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will literally break loose, and I'll have no chance. Once we're inside, we're
no longer a company. You three go your way, I'll go mine. If I can help, I
will, but that's as far as it goes."
There was no reasoning with him on that, and Joe was frozen stiff. Taking
advantage of the clouds of steam and fog and the cover that the time just
before dawn still gave, they moved toward the massive black region.
The moment they stepped onto it, they knew they were in a different realm.
Surrounded by ice, the island, perhaps a half mile around, felt as warm and
tropical as back home in a Marquewood summer. For the first time, Joe and
Macore both felt the effects of painful frostbite on their faces. They forced
themselves to ignore it as much as possible, and Joe, at least, knew that
healing would be rapid, thanks to his were curse. He still had a bloody area
in his coat and under it where the crossbow bolt had struck, but already there
was no sign of a puncture at the skin.
"We're gonna have to stash these furs," Macore noted. "I'm starting toward
'well done' already, and they slow me down. I'd say we pick a spot in these
rocks and try to conceal them. We may need them again, if we have to take the
backdoor out of here."
Everyone was surprised to discover that, under it all, Macore wore his
gun-metal gray thiefs outfit. It was patched and well worn, but it looked like
the old
Macore once more.
"I stole it back, too," he explained. "I wouldn't feel exactly me without it,
and it's a bit of a walk to the nearest tailor's."
"I wish I'd thought of that," Joe admitted. "It looks like I'm going to make
my play wearing just a sword and swordbelt. I don't even think the boots are a
good idea. For one thing, they're getting very soggy now that they're warm
and, for another, they'll make noise and give little traction up here. Still,
I'm gonna be pretty damned embarrassed if I get into a fight." He looked at
Mia and grinned. "Now we are a pair, aren't we?"
Clothing secured, they began moving up the slope, quietly, low to the ground.
Marge signaled a halt, then flexed and un-flexed her wings. "Stay here a
couple of minutes," she whispered. "Let me check out what's" around."
"Be careful!" Joe warned. "They see or detect you and it's all over."
She nodded, then rose into the air, circled around, and was gone into the
mist.
She was gone only a minute or two, then came back beside them. "Feels like a
Turkish bath on the top there. From the humidity, I can guess the heat. Up top
are formal gardens of some kind all organized around thermal pools. It's very
pretty, really. There's some statues of various Hypbor-eyan gods in the
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gardens and I'd watch out for 'em. They all felt magically 'hot,' as it were.
The gardens lead to the palace itself, first to a kind of porch with some
fancy pools that seem built like Jacuzzis. Beyond those are arches that take
you right inside the place."
"Any guards?" Joe asked.
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"Two bored-looking Bentar. Not like soldiers just sort of wandering around
like night watchmen. Careful, though. They have swords on, and, remember, only
iron can hurt them. I'd steer clear if I could, though. The sounds of a
swordfight this early will bring lots of folks running, and the Bentar can
screech like mad if they're hurt."
Mia had her knife in her hand, but as they moved over the top and onto the
gardens, she held it for a while in her teeth. The blade was an iron alloy; it
would harm Bentar, but not easily.
The gardens truly were beautiful, a tropical Eden surrounded by the ice just
beyond. Exotic trees and bushes were planted all over in a masterwork of royal
gardening that obviously supplied the palace and also was in its own way a
work of art.
If the gardens were Eden, then the statues placed here and there through them
were Hell. Ugly, monstrous gods, on pedestals, each with its own small altar.
Demonic figures, some reptilian, some ghastly distortions of the familiar,
some with bat wings, and a few just indescribably loathsome. A statue for each
main tribal god of any of the Hypboreyans, obviously, all gathered here for
equal homage before the ruling family in a grotesque symbol of national unity.
Joe stared at one particularly vicious-looking doglike thing and thought, Now
at least I know where the Hypboreyans get their sunny dispositions.
Still, Hypboreya was supposed to be a harsh land, requiring a particularly
tough and ruthless breed to tame and keep tamed. Such people bred their own
gods in their own images. They all felt what Marge had felt looking at the
things. It was as if those grotesque miniatures were somehow alive, aware of
them, and looking at them with malice. They gave them a wide berth.
There was the sudden sound of someone walking toward them from the direction
of the palace, and they were immediately behind the hedges and in the bushes
on both sides. Pretty soon a Bentar appeared, looking, as predicted, bored and
sleepy. He was wearing a spiffier uniform than the regular troops, possibly a
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