"Right," Imoen said, sitting low on the table in the gnomish bar, "what you've all forgotten is ... "

"Pants!" her sister Roe contributed.

"No, you're wearing them. Thank goodness," Imoen said.

"Pants, now, did you know they were a gnomish invention originally?" Jan Jansen asked. "In the history of the greatest gnomish inventions, pants probably rank third or fourth, after the turnip peeler, the underground entrance to the root vegetable cellar, and stilts. Once upon a time, in a little gnomish village everyone wore tubes of flax sewn around their bodies for the purposes of keeping them warm. But in this particular village, they had a were-leopard problem. He was a rogue halfling who used change into a leopard at full moons, quite the fearsome monster, then go and prey on anyone in the vicinity. Families left milk outside their doors so he would drink the milk instead of eating their children, but unfortunately he was lactose intolerant and the stench became too much to bear. Then the village leader came up with the idea of inviting the halfling were-leopard to a grand fashion display. They showed turnip hats, onion berets, leek-themed top hats, potato bonnets, carrot cloches, and more root-vegetable-themed headgear, but this was not the key part that caught the were-leopard's attention. They went more innovative, showing cloaks stitched with beet patterns, but then the local druid came up with the idea of stitching the flax tubes together to cover all the lower extremities at once. The pants trend caught on and the were-leopard loved it so much he promised to live in peace with the village ever after.

"But, as you'd expect, he felt the call to turn into a were-leopard again at the very next full moon. He started roaring and howling and growing hair in unusual places. Then the druid's strategy came into play. The halfling's pants were now so tight around the leopard that they didn't allow him to move around, and so the village put him in a cage and exhibited him for five copper pieces a look.

"After all, you can't expect a leopard to change its pants."

Jan nodded and smiled at his company. Everyone ignored him with the ease of long practice.

"Gods, please keep our fearless leader inside her trousers," Viconia DeVir said. "Despite enduring beholders, abyssal demons, skinned men, cannibal trolls, and turnip-obsessed madmen, some sights ought to remain permanently unseen."

"Oy!" Roe complained, looking quite hurt. She was an unassuming looking human of twenty odd, lithe and rangy with scruffy braided hair, and at the moment very tipsy from turnip ale. The daughter of a god, she'd defeated her evil brother, rescued her sister Imoen from a soulless wizard, and saved an entire elven city from destruction; she and her allies were enjoying some well earned time off.

"It's true my sister has a long history of forgetting her pants," Imoen said. "There's a signed picture of her relaxing on the bearskin rug without a stitch on, her typical attire in childhood, and there was that assassin in Nashkel who set fire to our inn and she escaped without pants, and there was that time she got arrested by the Flaming Fist for public indecency and also murder, and the celebration after Bodhi's defeat when we all ... Well, let's talk about what's really important."

"The little pair of hamster pantaloons that my witch Aerie sewed for Boo to protect his sensitive behind from the cold nights?" Minsc asked.

"That's pretty adorable, but I'm talking about something much more important," Imoen reminded them all. "Come on ... on the tip of your tongues ... it'll come to you ... "

Aerie held Imoen's hand under the table, but her face held a worried look. Roe stared at her ale, then raised her head and made frantic signals with her eyebrows. Aerie looked blank, then understanding dawned on her.

"It's your name day, Imoen!" Aerie smiled and flushed pink as she got a kiss on the cheek for a reward.

"See? My girl here knows it, and yet we only started our fling a month ago!"

"Eight-and-twenty days. You gave me those l-lovely pink rhodelias, and I ... I like you too, Imoen ... " Aerie said.

"And Minsc and Boo have two witches to protect now!" Minsc boomed, sweeping his arms about the pair.

"Whereas most of the rest of you have either known me since childhood, or travelled with me since we left Candlekeep, so there's no possible excuse ... " Imoen continued.

Viconia groaned and lowered her head in her arms. "I remember. You forced us all to wear those degrading flower crowns and sing happy songs for you. Then you ate a sugar cake the size of your head and got indigestion."

