Young Writers Society

Everything was happening so fast. One moment, Fish was going on about hearing dogs talking, the next moment, the sky was darkening with rainclouds only for Rain to practically call it off as quickly as it rolled in.

Obviously, none of this was according to plan. And, well, with everyone freaking out, there was hardly any room for her to freak out.

Someone had to keep their head screwed on straight.

Lake's song had been cut short when Rain had shouted at the sleet to stop. Now it was only sprinkling. Though that was manageable, it was still cold.

Lake sighed.

"Okay," she said, voice forcefully firm. "Fish, grab your sleeping bag. Rain, get ready to move. I'm making us a shelter just in case."

With a deep breath, she faced the snow wall surrounding them and sang an old snow-moving song to create a roof. Even as she started the first note of the melody, she could feel a hum of energy in her throat, and in her fingertips. With careful hands she directed the snow to carve over their heads like a roof, blocking out the rain.

The snow came arching over them with a rush. Lately, she'd had to practically fight with her magic and drag it along. Now, suddenly, it was like it was over-eager.

The snow roof came together, but it stretched out even further than she intended. It reached over the dogs, and the sled, and completely closed them in so that they couldn't see the sky.

The only light filling their snowy cage was the flickering, dim light of the fire that had been dampened by the rain.

With a deep breath, Lake sang another song, this one soft and under her breath. Just to give the fire a gentle nudge.

The wood dried instantly, and the fire pulsed to life with a crackly roar, back to its former glory.

Lake stiffly planted a hand on Fish's shoulder. She didn't even finish the melody before he poofed up, all dry.

The dogs barked at that.

"Okay," Lake said with a deep breath. "So... so we've got stronger magic, is all. No biggie."

"WHAT is going ON?" Fish yelled, his newfound poofiness finally shaking him out of shock. He seemed overstimulated with everything going on but was still hyperfocused on the dogs.

Rain still had her sleeping bag pulled over her head like a salty burrito, torn somewhere between shock and misty-eyed discontentment. "This isn't 'stronger magic'. It's not like I can just control the weather like-" she snapped, and it instantly thundered so loud it shook them all to the core. She yelped and edged closer to her friends, looking up fearfully.

"HOW DID YOU DO THAT?" Fish yelled in exasperation, edging away from her again.

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"Rain," Lake said, still forcing her voice to be steady. "I think maybe your uh, your mood is affecting that."

She turned towards Lake slowly, blinking. "That makes no sense whatsoever. What am I? A cartoon? This my literal-rather-than-metaphorical rain cloud?"

"I'm not saying it has to make sense," Lake said. "I'm just saying that's what appears to be happening. Fish is apparently hearing the dogs talk. That doesn't make sense either. But he's freaked enough that I believe he's not making it up."

"I'm not going crazy. Are you going crazy? Dogs aren't supposed to talk," Fish said defensively, trying to convince himself more than the girls.

"I'm probably not the best person to ask about going crazy," Lake said with a shrug. "I have a pickaxe with my dad's name on it and I had a dream about finding god."

"Rain. Think happy thoughts. Make it stop being so cold. If you can really change the weather, do it again. Right? Can you do that? Or is that crazy?" Fish said.

"I can't control the weather." She glared and a gust of freezing air came swooping into the little cave, putting the fire out. "... I really hate this." It started thundering again.

"Would it make you feel better if I did a little warm poofy spell on you too?" Lake suggested.

"Guys, I'm freaking out here, it's cold, and it's dark. What if something attacks us?" Fish hyperventilated.

The dogs seemed to react to the thundering and dark chaos, now whining and moving in closer and brushing up against them, which of course, made Fish freak out some more.

"Yeah, hah, nope, nope, nope, don't like that! Quit talking!" Fish said... presumably to the dogs wailing.

Lake sighed, reaching out in the darkness to find Fish's shoulder. She pulled him in, arm firm around his back.

"Fish," she said. "If the dogs can understand you. Just try telling them to shut up. They're pretty obedient if you just say it like you mean it."

He was quiet for a moment, her touch seeming to ground him. Lake was barely able to make him out in the embers lighting the little room, but he was also trying to make her out too.

"That's kinda mean though..." he muttered.

"The dogs will be fine," Lake said flatly.

Rain sighed, and a deep rumble of thunder reverberated outside. She looked around. "That is insane. This isn't happening. This can't be happening."

Rain was in denial. Lake kind of was too, still, but she was just going into crisis management mode. It was hard to deny when with every grumble Rain caused a rumble and with every dog's whimper Fish would twitch.

"Just try it," Lake said after a pause, patting Fish's back. "Tell them it's okay. The storm will pass. Be quiet and go to sleep."

"Okay... okay, fine," Fish sighed, sitting up straighter and deeply concentrating on the dogs. "Hey... dogs. Yeah, I, uh... hear you."

A few of the dogs barked back excitedly since this was the first time they were getting direct attention with words they could understand.

"Shhhhh... shh. Be quiet, okay? The storm will pass. Yeah, take a nap... Sure, you can get a treat. Later. Just -- be quiet, okay?"

It was odd hearing a one-sided conversation of language between man and dog, but Fish and the dogs seemed to understand each other. And just like predicted, the dogs were obedient and quieted down, only panting.

"See?" Lake said with another shoulder pat. "There ya go. You're more in control than you think."

"I don't get it," Fish mumured. "Why can I talk to dogs? Why can Rain control the weather? And why can you --" he gestured to their snow ceiling, "-- do this, whatever this is?"

"Do you think I have a real answer to that?" Lake asked with a raised brow that he probably couldn't even see.

"I don't know, you're the one with weird visions," Fish huffed.

Lake pursed her lips.

Yeah. Maybe if she slept on it she'd get another dream.

She pulled away from Fish and turned her hands back to the dying embers.

"Maybe it's a sign we're going in the right direction," she said before lowly humming the fire song to try to keep it contained.

The fire roared back to life - the flame jumping in the air before it settled down with its previous crickle-crackle.

"Okay. Fire's back on. No more heavy sighs, Rain," Lake joked - even though it wasn't really a joke.

About that time, she noticed that the air had gotten warmer and the outside world was calm. It was clear Rain had been distracted by listening to Fish and the dogs and the fire. Now, though, she looked up, and there was a silent flash of lightning outside.

"Is... this can't be..." she edged closer to the opening. "Alright. Fine. I'll bite. If I can control the weather then--"

She pointed at a tree a few dozen yards away and lightning struck it. She yelped again and laughed nervously, torn somewhere between shock and delight as she turned back to her friends. "I am GOD!" She stared down at her hands.

"Oh god. Put. Your hands. Dooooown," Fish said slowly with his hands out in front of him, treating Rain's like like they were guns.

Lake stared at the fried tree.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Lake said, on the edge of nervousness. "We still have a lot of night ahead of us. We need to get some sleep."

Fish didn't know what on earth was happening. This was supposed to be a normal camping trip - at least, as normal as being inspired by a dream and a children's book about finding a god. Still, he never would have predicted that here, now, he would be able to talk to dogs, and Rain would be able to control the weather.

This was crazy. This was all crazy.

But if he and Rain had this newfound power, then...

"We can't just go to sleep now that we know we can do all this," Fish said with his hands in the air, directing his comments towards Lake. "What about you? What can you do now? What if it impacts our sleep? Trip? Lives?!"

"You make it sound like I'm going to kill you in your sleep or something!" Lake snapped, sounding annoyed.

Fish pointed at the fried trip, snapping his head back and forth between them. "I mean... I don't want to be that tree. No offense, Rain."

Rain was still staring down at her hands in wonder and it was obvious her thoughts were racing by a mile a minute, but what those thoughts were was anyone's guess. That is, until she looked up at them and said in a serious tone, "I think we can just go home now, guys. If I control the weather, then we're set. I'll go end winter. We don't need Cheva anymore."

