When Lucian awoke, the fire had burned out and the wind was howling even more fiercely. Lucian stoked the fire, throwing on more of the lichen while streaming Thermal Magic to get the blaze going again. He coughed at the sulfurous stench.

  Lucian cracked the door, only to see snow blowing sideways in the darkness. Even if that weather was cold beyond cold, nature called. He made it a few steps into the storm to relieve himself before rushing back inside. He used the rest of his water to make another soup, setting the pot over the fire this time to conserve his magic. As it cooked, his stomach growled at the savory aroma.

  He took the pot off the flame and set it on the stone table. In the cold air, it cooled rather fast. It was bland with no spices, but the warmth and sustenance were welcome. If this blizzard went on for days, he might run out of food. He needed to be out there, seeking resources. Instead, he was stuck in here until it blew over.

  What he wanted most was a hot bath. Between the passage here, the long walk inland, and the reek of the fire, he was at his most disgusting.

  Hours passed, then days, and the blizzard still blew. On the second day, he ventured outside during a lull in the storm, scraping as much lichen as he could with his spear, having to use Thermal Magic to melt the thick snowdrifts. He made it back inside right before the storm returned with cold fury. Lucian passed the days by reaching for his Focus, practicing isolating his Aspects while studying his survival guide.

  If the Academy no longer trained him, then he would have to train himself.

  Every day, he picked a new Aspect to concentrate on. It was only when he reached Gravitonics, on the sixth day, that the howling wind died down enough for him to open the door.

  A snowdrift as high as his head tumbled inside. Despite the height of the snow, the temperature was warmer than during the storm. The air smelled clean and odorless.

  He wondered how he’d ever find anything buried under this snow. Unless the shuttle came soon, he would die in this valley. He needed snowshoes, but there was nothing with which to make them. And even if there were, the instructions in his survival guide were a bit confusing.

  That was when he spied a column of smoke to the west, beyond the rim of the valley. Was that smoke natural, or was there someone else on this island?

  Another person could mean food. Then again, it could also mean conflict. Lucian looked at his chimney. A thick column of smoke curled upward into the bright blue sky.

  Well, they would know about him, too. Either he could go investigate, or they would investigate him. If it turned out they were dangerous, he always had his magic. Then again, assuming they were exiled mages, they would have magic, too. And they might be frayed.

  Could it be Katya? Lucian couldn’t imagine who else it might be. If she were still alive after all this time, without a shuttle coming to get her, then maybe his odds weren’t so bad, either.

  He returned to his hovel, shut the door, and warmed himself by the fire. After a couple of minutes, he had made his decision. He put the collapsed shockspear in his parka pocket. These last seven days hadn’t been easy. Not in the least. But with the breaking of the storm and the blue sky, Lucian found a small kernel of hope.

  His spear was a weapon and a tool now, not an instrument of self-harm. The fact that there was another person here, or even people, changed everything. He couldn’t wait any longer. The weather might not hold up, and his food reserves were getting low.

  Lucian didn’t see how it was possible to cross the deep snow. It was taller than he was, but he couldn’t stay in this valley forever. He had to explore the island and find enough resources to survive. And that included finding other survivors.

  He filled his backpack with everything he’d unpacked. He made a fresh canteen of water from snowmelt and made sure every drop of soup was eaten. He fed the last of the lichen to the fire, relishing the intense warmth.

  As warm as his clothing was, it wouldn’t hold up for many hours in this cold, especially once darkness fell, which would be soon. He wasn’t sure how cold it was, but probably at least five or ten degrees below zero. At some point, it became impossible to tell. It was just damn cold.

  He drew a deep breath and went back outside. A landscape of deep snow stood before him, so deep that only the upper halves of the cabins were visible. Getting out of this valley wouldn’t be easy, but it would be necessary.

  And he would need magic to do it.

  He extended his hands and streamed Thermal Magic. The snow in front of him melted instantly, collapsing into a thick puddle of slurry. It sloshed in his direction up to his ankles. Any more of that, and his boots would have been completely soaked, waterproofing or not. Besides, blasting the snow with heat would consume far too much ether. His pool was limited, and it needed to last long enough to get out of this valley, even to defend himself if it came to that.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  It was a tall order, but an order he had to ensure. Outside the valley, the snow would probably be less deep. He might even be able to walk without using magic.

  This was real life, not the controlled setting of a Trial. If he made the wrong choice, he could die.