"Yep, Viccy, that's right. It's my name day again tomorrow, or at least the day that Winthrop and me decided ought to be right. The day of everything-Imoen-wants!" Imoen said.

Roe looked blearily at the gnome bartender, and ordered another three rounds.

"Nameday presents? P-perhaps I could improvise ... "Aerie whispered something into Imoen's ear and promptly turned scarlet. Imoen laughed and hugged her back.

"Right, some notes," Imoen said late the next day, replete with no less than five sugar cakes. "The pink bunting was fine but I wanted more papier-mache sculptures of me; Jan, your turnip bouillabaisse was ... interesting; Roe, write down 'pink magical talking pony' as a gift suggestion for next year; Viconia, the poison needle kit is useful but not very festive; Minsc, the piggyback ride was great; and Aerie ... " Imoen looked sappily adoring at her partner. "I'd like to register an official commendation with the Best Girlfriend Trophies. The whipped cream was inspired."

"You have a sweet tooth." Aerie smiled knowingly and wiped a white droplet from her neckline.

"In Rashemen piggyback rides to the snowy river are the tradition for Minsc's nameday!" Minsc said. "We barbarians lift each other on our backs, run through the snow to the icy water, make holes in the ice, and dive in! Suddenly the cold turns to warmth and the feeling is grand! Then we quickly get out and dry ourselves for the yearly snowball battle! Minsc was victorious the last year we were there, and noble Dynaheir gave a soapstone trophy she carved herself. How we missed those times in far off Rashemen. The snow in this land is never good snow, it is always patchy and brown. But Rashemen is so beautiful you would love it the moment you saw mountains and hills shining with white all over. We would sled down from the high tip of the mountain to the bottom of the valley, the wind singing in our ears and the sun so dazzling on the snow that it is like sledding through light."

Aerie walked to him and fitted herself around his arm. "You miss it, my guardian."

"But Minsc does not mean to be sad, and make our good friends sad as well."

"Well, we can't have a sad Minsc." Imoen flanked Minsc's other side. "Let's not be such an insensitive pack of nutbunnies! By the time of year, it's Minsc's nameday just as much as it's mine, and we're going to party on."

At night in the gnome village, not even a mouse stirred. Or so it looked. The tiny, neat houses of Understone were quiet. Gentle plumes of smoke puffed from comfortable chimneys. Roe the Bhaalspawn slept awkwardly on a gnome-sized bed, legs and arms thrust messily out of the blankets as usual. Viconia briefly stopped to tidy up the bedding before arranging herself neatly on her mattress on the floor, tying a mask over her eyes for better rest. Jan Jansen snored rhythmically, clutching a comfort turnip to his chest. Minsc and Boo added to the chorus, dozing with barbarian's fierce snores and hamster's regular whirrs respectively.

But there were two who hadn't gone to bed. They sat up drinking coffee out of tiny cups in the village mayor's cottage, planning out their actions in detail and getting the permission they needed. They left with smiles and started to get ready.

The next day in the gnome village of Understone, something happened that had never happened before. This time of year was usually slushy and brown. But after two almost-totally-an-archmage spellcasters worked, today it glowed. Familiar paths and landmarks were transformed into wonderlands gleaming white under a bright sun. Crystal icicles glittered like jewels in windows and eaves. The snow was thick and heavy, and yet it was a bright day with warmth that clung to the air; Aerie and Imoen had together managed some rather clever temperature-control to keep people warm while playing with magic-modified snow.

"HAPPY NAMEDAY, MINSC!" Imoen shouted to wake him up. And in the blink of an eye, Misc and his witches were sledding down the village's biggest hill, laughing like it would never end. The gnomish children were the first to join, starting by poking experimentally at the snow outside their doorsteps, picking up small handfuls, then running down the hill to join the games.

