He reaches over and hugs her impulsively. "Well, you know I'm no good for magic. Just trying to hang on till the thaw. But I reckon if anyone can make a good guess about the lights, it's one of the Lokis."

"I want mine back," he grumbles a little. It's an utterly sincere complaint, and he knows the phrasing is childish, but Harley's not likely to judge him for it.

"I know he can handle the cold. He's built for it. But there are plenty of other things that could hurt him, and I hate the idea of him being so far off and me not being able to do anything for him."