CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ilvani dreamed, and in her dreams, the rashemi witch stood over her as she lay in the middle of a vast battlefield. Tuigan corpses lay strewn about in their death poses. Their faces all turned toward her, accusing. Blood soaked the ground.

“It’s coming,” the dead witch told Ilvani. “I hope you’re pleased.”

“What?” Ilvani tried to stand up, but the wind blew in fierce gusts that bore shards of glass. The pain knocked her off her feet. “We have to run!”

“Yes, run,” the woman said mockingly, “before it’s too late. Run, run. You said you’d help me!”

Blood poured from a wound in the woman’s stomach. Ilvani saw the blood eat up the ground and come toward her like a living creature. Behind the witch, in the distance, the storm approached.

Ilvani got to her feet and stumbled away, but she knew she couldn’t outrun the vicious wind. It sliced open her arms, legs, cheeks, and hands, until she couldn’t see her own skin for the blood.

Ilvani screamed until her throat was hoarse. She screamed until she woke herself and realized that the rest of the camp was screaming too.

It was still dark, but fires moved among the ruins-the guards and drovers ran about, swinging torches in the air. She caught a glimpse of Kaibeth, shouting orders to some of the others, her face and hair bloodied.

“Keep the fire on them!” she yelled, and disappeared again into the darkness.

Ilvani stood up. Smoke poured from a mass of gray-black flesh on the ground not far from where she’d slept. The putrid stench of its burning filled Ilvani’s nose, and she gagged. Unwillingly, she started toward it to see what it was, but then in the smoke and darkness, she saw three large lumbering shapes just out of reach of the torchlight. Then came the sound of a great impact, bones crushed, and a body flew out of the darkness and landed at her feet.

She stared at the dead man’s sightless eyes. He had a hole in his skull. Chips of white bone stuck to his forehead. Strangely, his lips and the left side of his face were blue with frost.

Ilvani stretched out her awareness and felt an unnatural aura surrounding the camp. She realized then that the air was much, much colder than it should have been, even for the winter night.

“Fire,” she said. She lifted her right hand and called again in the tongue of magic. Her hand burst into orange flame. Torch in hand, she walked purposefully toward the lumbering shapes. She had to find Ashok and tell him it was time to release the nightmare and its deadly flame.

Otherwise, the ice trolls would kill them all.


Ashok was far enough away in the ruins that he didn’t hear the screams heralding the first attack. He awoke at the same time as Mareyn. Stiff in his arms, she listened with him to the sounds of frantic movement and shouts from the camp. Then they moved at once, grabbed clothing and weapons, and ran into the darkness.

They were in such a rush that they nearly ran up the back of one of the trolls.

A blast of frigid air assailed Ashok’s limbs. Beside him, Mareyn gasped when she ran into the troll’s aura. She fumbled for her weapon, and Ashok swung his chain above his head. Their movements were sluggish, hampered by the frozen air. Ashok’s breath was a fire in his lungs.

The troll heard them and swung around, its huge maul leading. Mareyn dived out of the way and rolled in the snow. Ashok dodged and let his chain fly over the troll’s weapon. It struck the monster in one of its black, jewel-like eyes. The troll howled in pain and clutched its face. Retreating several paces, it stepped into the light of one of the campfires, and Ashok got a good look at it.

The monster had gray, lumpy skin and a fine coat of frost-rimed hair all over its body but especially around its thick lips. Oversized ears were black at the tips. They drooped almost to the creature’s shoulders. The frost gave its skin an odd, glittering quality like crystal in the light of the campfires.

Mareyn came up in a flurry of snow and steel. She stabbed the troll in the thigh while it was still distracted with its wound. The creature took a blind step toward her and swiped at her with its free hand. Mareyn tried to dodge again, but the cold aura emanating from the creature made her clumsy. Troll claws caught her by the arm and lifted her into the air. She hit the remains of a stone wall and fell on her stomach.

