It was already close to noon and Philip’s stomach rumbled as he watched the woodcutter’s path anxiously from the undergrowth. He was carrying a heavy backpack laden with half the goods they had bought from Tom the day before. Penelope had gone off to pick their tools up from Nicholas while Philip had gone straight into the forest at dawn, without bothering to have breakfast. Something that he now regretted as his stomach rumbled.

Penelope had been too inebriated to sense the presence at the time but agreed that they could take no risks. He was to wait here, and once Penelope arrived, they would make their way back to the glade as quickly as they could. He wasn’t masking his presence yet. They would save that for later when they were deep into the forest.

The path itself was completely deserted and Philip felt his tension grow with every passing moment. A dozen thoughts raced through his mind. Was Grace here as a friend or an enemy? Was she even really here? What if she appeared with a hundred soldiers at her back to drag him back to Antere? What about Frederick? Was she following him, or in league with him? Would she be with the Borundian Shadows or whatever they were called? What if…

Philip’s line of thought was broken by the appearance of a hooded figure on the path. He held his breath until he was sure that it was Penelope. She carried a large sack slung over her shoulder in addition to a large pack on her back. She had bought everything they would need to last them until next summer and Philip wondered if it would be safe for either of them to return then.

“Did you sense anything?” Philip asked as he emerged from the undergrowth.

She shook her head, “hopefully it was your imagination,” she said, “but we’ll exercise all caution on our way back all the same.”

Philip nodded. Other concerns could wait. For now, they had to focus on getting back to the glade quickly and without being followed. They set a quick pace down the woodcutter’s path and walked along it until it faded. When it had disappeared altogether, Penelope took a sharp turn to the right, and they soon began crashing through the undergrowth, intentionally making more noise than they needed to.

On a prearranged signal, Penelope broke off silently while Philip continued pretending to blunder his way through the undergrowth and arrived at a low ridge. Upon reaching it, he slowed down and continued on his own for around an hour when he heard a bird call and came to a halt. A few minutes later, Penelope appeared out of the undergrowth to their right and shook her head.

“I don’t think we’re being followed,” she said, looking at the forests “we should be safe for now.”

Philip swallowed and nodded, still not able to shake the feeling that he was being watched. The forests around them had dozens of hiding places, and he imagined hostile eyes in each one. They set a quick pace and moved as silently as they could now. When they did rest, they kept it quick and sharpened their senses as they watched the trees around them.

As one last precaution, Penelope led them to a river. The banks were wide and rocky, offering no cover to any who would attempt to cross. They walked across the ankle deep water, and up the rocky bank into the trees on the other side. Once there, they both focused on hiding their auras and Philip continued ahead with both packs while Penelope stayed just inside the tree line, watching the far bank for pursuers who would have to reveal themselves if they were to cross the river. She would wait half an hour before slipping off into the trees and following after Philip as quickly as she could, catching up quickly due to being unencumbered.

“I think we can breathe a little easier now,” Penelope said, “if we were being followed, we should have lost them by now. There’s no way they could have followed us across the river without being seen.”

Philip swallowed and nodded. Hiding his aura while moving quickly was taking all of his concentration. He was only able to hold it for another hour which Penelope decided would have to be good enough. As dusk turned to night, Penelope continued to lead them unerringly through the darkening forest, their way illuminated only by what little moonlight could penetrate the forest canopy. Roughly an hour after dusk, she decided that they had to rest.

“Well, that was exciting if nothing else,” she panted, as Philip flopped down beside her, “and we’ve made excellent time.”

“I suppose the whole thing might have been my imagination,” Philip said, more to reassure himself. It was only for the briefest of moments, but the sensation of Grace’s aura felt so real.

“We’d better turn in for the night,” Penelope said, “I’m quite looking forward to getting home tomorrow. We do have a lot to do.”

“This little trip has turned into quite the adventure,” Philip remarked.

They drifted off to sleep just before midnight and Penelope had them up and walking before dawn. Soon, the forest became more familiar and Philip’s heart eased somewhat. They returned to the glade just after noon and were greeted by the goats. Upon returning to the cabin, they dropped their things and flopped onto the floor. They were soon fast asleep as their weariness from the journey caught up with them.

When Philip opened his eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. Cursing his weakness, Philip leapt to his feet and looked around, senses tuned for any danger.

