When the alarm on Grace's watch woke her at six thirty, it was to the sight of ice on the inside of the tent and her breath misting in front of her. She had slept in all her clothes except for her coat, which she had scrabbled over the top of her sleeping-bag at some time during the short night's sleep, but she was still stiff with cold.

She pressed the snooze button, and huddled there with her eyes closed, delaying the time when she would have to leave the relative warmth of her sleeping-bag, but quickly found the need to empty her bladder stronger than the desire to stay where she was. With a sigh, she sat up and extricated herself.

She was noisily unzipping the tent when she saw movement outside, and froze. The light was a dim pre-dawn blue, and her eyes strained to make out the pale moving shape. It was close to the edge of her circle and moving in little fits and starts, and the movement reminded her of a dog sniffing out a scent, and the thought was terrifying. Could it find her? Was it a creature that would be able to resist her protections and attack?

Her sleepy mind started frantically hunting for what she could remember of the book, reaching for memories of something that might be able to get to her. A constructed creature – could one of those burst through her spells? She glanced out at the circle in the snow, which glimmered only faintly now. She couldn't even remember how long the protective circle would last.

And then a flood of warm, yellow light shone out against the snow, and Grace's fear vanished, to be replaced by wonder. It was its mouth, she realised. As the creature opened its jaws, it was letting out light and warmth and melting the snow in front of it.

She had seen a picture of this creature. A tiny winged horse, or something like a horse, which could warm the snow in winter to get to its food. But to see it here, in front of her, was as dizzyingly strange and wonderful as it had been to stare up at the travelling winds.

Slowly, Grace unzipped the tent the rest of the way and stood, uncertain whether it would hear her moving within the circle. But it was feeding now, the light from its mouth a flicker of yellow brightness against the snow as it nuzzled into the hole it had made. She stepped slowly up the slope of the little hollow until she was only a foot away, and could make out its sleek white fur and small, folded wings. Its snout was shorter than a horses, and it gave the thing such a cartoonish look that it was impossible not to smile.

The tiny horse finished feeding and closed its mouth, then wandered a little way away and began snuffling at the snow again. She was suddenly seized by a desire to touch it, to confirm that it was real, and so, tentatively, she stepped outside the circle and gently towards it.

The creature lifted its head to look at her once she was a few steps away, and she stopped where she was. Its large eyes gleamed at her in the half light, and then, instead of running, it came towards her.

Grace crouched in front of it, seeing its stocky little body clearly now. She held out her hand, hardly breathing as it closed the gap between them. It pressed its nose into her palm, and it was a soft, gorgeous, but absolutely real feeling. She ran her hand down its back, her fingers sinking into the soft white fur, and it lifted its head and half-closed its eyes in the way her Aunt Frances' cat would do when stroked.

Crouched like that, she wasn't ready for the voice behind her.

"They'll make friends with anyone. Hardly surprising there are only a few of them left."

She tried to spin round and stand up at once, and ended up with one leg awkwardly out to her side and the other one twisted under her as she searched wildly for the speaker.

He was indistinct in the dimness, his clothing all browns and greys and whites so that he seemed to be a part of the black and white landscape. Even his skin was a tanned brown, and only his hair, blond and unruly, marked him out from the background.

He was looking at the animal instead of at her. He took two steps past and crouched down too, his hand extended, until the little horse came over to him. It rubbed itself up against his arm, and he ruffled the fur beneath its wings.

Grace's shock gradually subsided as she watched the creature stretch its wings out in enjoyment. He made no move to look at her, or to attack her, and as she watched at him more closely, she saw that he was only a little older than she was. Sixteen or seventeen, at a guess, and no older. It was only the sure way he moved that had made him seem to be a fully-grown man at first.

"What's it called?" She asked, after a few moments of building her courage, though her voice still came out in a whisper.

"He's a chimri," he told her, and glanced over at her, his face unreadable. His voice was gentle, though, and had a trace of accent, as the fortune-teller's had. "A creature designed to survive the cold, but unfortunately less able to survive fur hunters and cold creatures."

Grace searched her memory of the book. "Like vash and those... the ones with no skin."