Ashok hollered to get the troll’s attention and let his chain fly again. The troll turned back to face him, and Ashok fumbled the strike when he saw the creature’s face.

The monster’s eye wound had closed. Only the dark blood on its face marked where he’d injured the thing. This rapid healing was bad enough, but the look in its eyes truly gave Ashok pause. Its eyes were feverish, unfocused, almost as if the creature didn’t fully understand where it was or what it was doing.

This was not the attack of an organized party of trolls seeking food. These mad creatures craved blood and violence just like the shadow beasts that Tuva’s caravan had encountered on the plain.

Ilvani’s demons had followed her to the surface of Faerun.

Mareyn groaned and pulled herself to a sitting position. “Fire,” she said. “We have to burn them.”

Them. Ashok turned and saw three other shapes silhouetted in the campfire lights. Trolls surrounded the camp.

He heard the distant screams of the horses. They ran free, terrified as they fought to escape the trolls. One of the creatures burst through a partial stone structure and grabbed a fleeing horse by the neck. The poor animal’s scream cut off abruptly as the troll snapped its neck.

Ashok knew at least one of the animals wouldn’t be running.

“I have to find my horse,” Ashok said to Mareyn. He struck the troll with the end of his chain, again drawing blood and a scream from the monster.

“What?” Mareyn cried. “They’re scattered, Ashok.” She got to her feet and came at the troll’s back, slashing with her blade. The creature kept its attention on Ashok and the chain. It held one hand over its face and swung its maul with the other.

Ashok took the blow to his shoulder and went down on his knees. His armor took some of the impact, but he still felt brilliant pain light up the left side of his body. The troll stood over him and raised his maul for an overhand strike that would drive Ashok into the ground. Ashok waited until the last second and teleported out from under the weapon. When he reappeared several feet away, he heard the shuddering impact of the weapon with the ground.

With the troll bent over and off balance, Mareyn came in from its left side and chopped overhand at the creature’s head. The troll scuttled back out of the way with surprising grace, but it wasn’t fast enough. Mareyn’s strike severed its left ear.

Perfect, Ashok thought. The troll held the side of its head and thrashed, spraying blood on the snow. In his shadowy form, Ashok moved to stand in front of the creature. The troll looked up at him and snarled.

Ashok smiled at it.

The troll screamed and dived at him, but it passed through Ashok’s incorporeal body and slid in the snow. Ashok felt his flesh thicken and take on weight. He bent and scooped up the troll’s ear.

“Come and get it,” he said, then turned and ran. “Help the others,” he yelled to Mareyn. “Find your good-luck partner.”

“You’re insane!” she called after him. He didn’t turn, but he heard the wild laughter in her voice.

Ashok ran through the remnants of the camp. He saw the fires among the stones. The guards and drovers waved torches and weapons at the trolls when they attacked out of the darkness. Bodies of the caravan guards lay strewn about the ruins. Ashok didn’t see the brothers or Ilvani, but he trusted Mareyn to find her.

He heard a horse scream and saw Thorm at the edge of the camp. He was trying to mount the nightmare. The illusion held-the beast still appeared to be a common saddle horse. The dwarf had no idea what he was trying to tame.

“Godsdamned beast … hold still!” he cried, but the horse kicked him aside, and Thorm fell. He clutched his gut and winced in pain.

“Leaving us?” Ashok said. The troll’s thundering footsteps echoed close behind him. “Or were you planning to ride into battle to save the caravan?”

“The caravan’s lost,” Thorm said. “Get out while you still can. We can go together-”

“Then you and your brigands will come back later to clean up what’s left,” Ashok said. The dwarf paled, and Ashok knew all he needed to about the dwarf’s loyalties. “The perfect plan. Here, hold this.”

He tossed the troll’s ear at the dwarf. Thorm caught it without looking, and his eyes widened when he saw the troll bearing down on them.

