Prevna's training group had switched from the forest to the high mountains near the border between the two territories. She said it was so that the group had firsthand knowledge of all sorts terrains, and so that they could make their final boon stronger by increasing their cold resistance. I wasn't keen on surprising her in such a barren place, but I couldn't change when we celebrated her naming day or cause too much of a disruption that would get her in trouble with her mentors.

Really, the new placement wouldn't have been so bad if didn't mean that I now had to get Deamar clothes so he wouldn't freeze. Given where he had grown up, the cold would likely be doubly shocking for him, but I couldn't leave him behind in Seedling Palace, no matter how tempting the thought had been. I'd likely need fire at some point on the trip and I couldn't count on reaching Prevna's group first. Besides, leaving him here felt like an open invitation for Jin or someone else to twist and exploit the situation, so I figured it was better to take the fool along.

Typically, fire starters sourced such things as clothes and preserved food for trips themselves, but since I couldn't trust Deamar to do it, and he likely had even less of an idea of where to go than I did, I had to figure it out. Luckily, Mishtaw was able to pass on some suggestions from Creed and I followed his pointers to a provisioning area situated in a tangle of branches below the goddess's nest and nearly equidistant between the six trees that made up the Seedling Palace.

Whereas whisper women separated into their different sects and clung to their hierarchy, it seemed that, behind the scenes, fire starters were much more willing to continue mingling and helping each other out. Some sects might be more highly regarded than others to partner with, such as becoming the fire starter to a Peacekeeper rather than a Beastwatcher, but overall they worked together to support the whisper women. And there were some who preferred the random pairings brought on by the Beastwatcher sect's way of doing things rather than constantly staying with the same person like they would have to with other sects. Whisper women might work with others from across the sects but sect affiliation was always in the back of my mind, but it didn't seem to be as much of a concern for the crowd of fire starters getting supplies.

Perhaps the difference came from the fact that the fire starters never fully left the community they grew up in behind. Even when they split up to support the different sects they still congregated in the Seedling Palace and many of the tasks they were expected to perform weren't sect specific. Meanwhile whisper women were more defined by our blessings and our position in the sect that we belonged to. I wasn't a full whisper woman yet, and had mentors that crossed sect boundaries, but even I could feel the allure of belonging to a specific group—and the way we were all taken from our home tribes likely pushed that desire further.

The provisioning area was a long, thin area that fit on a tangle of branches and woven needles. Two booths on either side per provision type with room for two lines, mainly split between men and women, and that was about it. You'd start at one end and run the gauntlet of supplies until you were spit back out at the other end. If you only needed one thing that was near the end of the supply chain, you waited through the other booths all the same. I wasn't sure why they chose to do things that way, other than the fact that the area was about as centrally located as one could get in Seedling Palace, but things looked like they moved along efficiently enough.

However, the setup also meant I couldn't slip in and just get what I thought Deamar needed and then leave. I'd be noticed, and I wasn't thrilled that his…choices would leave another oddity associated with my name. There were no other whisper women in those long lines. Still, needs must and all that; nor could I say that this was the oddest thing I'd done all week. My storytelling had taken care of that.

People could stare. I'd get what I needed and be done.

I stepped out of the shadowed alcove I'd taken refuge in and strode out into the main walkway leading to the provisioning area. It didn't take long for one of the fire starters in front of me to glance back, do a double take, and then the whispers started. I had avoided that before by shadow walking most of the way, but I couldn't pop up in the middle of their carefully coordinated chaos and demand they give me what I needed. It cause more confusion than necessary and likely take longer than just arriving the normal way.

The whispers increased to constant buzz until one fire starter stopped walking and stepped to the side of the walkway, head bowed. I faltered for a moment, not sure what was going on, before I found my spine and kept striding forward. However, with every step, more and more fire starters copied the first until what had been a crowded walkway was now some procession of one that I hadn't wanted or expected. In some awful, vaguely heretical way it reminded me of the Calling Road. I was tempted to turn around, to step into a shadow and disappear.

They weren't bowing fully, which was something, at least. No offering blood, no crossed arms, but they were acting out of deference I didn't deserve. Some part of me half hoped and half feared that the goddess would strike us down for blasphemy, but the world was quiet except for the ever present brush of wind. And every step I took with Her punishment, the more it became ingrained in these people's minds that they were making the correct choice. That I was someone to be deferred to and it made me want to crawl out of my skin.

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I had leaned on a name, on power, that wasn't mine and now I was paying the price.

