Daja’s mouth twitched.

Noise made her turn. More people had reached the kitchen, most still wearing night clothes. Anyussa and the housekeeper, standing with the hysterical maid between them, drew close to stare. Jory and Nia must have galloped down from the third floor. They peered around the maids, eyes wide. Footmen arrived in nightshirts, demanding to know what the fuss was about.

Daja’s mouth twitched again. She sternly forbade herself to smile and walked over to the hearth. She wasn’t sure if her shirt was one of Sandry’s. To be safe-she thought one naked mage was all this household could stand-she put her hands palm to palm, and pulled them apart. The flames between her and Frostpine split neatly. Leaning in, she laid her palm on his shoulder. Through their common magic she said, Come back.

Frostpine twisted to glare at her. “What?” he demanded. “Can’t a man meditate?”

“I thought you did that in your room,” she said. “Frostpine, you’re naked.”

“Naked and warm,’” he said with a scowl. He hitched himself around until he faced Daja, doing it so expertly that he hardly disturbed the wood stacked around him. “I can’t get a decent fire going up there, the hearth’s too small. I thought I’d do everyone a favor and start the fire here.”

“Did you tell anyone?” Daja inquired.

“I meant to be gone by the time-” Frostpine looked past Daja to see his wide-eyed audience. “Hakkoi and Shurri,” he grumbled. “I just wanted to get warm.”

“Why didn’t you put up a folding screen? Or let someone know?” Daja asked. “Then maybe the whole house would still be asleep right now.”

“You’d think they never saw a naked man before,” Frostpine grumbled. He crouched, then stepped carefully out of the blaze without scattering wood or ashes. He then used a poker to shove the burning wood in until it covered the place where he’d sat. Once done, he set the poker aside and began to dress.

The maid was still sobbing. Other servants were backing out of the kitchen. This wasn’t the magecraft they knew, a matter of potions, signs, and charms. They were unnerved. Only Anyussa was unshaken. She looked Frostpine over, hands on hips, a crooked smile on her lips. “My cousin says mages are eunuchs. I wish he were here right now. Do you want breakfast?” she asked Frostpine as he put on his habit.

He grinned. “I’m ravenous,” he admitted. “And for the first time since I came here I feel warm.”

Daja shook her head and went back to collect her poles.

In spite of the morning’s disturbance and their reluctance the night before, Jory and Nia were in the schoolroom when Daja arrived. No fires were lit in the hearth: wool dresses and stockings or no, the twins’ breaths steamed on the chilly air.

“I can’t sit like this,” Jory informed Daja. The twins were shivering. “We’ll freeze.”

“You’re not sitting,” Daja said. She tossed a pole to Nia, who caught it easily, and another to Jory, who nearly dropped hers. She placed her own pole against the wall.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t have staffs,” Nia said, running her hands over her pole.

“You won’t need a staff as a mage,” Daja replied. “You-“

“Does he always sit in fires naked?” asked Jory. “Are we going to learn how to do that? And why’d he pick the name Frostpine if he hates being cold?”

Daja had asked him the same thing, as they huddled in a mountain travelers’ hostel during a late summer blizzard. To Jory she repeated his answer: “He said he hadn’t thought cold got so very cold, and he thought frostpines must be pretty trees. Neither of you will be sitting naked in any fires.”

Nia shuddered. “Oh, please!” she whispered. “I have nightmares about fire!”

Daja patted her shoulder. “Once your magic’s under control, you’ll feel less like you’re actually made of wood,” she said gently. “You’ll be able to seal yourself off from your magic. The dreams will stop then. Now,” she said before they could interrupt again, “we’ll start with some easy first moves with the staff.”

“But how-“Jory began.

“Just do as I say,” Daja told the girl sternly. Jory nodded, mute.

She didn’t mean to make fighters out of them, but if she was going to do this, she ought to do it properly. Otherwise her next dream of Skyfire might end as he trounced her for slipshod teaching. She taught the girls how to properly grip the staff and how to stand to keep their balance. Then she showed them the high strike and its defense, the high block, the body strike and its defense the body block, and the low strike and block. Next she gave them a sequence, high, middle, low. Jory struck first as Nia blocked; after they had done five sets, Daja switched them so Nia struck Jory’s blocks. They didn’t hit hard. It was more important at this point to hit and block correctly. They repeated the sequences over and over until both girls showed beads of sweat at the temples. As they got more confident, they picked up speed.

Jory began to hit too hard. Nia shrank a little at each blow. When it was her turn to strike, she tapped Jory just as she had at first. When Jory became striker again, she was impatient. She brought her high strike down with all her strength behind it. Nia cringed. As Jory launched her middle strike, Daja thrust her own pole in and knocked Jory’s staff aside. Nia backed up.

“Keep control of your feelings,” Daja told Jory. “You can’t get excited. You have to pull that in. And you can’t shrink away,” she told Nia. “Keep the rhythm going. Don’t worry about anything but doing the same moves over and over.”