Magic's Price

The hills they'd been traversing got progressively steeper and rockier, and by midafternoon they were in the mountains just below the Pass itself.

That was when Vanyel called a halt. Stef was afraid that Van was going to insist on a cold camp - but he didn't. They searched until they found a little half-cave, then spent the rest of the time until dark searching out dead wood. With the provisions the kyree had given them - more dead rabbits than Stef had ever seen at one time in his life - and the fire Van started, they had a camp that was almost as comfortable as the kyree caves.

Stef would have preferred a real bed over the pine boughs and their own cloaks, but that was all they'd have.

Van smiled at him from across the fire, the damage to his clothing and person a bit less noticeable in the dim firelight. “Sorry about the primitive conditions, ashke, but I'd rather not let him know we were coming. Any display of magic will do that. If he's still trying to guess where we are, I'll be a lot happier.”

Stef tore another mouthful of meat off his rabbit-leg, wiped the grease from the corners of his mouth, and nodded. “That's all right, I don't mind, I'm just glad you're not after him the way you were. And I'd rather he didn't know where we were, either! I'm just glad we're finally going to get this over with. Then we can go home and just be ourselves for a while.”

Vanyel blinked, rapidly, then pulled off his glove and rubbed his eyes. “Smoke's bad on this side -” He coughed, then said softly, “Stef, you've been more to me than I can tell you. You've made me so happy - happier than I ever thought I'd be. I - never did as much for you as I'd have liked to. And if it hadn't been for you, back there, I -”

Stef scooted around to Van's side of their tiny fire. “Tell you what -” he said cheerfully. “I'll let you make it up to me. How's that for a bargain?”

Vanyel smiled, and blinked. “I might just do that...”

By midafternoon of the third day, they were into real mountains; though sunlight still illuminated the tops of the white-covered peaks around them, down on the trail they were in chill gloom. Stef shivered, and hoped they'd be stopping soon - then they rounded a curve in the trail and Crookback Pass stretched out before them.

A long, narrow valley, it was as clean a cut between two ranks of mountains as if a giant had cut it with a knife.

Too clean. . . .

Stef took a closer look at the sides of the pass. The rock faces looked natural enough until about ten man- heights above the floor of the pass. From there down they were as sheer as if they had been sliced, and as regular.

“Magic,” Van whispered. “He must have carved every difficult pass from here back north this way. Dear gods - think of the power - think of what it took to mask the power!”

He looked up, above the area that had been carved. “If we walk along the floor of the pass, we'll be walking right into the path of - of anything coming along -”

Stef looked where he was looking and saw what looked like a thin thread of path. “Is that the original pass up there, do you think?”

Van nodded. “Look - see where it joins the route we're on? This is the original trail right up until this point. Then the old trail climbs, and the new one stays level.”

Stef studied the old trail, what he could see of it. “You couldn't bring an army along that - at least not quickly.”

“But you can on this.” Van studied the situation a moment longer. “Let's take the old way as far as we can. We might have to turn back, but I'd rather try the old route first. I'd feel too exposed, otherwise.”

Stef sighed, seeing his hopes for an early halt vanish. “All right, but if I spend the night camped on a ledge, I won't be responsible for my temper in the morning.”

Van turned suddenly and embraced him so fiercely that Stef thought he heard ribs crack. “It's not your temper I'm worried about, ashke,” he whispered. “It's you. I don't want anything to happen to you. I need that, to know you're safe. If I know that, I can do anything I have to.”

Then, just as suddenly as he had turned, he released the Bard. “Let's get going while there's still light,” he said, and began picking his way over the rocks to the old trail. Yfandes nudged Stef with her nose, and he took his place behind Van, with the Companion bringing up the rear.

From then on, he was too busy watching where he put his feet to worry about anything else. The trail was uneven, icy, and treacherous; strewn with spills of boulders that marked previous rockslides. After they came across one pile that had what was clearly a skeletal hand protruding from beneath it, Stef started looking up nervously at every suspicious noise.