"What d'you mean, no? Snowcat pelts are nearly priceless, it's so rare to take one—you noticed how careful I was not to damage it when I killed—"

Paks erupted in fury. "By the gods, Macenion, I wonder if you ever tell the truth! You dare pride yourself on killing a helpless animal? It might as well have been a sheep trussed up, for all the courage and skill it took—"

"I didn't notice you out there—"

"You told me to stay here—"

"I told you to hold it still. You could have helped me, if you were able to hold more than one thought in mind at a time. As it was you nearly killed me—"

"I!" Paks flourished her own sword. She noticed with some satisfaction that Macenion backed up a step. "I but tried to save your honor and mine—not that I would have thought an elf would care so little for it—"

"You know nothing about elven honor, human!" Macenion seemed to swell with rage. "You are my travel companion, oath-bound to defend me—as I defended you just now—against all dangers. As for the snowcat having no defense, it was trying to spell you the entire time."

Paks felt her anger leak away into the cold. Had she been half-spelled? Had she nearly failed her oath because of it? Macenion took quick advantage of her hesitation. "I don't blame you," he said more quietly. "You are human, unused to magicks of any kind, and this may be the first magical beast you've seen." She nodded unwillingly. "It would have killed all of us, and feasted many days while our souls were enslaved to it, if we had not managed to kill it. Or send it away." He cocked his head and gave her a sly grin. "If you'd been able to think of it, o lover of animals, you might simply have sent it away."

"Sent it—it would have gone?"

"Oh, yes. I'm surprised it didn't occur to you, Paksenarrion. Just as you sent Windfoot—oh, that's right. You didn't. But you could have."

"Then you didn't have to kill it," Paks cried, angry again. "You told me—"

"I told you what seemed best to me. Kill it and it's gone forever. Send it away and it might come back—though you could have laid a compulsion on it to avoid us. Besides, this way we have a valuable pelt." Macenion turned again to his pack, and pulled out a short, wide skinning blade. Paks moved between him and the snowcat; when he rose and saw her, he frowned.

"I won't let you," said Paks, fighting back tears. "You told me I had to hold it, or it'd kill both of us—and you lied about that. It isn't the first lie, either. You're not going to profit by it, Macenion—I was wrong to hold it that way, and that's the worst thing I've done. I won't let you do more."