Raisa looked around. No wolves in evidence. So they were safe—temporarily, at least.

Resisting the temptation to curl up and go to sleep, she tugged off her gloves and boots and began working her fingers and toes, conscious of the risk of frostbite. The pain as the blood returned was stunning. Using a fallen branch, she swept a small space clean of pine needles and debris, then centered it with a pile of dry twigs and a bit of fireweed. Reaching into the traveler’s bag, she pulled out flint and iron. By the time Byrne returned with the saddlebags and an armful of weapons, she had a hot, smokeless fire going, and was hanging her socks and gloves to dry.

“Were you able to find shelter for the horses?” she asked, sitting back on her heels.

He knelt, pushing the bags into a dry corner. “Aye, I hobbled them out of the wind, under another overhang. Gave them plenty of grain, but we’ll need to melt some snow to—”

“Bones!” Raisa said, sitting up straight. “How is Switcher’s shoulder? I’m sorry. I meant to look at it.”

“It’s not too bad,” Byrne said. “I cleaned it out some, but she wasn’t very patient with me. I’ll take another look when it’s light out.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Raisa said. “I should have seen to it myself.” After an awkward pause, she added, “And thank you for saving my life. Again.”

“I’d rather you held off on thanking me, Your Highness,” Byrne said dryly. “We’re sheltering under a tree in the middle of a blizzard. And if we get out of this, there are lots of other ways to die between here and the capital.”

The Byrnes were pessimistic sorts.

“All right,” she said briskly. “Consider my thanks withdrawn. In the meantime, give me your wet things, and I’ll hang those as well. In the off chance we survive the night, we don’t want to wear wet again tomorrow, with the temperature dropping.”

Byrne shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he said. “I had forgotten how capable you are.”

“I spent three years with the Demonai,” she said. “They travel light. If you don’t pull your weight, you’re left in camp with the toddlers and old people.”

“Some would prefer to stay in camp than ride with the Demonai,” Byrne said. He yanked off his gloves and handed them across to Raisa. Pulling off his boots, he peeled off his socks also. Raisa noticed, however, that he replaced them with dry socks from the saddlebags and thrust his feet back into his boots. Obviously, the captain did not mean to be surprised bootless.