Patreon or PayPal Me keeps this site and its author alive. Thank you. |
Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 88: Slade 280
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Cooper 101
Shella and Slade chatted as the mammoths finished the grass in the area. The herd moved on, and Slade noted to himself absently that it was the afternoon as the sun had moved across the sky. He said as much, and Shella’s agreed. There was something there.
Oh.
If the sun rose in the direction from which the mammoths had come, and set in the direction toward which they had left (although they were not wholly out of sight yet) then the first was east, and the second west. If he faced with his left hand to the east, and right to the west, then his nose was pointed south. In this very cold world, south sounded wonderful.
He explained as much to Shella, and she agreed, adding that hopefully that was the way it worked in this world. Grunting, he agreed. As far as he was aware, all the worlds he had been to were balls--but he was not sure that was always going to be true. They gathered up what they had, and started walking.
Slade broke the snow, which at first was around two feet deep. Going over a mild ridge, they dipped into a shallow valley where the snow rose to three and a half feet. But it was powdery. Shella trudged behind him, and the miles went onward under their feet with the chilling constant air beaten back in some small way by their exercise. Sudden gusts brought chills, and in the wide white plain beyond the first shallow valley, slicing bits of ice were flung into their faces.
It was bitterly cold.
The white almost featureless plain stretched beyond his sight, and three hours had passed before the wind picked up further and turned their bright white field of snow into a blizzard. Slade stopped. Shella paused behind him looking exhausted.
“Can you muster the strength for a comfort bubble?”
She nodded firmly. Shella began to do the magic, and the first time it failed.
“I’m tired. It's hard to get it exactly right.” She tried again, and this time they were suddenly surrounded by pleasant temperatures which kept out the snow. However, after several tries, she was unable to magic up food, but they rested as the snow melted off their clothes. In the middle of the night they were reawakened by the need for Shella to recast her comfort bubble--but this disturbance did have a bright side because in the light that she also called before the comfort bubble they saw that a family of white probably Arctic mice had climbed up out of a hole in the snow to join them in the comfort bubble. The changes and movements of the humans startled them, but they quickly came back.
They awoke again when the sun hit them, and Slade estimated that it was around ten in the morning. Shella spoke to him about needing better protection against the cold, and so they went through their gear. Slade had a bedroll, multiple pairs of socks, a heavy cape, and a t-shirt in addition to the jeans, leather boots, flannel shirt, leather armor, jacket, and tool belt he already wore. Shella had her riding outfit, cloak/jacket, fancy robe for night clothes, slippers, a good quilt comforter, and a better robe in addition to the robe and laced boots she wore.
Slade stripped his jacket, chest armor, and flannel shirt off, or as he said ‘giving the girl a show’, and donned the t-shirt before reversing his actions to put everything back on. He took off his boots and added two more pairs of socks to the one he already wore. Helping Shella, he had her strip which he enjoyed, and put on the night clothes, then regular robe, and the dress robe. The riding outfit did not work so well with the robes so it went back into her bag. The last of Slade’s socks went over her socks, and then her laced boots.
Next Slade wrapped the bedroll about his shoulders, and Shella wrapped the quilt around hers. This was awkward, and Shella held up a delicate hand.
“M’lord, I wish to try something.”
“What?”
“I want to see whether I can use my packing spell, which seals the bag in which I keep my belongings, to seal our blankets around us.”
“I see.”
“It could end up sticking our hands to the blankets, but since the seal breaks as soon as I touch it, it might not work at all.”
Slade nodded, and got himself ready with the blanket joined by his left, non-sword hand, in front of him. Shella focused, took a deep breath, and began to speak. She made one single decisive point at the the end at the blanket, and suddenly she smiled like the sun rising. “I think it worked,” she said. He dropped his hand and the blanket hung on him, with both sides stuck together in front of him by a patch of frost which bonded them. He touched the frost on the front, and it felt a lot harder than ordinary frost.
“You might be able to make armor out of this frostlock?”
“Maybe?”
A quick kiss later and a second casting on her own quilt, and the two stepped out of the comfort bubble and began their trek across the white plain in the direction that they hoped was south, and they further hoped led to warmth.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #531: Versers Roam. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
