The master and the windigo

by stupidswampdragon

6 - Rescue

The log flung downward and smashed against the metal with a dull thud. The impact carried enough force to visibly dent the padlock; it also proved to be too much for Lyra, the log breaking free of her unicorn magic and buckling into the snow, almost hitting her good leg on the way down.

"AGH! Offf ffor-!" she cussed instinctively as she took a hurried step back - after the whole scene was over. Her exhaustion had reached the point where she had to really focus just to keep up with the outside world. It didn't make walking in the deep snow still any easier either; the retreat unbalanced her, and she couldn't drag her rear legs out of the snow quick enough. Gravity did the rest for her as she stumbled, finally falling backwards and landing on her butt, torso sinking into the snow almost mid-way.

She would have taken offence were her jacket not already soggy wet or frozen stiff, depending on the area.

"Why in Eques'ria woul' anypony lock a freahhhing shed?" she gave the door a desperate look, complaining as best as she could with her uncooperative tongue. She couldn't speak the way she wanted to ever since she left the forest, but she was so exhausted that she no longer cared.

She almost regretted setting her sights on that flimsy building. It had seemed like a sensible decision at the time. When she had dragged herself back to the proper slopes, she was quite sure she would never make it back to the château. That despite how she saw the lights in the distance - that was the worst, actually. So close and so far away. A long path went back there, trekking across another hill; not too shabby with skis, but an absolute pain on hooves.

Utterly impossible for a drained out musician who was down a leg and suffered from frostbites already.

She was sitting on the bottom of the slope, hanging onto a marker pole and longing for her warm room when the idea struck her. She recalled the shed FF took her to earlier. It may have been small, it may have been unrefined and it may have had little in the way of supplies; but it had dry wood and a fireplace. It was also a lot closer, just a shortish climb up a slope.

The promise of a warm and dry room completely made her forget how FF meticulously locked the door after they left. Chilling in the snow with a dejected look on her face, Lyra eyed that dent and bent padlock and felt like breaking into tears.

This so can't be happening.

"Logically, the padlock is there to keep loiterers and animals out," Snowy rubbed her chin. Owing to being a windigo with a completely intangible body, she had no issues with walking on the snow, a feature Lyra envied to no end. "A grumpy bear would be a rude surprise to anypony seeking shelter in one of these huts."

"Yesssh... much bedder to let 'em freeze to deafff insss'ead," Lyra shook her head. She clenched her teeth and willed herself go back to breaking the lock again. It was so difficult to get back up, though.

At least her teeth stopped clattering a while ago. In all honesty, that development should have made her much more worried than she felt; she was really relieved instead. She had no idea how cold she was and about hypothermia in general; but her body not following her orders was easy to spot and grated her badly. She hopped back to the door and grabbed the log with her magic, bringing the frozen piece of wood high and letting it come down on the lock with another thud.

Crack.

The poor padlock jumped around wildly, but gave no signs of giving up just yet.

"I would think they have attendants at the ready when they are expecting visitors to need the hut," Snowy mused as her Master was busy struggling for her dear life. "Clearly, night-time is not included in their schedule."

"Clea'ly," Lyra grumbled absent-mindedly and brought the log down again. The crack of the lock was accompanied by a new, different sound. Something was giving way, that was sure; but the door remained closed, the warm salvation still ever so far away.

The windigo didn't bother to add anything further, and Lyra was all too focused on her task to bother with talking. The wind started to pick up, showering them with thin vapours of snow; the beats of the log acting like a metronome in the otherwise silent environment.

Crack.

Crack.

Creee-crack.

Creeeeee-crack.

Work! Lyra grunted as she watched the log smash against the padlock, the annoying piece of metal resisting even her most valiant efforts. The hut itself was a lot less sturdy though, and the lock visibly began to tear away from the door, the left side already dangling loose. Not quite what she was gunning for, but Lyra would be happy with any resolution that got the door open. Especially once the wind began blowing in earnest, turning her whole left side white in a single moment.

Strangely enough, that shower of snow didn't make her feel any colder. The small white flakes showed no sign of melting either, and that was worrisome enough to get her attention.

"I mussh' be rr-real ccchold," she mumbled and finished the sentence with biting onto her tongue.

Serves you right, she fumed inside her head. Keep out of my way next time. Stupid thing, never doing what I want...

