Firewalk by Anne Logston

toward him. Terralt shook his head impatiently.
    “Just a scratch,” he said. “We’d better move on quickly. He couldn’t have been alone.”
    Kayli had to admit the sense of his words, and she made no protest as Terralt once more spurred his gelding to a gallop. Thankfully no other Sarkondish raiders materialized out of the rain, although Kayli could not resist the impulse to glance behind her every few moments.
    It unnerved her to ride on and on by night, with not so much as moonlight to guide their way. How could Terralt possibly know where they were going in the darkness and the rain? Surely the night must be nearly over, but the darkness continued; only Kayli’s energy was fading. She was grateful for her Bregondish saddle; it had been made for just such long rides, even equipped with special straps to be buckled across the thighs so that the rider could sleep in the saddle if necessary. Now Kayli regretted that she had never developed such skill; a few moments of rest would have been a great blessing. As time passed, Kayli mustered every bit of her temple discipline to hold out just one moment longer, and then one more, and then one more...even her cold, wet skin and her helpless shaking were no longer enough to keep her alert. When she thought she could bear not a single moment more, Terralt pulled the horses to a halt under a cluster of trees. Kayli thought he had decided to camp after all, but they paused only long enough to let the horses regain their wind, then rode on. Kayli surreptitiously swallowed a stimulant potion from her pack, but the potion roused only a brief renewal of strength and warmth from a body already drained of its resources. She huddled in Terralt’s cloak, clung to the saddle, and endured.
    At last a dim gray light appeared behind the heavy clouds, but neither the rain nor Terralt’s speed diminished. As the potion she’d drunk wore off, Kayli was forced to buckle the saddle straps across her thighs. After that there was nothing to do but hold the cloak closed, clutch the raised pommel of the saddle—and what, she wondered dully, had become of the lovely hawk Randon had given her?—as she drifted in and out of consciousness, dozing and then jerking upright again.
    Maja halted so suddenly that Kayli was thrown forward and would have fallen were it not for the sturdy straps. Even so, she only half woke, blearily realizing that they were surrounded no longer by wetland countryside, but by stone walls, a courtyard of some sort, and that people flocked around them.
    There was a confusing babble of voices, but Kayli was too weak to translate the rapid Agrondish and could only sit limply while hands fumbled to unbuckle the straps holding her in the saddle.
    She drifted out of consciousness as she was lifted from the saddle but half woke again sometime later when she realized she had been lowered into a large hot bath. The warmth was so delicious that Kayli struggled to stay conscious, but in vain. She roused again only when someone held a cup to her lips; remembering only that she was fasting, she struggled weakly to push the cup away, spitting out the bitter liquid.
    She recognized Terralt’s voice, and this time she could follow the Agrondish.
    “She said she was on some kind of fast. She was drinking potions out of that bag.”
    A strange voice. “She’s half-starved and chilled through. I’m afraid she’ll get the choking sickness if I can’t get something into her. Still, I don’t dare risk poisoning her by mixing potions. What can she have?”
    “I don’t know.” Terralt’s voice was heavy with irritation. “I was escorting her, not feeding her. Broth. Tea. That’s all I saw her take.”
    Some immeasurable time later another cup was put to her lips, and Kayli smelled rich broth. She drank gratefully; when the cup was empty, she was given more, and she drank that, too. Voices faded in and out, but she paid them no heed. She was safe; that was all she needed to know. She