All they knew of me was likely a vague description, that terrible nickname, and some story or two that was more hyperbole than fact and so they bowed their heads, just in case of the goddess's ire, and that was enough. If I wasn't deserving of it, if I wasn't the Little Love, surely the goddess would have punished them by now, punished me. They didn't have to say anything and yet the nickname gained strength.

Especially when I reached five steps and, unlike Grislander, got to keep on walking.

I almost stopped. Almost shouted at all of them that they could think and do what they liked but I wasn't what they thought I was. I almost did that, but the words died on my tongue and I kept walking. Step by step until I reached the start of the provisioning area. The last time I had tried to stop the momentum my nickname had gained I only made it worse and I couldn't think of any words strong enough to counteract the goddess's lack of action.

Storms, but I was never going to do Deamar's job for him again. Next time he could freeze like the rock he so often pretended to be. I stood just on the edge of the provisioning area. If I continued forward I'd be likely to trip over someone's foot or supplies, even though they were all pressed back as far as they could go without crushing the supplies on the suppliers' blankets. Looking over all of them, it was clear as well that I was going to have to speak first if I wanted this over with anytime soon.

"Supplies for my fire starter. We go to icy mountains."

Slowly, at first, and then more quickly, the fire starters twitched to life and started passing down provisions before piling them at my feet. Ridiculous, really. It was like they thought I could strike them down just by looking at them, but if that had been my blessing my life would have been simpler. Nor could I call on the goddess's wrath anymore than they could.

Someone must have known what Deamar looked like because the clothes I got looked roughly his size. In that one instance infamy helped my cause, but the rest of situation I could have done without. In addition to the clothes and a thickly furred cloak, I got a pack full of food, supplies for fires, rope, a water skin, eating knife, bedroll, and a tent. It was like they assumed Deamar was walking around with absolutely nothing on his person, which really wasn't far from the truth, or they were just trying to give me a bit of everything to make me go away. All in all, it was more than I could easily carry, so I decided to experiment.

I tied everything together using the rope under the downward half-gazes and glances of the fire starters. A couple of times I saw a hand twitch like they were tempted to help me, but I hadn't asked for their help and their fear of imposing on me kept them from moving. Once I got everything into one giant bundle I stepped over to the darkest shadow and pictured myself sinking into it. If whisper women could carry around the carved trunks of trees for funeral pyres I figured I should be able to move something unwieldy as well and there wasn't much point to avoiding the shadow paths now that I already accidentally intimidated all of the fire starters.

The shadow path resisted when I tried to drag my items after me, but I reinforced my image of everything sinking down into the shadow like a rock in a lake and my makeshift bundle thunked down after me. I was thankful none of the fire starters could see me in the shadow paths after that as they were full of strained cursing as I dragged the supplies after me. I wasn't sure how Deamar would manage it all, but that would be up to him in the end. When I finally got to the shadow I needed, I stopped my heel down with more force than strictly necessary and didn't even need to pause to work through the feeling of vertigo that came with reorienting myself to the real world.

Deamar wasn't out on the training grounds so I dragged the supplies a bit further to his shack and shoved the curtain aside. He hadn't bothered to tie it shut from the inside. I found him not curled up in despair, but with a pine cone lantern perched near his side and a scroll he was squinting at, finger tracing under one line. I blinked—a bit surprised he could apparently read or had any interest in it.

I snatched it from his lap before he could react and skimmed over it. It was a brief summary about Carvers, though it had none of the detail I learned from spending an evening with them. Which was understandable enough, given that they held their information close and rarely interacted with others outside their enclaves. I could see how Deamar might be interested in them given that his fathers were currently being held in an enclave, though that held little importance for his current situation.

I held the scroll up. "Where did you get this?"

He glared at me. "Give it back."

"No. Where did you get it? Documents aren't supposed to go far from where they're stored."

I held his glare and matched it with my own. I had more than enough frustration built up to make it fierce. He broke first.

"The library nook not far from here."

I tucked it into my belt and dragged the supplies into the room. They took up the rest of the room on his pallet and blocked his access to the entrance. "Get these sorted while I put this back. We're going on a trip soon to icy mountains."

His jaw set stubbornly. "I'm not going."

I smiled but it wasn't kind. "You're going, but whether you freeze or not, that's up to you."

I stepped back from the doorway and let the curtain fall. He would handle the rest or face the consequences. It wasn't like I was going to die from a bit of frigid weather.

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