Ashok jumped on the nightmare’s back. The beast reared, forcing Ashok to grab his mane to keep his balance.

“Missed me, did you?” Ashok grunted. With his fists buried in the nightmare’s mane, he wheeled the stallion around to face the troll. “See that? Time to play.”

The troll swung its maul wildly and hit the dwarf in the chest. Thorm crumpled at the monster’s feet, but he still breathed. He tried to crawl out of the way, but the troll reared back for another strike.

“Time to play,” Ashok repeated in a whisper. He leaned forward across the stallion’s neck. His fingers found the enchanted necklace that bound the nightmare’s essence, the spurs buried securely in his flesh. Ashok curled his fingers around the binding and ripped it off.

A scream so loud that it shook the ruined structures echoed through the camp. The trolls and the warriors fighting them all stopped at once and went to their knees in a vast wave. Ashok felt scorching heat surround him, as intense as if he stood in the middle of a forge. Fire erupted from the nightmare’s mane, tail, and fetlocks. For a breath, Ashok thought the stallion intended to burn him alive as retribution for his confinement. But as quickly as they appeared, the fires where Ashok sat banked and cooled, burning with a low blue radiance.

With the troll in front of him distracted, Thorm was able to crawl for cover in the ruins. He gazed out at the nightmare in openmouthed horror. Ashok guided the stallion forward to face the troll. The nightmare needed no urging. Ashok let the end of his chain dangle just above the ground.

“Time to burn,” he said.

The troll swung its maul at the nightmare. The stallion lunged aside with a speed that had the troll overbalanced and its flank exposed. Turning, the nightmare slammed his burning body into the troll, almost crushing Ashok’s right leg. Ashok jumped up and stood on the nightmare’s back. He wrapped his chain around the troll’s neck and jerked its head to the side. The troll thrashed and tried to pull away, but its flesh burned. A putrid stench filled the air.

The nightmare screamed again and drove his body harder into the troll’s flesh. Ashok sawed back and forth with his chain, while the nightmare’s fire licked up his leg and blistered his skin.

The troll finally wrenched free and dragged Ashok off the nightmare’s back. He held on to the troll by the chain and used the weapon to pull himself up the monster’s back. The troll dropped its maul and swiped furiously at Ashok with its claws. Ashok swung back and forth like a pendulum to dodge the blows, but he slipped and caught a slash to his cheek just below the eye.

Meanwhile, the nightmare cantered back and, without Ashok on his back, poured forth the full fire of his body. The troll staggered back from the heat, and Ashok let go of his chain and dropped to the ground.

The cut on his cheek was deep; he felt the blood running down his neck to pool between his armor and shirt. There was not as much pain as he expected. Empty-handed, Ashok faced the troll as the monster turned to flee from the burning nightmare. The troll charged him, intent on running him down, but Ashok slid on his back feet first in the snow and grabbed one of the troll’s thick legs. The monster stumbled but didn’t stop. It dragged Ashok along the ground as it tried to make an escape.

The nightmare took his time in pursuit. He knew his prey would not get away. Another breath, and Ashok let go of the monster’s leg. The nightmare charged, leaping over Ashok, a living fireball that slammed into the troll’s body again and knocked it to the ground. The stallion tore into its flesh with his teeth, then reared and smashed his burning hooves into the troll’s flesh until the creature was also a ball of flame.

As the troll perished, the nightmare’s flames diminished until Ashok was able to approach it to mount. The nightmare swung his head to face Ashok, his nostrils flaring.

He smells my blood, Ashok thought. Even now, he’s hungry for more.

Ashok leaned in and touched his forehead to the stallion’s nose, tempting him to snap, testing his own restraint and the nightmare’s. The stallion’s lips pulled back to reveal teeth stained with troll blood. Foul breath caressed his face, and Ashok again found himself on the edge of oblivion. His own breaths were quick and shallow. They burned in his chest. His body trembled with the urge to pull away from death-or embrace it.