Nearby, Penelope stretched and sighed. “Calm down,” she said, “if the assassins did find us, they would have already slit our throats.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Philip replied, rubbing the back of his head as he tried willing himself to relax.

Breakfast was leftover bread, after which they practised Latis at Penelope’s insistence. Philip was once again thoroughly trounced. After they’d unpacked the things they’d bought, a busy day of chores in the fields awaited them. They were only able to return to the cabin after dusk, where once again, they found themselves sprawled out on the floor.

“You know this recent scare has gotten me thinking,” Penelope said, as she heaved herself up to get a fire going.

“Oh?” Philip asked, breaking out the last of the bread they’d brought from town.

“We’ve been too complacent in your training,” Penelope said, as she cut up some smoked meat to go with their bread, “I was planning to start in earnest after we’d finished planting.”

“I suppose sooner is better than later,” Philip allowed. He’d been rattled as well, but still dreaded being forced to conjure fire.

“There is something we can try tomorrow,” Penelope said, “but I would rather have used it as a last resort.”

“I can’t say I like the sound of that,” Philip sighed.

Penelope opened her mouth to elaborate but thought better of it. “Just rest tonight, we’ll get started tomorrow afternoon.”

Philip tossed and turned that night, wondering what torture Penelope had in store for him and was thoroughly exhausted by the time dawn arrived. At Penelope’s behest, the once again practised Latis for an hour after breakfast before continuing their work on expanding the wheat field. By Philip’s estimates, they ought to be done by the next day, having increased its size by a third. Next on the list of chores would be a shelter for the livestock after which they would have to plant wheat for next season.

After lunch, Penelope led Philip to the river. They followed it upstream beyond the step waterfalls until they arrived at a small cave that was part of the rock formations close to the river’s banks.

“After you,” Penelope said, gesturing for Philip to enter.

Philip hesitated at the entrance. It was barely big enough for him to squeeze in. “Are you going to keep me in here until I get over my fear of fire?”

“I might,” Penelope said, and Philip could not tell if she was joking.

Philip gathered his courage and entered. Inside, the cave was dark, and Philip could feel that the stones were smooth as glass, much like the stones Penelope had used her power on. Water dripped down from the ceiling and the walls and into the small stream that trickled past his ankles. As he continued down the cave, the roof grew lower until he had to stoop to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. Soon, it became too low for him to even stoop. He stopped and turned around but could see nothing in the gloom. He felt his panic rise. Surely she hadn’t sealed him in here?

“Keep going,” he heard Penelope say just behind him, and his tension eased somewhat, “you’ll have to crawl for a bit, but it widens out a little further up ahead.”

Swallowing his trepidation, Philip got down on all fours and continued down the cave. Soon, his trousers were thoroughly soaked and blessed the fact that at least the rocks were smooth. He crawled a few more yards when a dull light became visible up ahead. His heart soaring, he began to pick up the pace and soon found himself in a bell shaped chamber which was large enough for the two of them to stand comfortably. A small opening overhead provided a little illumination, and he could see a small fissure to his left which led off to somewhere further into the belly of the earth.

“Good,” Penelope said, looking around, “this place hasn’t changed.”

“What are we going to do?” Philip asked warily.

“You’re going to sit here and meditate,” Penelope replied, “and I am going to build a fire.”

“A fire?” Philip echoed, looking around. There would hardly be space for the two of them and as well as fire in here.

Penelope piled the firewood she had gathered at Philip’s feet. Hesitantly, Philip sat on the smooth rocks. The water streamed past his buttocks and soon, his trousers were thoroughly soaked, leaving him cold and very uncomfortable. She set the pile of wood on fire, and Philip swiftly averted his gaze.

“This fire is your main source of light and warmth,” Penelope said, “and it won’t last long in these conditions without your help.”

Philip raised an eyebrow as his heart began to pound. The fire bathed the chamber in a soft light and cast long shadows that danced on the walls of the chamber.

“Your task is simple, you are to manipulate this fire and keep it going with limited and wet fuel until the sun sets,” Penelope said, “or you’ll be sitting in here in the dark, cold and uncomfortable.”

“I could just increase my body temperature,” Philip pointed out.

“Ah, right,” Penelope said, snapping her fingers, “I devised this training method for my other, considerably less talented pupil who couldn’t regulate his own body temperature for more than ten minutes at a time.”

She paused thoughtfully and sighed. “We’ll just have to use the honour system, eh?”

Philip gave Penelope an unconvinced look before nodding.

