But there was no stream to guide them now, and little moonlight. In minutes, they had blundered into a thicket. Swords came out to hack through. At last, they broke into a high glade and ran beneath the moon.

Behind them, charr blades battered through the thicket.

Logan and his team ran between two stands of pine and into a narrow valley striped with moon shadows. Blindly they rushed forward and into a steep stone wall.

"Find a way out!" growled Logan.

"There's no way out!" Wescott replied. "A box canyon."

"Try climbing! Find anything to grab hold of," commanded Logan.

The scouts fumbled in the darkness along the rock walls.

Then a light dawned-a fiery light. The scouts turned to see a flaming sword sliding from a stone scabbard. The light sketched out a lionish face, grinning with fangs and eyes that smiled red. The charr stalked forward, towering over the man, and thrust his flaming sword high.

Logan pulled his war hammer from his belt and stepped up. "Wedge formation behind me."

The scouts lifted their weapons and positioned themselves.

The charr with the burning sword spoke. "At last, the rats are cornered."

Logan flashed a c.o.c.keyed smile. "We took out a few of you."

"And now, we'll take out all all of you," the charr growled. Around him, more charr warriors marched up, slinging their axe-rifles down and pointing them at the humans. Their leader shouted, "Fire!" of you," the charr growled. Around him, more charr warriors marched up, slinging their axe-rifles down and pointing them at the humans. Their leader shouted, "Fire!"

The rifles roared, hurling out a barrage of smoke and lead.

LITTLE PEOPLE, BIG PROJECTS.

Hel-looo? Hel-loooo?"

The black dire wolf raised his head from the warm blanket and blinked at the workshop door-way.

No one was there.

"Hel-looo? Heeeel-looooooo?"

Eir s.h.i.+fted on her bed, lifting a tangle of red hair to look toward the door. She didn't see anyone, either.

The voice spoke again. "n.o.body's home."

Another voice answered, "Maybe they're sleeping in."

"Sleeping in? Are you crazy? The greatest norn artist of her generation isn't sleeping in."

"Well, she's probably working. Famous sculptor and all. She's probably off carving something."

"She's not working. This This is her workshop, isn't it?" is her workshop, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," said Eir Stegalkin, rolling out of bed and standing, "and her bedroom." She looked toward the door and blinked. "Oh, there you are." her bedroom." She looked toward the door and blinked. "Oh, there you are."

Garm quirked his eyebrows and stood also, seeing at last two little people standing in the doorway. They came up only to the belt of a norn, and they were gray, with giant ears swept back from their childlike faces. One was male, dressed in a greatcoat over a b.u.t.toned-up vest and brown trousers. He wore two large gauntlets with gems hovering over the backs of them. The other figure was female, decked in bluish body armor that looked jury-rigged, as if she changed its dimensions constantly. Despite their strange voices, they looked intently serious.

"Oh, there there you are," said the slightly taller creature. "Eir Stegalkin, I presume. I'm Master Snaff of Rata Sum, asura genius. I've been told you're the best." you are," said the slightly taller creature. "Eir Stegalkin, I presume. I'm Master Snaff of Rata Sum, asura genius. I've been told you're the best."

"Told by whom?" Eir asked. Asura. Of course they would be asura. Short, smart, and irritating.

Snaff smiled, bowing. "I cannot reveal my sources." The younger asura shot him an annoyed look, as if he often revealed his sources. Unperturbed, Snaff continued, "This is my a.s.sociate, Zojja, genius-in-training."

She also bowed, but her scowl only deepened.

"We've come for a commission," Snaff said.

"I'm not accepting commissions," Eir replied.

The little man wandered into the workshop, glancing sidelong at the statues that towered all around. "Really? What are all these, then?"

"I mean, I'm no longer no longer accepting commissions." accepting commissions."

Garm trotted up behind the male asura, who reached only his shoulders. The wolf snuffled the creature's greatcoat, which smelled of swamp water and fern spores.

Snaff seemed none too concerned with having a big black wolf hounding his steps. "Well, that's a shame, an artist of your caliber no longer taking commissions. There are only three possible reasons: One, that you are retired, which clearly you cannot be, given your age and the bits of stone and wood all over your floor; two, that you've somehow gone haywire, which your hair does seem to indicate-"

"I just got up!"

"Or three, that you have found your subjects of late unworthy of your genius, which judging from this rogues' gallery of puffed-up posers, I would guess to be the reason."

"You have guessed well, little master." Eir stepped into a pair of trousers and drew them on beneath her nights.h.i.+rt. "I am tired of watching fools go to their deaths."

Snaff smiled, spreading his hands. "We're not fools."

"But she just said she liked liked fools," said the apprentice. fools," said the apprentice.

"I didn't."

Zojja dragged a finger through a pile of shavings on the floor. "You said you are tired of watching fools go to their deaths. If you hated them, you would never tire of this. Ergo, you must like like them." them."

"You may have have something there," Eir conceded. something there," Eir conceded.

"Well, then I suppose," Snaff replied, looking askance at his apprentice, "I would be wise to say that we are are fools. Except that fools aren't wise, in which case my apprentice's inquisitiveness has once again landed us in a conundrum." fools. Except that fools aren't wise, in which case my apprentice's inquisitiveness has once again landed us in a conundrum."

"Once again," Zojja said almost pridefully.

A grin was fighting its way onto Eir's face. "Hypothetically speaking-"

"I love love hypotheses!" Snaff broke in. hypotheses!" Snaff broke in.

