The night fell heavily over the three travelers, but Aysel wasn't awake to see it. As soon as the sun began to dip over the rugged horizon, she started to get drowsy, and the rhythm of Dunyasha's steps across the snowy ground began to seem like a lullabye.

"You're tired," Dunyasha noticed after Aysel yawned for a fifth time. "You should rest."

"I'm not so tired," she replied, suppressing another yawn.

Dunyasha smirked, then sniffed loudly. "Smells like you're lying."

Aysel rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Never," Dunyasha said. "But you are tired, so rest."

"What, while you're walking?" she asked.

"I won't let you fall. Rest, at least for a while."

Sleep beckoned. Aysel looped her hands into the soft, short hair running down Dunyasha's neck and closed her eyes. She was asleep in minutes, and dreamed of bars of herb-scented soap.

The sound of voices woke her. They were hushed and muffled by the sound of mountain wind, and she would have gone back to sleep if she hadn't heard her name.

"... Aysel why we're here?" Dunyasha was asking. Aysel's drowsiness faded away at once, replaced by curiosity. She kept her eyes closed, her breathing steady, and her ears open.

There was the sound of shifting fabric as Enrick shrugged. "I did. She wanted to know where we were going, so I told her."

"You were never one to reveal information so easily," Dunyasha growled. "For example, you didn't tell me where we were going. If I had known we were going to see Ystervo..."

"That was intentional, dear cousin. If I had told you from the start, would you have come?"

Aysel felt Dunyasha's body tense, but she sighed, and the tension released. "I don't know. Probably. As much as I hate to see him, I hate being in your debt more."

"Ah, he isn't so bad." Again, his voice slipped almost imperceivably into reverence.

Dunyasha's, however, held none. "Why do you protect him?" she growled. "He left me nearly alone in a position of power I was still growing into. He should have seen I was never meant to lead, even if I could read the smoke. He abandoned me."

"You abandoned me," Enrick said. "In case you forget. You abandoned all of us. And look what that led to: Ondrey dead, along with so many others. You could have stopped that, but you didn't. You ran away. You left me the burden of leadership when I didn't want it and couldn't hold it." His voice was calm, as if he was reasoning something out with a child. "This is your fault. I killed my little brother with my mistakes, but it's your fault."

Dunyasha was silent. At last, she said, "After this, if you ever see me again, we won't speak of what I've done."

"That's the deal," Enrick said smoothly. "Though you should be grateful, Dunya. Your life and Aysel's risked for the forty that died that day? It's a bargain."

A breath hissed out through her nose. "Once this is done, I don't want her harmed, Enrick. Not at all."

"You think so low of me, Dunya?" he asked, sounding injured. "This journey has changed me as well as you. I learned that not all Letters are evil, Aysel learned that we aren't monsters, and you learned that you like stubborn Letter girls with curves like a-- oh relax, she's asleep," he laughed as Dunyasha sputtered. "Besides, a deal is a deal. After we make the delivery, Aysel will rejoin her family and friends."

"What exactly are we delivering?" she asked.

Enrick snickered. "I'm afraid I'm slipping back into my habit of not revealing things easily, my sweet Dunyasha. Besides, I think it's time for someone to wake up. Good morning, Aysel."

"Hmm?" Aysel asked, feigning sleepiness. She hoped that her years of practice pretending not to have been awake, whispering and giggling with Elkin for half the night, would save her now. She opened her eyes to a dark, cloudy sky. "It's not morning." She blinked her eyes a few more times, then clung onto Dunyasha as tight as she could, petrified. "Why are we in the sky?" she asked in a strangled voice.

Indeed, it seemed as if they were standing on nothingness. Far below them the rocky ground stretched, streaked with patches of snow.

Dunyasha chuckled softly. "I've got you. I told you, I won't let you fall. Look harder."

Aysel peered below them, even though doing so made her head feel as though it had just been hit by the butt of a spear, and noticed that directly beneath Dunyasha's body was a strip of rock, so high and thin it looked as though someone had taken a small slice of a mountain. The edge looked as sharp as a blade, yet Dunyasha's odd feet and hands gripped it easily and apparently without pain.

"It's the entrance to where my father and his followers have taken refuge," said Enrick, perched as gracefully as a bird on the sheer strip of rock behind them. "We'll be there soon. But hold on, the winds here cut like knives."

He was right. The wind was blowing viciously against the face of the mountains, and once driven upwards, seemed to cut through the many layers Aysel wore as if they didn't exist at all. It tore at her clothes and bit at the wet spots in her nose and her eyes.

"Put your face down on me," Dunyasha shouted over the winds. "You'll be warmer that way."

She hesitated for a moment, but the next gust forced her to reconsider. Aysel nuzzled her face into Dunyasha's soft hair. It tickled her cheeks pleasantly and was blessedly warm after the burningly cold mountain air. It was all she could do to stop herself from rubbing her face up and down against it, because it was smoother than a martin's and twice as thick.