Alive again in the moment, Ashok thought-so alive, though it may kill me.

Screams drew Ashok out of his stupor. He remembered himself, and more importantly, he remembered Skagi, Cree, and Ilvani. The caravan had brought down another of the trolls, but two others hemmed them in.

He gathered his chain, mounted the nightmare, and dug his heels into the stallion’s sides. The nightmare took off, galloping wildly through the ruins amid torchlight and screams. They came within sight of the second troll corpse, a misshapen, burning lump in the snow. Kaibeth and two of the human warriors fed the flames with their torches to make sure the troll wouldn’t rise again. Beyond them, Ashok saw more fires, but these did not come from torches or troll corpses.

Ilvani walked through the camp with Skagi and Cree in front and behind her. Yellow flame wreathed her hands. The trio approached the other two trolls at the edge of the ruins. Ilvani made a gesture, and the flames in her hands went out. She shouted words that Ashok didn’t understand, and suddenly Cree’s katars burst into flame. Skagi’s falchion glowed red at the hilt. The radiance spread up the blade and erupted into fire. The brothers raised their newly enchanted weapons and charged the trolls, screaming.

Ashok angled the nightmare to their left to come in at the second troll’s flank. Ilvani turned toward him and saw the nightmare’s flame from a distance. The firelight reflected in her black eyes. She lifted her arms. Ashok understood what she meant to do and ripped his chain off his belt.

The end fell to the ground, and the spikes burst into purple flame. Ashok ground his heels into the nightmare’s flanks to keep the stallion from slamming into the troll this time. He swung the chain over his head and struck the troll as the nightmare charged past. The spikes, enhanced by the smith’s magic and Ilvani’s fire, sliced through the monster’s tough hide and took half its arm away. The purple flames crawled along its skin, and the troll screamed and clutched its maimed appendage.

Out in the darkness beyond the camp, Ashok wheeled the nightmare around for another charge. From this vantage, he saw Vlahna and Tuva fighting the other troll with the rest of the human guards. Vlahna guided her horse with her knees and fired an arrow. It burst into purple flame before it struck the other troll in the eye. She dismounted and, with the spiked chain still wrapped around her arm, followed up the arrow shot with a vicious swipe to the creature’s back.

One after another, her attacks weakened the troll, but despite these successes, Ashok sensed something was off in her body language. She hacked at the thing in desperation and placed her body in front of Tuva whenever possible. Finally, the big warrior pushed her roughly aside and charged in to strike his own blow against the troll. When he did, Ashok saw the cause of Vlahna’s desperation.

Tuva had no visible wound, but he limped and swung his weapon stiffly, half-frozen from the troll’s aura. Not only did he present an appealingly large target, but he also stood too close to the monster to escape a blow in his wounded state. Vlahna tried in vain to protect him.

The creature swung a spiked club wildly and hit Tuva. The blow plucked the shadar-kai off his feet and threw him into one of the fires. He rolled away but stumbled trying to get back up. Ashok saw him vomit blood onto the snow.

Vlahna screamed in fury and hacked into the troll again. She used the spikes to lever herself up the monster’s back. She climbed and hacked until the troll collapsed to its knees from the pain.

Ashok spurred the nightmare forward for another charge. The purple fire made his chain painful to hold, but Ashok reveled in the gift. He came at the other troll from behind, snapping the chain up and then straight down. The spikes raked up and down the troll’s back, leaving a line of purple fire. The monster went down and took another fiery arrow to its neck. Its flesh bristled with them, and the fires spread. The warriors converged on the maddened trolls in close combat, hacking and dodging the wild blows from their clubs and claws.

It was over quickly after that. Even in their maddened state, the trolls couldn’t stand against their superior numbers, and soon there were four immense bonfires burning in the ruins.