"Master IS pretty cold," Snowy walked next to the pony, her red eyes also fixed on the padlock. "Ma- I mean Lyra should break this lock soon. I am not sure what is the lowest temperature ponys still survive at, but it would be better to not test it any further."

You don't say, Lyra shot an annoyed glare at the windigo and lifted the log back into the air. Telekinetic magic or not, it took a real effort to keep the beating up; and she wasn't sure if she or the shed could maintain their composure longer. She was drifting towards the idea of taking a small nap; she was so tired and hurt, a little sleep could have done wonders. Could, were Snowy not waking her up all the freaking times, nudging her forward undaunted.

Easy for a ghost made of cold. You don't need any sleep whatsoever.

Watching the log bounce off the padlock and land back into the snow, Lyra turned that annoyance into more fuel for her desperation. She could sleep in the house, she definitely could; just light a fire so she can thaw out and then she would be snoring right away.

A little warm and some sleep.

Just a door away from her.

Screw you! Let me in already!

The frozen log flung back into the air and slammed straight into the padlock, this time propelled both by gravity and a sickly tired unicorn's magic. The crack sounded absolutely different, and the padlock landed in the snow alongside the log. It was still intact - but the screws holding it to the door were lying next to it, having been torn from the wood by the repeated impacts. Lyra stared at the bits of metal with a stupefied expression. She has been beating away at the door for what seemed like ages, and she was wholly expecting to just continue doing so until she slumped over with exhaustion. The chance of success grew so slim in her mind that she almost forgot about the possibility.

Then she got over her surprise and stumbled forward, yanking the door outward and literally falling into the shack, crashing onto the floor without a word.

A cold, dirty, run-down shack with a sooty fireplace, some dry wood and a broken door.

Yet the only place that could make her as ecstatic as she was.

---

"Wha..." Lyra mumbled and threw another match onto the oil soaked paper. A small blue flame lit up and grew with orange fury - then gave out and fizzled into nothingness.

Rubbing a numb hoof against her injured leg, Lyra considered that she was already going mad. She was always more of a city girl, yes; but it was impossible that she would fail at survival so badly that she failed to light a fire with a match. She turned her head to the right and checked on the door; but it was closed, just as she left it. The wind kept picking up force and rattled the shack time to time; that only affected the outside world though, the air in the shack remaining still.

It wasn't the currents blowing her fire out.

Squinting at the fireplace - her newest enemy - with angry eyes, Lyra lit another match and threw it onto the paper. A small fire greeted her, burning for the whole total of two seconds before disappearing.

"OH BUGGA' ME SIDEWAYS!" Lyra screeched and threw the entire box of matches onto the cold wood. Her sense of balance virtually non-existent, she also followed the small object, landing on the dusty floor with a thud, making a small white cloud as the impact knocked the accumulated snow off from her. Not like she cared about stuff like that any more. She was so numb everywhere, she could have started hammering nails through her leg without flinching. Being numb didn't prevent her from being angry and incredibly upset, though.

"Se'eously... wha's wron' wiff me today...?"

Having bad luck once was always just that - bad luck. Twice in a row was usually a bad omen. Having a whole day be nothing but things go wrong... that was her idiocy. Almost always.

"I don't get the frustration," Snowy tried to placate her. "Master is doing everything correctly."

Lying still on the floor, Lyra only moved her amber eyes to the windigo.

"Ya' even 'now what 'am... tryin' to do?" she mumbled. Being horizontal on the floor, she felt the need for a nap overtaking her again. She wanted to light the fire first, but as it seemed impossible... she may as well just skip that part and go straight to sleeping.

It couldn't hurt to sleep a little. Just a little.

"Sure I do," Snowy rubbed her ghostly hooves together expectantly. "Dinner!"

"Din... ner...?" Lyra raised her eyebrow at the strange answer. Her frozen and stiff lips curled to a smile at the windigo's humour... then her eyes widened as she realized the creature was not joking. "Snow... Snowy. Were ya'... eatin'... that?"

"A little unripely and way too small," Snowy gave a honest assessment on her dish. "But still the best meal I had in a... well I have no idea how many years! Probably a few centuries. What year is it again, Master?"

Fricken' heat-devouring monster, Lyra ground her teeth against each other, fully knowing where her attempts at fire-making have gone astray.

"Stahp eatin' mah' fire ya' iiii... idiot," she muttered and turned her gaze at the fireplace. The small box of matches acquired an amber aura and floated back to her, the pony taking another match. "Lemme' start a... a fire propah'... get wa.. warm! Then I dun' c... care whaccha do..."

