Sianim 01 - Masques

kind of power. Eyes as clear and innocent as she could manage, she said, “Absolutely not.” Truth, but not quite the truth he’d think it.
    His curiosity satisfied, Myr changed the subject. “I wish I knew how long this weather was going to last. We need to get more meat, and I can’t send the hunters out in this. They don’t have the skills to hunt in the snow. Only two or three of them have the skills to hunt at all, and none are experienced with northern weather.” As he spoke, he paced back and forth restlessly. “And mud. We’re going to have mud everywhere, then we’ll have ice.”
    “Don’t borrow trouble.” Aralorn’s tone was brisk. “If we starve, there is nothing that you can do about it. However, Sheen’s not been getting much exercise lately, and I’m not too bad with a bow. I also know how to set traps if we need to. Keep your hunters home, and I’ll see what I can do for our larder.”
    Myr’s face cleared. “Are you sure? This isn’t good riding.”
    “Sheen’s no stranger to snow, and he’s big enough to break through this with no trouble.”
    She hadn’t intended to leave just then, but the relief on his face kept her from putting it off until afternoon. She recovered her gear from the storage tent, commandeered a pair of boots, and borrowed a crossbow and arrows from one of the erstwhile hunters.
    Sheen snorted and danced while she saddled him, and took off at a dead run when she was only half in the saddle; a dramatic departure that was met with ragged cheers and good-natured laughter. When she was able to pull him up and scold, they were already headed up the main trail out of the valley.
    It wasn’t as difficult to travel once they were out of the valley as the harsh winds had swept the snow away from many places. As long as she stayed out of the gullies and valleys, the deep snow was usually avoidable.
    There were few tracks in the snow. Hunting usually wasn’t her job; she didn’t know the habits of deer after the first good snowfall. She’d have expected them out once the snow started to melt—on the sun-exposed slopes if not the valleys—to eat the revealed greenery before winter came for good. But perhaps they were just staying sheltered. Maybe they knew something about the weather she didn’t.
    She stumbled upon tracks that she’d never seen before. The prints were several hours old and smeared hopelessly by the melting snow. Whatever had made them was big—she found a branch as big around as her leg that the animal had snapped off a tree. She looked at the branch a minute and guided her nervous mount away from the thing’s trail.
    “Anything that big, Sheen, is bound to be too tough and stringy to make good eating. Besides, it would be a pain to drag the body back to camp.” Sounded like a good excuse to her. The big horse snorted at her and increased his speed.
    Several hours later, Aralorn wiped a gloved hand across her nose and squinted against the glare of the sunny snow-covered meadow. The oiled boots that she’d found in Myr’s stockpile worked well to keep out the water. She appreciated them all the more for the fact that all of the rest of her was wet.
    The brush was so laden with heavy wet snow that even riding she got drenched. There was a lot of undergrowth on the steep slope behind them. The sun had melted enough of the snow that water ran down everywhere, making the ground muddy and slick. The light sneezes of the morning had turned into a full-blown plaguing cold.
    “You know, Sheen”—she patted his glossy neck, also somewhat damp—“I think that I would prefer it if it were really cold. At least that way we would be just chilly and not wet, too.”
    She pushed a soggy strand of hair out of her face with a sigh. The sun was starting the trek toward its evening rest, and they hadn’t seen so much as a rabbit. It was unusually bad luck. The camp was far enough off from commonly hunted areas that the game animals were unafraid of people. Just on the walk from the camp to the caves, Aralorn generally saw traces of deer. Today, even the birds were scarce.
    Maybe whatever large beastie left its traces for her to find had scared off all of the prey. She hoped not. That would mean that it was probably something that people should be running from, too. She wished Wolf were here to tell her what it was.
    A grin caught her lip as she thought about what his response to being viewed as a rescuer of Ladies in distress would be. The picture of