“The fire is small for now,” Penelope continued, “focus on getting accustomed to it at first. Try touching it without looking at it.”

Hesitantly, Philip reached out towards the source of the heat without looking. He felt the flow of the fire as his hand touched the flame. He felt its warmth and diverted some of the power from the orb in his chest towards his hands as he tried to manipulate it. In the corner of his eye, he saw the flame flare up and gasped, jerking his hand back.

“Get accustomed to it,” Penelope sighed as she backed away, “try meditating to calm yourself before trying again.”

“You’re leaving?” Philip asked.

“It is a bit cramped here,” Penelope said, “I’ll come get you when it’s time to go back.”

She looked over her shoulder and added, “I expect that fire to still be lit when I get back or I might have you spend the night in here.”

“Right,” Philip said, still not able to tell if she was joking.

Penelope disappeared down the tunnel and Philip could feel her aura get further away and it faded altogether once she left the cave. Completely alone, he took a deep breath to compose himself and closed his eyes. He held his hands out in front of him towards the fire that was beginning to sputter as it exhausted its dry fuel supply and was being forced to burn damp wood.

He tried picturing the fire in his mind but found that he could not. Then, he decided to focus on the abstract nature of the fire. The flow of its energy as it consumed the wood, turning it into heat and light. Keeping his eyes closed and being sure to think of the fire in abstract terms, he tried manipulating the flow. He heard the fire crackle and the heat on his face and hands grow as the fire did.

Elated by his progress, Philip cracked an eye open and caught a glimpse of the orange flame inches from his face. He felt the breath leave his lung as his chest seized up. He broke out in a cold sweat, and scrambled backwards, clawing at the chamber’s smooth stone floor as he tried to put distance between himself and the fire.

Philip felt his back touch the wall of the chamber and he pressed himself flat against it as his heart pounded in his chest. He recovered enough of his wits to tear his gaze from the flame and looked up at the roof of the chamber.

As he struggled to keep his calm, he sensed Penelope’s aura above him. Her aura grew stronger as she tapped her power and sent a jet of flame down through the small opening towards the piled up firewood, setting it ablaze. Philip lowered his gaze to see that the flames had grown considerably.

“What are you doing?” he shouted up at the opening in the roof of the chamber as the fire continued to pour down from the ceiling.

No answer came, and the flames began to fill the cavern. Philip’s heartbeat quickened further, and memories of the night in Rickton and of Gelt’s Pass came flooding into his mind. His breath grew shallow and rapid as he gasped for air. As he felt the panic overwhelm him, he became aware that the orb in his chest was now white hot.

He struggled to contain his emotions and imagine that the orb was icy cold, but the panic at the fire fuelled further by the what the white hot orb in his chest was soon to bring about made it an impossible task. The flames in the chamber grew in size and intensity until it engulfed the entire room and him with it.

The tightness in his chest grew and his heartfelt constricted as it continued to race. A wave of nausea hit him, and he found it difficult to breathe. He felt his consciousness slip, and the last thing he saw as his strength left him altogether was angry red hot flames swirling about the chamber like a stirred hornet’s nest.

When Philip regained consciousness, he found himself looking up at the opening in the roof of the chamber. Stars were visible through the sliver of sky that was visible. He had been unconscious for the entire afternoon.

“It’s about time you woke up.”

Philip jumped as he heard Penelope’s voice. The chamber was pitch black, but he felt her aura on the other side of the small chamber.

“How long was I out for?” he asked.

The orb in his chest was cold now, its energy spent, and Philip felt a chill run through him. He rubbed his arms with his hands and became aware that he was once again naked.

“Long enough,” Penelope replied, “how do you feel?”

“Cold,” Philip replied.

“Your energy is spent, and I am curious how you’d react if confronted with fire now,” Penelope began. Philip felt the bile rise in his throat.

“But I suppose you’ve been through enough today,” Penelope conceded, “let’s go home and discuss what happened today.”

“Sounds good to me,” Philip said, going slack with relief.

“Follow my voice,” Penelope said, “I don’t want to risk a fire in here.”

“No argument here,” Philip said.

“I feel bad about what I did,” Penelope said as they crawled out of the cave, “I should have been more patient.”

“It’s alright, no harm done,” Philip replied, not knowing what else to say. Truth be told, he was anxious to get over his fear of fire too.

