We had emerged from a crevice that overlooked a steep slope. My guardians laughed. Before I could deduce the reason, I flew through cold darkness, then hit frozen snow. I broke through the crust, found my balance and rolled to my feet. Darkness surrounded me and when I took a step, I stumbled, fell, slid, regained my feet, fell and slid some more. I was clad only in the wool robe and felted shoes the Pale Woman had given me. It was small protection. Snow found me and clung to me, melting on my sweaty face and then cooling swiftly. My left arm was a thing that flopped and flailed against me. I finally found my footing and looked up and back whence I had come. Clouds obscured the night sky and the usual wind was blowing. I could not see any sign of an entry to the Pale Woman's realm. I knew that the blowing snow would very soon obscure all trace of my tracks.

If I did not go back now, I'd never find it again.

If I went back there now, what good could I do? My left arm hung useless and I had no weapons at all.

But a stone dragon was slowly devouring the Fool.

I stood and staggered up the hill, trying to find my own trail where I had slid. The slope became too steep. I felt 1 was treading in place, making no uphill progress and all the while getting colder. I swung wide of my trodden trail and tried again to force my way up through the snow. The wool of the robe grew heavy with clinging snow and was no protection at all to my bared legs. I lost my balance, and holding my injured arm tight to my chest, fell and rolled downhill. For a time, I just lay there, panting. Then, as I struggled to my feet, I saw a tiny yellow light in the vale below me.

I stood and stared at it, trying to resolve what it was. It bobbed with the rhythm of a man walking. It was a lantern, and someone was carrying it. It could be one of the Pale Woman's people. What worse could they do to me than what had been done? It might be someone from our camp. It might be a total stranger.

1 lifted my voice and shouted through the wind. The lantern halted. I shouted again, and again, and suddenly the lantern began moving again. Toward me. I breathed a prayer, addressed to any god who would help me, and began a staggering slide down the hill. With every step I took, I slid three, and soon I was running, trying to leap through the snow to avoid sprawling face down in it. The lantern had halted at the bottom of the slope.

But, when I was almost close enough to make out the shape of the man holding it, the lantern resumed its bobbing motion. He was walking away and leaving me. I shouted, but he did not pause. A terrible sob welled up in me. I couldn't go on any further by myself, and yet I must. My teeth were chattering, my whole body aching as the cold stiffened the bruises from my beating, and he was leaving me there. I staggered after him. I shouted twice more,

but the lantern didn't pause. I tried to hurry, but I could not seem to get any closer to it. I reached the place where the light-bearer had briefly paused, and after that I followed his broken trail through the snow, finding the going a bit easier.

I don't know how long I walked- The dark, the cold and the pain in my shoulder made it seem an endless trudge through night and wind. My feet hurt and then grew numb. My calves were scalded with the cold. I followed him across the face of a hill, and along a ridge, down into a dip, ploughing through deeper snow, and then began a long, slow climb across another slope. I could not feel my feet and did not know if my flimsy shoes were still on them or not. The robe slapped against me as 1 walked, whipping my calves with its frosty burden of clinging snow. And with every step I took, I knew the Fool was still shackled to the dragon, hunching wearily away from the stone that would, at a touch, plunder him of his humanity.

Then, miraculously, the swinging of the lantern stopped. Whoever my guide was, he was now awaiting me at the top of the ridge we had gradually ascended. I shouted again from my raw throat and redoubled my efforts. Closer 1 drew, and closer, bowing rny head against a wind which was angrier along the ridge top. Then, as I again lifted my eyes to mark my progress, I saw clearly who held the lantern and awaited me.

It was the Black Man.

A nameless dread filled me, and yet, having followed him that far, what else was I to do but go on? I came closer, close enough that when he lifted the lantern, I could briefly make out the aquiline features inside his black hood. Then he set the lantern down by his feet and waited. 1 clutched my arm to my chest and staggered uphill doggedly. The light grew brighter, but I could no longer see the Black Man standing beside it. When I reached the lantern, I found it resting upon an outcrop of rock that protruded through the shallower snow on the windswept ridge.

The Black Man was gone.

I used my right arm to lower my left hand to my side as gently as I could. My shoulder screamed when my left arm dangled its full weight, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it. 1 picked up

the lantern and held it aloft and shouted. I saw nothing of the Black Man, only blowing snow. I trudged on, following his trail. It ended in a wind-scoured ridge of rock. But in the next valley, not far below me, I saw the dimly lit tents of our camp and I immediately abandoned all thoughts of the Black Man. Below were friends, warmth and possible rescue for the Fool. I staggered through the snow toward the tents, calling out Chade's name. At my second shout, Longwick roared a challenge up at me.

'It's me, it's Fitz. No, I mean, it's Tom, it's me!' I doubt that he deciphered anything I said. I was hoarse from shouting and competing with the wind. I well recall my deep relief when I saw the other men stumbling from their tents and lanterns being kindled and held aloft. I staggered and slid down the hill toward them as they fanned out to meet me. I recognized Chade's silhouette and then the Prince's. There was no squat Thick amongst them, and I felt a sob build in my chest. Then I was finally within hearing of the line of men, breathlessly calling, 'It's me, it's Tom, let me through, let me in, I'm so cold. Where is Thick, did you find Thick?'

From their midst a broad-shouldered man stepped forth, past Longwick who tried vainly to motion him back. He ran three strides toward me, and I took a deep, unbelieving breath of his scent just before he enfolded me in a bear hug. Despite the pain to my shoulder, I didn't struggle. I dropped my head on his shoulder, and let him support me, feeling safer than I had in years. Suddenly, it seemed as if everything would be all right, as if everything could be mended. Heart of the Pack was here and he had never let us come to harm.

Over my bent head, Burrich spoke to Chade angrily. 'Just look at him! I always knew I never should have trusted him to you. Never!'

In the chaos that had erupted, I stood still on my icy feet, ignoring the shouted questions around me. Burrich spoke by my ear. 'Easy, lad. I'm here to take you home, both of you, you and my Swift. You should have come home years ago. What were you thinking? Whatever were you thinking?'

'I have to kill the dragon,' I told him. 'As soon as possible. If I kill the dragon, she'll let the Fool live. I have to cut off Iccfyre's head, Burrich. I must.'

'If you must, then you will,' he said comfortingly. 'But not right this moment.' Then, to Swift, 'Stop gawking, boy. Fetch dry clothes and make food and hot tea for him. Quickly.'

I gratefully surrendered myself to the steady hands I had always trusted. He steered me through the cluster of staring men to the Prince's tent, where my heart nearly broke with relief at the sight of Thick sitting up sleepily on his pallet. He looked none the worse for wear, and even seemed glad to see me until he was told he'd have to move his bed for the night to make room for me. He went off with Longwick in charge of him, but not graciously. Thick had Skilled to Chade and the Prince as soon as we'd vanished in the crevice and Chade had immediately sent Longwick and Cockle to fetch him back. He'd spent a miserable night sitting 'on the sled in the cold, with only his Skill-contact to sustain him. When his rescuers had reached him the next day, they'd found no sign of Lord Golden and me except for the sunken snow that had filled the crevasse.