Five, Ashok corrected. Now that the immediate danger was past, the caravan crewmembers turned their attention to the other menace in their midst. The warriors, shadar-kai and human alike, surrounded Ashok and the nightmare, but they kept a safe distance between themselves and the beast’s flaming hooves. For his part, the nightmare stomped the ground and shook his head back and forth in barely checked fury.

“Don’t come any closer,” Ashok advised the crew. “He’ll snap at you if you do.” The warriors must have sensed a threat in his words, for he heard swords slide from scabbards.

Skagi, Cree, and Ilvani worked their way through the crowd. On the ground, Vlahna and Kaibeth helped Tuva, who looked badly wounded.

“Where is a cleric?” Ashok said. He ignored the threat from the crowd. “Tuva needs healing.”

“ ‘Tuva’ … needs … an explanation.” The warrior leaned on the two women for support. Blood coated his lips and chin. “What have you brought us, Ashok?”

“You know what he is,” Ashok said. “I’ll wager you’ve brought them in from the Shadowfell plain yourself on caravan runs.”

“But to hide it among us all this time,” one of the human guards said, “you must be mad.”

“The beast has been under an enchantment until now,” Ashok said. “The magic keeps its essence contained. By the will of Neimal, the Sworn of the Wall, its powers couldn’t have harmed you.”

“Why weren’t we told?” Vlahna demanded. “If Neimal permitted this, there must have been a reason.”

Ashok started to speak and was shocked to hear Ilvani’s voice echo over the crowd.

“For your protection,” the witch said. She glanced at the troll pyres. “The monsters were drawn here.” She dropped her voice. “More will come.”

Uneasy murmurs drifted through the crowd. “More trolls?” Tatigan asked, stepping as close as he dared to the nightmare so he could address Ashok.

“Maybe-we can’t be sure,” Ashok said. “Some force is driving the creatures of the Shadowfell mad, sending them into killing rages, just like what we witnessed that day on the plain,” he said, looking at Tuva and Vlahna. “We thought the madness didn’t extend to the creatures of this world-”

“You were wrong,” Vlahna said flatly. “You should have warned us.”

“I know,” Ashok said, “but we didn’t think it would be necessary. By the strength of its will, the nightmare has been able to shake off the affliction, so I brought it along in secret to protect the caravan. We intend to seek the counsel of the witches in Rashemen to find out why all this is happening.”

He met Skagi’s and Cree’s gazes in the crowd. He did not mention the other reason they’d kept silent, the part Ilvani’s dreams played in triggering the killing sprees. If they knew, there was every possibility Vertan would have a dagger at the witch’s throat again.

And Ashok would have to kill him.

“So in the meantime, we’re stuck out here in the middle of winter with our numbers diminished and half our wagons and horses either dead or damaged,” Tatigan said. “Tomorrow we start up into the mountains, so the worst is yet to come.”

“At least we’ll be traveling light,” Kaibeth murmured. Tuva shot her a quelling glance, but she ignored him. “The witch is right,” she said. “When the monsters come, better we have the protection of bigger monsters.”

“And what a monster we have,” Daruk, standing closer than all the others in the crowd, remarked. He lifted his hand in the air as if tasting the nightmare’s aura. “This is more than I could have hoped for. There’s a song in this, make no mistake.”

The guards scoffed, but they had relaxed their grip on their weapons. The nightmare snuffed out a breath and danced in place, but Ashok didn’t think the stallion would lash out.

“You’ll have to keep it well away from the other beasts,” Vlahna told him. “It’ll slow our pace to nothing if the horses have to labor under the strain of that thing’s presence.”

“Done,” Ashok said. He looked at Tuva, who was sweating, his body trembling with the effort of standing upright, even with Vlahna and Kaibeth’s assistance. “You need a cleric,” he repeated.

Tuva grinned, exposing bloodstained teeth. “The clerics are dead,” he said. “We’ll all have to settle for bandages and bed rest from here until we get to Rashemen.”

