Sword of Ice and Other Tales of Valdemar

me,' she coughed, rubbing the spot where the saddle horn had slammed into her throat, 'not to do that again. All right, Shining One, I'll have to get off the same way I got on.'

His movement took her by surprise. She grabbed for the saddle, her cold fingers slipped on the wet leather, and she dismounted a lot farther from the ground than she'd intended.

A warm muzzle pushed into her face as she lay there for a moment, trying to get her breath back. 'I'm okay,' she muttered. 'Just a little winded.' Teeth gritted against the pain in her stumps, she pushed herself up.

Soft lips nuzzled at her hair.

'Don't worry, Shining One.' Tentatively she reached out and stroked the Companion's velvet nose. 'I'll get your Herald out. There's enough of me left for that' She tossed her head and turned toward the mine, not needing eyes to find the gaping hole in the hillside. Icy winds dragged across her cheeks, and she knew by their touch that they'd danced through the Demon's Den before they came to her.

'Now, then . . .' She was pleased to hear that her voice remained steady. '... we need to work out a way to communicate. At the risk of sounding like a bad Bardic tale, how about one whicker for yes and two for no?'

There was a single, soft whicker just above her head.

'Good. First of all, we have to find out how badly he ...' A pause. 'Your Herald is a he?' At the Companion's affirmative, she went on. '. . . how badly he's hurt. Ask him if he has any broken bones.'

:I don't know. I can't move enough to tell.:

Ari frowned at the answer. 'Yes and no? Is he buried?'

:Only half of me.:

:Chosen, I have no way to tell her that.:

.•Then, yeah, I guess I'm buried.:

'Shit.' There could be broken bones under the rock, the pressure keeping the Herald from feeling the pain. Well, she'd just have to deal with that when she got to it. 'Is he buried in the actual mine, or in a natural cave?'

:She seems to think it's good you're in a natural cave.:

jots traced the rock that curved away from him with his free hand. His fingers were so numb he could barely feel it. :Why?:

:I can't ask her that, Chosen. She wants to know if you turned left around a corner, about thirty feet in from the entrance to the mine.:

:Left?: He tried to remember, but the cold had seeped into his brain and thoughts moved sluggishly through it.

'I—I guess so.'

'Okay.' Ari tied one end of the rope around her waist as she spoke. 'Ask him if the quake happened within, say, twenty feet of that corner.'

.7 don't know. I don't remember. Gevris, I'm tired. Just stay with me while I rest.:

:No! Mean-brother, do not go to steep. Think, please, were you close to the comer?:

He remembered seeing the blood. Then stopping and looking into the hole in the side of the tunnel. :Yes. I think no more than twenty feet.:

'Good. We're in luck, there's only one place on this level where the cave system butts up against the mine. I know approximately where he is. He's close.' She reached forward and sifted a handful of rubble. 'I just have to get to him.'

A hundred feet of rope would reach the place where the quake threw him out of the mine, but, after that, she could only hope he hadn't slid too deep into the catacombs.

Turning to where she could feel the bulk of the Companion, Ari's memory showed her a graceful white stallion, outlined against the night. 'Once I get the rope around him, you'll have to pull him free.'

He whickered once and nudged her and she surrendered to the urge to bury face and fingers in his mane. When she finally let go, she had to bite her lip to keep from crying. 'Thanks. I'm okay now.'

Using both arms at once, then swinging her body forward between them, Ari made her way into the mine, breathing in the wet, oily scent of the rock, the lingering odors of the lanterns Dyril and the others had used, and the stink of fear, old and new. At the first rockfall she paused, traced the broken pieces, and found the passage the earlier rescue party had dug.

Her shoulder brushed a timber support and she hurried past the memories.

A biting gust of wind whistled through a crack up ahead, flinging grit up into her face. 'Nice try,' she muttered. 'But you threw me into darkness five summers ago and I've learned my way around.' Then she raised her voice. 'Shining One, can you still hear me?' The Companion's whicker echoed eerily. 'You don't need to worry about him running out of air, this place is like a sieve, so remind your Herald to keep moving. Tell him to keep flexing his muscles if that's all he can do. He's got to keep the blood going out to the extremities.'

:What extremities?: Jors heard himself giggle and wondered what there was to laugh about.

:Chosen, listen to me. You know what the cold can do. You have to move.:

:I know that.: Everyone knew that. It wasn't like he hadn't been paying attention when they'd been teaching winter survival skills, it was just, well, it was just so much effort.

:Wiggle your toes!:

Gevris somehow managed to sound exactly like the Weaponsmaster, and Jors found himself responding instinctively. To his surprise, his toes still wiggled. And it still hurt. The pain burned some of the frost out of his brain and left him gasping for breath, but he was thinking more clearly than he had been in some time. With his Companion's encouragement, he began to systematically work each muscle that still responded.

The biggest problem with digging out the Demon's Den had always been that the rock shattered into pieces so small it was like burrowing through beads in a box. The slightest jar would sent the whole crashing to the ground.

Her eyes in her fingertips, Ari inched toward the buried Herald, not digging but building a passageway, each stone placed exactly to hold the weight of the next. Slowly, with exquisite care, she moved up and over the rockfall that had nearly killed Neegan. She lightly touched the splintered end of the shattered support, then went on. She had no time to mourn the past.

Years of destruction couldn't erase her knowledge of the mine. She'd been trapped in it for too long.

'Herald? Can you hear me?'

Jors turned his face toward the sudden breeze. 'Yes . . .' -.Gevris, she's here!:

:Good.: Although he sounded relieved, Jors realized the Companion didn't sound the least bit surprised.

:You knew she'd make it.:

Again the strange tone the Herald didn't recognize. .7 believed her when she said she'd get you out.:

'Cover your head with your hands, Herald.'

Startled, he curved his left arm up and around his head just in time to prevent a small shower of stones from ringing off his skull.

'I'm on my way down.'

A moment later he felt the space around him fill, and a rough jacket pressed hard against his cheek.

'Sorry. Just let me get turned.'

Turned? Teeth chattering from the cold, he strained back as far as he could but knew it would make little difference. There wasn't room for a cat to turn let alone a person. To his astonishment, his rescuer seemed to double back on herself.

'Ow. Not a lot of head room down here.'

From the sound of her voice and the touch of her hands, she had to be sitting tight up against his side, her upper body bent across his back. He tried to force his half-frozen mind to work. 'Your legs . . .'

'Are well out of the way, Herald. Trust me.' Ari danced her fingers over the pile of rubble that pinned him. 'Can you still move your toes.'