“First, let’s get a fire going,” Hafen said, turning away from the oppressive gloom. Agreeing with a silent nod, Theo lit the fireplace in the reception room. Dorius put water on to boil in the kitchen furnace, while Hafen and Mikhail began hauling supplies to the pantry. “Grrr. Grraah.” Brillin returned, having lit the fire in Astina’s room and tucked her in. The four men—guests to Brillin, freeloaders to Astina—were working so hard they were sweating in the winter chill. Rolling up her sleeves, Brillin decided to help. She slung a sack of salt and a sack of flour over her right shoulder, tucked a massive ham under her left arm, and picked up a bag of potatoes. In just