A Song of Snow and Ashes

and went and the brothers were in the kitchen washing dishes when an overweight, ruddy-faced balding man in his forties joined them.

  "Alright, boys, you can go early tonight," he announced cheerfully, but it was clear he wasn't sincere.

  They exchanged confused glances.

  "Thank you, sir. But why?" asked Alain.

  "It's the solstice, of course. The clerics are holding a ceremony at sundown. I wouldn't think of keeping you here."

  "Afraid we'll rob the till," thought Donnan.

  "However, you'll need to come in an hour early tomorrow. This mess won't clean itself up."

  "You're too kind, sir," replied Alain, without a trace of sarcasm in his voice. The two put away their dishrags and aprons, stacked the dishes neatly, left some to soak overnight, and then left the tavern. "Well, wasn't that nice of Darris?"

  "He must have finally gotten in trouble from the clerics for keepin' us from services," Donnan answered dryly.

  "Maybe. But who cares? This is great. We get the night off."

  "You think it's great we have to sit through that borin' ceremony?"

  Alain sighed. "It's not that bad. Aolani will be there," he said, his voice teasing.

  Donnan punched him in the arm. "You're such a jackass," he replied, but his voice was affectionate rather than insulting. The two walked to their tiny apartment. All the buildings were made of wood, and most were built right next to each other. In the downtown and commercial areas, the paved streets were wide enough to allow carts to easily pass each other. In the wealthier residential areas and older parts of the city, the packed dirt streets narrowed down to the width of one cart. And in the poorest sections, the roads were barely wide enough for a horse, let alone a cart.

  The brothers' apartment was about half an hour's walk away from the tavern, and in the poorest section of the town. The one-story, square building took up an entire block, with twice as many dwellings as a block full of houses would allow. Their apartment was one of the tiniest. It had only two rooms, and they had to share the building's communal water room. The water room was in the center of the building, had three wells from which they drew water, and had a partitioned off area for bathing and laundry. They shared the tiny bedroom. The only furniture was a bunk bed. Instead of a proper closet they had a simple bar hung up across one wall. Weapons and boots were simply left under the clothes rack. The other room had a tiny wood-burning stove, barely enough counter space to prepare food or set down a tub for washing dishes, and pantry shelf space on one side. On the other side were a tattered carpet, three mismatched chairs, a worn, low table, and a small wooden crate filled with books. They changed into nicer clothes and walked to the Temple of Light in the center of town.

  By the time they got there, the temple proper was already full.

  "Great. Standin' room only," muttered Donnan.

  "Well, look on the bright side," Alain said cheerfully. "It's cooler out here than in the temple."

  He nodded in agreement.

  The crown continued to gather until the sun started to set. A bell rang out from the temple, silencing the crowd. The ceremony was performed by two clerics, a priest inside the temple, and a priestess outside. It was about an hour long and involved praises to the Light One and prayers for guidance as the light started to wane. It was completely dark by the time it was finished, but a full moon was staring to rise. A vigorous wind had come up, a sure sign of an approaching storm. The crowd started to break up and filter back through the city streets.

  "That was better than washin' dishes," commented Alain, as they passed people busily lighting up the downtown area street lamps.

  "It was borin'."

  "That too."

  They weren't too far away when a group of men hailed them. Alain greeted them warmly. "Hey Donnan, the guys are headin' down to the Wooden Tankard to play some pockets and some cards. Want to come?" Some of Alain's friends looked a little disappointed.

  "It's nice to offer, but no thanks," he replied, noticing their looks.

  "Suit yourself." He then walked away with the young men, laughing and chatting.

  Donnan sighed. "Well, he's going to be fun to deal with in the mornin'," he thought as he started to walk home. The crowd was thinning and he wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings when he suddenly heard a female voice cry out in surprise, and he noticed a number of papers blowing toward him.

  "Catch them, please," called the same voice.

  He crouched down and grabbed them before they blew past him and got trampled.

  "Thank you," said the woman, kneeling down next to him.

  He caught a whiff of lavender perfume when he looked up and found himself staring to a pair of light brown eyes.

