed. "That's what you were doing when we met you?"
"Yes." Chymmerlee hovered over Saviar. "Try this. Oh, and this."
Saviar intended to eat pretty much everything, with or without her directions.
"Have as much as you want. I've already eaten, your brother's almost done, and I can always fetch more."
Saviar finished chewing and swallowed before speaking. "Relax. I'm fine." He wished she would just let him eat. The more she flitted around him, the slower he filled his empty gut.
Subikahn came to Saviar's rescue by engaging Chymmerlee in conversation. "What if there's a blizzard?"