'Merrie Winter Celebretory Hot Beveridge Stall Support Understone', read a very large sign by the town hall. The mayor, who was also a coffee and tea merchant, dispatched steaming cups to all passers-by willing to pay a reasonable fee. When the sun was high in the sky, Roe stumbled out of bed nursing her hangover, planted herself in the booth, and ordered copious coffee for herself and Viconia. Jan took up a stall of his own next to the mayor's and marketed a snow-friendly miniature adaptation of his Flasher Master Bruiser Missile Machine, which contributed to a civil war among the children.

Imoen grabbed Aerie from behind and thrust a hand filled with snow down her robe. "It's on!" she cheered.

Aerie pivoted, practicing a self-defence move from Roe, and neatly flipped Imoen back on her shapely buttocks. "Those who ambush me get what they deserve!" she said triumphantly.

"The witches are clever and talented, but Minsc will win the day!" The mighty berserker heaved a sheet of snow at Aerie and Imoen. They skidded away on suddenly-materialised ice and took up strategic positions behind a tree.

"Four o'clock, southwest direction; seize the fortress!" Imoen whispered in Aerie's ear. Taking evasive action, they skimmed down the slope to something that revealed itself as a hidden fortress made of snow.

"Imoen? Did you make this?" Aerie whispered, seeming worried at entering a low-ceilinged structure. She hated confined spaces; as a child she had spent most of her time in a cage.

"I made wide windows and skylights; plenty of sun; you don't have to go inside if you don't want to. We can just as well levitate up to the top of it and attack from above." She squeezed Aerie's hand warmly.

"You didn't ... tell me that you were doing this as well," Aerie said.

Imoen didn't seem to notice her girlfriend's worried tone. "That's not the only surprise I made. But I won't spoil it - "

Roe tried to avoid looking at the sun's glare while she drank her coffee.

"Rivvin!" Viconia complained. "One would expect chilly weather to be linked with some decent darkness, but instead the glare of the sun is worse than ever upon this white stuff! Only a sadist surfacer god would invent such torments."

"It snowed in Candlekeep, sometimes," Roe said. "Imoen and I took bone-skates that we made from ox shins out on the pond, and we pranked Ulraunt and the other monks with snow traps in the doorways. It was fun."

"A sudden outbreak of sickening childhood memories and a non-response to the verbal information given. You're still hung over, aren't you?" Viconia said.

"No. Maybe. Yes. Watch out, we're in an ambush!" Roe ducked. Viconia was not so lucky. A small figure flung a snowball in her face - one weighted with sharp ice shards. Roe pulled up a stool to use as a makeshift shield.

"Hahaha! In the name of the Spider Queen, I triumph!" said the small figure.

"Let me help! I made a snow catapult!" said an even smaller one next to her. Viconia muttered a healing spell as she shook the snow and ice out of her eyes, and stared in astonishment at who - what - had ambushed them.

They weren't gnomes. Or people at all. They were a pair of snow golems, animated magic constructs. One was small and delicate like a drow and the other tiny and rotund like a gnome. The smaller one flipped up his catapult and whizzed his missile against Roe's ear.

"Children win! Adults drool! Just like I say to my Great-Uncle Scratchy when he comes to visit and bake turnip pie - "

"I do not know why I fight alongside a gnome, but it is clearly our duty to conquer!" said the small drow.

"I am going to strangle Imoen slowly - " burst out of Roe.

"Why? It's such a neat piece of spellwork and the little one is so incredibly handsome and dashing. Is he not?" Jan Jansen said.

The handsome and dashing little gnome snow golem giggled maniacally as a cunningly laid trap with a sheet of snow crashed down on Jan's head. Momentarily stunned, Jan emerged from the wreckage spitting snow out of his mouth. "Yes, he is, isn't he? So clever as well! Just like this old gnome when he was that age ... "

"Imoen made snow golems that are childish versions of us and set them up to start a snowball war!" Roe whined.

Meanwhile, two human-like snow children snuck sneakily up the ridge. "Biggest target?" one said to the other. Her sister solemnly offered her pinky. "Biggest target," she agreed.

