The Lady and Taken had been ready for him.

"Why didn't somebody warn me?" I whined.

"He could have read you. I'm just sorry we didn't cripple him."

Two Taken, probably of the male vice, lifted Bomanz. He was stiff as a statue, yet there was that about him which even I could sense. A spark, or something. No one could have mistaken him for dead.

Into a carpet he went.

The anger in the mound had been a trickle, barely sensed, like the buzzing of a fly across a room. It smacked us now, one hard hammer stroke reeking madness. Not an iota of fear informed it. That thing had an absolute confidence in its ultimate victory. We were but delays and irritants.

The carpet carrying Bomanz departed. Then another. I settled into my place and willed the Lady to hurry me away.

A spate of snarling and yelling broke out toward town. Brilliant light slashed through the snowfall. "I knew it," I growled, one fear realized. Toadkiller Dog had found One-Eye and Goblin.

Another carpet lifted. The Lady boarded ours, closed the dome. "Fools," she said. "What were they doing?"

I said nothing.

She did not see. Her attention was on the carpet, which was not behaving as it should. Something seemed to pull it toward the Great Barrow. But I saw. Tracker's ugly face passed at eye level. He carried the son of the tree.

Then Toadkiller Dog reappeared, stalking Tracker. Half the monster's face was gone. He ran on three legs. But he was plenty enough to take Tracker apart.

The Lady saw Toadkiller Dog. She spun the carpet. Systematically she loosed its eight thirty foot shafts. She did not miss. And yet…

Dragging the missiles, engulfed in flame, Toadkiller Dog crawled into the Great Tragic River. He went under and did not come up.

"That'll keep him out of the way for a while."

Not ten yards away, oblivious, Tracker was clearing the peak of the Great Barrow so he could plant his sapling. "Idiots," the Lady murmured. "I'm surrounded by idiots. Even the Tree is a dolt."

She would not explain. Neither did she interfere.

I sought traces of One-Eye and Goblin as we flew homeward. I saw nothing. They were not in the compound. Of course. There had not yet been time for them to snowshoe back. But when they had not appeared an hour later, I began having trouble concentrating on the reanimation of Bomanz.

That started with repeated hot baths, both to warm his flesh and to cleanse him. I did not get to see the preliminaries. The Lady kept me with her. She did not look in till the Taken were ready for the final quickening. And that was unimpressive. The Lady made a few gestures around Bomanz-who looked pretty moth-eaten-and said a few words in a language I did not understand.

Why do sorcerers always use languages nobody understands? Even Goblin and One-Eye do it. Each has confided that he cannot follow the tongue the other uses. Maybe they make it up?