a short way to a gurgling stream where the air would be less affected by the stink and make more comfortable camping .
A fire crackled , almost merry , and the brook babbled , almost gleeful , as Jona hunched beside the little flame . He was nervous , as even the small campfire to heat some pine-needle tea could be enough to aggravate the curse . That was assuming it was conscious . Such things grew rarer by the day , but it didn ’ t hurt to be safe . At least he didn ’ t need to cook , preferring to fast and prepare for the coming conflict .
Prepare he did , from sunset to the gray hour before dawn . Jona sat in deep meditation for hours . With each breath he took in some of the ambient magic that flew on the breeze , rushed by in the water , or slept beneath the earth . There was not much untouched by the curse , and that which he could find was stale . Fresh magic would have been the solution in years past , but he doubted there was any left in all the world . There were workarounds , though , and the fire was for more than just tea .
He took all those untainted scraps of power and channeled them into burning logs , where it would seep into the tea in the form of heat . Sweat poured down his face by the time he could find no more and waited for the tea to finish . As the bubbles appeared in the water , Jona took it off the fire and sipped the drink . Despite being fresh off the fire , and full of new pine needles , the tea was weak and barely warm , stale as the magic that went into it . Still , it was more active than it had been before the ritual . Once the power had a chance to seep into his bones it would be just enough for one potent incantation , or two lesser spells .
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