They stalked the ranger Minsc, slipping in and out behind trees in movements they'd long practiced on any monks who'd inspired their wrath or minor annoyance. They separated, one to the east and the other to the west, one moving while the other stilled, one disturbing a rabbit to cover the other's step on a twig, converging upon the same goal.

Minsc turned to see a small figure on his left. He rubbed his eyes. "Little snow girl? - " he began. Foolishly, he turned on his first attacker. A split second later, the ambush started from behind him. The girls had learnt well.

Woe betide any Candlekeep denizen who saw these two as two instead of one!

In the meantime, Imoen scanned the skies above the snow fort. "Watch out, Aerie," she said. "Looks like we're under attack from above."

Aerie looked at the figure made out of snow - the one with wings, high in the sky - and paled.

"In the name of justice, Aerie the Brave will punish the enemies of goodness with snow!" the little winged snow elf called out. She rained missiles down on the adults. The real Aerie didn't duck. She was frozen in place.

Imoen pulled her into the shadow of the fortress. "C'mon, girlfriend! We can beat them!"

"Them? Imoen, what did you do?" Aerie was pale and her eyes cut like blue diamonds. "That ... that t-thing ... you made me? As I was?"

"I made all of us," Imoen said. "I thought it would be fun - embrace our inner children in a snowfight ... you know, a surprise ... "

"You did not think!" Aerie shouted. "I look at everything that I have lost, and how do you think I feel?"

The shout gave away their position. Aerial artillery bombarded them again and the fortress shook from below.

"For the honour of Rashemen!" a small, skinny snow boy cheered as he strove to bring down the walls.

In the main square, another pitched battle was taking place. Roe took point. "Regroup! Duck! Take cover!" she yelled. Viconia raised her hand and started to summon a sheet of flame. The little drow imitated her movements, and suddenly a block of ice materialised around Viconia's hand to weigh her down. They could swear the snow girl was smirking as she and the little gnome continued their barrage.

"All right, here's the plan," Roe said, shoving a plate from the coffee stall into Jan's hands, "before this escalates to involve civilians, make this thing big. Really big."

"One enlargement spell, coming up! That reminds me of my Uncle Big-Nose. He was a pioneer in the arts of enlargement and a master of mixing his spells into little blue pills that he sold on the clerical black markets. The ladies always favoured a man who'd taken some of Big-Nose's pills! Whilst the picture on the pill packets clearly depicted a gorgeous oversized gnomish nose, certain non-gnome races tended to misinterpret the nature of the spell and - "

"Jan!"

The spell finally caught. Roe spun the enlarged plate and leapt on top of it, seizing Viconia's waist and the back of Jan's cloak. They slid down the valley on their improvised sled, fleeing not without some loss of dignity in their retreat. Particularly since the sled spilt them into an undignified landing at the end.

"Thank you, Roe. You have confirmed that I still have a tailbone. Because you fractured it," Viconia said.

"I dink I droke my dose," Jan said miserably. "I dan't dalk all dright."

"Oh, what's that surfacer proverb? There is a lovely shadowed lining to every horrible sun?" Viconia grinned maliciously.

"I dorgive you because you weren't lucky edough to be draised by dnomes."

"Heal him soon's we get to a safer position, Viccy," Roe said. "Hey, I know the way Imoen thinks. That lump of ice behind the next ridge looks suspiciously like the forts we used to make in Candlekeep. Time to regroup and seek shelter."

"Brave and tiny warriors, you honour the spirit of a snow day!" Minsc congratulated his opponents. "Boo agrees that you are fine fighters who would make fine Rashemi barbarians!"

"Thanks, mister! We like you too," the smaller figure of the two said.

"Yeah! And the hamster is cute," her sibling added. "Happy name day, Minsc!" Suddenly, she frowned and looked worried. "How do I know your name is Minsc, and how do I know it's your nameday?"

"Boo says that you have started to experience an existential crisis due to your origin as artificial creations empowered with a certain amount of sapient thought and memories from your respective inspirations," Minsc said. "But Minsc just says: Thank you for the battle!"

