Off Center (The Lament) (7 page)

Bard
Sollen might not even be able to finish school, if he didn't heal fast enough, or
work hard enough while he did it. What would he do if that happened? Go back to
his family? They lived in a city and had a store, so maybe that was the case, but
if it happened, it would be her doing. No matter how she tried to spin it around,
all the angles came back to her.

Thinking
that also reminded her that she owed the school a statue. One of the founder, Michael
Morse. The man had been a bit beefy, but not enough that his statue could take a
several story fall and not break. Since she didn't have the deep purse of the government
to fund it, she needed to get some stone working tools and materials for it if she
could. Her best bet would be to make it near an air shipping center, and send it
along to them. Maybe she could do it from Morseburg? It was where she was headed
and it was centrally located for the entire continent, which had to mean that ships
like The Lament came and went with decent frequency, didn't it?

Mara
grunted at her, seeing that she was already loading a fifty foot coil, as if they
might be going mountain climbing or something. It wasn't a thick rope, and she didn't
know what might come up. After the last thing, well, having everything she could
just made sense now. In the end she had an extra bag packed, filled with signed
out bits of almost everything. She would have taken more, but Mara was laughing
at her.

"It's
only an overnight trip. Being prepared is good, but weighed down, not so much so.
Well, as long as
you
carry it all, who am I to complain?" It was said
blandly, but Pran didn't rise to the bait.

All
she did was put on several layers of clothing while they were inside and dry, then
wrapped an oil cloth around her shoulders and pinned it into place, tying it around
her middle, so the wind wouldn't take it as easily. Mara, for all her training,
didn't bother doing that, just hoisting her own bag and walking out.

Pran
rolled her eyes, and struggled to carry all the stuff she had, then dashed, if a
slow plod could be called that, to pick up her truncheon and air rifle from her
room and to make certain her instruments were put away at the same time. It took
a while and Mara snapped at her for it, when she got outside.

"Cutting
it a bit close, aren't you? The rope crews are already out here. I really don't
love rain. Have I ever mentioned that? Especially in the wind."

Pran
didn't know what they were supposed to do really, but Mara led the way, finding
a natural dip in the woods that had a hollow log already in place over it. The whole
thing was on a hill too, which meant that they might not be in the path of a flood.

"It
doesn't look like a seasonal stream bed at least." Mara assured her, setting
up layers of branches that she cut from the trees. Everything was wet already, one
way or the other, and they were working in the near dark already. Pran just started
copying the other woman, having no clue what was going on. It sped things up, but
meant she got yelled at anyway.

"No,
damn it Pran,
I'm
on shelter. Go collect the wood for the fire! You brought
matches, I saw you get them. You can do that part. Hide the gear under the main
beam here. That's the log." She didn't mutter anything about stupid Bards at
least. Not where Pran could hear her.

It
was hard to find enough wood, but she knew how to get it, turning over logs herself
and searching under brush for the small things. That would be needed to get it going.
Then they had to have larger stuff. She kept hurrying to bring in arm loads of things,
but knew it wasn't enough yet. Feeling a bit panicked, since she didn't really want
her friend to be yelling at her all night, she pulled over some large branches.
They were nearly logs themselves, and a bit damp, but she didn't know what else
to do.

When
Mara saw the piles of wood, half of it hidden under the log to keep it dry, she
didn't scream at least.

"We
can use that, I think. If we can get the smaller tinder going well enough, almost
anything will burn. The smoke can be a killer. I'm ready for more branches. We need
a foot on the ground and nearly that over us. We have to tie it down too, since
the wind is picking up a bit. This isn't a wind storm, I don't believe. We just
can't leave The Lament inflated in anything over ten kilometers an hour really.
We need to move. In a few minutes I won't be able to see my hands in front of my
face." She smiled, and while it was actually nearing dark, it wasn't that bad
yet. Just nearly. There was no moon to speak of, so Pran hurried.

It
wasn't enough, and not in time, but on the good side the wind wasn't all that bad.

Nothing
was, at first.

"Oh,
what fresh hell is this?" Pran intoned as she and Mara huddled in the little
stick and branch shelter. What she was addressing was the wind, which hadn't gotten
much stronger, maybe a few kilometers per hour, but had suddenly turned to ice.
It hadn't been exactly warm before, but now it was bitter, sapping the heat from
the fire that was placed in the door of the little shelter. That was so they wouldn't
die from the smoke.

At
least Pran thought so. There was a reflector behind it, but the scent of the burning
logs still filled the place.

Mara
sighed, which was a mournful thing, for her. Normally she was happy enough seeming.
Pran was starting to wonder if it was an act, but if so, she couldn't fault it.
That was how she got through most of her days too.

"Damn
it. It's a cold front coming in. I knew the wind was from the North. Well, we have
to get ready for it, which means
you
do, since I still can't really see in
the dark all that well. We'll need another six layers of pine branches on the top
of this thing. For insulation. More for in here too. It won't be the softest mattress
in the world, but trust me, by morning you'll be happy to be off the ground by an
extra foot. It's not going to leave much space." Reaching up she touched the
branches that were only about two feet above their heads already.

Pran
listened to the softly hissing fire, the light rain not threatening to put it out
yet, but still making it dim a little.

"Oh,
that
kind of fresh hell. The one where I go outside and flail around for
hours. Well, thanks for explaining it to me. Pass the knife? I'll be a while."

Mara
chuckled, as if it were a joke or gentle hazing, rather than a life and death struggle
against nature.