“We’ll never make it,” said one of the older drovers. He was a tall, white-bearded, gangly human with a crooked nose. “Not through the mountains, not if we have to endure another rush attack like this one.”

Tatigan looked at the old drover. “You’ve been on enough runs to know, Baelthis. What say you to that?” he asked Tuva.

“I still say we were running too heavy to begin with,” Kaibeth broke in. “We scrape off all the excess-wagons, dead horses, extra gear-keep the bare essentials, and we’ll glide through the mountains smoother than we would have if we were carrying all that fat you humans thought you couldn’t live without.”

The drovers were indignant, and Tuva snarled, “You keep those thoughts to yourself, Bl-” He caught himself, but Kaibeth stiffened, and new tension suffused the camp as her warriors automatically took a step closer to their leader. Ashok thought Kaibeth would throw off Tuva’s arm, but she kept her anger in check.

“No, she’s right, Tuva,” Vlahna spoke up, which silenced them all. “The leaner we are, the better chance we have of getting through the mountains with minimal losses. Tatigan, I know your crew doesn’t want to hear it, but you’re all too much concerned with comfort. If we’re going to do this right, we have to do it our way.”

“So we’re a shadar-kai caravan now, are we?” Daruk said. He scratched at his chin. “Interesting how the power balance subtly shifts.”

Disgruntled murmurs of agreement ran through the crowd, especially among the drovers. Ashok silently cursed the bard. He seemed to enjoy nothing more than spreading dissent, even if it ended up getting them all killed.

The Martucks worked their way to the front of the crowd to stand beside Tatigan. The woman kept close by the boy, Les. They all carried torches.

“What say you in all this, Martuck?” Tatigan said. “You have an equal stake in this to lose.” He addressed the family as a whole. It struck Ashok as odd. He expected it to mean they’d hear three different voices and opinions, which would be no more helpful than Daruk, but the man and woman exchanged a glance, and the woman nodded.

“We’re willing to go on with you,” the man said. “We’ve come too far to turn back without great loss. And we’re willing to trim down our gear if that’s what it takes.”

Tatigan nodded. “What says Thorm, then?” he asked. He scanned the crowd to try to pick out the dwarf.

“Thorm is gone,” Ashok spoke up.

“Dead?” Tatigan asked.

“Not last I saw him,” Ashok said. “More likely he’s fled to join the brigands.”

“He’s the traitor?” Tatigan’s composure, thus far carefully maintained, broke at last. He cursed violently and hurled the torch in his hands to the ground. The brand guttered and died in the snow. The eyes of the crowd were drawn to the hissing and the smoke.

“He fooled us all,” the Martuck woman said. “We all agreed he’d be our third partner, Tatigan. We trusted him too.”

“I know it, Leesal, but he was my choice. I brought him to you.” Tatigan rubbed his eyes in weariness and looked up at Ashok. “Brigands too,” he said. “What else could we be facing?”

“Winter wolves,” Cree said. “We’re in their territory now. Probably only the trolls’ presence has scared them off up to now. They’ll be coming at us. Before they might have been content to pick off stragglers, but if they’re afflicted by the madness, there’s no telling what they’ll do.”

“We have to assume they’ll attack and fight until they’re all dead,” Tuva said, “just like the others.”

“Brigands, wolves, trolls-like I told you,” Baelthis, the old drover, said, “we can’t make it.”

“We can if we plan it right,” Ashok said. “We have no clerics, but we have capable warriors, magic”-he pointed at Ilvani-“and a monster, as Kaibeth said. But our best advantage is that we know what we’re facing.”

“What about the mountains?” Baelthis said. “There are dangers enough up there to kill us all without the monsters’ help. Crevasses to bury whole wagons, avalanches, storms-”

“And the spirits,” Ilvani said. “The spirits of Rashemen claim that land. We walk in their footsteps.”

