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in white. It looked
beautiful for the first few moments, until I remembered that we
would have to walk through it; then it lost its charm. Jarik leaned
against the rocky wall, sighed, and suggested we wait to see if the
sun would come out and melt it away.
    “Only if you care to
wait all winter, which I certainly do not,” I grumbled, seated at
the mouth of the crevasse. Our words had that softened, muffled
sound that always comes from speaking whilst surrounded by
snow.
    “We can still make it
to Endren. I still know my way, and we have enough food that even
if we aren’t lucky enough to get another rabbit, we shall not
starve. But I am concerned for you,” he said.
    “I’ll be fine. It’s
just snow,” I replied.
    “I know, but your boots
look so thin. Do they remain dry inside?”
    “No, of course not.
Why, do yours?”
    “Well, yes,” he said.
“That’s the point of good boots, to keep your feet dry and
warm.”
    “I suppose I’ve never
had good boots.”
    “You shall have some
when we return. I shall see to it,” he said, kicking aside the snow
that had drifted at the entrance to our shelter.
    “I need no reward,
Jarik. I—”
    “You were only doing
your duty. I know. You keep saying that. Well, I consider it my
duty to ensure that you at the very least are properly outfitted
before you leave the palace. That is, if …” He paused, then
stammered, kicking idly again at the snow, “That is, if you want to
leave.”
    I wasn’t sure what he
meant. Was he offering me work at the palace? I dared not hope for
it and certainly dared not ask. I chose to say nothing rather than
risk saying something absurd.
    He turned to me,
seeming to expect a response. When none was forthcoming he
continued awkwardly, which was quite different from his usual
elegance. “Because, you know, there is no one who would make you
leave. Not after what you did for me. And the Prince. The Prince,
of course, you saved his life. He, well, he’s unlikely to forget
that. In fact, I can assure you with certainty that he won’t. And
he’ll definitely want to reward you whether you want it or
not.”
    Again he looked at me
as if expecting a response, and again I was afraid to say anything
lest I should appear presumptuous.
    “Well, regardless of
that, that’s days off and we should start moving, if you think
you’re able.”
    I nodded, because truly
I was saying yes to his seeming offer of employment.
    “But your boots. Aenna,
the snow will melt under your feet and make them wet. You’ll catch
your death of cold. We have to do something about them.”
    I looked thoughtfully
at the thin, cloth boots. The leather soles were almost worn
through and had already been patched from the summer. I looked back
at Jarik and confessed that I didn’t know what to do.
    He stared at my feet in
thought for a few minutes and then looked to the pile of gear
beside him. He bent to the pile and set about putting the contents
from two of the smaller bags into one of the larger ones. One of
the smaller bags was really a large leather pouch with a thin
leather cord to close it. The other was made of heavy burlap. He
knelt beside me in the confined space and slipped the leather pouch
over my foot. It fit, albeit awkwardly, and he arranged it so its
bottom corner was over my large toe. He asked how that felt, and I
stammered, “I suppose it’s fine, but—”
    He held up a hand to
silence my rebuttal. He took the pouch off my foot and removed its
tie cord. He cut the cord in half with a knife and rethreaded half
of it in the pouch’s holes. Then he placed it back over my boot and
tied the small cord around my ankle. There was barely enough of the
cord to make a knot, but he managed to do so, and asked if it was
too tight. I shook my head, and he immediately set about putting
the burlap sack over my other foot, and threading the remaining
piece of cord through the burlap’s weave to tie it similarly.
    He bade me stand and
walk, so I did feeling