That
was probably just her way of saying that it wasn't all that serious. Except that,
even after she bundled up and wrapped herself in not one, but both her oil slickers,
the cold was still enough to make her shiver at first. It wasn't freezing outside
yet, but everything was damp, which the second she started to pull at the small
branches she needed, soaked her mittens.

For
a long time she just worked, fumbling away from the firelight as far as she dared,
grasping up as high as she could and trying to guess how thick the sappy branches
were, by feel. She could cut through things about as thick as her own thumb, with
work and twisting. It smelled powerfully of pine, and got all over her, since the
tree wasn't frozen yet either. Then, after making a big pile, she layered the things
carefully on the top of the structure, trying not to collapse it. Mara had said
six of them, but she did more than that, since doing more would make it warmer.
Hopefully. As long as the whole thing didn't come down on them from the weight.
So far it seemed fine, but it might be a long night.

Then
she repeated the whole thing, and after only three hours of being out in the rain,
mainly soaked and already cold, Pran started to pass the branches in to the Guardian,
who hadn't gone to sleep or anything yet.

"Another."
There was no mention of "please" but Pran could understand that. It was
so cool out now that the rain had started to turn to a wet and sloppy snow and ice
mix already. They didn't have a lot of time to play around with niceties. Of course
Mara was actually perking up, as if things were starting to get
fun
.

Clearly
it was a sign of mental illness.

"And..."
The woman inside the dark hole made noises for a while, resetting the oil cloth
which was their floor. "Done! Add more wood to the fire. Just move the logs
on, so that the ends are in the blaze. No, not that much." There was a moment
of exasperation in her voice. "That's
over
the fire. Haven't you ever
gone camping before? I keep having to tell you things that even farm kids would
know. Even
city
kids and that's saying something." There was an edge
to the words, as if Pran were being called stupid by the woman.

That
made her bristle a bit, tired already and wet from being outside. Cold too.

"Why
no, Guardian Mara, they didn't take us anywhere at the orphanage and when I was
in school, I had to study all the time. Did they take you camping in guardian training?"
She meant it to point out that the other woman was being a bit of a bitch, without
saying the actual word, since they were friends, but Mara snorted at her.

"Yes.
We had to live like this for a full year in fact, when we were ten. It didn't occur
to me that it would be different for anyone else. Even before that my father took
me and my brothers a couple times a year. Just off into the woods like this. Always
in the summer, as you'd probably guess. It's a lot more fun then. We had tents too.
Old canvas things that my father and mother had made. Mom didn't really like camping
that much, but she'd go once or twice a year, just to keep dad happy, I think. We'd
have cook outs and roast bits of meat and sausages on sticks over the flames. Then
we'd all take turns singing and making up stories. I know it probably sounds boring,
but I was eight, so it didn't take a lot to impress me back then." She half
crawled out the little cave they'd made and moved the wood around in the fire, until
the ends of the two big branches touched each other in the middle of the flames.
"Not that great for heat, but it will have to do. You need to change, I bet.
Strip off out there and then come inside, so you don't bring all that moisture with
you."

At
first Pran was nearly certain the other woman was kidding, since it had gotten a
lot colder out, and her breath was a giant plume in the air, even with the slush
mix slapping the top of her head the instant the oil cloth was taken off. It took
some prodding by Mara, but she did it, shivering the whole time, holding one of
the clothes around her to keep the worst of the wind off. Then she had to carefully
crawl in, most of the space having been taken away by branches.

The
only saving grace was that she'd bothered to bring extra things to wear, and with
only a little grunting and a few tiny moans, she managed to get into them. They
weren't set right, so they pulled in funny places, but it was better than going
without. Then Mara snuggled in next to her and wrapped them both in the slightly
damp slicks she'd been using.

"We
can't actually sleep much, if things are going to get bad. Awake and prepared a
person can survive temperatures many times below the snow point. You can't get lazy
though. We need to try and keep the fire going, and stay wrapped up. We have a good
platform under us for it, so we should try a fire meditation." Then she went
silent, as if Pran had some hope of knowing what that was?

Meditation
was a thing that she'd only recently encountered at all, and the Guardian knew that,
having been one of the people teaching her about it. It was probably just that the
woman was bored and wanted her to talk part of the time, rather than just lecturing.
Pran could do that, she decided, taking the role of dutiful student, since it was
one she'd played before.

Grinning
she looked at the woman, who was only a few inches away from her, in the mainly
dark space. It smelled too strongly of pine really, but under the coverings she
wasn't cold anymore at least. It was the shared body heat, more than the fire, which
was still burning away merrily, even as it kept hissing at them from the cold falling
stuff. It was a lot more white now, she noticed, but too fast for real snow.

"Fire
Meditation? Do I need to get out and sit in it? If so, you go first." Okay,
so she was being a little bit flip, but it was close enough to what was needed,
it seemed. The other woman leaned into her and sighed.

Then
she spoke, actually managing to sound like a real teacher for a few moments.

"Not
at all. That's just the rather colorful name for a heat generating and conservation
technique. You minimize contact with the floor or ground, by staying sitting up,
rather than laying down like most would naturally gravitate towards. Then you wrap
up if you can, to keep the heat collected near your body and tense your middle and
use deep abdominal breathing to keep your metabolic rate up. It's a bit like jogging
in place to keep warm, only easier and without as much wasted energy. There's even
a visualization to go along with it, so you don't get bored, just sitting and breathing."
She went into it then, making sure Pran had her head right over her body, because
heat moved upward, and that her head was covered.