And then it hit her-- this was the last time she'd be able to feel Dunyasha's soft, warm hair that smelled like the forest floor after a summer rain. The thought tore at her heart, and she buried herself deeper, as if she could escape reality in Dunyasha's mane. After Enrick delivered the powders to his father, Dunyasha would be free of her debt to him, and she would leave. She would leave Aysel behind, and she would never figure out what twisting path her accursed heart was taking or get another chance to feel the way she had in the baths.

She needed to say something. Her mind was on her brother, but now was her last chance to say how she felt.

She raised her head from the haven of Dunyasha's hair and yelled over the roaring of the wind, "Dunyasha, I--"

The sound of the wind cut off as abruptly as a door being shut. Then came Enrick's quiet voice: "We're here."

Aysel opened her eyes, and saw nothing. The sudden darkness frightened her a bit, and she instinctively pressed herself closer against Dunyasha. "Where are we?" she asked.

"My father's cave. Come. He's been waiting for us." There was the sound of footsteps as Enrick walked off into the dark.

Dunyasha shifted beneath her. "Aysel, could you do me a favor?"

"Yes?"

"Could you get off my back?"

The words hit her like a tiny blow. "Okay," she said, sliding off. The ground was cold and smooth against her one shoeless foot.

"It's not because of you," Dunyasha quickly explained. She took Aysel's hand and started leading her forward in the darkness. Aysel followed blindly, trusting completely. "It's just that Ystervo hates Letters. It wouldn't be wise for either of us if it were to seem we were... close."

They were close? What did that mean? In the dark, Aysel's mind ran through the possibilities. But it was another thought that made her wrinkle her brow and say, "He hates Letters?"

"Hates them. But don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

"If he hates Letters so much, why is he making something to stop us without harming us?"

"What?"

"The powders that Enrick is bringing. They're for a mixture to take away Letter magic without harming us. To help his father in the battles against them."

"But that... that makes no sense," Dunyasha said, her voice pensive and confused. "Why would he--"

The dark was broken by a flare of brilliant light. Aysel threw the hand that wasn't nestled in Dunyasha's up to shield her eyes. Squinting, she could see it was Enrick, standing in front of a towering carved stone doorway. In the chamber beyond, a fire blazed.

"He's ready to see us," Enrick said.

Dunyasha dropped her hand and turned to Aysel. "I don't want you to be frightened of Uncle," she said.

"I'm not." Why would she be frightened of a man who just wanted to protect his people?

The flickering light of the fire transformed Dunyasha's yellow eyes to liquid gold. "Perhaps you should be. But don't worry." She reached out and quickly grasped Aysel's hand once more. "I'll let no harm come to you."

And with that, they walked inside.

It was more a cave than a chamber, but it was a grand cave. In the middle, a fire blazed, fed by scraps of mountain lichens. The floor was carpeted with rich, warm furs: low elg, snow wolf, wolfbear. Against one wall of the cave was a mountain of rope and bags, some with powders spilling from them, and against the other wall, sitting on a chair draped in a wolfbear pelt, was a man who could only be Enrick's father.

Ystervo's face was as narrow and sharp as his son's, but with none of its softening curves, and while his wide mouth was identical, it lacked the half-mocking smile Aysel had become so accustomed to. There was a trace of Dunyasha in him too, in the way his nose jutted up before angling down again. His eyes were as yellow as his son's and his niece's, but they were as cold as the mountain wind outside. As he fixed his eyes on her, suddenly Aysel realized why she should be afraid of him. She fought the desire to bow, like Enrick, who was kneeling submissively at his father's feet.

"Dunyasha," he said, rising from his chair. His voice was lilting and arrogant as Enrick's but deeper, as if there was real power to back it up. "It's been many years since I saw you last."

The People flanking the man gripped their spears tighter as Dunyasha stepped forward, but it was only to bow. She sunk to one knee and said in a tense voice. "Uncle. I see you're doing quite well."

He sneered. "Ha! Quite well... would we be forced to hide in this miserable hole if we were doing well? No... but that will all change. Enrick, the powders," he said, snapping his clawed fingers at his son.

Enrick looked up at Aysel. "Aysel?"

Realizing this was her cue, she produced them from her pack. There were ten in all, each smaller than an apple. She looked at them with hatred and with hope. These were the things that had hurt her brother and her people, yet by giving them to the man who had done it, she would save them.

She placed the packets in his outstretched hands. "I hope this can lead to peace between our peoples," she said.

Ystervo smiled down at her, baring his sharp teeth. "I'm sure it will."

Aysel felt something was wrong before anything happened. Perhaps it was the way he smiled, or the edge of malice in his voice. Maybe she had known it all along. Whatever the reason, though, she wasn't surprised when the People on either side of her lowered their spears and charged towards her.