  The woman called Aolani took the papers from him. "Thank you so much. The wind came up at just the wrong moment. It would be just awful if I lost my lesson plans."

  "No problem," he managed to stutter. Even in his surprised state, he noticed how much better her diction sounded as opposed to his own.

  She smiled at him. It lit up her whole face and made her look lovelier. She shoved the papers into the book she was still carrying.

  He stood up and offered his hand to her.

  She took it, allowed him to help her stand, and then pulled away politely. "Thank you again. I'm sorry if I bothered you."

  "No. No bother at all," he replied, looking a bit stunned.

  She smiled again with relief. "Well, good night. Happy solstice," she said cheerfully, then turned and walked away.

  "Happy solstice," he returned.

  She joined a group of three men and two women her age. One of the men shot Donnan a dark look, put his arm around her waist, and they disappeared into the crowd.

  He glared at them until they were out of sight, and then sighed. "Beautiful, nice, smart, and no taste in men. She could do better. She deserves better. But I'm just a dishwasher. I can't compete with the son of the Guard Commander," he thought bitterly as he continued his walk home. The wind picked up and the clouds poured in. "I'm not talented enough to be a mage, not strong enough to be a guard, not high enough class to be a cleric, and not rich enough to do anything else."

  By the time he reached the apartment, thunder had started to roll. He lit a lamp, closed the storm shutters, and opened a well-worn book on the history of the era of Mage Rule. He read until he dozed off.

  He looked around, feeling confused. "How in the world did I get here?" he thought, staring at the landscape. He was on a flat spot on a nearby mountain and above the tree line, surrounded by nothing but rocks and several inches of snow. The wind was picking up and it was bitter cold. His summer clothes were far too thin. "I've got to get home. I'll freeze to death," he thought, shivering and panicked. He had barely started picking his way down the steep slope when he heard a low rumble. He looked up the mountain and saw a sheet of snow hanging treacherously on a cliff not two hundred feet above him. "Oh, darkness." The rumbling continued and he watched as the sheet detached and started to slide quickly toward him. He scrambled downward desperately looking for a cave or an outcropping, anything he could use to shelter himself from the avalanche. With a deafening roar, the force of the snow knocked him over and darkness closed in.

  "No!" he yelped, waking up. He looked around, breathing hard. The book had slipped to the floor. Thunder rolled outside and the wind howled at the shutters. When he re-oriented himself, he returned the book to the crate with trembling hands, and then went to bed.

  He was awakened a few hours later by a persistent knocking on the door. He groggily headed toward the living room. "Forgot how to use the keys again," he thought irritably. He opened the door and Alain stumbled in, completely drunk and soaking wet.

  "You know-you know-youknowit'srainin'. Out. Outside," he mumbled.

  "Honestly. You're goin' to catch cold." He tended to his brother, getting him changed and helping him to the lower bed.
Soon he heard the reassuring snoring, and allowed himself to go back to sleep.

  Eliora woke up the next morning feeling much better. She helped make breakfast, walked the twins to their school, and went to work. To make up for her mistake the day before, she completed all of her assignments on time, and caught up on some transcribing she had been putting off. She was at her tiny desk when she heard a knock at the main office door.

  "Come in," she called.

  A pretty young woman of about her age entered the office. She was dressed in the same style, but her robes were of a little better quality and she was also wearing a heavy cloak. "Eliora, are you still working?"

  "Of course, Ofira. Should I not be?"

  "You were supposed to meet me at the conservatory half an hour ago. It's dark out already."

  "I'm sorry." She quickly organized the last of the papers.

  "Why are you working late anyway?"

  "I almost got written up yesterday, so I figured I'd better make up for it."

  "Alright. I forgive you for being late. But couldn't you have sent someone around to tell me?" Ofira asked.

  "I forgot."

  "Again? Well, I can't say I'm surprised. But don't worry about it. Just hurry up. We're already late."

  Eliora pulled on her own cloak, picked up her bag, and gently shuffled Ofira out of the office so she could lock up. "There was something else I was supposed to do today."

  "Well, what?"

  She paused. "I don't remember. I guess it wasn't important anyway. So where are we going