They entered Emberwood proper a few hours later. The ranger must have slowed her pace, for Arn wasn't nearly as exhausted as before. Arn didn't differentiate much between trees - not beyond their size and some of the other obvious features. But even he noticed a shift upon crossing the boundary into this particular forest. The trunks were darker, nearly black. Few branches lay upon the forest's floor. The wind had little sway over the pines, for they hardly moved even when it gusted and blew in earnest.

Their bark was smooth, shiny even. It reflected the rays of the sun at times, unlike any wood he'd ever seen before. At length, they reached a rocky face that rose high and nearly vertical. It must have been several hundred feet tall, for the top was barely visible. They followed it for a time until a narrow passage opened up just ahead.

The passage was wide enough for a carriage, though its walls rose all the way to the top of the rocky face, so tall that they seemed to meet above their heads. Arn craned his neck as they approached.

"Watch where you're going. I will keep an eye over our heads," Ekalin said.

The passage was littered with small broken rocks, each of which could turn an ankle. Arn followed her instructions, though the place was beginning to weigh on him, and the hairs on his neck stood. He trusted the ranger, she was as at home in the wilderness as any beast, but this passage unnerved him all the same. He looked ahead at the narrow slit of light. All was silent, and still, no wind blew, and no sound could be heard.

None but an echo of a distant croak, a raven's call somewhere far off.

Ekalin turned back to Arn, gave him a curious glance, and then returned her attention to the passage ahead and the space above them.

What was that? He wondered, then remembered her earlier words and the implied knowledge of his past, which he didn't plan on revealing to her.

Did he talk about ravens while passed out in her hut? He desperately hoped that he remained silent but could think of no way to ask without arousing her suspicion.

And what was it with the ravens, really? He'd barely noticed them in the past, and now they're everywhere.

The light ahead grew wider with each step, and soon the passage ended, revealing a large valley full of broken black trunks and large pieces of strange rocks, also black.

"Well, we're here," she said.

"What is this place called?" Arn asked; his eyes took in the valley and its sheer rock walls and the mountains which loomed tall in the distance.

"Better that you don't know. I doubt you'll find it on your own, and without the name, I feel quite comfortable bringing you here," she replied.

"Is this a secret?"

"Of sorts," she said.

"Then why did you bring me here?" he asked, despite hearing the hints of irritation in her voice.

"I am not sure," Ekalin replied, and Arn noted the genuine surprise that her words carried. "The emberwood in this valley is quite special. It burns in any environment, and if lit with a firestarter, it will burn long enough to count as eternal."

"Eternal fire? That sounds unbelievable," Arn replied.

"Just a few pieces, and you'll never need to look for firewood in all your journeys. You can only pick up pieces from the ground, though I doubt you have the means to cut them off the trees. Pick three pieces about the size of your fist; that will be enough. No more, you hear?"

"Yes," Arn agreed.

"Good. Now go on, and watch out, you can twist an ankle or a neck around here, and I don't have the means to fix the latter."

Arn nodded and headed off towards the black trunks and branches just ahead. Mountains blocked the sun and much of its light, casting the valley into perpetual dusk. Snow clung to the rocks in places and left them bare in others.

"Look on the ground!" Ekalin yelled to him.

He jumped, nearly fell, then focused on the ground. Most of the pieces were either large chunks or long branches. He tried to break one, about the width of a thumb, but the wood barely gave an inch no matter how hard he pushed.

It'll have to be an already broken piece, he realized.

Another croak echoed somewhere high above. Arn resisted the urge to look for the source.

"Hurry up!" she yelled.

Do I walk carefully, or do I hurry? He thought. Is she afraid of ravens?

Arn moved ever farther from the narrow passage and finally saw pieces of the emberwood that were the correct size. He picked up one, then another, and then the third. At last, he thought.

A thundering clap boomed and echoed throughout the valley. Moments later, it was followed by the now familiar deep rumbling. Arn's heart lurched. Not again!

"Run back!" Ekalin yelled, "run back to the passage! Run!"

He glanced up one of the mountains just as a massive wall of snow tumbled down towards him. Arn clutched the emberwood and ran back towards the ranger. He cursed the rocky terrain that slowed him down but did nothing to hinder the avalanche.

Ekalin had reached the passage herself and watched him with horror in her eyes. He ran as fast as he could. Don't look back, he told himself. But he did.

The avalanche was gaining fast; he wasn't going to make it this time. His father wasn't there to stop it. Arn chuckled bitterly at the last conversation they had.

What a waste, he thought. Even if it were hopeless, he'd still run, do his best; he would commit to that much at least.

What is she doing?

Ekalin bolted towards him; she discarded her bag at the entrance to the passage and ran flat out towards Arn. He yelled at her, but the rumbling swallowed his words, and he doubted that she'd listen even if she heard him.

The ranger waved him to the left, towards one of the large black rocks next to the valley's walls. She ran like the wind, gliding over the uneven terrain without a hint of doubt.

He glanced back. He could make it to the rocks that she pointed out; he was close enough.