Fish stared blankly at her, slow-blinking. "You can barely even control your mood. How are you going to control the weather like that?"

Rain glared at him, and there was a distant rumble of thunder. "You're just jealous I got useful magic."

Fish crinkled his nose and decided to let this comment slide. He sure wasn't going to defend his newfound abilities by saying dog-talking was more useful than shooting lighting out of your fingertips.

"If you really can control the weather," Lake said said, looking at Rain with her hand on her chin. "Then... maybe we just need to make you happy to bring summer back. Quick, think of something happy."

"The winter's not my fault," Rain scoffed defensively.

"I didn't say it was!" Lake said, lifting up her hands in front of her. "I'm just saying maybe you could change it!"

Rain looked at her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I... feel like it can't be that hard to figure out how to control this."

"Just think of sunshine or something," Fish said with a shrug.

Rain took a deep breath and closed her eyes, expression the pinnacle of focus and determination. But nothing happened. Her brow creased and Fish could tell she was focusing even harder, but still nothing... nothing... nothing... until there was a loud crack of thunder and flash of lightning nearby.

Fish had half-expected this, but yet it still scared the bejeebers out of him and he flinched.

"So that's a no," he said with a nervous laugh. "Let's maybe hold off on testing thunder for the rest of the night."

"It's not like I meant--" an even louder rumble overpowered her words, though he could still see the venom in her glare even as she shrank a bit and looked up at the sky, clearly also scared of her new powers.

"Maybe you could dance," Lake suggested. "Like when you use your normal magic."

"Yeah, like a rain dance," Fish said with a forced chuckle, but it felt too forced and he winced. "Sorry. Bad joke."

"What would I even be trying to do?" An icy wind that stabbed through their clothes blew through the area, making them all shiver.

"A sun dance," Lake said with a little smile, though it faltered when she looked over her shoulder at the source of the wind. "I mean... if you don't want to you don't have to. It was just an idea."

Rain was still glaring as she looked between them, but it was clearly a very feeble mask for how distraught she was.

Lake knelt down came up beside Rain, patting her back.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," Lake said. "We'll figure this out. Maybe all this magic stuff is happening for a reason. Maybe it means we're doing something right, even though it's scary."

"There is no universe in which this ends well." Rain took a shaky breath, looking at Lake urgently. "What if I fall asleep?"

She didn't have to elaborate any further on that for all of them to remember her long, long history of nightmares.

"I'll make a stronger snow shelter," Lake said lightly with another smile, though Fish could see it was a little strained.

Fish lightly cleared his throat, glancing between the two of them and the dogs who were obediently sitting nearby, listening in the conversation. At least, his parts of the conversation.

"I guess... I could have the dogs lick you awake, then," he offered. "Because I'm not doing that."

Rain snorted and rolled her eyes, but she stopped glaring quite as hard.

"The dogs are very friendly," Lake encouraged. "They'll be nice about it."

"So... we just hope I start thrashing before I start shooting lightning?"

"What else do you have in mind?" Fish asked.

There was another rumble of thunder. "I don't know."

"Okay," Lake said. "I know that all of this is really freaky and stressful. But freaking out over it isn't going to help us. We're all tired, and I think we really should at least try to get some rest."

Rain stared at her, emotions jumbled up and crashing into each other. She didn't understand. Neither of them understood. Lake could control her magic, it seemed. Use it help them.

Fish couldn't, but, well, at least his was just eavesdropping on a pack of dogs.

But her?

Oh, no. She had the responsibility of the freaking weather attached to her emotions. If she got upset, she was going to fry all of them. Probably in their sleep. What if instead of waking up in a cold sweat, she woke up in the middle of a wildfire that she caused herself?

She clearly couldn't sleep. That would endanger all of them. And she wasn't willing to put her friends in danger just so she could take a nap.

And yet.

If she didn't go to sleep then she'd get cranky. And gods only knew what would happen then.

"I can't do that, and you know it." Rain's voice was quiet. Weak.

"Listen, Rain," Lake said. "We're not going to get through this if we don't trust each other. If anything happens, we'll figure it out together."

"No." Rain shook her head, backing away from them. She was a monster and she needed to get as far away from her friends as humanly possible. Fast.

Fish sighed. "I'm going to sleep," he mumbled, already crawling back to his space and gathering his sleeping bag that he had earlier strewn across the floor.

Lake stood up and motioned to the snowy shelter ahead of them, softly humming a melody. What was once snow started to harden, solidifying into an icy fortress around them.

"No, I have to go." Rain was still backing away, shaking her head. Anxiety was gripping at her core as she felt like she was starting to get trapped in. "I have to go!"

"Rain," Lake said. "You and Fish are my best friends--"

"Which is exactly why I'm not going to be the one to murder you in your sleep."

"Or... you could make it less cold. Maybe," Fish offered under the blankets. "It goes both ways."

Lake stood still and looked to Rain for a moment, her brows furrowed together tightly in concern. She flicked her eyes to the struggling fire, and with a barely audible hum, seemed to breathe life back into it.

"Okay," Lake said quietly.

But that was all she said before she quickly stepped up to Rain and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a firm hug. Rain tensed, anxiety spiking through her. But quickly relaxed into Lake's arms, taking the comfort her friend always offered her so freely. This was so bad. Everything was bad.

"I'm going to kill everyone," Rain whispered, anguished. She couldn't stay here with her friends. And she obviously couldn't go back home now. Ever. She needed to... she didn't even know. Was there a Wiki-How on what to do when you got cursed?

Lake hugged Rain even tighter.

"No you won't. You know why I know that?" Lake asked softly.

She couldn't know that. And yet. "... why?"

"Because deep down, I know you love us. And if your new magic is influenced by your emotions, I think that love is stronger than fear, anxiety, or a little annoyance," Lake said warmly with a comforting pat on Rain's back.

"I hope so," she whispered miserably, wishing for the millionth time that she was capable of Lake's endless optimism. The ability to stay happy even in the face of the end of the world. A few tears slipped down her face and she roughly wiped them away.

Lake pulled away and offered Rain a small smile.

"Could you at least try to sleep?" Lake asked softly with a tilt of her head. "You look exhausted. I know it'll help to at least lie down and close your eyes if you can."

Rain sighed and rubbed her face. She couldn't lay down without almost certainly falling asleep. And she couldn't fall asleep without almost certainly killing her best friends. And this was a no-win situation. But it'd just worry Lake if she said no. It'd be better to agree and lay down so that at least Fish and Lake could get some rest, even if Rain needed to stay awake for the rest of the weekend. "Okay."

Rain's plan worked swimmingly. She laid down and closed her eyes and pretended to sleep until Lake and Fish actually fell asleep. She listened to their soft breathing until she was certain that they were out cold, then she pushed herself upright and scooted backward until her back was pressed against the wall of the makeshift fort that Lake had created for them with her magic.

She pulled her knees to her chest and sighed softly, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back to rest along the wall as well.

She really should just go.

Sneak away.

It would worry her friends massively when they woke up and found her missing. But, well, at least that way they would wake up. If Rain stayed with them, that much wasn't guaranteed. It was only a matter of time before she messed this up, just like she messed everything up.

But, then, she supposed that she would finally have her father's approval now, for the first time in her life.

Either she'd go missing, and he could get sympathy from the entire town about how his noble, brave, just-like-her-father daughter went off and sacrificed herself on behalf of the town. Or it'd come out that she was the reason that she and her friends were dead, in which case he could paint her as the villain and still get sympathy that he'd had to raise such a witch. Either way, she was about to get him a bunch of attention and sympathy.

Woo.

The passive aggressive part of her hated that that was the only outcome. That however way she lost, he won. There was no way to make this lose-lose. And certainly no way to make it win-win. Not that she'd want him to win in any case, whether she did or not. That was too good for him.