"Caverines?" He nodded. "They like to prey on chimris. An easy feed."

The chimri settled its wings again, and then trotted back to where it had been snuffling, and opened its mouth. Grace watched the snow melt away, until there were a few damp leaves and stems visible. Then it put its head down and began to eat.

The boy stood, watching the chimri again, but she could feel his attention on her.

"I take it you aren't a citizen of the kingdom."

"I – no." Grace realised that she should have come here prepared with a story. It had only been a matter of time before she met a local, and how could she explain where she really came from?

"It's worth taking care if you're going to cast spells," he told her, looking at her again briefly before he flicked his gaze away. "If you don't want to be hunted, do it where nobody can see."

Grace felt herself blushing. "You were watching me? Last night?"

He shrugged. "There wasn't a lot else going on in this neck of the woods. I watched until I was sure you were staying, and then I left until morning."

She fixed her eyes on the chimri, overwhelmingly glad that she hadn't gone to relieve her bladder whilst he'd been out there watching. But with that thought, the need to go became quite urgent. She looked behind her, towards the other side of the camp and the sparse cover provided by the bare trees.

"I'll let you strike camp alone, if you want," he said, as if he had known what she was thinking. When she looked back at him, he was watching her steadily with the sort of focus that usually made her feel uncomfortable. But she didn't feel awkward, perhaps because he was a stranger from another world, or perhaps because he seemed to be looking at her without any kind of judgement at all. "But if you need advice or guidance, I can return once you're ready."

Grace was torn between the knowledge of time pressing at her, and a rush of relief at having someone to talk to about all this. She hadn't realised until now how sorely she was missing Mr. Fredrickson's commentary.

But aside from that, he could save her time, if he told her which way to travel and what she should avoid. A nervous feeling in her stomach told her that he might even save her life. All of this assuming that she could trust him.

She nodded, in the end. "I could use a little help," she said.

He gave her a brief smile, and it was extraordinary how much it changed his closed-off features, warming them and lighting up his eyes. "I think we all could."

He turned and said, over his shoulder, "I'll see you shortly, then-"

"Grace," she called after him, and heard her name float back towards her on the cold air as he tried it out.

She was all packed up and had eaten a packet spaghetti in sauce, heated on her gas-fired stove, a little over half an hour later. She had started in on the spaghetti, burning her tongue in her haste, before remembering her shaker full of salt and one of Dad's many lectures on wilderness survival.

If you're going to be exerting yourself all day, then you'll be sweating, and that means you need salt. All that stuff you're not supposed to eat in normal life can save your legs from cramping up and your body from becoming exhausted. And if it gets bad enough, low salt makes you confused, dizzy and disorientated.

Grace pulled the shaker out and sprinkled a very little into the spaghetti, thinking wryly that she was in enough danger of disorientation as it was without adding that into the mix. The sun emerged over the horizon as she was stuffing the last of her snow-rinsed food items into the bottom section of her bag, and even the little warmth of dawn sunlight was welcome on her cheeks.

She stood basking in it, and saw that the chimri had left, presumably to find more food. It made her feel a little sad to lose the companionship of the creature in that great empty world.

She checked her watch, wondering how far the boy had gone and whether he would be back soon. And then it occurred to her to wonder whether it was the same time here as it was back at home, or whether it was a little earlier or later. She couldn't quite remember what time the sun had come up back in High Peaks and had little way of judging. And then she started wondering what time of year it was here, too, and whether they even used the same days of the week and months.

Fortunately, she caught sight of the boy returning before the sense of all that she didn't know became overwhelming. She squinted into the sun as she watched him tread quickly and quietly through the snow, and she decided that she was going to ask about where he came from and how he came to be here before anything else. She could see no sign of enchantments or spells of concealment on him, even with the stone pressing into her leg, but Mr. Fredrickson's warnings to her sounded in her ears.

Don't trust too easily, and don't tell too easily either. They live in fear of their queen, and people who are afraid will save themselves before anything else.

He came to stand in front of her, glancing over her pack, and then he nodded.

"You're travelling north-east?"

Grace thought of those words of Mr. Fredrickson's, and hesitated, but there was no point in hiding it. He could follow her and find out if he wanted to.