"Oh... oh. All right," Snowy made an uncertain nod. As usual, her ghostly face was hard to decipher; but it seemed as if she understood the mistake she made. "Sorry about that, Master. I got a little overly excited."

Lyra didn't care about the apology one bit. She flung a lit match into the fireplace and watched the flames erupt with a faint whoosh, the orange colour surrounding the wood and the air filling with a sour, acidic smoke. Mesmerized, Lyra stared into the light with glassy eyes.

Her long awaited rest, at last.

---

Lyra never thought it could happen, but she started missing the cold.

Her body didn't react so nicely to being thawing out. Her physical being was a petty bastard, filling her head with all sorts of woes instead of being thankful. Her stomach turned wildly, making her all sorts of sick; the feeling only made more annoying by knowing how she didn't have anything since breakfast. She couldn't get up from the floor; the room began turning around her each time she tried to do so, making her sickness even more pronounced. Not like it would have done her much good anyway, for all her legs were burning up with a fury of a thousand suns. She placed them closer to the fire, let them defrost quicker; but that only made the tingling sensation worse. She could only bear the punishment for a few seconds before she had to yank them away, scuttling away from the very fire she struggled to lit.

She should have taken a nap while she still could, even if it was cold. Eyeing the orange flames with bloodshot eyes, she knew that was no longer a possibility either. No matter how insanely tired she felt, she couldn't fall asleep when she felt mere moments away from throwing up.

I so absolutely hate today.

Then something struck her right leg, making her flinch and hiss with pain. A quick look proved her worries: her wound sprang back into action, the makeshift bandage turning vivid red.

"Oh- oh right," Snowy put a hoof to her head. "Master's wound must have thawed out. I'm not sure if I can freeze it back again, not with all this heat around. I'm not sure if it would be wise, either..."

Her horn flaring up with magic as she unzipped the jacket, Lyra was pretty sure that repeatedly deep-freezing wounds was not a medically recommended practice. She never saw any movie where anypony survived by doing that. Heroes always sported tightly wrapped bandages. Properly bandaging herself needed her to remove her clothing first, though; so she began another tiresome battle, trying to rid herself from her torn and pine-resin sticky jacket. It was a somewhat expensive piece of cloth, made to be warm and comfortable at the same time. She remembered how easy it was to put it on... yet, in her tired and clumsy state, it was oh-so difficult to remove it. She wound up using her teeth alongside her magic to take it off, tearing a few more holes into the fabric in the process.

She so didn't care.

The gash in her leg took priority. She was no certified doctor, but it looked quite deep to her; it also started to bleed pretty badly once she removed the torn jacket from above it. Gulping both to calm herself and keep her empty stomach from turning up, she yanked the orange box from the wall. Quite literally - the box came off its hinges and landed on the floor, cracking open with a loud bang and spilling everything onto the floor. Scissors, rolled up sheets of white bandage, pills, even more pills, smaller scissors, wavy scissors, something that looked like a really small knife, and a few more things that she wholly ignored. She grabbed the closest sheet of bandage and hastily wrapped it around her leg. She wasn't sure how an actual bandage looked like, so she improvised - wrapping a new layer whenever the mess of white textile felt loose.

She wound up exhausting the whole roll, even wrapping a good part of her torso and the base of her neck somehow. The bandage held firm at last; so firm that she felt constricted whenever she drew a deeper breath. That also pulled on her wound in turn, turning breathing into a painful exercise. Still, as far as Lyra was considered, the pain was welcome: it told her that the bandage was still holding in place.

"I... think that's not how one wraps with bandage," Snowy scratched her head, confusion clouding her crimson eyes.

"I think I dun' care," Lyra dropped back onto the floor, the silver necklace rocking around her as she hit the floor. It was a rough landing, she was only careful about her right side staying in the air. A brief flinch ran across her face as she took a deeper breath, the white bandage stretching against her movements. She felt like a washed tablecloth hung out to dry; even that brief exercise tired her greatly. She didn't regret anything though. That wound needed some care one way or the other. Even her head cleared a little. She almost felt ready to fall asleep, an improvement she spent so much time waiting for. She only needed to shuffle around a little, kneading her wet jacket until she was comfortable...

Right until something pricked her rear leg. It didn't really hurt, the sensation close to getting bitten by a bug. It was more than enough to the irate Lyra though, and she rolled there with a groan that perfectly blended her frustration and anger.