But Mama.

Rain sighed softly, rubbing her face.

Mama was going to lose most of all.

For all of her enabling of her father's abusive behavior, Rain did believe that Mama genuinely loved and cared about her. Which meant that she was going to have to deal with losing a daughter, in addition to watching her pathetic excuse of a husband capitalize on the tragedy to advance his own agenda.

And then poor Lia would be stuck as an only child.

Which is what she'd always claimed she wanted.

But it wasn't. And they both knew it. For all of their differences, they both knew that Rain was the shield between Lia and their father. Rain was pretty sure Lia hadn't realized how true that was until Rain had moved out and Lia had to deal with, in effect, being an only child in that godforsaken house they tried to pretend was a home. And, when she wasn't being a moody teenager, Lia spent a fair bit of time finding respite in the safety of Rain's home.

Sure, it was just a tiny, janky flat that she could afford without roommates on a teacher's salary. But she'd made it the sanctuary she'd always vowed she would. And her father, to this day, had never set foot inside it.

She supposed that was about to change, too.

He'd probably delight in getting to rummage through her belongings and disrespect her one last time.

God.

How had she gone from game night with her friends, to planning her disappearance and/or death?

She wished she would have hugged Mama a little tighter before she left.

Would have actually said bye to Lia.

She would have, if she'd known she was never going to see them again.

Rain heard the soft pitter patter of rain on the roof overhead and sighed softly and actively forced herself to stop wallowing in self-pity before she melted the shelter. There was no use in this. She either needed to stop or she needed to leave. Or both.

She glanced towards Fish's many bags, wondering if he'd brought a notebook and pencil so that she could write a note to let her friends know she'd left. Then they could be furious with her for leaving rather than panicked about what had happened.

But they'd probably still be worried.

This, also, was a lose-lose.

So she sat for a long, long time in brooding silence, trying to decide the most humane way to go about protecting her friends.

Maybe an hour or two had passed before Lake started to stir, muttering unintelligably. Her murmurs sounded like they were supposed to be words, but were too soft and sleepily slurred to make out. Lake had talked in her sleep before on occasion, so this wasn't surprising. At least, until she shot up, eyes wide.

She wasn't exactly breathing fast like she'd woken up from a nightmare, but she was alarmingly alert.

With her long hair twisted around to one side from sleeping in a corkscrew position, Lake turned to look at Rain. She stared blankly for a moment, like she was still caught in the memory of whatever dream she'd woke up from, and it was a moment before her eyes actually focused and she was looking at Rain instead of through her.

Lake blinked hard and then looked at Rain again.

"You're still up," she whispered groggily.

Rain looked at her with a furrowed brow. "Are you okay?"

"Hm?" Lake hummed, scratching the back of her head. "Oh. Yeah, uh. I just had uh, like... the weirdest dream. Not in the same weird my other dream was..."

"Mm..." Rain squinted at her in the dying firelight. "What about?"

"Uh..." Lake drew her brows together, and looked off into the fire. "It was about our dads."

Rain looked at her skeptically. Why in the world would Lake be dreaming about them of all people? Thankfully, she knew she didn't have to ask for Lake to elaborate. She was always ready to ramble it seemed like.

"They were all like, our age," Lake went on. "Young and-- I don't know, it was before any of them were married, I'm guessing. It's weird 'cause... I think the dream was of them being here, at this campsite. They were all... okay, this is going to sound crazy but they were looking for Cheva too. It felt like I was watching a memory from the past or something, except it was 20 something years ago."

Rain nodded. It did sound crazy. But what were dreams anyhow, if not absurd? "And did they have any luck?"

"Well, it didn't get to that part yet," Lake mumbled. "They were just... talking."

A little grin grew on her face, like she was remembering something funny.

"You dad kept getting teased a lot," she said. "He was so pouty. Like a little kid."

"Sounds about right." Rain forced a smile.

"He was so skinny too," Lake said. "Next to Fish's dad, who was just as much a giant then as he is now. Just baby-faced."

Rain actually gave a genuine smile at that. "I bet they were different back then."

"They seemed a lot less serious," Lake said with a huff through her nose. "My dad was so, like... almost sassy. Nowadays he just makes a lot of dad jokes. And Fish's dad seemed so like... I don't know. Bright eyed and innocent? Hopeful, even? He's so straight-faced and no-nonsense now. It's kind of sad, actually."

Rain hummed softly for a moment. "What do you think happened?"

"Back then?" Lake asked with a tilt of her head. "Like, did they find Cheva too, you think? I mean, I'd have thought they'd have told us about it. That's kind of a big deal."

Oh. So she thought the dream was real. Honestly, at this point, why not? She was too tired to try to make sense of it or try to talk sense into Lake. So, instead, she just nodded. "Yeah. Probably so."

Lake felt a pinch of frustration and hurt at the underlying disbelief in Rain's voice, despite her resigned reassurance.

Rain and Fish were always so skeptical of her. Every idea, every proposition, every thing she brought before them was always met with criticism under the guise of "realism" before it was met with trust and belief.

Sure, in times past not all of her ideas had been great. That was everyone's story in life if they were being honest. It wasn't Lake's fault that she was actually okay with failing and failing hard so she could try it all over again another day. That was how you grew. That was how you lived life to the fullest.

Just once, she wished Rain would take her at her word. And maybe she was, now, but it was only because she was tired and fed up with everything because their magic freaking out was so overwhelming.

Lake pushed the frustration down and shrugged in reply, deciding to keep the conversation rolling quietly, taking the path of least resistance.

She didn't want to work Rain up in this state. She was already stressed out and probably scared out of her mind. She figured Rain hadn't slept at all, yet, either.

That made her feel bad for feeling frustrated at all in the first place.

"I don't know," she decided to hypothesize. "Maybe they did find her but had to keep it secret for some reason. You think Cheva likes to keep things on the down-low? I can see wanting to do that if I was a god."

"Maybe," Rain agreed weakly, rubbing her face. "Or maybe it was just a dream. Maybe we can ask her if we find her."

Lake hummed.

"True," she muttered. "Still... it's weird. It was so vivid for a dream."

"Yeah..." Rain let out a quiet breath. "Weird stuff do be happening up here."

Lake huffed through her nose, nodding in agreement, but feeling like they'd finally reached a standstill.

All of them, unanimously, were just straight up confused.

Now, Lake's only hope was that somehow they would actually manage to find Cheva and she'd be able to help them. Because man, did they sure need it now. The town, her friends, and probably their fathers too for all she knew. All of them.

Sighing, Lake leaned back on one arm and looked to the fire. It had started to wane a little bit, but not for lack of fuel. She hummed the song under her breath, afraid of the magic overreacting to anything more. The fire pulsed, getting a little warmer and a little brighter, like it sensed how hesitant she was.

The firelight flickered off the icy, snowy walls, reflecting around them with a dancing pattern. It cast harsh shadows over the sled, and the dogs that were all bunched up together, and Fish, who was curled up in a ball.

Fish had been snoring ever since he went back to sleep, but he was starting to snore even louder. As if he were passionately calling the hogs (which would be funny, since he could apparently talk to animals now), his snoring persisted, reverberating around them off the icy walls of their shelter.

Lake pursed her lips and looked to Rain.

"Should've brought a CPAP machine," she muttered. "I don't think I'll be able to fall back asleep like this. You think maybe if I plug his nose he's stop snoring? But I guess he'd stop breathing, too. Nevermind. We don't want that."

"Heh." Rain smirked, glancing over at him. "He'd probably splutter and stop if you throw snowballs at him."

"True," Lake said, looking over at Fish with a small, fond smile. "Though I don't really want to wake him. At least one of us needs sleep."