“The monsters and the brigands will face those same dangers if they follow us,” Vlahna said.

“Which means we can use them,” Tuva said. A fit of violent coughing overtook him then, and he spat more blood on the snow. Kaibeth and Vlahna exchanged grim looks.

Skagi came forward and spread his cloak on a clear patch near the ruins of a stone hut. “Put him down here. He needs to take the weight off his feet so he can breathe.”

“I’m fine,” Tuva barked. “Gods, I haven’t been this clearheaded in a tenday.” But he allowed the women to lower him to the makeshift bed.

“We’ll need that clearheadedness to make a plan of attack,” Vlahna said. “Drovers, you’ll come with me to collect the gear and get the wagons in order. Guards, collect the horses. You know what to do with the injured beasts.” She looked at Kaibeth. “Will you help me?”

Kaibeth nodded. She instructed her sellswords to help with the wounded. Skagi, Cree, and Ilvani went with them.

The crowd slowly dispersed. Each had their task to focus on, so that fear would not overtake them. Tatigan motioned to Ashok. Ashok got down off the nightmare’s back and went to where he, Daruk, and the Martucks stood near Tuva’s pallet. Mareyn shadowed the boy and kept watch. She still clutched her ribs from where she’d hit the stones, but she walked steadily and looked clear-eyed. They all looked uneasy at seeing the nightmare so close among them. The stallion’s aura of fear and evil was impossible to ignore, but no one remarked on it so long as the beast kept silent.

“Baelthis isn’t a coward,” Tatigan said. “If he says our chances are bad, he means it. You three need to devise a strategy to get us through the mountains.” He pointed at Ashok, Tuva, and Daruk. Ashok was surprised to find the bard included in the group.

The bard caught Ashok’s look and smiled. “Don’t worry, fire bringer. I may not be shadar-kai, but I know how to compose a play. You all get to be my actors.”

“I could make a jest about this turning from a farce to a tragedy,” Mareyn said dryly, “but I won’t.”

Tatigan and the Martucks chuckled, which eased a bit of the tension.

“Let’s get to work, then,” Tuva said. “However the story ends, it begins at first light.”


They reached the foothills of the Sunrise Mountains by midday. The snow held off for most of the morning, though the clouds were heavy and ominous the whole way. When they reached the last stone marker before the mountain pass, thick flakes began to fall, but the hills gave them a respite from the wind. The going was slow enough, but not impossible.

Ashok trailed behind the caravan, keeping only Skagi and Cree in sight ahead of him. The brothers rode their horses back as close as they dared every hour or so to check on him. They worried he would lose sight of the caravan and risk fading in the blank whiteness, but Ashok’s senses were alert.

The deeper they forged into the mountains, the higher the rock walls. There were many places for an ambush, many cracks and crevices for enemies to hide. They were walking into the mouth of the beast, and all of them knew it. Ashok was ready.

Cree rode back to him an hour later. “See anything?” he asked.

Ashok shook his head. “It will come soon,” he said.

“I feel it too,” Cree said. “Skagi’s about to jump out of his skin.”

“And Ilvani?”

Cree’s brow furrowed. Ashok felt a surge of trepidation.

“She doesn’t look well,” Cree said. “She tried to sleep earlier, but she’s having dreams, bad ones. I asked her about them, but she’s not making sense. Skagi thinks it might be the nightmare tormenting her-revenge for what happened out on the plain. What do you think?”

“It’s the spirits,” Ashok said. “Whatever got into her head before is back again, and it’s drawing in all the monsters.” He clenched his hands into fists. “We should have turned away from Rashemen before we got too deep in the spirit land. She was fine when it was only this world she had to worry about.”

Cree listened, but Ashok could tell the warrior didn’t fully understand. Neither did Ashok. He wasn’t convinced the witches would understand Ilvani’s affliction, either, or choose to help someone who wasn’t one of their own people, but now it was their only choice.

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