"Exist-thingy crisis?" the smaller snow girl asked.

"Also known as a battlefield distraction! Let's herd him back to the fortress and take it for ourselves!" her sister proposed.

"Go Candlekeep!" young Imoen cheered.

It was a desperate siege battle. The grown Imoen defended the ramparts to the best of her ability, conjuring summons and streams of snow at her opponents. Aerie sat apart, trying not to look at any of it. Soon, the little avariel swooped down to her ally and picked him up. "Cannonball!" she shrieked, and young Minsc was atop the enemy's ramparts at last. A close range snowball catapulted Imoen flat on her back.

"Victory for the brave warriors of Rashemen! Thank you, my fine feathered ally! It is an honour to fight by your side!" The little snow boy brandished biceps that hadn't grown in yet.

"Heroes all, we are victorious! I love humans! When I grow up I'm going to travel and see so many different lands!" the young avariel said. She landed beside her partner in crime. "Only one more evil grown-up to defeat in this snow war! C'mon, lady, it's okay, we won't attack you from behind because that's not what noble paladins do ... "

Aerie turned. And the look of her seemed to shake the snow golem as much as her flight had shaken her living counterpart. The small avariel stepped back. "Oh. You look like ... you're like Mother. But you're not her. And you don't have wings ... what ... what happened to you? How could you lose your flight? I'm sorry ... I don't understand ... Why do you weep?"

"Please don't cry, big sad elf lady," young Minsc said. "When I grow up I will be a hero of Rashemen protecting all witches! I will help you!"

Then came the sound of more voices. "Invade and siege! Take the fortress!" Roe commanded. "Ah, Minsc, there you are - flank from behind! Grown Minsc that is, not that scrawny twig!"

"Hey! When I grow up I will be big and tall like all Rashemi barbarians!"

"Minsc hears and comes to save his witches and other friends!"

But the adult ranger's enthusiastic shoulder was the last blow that the snow fortress could survive. Imoen and Aerie tumbled from their perch in a shower of loose snow. Minsc caught Aerie in his right arm, Imoen in his left. "The witches are safe!" he cheered.

"Is it only my superior drow senses, or is the temperature rapidly dropping and a storm brewing due to the failure of irresponsible and dangerous amateur spellcasting?" Viconia asked, rubbing her bare arms. Roe, wearing a fleece vest, gave up her cloak.

"Look - I did this for fun, didn't I? And it was fun for - for plenty of time - " Imoen said.

"I understand now," the young avariel cried out. She pointed a shaking figure at her adult counterpart. "You're me, but grown up. I'm going to lose my wings and I'm never going to be anything I wanted to be and I'm going to be sad and angry and horrible about it. I don't want to grow up! I hate you! I hate you all!"

She took flight into the gathering storm. "Buffleheaded coward, we didn't need you to have fun anyway," young Imoen muttered, and stuck out her tongue.

"Then you are who I become, usstan," said the young drow to the grown Viconia. "Crawling about on the surface. When I was summoned, I was happy to massacre some surfacers in the tradition of our people, but now I see that you are one. So I spit on you."

"You were a brat at that age," Viconia admitted. "But at least you survive to grow up. Rejoice that you accomplish that when so many of our House shall not."

"I think I grow up pretty cool," the child version of Roe said. "You're uglier than I expected, but tough and a leader. I respect that."

"I grow up big and tall!" young Minsc cheered. "I am joyous about that."

"And finest of all, you have a hamster companion to look forward to! When you see any strange old men smoking pipes, do agree to view any furry rodents they agree to show you ... " Minsc advised.

"Young Jansen, I'm proud of you just the way you are. Now go forth and conquer the turnip world," Jan said.

Roe reached into the depths of her pack, where she'd made a few extra purchases from the winter stalls. "Time for a truce," she said. "Who wants coal, carrots, or Calishite Delight?"

The snow children selected to decorate themselves with coal and carrots, while the adventuring party gulped down the sugary snack. The temperature continued to fall.

