Plague of Ice

Epilogue

Hennet floated through a disoriented, half-waking state of restless motion, of endless up-and-down movement, cradled and carried. At one point, Hennet was sure that he opened his eyes long enough to see the land still carpeted in implacable snow, and he lamented that they failed. But eventually he felt warmth on his cheek, warmth from Pelor's sun, and he knew that they had won. They were heroes. They had turned hack the tide of ice and saved Klionne, Atupal, and only the gods knew how many cities beyond them.

But they lost the girl.

When he awoke, Hennet was wrapped in an envelope of silk with the welcome aromas of incense and wood smoke wafting through the air. He felt soft, lingering pain, but most of all, he felt warm.

"You're awake," said a familiar, female voice.

"Lidda," said Hennet, squinting. He lay in an unfamiliar bed, his head resting on a luxurious feather pillow in a cozy, oak-lined room. The halfling sat next to him in a rocking chair that was so grotesquely oversized for her that he couldn't help smiling. A small table stood next to the bed. A good-sized fire kept a steady roar in the hearth in the corner.

"It's good to have you back," Lidda said.

"Where is this?" Hennet asked.

"Atupal. The Berron Inn. You've been sleeping for days."

"Regdar?

"He carried you all the way here. When we arrived," Lidda explained, "we had you healed at the shrine of Pelor. The priest said that you were probably a few hours from death."

"Gods above," Hennet mouthed. He felt stiff and weak but knew he been healed. The frostbite that destroyed his flesh on the Plane of Ice was gone. It was strange, though, that he could still feel the bruise on his cheek where Regdar had punched him. Perhaps it was all in his mind, he thought.

Hennet pulled himself up in bed and peeked out the window. Some snow still clung to the rooftops of Atupal, hut the summer sun was doing its work.

"So the cold zone did reach this far," he observed.

"Yes," said Lidda. "Just. It didn't take much time to get out after we reversed the gate. No monsters to slow us down, just fields on fields of slush. Crops are destroyed, fields in ruin, and the bulk of the ice remains. It will melt, but the region's going to be a mess for a few years."

"Sonja?" Hennet didn't need to ask what happened to her. He knew.

"She's still alive," Lidda reminded him. "If any human is equipped to survive on the Plane of Ice, that's Sonja. And I bet she'll do everything she can to return."

Despite Lidda's comforting words, Hennet's eyes showed little hope.

"If you feel strong enough," Lidda said, "I can get you something to eat or drink. Regdar's down in the bar. Everybody in the city wants to buy us an ale and hear the stories of our exploits."

"I'm starving, Lidda. That would be terrific," said Hennet. He rubbed his cheek. The stinging sensation was gone. "And send Regdar up. I'd like to talk to him."