Winter 2007 11

Weft started shifting as soon as his charge made a break for the exit.

Suitov paused and told him "I will not go out of viewing range, I will not get inconveniently killed. Feel free to stay where you are."

"See if I care," Weft said.

So the mage slipped off with, it has to be said, some relief. Cold air at last.

Daaren noted that, but did not comment. Someone watching him closely would notice he relaxed slightly, too. Letting Suitov set the pace, he surveyed the surroundings, wondering where the pruned garden ended.

Weft glanced around with almost monotonous regularity in between observing what the girls did with the chestnuts. He had no idea what the two outside were talking about and didn't much care.

He'd really rather have run a full background check on Daaren first. That inconsiderate conjurer, dealing with unvetted individuals. It would serve him right when one turned out to be a vampire or a monster or something. Wouldn't act so invincible then, would you?

A thought did occur to him, and Weft liked it so much that he shifted to lean back against the windowsill. Now his attention was split three ways. He smirked, a decidedly unpleasant expression.

And when chestnuts had been consumed, he sat forward again, taking on a more active, dangerous look than he had previously.

"Hey, Nico," he thrummed. He twisted and reached out of the window-hole. There was a soft powdery scooping sound and Weft turned back, still patting the snowball down.

Raising his eyebrows with a small grin, he silently pointed a finger at the two outside. Dare me? he seemed to say.

She smirked and after a thoughtful hum said in a low voice, "Might be fun to try..." The problem might be getting close enough without getting noticed. Anyway, Nico wondered if Helmine was interested, and gave her a questioning look. Leaving one alone and, presumably, bored, seemed impolite.

Helmine looked between the two quickly. "I will be fine. I have words to memorise," she said assuringly. "I never was one to play."

Nico hesitated a moment. "All right, if you say so."

She got up and told Weft, "Mind, getting close enough might be tricky. Daaren has pretty good hearing."

"Oh, good. Let's see if my silenting is better than his hearing."

Weft suspected he'd got something wrong there. Oh well.

"Shall I go this way and you follow that hedge?"

If Suitov and Daaren continued as they seemed to be going - around the mostly open space in that direction from the pavillion - that would bring her in front of them.

"Right. If nothing unforseen happens, I'll wait near the gap there and for you to hit first."


Outside, Daaren asked Suitov, "Do you know who keeps this place?"

That's right, you fools, keep strolling...

"No, we don't," Suitov explained. "It isn't like the other plots of land hereabouts. Those all grow wild until somebody visibly intervenes."

A creeping danger tested the ground behind a low wall with one hand before proceeding.

"Some claim there are gods here. Personally, I rather suspect..." Suitov slowed down talking a fraction of a second before a loosely-packed snowball got him dead centre in the back of the neck.

With a bloodthirsty rumble in the back of his throat, Weft flattened himself behind a stone unicorn and waited for Nico to follow up on the strike. Grace, he'd feel slightly awkward if she didn't.

Nico, who'd on the way turned her coat inside-out for what little good it would to for camouflage, saw Daaren turn around, then the snowball connect, and left her cover for a throw. Unfortunately her target moved to the side, thinking to put a shrub trimmed into the shape of a duck between the general direction of the first snowball and himself, so Nico's missed.

It came close to hitting the mage, who was left in plain view. He crouched and gathered some snow of his own with a grin. Now where had that first ball come from...

Daaren closed the top button of his jacket while having a quick look at the pavillion. However, from this angle it was impossible tell if somone was sitting inside.
Since they were under attack from two sides, anyway, he stepped back next to Suitov, and pointed out the unicorn statue. There had been some quick movement there.

Nico moved to a different, nearby gap in the hedge.

Suitov's first shot went wide. The next skimmed the back of the beast, sending the collected snow on top spray-slithering down.

"Too slow," sang an ornamental dolomphalos tree, pelting him in the left shoulder.

Oh well. Would have worked. "Right," Suitov said under his breath, seeming amused.

At the same time, a snowball Nico had lobbed over the leafless duck bush in a neat ballistic curve hit Daaren from above. He snorted, but there was a hint of a chuckle in there.

Only then did he rush to find Nico.

Suitov took cover at last behind a quince, which seemed somehow appropriate.

The snow purred beneath his hand. He had no intention of cheating, though. Well, not unless asked nicely.

Two of their shots chanced to collide in midair.

"You'll pay for this pernicious perfidy," Ice suggested, lobbing and hitting mostly knothole.

"Little less patter, more splatter!" Weft taunted, breaking cover, rolling and firing low.

Just behind another statue of some kind of larger humanoid she didn't recognise, Helmine puffed a cloud of smoke and watched the happenings seemingly boredly. She hadn't, however, stuck around near the fire. She'd left the breastplate and the bandanna behind. Presently she was dressed in whites and shades of greys, which was just as well.

She gave the snowball one last squeeze, just to be sure it was hard enough. Then she pulled her arm back, watched the other grey-haired asshole of the gathering move and aimed. Nice, erratic movement. She was used that sort of thing. Agile bastard, though.

Helmine threw the snow and headed for new cover. She had plotted a path that would give her some shelter at least. If Weft wasn't too quick and nobody else noticed the snowball she had thrown, well, she was going to have some fun...

It looked for a moment as though Helmine's snowball would overshoot. However, Weft's seasonally inappropriate footwear somehow lost traction on a patch of black ice, depositing him a good few inches out of position, and then PAF.

He had been about to taunt Ice again. It emerged as a startled squeak. Just then, Suitov's next attack glanced off a twig and powdered the monk's sleeve.

Weft was forced to recalculate quickly.

There'd be no chance of anyone being unable to follow tracks in this snow, and Daaren was faster than Nico, which both of them knew. Thus, there being an attack didn't surprise him.

Nico threw a stick into the crown of a tree just as Daaren was passing under it. He dove forward and rolled, which got a decent amount of snow on him, anyway, but it was a matter of (mostly) reflexes and (somewhat) principles.

Since she'd decided to run a bit too late, and had a bit of trouble in the loose, deep snow, moments later Nico dove right into a snow drift after Daaren tripped her up. Faced with the thread of him shoving a handful of snow down the back of her collar, she preferred to surrender.

Suitov reversed partway around his quince, sculpting more snow, and found himself... inexplicably back-to-back with Weft. The monk was exuding wisps of steam and packing snow into missile shape.

Suitov showed no outward surprise. "Which one of us just switched sides?" he asked in a comic whisper.

"Both," replied Weft, scanning the surroundings for Helmine. "We're awaiting the first opportunity to stick in the knife, I reckon."

"What beastly rotters."

That might have been a stifled chortle from the killer at his back.