Free 3 When Darkness Falls.8 by 3 When Darkness Falls.8

even Shalkan did — but nobody liked to be crusted in ice and buried in snow if there was any way to avoid it. And Jermayan and Valdien certainly did not.
    But when Kellen reached the ice-pavilion, it was deserted. Nor was Valdien awaiting his master's return in the stabling Jermayan had built to shelter the Elven destrier from the storm. That implied to Kellen that wherever Jermayan was, he did not expect to return soon.
    He glanced up at the sky, squinting against the ice-laden wind. Not the best weather for flying, and the clouds were low; he doubted that the two of them were on patrol. To see the ground, Ancaladar would have to fly beneath the cloud-cover, so low that he'd be constantly at the mercy of the strong winds of the lower air.
    Perhaps Idalia would know where they were.
    Kellen turned Firareth's head back toward the camp.

    * * * * *

    "HE has gone to Lerkalpoldara to begin the evacuation that Andoreniel ordered," Idalia said when Kellen finally tracked her down. "They left last night, when the winds dropped. I do not know when he will return — sennights, perhaps, as Ancaladar cannot carry very many passengers at a time, but no other way is actually safe."
    Kellen took a deep breath. He hadn't realized until just this moment how much he'd wanted to talk things over with Jermayan and get his opinion of how matters stood.
    "You look like you've just lost your last friend," Idalia said. "Anything I can do to help?"
    Kellen shrugged. "I'd wanted Jermayan's advice. We can't move all the Allied women and children to the Crowned Horns, and if they can't all go, moving any of them there is going to open a pretty ugly can of worms, as the Mountainborn say. But we can't just leave them without protection, especially when we have some. So I was going to ask Jermayan what he thought."
    Idalia considered for a moment. "Well, you're right," she said after a pause. "And they can't move in winter anyway, but that isn't the point, really. They need to know we're trying to help. That will give them — everyone, really — the courage to hold out until spring, when they can move."
    "Idalia, when is spring?" Kellen asked. He knew how long a year was, of course, but seasonal changes were still largely a mystery to him.
    Idalia laughed, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "I sometimes forget what a sheltered life you've led! The Longest Night is less than a moonturn away — that's the midpoint of winter, though really, there are more cold days after it than before it. But four moonturns after that — at least in Sentarshadeen — the trees will be setting new leaves and it will be the middle of spring plowing season in the Wild Lands." Her expression turned dark. "At least, it will be if the weather runs the way it has in previous years."
    And assuming any of us is there to plow. Kellen didn't say that aloud. Four moonturns — almost five? If the war went on that long, he hated to imagine what they'd be doing then.
    Would it take that long for Anigrel to persuade Armethalieh to open its gates to the Demons?
    And if, against all odds, they could convince the City to come in on the Allied side…
    Then the war might be considerably longer than a few moonturns. According to what he'd learned at the House of Sword and Shield, the Great War had lasted most of a century, from the first Endarkened attacks to what everyone had thought was their ultimate defeat.
    "Well, that's not so long to wait," Kellen said, trying to put a good face on things. "I'm sure the Mountainborn and the Wildlanders can hold out where they are against whatever They intend to do that long if we can convince them we have a plan to help them as soon as the weather turns." All I need to do is come up with one.
    "If anybody can think of something the Elves are likely to miss, it's you, brother mine," Idalia said reassuringly. "Now scat — unless you want to help me roll bandages, count out medicines, or deal with the test of the decidedly non-magical scutwork that