Brightly Woven

loss of the future was more painful than the past. To do it now, to use the loom in such a horrible way, would mean not having the chance to finish North’s cloak, to tie it around his shoulders and see his face.
    But nothing would ever be more important than the bundle of North’s work in my bag, than bringing it to the capital.
    I folded the unfinished cloak and placed it in my bag before turning my attention back to the loom. The wood broke apart with surprising ease, snapping to pieces beneath my weight. I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
    This is what I had wanted, wasn’t it? To be on my own, to live my own life the way I wanted to, away from my family, from the desert, from everything I had ever known. But I had never taken into account how very alone I would be.
    I rubbed two pieces of wood together furiously, as hard as I could for as long as it took—which was nearly an hour. My body came alive, flooding with warmth, but the burning behind my eyes had nothing to do with my effort. I ground the sticks again and again, until sparks finally fell onto the pile of wood like a thousand little stars.
    A cloud of white smoke twisted itself up into the sky. The fire ripped through the dry wood, crackling and popping. I collapsed on the ground beside it, my arms aching, and watched the gold and red flames whip against one another.
    It was not my first sacrifice, and I knew it would not be my last.

    The next morning, the fire had settled down into embers. I scattered them with my foot and left the circle of stones for the next traveler. I felt noticeably lighter as I took to the road again, finally rested enough to continue.
    Soon Hertford, the last small village on the way, came into view. It wasn’t more than a resting stop, with a few taverns and beds for travelers. From there, it would be a full day on foot and then Provincia.
    The village was unremarkable. A thin layer of frost and ice covered the dark stones, forcing me to watch every step I took until I reached the black doors of the nearest tavern.
    I stepped inside the warm room—and immediately tried to walk back out.
    “Sydelle.”
    I let out the breath I had been holding, allowing the door to shut behind me. Sitting at the nearest table, his chair turned to face the door, was Wayland North. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face was set in a furious expression.
    “You shouldn’t be here,” I said. The wizard still looked deathly pale, and there were dark, heavy circles beneath his eyes.
    “You’re right,” he said. “I should be in bed in Arcadia, and you should be at my side, nursing me back to health!”
    “Stop it!” I hissed, taking the open seat at the table. “Don’t turn this into a rotting joke!”
    “I’m not joking,” he said. “How could you be so careless as to go off on your own like that? You know that Dorwan is still out there, wounded or not. What do you think would have happened if he had—if something had—?”
    “You were in no condition to travel,” I said sharply. “You still aren’t in any condition to travel! The whole reason we’re together is to bring Provincia your report! If you couldn’t bring the news, then I was going to do it in your place. I want to stop this war as much as you do—I thought you would understand that.”
    North’s face softened slowly, and he reached across the table and pulled the hat from my head. My hair tumbled down around my face.
    “You foolish girl,” he muttered, now looking more relieved than angry. “You really are too much.”
    “I would have made it, you know,” I said, pulling a piece of bread from North’s plate. “I had everything planned out.”
    North leaned back in his chair. “You made excellent time for being on foot.”
    “Why, thank you,” I said. “But how in the world did you get here before me? I only stopped a few times along the way.”
    “A horse!” he said. “I don’t know why one wasn’t part of your cunning plan.”
    “If you were on a horse, how long have you been here dawdling?” I asked. “And why did you not see me on the way?”
    North suddenly found his gloves to be very interesting. I didn’t miss the way his cheeks colored.
    “You got lost?” I asked. “North, it’s a straight road all the way to Provincia!”
    “I might have taken one or two—or four—wrong turns trying to leave Arcadia,” he said.
    “You’re hopeless!” I said with a laugh. “And besides, you shouldn’t have been riding with