"I'm a unicorn princess!" Young Imoen did three cartwheels in quick succession. Roe's avatar laughed and tried to seize the carrot from her.

Roe walked up behind her sister. "I liked playing with you when we were kids. Candlekeep was dull before you came," she said quietly.

"Yeah. That's me. Friendly, fun Imoen. The eternal cavorting child. Doesn't always help, does it?" Imoen said. "Sure, I acted like a carefree child. It helped me get a good place and regular meals with Winthrop and Mr. G. A couple months before I reached that age, I was nothing. Some urchin thief on the street. Never got enough to eat most of the time. They only kept me around 'cause I was small enough to get in tight spaces and look pathetic to beg a few coins on a good day. Now look at me play and show off."

"There's more to you than that, Imoen," Roe said. "Always has been."

The clouds above were turning black. The frosty wind was biting now. Aerie's teeth chattered as she stood up at last. "I was not trained in magic as a child, but I still possessed some ability for the Weave," she said. "And the snow golems you made are all infused with magic by nature. I think I am making the storm now. And I ... it grows worse with my despair. When I look at what I am and what I was once, I cannot bear ... "

"I'd reverse it if I could, I'd spill my blood for a successful spell, but ... Aerie, we cast this together," Imoen said. "Even though I went too far and made too much stuff. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry."

"You mean that we need to work together to reverse the storm and save the village," Aerie said. She dusted the snow off her gloves to get to work. "We will need a group levitation spell, a fresh oak leaf, and a feather."

Minsc brushed snow away from a nearby tree. "Here! But ... " Cold had shrivelled it.

"I am able to regenerate the leaf," Viconia said.

"And I will grant a feather. There are still some that grow out of my stumps. Go quickly, Imoen." Aerie pushed her cloak back and waited. She did not wince as the feather was plucked. "Roe, Viconia, Jan, Minsc - the old ones, I mean - return to Understone and ensure the villagers are under shelter. Snow children, we will need all of your help to come with Imoen and me."

Roe patted herself on the head. "Bye, kiddo. It won't be as fun as you think, but there'll be good parts enough to make it worth fighting for."

"Fare thee well, little Minsc!" The ranger shed a tear over his scrawny counterpart. "Fight bravely for Rashemen! Say hello to little Dynaheir for me, will you not?"

"Drow are never young and innocent," Viconia said. "But at this time I at least had my brother's friendship. I do not need to tell you to be clever and watchful. You will survive, young DeVir."

"A word to the wise, young Jansen: turnip flakes. Definitely the new trend." Jan winked and tapped his nose. The young gnome stepped ready beside Imoen and Aerie.

"Three, two, one - soar!" Imoen commanded the Weave to lift them up. The spellcasters and five small snow golems rose high. Toward the eye of the storm.

The cold hit Imoen and Aerie like a blade. The furs they wore seemed to offer no protection. Black clouds tore about them and they came closer and closer to despair.

"I think I love you - " Imoen said. "Sorry, not the time, and I messed up bad 'cause I wanted you to laugh - "

Aerie gestured into the air before them. Her magic cleared a path through the darkness. "At first I tried to pretend I was not upset with what you did, but that only made it worse. Then I gave way to my despair when you were caged as much as me. Imoen, I lean on your strength. It was never only your laughter that caused me to become your beloved."

"First time we met ... in a dungeon," Imoen said. "You hated being confined underground. But you helped me even though you were afraid - you healed me and washed my hair for the first time in months. Dyed it again, too."

"I worked in a circus ... vibrant dyes are part of the trade ... "

"Point is, you've got strength too - " Imoen said. "Hey, would you consider going blue when we go back? Match your eyes ... beautiful eyes you've got ... "

"I think that's the altitude talking," Aerie said; and 'Eww, icky grownup romance!' chorused the snow golems.

The wildest winds of all swept past them. None of them could think, could do anything more than cling to each other and try to make it through the field of black spears in the air.

But then they reached the calm in the eye of the storm. The winged girl wept in despair and with each beat of her wings the sky grew blacker and the storm more fierce. Her eyes were closed and she could not see them yet.

