As he mounted the steps, he caught a whiff of sulfur. Keeping his eyes forward, he climbed to the top and out of the rock chamber. When he looked back, there was the blue spring again, steaming and stinking and seemingly deadly.

He descended through the gently sloping tunnel at a trot. He’d accumulated a little more flash while he sat in the council meeting. One by one, he disabled magical barriers, the same as he’d encountered on his way in. As he ran, he mapped the path in his mind.

Finally, the tunnel flattened into the straight, broad pathway back to the entrance cave. Here there were fewer barriers, and Han made rapid progress.

When he reached the opening into the cave where he’d left Dancer, it was still covered with a mist of magic. A raven was etched into the stone on this side as well. Once again, he scraped away layers of charms until only one fine layer stood between him and the outside.

Pressing his palm against the raven, speaking the final charm, he walked through it.

Gratefully, he sucked cold fresh air into his lungs. There, and back, and still alive. That was something to be grateful for.

By now it was dark outside, and pitch black inside the cave where his wizard light didn’t penetrate. Only a faint glow told him where the exit was.

“Dancer?” he called softly.

No answer.

Han circled the cave, illuminating the dark corners. No Dancer. He walked to the opening and peered out.

Dancer lay flat on his back on the ground just outside the cave, his body in glowing outline, eyes closed. Tendrils of vine were looped around his legs and arms. Had it not been for the flash emanating from him, Han might have overlooked him.

“Dancer?”

Dancer didn’t seem to hear.

Worry knotted Han’s stomach. He knelt next to Dancer and shook him hard. “Dancer! Hey, now, wake up!”

Dancer opened his eyes and looked at Han. He blinked several times, as if he’d been in a trance. Then his eyes focused on Han and he smiled dreamily.

“What are you doing?” Han said, sitting back on his heels. “I thought…I didn’t know what to think.”

“I was tracking you, inside the mountain,” Dancer whispered. He sat up, bits of damp leaves clinging to his back. “I’m experimenting,” he said, shaking off leaf mold and twigs. “The Spirit clans draw power from the land. That’s what fuels flash-crafting, healing, and the rest. It happens naturally when we’re in the Spirits. I wondered if I could accelerate the process, using high magic.”

“And?” Han tilted his head.