Rain nodded in agreement. "You should try to sleep again, though. You need to navigate."

Lake sighed.

She had a point.

"True," she said again, this time with a weary nod. "Without me, you'd all be lost. I'm a living map. A navigational wonder. A prodigy. A legend. A compass personified."

Rain blinked at her but didn't respond, clearly not sure whether to agree or argue.

"Google maps 2.0," Lake went on, resting a mittened hand on her chest.

"WiFi-less. Incredible."

"Independence from wifi? In this economy? I'm a wonder," Lake said with a goofy grin.

"Truly." Rain offered a small, tired smile in response.

Lake found her smile fading slowly, and she let out a long sigh.

She really, really wanted Rain to at least try to sleep, but she knew she couldn't force her to do anything, and she seemed both too scared and determined to give in to any kind of comfort.

Lake couldn't help but feel like some of this was her fault. The freaky magic, the trip gone wrong, even the power going out in the still pitch-black town behind them. Obviously logically it made no sense for her to take any blame, but she couldn't help but feel... responsible.

What a change. Feeling responsible for something besides her family and herself. Or feeling responsible at all.

She kept herself from muttering any of those thoughts out loud as she laid back down, pulling her sleeping bag up to her chin as she looked at Rain.

"I have some 5-hour energy in my bag if you want some later. If you get desperate," she offered quietly.

"Oh, god." Rain gave a mirthless smirk and rubbed her face. "Wonder what kind of weather a caffeine rush is."

"Maybe a nice but hastened summer breeze," Lake suggested.

"Or a cyclone," Rain said, ever the optimist. "... What even is a cyclone?"

"I would google it," Lake said. "But we don't have wifi."

"So we got the Maps, but not the Google."

"Can't have it all," Lake said simply.

She glanced at Fish, who somehow, by some unpleasant miracle, was snoring even louder.

She'd never even heard him talk this loud. She didn't think he could project that much.

"Good thing I came prepared with earplugs, though," she said with a little grin as she reached into her jacket pockets and pulled out a little plastic packet with two foam earplugs in them. Ripping it open, she rolled the earplugs until they were thin and stuck them in her ears.

She could still hear the snoring, but it at least wasn't so loud.

Pulling out another little packet, she tossed it to Rain. Even if Rain couldn't sleep, she deserved to have a little more peace and quiet so she didn't go crazy.

"Thanks," Rain said, but her voice only very barely made it past Lake's earplugs. And she made no effort to put them in, clearly resigned to her fate of a sleepless night.

Lake offered her a small smile. Rain offered another weak smile in return.

Then she rolled over and tried to fall asleep with the ever-present snoring serving as the worst possible white noise in the background.

Minutes passed by and Fish continued to snore, the deep noise reverberating around the icy chamber they slept under. And then, finally, as some miracle, an especially loud snore seemed to wake him up.

"Good dogs..." he muttered in his sleep, drearily turning to his side.

And then the snoring stopped for the rest of the night.

The loud snoring, anyways.

wc: 2563/2500

Rain sat up for a solid two hours or so, listening to Fish's obnoxious snoring. She eventually did put the earplugs in, and after a while laid down. But she wasn't going to sleep.

Until she did.

They were in his study. Just her and Father. Again.

It felt like they'd been there a million times before.

Her, wishing she was literally anywhere else. Him standing behind his desk, pacing.

"Could you explain to me why you are so intent on ruining our family?"

"It wasn't my fault--"

"'It wasn't my fault'," he mocked. "Oh, give it a rest. It's never your fault according to you. When are you going to own up to your worthlessness?"

She didn't even know what she'd done this time. But it didn't matter. When he was like this there was nothing to be done, whether it was her fault or not.

There was a fuzzy almost glitch.

She didn't know what happened.

But suddenly it'd escalated.

He was screaming, but she couldn't tell what words he was saying. It was like he was in a bowl, his words distorted.

And then suddenly he threw his coffee mug at her. It hit her shoulder, hard, then fell and shattered on the ground. He was throwing a book before she had a chance to process the mug. A hard cover that got her straight in the throat.

She coughed and grabbed her neck, dodging a book end at the last moment.

Her temper flared.

Fire shot from her fingertips.

The study was on fire. Father was on fire. She was on fire.

She gasped and sprang upright, panting. She was, somehow, sweating. And it was thunderstorming.

She forced herself to take several long, deep breaths, meditating until the storm calmed and she was left with nothing but the dying embers of the fire and her friends' snoring.

Well, that was that.

She was never going to sleep again. Her entire life.

Rain propped herself up against the wall, resolute not to fall back asleep.

Despite the weird weather and the cold, Fish slept great.

He wished it was the early morning's rain that woke him up, or the melting ice dripping above him. Instead, his alarm clock was dog's breath.

LICK.

"Good morning! We're hungry!" a chipper child-like voice said to him, which would ordinarily freak Fish out, but he knew it was the dog.

Oh. Right.

Somehow, he got the magical ability to talk to dogs. Well that was weird, but Fish was too tired to figure out why or how this happened.

He groaned, slowly opening his eyes to see a three dogs standing above him, getting more excited when he showed signs of wakefulness.

"See! I told you he's awake!" one dog yowled.

"That's because you licked him," said the first dog.

Did Lake give these dogs names? Fish should ask her. Or... er... he could ask the dogs.

"Okay, okay, I'm waking up," Fish mumbled when the dogs continued to fuss and lick him. And through it all, he laughed - because of the absurdity of the situation, or because it was just plain comical, he honestly didn't know.

He felt weirdly energized though. A night out in the wilderness surprisingly gave him one of the best sleeps of his life. He could hear his dad at the back of his mind going, "See, I told ya, son. All you need is a little time outdoors."

The dogs continued to fuss at him about food and pets and being overall glad that he could talk to him, which again, felt comical, but also... good. He couldn't really explain it.

"Alright, let's start the day, huh?" he said under his breath as he got on his feet and stretched his arms, his hands reaching the ceiling of the dome that Lake built... somehow. They never really addressed any of this.

Fish glanced at Lake, noticing that she was sprawled on the ground with the blankets simultaneously being piled around her and tossed everywhere. They weren't particularly in a big place, so with all the blankets, it basically covered all the snow on the ground. It was like they really made a home here.

Fish could tell that she was deeply sleeping, especially since she was breathing heavily. Instead his gaze naturally fell to Rain. At first he squinted at her since she was sitting upright against the icy wall, and he flinched when he realized that her eyes were open. She had been awake the whole time.

"Geez, how long have you been awake?" Fish murmured to her.

He straighted up and cleared his throat when he realized that he had a deeper morning voice. He didn't want to accidentally conjure up magic, which he had done an embarrassing amount of times in the morning.

"I mean, uh. Good morning?" he said instead.

"Morning," she replied, offering a small, tired smile.

Fish stretched some more, finally giving in to petting the dogs when they started to wail at him. Now that he could understand them, their pleas were too cute to ignore.

He walked towards his giant stash of stuff, ruffling around the bag to see what goodies he'd find. Not that he'd find anything new. Even if it seemed that he was packed for a year, it always seemed like there wasn't enough food... or at least, food options. He was getting tired of eating oats and granola.

Fish picked up a granola bar from the bag. "Hungry?" he asked her, but tossed it to her anyways.

Rain looked at where it'd stopped a few inches from her thigh for a long moment, before she slowly nodded and reached for it. She cracked open the package and asked "how'd you sleep?" before taking a bite.

Fish was already munching on his own granola bar. Two of them at the same time, in fact. It tasted a lot better if they were mixed together.

"Pretty good. What about you?" he asked with a mouthful of granola.

"It was whatever." Rain shrugged.

"It's a lot comfier than I thought it'd be." He patted the snowy ground that the blankets covered. "Nature's mattress, huh?"

