"Sorry, Archie. Should have warned you." Rankil reached into the opening. "Take a look at this." She pulled out a weapon for them to see, a loaded handgun.

"What does it do?" inquired Myrla.

"Take Hestra and follow me." They made their way back to the main hatch. "The first time I handled it I accidentally set it off," explained Rankil as they stepped outside. "Was that ever a mistake."

"Why?" asked Archell.

"This is why." She aimed then squeezed the trigger, blasting into the snow fifty yards away. The others jumped at the bang, Hestra screaming her fear of the sound. "When it went off inside, it bounced around, almost hitting me before it stuck in the empty chair."

"But it was just a noise." Myrla placed Hestra in Archell's arms and took the weapon into her hands, observing the metal casing, the curve of the trigger guard.

"Don't point the hollow end toward anyone!" Rankil snatched the gun from her hands. "It's more than noise. Look at where the snow was disturbed."

Myrla dug into the snow around the impact site. "Is this what flew from it?" She held up the warm slug. "This little thing doesn't seem like much."

"But it moved so fast we couldn't see," Archell was beginning to understand Rankil's respect for the weapon. "Dug a hole where the hard ground should be."

"Point taken." Myrla extended her hand. "I'll be careful. Promise. I just want to hold it." She turned away and held the gun's butt end to her cheek, eyes focusing down the barrel. "Seems easy enough. Does it have an endless supply of those things it spits out?"

"No." Rankil eased the barrel down and slid open the firing chamber. "It holds six. There are more inside. More of these weapons, too, in various sizes. They discharge different types of metal, but the effect is similar." She tossed a shell to Archell. "The metal is pressed inside these cases until it's used. I disassembled one of the whole ones. There's black powder inside. I think it's what pushed the pieces apart, but I don't know how."

"Now we know why she's been spending so much time hunting, don't we Archell?" Myrla relinquished her hold on the firearm. "What other discoveries did you make?"

"Let's go back inside, and I'll show you." Rankil held back the vines and motioned Archell through. With Hestra in the crook of his arm, he pushed back into the corridor. When Myrla followed, Rankil stopped her in the hatchway, drawing her in for a kiss. "Got to steal one when I can, pretty," she whispered into Myrla's ear. "Not much gets by Archell."

"Kaelan's faith in me is strong," he called from within. "Come along."

"Ah, Archie." Myrla grinned at her frustration.

"She's behaving horribly, Archell." Myrla stretched up to give Rankil a light peck on the cheek. "Simply awful." She darted into the corridor. "Come on."

"On my way." Rankil paused to touch her damp cheek, relishing the warmth rising from deep within her body. It was pure heat, an excitement difficult to ignore. She desired to touch Myrla again, to share her thoughts in the deepest way possible. When the emotions became overwhelming, threatening to spill from her mind, she shuddered and rushed to where the others waited.

"Rankil dankle?" Archell sat in the empty pilot's chair, Hestra perched on his knee, her blue eyes wide to the stimulus of his gentle bounce. As Rankil watched, she found herself longing to be Hestra's raiser, she and Myrla responsible for the little girl's upbringing. They could be a family to themselves, no one to say they were too young, no one to- "Rankil?"

"Huh?"

Archell nodded toward the console.

"Um, yeah." She sat at the control panel. "Most of these things don't work. But the ones that do-" The view screen burst back to life, concluding her sentence.

"Why, it's the area outside the mound!" declared Myrla, staring at the screen. "How did you do that?"

Rankil guided her hand to the panel. "Like this."

"Good Mother!" The screen blurred then came back into focus when Myrla ceased moving her hand. "It's this side of the mountains we crossed coming into the bowl. Remember them, Archell?"

"I carried our Rankil across them. She looked much younger then, sleeping in my arms."

"I've grown." Rankil squared her shoulders. "Besides, you're not much older or any bigger than I am, Archie."

"Not anymore." His bounce reduced to a lazy rock and Hestra gurgled her approval. "Can that, that, picture guide show us more?"

"Like what?" Myrla sat ready at the controls.

"Our cavern?"

"I'll give it a try." The screen blurred again, the snowscape whirling by until familiar landmarks came into view. Then Myrla slowed, settling the screen onto the entrance of their underground home. "Everyone must be inside." She began to move the image back.

"Hold a minute, My. Turn back slow." Rankil squinted at the screen. "I thought I saw-Wait! Stop! There it is! Great Mother! Don't you see it? Look!" Rankil pointed to faint indentations in the snow. "Look! Nassie tracks! And they're wearing Aut booties! Kaelan and Jewel! We've got to get home!"

Rankil tucked two firearms and a box of shells into her tunic then led the way across the snowfield.