She found no bug on the floor. Only a pair of wavy scissors were there, the small tool lying open and sharp-side up, just as it landed. Lyra didn't complain or anything; she just swept everything back into the orange box with a growl and threw the whole thing back onto its resting place. She had no desire to roll onto something sharper during her sleep. The ground being clear of sharp widgets, she hopped back onto her jacket... and realized she may have put it a little too close to the fireplace.

It was actually kind of obvious since the hood had already caught fire.

I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF TODAY!

Overreaction is the irate pony's best friend, a saying that doubly goes for one that was so deprived of sleep and full of ailments. Followed by her windigo's confused stare, Lyra quenched the small rogue fire with a stomp, then grabbed the jacket with her teeth and pulled it to the farthest point from the fire. She went all the way to the back of the shack, settling down among the dry logs. There she settled onto the bare logs, using the dripping jacket as a make-shift blanket which she pulled onto herself. She sank into that imaginary fortress with a proud grin, deeply satisfied by how she felt herself cut off from the outside world.

Equestria could go and do wherever it wanted for all she cared. She was taking a day off.

"Is it wise, going to sleep with the fire still burning?" Snowy scratched her ghostly head, her crimson stare alternating between her master and the orange flames. "I remember the previous Master going through all sorts of reports where peasants burnt their homes down this way... also, in the corner over there, there are-"

"Duncare," Lyra waved a hoof in the air, her mind already on the way to dreamland. "Eat it or sum'hing. Sleep. Lemme' sleep."

She was in a slumber almost as soon as she finished that sentence, her long day finally coming to an end. She didn't even hear Snowy's legitimately curious question.

"Why does Master prefer the wet coat instead of the dry blankets over there...?"

---

"Master."

Lyra didn't show much reaction to the call. She mumbled something, twitched her eyebrows a little, and that was about it.

"Master..."

A hoof sailed through the air, aimed at the irritating and very much imaginary fruit fly that pestered the slumbering pony. While a wholly misguided reaction, it did convey the proper intent to the ghostly windigo.

Shoo. Let me sleep.

"MASTER!"

Lyra bared her teeth and growled, pulling the jacket tighter on her head. She must have been in the belief she was in her room, as she even tried pulling a log closer to her head - a move that made more sense with pillows.

"MASTER!"

Snowy finally reached a level that crossed Lyra's threshold. She outed a pained growl and cracked an eye open, the amber pupil barely visible between her eyelids.

Even from what little she could see, the shack was quiet and peaceful. The fire must have been out because everything was dark; even the air was a little cold, the thin wooden walls not retaining the warmth all too well. Talking about the wooden walls, they were making a small racket as they struggled against the battering wind outside. The weather had definitely taken a turn for the worse. There was no movement inside though - absolutely no reason for her to wake up.

"What now...?" she stuttered, uttering the words so quietly as if she was talking to herself. She had no idea what had struck the crazy windigo, but she knew she already regretted signing that stupid contract binding it to her. That thing was consistently denying her sleep.

I wonder if she has an off button, Lyra rubbed her eye drowsily.

"Master, we've got company," Snowy motioned towards the door with her nose. "Is that your rescue perhaps?"

Lyra had two good reasons why she couldn't answer that. She had just woken up, first of all; she had absolutely no idea what the windigo was talking about. She also had to take a deep yawn for two, rendering herself unable to speak.

Then a loud bang came from the door, bringing her wide awake in the fraction of a second. She also shrunk two sizes as she hid behind the logs, eyeing the dark innards of the shack in complete silence. She would have liked to be as positive as Snowy was, expecting a cheerful pony to just barge in and carry her all the way back to the château; but after her absolutely miserable day, she was more expecting fate to send a wild and hungry bear her way.

Out of the frying pan, straight into the larger dish below.

All the time.

Another bang; the door rocked and creaked, the old wood barely resisting the force pitched against it. Lyra hastily pulled a few logs closer to her, bettering her makeshift hiding spot.

Then another bang; splinters of wood fell from the door, showering onto the floor.

"Ohmysweetcelestia," Lyra muttered and pulled herself deeper among the logs, even going as far as dragging some onto her back with her magic. "Please stay the heck away from me. Pretty please."

"Not friendlies, then? Maybe they don't even know you're here," Snowy gave her a perplexed stare. "I wonder why would they would want in so badly."

