Someone—Digby—shouted orders. A figure hastened to the barracks.
Another struggled from the house—the clerk? A handful of servants followed apathetically behind.
Orville ran, sometimes on top of hard snow, other times poking through to soft crystals beneath. His progress was nightmarishly slow, but his pursuers were no faster.
He reached the far corner of the house. Beyond this, the cliff plunged to the Nepal road in the canyon below. The way past the house to the outpost’s approach was narrow and blocked by another foreigner.
Piss. The others were rounding the house behind him.
Orville cast a glance up the hill. The magiel was struggling but had already covered a fair piece of ground.
Nothing for it. He ran uphill.
A shot rang out. Piss!
Panting, his heart in his ears, Orville str