Man. He sounded just like his dad right now. Fish couldn't help but crinkle his nose at his own words.

"Something like that."

Fish gobbled up the rest of the granola bars and stood up with too much gusto, suddenly feeling energized. Maybe it was the sleep, or maybe it was the dogs begging him to play. But man, Fish was feeling extra motivated.

So today, he was going to make everyone breakfast.

Lake woke to the smell of bacon grease, mixed with onions and potatoes. Still stirring to full consciousness, she rolled over and took in a deep breath as she stretched out her arms and legs, curling backward like a cat doing a big stretchy. Her sleeping bag shifted away as she pushed herself up at her elbows, peering through strands of long hair that had fallen out of her braid in her sleep.

She couldn't quite register everything around her, as her vision was still bleary. At least, until there was a sudden clank of iron, which made her jump.

"Rise 'n shine, Lake!" Fish said in a way-too-chipper voice, still clanking the iron.

Squinting, Lake groaned.

"Why're'ya talking so loud?" she mumbled, sitting up, rubbing her eyes.

"What'd you say?" Fish said even louder, finally halting the clanks.

Lake let out a heavy sigh as she pushed her hair out of her face and looked around their little campsite. The fire was still going, and Fish was holding a cast iron pan over it with a heavy metal spatula. Likely the source of the unpleasant noise. In the pan, there was a mix of bacon strips sizzling next to carmelized onions and crispy, browned potatoes.

Suddenly, Lake was very hungry.

"How long were you cooking?" she asked.

"Since sun o'clock," Fish said with a grin and a smirk.

Lake looked up around their icy shelter. Behind the sheet of semi-transparent ice, she could see the light of the sun shining through. Further down, past the dogs, she could see the rays of light peeking in more directly. Some of the dogs had found a spot of light to curl up in, and they looked comfortable and content. At peace, even.

Well, if the sun was out, that meant Rain was okay.

Right?

Maybe?

She looked around, spotting Rain sitting across the aisle from where she'd left her -- but absolutely looking like she hadn't slept at all, despite the change in position. She gave a tired smile and a nod. "Morning."

Lake mustered a small smile.

"Morning," she said, and then caught a whiff of her breath.

Ew. Morning breath. Morning mouth taste, too. Blegh, she was dehydrated.

Grabbing for her water bottle on the ground closeby, she started chugging to overcompensate, and then ripped it away with an obnoxious "ah."

"Thanks for making breakfast, Fish," she said, deciding to keep it positive. The last thing they needed was another anxiety fest.

"Yeah, no prob, bob," Fish said distractedly as he turned the bacon. "Did you sleep alright?"

Lake's eyes drifted to Rain, but she didn't hesitate to answer.

"Uh, I slept alright, I guess," Lake said, scratching the back of her head. "Would've slept better if you didn't snore like the King of the Wild Hogs over here."

Fish raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't snore," he said defensively.

"My assaulted ears would beg to differ," Lake said.

"Bro, I don't know how you didn't wake yourself up with that chain-saw sounding nonsense."

"You should ask the dogs what they think about your snoring," Lake said. "If you don't trust my word on it."

Fish squinted at them full of skepticism, then slowly turned to face the dogs. "You hearing this nonsense?" he muttered to them.

Big Guy, the fluffiest, biggest dog wagged his tail and trotted over to Fish, excitedly barking, but then leaned in and snatched the bacon out of his spatula.

"Hey! That's not what I asked you! That's not yours!" Fish (ironically) barked back, pulling the bacon back until it became a game of tug of war.

Fish, of course, lost. Unless you counted crumbs as a win.

"These dogs, I swear..." Fish mumbled while shaking his head, crouching over to now protect his food even though no other dog came for more bacon.

Lake snorted a laugh.

"Okay, but what'd they say about your snoring, though?" Lake said, not letting it go.

"They said I don't snore," Fish said right away. A few dogs barked back, and Fish stuck their tongue out at them.

Lake looked to Rain, and they both shared a look™ that read: "can you believe this guy?" And: "yes, unfortunately I can."

Lake shrugged and waved her hands in the air as if that was a suitable transition away from the Hog Man, the Blowhorn, the Train That Won't Stop Chugging.

"Well, I slept good," Fish said with his own swish of his hand. "And breakfast's ready. So, bone apple tea."

"Bone app the teeth," Lake said with a nod as she ripped a paper plate out of the pack beside the fire and greedily gestured for Fish to serve her, since he was the one holding the pan and spatula anyway.

"Here you go, princess," Fish said with a snort, giving her a heaping serving. "You hungry, Rain?"

Lake was already scooping bacon into her mouth as she looked to Rain, who rocked forward to her knees to also grab a plate and hold out to him. "Always."

"Annnd plop," Fish said as he served another heaping serving on her plate. "Make sure to give me a five out of five Yelp rating after this."

"We'll see how it tastes first..."

"4/5 on da bacon," Lake said with her mouth full. "You lose a star for waking me with clanking sounds."

"Maybe I had to wake you up 'cause you snore. Ever think about that?" Fish sneered.

Lake turned to the dogs, gesturing wildly.

"Do I snore?" she asked pointedly.

"They say yes," Fish said flatly, mouth full of bacon.

"You are an unreliable translator," Lake shot back, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Correction, I'm the only translator. So that makes me reliable and unreliable."

"That is fully not how it works," Rain interjected, but was mostly fixated on her plate.

"Yeah, says you," Fish scoffed then threw a piece of bacon towards the dogs. Dash jumped up to grab it.

"Stop giving them human food," Lake scolded. "You're spoiling them."

The dogs looked at Fish expectantly. Fish stared at them back, hesitating. "Okay, but... it's kinda hard to say no."

"They're never going to respect you if they just see you as a talking vending machine," Lake said flatly.

"I'd like to think that they see me as their doggie ruler."

Lake scoffed and then threw another piece of bacon in her mouth.

"Yeah, right," Lake said through chews. "They might tease you and lick your face but they're not gonna obey you. Trust me. My sister's the same way with them, and they run right over her. They're smart - they know when they can get away with things because certain people will let them."

Fish seemed to mull this over, chewing more slowly and looking more deep in thought. He talked again after he took a few moments to finally chew his food and swallow. Lake seized his moment of silence to start chowing down further as well.

"So is this... like, is this just going to be my life now? Being able to talk to dogs? Befriend them but not befriend them too much that they won't listen? What, am I supposed to be a dog trainer like you now? This is all too random and doesn't make any sense."

"I mean, who says you can only talk to dogs?" Lake said. "When we get outside you should see if you can hear anything the birds are saying."

Fish almost looked horrified at the thought. "So you're saying... maybe I could talk to all animals? Oh dear Cheva." He started to stuff his face with more food.

"What's that one guy from that super old movie that got rebooted about the guy who could talk to animals?" Lake said, still through a mouthfull of food. "Dr. Doobie?"

"Dr. Doolittle," Fish corrected, but then cringed at the thought. "I am not--"

"That's your new nickname now," Lake declared.

Fish let out a long, defeated sigh. "Yeah, of course it is," he muttered.

"Maybe we could combine Fish and Doolittle," Lake pondered out loud. "Foolittle. Fish..."

"Dr Fishlittle," Rain offered.

"Dr. Doofish?" Lake suggested.

"Doofensmirtz evil incorporateeeed," Rain sang. "Dr. Dufus."

Fish rolled his eyes, staring at them unamused. "Har, har. If that's my superhero name, then yours is probably as equally dumb."

"What are heros with weather powers?" Lake hummed.

"Dr. Equally Dumb doesn't really roll off the tongue, though, Dr. Dufus," Rain said, scratching her chin.

"Dr... I mean, I guess you don't have to have a doctorate to be a hero," Lake muttered under her breath.

"Lake, what's even your new power? Making igloos?" Fish asked.

