Bastion

could, using every muscle in his body to stay in perfect rhythm with the Companion. Were they closer now? They’d been running flat out for a couple of candlemarks or more, and he knew that Companions could achieve incredible speed for very long periods of time. They’d have been about four to six candlemarks away at a simple lope when he first noticed the storm. How far at a gallop? He actually didn’t want to look down, because he knew that the ground would be going past at a rate that would make him dizzy.
    Now he could hear the wind and the storm howling behind them, and the branches of the trees ahead of them and around them lashed the sky as the wind strengthened ahead of the blizzard. The clouds were right overhead, like a shelf of rock overhanging them.
    How far away from the caves were they now? He didn’t recognize anything around them, but then again, there weren’t really any landmarks out here.
    The storm pounced on them.
    Suddenly they were enveloped in streaming curtains of snow, carried on a bitter, bitter wind. He felt Dallen gasp as it hit them, felt him put in extra effort. All he could do was hold on and close his eyes, trying to lend his strength to his Companion and praying with all his might that Dallen wouldn’t trip or stumble into a hole. It had been one thing to run at a full gallop when the track had been clear—but now?
    And then, suddenly, the wind stopped, and Dallen stumbled a little into a walk.
    He opened his eyes.
    They were in the cleft in the rocks that led into The Bastion. They were safe!
    He almost fell off with relief.
    They came through the cleft into the pocket valley, and now into snow falling mostly straight down. And there was a lot of it. Already it was hoof deep here.
    The hills cut the wind but not the snow; it was coming down so hard that it was like being in a thick fog, and despite the fact that it was barely midafternoon, it was as dark as thick dusk. But there were two lights burning through the white, about where the cave entrance should be, and Mags knew that the others had put lanterns out there to guide them in.
    :Feel your way. Walk slow,: he told Dallen sternly. :Don’t need to have run all that way only to break an ankle now! In fact, I’ll get off and help. You just follow me, right on my heels.:
    He slid off Dallen’s back before the Companion could object. Jakyr looked at him oddly through snow coming down so thickly it almost obscured his face, then did the same. Mags took the lead, walking slowly, shuffling through the snow to find any dangerous spots. Dallen walked directly behind him, in his footsteps, Jakyr in Dallen’s, and Jermayan’s in Jakyr’s, as the best way to find a safe path. The floor of the valley was littered with stones, the odd branch, little depressions. Those were not a problem when the ground was clear, but now—step on the wrong thing and a sprained ankle or hock could be the best outcome. Dallen had already suffered one broken leg thanks to Mags; Mags was not going to let him suffer another.
    The cave entrance had never looked so welcoming. When they reached it, Dallen and Jermayan paused to shake off snow that had already managed to build up a good two fingers deep on their saddles, necks and haunches, then trotted down into the stabling area. Mags and Jakyr each took a lantern from the front of the cave and headed into air that felt almost summerlike in comparison with the white hell outside.
    Amily came flying out of the darkness and caught Mags by surprise in a frantic embrace. He managed to keep her from burning herself on the lantern only by a last-moment maneuver that put it over their heads. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to; Mags understood all too well just how frantic and worried she had been. He had been pretty frantic and worried himself!
    When they were done kissing—which in itself was very warming and welcome—they held hands and followed Jakyr down to the blessed light and further warmth of the central area. Lita, Lena, and Bear were already seeing to it that Dallen and Jermayan were rubbed down, blanketed, watered, and fed. The vanners were drowsing, blanketed, and content.
    Mags caught a glorious aroma and peered into the light around the kitchen. There was a tray of pocket pies warming on the top of the stove, which was a very welcome sight indeed. Mags suddenly realized he was absolutely famished.
    From the way Dallen and Jermayan were head down in the grain buckets, they