Aerie lifted the feather on her palm and blew it away in a puff of breath. "In Aerdrie Faenya's name, light the way forward." And around them, golden sunlight shone even though there was no visible sun.

The name of the avariel goddess awakened the child. She glared at them. "Have you come to take my wings? You shouldn't call on our goddess when you are flightless. It's in all the scrolls."

"Yet I am a priestess, and both my family's goddess and my uncle's god hear me," Aerie said. "Please end this."

"You hate me, because I'm not you. And I hate you, because I never, never, never, ever in ten million years want to be you." The snow girl looked up at her counterpart through icy tears. A crafty look crept into her eyes. "Did you want to destroy those who took your wings? Kill all those evil people and tear up everywhere that housed them?"

"This gnome village is not evil," Aerie said. "Please, protect it."

"Gnomes are just people who live on the ground. It's better to be an avariel," the girl said.

"Bit speciesist, innit?" young Jan said. "Now gnomes, we don't discriminate. Couple generations back, the Jansens adopted a fire giant as part of our clan and now Cousin Sulficia carries all the little ones on her back at picnics ... "

"Not the time, Jan!" Imoen said. "Kiddo - whatever the avariel say when talking to kids - you're going to be an archmage and champion priestess, you'll save people's lives and have big adventures, and then there's the magical girlfriend you're going to have. So what do you say? Turn back the storm?"

The air shook. Lightning flashed through the blackness. "No! I won't forgive you! I won't forgive any of you!"

The snow golem lifted her hand. She concentrated on the storm. An ice spear formed in her hand. She held it pointed toward Aerie's heart.

"I came from you. So if I destroy you, I'll keep your magic and my wings. I can stay an avariel. And I know that's what you want too. Because I'm you."

Aerie's magical shields pulsed strongly around her. Likely she could have withstood the attack. But instead, she dropped them entirely. Imoen smothered a gasp and concentrated on keeping up the levitation spell.

"It's all right. I understand how you feel," Aerie said. She offered herself, open to a single death blow from the ice spear. But the blow did not fall. "I used to be you, and I'm not any more, and I'm so, so sorry. You were free. And you flew. And then bad things - so many bad things happened to you. But it's not all going to be bad. Trust me." She reached for Imoen's hand and held it tight.

"And now please ... come back to me. You're part of me. I welcome you this time."

"Come, little flying witch." Young Minsc offered a smile. "We'll be friends."

"Us Candlekeep kids as well," Imoen and Roe said; their snow-selves extended right and left hands.

"Terms of alliance," young Viconia offered.

"Free turnips on Tuesdays," the little Jan Jansen said.

A bubble of laughter escaped the snow avariel through her glittering tears. "All right. But only for the free turnips."

She dropped the spear; she reached forward and laid a hand on Aerie's arm. Instead of just being snow on top of her sleeve, she melted through it. Aerie seemed to crackle with power and stood straighter. The oak leaf suddenly appeared on the back of her hand.

"Now, by Baervan Wildwander, Masked Leaf, protector of gnomes - restore Understone and let the weave of this spell be unravelled!"

And suddenly she and Imoen were in the midst of their mages' working once more. They reached for the tangled threads of the Weave in harmony. They calmed the storm, they saved what needed to be saved and returned what needed to be returned, and rethatched an Understone roof or three and sowed two onion fields while they were at it. They were left with a vague memory of smiling at six children, who waved back and then were gone like melted snow. Then they found themselves lying on muddy ground, by a pigpen on the edge of town.

"Next year ... I think we come up with different party plans," Imoen said.

Aerie took out a handkerchief and wiped some of the dirt from Imoen's cheek, then kissed her. "But all the same, it will be an adventure if you are there."

"The adventure I'm looking for now is beating Roe and Viconia to a bath," Imoen said. "Come to think of it ... "

But Aerie had already slipped to her feet. "Race you!" she called back. Laughing and stumbling through the mud, they dashed to their friends.