“How do you know this?” said Padraig. “Intuition? Or have you a ship’s compass under your cloak?”

“The path has curved southwards,” he said. “It was gradual, so we didn’t notice without the setting sun to confirm our orientation. I think we really are lost.”

“If this is true, then we have no choice but to rest,” said Farris. “We should find shelter from this storm and start a fire if we can.”

“I suggest we reconsider,” said Padraig.

“You have lost your right to reconsider!” roared Farris. “We have lost our way, Captain Tuathil, and you may very well have led us to our death!”

“There’s no need for that,” cut in Aislinn. “Things may not be that dire. If we work together, perhaps we can find—”

“A better guide? I think a dowsing rod will serve a better guide than this buffoon.”

Padraig scoffed, but he didn’t have much more of a follow-up. Fionn reckoned the captain was well and truly lost.

“We must consider the worst possibility,” said Fionn. “There is a distinct chance that we are far from where we expect to be, and we may not find our way out of the mountains until the morning. Furthermore, if this storm gets worse, or the terrain grows less welcoming than it is now, we will surely perish in this cold.”

“We?” said Farris. “The only ones to perish here will be…” He trailed off. “Never mind. Well said, Firemaster.”

Padraig moved his mount towards Fionn. “What would you have us do? Camp here, in the middle of the road, in the middle of a storm?"

"No," said Fionn. “Half a mile back, the road took us through high rising cliffs. There may be cover there, or even a cave, if we’re lucky.”

“I have considered myself lucky before,” said Farris. “Maybe fortune will favour us more under a new guide.”

He threw a glance to Padraig, who after a long pause, gave a reluctant nod. With that, the party turned, and tracked back towards where they had come.

At first, Fionn had regretted speaking up so assertively, but even during the few minutes it took them to return to find shelter, the storm grew harsher. Sure enough, when they came back to the area he had spoken of, somewhere behind him Farris remarked that this was indeed well suited for a camp.

It's his grudge with the captain, remarked Sir Bearach. Farris sees this as getting another one over Padraig.

Why would that even matter? replied Fionn. Making it through the night now is all that does.

Together, they dismounted, and surveyed the area for a place to settle. Without any camping equipment or supplies, their night’s sleep was sure to be a harsh one. Farris found a spot in the bend of the road, where the high mountains sheltered the space from the roaring winds on three sides. All were about to agree to rest here, until Padraig shouted out, claiming to have found a cave.

“It’s just here!” he cried over the wind, beckoning the others to follow him. As they did, the black mouth of an open cave emerged from around a bend.

“Not much of a cave,” remarked Farris. Indeed, when Fionn was close enough to look inside, it was no more than ten feet deep, sloping gently downwards.

“And have you found anything better?” snapped Padraig. “As the Firemaster says, we may not have a better time than now to find a place to rest.”

“This may be our best option,” said Nicole, stepping inside. “We should take all the furs and clothes we have and pile them on top of us.”

“I can work on a fire,” said Fionn, stepping in.

“A fire?” said Farris. “In such an enclosed space, shouldn’t we be concerned about inhaling smoke?”

“Not with me here,” said Fionn. “I can direct the heat of the flames inwards, and the plumes of the smoke outwards.”

With that, they set to work on the meagre camp. Padraig and Nicole unpacked and lay whatever materials they had available on the floor of the cave. Farris tied up the mounts up, expressing concern that the horses might struggle in the cold. Fionn searched for firewood, but no dry kindling could be found.

I’ll have to fashion a fire without fuel, he thought, walking back to the cave.

Is that a problem? asked Bearach. I thought you didn’t need fuel.

That is correct. Although he didn’t directly express it to Sir Bearach, this would mean he would need to stay awake to keep the fire going and ensuring the party weren’t engulfed in smoke. Without better cover than this, the fire would need to burn throughout the night to ensure the safety of the group. Fionn tried not to let this bother him. After all, he had already been through worse than a night without sleep.

As the darkness of the evening settled in, the winds of the storm rose to a mighty pitch, seemingly threatening to blow the mountains themselves away. Thick snow pelted the ground, with more blots of white visible in the air than the black space that separated them.

Fortunately, at this point, the company had all settled in the cave. Padraig and Nicole lay side by side, both in their armour. On either side of them was Farris and Aislinn. Fionn had suggested they all sleep as close to one another as possible, and fortunately none had protested. Fionn sat at the foot of them. He breathed slowly, staring out into the storm. Focusing on the cold air against his skin, he made an estimate of the temperature of the room. Once he was confident in his assertion, he went to work.

He clicked to together the flint rings on his right hand and deftly pushed the power of his soul into the spark that emerged. With a whoosh, the spark turned into a flame, which Fionn cradled into his hands. He quickly estimated the temperature of the flame, and using Rionach’s Theorems of Heat Exchange, he calculated the rate of heat loss and heat transfer throughout the chamber. Once he had this worked out, he pushed upon the flame, slowly increasing its temperature.

Moving into more advanced aspects of Pyromancy, he took both hands, and pulled at either side of the flame. He was careful not to do so too quickly, otherwise the denominators of Rionach’s Fourth Theorem would be larger than their numerators, and this would cause the output to be less than one, which of course would not create a rational product from Rionach’s Sixth Theorem, which would come later.

Although slightly out of practice, Fionn managed to strike the balance well, pulling the flames apart with both hands and stretching it like warm dough. Rionach’s Theorems allowed for the manipulation of fire well beyond what would be possible without magic, though any miscalculation would case the flame to extinguish. Or worse.

Slowly, Fionn stretched the flames around him, forming them into a ball of orange, pulsating sludge. He pushed upon his soul once more, extending the mass to surround the perimeter of the caves. This, fortunately, Fionn had been able to measure to a decent level of accuracy before he began. Once the flames filled the walls, Fionn ignited the flame of his soul once more, and the walls came alight.

“Amazing,” said Farris, looking up to Fionn. Nicole, Aislinn, and Padraig didn’t add to this, each just started up at the fires with awe. Farris reached out to the flames. “They’re hot,” he said. “But they do not burn.”

“They only burn what I want them to burn,” said Fionn. “Now we better sleep while we can.”

The others didn’t need any further convincing, Fionn lay down, but he had no intention of sleeping. His focus remained firmly on the flames that surrounded them.

Sleep lad, said Sir Bearach. You’ll need it for the journey tomorrow.

I can’t, replied Fionn. I need to keep the fire lit, or we’ll freeze.

I think I can help there, said the knight. I lent my soul to help your magic before. Perhaps I can do the same now.

Fionn hadn’t considered this, but he welcomed the possibility. Don’t you need to sleep? he asked.

Of course not! I don’t have a body that needs rest. When you sleep, I just lie in wait until you wake.

And the flames, said Fionn. Do you know how to manipulate them?

I don’t think I need to. Out in the Goldgate, I just added my soul to the magic you had already conjured. With the hard work already done, I believe all I need to do is switch the fuel source from yours to mine.

Fionn frowned. This much he hadn’t tried before, at least not intentionally. The first time he did, he was being attacked by Firemaster Conleth. The last time was when the horde was upon him.

Let us try, then, said Fionn. I’ll start counting, and I’ll stop adding to the flames on three. Once I do, see if you can take over. If you do not do so by the time I reach five, I’ll take them back again.

Of course, said Bearach. I’m ready.

Fionn closed his eyes. Alright. One. Two. Three!

Fionn ceased his Pyromancy, and the flames all around them shook, their tongues flailing overhead.