In Stone's Clasp by Christie Golden Page A

hidden places. We will not be able to learn much from the air, Dragon, and if this forest is any indication, you are too large to walk between the trees.”
    He narrowed his golden eyes. “Let us fly, and see what we can see, and feel what we can feel, before you give up.”
    Her eyes flashed. “I’m not giving up!”
    “Good. Because for a moment there, it certainly sounded as if you had.”
    “You know me better than that.”
    His scrutinizing gaze softened. “Indeed I do,” he said. “Come. Climb aboard my back, and let us find the people who dwell in such a harsh place.”
    She was relieved to leave the ground, to be safely in the air once again, away from the wet snow and the dim forest and the eerie silence. Seated atop the Dragon, Kevla wrung out the sodden rhia and with a thought, dried it. They continued on, no longer flying directly north this time. The Dragon flew in a search pattern, lower to the ground, so that they had every opportunity of finding places where people might dwell. Kevla tried to extend her thoughts, to sense the Stone Dancer as the Dragon had told her she could, but all she could feel was an oncoming headache from concentrating so hard.
    She abandoned the attempt and concentrated on scouring the landscape that unfurled beneath her. She realized that she didn’t even know what they were looking for.
    “What kind of dwellings should we be watching for?”
    “What is the greatest resource here?” replied the Dragon, answering one question with another.
    “Snow,” she joked, then added more seriously, “trees. They probably build their shelter out of trees.” Now that she thought about it, she supposed that wood would make an adequate building material, though no one in Arukan had ever done so. No one was rich enough to do so. Not even the Clan of Four Waters could afford to throw away gold on wooden housing when stone was more plentiful and easy to quarry.
    “And if they make their homes out of trees,” she continued, working it out in her mind, “we should look for clearings where it appears that trees have been harvested.”
    The Dragon lowered his right wing and swerved. “I think I saw such a clearing a few leagues to the east.”
    They were flying over open land now, away from the forests and rivers. Within a few moments, Kevla saw small dwellings. As she had surmised, they appeared to be made of wood.
    “There,” she cried, pointing. “Over there. To your left.”
    “I see them,” the Dragon replied. “Let us hope they are in a mood to welcome visitors.”
    The houses were clustered together at the edge of the forest, but the Dragon had been right—there was a large clearing where several small lumps bulged beneath the snow. Probably the trunks of the mighty trees, felled to create the shelters, thought Kevla. She was both nervous and excited as she slid from the Dragon’s back into the snow. But as soon as she approached the first house, she felt hope die inside her.
    The houses were constructed of logs from the white, slender, straight trees Kevla had observed earlier. The timbers had been cut and arranged atop one another so that they interlocked well, and what chinks remained had been stuffed with some kind of daubing material. But now that she was closer, she could see what she hadn’t been able to see from the air—that the roofs, covered with the bark of the slender white trees and what appeared to be chunks of sod, were in great need of repair. In some areas, they had collapsed.
    No one had dwelt in these houses for a long time. Apprehension building inside her, Kevla drew nearer. The doors, heavy wooden things that bore intricate carvings, had either been left open or had come off completely. Some still had metal locks attached to them. Over time, the snow had intruded inside, an unwelcome guest, to almost completely fill the space.
    Kevla stepped inside and looked around. The snow had drifted deep and high, covering everything. The only light came from