Legacies (Mercedes Lackey) - By Mercedes Lackey Page 0,77
had been a depressing forewarning of how cold winter here in Montana was going to get.
But it meant that once she bundled up and stepped outside with Burke, Spirit wasn’t cold at all.
The walkway lights were on, illuminating the snow falling from the sky. It was light—almost like dust—but it had been falling steadily for several days, and the ground was white as far as Spirit could see. She was used to heavy snow in Indiana, of course, but not to it starting this early—or to being out in the middle of nowhere when it did. The snow muffled even the ordinary sounds she expected to hear, making everything seem even more than ordinarily silent. Even without moonlight, the lamplight and the light from the house windows scattered across the snowfield and reflected back from the low clouds, illuminating the featureless whiteness for miles.
“Winter’s when most of the Elemental Schools—not mine—get a real workout,” Burke said as they walked across the terrace. “Come on. You’ll see.”
The terrace was completely clear of snow, and the brick walkways were wide dark lines crisscrossing the whiteness beyond. Spirit followed Burke cautiously down the fieldstone steps onto the bricks, but there wasn’t a trace of ice. Just as the Air Mages swept away the autumn leaves, they swept away the snow.
“Too cold?” Burke asked, when Spirit shivered.
“No,” she answered. “It’s just . . . I don’t think I’m cut out for all this . . . sneaking and plotting.” She kept her voice carefully low, even though they seemed to be the only ones going for an evening walk.
“I hate it,” Burke said. Spirit glanced at him in surprise. It was the first time she’d ever heard him say anything so negative. “I hate lying. I hate going to bed at night knowing I’m keeping secrets from Doctor Ambrosius. I hate thinking I’m planning to do bad things to someone—even if they might be bad and might even deserve it. I don’t . . . I don’t want to be that guy, Spirit.”
Impulsively, she put her hand on his arm. Her heavy mitten made a pillowy plopping sound, and she saw him smile a little ruefully. “At least we’re warm, right? And just wait until there’s a few more feet of snow. Then we can really have fun.”
“A few more . . . feet?” Spirit asked in disbelief.
“Sure,” Burke said. “Average snowfall over the winter here’s about sixty inches. We get enough snow on the ground, and the Fire Mages and the Ice Mages’ll have enough to work with to build us a great skating rink. Block of ice about a foot thick and as big as the football field. It’s great. If you don’t skate, I can teach you.”
“It’s been a while,” Spirit said. Winters in Indiana were cold, but they weren’t that cold.
Burke smiled at her. “I know what you mean. This makes Indianapolis feel downright balmy.” He sighed. “I sure miss Thirty Days in May.”
Spirit blinked, more homesick than she would have thought at hearing the local nickname for the Indianapolis 500. “Don’t tell me you’re a racing fan?” she said.
“Oh heck yeah,” Burke said. “My folks’ house is right on the Speedway. They rent the lawn, the driveway, and the backyard out every year for people to camp in. It was always a great way to make new friends.”
Spirit thought it probably was. She thought Burke had probably never met anyone in his whole life he hadn’t liked.
“Here we are,” he said. “Look.”
He pointed off to the side of the path. Spirit turned to look—and gasped in wonder.
The snowfield was filled with sculptures. Clear as crystal, delicate as gossamer, abstract designs whose closest resemblance was to those high-speed photographs where the photographer manages to capture the exact moment when a drop of water shatters against the ground. They glittered in the lamplight as if they were on fire.
“Ice and Air and Fire Mages having some fun out here,” Burke said. He sounded pleased at her reaction. “They won’t be here by morning—wind’ll shatter ’em, they’re so delicate. See? Over there? Some of them are already broken.” He pointed, and when Spirit looked closely, she could see broken shards of ice lying on the surface of the snow. “I wanted you to see them, though.”
“I’m glad,” Spirit said simply.
They turned to walk back toward the school, and Spirit was surprised to see how far they’d come.