Frostfell

Their prey was being driven right where they wanted them, and they would be here at any moment. The packs sent out to harry their quarry's scouts had a

Amira had lost sight of Gyaidun some time ago. He'd taken a position only a few dozen paces downslope from her, but in the darkness and driving snow, she was nearly blind. She'd never seen such weather, not even in the deepest winter at High Horn, and it was still autumn here. The snow was already knee deep in places, and the wind blew the flakes so hard that they struck any exposed flesh like tiny stones. She pulled her left glove off with her teeth, just long enough to rummage in her pouch for another kanishta root and put the root in her mouth. Bitter as they were, she was developing a taste for them, and they worked wonders in keeping her warm. The temperature dropped so swiftly that Amira saw her breath go from steam to snow before being pulled away by the wind. Her next intake of breath hurt. In that moment of pain coursing down her throat, she knew that the cold bit deeper than the physical. Knew beyond doubt. The devil-possessed sorcerer had come, and somewhere in the near darkness, Jalan waited for her. She stood and gripped her new staff so tightly she felt the tendons in her fingers creak. A sudden gust of wind tried to push her over. She uttered a quick prayer and charged.

Gyaidun saw the viliniket before it saw him-but only barely. The horse-sized shadow loomed out of the snow, one of the pale Siksin Neneweth perched on his back, and almost ran over Gyaidun before it saw him. He took advantage of the huge wolf's surprise and swung his iron club at its jaws. The beast pulled back, causing the blow to just graze its nose, then snapped forward, its jaws shutting so close that spittle hit Gyaidun's face and froze there. A quick swipe of his knife sent the huge wolf back, and the creature reared on its hind legs.

Gyaidun saw its rider raising his spear-and an arrow struck the rider in the throat. He jerked back, and the sudden change in weight overbalanced the wolf. It fell back, raising a huge cloud of snow that the wind tore away. Now riderless, it regained its footing, faced Gyaidun-and three arrows struck it in quick succession. What began as a snarl ended in a scream, then the wolves of the Vil Adanrath were on it, clawing and biting and tearing.

Amira heard the clash of steel on steel and followed it. In the darkness, she almost ran into the combatants. Two warriors faced off, their swords clashing, and in the murk of the predawn storm, Amira could not at first tell them apart. Both had skin only slightly darker than the snow in which they stood, and both sported a long mane of silver hair tossed by the wind. Each wore clothes cut and sewn from animal hides, but one was taller and had the larger form of a human, and the other-now that she was close enough, she could hear it, no mistake-was growling like a beast unchained. She raised her staff, pointed it at the larger of the two combatants-and the sky overhead blazed. A burst of light, like a tiny piece of the sun itself, glowed in the air several dozen feet above the valley, lighting all the land beneath in harsh contrasts of frost white and blue shadow. A spell from the belkagen, Amira felt sure. Still, in the fierceness of the snowstorm she could see little but whirling white beyond the two men trying to kill each other. The human-in the new light, she saw him clearly as one of the Frost Folk-was startled by the sudden flare. The elf before him was not. The Vil Adanrath warrior brought his single-edged blade across the human's stomach in a horizontal swipe-so hard that Amira felt blood splatter her face four paces away. The pale human's knees collapsed even as his entrails spilled on the snow before him, but the elf was already gone, seeking another foe. Amira followed him.

Even with the new light blazing overhead, Gyaidun could not see more than a dozen paces in any direction. But he knew where to go.

Just as a blindfolded man can come to the fire by following the heat in the air, so Gyaidun knew where to find the thing in the ash-gray cloak. This cold was beyond anything an autumn snowstorm could muster.

Gyaidun had the protection from the elements offered to him by the blessings of his covenant as athkaraye to the Vil Adanrath, and his body was swathed in thick hides and furs, but even he was begi