'That's the chief reason Alwir sent him on the mission to Alketch,' Ingold continued, setting aside his herbs and rising. 'Of anyone, a Raider would have the best chances of surviving the journey.' He picked up his staff, preparing to make his usual brief inspection of their campsite before settling down to guard duty.

'Yeah, but if he's the enemy, how did he get to be a Guard?' Rudy protested uneasily, and Ingold paused in the act of turning away, a shapeless dark blur against the paler sand of the bank beyond.

'What is an enemy?* His scratchy voice seemed to come disembodied from the surrounding darkness. 'A great variety of strange people find their way into the Guards. I'm sure if the Icefalcon wanted you to know, he would tell you.' And though Rudy could not see him move, the wizard seemed to fade from sight.

Rudy shook his head in a kind of amazement. Ingold could be the least visible man he had ever met, seen when he wanted to be seen and otherwise all but invisible. It wasn't that he was shy, Rudy knew. The wizard observed the world like a hunter from an unseen blind; concealment appeared to be his second nature. Rudy wondered if all wizards were like that.

He huddled, shivering, next to the tiny fire. The cold of the night was so intense that he could feel only a little of the fire's warmth, even at a distance of twelve inches. Already in the treeless plains, wood was scarce, and they were burning brushwood and buffalo chips. Unlike the more volatile wood fires, the chips gave off a steady, cherry-red glow, and the heart of the fire was like a rippling amber well of heat. In that well, images took shape under his idle attention - the jewelled darkness of Aide's rooms at the Keep, with the single sphere of gold floating around the flame of the candle as pure and beautiful as a fruit of light or a single note of music, and Minalde's face, bent over a book, the sudden gleam of a tear on her cheek.