THE DOWNHILL scramble was more treacherous than the uphill climb. Po complained that his toes were liable to burst through the front of his boots; and then he complained that he wished they would, for they ached from the constant downhill beat of his feet. And then Katsa noticed that he stopped complaining altogether and sank into a preoccupation.

“Po. We’re moving fast.”

“Yes.” He shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted down at the fields of Monsea. “I only hope it’s fast enough.”

They camped that night beside a stream that ran with melting snow. She sat on a rock and watched his eyes that glimmered with worry. He glanced at her and smiled suddenly. “Would you like something sweet to eat with this rabbit?”

“Of course,” she said, “but it makes little difference what I want, if all we have is rabbit.”

He stood then and turned away into the scrub.

Where are you going?

He didn’t answer. His boots scraped on rock as he disappeared into blackness.

She stood. “Po!”

“Don’t worry your heart, Katsa.” His voice came from a distance. “I’m only finding what you want.”

“If you think I’m just going to sit here—”

“Sit down. You’ll ruin my surprise.”

She sat, but she let him know what she thought of him and his surprise, rattling around in the dark and breaking his ankles on the rocks most likely, so she’d have to carry him the rest of the way down the mountain. A few minutes passed, and she heard him returning. He stepped into the light and came to her, his hand cupped before him. When he knelt before her, she saw a little mound of berries in his palm. She looked into the shadows of his face.

“Winterberries?” she asked. “Winterberries.” She took one from his hand and bit into it. It popped with a cold sweetness. She swallowed the soft flesh and watched his face, confused. “Your Grace showed them to you, these winterberries.”

“Yes.”

“Po. This is new, isn’t it? That you should sense a plant with such clarity. It’s not as if it were moving or thinking or about to crash down on top of you.”

He sat back on his heels. He tilted his head. “The world is filling in around me,” he said, “piece by piece. The fuzziness is clearing. To be honest, it’s a bit disorienting. I’m ever so slightly dizzy.”

Katsa stared at him. There was nothing to say in response to this; his Grace was showing him winterberries, and he was ever so slightly dizzy. Tomorrow he would be able to tell her about a landslide on the other side of the world, and they would both faint.

She sighed and touched the gold in his ear. “If you put your feet into the stream, the snow water will soothe your toes, and I’ll rub the warmth back into them when you’re done.”

“And if I’m cold in places other than my toes? Will you warm me there, too?”