Cowering in the confines of logs, Lyra couldn't move any of her hooves to her face; so she had to suffice with just banging her head against a random piece of wood. Then she got an idea.

"You're a windigo, right?" she moved her gaze to the ghostly figure standing next to her. "Can't you, you know, save me somehow?! You're supposed to be a terrible, deathly monster!"

Snowy jumped a little, backing away from Lyra, her expression that of bewilderment and pain.

"M- monster?! Me?" she stuttered, visibly taking a few deep gasps. It was more than likely a reflex she picked up from the ponies she trailed; being a ghost, she had no need for air.

Lyra gave that reaction a sombre nod, sighing deeply as she worked herself through the disappointment.

Yeah, right. Sorry for thinking you'd give me a break. What was I even expecting?

Back to hiding it was. If she remained concealed and wasn't too loud, she could conceivably pull through unscathed. That's what she kept telling herself, anyway. Then came the next loud bang from the door, a few nails popping loose and dropping to the floor with faint clings...

Lyra gulped and held her breath back. She was as ready as she could get. There was nothing that could give her away-

-apart from a translucent blue pony that stood next to her, the pair of crimson eyes glowing like two torches.

IDIOT! Lyra bit her lips real hard, berating both herself and her stupid windigo with the singular word. Still, if the creature couldn't help her, the least it could do was not getting in her way.

"Snowy! Here, RIGHT NOW!" she barked, muffling her voice as much as she could. Her nerves already on the edge, it was hard to prevent herself from screaming. "Don't let them see you!"

The windigo acknowledged the command with a perplexed stare and cocked her head to the side; then she shrugged and hopped next to Lyra with an effortless move, her blue figure disappearing behind the logs. Just in time, too. Another bang echoed across the room and a crossbeam fell from the door, landing with a hollow thud. One more push and the shack was open - permanently.

That push never came though.

"Whah- WHAT IN THE BLOODY NAME OF CELESTIA ARE YOU DOING?!"

The shout came from the outside, and got Lyra's ears perked up right away. No wild animals would scream like a thoroughly angry pony.

"Openin' the shack, Sir. Lock's broken, but the door ain't budgin'. Got barred from inside, I guess."

"Or maybe you need to pull instead of push, you dimwit! Didn't you notice ALL the warming shacks open to the outside? So that, you know, the wind can't just push the doors in?"

The door got yanked as the last word sounded. The inside of the shack immediately got a lot more lively. Moonlight filtered in and painted the walls blue. The raging wind pushed into the small room, cooling everything and dragging snow around. Lyra began to shiver in her small hiding spot and really wished she had taken her jacket back on before she laid low. A small nuisance compared to how relieved she felt; those were ponies out there. A wide grin spreading across her face, she sighed and readied herself to stand up and greet them. She only needed a little time to get her unruly legs to work; they went all numb during her sleep in the uncomfortable spot. Finally-

A pegasus in a bulky black jacket stormed into the room before she could move, scanning the dark interior with a hasty movement of his head.

"Well I'll be. Nopony in here. I am bamboozled, positively bamboozled!" he growled, spinning around and glaring at his colleague through the door. "I told you we won't catch her in such a convenient spot! But noooo, you HAD to be stupid and break the bloody door anyway. That's coming down from your salary mate, I hope you know that!"

CATCH her? Lyra jolted at the choice of expression, and immediately went back to hiding proper. Whoever those two were, they sure didn't sound like a rescue party.

Better wait a little and see.

"Wha'!" the other pony barked back, his voice much deeper than that of his boss. "I ain't broken' nothin'! I checked this hut 'ere 'cause I saw the padlock missin'!"

"Yeah, and you breaking this door apart was just my vivid imagination!" the black-clothed pegasus circled a hoof next to his head. "Look at this door, mate! It's in tatters! Are you going to tell me you didn't do anything?!"

"Not to the padlock," the pony outside mumbled embarrassedly.

"Suuure," the pegasus shook his head and moved to the fireplace. "So somepony broke into a warming hut and then forgot to start a fire, eh?"

"She could've put it out. She could've heard us comin'."

"Then she's got some super-sharp ears, noting us early enough to let the whole fireplace cool down," the pegasus leaned over the ashes and charred pieces of wood. "Yep, all cold. This fire was put out long ago."

"She could've cooled it with some snow," the other pony stuck to his argument as he barged into the room himself. He was a stocky earth pony, towering above his boss; he had a deep-blue jacket himself, a transparent visor on his head protecting his eyes from the hash wind outside.

