Beau's eyes flew wide. "And here all along I thought the ice to be our doom, when instead it probably saved our lives."

Loric smiled. "Hinder ye it did, yet it saved ye as well, for Vulgs found no scent by which to trail ye, and the Spaunen found no marks by which to run ye to ground. – Yet now these spikes will aid ye… though for a while ye need leave them off until we are well clear of Kolare an e Ramna, for we would have no marks left behind to betray us to the Rupt."

Quickly the buccen unstrapped the crampons and affixed them to their belts.

Now Vanidor handed the Waerlinga two packs fitted in new-cut slender pine-bough frames sized to suit their small forms, each provisioned with food and flint and steel and candles and a length of Elven-made rope and other such, as well as bedding tied atop. "Though it is but a short journey unto the Hidden Stand, ye mayhap will need these in the long days to come. And thy pack, Sir Beau, has some medicks inside, though not a great deal, to replace part of that which thou lost. Thou will be able to procure even more within Arden Vale, mayhap even gwynthyme, of which we here have none to spare."

Beau's mouth flew open. "Gwynthyme? Oh, Tip, the golden mint."

Bobbing their heads in thanks, the buccen shouldered the packs, each buckling the strap 'round his waist and snapping the clip across his chest to hold the shoulder harness in place. Then Tip fastened his quiver to his hip, and strung his bow. Looking up at Loric and then across at Beau, "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," replied Beau.

And with Elvenkind wishing them well, following Loric, out through the crevice they went and into the ice-clad 'scape beyond.

For more than a mile they walked due south, feet slipping and sliding, but at last Loric relented and allowed the Waerlinga to buckle on the crampons. And after that the buccen had little trouble crossing the sheathed expanse.

Eastward they turned, and in the distance ahead they could see a high stone bluff jutting up out of the land, and beyond that and standing against the sky afar stood the Grimwall Mountains, dark stone rising up in jagged fangs to gnaw at the heavens above.

And across a frozen world and toward this forbidding 'scape they strode.

By midmorn they had come to the stone bluff, sheer rock rising a hundred feet or more and looming to their left. And beside this massif they walked, yet making their way easterly, now paralleling the Tumble River, the water cascading 'round and over rocks and swirling in rapids as it poured and spewed and rolled and surged within its ice-laden banks, the rage of the river giving it its name, and because of its churning and roiling, seldom did the water freeze but in those rare stretches along its length where the water ran placid, undisturbed by tumult.

With the river on their right and the sheer stone wall on their left, onward the hikers trekked, pausing now and again to rest or to relieve themselves or to take a meal.

And the winter-bright sun, casting no heat, slid up the sky and across and down again as the travelers trudged on, the stone wall to their left growing even higher the farther east they went.

Finally with the sun at their backs, in the near distance to the fore, they could see a cloud of vapor swirling into the air, the billow casting back a pale gold light in the afternoon sun.

"What is it," asked Beau, pointing ahead.

"Wait, wee one," replied Loric, his blue eyes atwinkle. "Thou wilt soon see."

Onward they strode, and now faintly they could hear a grumble above the crunch of spikes upon ice. And the closer they came to the roiling, rising vapor, the louder the rumble grew.

"I know what it is," said Tip, yet before he could say, they rounded an outjut and there before them and plummeting down roared a cataract from a high crevice carved in the sheer wall they had been following. Out from the stone hurtled the Tumble River, to fall thundering into a deep pool a hundred feet below. And a cloaking mist swirled upward to obscure the tall slot carved deeply down into the sheer stone rampart, shrouding what lay beyond.

Now Loric headed toward this cascade, calling out above the roar, " 'Tis Arden Falls, and the secret entrance unto the Hidden Vale lies 'neath."

"Oh, my, but what about our crampon marks?" shouted Tipperton above the roar. "Won't they point to the secret way?"

"Nay," called Loric back, holding out his hand in the swirling vapor. "When the mist falls in our tracks and freezes, it will hide all again. And speaking of freezing, hidden steps lie on this verge and by that way we will go, yet take care, for the mist will have frozen thereupon, and more wetness swirls constantly down. They will be treacherous."

With tilted wide sapphirine eyes Tipperton looked at Beau, only to discover the other buccan looking back at him, his own tilted amber eyes just as wide. And toward the roaring outpour they went, following Loric's lead up an icy slope alongside the sheer bluff.

And the closer they came to the cataract, the louder the roar, and by the time they reached the falls, they could only communicate with one another by hand gestures and facial expressions and the like.

Now they clambered behind the cataract itself, and Loric paused and pointed, and there shielded by the edge of the falls was a narrow ice-covered ledge, layered so thick as to be all but indiscernible against the sheath-covered vertical stone. A barely perceptible rising series of humps below the ice told that these were the steps Loric meant them all to climb, and Tip wondered if the Elf were completely mad. Yet even as the buccan thought so, Loric uncoiled a hank of rope and fastened one end 'round his waist and indicated to the Waerlinga they were to tie on as well, and with Beau in the middle and Tip on the trailing end, toward the steps they went.

And as water roared out of the slot some fifty feet above and plummeted down past them close enough to touch, plunging onward to thunder into the basin some fifty feet below, through churning mist and up the ice-buried stair they fared. Loric slowly clambered upward, seemingly without a concern, the buccen following after, trembling and clinging to knobs of ice jutting up or out of the mass whenever chance afforded. Yet Loric paused often to glance back, and this steadied the Warrows, and then he would turn and move on. But of a sudden the Elf disappeared 'round a jog, and Tipperton fleetingly thought that he and Beau had been cast adrift. And then Beau passed around the same bend, and Tip climbed all alone, with water bellowing past, and billowing mist obscuring the way ahead. Yet he came to the turn and 'round it to find Loric and Beau standing on an ice-laden road and taking up the slack on the line. The road itself came up a slant from the far side of the falls, and was broad enough to bear a spacious wain.

Trembling and weak-kneed, Tip stepped onto the wide surface and away from the brim, and Loric smiled and left them all lashed together as he gestured for the buccan to follow. Up the concealed road they went and into a tunnel beyond, to emerge moments later in a wide vale. And there on the edge of the mist and standing ward were two Elven warriors- silver bugles on baldrics at hand, scabbarded swords harnessed 'cross their backs, saddled horses standing nearby.

Loric gestured at the Guardians, and they signaled back, indicating that the trio was to pass onward. But Loric paused long enough to untie the rope from 'round his waist which bound him to his companions, the Warrows doing likewise, the buccen all the while gazing out upon this wondrous place they had come to.

They had entered a steep-sided gorge no more than a quarter mile wide at this point, through which the Tumble River flowed. And for as far as the eye could see, pine and fir and other evergreens marched away to the north. Yet the War-rows' wits were captured neither by the gorge nor the forest nor the fact that here in the vale the river was sheathed with ice but the snow-laden land was not, unlike the world outside. Instead what arrested their gaze was the tallest tree the buccen had ever seen. Hundreds of feet it towered upward in the near distance, and its leaves seemed somehow to hold a silvery-grey cast, as if twilight had settled within.


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