  He thought about how to proceed. He could stream antigrav discs and attempt to walk above the snow. But the distance was much farther than his Trial on the beach. He was almost sure to run out of ether before reaching the top of the valley. Nor could he use Binding to pull himself across the valley. The amount of ether required by a Binding tether was a function of both distance and mass. Since the distance to the valley’s crest was far, and his mass was far greater than anything he’d ever bound, he would run out of ether in seconds. And blasting the snow with Thermalism was a no-go, for the same reasons as binding himself.

  But then an idea came to him—an idea so ambitious that it scared him. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was his only choice. Perhaps Binding himself was impossible, but what if he could bind something with little to no mass?

  He’d read about a technique in the library called “dualstreaming.” It was possible to combine the streams of two different Aspects if they were complements—that was if they either bordered each other on the Septagon or were two spaces apart. It meant he could combine an antigrav disc with a binding tether. A gravity disc itself had no mass other than the energy used to produce it, which was far less mass than him. All to say, Lucian might be able to connect a binding tether to an antigrav disc, setting the focal point for the ridge above, and then ride the disc to the top. This would allow him to skim above the snow, assuming he could stay on the disc. The binding output would only be costly in terms of distance, not mass.

  Theoretically, it should work, but dualstreams were an advanced technique not taught to Novices. It would burn through his ether reserves like crazy. Dualstreams used quadruple the ether of a single stream, making them highly impractical in most situations. He’d even read about tristreams that used nine times the ether, but it was thought to be impossible for a mage to tristream without overdrawing, so the technique was forbidden at the Volsung Academy. At least, according to the book he’d read.

  Theoretically, with Binding and Gravitonics being complements, Lucian could float across the valley quickly enough to make it to the rim before his ether ran dry. Assuming, of course, dualstreaming was less costly on his ether than binding himself directly.

  He saw no other way to go about it, so he decided this was the way to go about it.

  Using the rough stones of the hovel’s wall, Lucian climbed to the roof until he stood above the deep snow. The unbroken white covered the entire valley, about half a meter below where he stood.

  He began by streaming an antigrav disc right above the surface of the snow. He made no deviation, remembering how slowing the speed of the stream during the Gravitonics Trial had doubled his gravity. To set the stream, he only had to maintain a thin flow of magic. The silvery disc floated above the snow, just a step away. He couldn’t wait long; his ether was burning.

  He stepped onto the disc and was pleased to find it held. While maintaining the Gravitonic stream, he reached for the Binding Aspect. As soon as he did so, he began burning ether at an alarming rate, so much that he shook with the effort. Brimming with magic, he directed the new stream at the antigrav disc, anchoring it. It connected with a burst of bluish-gray light; the streams were now fused.

  He streamed a Binding focal point on a distant boulder at the top of the western rise. Once both points were set, anchor and focal, he held it, the binding line brimming with energy. The longer he held it, the more his magic infused into the line. And the more magic there was, the faster he would go.

  Kneeling, he held the tether as long as he could. Then, he let it go.

  He almost fell off the disc as it glided smoothly above the surface of the snow, following the glowing blue binding line. It was working well.

  Almost too well.

  “Whoa!”

  As the disc picked up speed, the wind roared past his face. He couldn’t help but let out a whoop, even as his ether burned away. If he ran out before reaching the rise, he would crash through the snow. Both of his hands glowed with silvery-blue radiance. As long as he maintained both streams at this incredible burn rate, he had a shot at making it to the top.

  He knelt on the disc, his heart racing, and almost lost the focal point several times as his Focus slipped. The longer he went, the harder the streams were to hold. He deepened his Focus, streamed more ether, and fed each stream the necessary magic to be maintained. The disc flew along as if reeled by a fishing rod.

  As the antigrav disc flickered below him, he felt himself sinking. He restreamed the disc, solidifying it, but the speed of the binding line slowed as the focal point began to fade. He restreamed that, closing his eyes to maintain his concentration.

  He was over halfway now, and almost completely out of ether. The dualstream was beginning to sputter. But he was so close. He didn’t want to overdraw, but he might have to. There was always the risk this overdraw might be his last before the fraying gained a foothold.

  But he had good reason to overdraw. It might be his only way to not be stranded in the snow, something that could lead to his death. But nothing was more dangerous than temptation armed with a justification. He had to learn to get by without overdrawing, as difficult as that would be.

  He had known the risks before he started. Now, he had to see this through the right way.

  Now most of the way to the western slope, both streams winked out. He crashed through into the snow, finding solid ground about a meter below. Just a meter. As he had suspected, the snow was thinner up here and would be passable.

  He got up and brushed himself off. He was lucky. He’d escape with nothing more than a few bruises.

  Lucian stood and waded the rest of the way out of the valley.