"Aysel!" Dunyasha screamed in warning, but she was ready.

There was no fear in her as she lifted her blade and brought it arching down towards her arm, but there was confusion as several of the spearmen grabbed ropes and started tossing them to each other. For a moment it looked like a celebration, like children dancing with colorful strips of cloth to celebrate the arrival of spring or a successful elg hunt.

But she had no time to wonder what they were doing. She brought her blade down.

Her blood flowed out as normal, rising into the air like smoke, but before she could shape it, something punched into her stomach and knocked the wind out of her. Her blood splashed to the ground.

She looked down at the thing that had hit her; it was one of the thick ropes, pulled by two People on either side. She pushed it off of her, but they were already running around, encircling her. She tried to step out, but as soon as she lifted her leg they jerked the rope, knocking her other foot out from under her and sending her crashing to the floor. She split her chin on the hard stone and cried out, but there was no time to worry about pain as moments later, another rope was wrapped around her neck and she was being pulled backwards and upwards.

"Aysel! Aysel!" she heard Dunyasha and Enrick calling, but it was all she could do to keep from being choked. She had managed to get her fingers beneath the rope but now they were wrapping it tighter and tighter, crushing her fingers against her windpipe.

Another jerk of the rope and she was on the ground again, flat on her back, hands trapped around her own throat. She tried to stand or at least kick out but a third rope was looped around her feet. She tried to direct her blood but was stopped by a spear end to the stomach, making her cry out as much as she could through a strangled throat.

"Aysel!" Dunyasha screamed again.

"Silence." Ystervo stood from his throne. "Dunyasha, Enrick, stop fighting. You're making fools of yourself. And you, Letter," he said, looking down at her as if she was a pile of refuse. "If you continue to struggle we'll continue to hurt you."

"Don't touch her!" Dunyasha spat. Aysel twisted her head just enough to see that she was surrounded by four spearmen, each with their weapon poised over her heart. Enrick, too, was guarded, but he cowered against the wall rather than standing proudly as Dunyasha did. "Don't you dare hurt her," she snarled, and her voice was as sharp and deadly as a wolf's teeth.

He fixed her with a look of utmost disdain. "You were always too soft for your own good. Even when you were in command, you were too weak to realize that your attitude of mercy towards these things that destroy our homes and butcher our children does nothing but hurt your own people."

"You're wrong," Dunyasha snapped back. "It's a path towards peace."

"Peace... like the peace found in the attack that killed my wife, whom I had left behind under your protection? Your own parents? So many, many others that you had tricked into believing Letters would ever stop killing us?"

"Stop," Dunyasha said, but her voice was shaking. "Don't talk about that."

But Ystervo continued. "It was your weakness that caused you to abandon the survivors and leave them at the hands of my eldest, whom you know could not shoulder that burden. Your weakness not to fight alongside your cousins that led to my precious Ondrey dyingm." And now his voice shook too, with anger and deep pain, the same pain Aysel heard in her parents' voices when they spoke of Elkin.

"Stop!" Dunyasha shouted. "I came on this stupid journey to pay my debts. My life and Aysel's, though I had no right to hers, for the lives I had lost. It's done."

"That was the deal I made with her, father," Enrick said, more meekly than Aysel had ever seen. "Two lives in exchange for so many may seem cheap, but it was the only way of helping you."

He examined the sachets of powders in his hands. "You've helped me more than you realize. Dunyasha, your debt will be paid in full, death for death."

Enrick held up his hands. "Father! Please, you can't kill them!"

"Not them. Those accursed Letters that have caused me to lose so many I loved." His eyes blazed steely gold in the firelight. "All it will take is a few breaths."

Now it was Aysel's turn to snarl. "If you think taking away our magic will make us easy targets, you're wrong. We'll fight with whatever we have until the last drop of blood leaves our veins."

He chuckled, and the low sound was so similar to Dunyasha's, yet stripped of all music. It pierced her heart like a shard of ice "Take away your magic?" he drawled. "Who said anything about that?"

"You did, father," said Enrick earnestly. "To fight the Letters attacking you. Force them to stop."

"Oh, yes, I did tell you that," he mused. "I figured it would be easier for you to stomach, even before you let your cousin's mad ideas about Letters being anything more than scum got forced into your head." He held out the powder for all to see. "This doesn't take away your accursed blood magic. Once it's properly mixed with the other ingredients, it creates a poison so potent that just a breath of it can kill a Letter."

"No!" Aysel screamed. "You're going to kill the Letters here? If you just talk to them, they'll realize you're not monsters, just as I did! There's no need to kill anyone!"

"Oh, not just the ones that kill my companions when we venture out to hunt," he said to her. "No, that's nowhere near enough." He raised his arms wide. "I have enough here to kill all Letters, everywhere, wipe them off the face of this land like the stain they are."

Ystervo leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear, "And you, my dear, helped me do it."