The alternative seemed to be either death by Penelope’s hand or living the rest of his life out here. Life in the glade was peaceful enough, but every now and then, he felt the yearning to share a drink with friends in a cosy tavern. It was enough to drive a man crazy, having no one to talk to but an old lady and three goats.

This must have been how Lewis felt, Philip thought to himself as he crawled out of the cave. He smiled at his friend’s memory and then immediately felt sad once again.

He followed Penelope out of the cave and they soon emerged into the night air. He took a few deep breaths and sighed.

“I’m afraid I’ll need another set of clothes,” he said sheepishly.

Penelope tossed him a cloak and studied him under the starlight. “Any injuries?”

Philip shook his head and sighed inwardly at the fact that he thought nothing of his naked body being scrutinised by the older woman.

“Only mental, I think,” he said.

They returned to the darkened cabin and Penelope started a fire. Philip found that he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as it. They decided he and Penelope would exchange rooms that night and he drank a concoction of flowers steeped in hot water that Penelope brewed for him. The drink calmed him and warmed him up but what he really craved was a meal. There was no food ready, and Philip decided that he’d rather sleep than wait for Penelope to cook something.

His sleep that night was plagued by nightmares of fire and death, and he woke up drenched in sweat, just before dawn.

“There’s a fire going out here,” Penelope warned as Philip got out of her bed.

Philip considered his options. He walked into the main room and tried to keep the fire in his periphery. He felt his stomach turn as he heard the flame crackle and ran out of the cabin.

“How are you feeling?” Penelope asked as Philip stood bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to calm himself.

“I’ll get better, I think,” Philip allowed, “but what I really want is something to eat.”

“The food is almost ready,” Penelope said.

Breakfast was bacon, fried eggs, and boiled potatoes. They ate it outside basking under the morning sun. After breakfast, Penelope insisted on a few bouts of Latis.

“Do you think you can help finish up in the field today, or do you need a rest?” Penelope asked as Philip was left panting on the ground. He was still feeling weak from the day before and was beaten more than usual.

“I could have done with a break from the beatings,” Philip replied once he’d caught his breath.

“Nonsense,” Penelope said, “practising Latis harmonises the soul. Or so I’ve been told.”

With some effort, Philip lifted his head so he could look at Penelope. “I’m as frustrated as you are about yesterday but it seems a little harsh that I have to take a beating for it.”

Penelope smiled wryly. “I have to admit, your issue has even the great Penelope the Red at a loss as to what to do.”

“You’ll think of something,” Philip said, half mockingly, “I believe in you.”

Penelope laughed out loud. “You don’t have to be snide. Have you forgotten that I’m the one helping you?”

Philip groaned as he rolled over and got to his feet slowly. “We might as well get started on the field then.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Penelope ventured, watching him with a concerned look, “you can take the day off if you’re still not feeling well.”

“If nothing else, it’ll get my mind off things,” Philip sighed, “and we do need to finish that quickly so we can get started on the livestock shelter. I don’t want to spend winter sleeping with the goats.”

They finished expanding the field just as dusk was setting in and retired to the cabin, happy with their achievement. Penelope insisted on preparing dinner alone and sent Philip outside to practice his meditation.

He sat on the grass just outside and faced the mountains to the south. He watched them for a moment before closing his eyes and clearing his thoughts. He shut out the bleating of the goats nearby and focused on his breathing and the warm glowing orb in his chest. Time went by, and feeling restless, he decided to imagine a fire. His pulse quickened as he imagined the flame of a candle, but he persevered. As he felt sweat bead around his forehead, he decided not to push his luck and opened his eyes.

His heart was still pounding, and his face was sheened with sweat, but he felt satisfied with the little progress he had made.

“Best not to push your luck,” he told himself, “the last thing you want to do is burn the cabin down.”

“You’re being pragmatic, not cowardly,” he added as he stood up.

He returned to the cabin to find the supper bubbling in a pot over the fire. It pleased him that he was able to be in the same room as fire again, even if he couldn’t look directly at it. It was about the small victories, as Penelope put it.

“I’d say that’s an improvement,” Penelope remarked as Philip sat on the floor with his back against the wall, “perhaps baby steps are the way to go.”

“Perhaps,” Philip allowed, allowing his hope to soar a little.

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time to practice once the planting is done,” Penelope smiled, “you might regret hurrying out of town. I’m the only other person you’re going to see for the next nine months.”