Lake blinked.

"What, you mean me?" she asked, staring at him blankly.

"No, I was talking to Big Guy," Fish said sarcastically. "Yeah, you."

Lake hesitated, looking down at her already empty plate.

She was still hungry.

"I don't know..." she said slowly. "Maybe I didn't get one."

Rain leaned up against the rock face that Lake had insisted on climbing. She supposed it was nice to be back on the road. It was cold. And miserable. And she was beyond exhausted. But at least now she had the false hope of forward progress. The sooner they got there and verified that Cheva was a myth, the sooner they could go home.

Well.

Rain probably shouldn't go home.

But she'd decided to will herself to be emotionally stable for the rest of the trip. And if it got too much, then running was always an option, then or now. And with any luck, her powers would fade again when they got nearer to home so it'd be safe for her to go back.

She didn't know. She was actively trying not to think about it, because that upset her, and her being upset was dangerous now.

She looked over at Fish, who was wrestling his boot with Big Guy. Fish kept mumbling at him to let it go and that his boots were not a toy. After some moments of pushing and pulling, Big Guy finally let go of the boot, sending Fish backwards so he landed on the snow on his butt.

"Yeah, so obedient. Such good dogs," he mumbled under his breath as slipped his shoe back on and turned away from Big Guy, who was happily sitting with his tail wagging back and forth.

"Did the puppy hurt your feelings?" Rain asked with a smirk.

"No, just my laces." He sighed as lifted up the frayed ends.

"Tough break." Rain looked at the slimy dog-drool covered ends. She didn't envy having to deal with that. "How'd he even get it off your foot in the first place?"

"Hey look," Fish began as he whirled around to give her a look that was as defensive as his voice. "I was tying my shoes, okay? And the guy is big! He's literally named Big Guy!"

Rain snorted in amusement. "So big. So guy."

Fish huffed. "Much muscles."

"Well, at least you stopped getting bullied by the puppy. Good job." Rain glanced around. She supposed it'd be pretty up here if she wasn't so pissy and frozen clear through to the bone.

Fish finished tying up his boot then clumsily stood back up, brushing off the snow from his coat and pants. "And looks like you stopped bullying the weather. Go us?"

Rain glared at him. She wasn't bullying the weather. If anything, she was the victim here. Completely terrified of the weather. "The weather is bullying me."

"Uh huh, Miss I-can-shoot-lightning-from-my-fingertips," Fish continued sarcastically, not noticing her glare or rising hostility in her voice.

She clenched her fists, progressively more agitated. Was he trying to provoke her into bringing a thunderstorm to, quite literally, rain down upon them? Because he was rapidly on his way. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her temper. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe this was nature's way of saying she needed to chill out and stop being so volatile with her emotions.

"Holy shit! A BEAR!" Fish suddenly yelled, pointing with wide eyes at the sled behind them.

"Uh huh, sure." Rain rolled her eyes. Classic Fish, to bring middle school energy to the table. She added mockingly, "'Made you look'."

But Fish wouldn't stop staring and pointing, panic becoming obvious in his voice. "No, really. A... A freakin' BEAR! What do we do? Where's Lake?" He glanced up the rocks that Lake was climbing to get a better view. "Lake! LAKE!"

Rain sighed, annoyed, and rolled her eyes again. Was he really going to drag Lake into his stupid shenanigans right now? When she was trying to get them on path so they didn't die? Oh, no. We had to pretend that there was a bear. Fine. She'd deal with the 'made you look' guffaw to appease him. She turned towards where he was pointing. She yelped in surprise and stumbled backward, sheer terror coursing through her veins in an instant as she realized that he was, in fact, being serious.

A giant, ten-foot polar bear with grizzled fur was snooping through their stuff. There was a big hole on the side of their pack and items littered the side.

Well, not just items.

Jerky. Specifically, jerky. The bear had found the jerky.

And it was coming for more.

At Fish's yells, the bear turned around and faced Fish specifically, threatening but also... curious. Like it was confused by him. Or his words.

Dark clouds swept in over them in an instant, covering the sun and making things much darker and seem that much more ominous than they had. What did they do? It wasn't like Lake was going to be able to do anything about a bear. Three on one wasn't any better than two on one. If anything, she should use the opportunity to run while she could.

And then a thought struck her.

Fish.

Her powers were all over the place, but maybe, just maybe, if he could talk to dogs it meant he could talk to other animals, too. She smacked at his arm harder than she meant to him. "TALK TO HIM!"

Talk to him. Talk to him? Talk to a bear?!

Fish took a step back, the panic wrapping around his chest and making him breathe even faster. What else could they do? Run? No, they needed the sled, and they couldn't just leave Lake like that.

This was a bad idea. Fish knew this trip was a bad idea. Oh no no no no no.

"I'm not going to talk to a bear," Fish said more quietly this time, but loud enough to be snippy so Rain could hear. "We need to -- to -- I don't know, get Lake, or, um..." He glanced up towards the sky. It was getting unnaturally dark. "Rain, you're not, uh, you're not controlling the... the...? Are you?"

"TALK TO HIM!" she repeated in an urgent, panicked whisper, hitting him again. "It's not like the weather is going to help us."

Fish was pushed ahead again, but for every one step forward he took two scurried steps back. "I just don't think that talking to a--"

"Why can I understand human?" the bear grumbled loudly, like he was talking to himself.

"HOLY SMOKES, I really can...!" Fish yelped, panickedly scurrying again until he was hiding behind Rain.

The bear seemed pleasantly surprised, and he snorted and took a step closer. At least now he was no longer snooping through their stuff. "Explain."

Fish looked at Rain. Rain seemed entirely unhappy to be in the front, closest to the approaching death fluff coming their way.

Fish was no hero, and he wasn't the bravest one out of the group. If anything, he was probably the biggest coward. Always hiding behind his dad, obediently following into his footsteps while tagging along with his friends. He wasn't equipped for this.

And it seemed ridiculous, yes. But he knew that Rain's growing fear would only bring more troublesome weather, and they couldn't afford to lose the sled. And if Lake were here... well, she'd know what to do. But she wasn't here. It was up to him, for once.

Slowly, Fish pried his hands away from Rain's shoulders and stepped out into view, trying not to show the panic and fear that was so evident moments ago.

"Magic," he said weakly, his voice breaking. Fish cringed and tried again, this time holding up his palms into jazz hands. "Magic," he repeated in a much deeper voice. A toot of smoke came out of his palms.

Well, okay. He at least tried to conjure a flame. He never said he was perfect or good at it. Nevertheless, he went with it, the smoke wafting up in the air as he painfully smiled at the bear, not knowing what else to say.

"What mean 'magic'?" the bear asked, taking yet another step closer, though he seemed a bit less hostile. Though still terrifying.

"All humans have magic. My magic is to talk to animals like you," Fish said simply. "I, uh... Mr. Bear, we mean you no harm. So if we can just... you know..." He trailed off, glancing between the bear and the giant hole of the bag he left behind on the sled.

"Me Gavin. Me hungry."

"Gavin. Yes. Of course that's your name. Very lovely," Fish said as he glanced at Rain for validation, feeling like he was going insane. "My name is Fish."

Two seconds later, he realized that was a very stupid thing to say after a bear literally said he was hungry.

"I mean, uh-- no, that's not my name. I meant to say that I can fish. For you, of course, since you're hungry. My name is Gilson. Who would name their kid Fish? That's crazy. Ha ha... hah."

Rain was fully hiding behind Fish now, and once glance back, and Fish could see that she was looking at him like he was absolutely insane. Fantastic.

"Mm," Gavin grunted, unimpressed. "You give me food."

"But -- but -- well, you see, Gavin... We need food too," Fish said pathetically, the panic finally getting to him.

But Gavin was still not impressed, taking another step towards him and appearing even more threatening.