"Last I checked, snow melts into water when it gets hot. You see any dampness here, mate? Mud?" the pegasus rose back up to slap the earth pony. "No! Of course you don't! Because she wasn't here, and you're just grasping at the straws to avoid paying for all the dumb things you do!"

"She could've cooled it down some other way," the earth pony recoiled from the strike. Despite his deep voice, he sounded very anxious at that point.

"Haha, yeah, sure! She's a blasted windigo now, freezing fireplaces without a trace!" the pegasus broke into a hollering laughter, then pushed his head against his colleague's. "Stop. Being. Obtuse. Or else I'm going to get you kicked out so hard you'll be flying all the way back to Appleloosa. Am I being clear enough, mate?!"

"SIR! LOUD AND CLEAR, SIR!" the earth pony snapped to attention, yelling so loudly that Lyra's ears rang. She also sneaked a glance at Snowy, wondering how unlikely it was of the useless monster to save her.

Her first lucky break for a good while - and not a moment too soon.

"Good! Good," the pegasus made a small nod and turned around again, coming to a stop directly in Lyra's direction. That scared the living daylights out of her; she became absolutely still right away. She didn't even breathe. "Eh, what's done is done. Might as well make the most of this... investigation now. Did you see any trails leading here?"

"In that wind, Sir?" the earth pony took a more relaxed pose and scratched his head. "Even our own trail's gone, and we've arrived 'ere 'bout two minutes ago."

The pegasus snorted loudly and glanced behind his back, prompting the earth pony to straighten out and go back to yelling.

"I mean - NO SIR! NO TRAILS LEADING HERE, SIR!"

"More like it," the pegasus sighed and ran his eyes across the small room. "So let's see what’ve got in here... no personal items for sure. Blankets are all in their spot, nice and orderly, just as the cleaners would leave them. You see that, mate? That’s somepony doing their job. Properly. Anyhow… first aid box is on the wall as well... she would've definitely needed that."

This is no rescue party, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and pulled her ears to her neck, trying to present the lowest profile possible. They are like, hunting for me. What the heck...

She wondered if this was just another bad dream. But that possibility was not convincing enough to give herself away just yet. She could pinch herself later, once she was in the clear.

"Master's rescue doesn't look too friendly," Snowy hummed and climbed out of her cover to take a better look at the intruders. Lyra couldn't as much as gasp, the development catching her completely by surprise. She watched the stupid ghost stand up and move forward in complete silence.

"Sir... she could've packed the box back together, Sir," the earth pony struggled to make another objection, standing as firm as if he swallowed a stick.

"Yeah. She'd walk all the way here with a girder in her side and she would still have the mind to do some house-cleaning," the pegasus shook his head, tiredness overpowering any other emotion in his voice. "We're talking about a musician, mate. Who do you think she was, really? Supermare?"

"I don't think I like you two," Snowy exclaimed as she strolled between the conversing ponies.

Lyra herself was sitting silently in her cover, her mouth left hanging as she watched her ghostly pet waltz to the two ponies and inspect them up close. Close enough to start sniffing their clothes. All without them batting an eye.

I'm totally dreaming this, Lyra came to the only sensible conclusion and shut her mouth closed before she started drooling. Hey brain, this was really cool and trippy and everything... but I wouldn't mind waking up about now.

"Ah, right. Kinda' forgot she's wounded," the earth pony mumbled, then jolted as an idea crossed his mind. "The floor! We could check the floor, Sir!"

"For what," the pegasus turned back to his colleague, his voice broken and tired. He was obviously tired of the whole business already.

"For blood!" the earth pony chattered excitedly.

Moving her eyes to the bright-red bandage on her right leg, Lyra flinched and knew her short-lived luck just ran out. She hid pretty well, even if unknowingly; but she was sure she didn't clean the floor before she went to sleep. She wasn't expecting to find herself on the run.

The pegasus hummed at the suggestion and turned his gaze downwards, staring at the floor. As the door of the shack was still wide open, the wind had no issues finding its way in, bringing ever more snow with it. The floor was already sporting a white cover, just as the fireplace and the orange first-aid box accumulated more and more of the fluffy white stuff.

"There's no broom in this hut," the pegasus stated as he dragged his hoof across the floor, building an small ant-hill of snow. "Fancy cleaning the place with your tail, mate?"