"-if I were were taking commissions, whose image would you want?" taking commissions, whose image would you want?"

Snaff's grin grew from Eir's own. "My a.s.sistant's, of course."

Eir looked at the petulant young asura and asked, "Why?"

Snaff shrugged. "She's got a good head on her shoulders. And that's all I want. A head and shoulders."

"Well," Eir said, "that's a pretty small statue. I'm a pretty-big-statue maker. Maybe you'll want to find a smaller sculptor."

"Except that her head needs to be five times taller," Snaff said.

Zojja shot him a look of annoyance.

"I suppose that is a commission worthy of my talents, but it'll cost you. Twenty silver."

"A bargain," said Snaff, reaching beneath his greatcoat to grasp a bag on his belt. "This will be a bust in stone, of course."

"In wood, of course," Eir clarified. "It'd be twenty gold for stone."

"Ah," said Snaff, reaching to the other side of his belt. "Then gold it will be. Twenty, did you say?" He opened the bag, a pile of coins s.h.i.+mmering within the burlap.

Eir's eyes widened as she peered at the bag.

She snagged her leather ap.r.o.n, mallet, and chisel belt and led the way outside into the courtyard. The others followed. She guided them along her stock of boles and boulders. "This one is granite, which is very hard. This one is marble-too expensive in this case. Here we have columnar basalt. This is limestone. . . ."

"Basalt!" exclaimed Snaff. "That's volcanic rock, yes?"

"Yes," said Eir, standing beside a large gray chunk. "And this one is particularly dense."

"Perfect for depicting my student!"

Zojja hit him.

Eir c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at Zojja. "You should show more respect for your master."

Snaff rubbed the spot she had hit and smiled tightly. "Most asura a.s.sistants get browbeaten by their masters. With Zojja, it's the other way around."

"Why do you put up with it?" Eir asked.

Zojja glared. "I'm not sure if that's your business, giantkin."

Eir stared back. "Your master might put up with your abuse, but I will not."

"Now, now," said Snaff, chuckling lightly. "It's quite flattering to have you two fight over me."

Both women gaped at him in amazement.

"I think I understand," said Eir to Zojja.

Snaff just beamed. "Well, good then. All things are mended. Let's get started. Zojja, why don't you stand over there in the light? . . . Yes. Excellent. And, of course, Eir, you know where to stand. And I'll step out of the way so that neither of you can hit me."

Eir stepped up before the block of basalt, drew a large chisel from her belt, set it to the stone, and lifted the mallet above her head. "Wolf, guide my hands." She brought the mallet down, shearing off a chunk of stone.

Basalt was a tricky medium, formed of cooled lava. The question was how it cooled-quickly beneath the ocean or slowly on land. Land was better. This particular stone had come from the throat of a long-dead volcano. It had cooled slowly, and it was amorphous, without striations. As Eir worked into the block, she sensed it had no hidden faults or fissures that could split her work. It was solid.

As was her model. This annoying little creature had a solid will. She held her nose up and remained still, seeming to sense the importance of this moment.

Eir worked the stone to bring forth Zojja's features. That lemon-shaped head, those great eyes, her b.u.t.ton nose, her small, determined mouth, her perky chin . . . but hardest of all were those ears-shaped like a rabbit's, but swept back from her forehead so they seemed almost like small wings.

"How's it coming?" asked the apprentice.

Eir wished she hadn't moved. Her previous expression had been perfect-focused and slightly proud, willful and determined. Now the lines had s.h.i.+fted to dubious and frustrated. "Well," Eir replied, "could you try to get the old look back?"

"What old look?"

"The look that you are smarter than everyone else and that they will be shocked when they realize it." Suddenly, the look was back, and Eir s.h.i.+fted to a smaller chisel to capture it.

Nearby, Snaff idly sized up a floor-to-ceiling drake in alabaster. "It's good to be immortalized, my dear. Most apprentices don't make it, you know." He turned toward Eir. "Maybe you didn't realize that, but they're always handling caustic substances, building precarious mechanisms. . . . Unless they're clever, they just don't make it."

"And Zojja, here, is clever?" Eir asked as she finished the little snarl beneath Zojja's right nostril.

"She's here," Snaff pointed out.

Eir stepped back from her sculpture. "Yes. I suppose she is. In both ways. The likeness is complete. Come see."

The two asura walked toward the sculpture with the numb air of people who cannot believe what they see. Though the statue was five times the actual height of Zojja, it was dead-on. Eir had captured not only the young asura's expression but also her personality.

Zojja's look of wonder slowly soured. "Why did you have to make me look so big?"

"It's five times actual height," Eir replied.

"Four times would have been enough," Zojja snapped. "It's fine. Fine."

"It's perfect," said Snaff. "Thank you very much! It was certainly worth the coin." He turned to his apprentice and said, "All right, now. Let's take this back with us."

Zojja scooted to the opposite side of the stone bust. She and her master set their fingers beneath the carving. "One, two, three!"

The two asura struggled, trying to lift the five-hundred-pound block, but not moving it an inch.

Eir stood above them, arms folded.

Snaff looked up at her and t.i.ttered nervously. "I wish I had more coin to pay you to carry this."

Eir smiled. "You have have more coin. You were about to pay me in silver before I asked for gold." more coin. You were about to pay me in silver before I asked for gold."

Snaff blushed around a tight-lipped smile. "Oh, all right-"