“I don’t know how you survived like this out here for twenty years,” Philip remarked, “I’ve caught myself talking to the goats a few times already.”

Penelope laughed. “Remember what I said when you first came here? I won’t judge.”

Philip smiled ruefully. After supper, he and Penelope chatted about what needed to be done the next day. Then, he meditated for another hour before turning in for the night.

They fell into a routine over the next few days; they practised Latis after breakfast before busying themselves with chores around the glade. They had more time to themselves once the field was planted and Philip took the opportunity to explore the surrounding forests. He would often set off in a random direction until he found a peaceful spot where he would practice his meditation. He found this way of life peaceful and always looked forward to catching up with Penelope when he returned to the cabin in the evening.

Philip looked at the small shelter and couldn’t help but feel proud. It was just tall enough for him to be able to walk in hunched over and was protected from the elements by a slanted roof. It had taken him and Penelope the better part of the last week to complete, and they had just finished scattering straw on the floor for bedding.

“What do you think of your new home?” he asked the goats who looked at it, unimpressed.

“Well, get them in,” Penelope said, “might as well get them used to it.”

“Go on then,” Philip said to the goats who stared back at him impassively.

Penelope sighed and smacked each of the goats on the rump. Obediently, they filed into the shelter.

“Ingrates,” Philip said as he closed and latched the door.

“Well, I think we can be proud of what we’ve done today,” Penelope said, stepping back to admire the shelter, “the roof could use a little more work, but that can wait.”

They walked back to the cabin together, admiring the wheat field as they walked past. “I can’t believe we got so much done in the short time we’ve been back,” Penelope sighed.

“It helps to have a strapping young man around,” Philip boasted, flexing an arm.

Penelope smiled and ruffled his hair. “That it does,” she said, “and it’s nice to have someone to talk to who isn’t a goat.”

Penelope returned to the cabin while Philip decided he wanted to walk in the glade while it was still light out. Soon, he saw a plume of smoke rise from the cabin and knew Penelope was warming supper up. The sun was slowly sinking under the forests to the west and Philip wondered absently if there were people looking for him in that direction. He quickly dismissed the thought from his mind. He had often watched the forests in dread over the last few days and asked himself the same, but it had been over a week since they returned from Wood Edge and there were still no signs of them having been followed here.

Sensing that the food was ready, Philip turned around and headed back to the cabin. He paused outside to wash his hands and feet before entering to find Penelope ladling soup into a pair of bowls.

“I think we can try conjuring fire again tomorrow,” Penelope said, as they sat down for supper.

Philip looked at her from across the fire, able to keep the flames just out of his line of sight. The wisps of smoke and occasional crackle from the fire didn’t cause his heart to stir anymore. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“We’ll go to the river and give it a try,” Penelope said, “we won’t be going to the cave again, don’t worry.”

Philip nodded and tried to quell his growing unease. He had been making good progress with his phobia thanks to his meditation, and he feared that tomorrow’s exercise could undo all his hard work.

“Will we practice Latis in the morning?” Philip asked, wanting to change the subject.

A smile crossed Penelope’s face as she looked up from the bowl of potato soup. “That’s the plan, why?”

“I think I might actually land a hit on you tomorrow,” Philip grinned.

He had come close that morning, and Penelope quickly called a halt to the day’s practice saying they needed to save their strength to finish off the shelter for the livestock.

“Pride cometh before the fall,” Penelope laughed, “but I’m not sure you should be so happy at the prospect of landing a hit on an old lady.”

“I’ll take the little victories,” Philip shrugged.

“You can take them when you’ve won them,” Penelope retorted.

They chatted for a while before turning in for the night, but Philip found sleep elusive. The fear of having to conjure fire still gnawed at him, and he found his himself fretting over a dozen other things. Kicking the blanket they’d bought from town off, he got to his feet and walked outside. He looked at the trees in the moonlight as they swayed in the breeze. Insects chirped, and in the distance, a wolf howled.

“Good thing we’ve finished the shelter,” he said out loud, “those wolves won’t be eating our goats this winter.”

That attempt at distracting himself failed and so he decided to calm his thoughts by meditating. He sat in the open doorway and closed his eyes. He emptied his thoughts and focused inwards, on the orb in his chest. His pulse began to quicken as the orb stirred. He didn’t know why at first, and then his blood froze. Out in the distance, beyond the glade, he felt an aura. It was at a much greater distance than he could usually sense auras but there was no doubting it this time. Grace was here.