"Er- no, Sir. Not really," the earth pony frowned at the prospect. "T'was just a suggestion, Sir."

"You're not paid for suggestions, mate," the pegasus growled and pulled the transparent visor back over his eyes. "Just as you're not paid to break things either. Now quit screwing around and do your job already! I told you to search the forest, didn't I? She's out there, she has to be. Or are you afraid of going into the dark and scary woods, mate? Need your doll?"

"More like hopin' she ain't out there. Sir," the earth pony bit his lip. "She's frozen solid if she spent the whole night in this crazy wind. Tho' she could've dug a hole and weathered there, I s'pose."

"As if a city pony would know of such tricks. Besides, why would you even hope for that?!" the pegasus gave his colleague a piercing stare. "If she dug a hole for the night then she bled out in that hole, as simple as that. And that would be real bad news for us, mate. I don't know about you, but I sure don't feel like digging through the entire bloody forest! So stop talking nonsense, will you?"

The earth pony shrank away from his superior's glare; which was good enough for the pegasus.

"Priorities, mate! Priorities," the pegasus went on as he walked out from the shack. "A guest disappeared at night. So what? We will get an inquiry. But you know what everypony's going to say? That she was another stupid daredevil who didn't know her limits, end of story. Who bloody cares. The amulet disappearing though! The viscount would personally rip us a new one for that. And we wouldn't like this story to end in a tragedy, right, mate?"

"Absolutely not, Sir," the earth pony mumbled. He hesitated for a moment, indecisive whether he should listen to his instincts or his superior; then he caved in and walked out himself, passing straight through the windigo and then the open doorway as well. Then the door slammed shut and the shack fell into silence.

"I'm pretty sure I don't like you two," Snowy bared her fangs at the closed door.

Lyra was still keeping silent and hiding among the logs. Snow covered the jacket she was huddled under and her heart pounded away in her ears; but she daren't move or as much as swallow. This was the very first time she was in actual danger, and the paralysis didn't let up easily; it took her a while to get over the initial shock. Not like she had much to be afraid of. With the howling wind outside, it was unlikely those two would hear her even if she started making a racket.

"Master?" Snowy turned to her, the windigo clearly missing the reaction from her side. "Master? Are you all right?"

Lyra cocked her head to the side and rose to her hooves. She moved slowly and was shaking in every joint, though not of the cold this time. She absent-mindedly took a step on a log and tripped straight away, landing on the floor after some skidding.

"MASTER!" Snowy rushed to her aid. As if the ghost could help her in getting back up.

"What the..." Lyra muttered. She was lying belly-down on the floor, her hind legs still resting on the pile of logs; but her mind was still stuck in the past, rewinding the previous few minutes again and again. "I don't get it... what's going on here?"

"Master has some enemies," Snowy proposed the obvious, the windigo dropping to the floor so she faced her master eye to eye. "Master needs to be careful."

Her eyes turning to the ghostly figure, Lyra made a frown; then she pulled her left leg to her face and bit onto it. Hard. The only result she got were a few tears streaming from her eyes, closely followed by Snowy making a bewildered face.

Nothing else changed though. She was still in the shack.

"Nope. Not a dream," she put her left hoof to her head, the despair creeping from her stomach towards her head in the form of a knot. "Oh my sweet Celestia, it's not a dream."

---

"This wise, Master?" Snowy fretted and fiddled with her hooves. "Master will be all sorts of visible-"

"I already told you to quit calling me that!" Lyra creaked the shack's door open, and took a peek outside. It was somewhat difficult, as pushing the door open also meant pushing the snow away; but she prevailed after some grunting. A rather unfriendly and chilly wind blew in her face straight away, forcing her to shield her eyes with a hoof; bothersome but a far cry from the storm that raged over the night. The same night that was letting up beyond the thinning wall of snow, the early rays of the sun basking the white hills in a pinkish hue.

More importantly, however, she couldn't see anypony nearby. Only one figure moved in the distance, at the far end of the slope, making its way towards the forest.

"I do believe I mentioned it was clear," Snowy slipped through the crack in the door, the ghostly being unhindered by such physical constraints.

That remark was right; Lyra had instructed the windigo to scout around earlier, greatly abusing the fact that only she was able to see the ghostly creature. Well, she and anypony else who signed their contracts with that Source-whoever. She assumed there weren't many of them.

"Then what are you getting all uppity about?" Lyra hissed to the windigo, gradually pushing the door open until she also fit through.

