The Walls of Air Page 0,85

his beard even as he spoke. This is only its aftermath.' On the way south through the sick darkness of the late afternoon, they passed a small herd of bison, half-buried in the drifted snow. The animals stood head-down, crusted with frost, their flesh and blood frozen to rock as they grazed. No wonder, Rudy thought, the Raiders will sacrifice one of their own people, if necessary, to propitiate whatever evil ghost it is that can do that.

It was long after dark before they made camp. Even the freezing desert night was warmer than the daylight after the ice storm. The Raiders set up a tiny war camp with silent efficiency, and Ingold sat awake for a long time by the fire, talking with Hoofprint of the Wind. Rudy could see them through the narrow entrance of his shelter, the flickering touch of the gold light on the chieftain's long braided moustaches and on the scars on Ingold's hands.

After a time Ingold came into the shelter and crawled under the fur robes. The fire outside had almost died. Rudy whispered, 'Ingold? What do you think?'

Ingold's voice murmured back out of the darkness. 'About what?'

'About the ghost, for Chrissake.'

One blue eye and part of a beard appeared from under the shaggy furs. The wizard raised himself up on one elbow. 'I don't believe there is one. Or at least, not as the Raiders fear it. At the bottom of those caverns, I could sense no living thing.'

'You think the Dark left on their own, then?'

'I think it's possible.'

'Could they have been driven out by an ice storm like today's?

Ingold was silent for a moment, considering. Finally he said, 'I hardly think so. To the best of my knowledge, there has never been a previous storm this far south, and the Dark left their Nests in the plains, according to Hoofprint of the Wind, at the time of the first quarter moon of autumn, some seven weeks ago. The Dark are not weather-wise, Rudy. Even the most skilled wizard cannot predict when and where an ice storm will strike more than a few minutes before it happens.'

In the outer darkness, a horse whinnied, a comforting sound. There was no other noise except for the endless groan of the wind. Even the wolves were still.

'Is that what they mean when they say something's as - as unstoppable as the ice in the north? Or as sure as the ice in the north?' Rudy asked.

'Not in reference to the storms, no,' Ingold said. 'In the north you'll find the great ice fields, where nothing can live and where there is nothing but an endless waste of ice. In places the ice is growing as much as an inch a year. In some places, more.' 'Have you been there?'

'Oh, yes. That was long ago. Lohiro and I had I suppose you could call it an errand in the ice, and both of us very nearly froze to death. At that time, the rim of the ice lay along the crest of a fair-sized range of hills that the old maps call the Barrier. The last time I was there, the hills were almost completely buried.'

'Ingold,' Rudy said softly, 'what's the connection? Seven weeks ago was the first quarter moon of autumn. Gae fell. Lohiro and all the wizards in the world cut off contact with everyone and anyone. The Dark disappeared from the Nests in the plains after murdering their herds. What the hell is going on, Ingold? What's happening?'

The old man sighed. 'I don't know, Rudy. I don't know. Is this one more catastrophe in a tale of random catastrophes, or is it all part of a single riddle, with a single key? We have shared this planet with the Dark for all the years of humankind's existence, yet we know nothing about them except that they are our enemies. If there is a key, is it at Quo? Or does the key lie with the Dark themselves, beyond human understanding at all? Or is it in the last place we would look for it, back at the Keep of Dare?'
Chapter 11
The messenger from the Emperor of Alketch came riding up the valley on a rare sunny afternoon, after a week of snows. Most of the Keep was out of doors, working on repairing the mazes of corrals or building new fences for the food compounds, chopping wood or hauling rocks for the projected forge. The cohorts of warriors at exercise under various of