"No offense, Qilly, but I hate your homeland," griped Imnanna. She huddled closer to the fireplace, as it had grown colder overnight, something Imnanna thought was impossible.

Qilly smiled as she did so often. Imnanna never knew how to take it, as the mage's eyelids were always lowered, making it impossible to truly read her expressions. How Qilly even saw was a mystery to Imnanna.

"I admit the weather is unpleasant here," admitted Qilly. "I moved south as soon I could, you know. But our mission is urgent, and there are compensations."

An pulled aside the leather hanging that served as an entrance to the yurt as she entered. The dwarf stomped snow off her boots. "Must have switched from sleet sometime after we fell asleep. Clouds have cleared, though, and the sun should be up in a minute or two."

"Can you be ready in three minutes, then, Imnanna? There's something I want to show you." Qilly was pulling on her outer layer of cold weather gear and getting into her sealskin boots.

"Uh, sure, Qilly." Imnanna wondered what her friend was up to. They weren't going to be summoned to the chief's hut for hours.

Imnanna quickly got as ready as she could for the outdoors, then followed Qilly out of the yurt.

She had to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment. The sun had just risen; why was there so much light?

Then Imnanna opened her eyes again and looked around. What in the evening had been a drab collection of brown and gray domes in a sea of mud surrounded by dead trees was now a glittering landscape of white.

And not just white, but glints of all the colors of light, refracted from icicles and the snow's icy crust. "It's beautiful," she gasped. "Everything sparkles."

Qilly laughed. "This is the face of my motherland when she puts on her makeup!"