"Hurry!" cried Myrla as they began to slow their pace. "We've got to stop them!"

Rankil caught her hard by the arm, pulling her down on the drift they climbed. "They're already here."

"But, Jewel and Kaelan," Myrla said in a lower voice. "The little ones. We have to-"

"We can't rush in." Rankil reloaded the gun's empty chamber. "You and Archell stay out of sight while I see what we're up against." She dropped to her knees beside Myrla. "Do as I ask, My. Stay low."

"I will," whispered Myrla. "But if you don't return soon, I'm leaving Hestra with Archell and coming looking for you." She brushed the hair from Rankil's eyes.

Rankil looked toward the cavern then back to Myrla. There was so much she wanted to say, to express at that moment. A sense of desperation similar to the one she had felt in Tisph's grasp filled her heart, enveloping her until she had only one course of action. You won't lose me that easily. I love you.

Myrla shivered at the mental touch. Love-me? Only Jewel and Kaelan had ever linked to her and then it had been in a raiser's fashion, soothing panic, taking away physical hurt. This was different, almost threatening in its lack of control. Rankil, I-I- Shhh. It's difficult for me, too. Kaelan swore she'd skin me if I tried this before we came of age.

Archell's watching.

I don't care. I had to let you know how I feel.

I need you, too, but this is hard. It makes me feel funny, almost sick.

Then we'll stop. Rankil pulled back. The entire exchange had taken no more than a second, but the effect lingered, leaving Myrla's head swimming. "I'll be back soon. Do you have your knife?"

"Always." Myrla drew her blade from her waist pack. "Just come back with good news."

"Knowing Kaelan's swordsmanship and Jewel's knife work, the battle will be over. And I bet Jewel is calming Olitti. You know how excitable she can be." Rankil looked up to Archell, who nodded his readiness.

"Keep safe." She stayed beside Myrla a second more, caressing her hair, then crept belly down toward the cavern, the winter white of her cloak fading her into the snowy backdrop.

The cavern was empty, pottery and foodstuffs scattered to ruin, the fire high with scrolls and linens. Kaelan's bow lay in pieces. Rankil stamped out the least singed of the bedrolls and returned to the livestock chamber, her terror rising with every step. The milker was dead, finishing what Sharillia had started. How would they feed Hestra now?

As she slid out the entrance, she found herself repeating one of Archell's tunes, his running song, the words choking her throat as she glanced toward where the others hid. Nassie snorts cut into the crisp air, rising against a pair of excited Autlach baritones.

"Look what I've found!" A bearded Autlach held Myrla's knife-wielding hand. "You weren't going to cut me, were you, girl?" She kicked his shins as Hestra bawled in the sling across her chest.

"Too nice a blade for that." The Autlach squeezed her wrist until her grip loosened. He cut the sling free and held Hestra up by the strap. "Longpass was right. Sharillia was fat with another Taelach runt. This one looks just like his eldest."

"Get rid of it before he gets here," hissed the man binding Archell's wrists. "I don't like the way he fixes Sharillia's mistakes."

The first man stared at Hestra for a moment then held her at arm's length. "Not me. You do it. I can't kill a babe, even a white witch."

"Coward!" Archell's captor shoved him to the ground and grabbed Hestra's sling.

"No!" Archell lurched forward, wrapped his legs around the man holding Hestra, and jerked with all his might, sending the infant sliding down the far side of the drift. Her assailant fell behind her, tumbling head over heel, a target Rankil twice overshot before hitting. He fell prone and skidded into Hestra, knocking her further down the hill. The baby shrieked as her slide ended under a shrub, her cries more of cold and distress than any injury she'd received.

The noise brought the other Autlach to the top of the drift, his hands wrapped around Myrla's throat. "I don't know what you did, but put the noisemaker down before I break her neck."

When Rankil complied, he ventured a glance at Archell. "Taelach witchery can't be undone."

Archell took small steps forward. "The only lies are from Autlach tongues-Acid with deceit-The Taelach wish to live in peace-They have no quarrel, no wish to cheat."

"A singing idiot!" laughed the man, taking a backward step. "They've messed you up but good."

He glanced again to Rankil. "Come up here, broadback, hands over your head."

"I'll do as you say," she said in her fluent Autlach. "Do what you want with me but don't hurt her."

"Yours, is she?" The man loosened his grip enough for Myrla to gasp. "One of you is going to die for killing an Aut." He gave Rankil an appraising glance. "But you'll bring a higher price at the crystal mines, broadback, so I think I'll kill the girl." He pulled Myrla close to taste her neck. "But not quite yet."

