boy he crippled when he destroyed the assembly hall.”
I nodded, not only listening to Reed’s reasoning, but also picturing the youth whose left leg from the knee down had been destroyed as he fled the hall. The poor boy had tripped over falling debris, then had his leg crushed when the ogre trampled over it. My stomach still turned at the gruesome condition in which he’d left the boy. I couldn’t feel bad that the ogre was buried beneath several feet of snow.
Sana put her hands on her hips. “This right here,” she said, nodding at the snow pileup below, “is saving elven lives.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Reed and I said in unison.
Ten minutes passed without the slightest movement beneath the snow.
We trekked down the mountain. I was relieved for the movement and warmth it would bring. Using so much of my cooling powers had left me chilled to the bone.
The way back to Elkcan was slow going. Even with the help of the moon, it was tricky to spot protruding stones waiting to send us tumbling head over feet.
By the time Elkcan came into sight, dawn was nudging night from the sky.
We leapt over a small stream and clomped across a crude narrow bridge, crossing over to the village. There were still cottages that had been spared the ogres’ attentions, but many of the larger structures had all been smashed. Luckily, the village school was still intact, though a lot of parents were keeping their children home. I didn’t blame them after seeing the boy who’d lost the use of his leg.
It felt warm again, like I’d portaled from winter to summer. For the moment, all was quiet among the sleeping citizens. Over half the villagers had fled to Bluespark. More would leave over the weekend.
Keeping quiet, we made our way to the tent camp set up in a small public field. Reed and I shared a small tent next to Sana and Devdan's canvas dwelling.
Outside his canvas tent, Mr. Omarel—who had not given us permission to call him Devdan—stood in front of an open campfire, heating water in a pot suspended over the flames.
“Another one down,” Sana crowed to her mate.
Mr. Omarel kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll pour you a mug of tea.”
“Boys, would you like tea?” Sana asked.
“We’re good,” Reed said. “Thanks.”
“We’re going to get some shut-eye so we’re fresh for the afternoon,” I added.
Sana nodded and took a seat in front of the fire. Resting in front of the flames with a hot cup of tea looked comforting. Sana’s mate, however, did not. He glowered at us and always appeared frustrated that he had no good reason to ream us out.
“Good job, boys,” Sana said as Reed and I headed for our tent.
At least we’d made headway with one of Zelie’s parents. Reed and I weren’t sure how to win Mr. Omarel over. Maybe Zelie could give us some tips.
Zelie. Stars, I missed her.
Sometimes it felt like a cruel joke to have discovered so much happiness only to put it on pause until some ever-extending date. I felt homesick all the time, but unlike Mr. Omarel’s displeasure with my brother and me proposing to his daughter, I kept it to myself.
Reed unzipped our tent and pulled the flap aside for me to enter. I pulled off my boots first, then climbed inside and crawled over my sleeping bag. I turned on my side and faced Reed as he settled onto his back, hands behind his head, staring up at the low domed nylon ceiling.
“Do you reckon some of those other caves we passed are ogre dwellings?” he asked.
“Who knows?”
“Do you think we could conjure up a blizzard and cover the entire mountain in snow? Bury them all?”
“Doubtful,” I answered. “If they are occupying caves, they’d probably just hibernate like brown bears in the mortal realm.”
Reed frowned. Several minutes of silence passed before he asked, “Are you asleep?”
“No.”
He turned his head my way to confirm, like maybe I’d answered while slumbering. Seeing my eyes open, Reed returned to staring upward. “I miss Zelie,” he said.
I released a deep sigh. “I miss her so much.”
“You know what else I miss?”
“What?” I asked.
“Big breakfasts with bacon, eggs, potatoes, and toast.”
“I miss being on our own schedule,” I said.
“I miss showers with warm water.”
“I miss a bed with a real mattress,” I said wistfully.
“I miss sex.”
“Dude!”
“What? It’s true.”
I grunted before saying, “I do too.”
We were quiet again. I was thinking about all the other things I missed, like my mom and