WinterMaejic by Terie Garrison

furs. Grey dumped his bundle on the kitchen table, then set about making tea, all the while maddeningly saying nothing.
    When we’d settled in front of the hearth, Grey in a chair and me on the bearskin rug with the alphabet cloth next to me, both of us blowing on steaming mugs of herb tea, Grey finally spoke.
    “I didn’t say anything before because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get the horse, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
    I raised my eyebrows in question.
    “Well, you know, to go find your people. Get you back to someone who can take care of you properly.”
    My jaw dropped. It was as if he’d read my mind. But how, I thought yet again with a frown, would I ever find Xyla and Yallick and everyone? And how many of them were left? Were any of them?
    Grey misinterpreted my frown. “Donavah, we have to go, and we have to go now. It’s already late enough in the season that we’ll be lucky to get where we’re going without any trouble from the weather.”
    I shook my head again. He set his mug on the ground, knelt in front of me, and gripped my upper arms in his strong hands. “We must. And we’ll manage. Trust me.”
    He was right. And I wanted to go. The only problem was the significant fact that I didn’t know where to go. Still, going would be better than staying. I smiled at Grey and nodded.
    He sat back in his chair, breathing out a sigh of relief. That took the edge off my smile. Was he really that anxious of be rid of me? Well, if that were the case, all the more reason to get going.
    “So, where?” he asked.
    And with scarcely a twinge of guilt, I simply spelled out, “mountains.”
    “All right, east. I know the land well between here and the foothills. We’ll start in the morning.” We both sipped our tea simultaneously. The end of another almost completely one-sided conversation.
    After supper, Grey suggested that I turn in early. The journey was going to be tiring for me, he said, even though I’d be riding Hallin. He wrapped my hands in poultices as usual, and I could smell a new ingredient that he’d not used before and that I couldn’t identify. I wondered what it was, but before long, I fell asleep.
    Grey awoke me well before dawn. While I ate a bowl of very sweet, very hot porridge and drank my tea, Grey went outside and nailed a heavy piece of lumber over the glass window.
    Next to the door sat several full packs: a backpack for Grey and what must be saddlebags for Hallin.
    The hammering stopped and a moment later, Grey came in.
    “Are you just about ready?”
    I smiled wryly as I nodded; after all, what exactly would keep me from being prepared to go at a moment’s notice? I’d arrived empty-handed, and empty-handed I would leave.
    Grey finished readying the house for our departure. He threw the furs from my sleeping pallet over the back of the chairs to let them air, then he washed the breakfast things and shoved my cup and bowl into one of the saddlebags. Finally, he dumped water onto the fire to make sure it was out. Then he wrapped me up in my cloak, another of his cloaks, and a fresh fur, which he secured around my shoulders with a metal clip. He stuck a floppy felt hat on his head and a bearskin one on mine.
    A few minutes later, I found myself astride Hallin, with Grey fastening the packs to the saddle. The horse stamped impatiently while Grey nailed the door to the house shut. His nonchalant air suggested that he was accustomed to shutting up his house this securely. He hoisted his pack, and soon we were on our way.
    Holding Hallin’s reins, Grey started down a track that led roughly east away from his house. Chase ran off ahead, dashing back to us every few minutes as if to make sure we were still coming.
    “You crazy dog,” Grey called after him one time. “You know you only end up covering twice as much ground as I do this way.” I laughed, silently of course. He looked up at me. “He’s always like this, but once we start home with me riding Hallin,