Plague of Ice

6

When the wolves arrived, the pack did exactly as Sonja said. Some of them stopped in their tracks ahead of the party while others slipped past them to take up positions on their flanks or rear. There was no running away now, and dozens of cloudy, red wolf eyes were trained directly at the party.

"Talk to them, Sonja," said Hennet.

"I don't need to," Sonja replied. "I know exactly what they'd say. They want us to come with them."

To prove the point, the wolves behind them took a step forward.

"A wolf escort," mused Regdar. "I sure hope they take us someplace good."

At that, they all started moving. At the first navigable ravine, the wolves directed them upward, climbing to the top of the hills. The wolves directed them vaguely to the northeast. "At least they're taking us in the right direction," Lidda quipped as the wolves led them farther into the cold zone.

For hours they proceeded through the snow-covered hills and valleys, an unceasing march. Whenever one of them slowed or threatened to stop altogether, a quiet growl, a threatening glance, or a slight nip kept them moving. Occasionally more wolves joined the pack, silently appearing out of the gloom and taking their place among the lupine escorts. Some of them were black, some were white or brown, some old, and others little more than pups. Some were pristine and clean while others' muzzles were coated with blood.

On the whole, the party was probably traveling at a better pace than they would have if left to themselves, as the wolves leading the way broke a path through the deep snow, easing everyone else's passage. Moreover, they proceeded in what Sonja believed was almost exactly the same direction that she'd been headed, but the exertion of the march left them cold, dispirited, and ill-prepared for combat. Sonja tried using her magic to communicate with the wolves, but she could not get a more telling statement than, "Don't resist."

"Why are we doing this?" Hennet asked under his breath, even though he didn't expect the wolves knew what he was saying. "I think we still could fight off these wolves, especially if I dropped a fireball right in the middle of them."

"I don't like being out of control," agreed Regdar. "Perhaps we should try something bold."

"Make one threatening move and you'll be torn to shreds," promised Sonja. "We've killed enough wolves today. These animals are under the control of something unnatural. I want to know what." She paused before adding, "I want to free them."

Eventually they left the hills behind and entered a new landscape. It was mostly flat, though still with occasional rises and cliffs, and under their feet there was the vague impression of sponginess, as of a frozen moss floor. All around them the land was dotted with small, snow-covered mounds.

"What are these, Sonja?" asked Lidda.

"Trees," the druid said, "or what's left of them. This is the Fell Forest. Remember when the gnoll said that its home was destroyed by the weather changes? I didn't think it meant that quite so literally. Nature has been dealt a cruel blow indeed."

When they passed close to one of these mounds, Regdar, moving slowly enough to not alarm the wolves, scraped some ice off its top. Underneath was the jagged impression of a tree stump. Everything that previously was above the stump had been torn away by a mighty force.

"Well, what happened to the trees, then?" asked Hennet. "I don't see them anywhere." The wind at this moment was reasonably strong but not so forceful that it could tear a tree in half and deposit it miles away.

Sonja looked up at the sky. It was a menacing mixture of gray, white, and black. "The weather in this zone isn't predictable. Those winds last night were fierce, but they were mild compared to whatever did this. Maybe they deposited the trees far from here. Or maybe somewhere up there-" she pointed at the white sky-"those tree trunks are still flying away, waiting for the winds to let up, waiting to drop."

"Yondalla protect us!" swore Lidda, casting a nervous glance at the sky. "I don't want to be standing underneath them when they do."

"No," agreed Regdar. "Nor do I want to be here when those winds start up again."

The wolves quickly moved the party to an area clear of the stumps.

"This must have been a convenient path when the forest was still here," said Sonja. "The wolves keep to the habits of their forest home, even though it's now destroyed." She felt sorry for them, though she knew that these highly adaptable creature were far better suited to this new landscape than most animals.

This clinched one thing in her mind, at least. These wolves, or most of them, were native to this area. The snowbloom she'd found was certainly not, and she'd seen ample evidence of a strange influx of new life in the cold zone. But an influx from where? How could a fully grown snowbloom appear in a place that wasn't even snowy two weeks before?

"Sonja," complained Lidda, "how much longer can they lead us like this? My legs feel like they're going to fall off."

"It can't be much longer," Sonja said.

One of the wolves stopped, its ears perked straight up and its head twisting to the right, looking off into the snow. One by one the others followed suit, bringing the pack to a solid halt. A shape appeared out of the snow, a large form lumbering on all fours. Its fur was stark white, darkened only by a black nose dotting a snarling muzzle. Approaching the wolves, it rose onto two legs before letting out a deafening roar.

This cannot be, Sonja thought. A polar bear! Here? So far from open water, so far from the arctic? She wanted to think it had escaped from some degenerate carnival or from some rich man's private menagerie, but she knew the truth. It did not belong here. It was an interloper, a herald of the new landscape, ready now to do war with the vestiges of the old.