"Yes."

He squinted slightly at her, his face thoughtful. "You're going to Kryzna?"

He pronounced the word as if it were "krij-na" and Grace tried to remember that for later use.

"Yes, I am."

"To the tower?"

He was watching her intently now, waiting for her reply as if it had a great significance to it. The awkwardness that Grace hadn't felt before rushed in on her, and her doubts grew. Why was he so interested in this? Did he guess what she wanted to do?

"I don't know," she said, a little lamely. "Maybe."

He went on watching her, piercingly, and Grace found herself growing a little irritated. "Why don't you tell me your name, and where you appeared from," she said, "before asking me anything else."

His fierce gaze dissolved in a grin of amusement, and he nodded. "That sounds fair. But I think we should walk whilst talking, don't you?"

Grace nodded, grudgingly, and they began to trek through the snow.

"My name is Afi," he told her, while he paced easily just ahead of her. "I saw you arrive and I followed you to your camp. Like I told you, there wasn't a great deal else going on last night."

"What were you doing in the woods at midnight?" she asked him, her words broken up by her rapid breathing as she tried to keep up.

"Hunting," he told her. "Or, more accurately, checking my traps."

Grace glanced around at empty, glittering landscape.  She hadn't seen a single living creature except the chimri, and the open snowfield beyond the wood was absolutely empty. "Is there much to hunt out here?"

"You'd be surprised," he answered. "Snow minxes, winter birds, mattins..."

"Chimris?"

Afi gave her a sidelong look. "I've never been that desperate for a meal. And I always imagine some kind of divine retribution coming down for anyone who touches something that defenceless."

Grace smiled in spite of herself. She hated to admit to being as soft-hearted as Maggie, but the boy would have gone down in her estimation fairly immediately if he'd been willing to eat one of those beautiful things. Perhaps it was wrong to want to protect something just because it was pretty, but she didn't like to think of harm coming to the good-natured chimri.

The thought of Maggie made her wonder further about Afi, who seemed very much alone and as if he didn't mind it. "Do you have a family?"

"Mmm," he said, noncommittally, pausing for a moment to put his hand over his eyes and peer ahead. They were at the edge of the wood now, and the open snow ahead of them was glaringly bright with the low sun reflecting off it.

Grace stopped with him, glad of a moment to catch her breath. She was red-cheeked and warm already. Glancing at Afi, she slid her pack off and then took off her coat. She tied it around her waist, aware that she probably looked a little foolish, but the jacket was plenty warm enough whilst she stumbled up the gradual slope at Afi's pace.

"Do you live nearby?"

"A couple of miles west, a little way from a farming village." He was still scanning, and then seemed satisfied and started to move again.

Grace picked up her pack, and hurried after it as she settled it on her shoulders again.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Not for anything in particular," he said, still walking on quickly while his eyes moved around restlessly. "But it's two and a half miles between here and the stand of trees on the hill. That's a long time to be out in the open."

Grace squinted ahead, uneasily, thinking of the vash, which the book told her nobody had ever seen. They surrounded themselves in poisonous clouds of fog which stripped leaves from the trees and killed any creature which spent more than a few minutes within it. But they seemed mismatched against the gently sloping field of snow ahead of them. This was a Christmas card scene as far as Grace was concerned.

"I think you've had enough questions now," Afi said, while Grace was still trying to make out any shapes against the glaring white. "I'd like to ask a couple."

"Like what?"

"Where you learned the magic, for one thing."

"Just – from a book," she replied, hoping he wouldn't realise that it was something she had on her. It only struck her then, for the first time, that he might be a magic-worker himself. Was that why he was hiding out here?

            "Can you...?" she asked, and he looked at her, startled, and then laughed.

            "No, thank goodness."

            "Why 'thank goodness?'" she demanded, a little irritated with him again.

            "Because if I could, I would have been snatched away to the tower by now," he said, and shook his head slightly. "Don't you know that much?"

            "I know about that," Grace replied quickly. "I know the queen takes riezehn boys and uses them for her magics, and I know that any girls with a reasonable amount of power will vanish."