"This place is clear - but the Dancing Lights is still a fair walk away," Snowy pointed a blue hoof at the far-away château. "And even if Master can sneak there unseen, it's impossible to not be spotted once we get close to that! I saw the designs, during my time with the previous Master. It was built with safety in mind - both from sieges and lonesome threats."

"That's the Dancing Lights castle you're talking about. This is the Dancing Lights lodge. Substantial difference, that!" Lyra explained as she stepped outside. "I happen to be a guest there. Like, you know, a few dozen other ponies right now. They can't easily get rid of me once I'm in the crowd."

"Assuming they care," Snowy mused and began to pace in front of Lyra, despite her objections. "In my experience, peasants aren't worth much in the eyes of their Lord... and Master doesn't happen to be a noble, as I understand."

"Didn't you hear me telling you to quit that Master thing already?!" Lyra fumed with clattering teeth. She was back to shivering, a feeling she was growing quite familiar with. She didn't dare to light the fireplace again, lest the smoke gave her away; but the air inside the shack cooled out rather quickly that way, and the few blankets she swiped barely kept some semblance of warmth in her.

She was pretty sure the day would be worse than her night, though.

Her jacket was torn in so many places that it looked like an impressionist painting of some cheese, offering almost no protection against the cold any more. She had to make do with what she had, wrapping one of the blankets around herself and only then forcing the jacket on; the only way she could imagine herself walking for hours in the snow. She was somewhat aware how the blanket would get soaking wet after a while, but she couldn't imagine herself daring the trip with only the tatters of her former attire.

Just in case she wasn't down and under enough, she also grew hungry and very, very thirsty; so thirsty she tried to eat some snow. That one didn't go so well. It was so cold she couldn't chew the thing properly, much less swallow any of it. There was one consolation though: that there were plenty of provisions in the Dancing Lights. As long as she used her wits, she could get her hooves on something once she got there.

"Anyway, times have changed a lot since," Lyra continued her answer as she followed the windigo. "We're way more civilized now. I mean, there's still commoners and nobles - but the law considers everypony eeeeeeqqquuuAAAARGH THIS SNOW IS DEEP!"

It had snowed all night; and the fresh batch was a lot thinner than the aged, compacted snow that she got to know yesterday. Despite sinking all the way to her neck, Lyra had to make sure she stayed on her windigo's path. Snowy was abusing another of her qualities, that being her age; she walked the same path back in the day, when she was coming to the castle with the Ninth. While the windigo seemed to have a spotty memory, she swore she could remember the path they took.

Lyra deliberated at length on that, but finally had no reason to distrust the ghostly creature. She didn't have many other choices either, to be fair. Her only viable plan hinged on the windigo.

The two of them waded away from the route marked by the flags; the idea was to cross to the other side of the ridge and then move parallel to the path the guests used. Lyra understood she took certain risks; she abandoned a prepared route for an unprepared one for starters, making the walk a lot more exhausting. It also meant traversing through unknown terrain; a wrong step and she could careen down the hill. A barely used trail covered with fresh snow; she had no real chance of making it through there on her own. Not unless she had a guide, a pony who knew the way - like Snowy did.

It was by the same token she expected the viscount's goons not to bother looking for her there. They were focused on where she was likely to be - the warming shacks, the forest and the prepared routes the guests regularly took. She didn't stray too far from the ridge though; that was her contingency. On off-the-hoof chance she did run into a sentry, she would just dash over the ridge and scream at the top of her lungs, bumbling into the guests who used the regular route on the other side. Attracting attention was being safe.

That was only a last-resort, though. She would have preferred to make it to the château in silence. She had seen enough movies to know how being the heroine's best friend was far from a safe job. Bon would have made a fine leverage against her indeed; and the only thing guaranteeing Bon's safety was the viscount's belief that Lyra was dead.

She had no choice but to maintain that illusion as long as possible.

Watching her shadow become pronounced as the sun started to creep into the sky behind her, Lyra was pretty sure she had another long day ahead of her.

Comments

[Luna Aeterna Solutae]

*windigo.
I also would have staggered these out to remain in new stories / recently updated longer, but that's just my attentionhound opinion.

[stupidswampdragon]

Woah, really? My Word keeps flagging "windigo", but "wendigo" seems to be just fine. Maybe an alternate spelling?

As for staggering them out, that's not a bad idea actually! I'll keep it in mind - first story out, so I'm still learning the ropes...