"Sgailsheilleache found a shallow cave and called for early camp," he said.

Hkuan'duv nodded and pointed to a small outcrop. "We can set up behind those rocks."

Neither Danvarfij nor Kurhkage spoke as they pulled off their makeshift overcloaks of white sailcloth. During the days, the garments made it harder for them to be spotted in the snow. At night they draped them over the tent, camouflaging it.

They had remained behind and to the north of Sgailsheilleache's group, but A'harhk'nis often scouted closer, slipping unnoticed through the frozen slopes and crags. He also tracked the pale pair of men and their crouching companions, who steadfastly remained farther behind. At first the distance they kept had confused Hkuan'duv, as nights here were as long as the days, providing these nocturnal travelers ample time to catch up.

"They travel slowly on purpose," A'harhk'nis had told him. "They seem even more hesitant than we to draw close."

A'harhk'nis suffered least from cold and altitude. He had ranged for many years in all forms of wild climate and terrain. Kurhkage and Danvarfij were more accustomed to covert purposes in urban areas, the former in the southern coastal regions and the latter in the wetlands of Droevinka. A whole moon on light rations in this frigid range took its toll on the two.

Hkuan'duv removed linked pieces of wooden rods from his pack and assisted A'harhk'nis in erecting the tent.

"We are hidden enough for a small fire," he said. "Can you take first watch?"

It was unfair to ask this of A'harhk'nis after he had scouted for most of the afternoon, but the others needed to rest.

"I am usually still awake," A'harhk'nis answered, "when Kurhkage starts snoring."

A weak but welcome jest, and Hkuan'duv began building a small fire with elk droppings they had gathered in the foothills. Soon small, stinking flames danced before the tent's opening, and he ushered Danvarfij and Kurhkage inside.

Crawling in after them, Hkuan'duv pulled down his face wrap. The quarters were cramped but thereby better for sharing heat.

"Are you well?" he asked.

Danvarfij uncovered her face, and only half-smiled with chapped lips. "Of course-and I need no nursemaid. We have all spent nights in the cold."

"Not like this," Kurhkage said.

Hkuan'duv agreed, but if Kurhkage or Danvarfij were in trouble, he needed to know.

"No," she agreed softly. "Not like this."

Hkuan'duv pulled out his bedroll, and Danvarfij untied her own.

"Do you think we are near the destination?" she asked.

This was as close as she would ever come to telling him she could not last much longer.

"A'harhk'nis says we now climb the highest of the Pock Peaks," he answered, "so they could not go much farther."

He did not add that each day they went on meant another day for the journey back.

"Rest, both of you," he commanded. "I will see how A'harhk'nis fares with the tea."

"Will you bring me shortbread, too?" Danvarfij asked with a slight scowl. "Oh, and if you spot a wandering snow hare, you could shoot it for me as well."

He looked into her face, her words a reminder that this was not the time nor the place for lost sentiment to muddle their purpose.

"There are no rabbits up this high," he answered and crawled out.

But as Hkuan'duv stood in the cold darkness beside their small fire, he knew a small part of him would regret this mission's end. In Danvarfij's company, he did not feel alone.

The dreamer flew closer to the castle with a hissing voice whispering all around.

Here… it is here… only steps away and your journey nears an end.

Six towers loomed, their ice fringes and the rocky peaks more familiar.

She was so close.

Then she stood upon the stone steps before the high iron doors.

Only steps away… and the castle vanished.

Magiere slipped sideways off the depression's wall, flopping to the frozen ground before the hanging canvas. Through the crack along that curtain's edge, she saw a world of snow and ice, waiting so close.

She crawled into the open and trudged off into the night.

Wynn lay half-conscious against Osha, both of them reclined on a pile of packs against the wall. She could feel Chap curled up against her back.

Too exhausted for true sleep, she loathed the thought of opening her eyes to a world of endless snow and ice. Outside the cramped shelter, a hard wind whistled through the peaks.

The cave and Osha's body offered warmth, and beneath the wind's noise, she heard their small fire sputter. Sgaile must have kept it burning and, even better, Leesil promised they would rest late into the morning.

Osha's chest rose and fell beneath Wynn's head, and Chap was snoring again. Even if she could not fall asleep, these sounds and small movements brought her comfort. She had never suffered so much as in the past moon.

A numbing pain in her right foot grew every day, creeping up her calf. Today it had spread to her left foot, as if her body were warning her that it would soon quit altogether. Her eyes burned from so many days of blinding white.

She rolled off Osha's chest and wrapped her arm around Chap. The dog's snoring ceased when she tried to pull him against her, but he was too heavy.

"Scoot closer," Wynn whispered. "Move your rump!"

Chap grumbled and sidled in, and Wynn pressed her face into the fur between his shoulders.

"Only steps… away…," someone murmured."…Journey nears an end."

Wynn tried to lift her head, barely cracking her eyes open.

Sgaile slept on Osha's other side, and beyond Chap, Leesil leaned against the wall in deep sleep. Wynn laid her head back on Chap's shoulders, closing her eyes.

A cold breeze gusted into the shelter under the rustle of canvas. Chap shifted, and Wynn's head rolled off his shoulder.

"No," she groaned, "it cannot be morning. Just lie still. Sgaile will tell us when it is time to get up."

But Chap did not settle. Maybe he needed to go outside and relieve himself. Wynn's arm slid off his back as he rose, and she tried pulling part of Osha's cloak over herself.

Another cold gust reached her as she heard Chap slip out.

Gone! She has gone on without us!

Chap's multitongued words shouted in Wynn's half-awake mind. She flinched and lifted her head.

Who was gone?

Wynn looked blearily about. Everyone slept deeply and the sight only made her more weary. Leesil's chest barely even moved, and just beyond him…

Magiere was not there.

Wynn blinked to clear her sight. She scrambled over Leesil's legs for the canvas, and he barely stirred. When she stuck her head out into the harsh wind, snow stung her face, and she shielded her eyes with a hand.

The world was barren darkness above the dim gray of night-shrouded snow. Then a silver shadow bounded toward her.

Wake the others-Magiere is gone!

Chap's words filled Wynn's head an instant before he took full shape in the blizzard, ears flattened as he struggled across the snow.

"Magiere?" Wynn shouted. "Where are you?"

Get them up!

Wynn ripped aside the hanging canvas. "Leesil, come quickly!"