            "Then aren't you afraid of going there?"

Afi watched her again, with the intensity back in his gaze. He was anxious to know about this, about what Grace knew of the tower, and despite her doubts, she almost instinctively found herself telling him more just to stop him from looking at her like that. Or just possibly so that he kept on doing it. She didn't really know.

"I don't want to be captured, but having some kind of magic at least means I have a chance. And in spite of the bad reason for it happening, finding out I'm not powerless is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He was still watching her, but after a moment, he sighed, and began his scanning of the horizon again.

"Is it your younger brother? Is that why you're going?"

Grace felt her cheeks grow warmer. She should have been better prepared to lie. Was she that transparent? To the first person she had stumbled across here?

Wretchedly, knowing it was too late to deny it, she nodded.

"And you think you can storm into the castle?" he asked. "You think you can rescue him from the most magically protected place in the kingdom?"

"I have to," she said flatly.

"Do you want to know how many people have tried?" Grace was surprised and a little hurt to realise that he was angry with her. "This has been happening for hundreds of years. And you stroll in from the otherlands and think you can just walk off with your brother, as if everything we've all suffered for centuries means nothing. And you don't know a thing about this place."

"I have a book," she said, her cheeks burning now.

"And what's that compared to a lifetime spent living here?" he asked, rounding on her. "You're going to get yourself killed, and it won't help your brother."

"Then maybe I just need a guide," Grace countered.

"So you can get me killed too?" he asked. "I shouldn't even – I should have let you wander off on your own."

"Well now's your chance," she shouted back, more surprised at her own anger than she was at his. She never shouted, never argued. But the rules were different here, and getting Benjamin back meant so much more than everything else. There was no time for shy Grace who did everything she could to avoid conflict, to avoid being noticed.

He stopped in his tracks, and she marched past him, trying to display a dignity which she didn't feel when every third or fourth step she stumbled. She gritted her teeth and promised herself that she wouldn't look back. She'd wasted too much time and energy talking to him already. She should have been reading the book while she walked instead, or consulting the map.

"Wait," she heard him call, and then there were approaching, crunching steps in the slow as he jogged up to her with what she felt was insulting ease. She ignored him, and kept walking. She felt his hand on her arm. "At least let me show you the best route to travel."

Grace kept on walking for a few steps, and then sighed and stopped. She slid her pack off and pulled out The Dazzling Lights, then opened it to the page with the map on. Afi took it gently, his anger all evaporated. His finger traced a path ahead, towards the hills, and then East for a short way along a valley.

"Up here you'll meet a river, a small tributary of the Great Water. If you follow it East for two miles, you'll find a bridge. Cross there, and then stay on the road. You may be able to hitch a ride with a farmer, but you'll have to duck out of the way of any palace soldiers."

As his finger approached the city, a purple line sprang up along the path it had travelled, marking the map with a route between the glowing point which marked her location now, and Kryzna.

Afi gave a slight sigh. "Magic-workers," he said, and handed the book back to her.

"Thank you," Grace said, finding the words difficult to say. She was angry with him for abandoning her so quickly, and it didn't take her long to realise that it was Ma she was really angry with. After all, why should this huntsman from the wild leave his family and travel with her? What reason had he to help her? None, where Ma had every reason and had still left her to go alone.

"I'm sorry I can't help you," he told her, almost sounding as if he meant it. "But I think you're making a mistake."

"No you don't," Grace replied, tucking the book into the pocket of her jacket. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you were trying not to let yourself hope I might do it," she answered, and turned away from him.

She was within a mile of the top of the hill when one of her frequent scans of the empty snowfields showed her something strange. Little areas of patchy mist seemed to have sprung up behind her, but tiny ones, only a few feet high and wide.

Grace wished she knew more about the weather here, as she did so much else. She tried not to wish that Afi had stayed with her for a while longer. Instead, she pulled the book out again to re-examine the map. If a fog was going to spring up, she wanted to be ready for it.

But as she opened the map and began to look for herself, blazing lines appeared in a vivid red across the whole of it, and she almost dropped the book in shock before she saw that the lines made up letters. With a rush of pure terror, she read what they had spelled out:

RUN.