The wolves answered the charge, rushing forward to confront this new enemy, leaping, snarling, biting at its exposed flesh. The bear swung its frost-covered claws, crushing skulls and cracking ribs wherever it found a target. The limp corpses of wolves slammed back against oncoming attackers. The bulk of the wolves circled the bear to get onto its exposed flanks or to try a leap onto its back. The bear shifted its weight to crush the wolves, but they still came, biting, scratching, ripping at the bear wherever they could. The bear roared with pain but was undaunted, even as the wolves tore huge chunks of flesh from its sides. Blood flowed through the snow in red streams. In confronting this new enemy, the wolves seemed to have forgotten the four prisoners.

"What do we do?" Hennet whispered to Sonja.

"We can escape," said Lidda, but Sonja still stared at the violent spectacle, wondering whether to intervene.

Regdar stepped up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sonja," he said, "do you remember what you said when Hennet wanted to attack that dragon? You said our mission was to find the origin of the cold zone and stop it. Everything else is secondary. I think that once we find and stop the source of this ice, all of our other problems will fall into line, including these wolves. This is our chance to escape without hurting any more wolves. This chance might not come again. We should go."

Regdar's wisdom caught her by surprise. After a moment's hesitation, Sonja turned away from the wolves and the bear. The wolves were slowly wearing down the bear, clinging to its back, forcing it down onto all fours.

"Quickly then," Regdar whispered. They had barely set off when a loud howl sounded from behind them. They turned and saw something else appearing from out of the swirling snow. It was white, just like the polar bear, but it was no bear. It looked like a huge wolf, so enormous it towered even over the polar bear, but its size made it impossible for this creature to be a wolf. It was like nothing they'd ever seen. The snow swirled around it, as if trying to avoid landing on this beast. Its sharp, blue eyes glinted with a wicked intelligence.

The great wolf reared back, lowering its head parallel to the rest of its body so it pointed directly at the bear. It opened its mouth as if to growl, but something else entirely came out instead. A high-pitched shriek sounded, then a few blue-white streamers crept out of its maw toward the bear, followed a few seconds later by a brilliant ice-white cone that burst from between its open jaws. The cone expanded outward, catching the bear and all the wolves that hadn't scrambled away. The bear tried to roar, but no sound came out. Caught in the wolf's breath, its flesh froze within seconds. The wounded bear died quickly, but the great wolf kept exhaling its frigid breath, harder and longer, until the bear was no longer flesh and blood but something as fragile as ice.

Moments after the giant wolf stopped its onslaught, the bear's neck snapped under its own weight. The head fell off and rolled some distance before coming to rest.

The humans and halfling stood still, unsure whether to run or fight. The great wolf turned its blue eyes to them and with a single leap landed before them with such force that snow flew into their eyes. The surviving wolves, many of them battered and bloodied, ran to join it, forming a circle around the prisoners once again. The polar bear had killed many wolves, but enough remained to form a solid ring.

"What is that?" whispered Lidda.

Sonja knew exactly what it was and met its piercing glare.

"This is a winter wolf," she explained to the others. "My parents and I faced them on occasion. We killed them any time we could. They're cruel, wily creatures that operate as scouts for the frost giants. They're powerful and evil. They serve no useful purpose in nature."

"They're intelligent?" asked Regdar. "Could it behind all this?"

"I don't know," said Sonja. "It's possible but not likely."

"What do we do?" asked Hennet.

"Leave it to me," the druid answered, clutching her cudgel tightly.

The winter wolf bared its teeth as it ambled leisurely to the party. When it opened its mouth, it was not to freeze them with a breath but to speak. Its wolfish lips moved as a human's might, and it spoke in distorted Common!

"What have my children brought me now?" it said, its voice a distant growl rising in its throat.

"These are not your children!" cried Sonja. Then she snarled back at it as a wolf might, barking and growling. The other three stared at her, astonished. Of all the things they'd seen this day, this was the strangest yet.

"Let us keep to human language," the wolf said in its own tongue. "Otherwise it would be unfair to your friends."

"No," replied Sonja. "I can translate for them if I must. Your pack must hear what I have to say."

"Impertinence!" the wolf snarled. "I am the First Son of the Cold, the Archhunter of the Frozen Drifts of Daak. I am Savanak! I shall rip your friends to shreds to feed my pack and chew your slender form to whet my own hunger!"

"You shall not!" Sonja barked back. "I am a Daughter of the Endless Glacier! I have faced your kind before, Savanak! I have slaughtered them and removed their hearts for trophies!"

"I know of no Endless Glacier," the wolf countered, "and I know of no human who can make the claims you have."

"I challenge you, Savanak," Sonja said. "I challenge you for this pack, for leadership of all the wolves under your command. I make this challenge against your honor according to the ancient rules of wolf-kind, laws far older than man. You must obey. To deny such a challenge is an admission of cowardice."

The winter wolf switched to Common. "You cannot make this challenge!" it growled. "You are not a wolf."

"Neither are you," the druid spat back. She tossed her cudgel to the ground. Staring down the winter wolf, she lifted her arms so that a strange, shimmering light overtook her. Before the eyes of her companions her form warped. Her face distended, her nose slid forward, and her robes changed from white to gray and from gray to black, the material sprouting thick fur. Her hands shrank and grew claws, and a slender tail sprouted from her back. She slid down onto all fours, fully transformed into a tall, jet-black wolf.