But when he reached the formation, he saw that it didn't quite angle right, not enough to shelter them from the avalanche. Ekalin charged in front of him and nearly sandwiched Arn against the black rock wall.

His back and head hit the stone, and the world flashed; pain shot through him. The rumbling intensified. Ekalin put forth her arms, sweat pouring from her like water. Waves of heat washed over Arn.

"No," he whispered, images of his father flashing before his eyes, "why?"

A massive wave of hard snow crashed against the rock with an earth-shattering boom. It flowed around - straight at Ekalin and himself. The wave of snow hit an invisible wall, not more than a foot in front of the ranger.

The impact pushed Arn against the rock once more, knocking the wind out of him this time. Ekalin dropped to her knee and grunted with effort as the snow piled up high. The world spun, he found himself on the ground watching the wall of packed snow rise above them.

The rumbling grew ever more intense, and with it the ranger's efforts, until she let out a bone shuddering growl which near enough matched the avalanche.

Then all stopped in a flash. Ekalin braced herself against the rock by his side. Her chest heaved quickly, her hair matted and wet against her face. Arn's world stopped spinning. His heart pumped though he did nothing but sit, slumped against the rock, nearly knocked out by the blowback alone.

"You can never let anyone know about this," she whispered breathlessly.

"Just like my dad…."

The ranger's back stiffened, she turned towards Arn. "What?"

"Just like - like at the pass. The horses ran, and a loud boom," he whispered, his eyes stared out at the snow.

The ranger watched him, saying nothing. Her breath was slowly returning to normal.

"He told me to run," Arn continued, "I wanted to stay, but he told me to run."

Arn looked at Ekalin. Her skin glistened from sweat. She'd just saved his life. Again, someone had to save his life. She could do what his father could, so she'd be in the same type of danger from the Inspectorate.

Will she tell me to run away too? He wondered. He looked up at the sky just as yet another croak echoed in the distance.

"I hate ravens," he muttered.

"What?" the ranger asked.

"Ravens," he said, "I keep seeing and hearing them all over the place, in my dreams even." Arn flinched; he didn't intend to reveal the last part.

Ekalin looked at him curiously but said nothing at first.

"What happened with your father - the truth now," she fixed him with a glare that broached nothing but the truth. He realized that he had no choice; he'd told her half of it already.

"The truth," he said and nodded. "He saved them; that's why he stayed. They never listened, and, and..." Arn stopped. A ball formed in his throat; he swallowed hard, took a few deep breaths, and the tension lessened.

"He stood between them and the avalanche," Arn continued, "whatever you did, he did too and stopped it."

"The whole avalanche?" Ekalin replied, her eyes widened slightly.

"The snow split, half went one way, half the other, all around them like a giant snow crater," Arn said.

Ekalin held his gaze for a long moment, then looked at the rock they both leaned on. "He was in the open?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Lies," she hissed.

"What?" Arn yelled, surprising both of them. How dare she doubt him after all this, after he'd opened up to her?

"You're lying," she said flatly.

"I'm not lying!" Arn held up his fists, "my father stood out in the open, and the snow around him melted, and steam rose, and it happened exactly as I told you!"

She turned towards him once again, her eyes narrowing.

"I ran away, to a rocky hill, but I still felt a pressure - I don't know what it was -" Arn continued.

Ekalin shot towards him, and her hand clamped over his mouth. He tasted the salty sweat and dirt on her skin. He tried to shove it away, but it wouldn't budge. Her face was inches from his, eyes burned, their green cores sharp against the violet.

"Shut up," she hissed, spittle hitting his face. Then, her intensity faltered, and her hand against his mouth loosened. "Never tell this to anyone again. Neither your father's actions nor mine. Especially not mine!" she whispered.

Arn nodded; Ekalin took her hand off and sat back against the rock wall. Arn wiped his face.

"I should have known," she said, looking at the distant sky above them. "When a booming voice sounded in the forest and led me to a nearly dead child, what did I expect?"

Ekalin chuckled softly and shook her head. She remained quiet for some time after; Arn dared not interrupt her.

"You can't go to the capital, Arn," she finally said.

"What? Why?"

"You can't set foot in that place, in any large town, nowhere near the Inspectorate."

"Why? I did nothing!" he protested.

She laughed. Her laughter, though bitter, rang like a clear bell among a cacophony of hideous noise. "That isn't how the Inspectorate operates. You're close enough, or bait, or both."

"So what am I supposed to do then?" he asked.

"Go south to Kadam, better yet to East Kadam."

"I can't just," he trailed off. "I don't even know where that is; I've never been outside of Osha'aland."

"You're not playing anymore. This isn't a game. You will never be completely safe; at least in East Kadam, you might find allies," her voice carried a tone of sadness with it that Arn hadn't heard earlier. A hopeless sort of sadness that had to be born because it would never go away.

"What are you saying? What allies? I am not fighting anyone! I just want to go back to normal," Arn sensed that she was right. Something deep in him agreed with her - but another part wished to return to the before, to his home, and forget all that happened.

"Some paths lead only in one direction," she said.