"But! BUT!" Fish began, adrenaline kicking in as he took a step back with Rain. "What if I tell you that you can have magic too? Yeah, it's better than food. Some magic lets you have infinite food. That'd be better, right?"

"Why are you promising him magic?" Rain grumbled under her breath.

"I don't know man, I'm trying to save our lives here," Fish said even more lowly through his teeth, his mouth not moving as he kept his eyes on Gavin advancing forward.

"How give 'magic'?" Gavin asked.

Fish was so glad that he had played enough video games that he could make up a fantasy on the spot.

"First, do you know of Cheva?" he asked first to buy him enough time to formulate a plan.

"Cheva no food. Give food."

Okay, so Gavin had one brain cell. This may be easier that he thought.

"Cheva is the god of food and the god of the land. She gives us magic and gives us food. She has blessed us to give gifts to nature. So if you go through our bag and pick out one non-food item... that item will bless you too. It will give you infinite food. Understand?" Fish said, mustering up all the charisma he had in him to get this stupid plan to work.

He only hoped that Gavin didn't take his sleeping bag.

"It's true!" Big Guy yelled out, which prompted the other dogs to cheer on as well.

"We have been blessed with many snacks!"

"Worth much more than a thousand fish!"

"Magic is great!"

Huh. These dogs were able to pick up on Fish's lie. They were a lot smarter than he thought.

"See?" Fish said to Gavin. "We give gifts to all animals. Including you. So go on. Take an item and be blessed by magic."

Gavin snorted again and looked back at the pack skeptically. "No food, become food?"

"No food to get food!" Big Guy barked back. "Worth it."

"Get food." Gavin snuffled towards the bag again, peering inside.

"What item calls out to you the most? That's your magically blessed item," Fish, quite frankly, bullshitted.

"Magic. Food." Gavin leaned down with his snout. When he came up again he had the book in his teeth.

Oh Cheva. The book. The book that started out this whole journey. If Gavin took it... oh god, Lake would lose it.

"Oh. Hah. Funny thing about that book... can you take another item? See, that's, uh, that's my magic item. And you can have your own. So if you can just take another one..."

"Evem betterer mine nows," Gavin grunted past the book, then turned and sprinted away on all fours.

"No, Gavin, wait!" Fish said as he took a step forward, but it was too late. Gavin was sprinting through the snow.

"Nice!" Big Guy yelled out.

"You did it!"

"Can we have magic item too?"

"That doesn't exist, doofus."

"Can we have treat then?"

MFish tuned the dog's voices out of his head and slowly, so slowly, turned around to face Rain.

"You gave him our book?" Rain shouted, hitting him again. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Hey! At least he didn't eat us!" Fish huffed. He glanced up the rocks, knowing that Lake was up there somewhere. He wondered if she saw any of this happen.

"Well, Lake is gonna kill us now," Rain huffed, following his gaze.

"Here's what we're going to do," he said with a newfound determination as he pointed at the sled. "We're going to fix up the sled, say that a rock caught onto it, and we didn't realize until we lost some items. Then we're never going to speak a word of this to Lake. Got it?"

From the view atop the icy rock face, Lake could see over the tops of the towering snow-covered pines. Looking downhill, she could see the trees cradling the now distant town behind them. Still void of any artificial light, she took in a deep breath, watching as little puffs of smoke came out of her nose like the billowing tendrils coming out of the chimneys in the far-off, silhouetted homes.

Still left with no power, she wondered how many days Chevan would be plunged into darkness. With their few hours of daylight so far south of the equator in this never-ending winter, they were well acquainted with life without light, but life without warmth was far less bearable. Hopefully, everyone was making it by alright.

Just a day ago, her magic had been terrifyingly unreliable. Now her, Rain, and Fish seemed to have magic oozing out of them near-uncontrollably.

Of course, she hadn't quite had any terror-filled magic moments like Rain and Fish, but she could feel that something was different.

The last few times she'd used magic, it was like there was this undercurrent of energy just ready to burst out of her. She tried everything she could to restrain it and push it back because truthfully, the thought of her magic's potential exponentially increasing scared her too, and if Rain could control the weather, and Fish could talk to animals, she didn't know what the world had in store for her.

Lake's gaze traveled back to the town.

She wondered if, apart from the three of them, everyone had lost their magic by now.

Or was everyone else suddenly burdened with too-powerful magic too? She wasn't sure which was worse.

Shaking her head, she determined to keep her head on straight.

They were going to find Cheva, and... hopefully, she'd help make sense out of all of this. And hopefully...

Lake looked over to Lake Chevan. From here, she could see the snow-covered, icy expanse that spread out for miles. Cradled by glaciers long since settled into the frozen still waters, it seemed calm. Peaceful.

If they made it to the lake, it wouldn't be much further.

Taking in one last deep breath, Lake settled her eyes on the base of the glaciers, feeling a strange sensation in her gut. It was as if the glaciers were calling to her. Drawing her closer. They were calling her to hurry.

Cheva was calling her to hurry.

The wind rushed past them, threatening - with the harshness of winter - to bite through her clothes. It seemed that this wind wasn't affected by Rain's mood, since it came and went as it pleased, but when it did push up against their sled, and it kept coming from the south. Like an extra shove towards the lake, the wind kept coming, adding fuel to their already fast-moving sled.

Like a bullet, they shot through the thick snow. The dogs seemed a little skittish after their last stop, but eager to get moving, and were going at full speed. Though they couldn't quite see the edge of the snow-covered frozen waters yet, Lake knew the direction. Expertly (glad that she was seasoned in dogsledding because of her brother, who dragged her into it many many a time), she navigated the dogs through some tricky spots, weaving them through the tall pines and over slopes of snow. It was a little rough on the passengers, but they hung on just fine, sitting in the front portion of the sled with their hoods over their heads.

Occasionally, Rain would look up and send Lake something akin to a glare, but Rain had been fading in and out in as they got into the afternoon, and the sun had already started to dip into the horizon. Exhaustion, though it didn't dampen the sharpness of her gaze, did seem to dampen her spirits - of which, she never had much, to begin with.

As for Fish, well... he was hanging in there. But he seemed more anxious than usual (if such a thing were even possible), and kept avoiding eye contact with Lake.

Was it the weird magic?

Was it something she said last night that offended him more than she thought?

Was he just scared?

Or was it the trip as a whole?

She was tempted to press about it, but decided against it, and instead focused on navigation. As the person in charge of this whole trip, she had to make sure they made it to the Lake safely and made it to Cheva before...

Well, she didn't know before what, but there was an itch in her brain that kept telling her something would happen if they didn't get there soon. Something bad.

Thinking to herself, she wondered if that was her new magic thing. Could she see into the future now? Was she prophetic? Was she an oracle? Was she going to keep having dreams about the past and the future? That could get sticky, though. Magic that saw into the future always came with some serious relational drawbacks and almost always seemed to mess with the way things panned out.

Well, if that was the case, then she guessed she was in the same boat with Rain and Fish. She had a power she didn't want either.

Here's to hoping Cheva can help us. And if she can't help us, hopefully, she can at least help Chevan, her namesake.

Turning out into a clearing, Lake shouted.

"Woah!"

The dogs started to slow as the massive, seemingly endless lake stretched out before them. When the sled came to a solid stop, Lake stared at the horizon line - where pale white met white blue.

In the summers, when they used to have them, however short they used to be, the horizon used to be clear and crisp. Dark, cold waters against a cloudless sky. Now, it was pale, and almost imperceptible, like a mirage under the bright light of the sun. An endless horizon with an endless lake that led to nowhere.

And then her eyes fell on the glaciers lining the lake's edges. Tall and foreboding, they caught the fading light of the sunset with a beautiful array of mirrored orange and pink reflections across the ice.

