by T. H. Lain
"I hope we reach the Fell Forest soon," said Hennet. He spoke softly, for Sonja warned them that loud noises might set off snowfalls. "I don't like it that we haven't seen any trees yet."
"You know what I don't like?" said Regdar. "No more wolves howling." The fighter forced a half-hearted smile. "I didn't like it when we could hear them, and I really don't like it now that we can't."
Soon, a straight, sharp, white cliff face loomed ahead of them, flanked on both sides by similarly unscalable bluffs. They turned back to find a ravine up which they could escape, and immediately the air was filled with lupine howls.
"They herded us in here, the damned beasts!" shouted Lidda, drawing her blade.
"It cannot be," said Sonja. "This isn't wolf behavior at all."
Slender, black forms appeared in the distance, running hard toward the small group, leaping and bounding through snow sometimes as deep as their heads. At least two dozen wolves could be seen, and maybe more behind.
"What do we do, Sonja?" asked Hennet.
"I could try to tame them with my spells, but I couldn't get them all. My magic might not function correctly, or at all, if something's at work in their minds." She breathed heavily, reluctant to say what she was thinking. "Bury them. Do it quickly and painlessly and hopefully we can escape before more arrive."
"Bury them?" said Hennet. Then he realized what she meant. The wolves were close now, only a dozen yards away. Their reddish eyes shone through the snow falling all around them, their jaws hung wide open, and drool dripped off their lolling, pink tongues. Hennet extended his hand toward a snowy patch along a cliff face overhanging the valley. He conjured a magic missile and fired it, striking the snow and sending a rumble echoing through the valley.
The ice slid down the side of the cliff like a long, solid sheet, leaving the open rock behind it. The avalanche struck the ground just before the wolf pack, kicking up a cloud of ice and snow that set the ice tumbling off the opposite cliff as well. A few defiant half-barks, half-howls could be heard through the rumbling of the cascading snow. Hennet's avalanche also tipped off lesser falls of snow all along the sides of the valley, almost reaching the party's position, but these were small and inconsequential. By the time the cloud of snow had settled enough to allow some visibility, the entire wolf pack was buried beneath the avalanche.
"That was unfortunate," said Sonja, her eyes lowered. Howls could still be heard in the distance. "Quick," she continued. "It sounds like the rest of the pack is in the valley already. We have to find a way out of here before they arrive."
The party carefully climbed over the mound of snow where the wolves were buried, falling leg-deep into the loose-packed snow as they did. The jumble filled the center of the valley, and they stuck to the walls as much as possible as they slid through to the other side.
It was hardest for Lidda, whose small legs barely lifted her above the level of the snow. As she clawed her way through, her leg brushed against something furry and dead within the mound. She clenched her teeth, trying not to think about it. When she made it to the other side, she was about to say something when a sudden stir of snow and teeth thrust out of the snow pile behind her, nudging against her leg.
Lidda let out a sharp yelp, sending a few trickles of snow from the unstable cliffs around them, and pulled away. A wolf's snow-covered snout poked out of the snow behind her, teeth bared and emitting a low growl. It didn't sink its teeth into Lidda's leg but offered only a small nip. Lidda spun around and drew her sword.
"Lidda, don't," said Sonja. "It could have bitten you but it didn't." The druid stepped forward as the weak and dying animal pulled more of its body out of the snow. Sonja helped it by grasping the scruff of its neck and hoisting it free. It lay on the ground, its stomach heaving.
"Uh, Sonja," said Hennet, "shouldn't we keep moving…"
Ignoring him, Sonja laid her hand over the wolf's head, stroking its ears gently, and she closed her eyes. A calmness overtook the animal's face, the redness clouding its eyes fading away. The wolf's mouth opened, and it let out a soft moan. Its eyes slipped shut, and the heaving of its chest ceased.
"Is it dead?" asked Lidda.
"It said something to me before it died," said Sonja. "It said 'don't resist.'"
"What does that mean?" asked Regdar.
The sound of running paws grew through the valley. This second wolf pack rounded a corner, coming into full view as it ran toward the party. There were many more of them in this group, so many that there was scarcely room enough for all of them in the valley. Regdar extended his hand to fire a magic missile, but Sonja pulled his arm back.
"That's not necessary," she said. "These wolves will not harm us."
"Are you kidding?" said Lidda, her sword at the ready.
"I'm serious. They were told not to kill us, and they won't. You selected me as your leader, so let me lead you now."
"Sonja," said Regdar, his hand on the hilt of his greatsword as the tide of wolves narrowed in, "are you absolutely sure?"
Sonja didn't answer but stared steel-eyed into the coming wolf pack. She raised her hands above her shoulders in a gesture of surrender.
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 th
e 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 cla
ims 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.
7
The emotions felt by the other members of the party ranged from amazement to shock to fear. No one, not even Hennet, had ever seen her do this before. They all knew, of course, that some druids were capable of making such transformations, but they didn't know that Sonja could.
Anxious to assuage their fears, Sonja approached her companions. They instinctively pulled back, but she kept her tail low, her face open and docile. She approached Hennet and rubbed her furry cheek against his leg. Hennet cautiously ran his hand over her head, tousling her ears and feeling the contours of her doglike skull. Her hair was soft and silky and her eyes, now shaped like a wolf's, were still Sonja's soft blue. Some ineffable essence of Sonja shone through them still.
"Foolish hound!" Savanak roared. "Do you think your cheap magic trick impresses me?"
Sonja, now capable only of wolf language, snarled back.