Daja zipped through a crack in the earth and into a pocket of water. She was too frightened to stop and get her bearings, or to call for Briar. Escape was the only thing on her mind. Surely there ought to be a way out in this web of seams and cracks, some vent that would take her into open air.

She found it. Coolness washed over her, the gentleness of deep shade: she soared free of the ground. Below her another hot spring bubbled, pool after pool of mineral-rich water and cooking mud. It was cupped in masses of granite. The trees were all pines, which meant she was high up indeed.

For long moments she drifted, letting the cool air ooze through her magical self. Am I the luckiest girl in Emelan or not? she thought. I’d’ve cooked for certain, if not for a thing I made by accident—by accident!—this morning.

If it was by accident, she thought again. I did something almost like it yesterday, just to have some light.

I wonder if squares like those could be, well, magical shields. I’d have to try them out, though—tinker with them, like Frostpine does with gadgets. What uses might they have?

She gave up such thinking after a while. This was something best talked over with her teacher.

Daja rose higher in the air until she could see an entire complex of pools and mudpots. Where was all this, anyway? Curious, she flowed over the granite rim of the area around the springs and up a smaller hill, where a herd of shaggy white animals grazed. She stopped to look at them, baffled. Never before had she seen such creatures, though they looked much like very large, very shaggy white goats. Thin black horns punctuated the top of their long faces.

You look like a collection of grandfathers, she thought, amused.

Reaching the hilltop, she found she was at the edge of a cliff. Below was a rocky valley. A small river cut it in two along its length.

Cold air drifted by. She looked for the source, and quivered with astonishment. Near her end of the valley lay an immense, jagged ribbon of ice. The valley seemed to continue on under it; the mountains that hemmed the valley also limited that frozen river. It stretched back into those mountains as far as she could see. She tried to guess how deep the center of the ribbon went before it reached the valley floor. It must have been hundreds of feet thick.

Now she heard sounds under the whistle of the wind, an abundance of creaks, groans, and snaps. They rose from the deep cracks in the ice-river’s surface, as if the ice either moved or had thousands of residents inside, hammering away. Its depths glinted cool blue. Its surface was filthy, covered with scattered rock and dirt.

What could it be? she wondered. And why did it make so much noise?

Daj’? sounded in her mind. Briar’s magical voice was thin and distant. This is no time to go frisking off! Where are you?

I have no idea, she replied. I think I took the wrong way out.

Wait—I’ll catch up, the boy ordered.

She looked at the iceless end of the valley. Where was Gold Ridge castle? For that matter, where were the farms and trees? If the land below had ever supported people, it did so no longer. Brush and reeds grew on the banks of the small river that trickled from the end of the ice-ribbon and lay more thickly on the sides of the valley, but it was all short growth, not very old. A herd of elk grazed in the distance as calmly as if it were full night. These animals weren’t used to being hunted.

If she couldn’t see the castle, she ought to know at least where Tris and Sandry were. She could certainly feel Briar’s approach. Concentrating, she searched for a sign of the other two girls’ magic.

There it was, miles away, and hidden behind a granite ridge. Their power was a glow on that horizon, shining through a layer of smoke.

The grassfires were closer to the castle than they’d been the day before.

That old buzzard Yarrun better do what he says he can, Daja thought grimly. I’d as soon not be grilled like sausage for a giant’s supper.

Where is this place? Briar demanded, popping from the hot springs to halt beside her. You’re miles from Gold Ridge!

I know, she said. Look at that!

Briar disappeared so quickly she thought he’d evaporated like water in the sun. He’d jumped over to the icy ribbon and was drifting across its surface, visible just as a silver glimmer to her magical vision.

I don’t want to go there, she told him. It’s cold. It won’t like me!

It’s just ice, he protested.

And ice and smiths are supposed to mix? she demanded, ghosting down the cliff face. I’ll freeze and go all brittle and break.

Have you ever seen anything like it? he asked, his voice filled with wonder. He seeped into a deep blue crack.

I liked the hot springs better, she said. The cold ate into her, making her feel sluggish and heavy.

There must have been something in her magical voice; he was at her side in a flash, urging her up the cliff face. The higher she rose, the more warmth she took from the stone. By the time they were at the ridge, she felt much better.

I saw a river down there, Briar remarked. Melted water, running through a long tube in the ice. It was beautiful! Recovering from his daze, he added, What happened? We got in the hot springs under the castle and you were gone. We didn’t wreck any plumbing, by the way. The water came through another crack in the stone. We should close the opening, though, before somebody gets flooded.

How? Daja asked. I don’t know which of us did it or how, and I truly don’t know how to stop it up again. Moving rock is what Tris does.

Then let’s ask her, the boy replied sternly. Let’s get it fixed and go back to work, before some long-neb finds our bodies just standing in the baths. You got your bond to her?