Page 37 of All the Wandering Light

“If it were my expedition, I wouldn’t travel with a creature like that,” Mingma said. He adjusted the telescope thoughtfully. “Traveling with those who have their own agendas introduces complications.”

I glanced down at Ragtooth. The fox’s familiar eyes glittered in the darkness. His fur was matted and unkempt, and he needed a bath worse than I did. I couldn’t imagine what sort of agenda Mingma thought he had, but I knew some people didn’t trust familiars.

“I doubt that,” I said. “In any case, it isn’t your expedition.”

A sharpness must have entered my voice at that, for Mingma glanced at me. “No,” he agreed, his tone mild. I turned to go.

“Kamzin?”

I paused. In the starlight, Mingma’s hair was the gray of cobwebs.

“Keep an eye out for witches,” he said.

“Oh.” I gave a slight shrug. “The kinnika haven’t made a sound all day.”

“You should stay on your guard,” Mingma said. “When they come upon you, it will be without warning—don’t ever forget that. Take it from someone who’s traveled with them.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “You traveled with them?”

He lifted the telescope, pointing it toward the mountains. “Happy hunting, Kamzin.”

He gave no hint he was aware of the curiosity his casual statement had roused—yet I had the strong suspicion that it was an act, and that, judging by the tightness of his lips, as if he were suppressing a smile, he was fully aware that I was standing there with my mouth open.

Well, I wasn’t going to take whatever bait he was offering me. I wondered briefly what Mingma thought he knew about me, from our brief encounter on Raksha. I headed toward the spring, Ragtooth trailing behind. Once I reached it, I walked along its bank until I was out of sight of the tent. I settled on the ground, crossing my legs.

The spring was like others we had passed—the water was hot, almost scalding, and misted in the chill air. The moisture settled on my cheeks, warming them. The mist undulated over the water like wisps of cloud.

Ragtooth huffed at the water, clearly unimpressed. I let the dragon loose, and it skimmed over the pool, delighting in the feeling of warm mist against its scales. Its light ghosted off the surface.

I drew a deep breath. “Azar-at?” I said quietly.

Yes, Kamzin.

The fire demon stepped forward, as if it had been behind me all along. The creature’s eyes glowed in the darkness, while its smokelike form was a smudge, barely visible.

Ragtooth didn’t start at Azar-at’s presence, as I had—he seemed, for the most part, to ignore the creature, as if Azar-at was beneath his notice. Of course, Ragtooth responded that way to almost everyone.

“I’ve seen River’s thoughts twice now,” I said. “I want to see them again. Can you tell me how?”

The fire demon’s tail swished over the snow. It seemed to consider.

It is a strange connection, Azar-at said. Unexpected. I have never seen it before.

“I’m sure you would have warned me if you had,” I muttered.

There is no “how,” Kamzin. It will happen again, if you wait.

“That isn’t good enough,” I said. “I can’t afford to wait—I need to know where he is. What he’s planning. I need to be a step ahead of him when we reach the Ashes.”

The fire demon gazed at me. I do not control these visions. They are a result, not a deed.

I was becoming impatient. “But surely you know how they work. How I can—I don’t know, turn them on and off?”

I can show you River’s mind, Azar-at said. I can send you into his thoughts, so that they become yours, and you can control the words he speaks, the decisions he makes. I can take his memories, and give them to you, so that it will be as if he has no past, and cannot recognize friend from foe.

A shiver trailed down my back. “No, that’s—that’s not what I’m asking. I want to look into River’s mind. I want to understand what he’s doing. Don’t you see?”

The fire demon’s tail wagged faster. You wish to understand River.