like some living thing, but it was neither human nor any animal that he recognized. 'It is imbued with the Rune of the Veil,' Ingold explained, 'the rune that turns aside the eyes and the mind. It will by no means make you invisible, but it may help you on your journey.'
The Icefalcon inclined his head in thanks, while Ingold pulled on his worn blue mittens and wound ten feet of knitted grey muffler around his neck, so that the ends fluttered like banners in the chilly winds. Around the corner of the Keep, a gaggle of the herdkids appeared, Keep orphans in charge of looking after the stock. Most of them were running aimlessly, shrieking with laughter and hurling snowballs as if they hadn't been playing keep-away with death through the night. But a couple of them were leading a donkey, a scrawny miserable beast with the Earth Cross of the Faith branded on one bony hip. The donkey represented a major victory for Alwir and Ingold, since the Church owned most of the stock in the Kep. Rudy suspected Govannin had had the thing exorcised and blessed.
Other shadows appeared in the darkness of the gates. Alwir stepped forth into the wan light, dark and elegant and as unmarred as the walls, followed by Janus, Melantrys, Gnift of the Guards, and Tomec Tirkenson, who in a few days would himself be leaving with his troops, his stock, and his followers, to take the long road over the Pass to Gettlesand. Of Govannin the Bishop of Gae, there was no sign. True to her word, she would have no truck with the tools of Satan, nor lend her countenance to their endeavour.
Ingold left his friends and walked up the steps toward the Chancellor, Rudy heard the drift of words, Alwir's voice deep and melodious, Ingold's reply warm and grainy. He glanced sideways at Gil and saw her looking hard and strained, her eyes narrowed and cold. He felt the tension rising off her like smoke, misery and worry and fear. Well, hell, why not? he thought. If the old man buy sit out on the plains, she's in for a long stay.
We both are. The thought was frightening.
'Hey, spook!'
She glanced forbiddingly at him.
'Take care of yourself while we're gone, okay?"
She evidently told herself to relax and did so, slightly. 'I'm not the one who's gonna need taking care of,' she said. 'All I have to do is sit tight and keep the door shut.'
It was on the tip of Rudy's tongue to ask Gil to look after Aide for him, but on second thought, he couldn't imagine someone as tough and hard-hearted as Gil getting along with the shy, retiring Minalde.
Gil sighed. 'Have a good trip, punk,' she added. 'Don't screw up and turn yourself into a frog.'
'At this point, I doubt he could manage even that,' Ingold said judiciously, coming back down to them. The rulers of the Keep were disappearing back into the shadows of the gates. After a moment the Icefalcon followed them, his dark cloak sweeping the loose powder snow that sprinkled the steps. 'For the present he's quite harmless.' 'Thanks loads,' Rudy grumbled. 'Enjoy it,' Ingold urged. There's a great deal to be said for being unable to destroy inadvertently those whom you love. And you surely will not be harmless by the time we return, if we return.'
The pair of you,' Rudy sighed, 'are the worst couple of pessimists I've ever met in my life. No wonder you get along so well.'
Gil and Ingold unconsciously closed ranks against the common foe. 'Clear analysis of any situation,' Ingold declared, 'is often mistaken for pessimism.' The two shouldn't be confused,' Gil added. 'I'll explain the difference to you one day.' Thanks,' Rudy said glumly. 'I'll look forward to it.' He turned and started down the steps. For a moment Ingold and Gil stood alone before the doors of the Keep, but Rudy was collecting the lead-rope of the burro from the head herdkid and did not see what, if anything, passed between them there. A moment later the wizard came down to join him, huddling deeper into his dark mantle against the stinging wind. As they plowed their way along the buried path toward the road that would take them through and over Sarda Pass, Rudy glanced back once, to see Gil standing on the steps, her bruised hands tucked into her sword belt, watching them go. An icy skiff of breeze dashed blown snow into