As the color drained from Myrla's face, a rage like none other twisted in Rankil's soul. She knew what Myrla felt, the disgust, the terror, the very terror. And, suddenly, Rankil found herself not in the snow but at Granny Terry's. Tisph was pulling her head back with the belt, laughing at her helplessness. His hands became talons that scratched her back, his mouth burned her skin, his- No! Her mental blast brought their attacker to his knees. He took Myrla with him as he fell, grabbing her by the braid when she tried to break free.

No! And Rankil was upon him, knocking him from Myrla with one hand as she placed her blade to his throat with the other. Tisph wouldn't chase her any more. He would never catch her again, never touch her again, never- "No, Rankil dankle!" Archell grabbed her knife wielding arm with his bound hands. "He isn't worth the hurt."

Rankil pulled from his grasp, raised the blade to strike, then stopped, bewildered and quivering on top of the Autlach. How had she gotten here? Where had this Aut come from? Sensing her confusion, the man pushed from beneath her to slide backward down the slope. Rankil let him go, staring through him as he turned and ran.

"Rankil?" Myrla touched her shoulder.

"No," she replied in a whisper then she dropped the knife, rose to her feet, and stumbled down the hillside toward the cavern. It was winter and she was cold-nothing else made sense. Where were Jewel and Kaelan? Where was Archell? Myrla?

"Myrla!" She turned back to where she last remembered Myrla being only to find both she and Archell running toward her as Hestra screamed in Archell's arms.

"Run!" Myrla caught Rankil's hand in her own, pulling her forward. "For the Mother's sake, run!"

Rankil numbly joined their race, stumbling again and again as Myrla urged her along. A rumbling rose behind them. By the time they neared the family cavern the noise had become deafening, like the roar of rushing floodwaters, interspersed with the snorts and knickers nassies always made at a full run. Rankil slowed enough to look back then turned back to her run, all but passing Myrla and Archell as the apocalyptic sound of sixty nassie hooves closed in on them.

"It's him!" she cried when they reached the family cavern. "I saw him. We can't win!"

"Yes, we can." Myrla gathered the singed remains of Kaelan's map bag then grabbed a handful of torches, lighting one from the burning scrolls.

"Come on." Myrla took Rankil and Archell by the arms and led them deeper into the cavern. "We're following Kaelan and Jewel. We're going caving."

Chapter Thirteen.

The Auts may outnumber us, but they can't outsmart us.

-Harlis Davies "Hush her up." Blood roared in Rankil's ears. "Give her another bottle or something."

"She's teething," replied Myrla between pats to the baby's back. "That, and she's wet."

"Didn't you grab any wraps?" Rankil stepped to the edge of the torch light, hoping the dark would soothe the ache in her head. Kaelan had never taken her down this tunnel, choosing instead to map many of the surface caves. Rankil cursed the decision. Archell read her expression, took the map sling from her back, and draped it across his own.

"No use looking for what's not there, Rankil dankle. We'll push through. There's nothing else that we can do."

"But they're better supplied than we are," said Rankil. "We had the advantage of knowing where we were, until now." She turned to Myrla. "Shut her up!"

"I'm trying!" Myrla pointed to their surroundings. "She's as frightened as we are."

"Try harder," replied Rankil, clenching her hands to her head. "She'll lead them to us."

"What do you suggest I do?"

"You're a gentlewoman. Don't you know?"

Myrla stopped whispering to Hestra to glare. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Stop it!" Archell stepped between them. "Hestra needs changed. Rankil, take off your skirt."

"Pardon?"

"Your overskirts can be wraps so Hestra can nap."

"Oh." She tore the cloth free and handed a square to Myrla. "Give me the dirty wrap, and I'll hide it under a rock."

Myrla changed the child, and soon Hestra cooed thanks. "That's a baby." She slid her into the carry sling and passed the soiled bundle to Rankil. "All set. Which way are we going?"

"Pick a tunnel." Rankil waved at the passages as voices drifted their direction.

"Straight down the middle then." Myrla marched forward, head held high in defiance of the unknown. Archell remained by her side while Rankil stayed behind to hold off some of the trackers. Gun in hand, she shot at the first two men into the convergence then rushed down the darkened tunnel her companions had entered.

"Douse the light, Archie. They're getting close."

"No, Rankil roo." Archell grabbed her arm until she took up pace with his heated gait. "Myrla has a better idea."

"But we don't have time for-"

"Take her!" Myrla shoved the baby into Rankil's arms. She took the torch from Archell, lit the last one in Rankil's sling, and pushed the new flame back at him. "Smell the grease?" She told Rankil. "It's the same stuff we use in our lanterns."

"The stuff Jewel smeared on our heads?" Rankil smelled the unmistakable odor of petroleum.

"It sometimes bubbles up in the deeper caves." Myrla pushed the others back and held her torch high over her head. "When I drop the torch, run."