They were so close.

"Uh... is that the lake?" Fish asked.

"No, it's the beach," Rain said flatly.

"Yeah," Lake said. "I'm Lake. That's not me."

"Thanks, very helpful," Fish said just as flatly staring at them as he sighed. "It's not thin, is it? Like we won't fall through?"

"Is that a fat joke?" Rain joked.

"I'm just saying, I don't wanna drown," Fish huffed back.

"Such high standards," Lake smirked.

Fish sighed again. "So we are going across it. Right? Or...?"

"Good guess."

"And it's not thin. Right?"

"Wanna find out?" Lake asked, but didn't let him respond before she shouted. "Hike!"

They started off onto the ice, flecks of snow flying up around them. The layer of snow over the ice was so thick that they didn't even hit the ice, but being the first and only ones out on this patch of "water" in a while, they carved in fresh tracks as they turned towards the glaciers.

Lake kept them going at a slower pace so they could keep an eye out for any clues - or anything that would resemble her dream. The only problem with that, though, was that only she knew what to look for.

With a "Woah!", the dogs came to a stop over the lake and she bent over the sled's handlebar and reached into her backpack, fishing for the book she'd "borrowed" from Fischer.

Ironically, she had to keep fishing. And fishing. And couldn't seem to find it.

"Huh," she said, elbow-deep in her backpack. "You guys haven't seen my book around, have you? I was thinking maybe it could help us know what to look for..."

Pursing her lips, she looked up at Fish, who put his hands up innocently.

"Don't look at me, I didn't take it. Why would I take it? It's not like it's mine anyway. Well, it's my dad's, but still. Not me."

Lake squinted.

Whenever Fish felt guilty he'd always find a bunch of excuses and do a bad job of lying. Something happened to the book. Lake squinted harder.

"What happened, Fish?" she asked pointedly.

"Nothing!" he said too innocently, then gestured toward Rain. "Right, Rain?"

Rain, taking after her father as an expert politician (though neither of them would ever admit it), shrugged nonchalantly, playing it cool. "Dunno."

Lake narrowed her eyes at Rain, but turned her piercing gaze back onto Fish, knowing he was always the one to break first.

"Come on Fish," she goaded. "What'd you do with the book? Did you lose it? Eat it? Use it as fire fuel?"

"No! No I didn't." Fish let out an exasperated sigh. "I didn't even touch it, you know."

"Are you sure you're checking the right pocket?" Rain asked.

"Yeah, maybe it's in there... somewhere," Fish added.

"Or maybe it's the last place you put it," Lake said, still burrowing her eyes into Fish's skull. "When was the last time you saw it?"

"The bag," Fish said instead. "That was the last place I saw it. So yeah, are you checking all the pockets? Wait, you know, I just thought of something. Maybe the book disappeared when we all got our magic. That seems more probable."

Lake could feel her annoyance building. She pressed her lips into a tight line.

"Fish," she said, her voice level. "Come on. You've been acting weird and all twitchy since our last stop at the lookout. Did something happen? Did you ditch the book just to spite me? Seriously, Fish. Why'd you trash it?"

"Whoa, now," Rain cut in. "That's some big accusations. No need to point fingers."

"No need to point fingers?" Lake said. "I'm not pointing fingers. You guys are the ones being weirdly evasive about a book. You guys think I don't know when you're lying to my face? I've known you guys since we were in diapers. Why are you guys lying to me about the book? Like, seriously, what gives?"

Fish started to squirm with all the tension in the air. He looked at Rain like he was trying to have a wordless conversation. "We just... can't bear to tell you," he said weakly like it was supposed to be a joke.

Rain snorted loudly and rolled her eyes. "You're so dumb."

Fish sighed again, accepting his defeat. He faced Lake this time, face more sober and serious.

"I'm sorry, Lake. A bear got into our bag and that was when I found out I can talk to all animals. I convinced Gavin the bear that random items in the bag were magical and that he should take that instead of all our food. I thought he'd grab a fork or something, not the book. I don't know what a bear would even do with a book. Is he going to learn how to read now or what?"

Lake stared at him for several delayed seconds until she finally blinked slowly, taking all of that in.

"A... bear," she said, working through both syllables like molasses in her mouth.

Fish chuckled nervously. "His name was Gavin and he was a giant."

"You're serious?"

"See, this is why we didn't want to tell you. It sounds so stupid," Fish grumbled.

"How do bears even know the name Gavin?"

"I don't know! Why can I talk to bears and dogs?"

Lake brought her hand to her face, shaking her head.

"I don't know, Fish!" she huffed. "But- but you just- you gave away our map to a bear!"

"...as opposed to...?" Rain said. "Like, yeah, it sucks. But, like... better lose a map than our lives, no?"

"Gavin probably wanted to eat me!" Fish said as a weak defense. "He probably thought I was a fish!"

Lake let out a groan, giving a longsuffering look to the empty blue sky.

"A bear dug through our stuff. And instead of just telling me like normal people. You covered it up," she muttered.

"Yes, do tell us how rational you are immediately after facing a bear," Rain muttered.

"Yeah, okay, but that happened. I don't think the book would tell us where to go anyways." Fish gestured across the icy lake. "So can we keep going now? I feel like standing out here in the middle of a frozen lake is not the greatest idea."

"Technically we're sitting," Rain said.

"Thanks," Fish said in a monotone voice.

Lake let out a long, long sigh as she looked out over the lake. Without the book and all the maps and hints in it, she was relying solely on her memory. She tried picturing the maps she'd stared at for some time, but it wasn't like she'd had the maps for years or anything. She'd only really looked at them in the past, what, 48 hours?

Ignoring Fish and Rain, Lake leaned on the handle of the sled and studied the glaciers. It was hard to decipher much when everything was white and blue and blended together, but they had to be something.

She stood there for a good minute or two, just searching. She was coming up empty, but then, she saw... an opening.

At the base of one of the far-off glaciers. It was small, and she'd almost missed it, but it stood out when there was a sudden bright flash of light inside, like when you looked a far-off mirror at just the right angle so that it caught the light and flashed it back at you.

The silence was a little uncomfortable.

Fish usually avoided drama pretty easily, but mostly because he just removed himself from the situation any time there was tension. He couldn't exactly do that right now, especially since they were traveling across an icy lake right next to each other.

He got that Lake was upset about the book, but at the same time, it felt like no big deal. Even if he'd have told the truth right away, she would have still been upset since they were out here because of the book. She didn't even know that he and Rain only decided to come because they wanted to support her. He doubted anything would come from this, so losing the book was actually a blessing.

But there was no winning with Lake sometimes. When her mind was set on something, she could be fiercely stubborn.

The silence felt too long, and Fish was tired of exchanging "huh?" and "what now?" glances with Rain. He squirmed uncomfortably, noticing that Lake was still looking out towards the horizon. Maybe thinking.

"So... we'll be moving soon, right?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Lake said distantly, straightening up. Something in her voice still held the tension of things unsaid.

She gripped the hand-rail of the sled and adjusted her feet, eyes set on some point in the distance.

Fish tried to follow her glance. He wasn't sure he followed, but he trusted her. Honestly, probably too much. He almost died from a bear and now he may just die from this possibly thin lake.

"To the other side of the lake, or...?" he added.

"I think I see an opening," Lake said vaguely and unhelpfully.

"Like a cave?"

"Can it be called a cave if it's made of ice?" Lake asked.

"...An igloo?" Fish corrected half-confidently.

"Ice cave," Lake said with a nod, as if more to herself.

"Are we going to camp in there?"

"Maybe. Let's check it out," Lake said, nearly cutting herself off as she shouted "Hike!" right after.

Fish sighed, watching his breath condense into the air. He turned to Rain, giving her a tired look.

Maybe with the book gone, they could now start to talk some sense to Lake.