by Lou Anders
Karn was farther north than he would have planned. The golden colors of the changing season were giving way to the whites and grays of the snow-covered foothills of the Ymirian mountain range. The alpine trees and green grasses had been replaced by rocky outcrops and scrub. Karn’s feet slipped more than once on icy ground as he marched uphill.
He knew that traveling toward colder temperatures probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but for now, Karn simply had to get away. Far away. What he would do and where he would go once he was free of wolves and After Walkers, well, he’d cross that fjord when he came to it.
Karn had vague notions that he might find a cave to hide in or maybe a promontory he could stand atop from which he might defend himself. He imagined himself tall, upon a large boulder, lobbing off draug heads and wolf snouts with his father’s sword, Whitestorm. It was a heroic image. But not a very likely one. Not when he was shivering so badly he could barely stop his hands from shaking. If only his father were here.
His eyes began to tear up from more than just the cold wind. He fought them back.
“It’s my fault!” he shouted to the mountains.
He had lost the draug at Kvir’s shrine. At least that much luck was with him. But the wolves—the wolves were harder to shake. The pack had kept up with him. The beasts were staying mostly out of sight, and always out of range of a good stone’s throw, but they weren’t giving up or going away.
Karn’s feet slipped again as loose rocks shifted under his boots. He bit it, landing facedown on the snowy slope. He spit snow and rubble from his mouth. He was so tired, he almost didn’t get back up. But lying still for a moment, he could hear soft, padding noises that weren’t of his making.
Karn spun around. There was a wolf just downhill. Karn wished he had a good bow or even a spear. He didn’t pretend his sword would do him much good against this many. His hand scrambled for another loose rock. He pried one up and flung it hard behind him. It missed the wolf, which nonetheless leapt away with a yelp. But two more wolves appeared downslope. This was bad.
Karn tossed more rocks as he rose and ran. He scrambled up the hill, but it was slow going on the difficult terrain and the wolves weren’t dropping back this time.
Ahead, Karn saw a lone fir tree clinging to the mountainside. It was his only choice. Behind him, the wolves must have realized the same thing. They charged.
Karn pounded his feet on the slippery slope. If he fell, it was over. He didn’t fall.
Reaching the fir, Karn jumped to grab the lowest branch, his cold fingers managing to grip the ice-encrusted bark. Using the very last reserves of his strength, Karn hauled himself up as the lead wolf slammed into the trunk below him hard enough to shake the branches and rain ice down on its furry head. Karn reached for the higher branches as the wolf below him leapt. Teeth snapped a handspan below his feet as he climbed higher into the tree.
Karn knew that his problems were far from over. Below him, the pack began circling. They knew that sooner or later he would have to come down. Karn was trapped.
Karn studied the wolves. They twined among themselves as they paced around the tree. Their movements were graceful, fluid. Majestic. Great, Karn thought, it’s not like being eaten by majestic animals is any better than being eaten by trolls.
He’d outwitted the troll. Maybe he could outwit the wolves. Karn studied the pack. Two were clearly bigger, a male and a female. He saw how the other wolves seemed to take their cues from these two. These would be the alpha male and the alpha female. The other wolves would be their children. They would follow the alphas’ lead.
He couldn’t drive the whole pack away, but maybe he could drive away the alphas. If only he had something to throw. He scanned the fir tree, looking for cones he could lob at the wolves, but it was too late in the year, too cold on the mountainside. Unfortunately, the firs here were deciduous, shedding the scales of their cones. If only he’d climbed a pine or a spruce, then he’d have something hard and sharp-edged he could toss at the wolves. Here, in the fir, he had nothing.
With a sinking sensation, Karn realized he did have something he could throw. If only he could bear it.
Reluctantly, he unlatched his satchel and dipped his hand inside. He ran his fingers over the cool pieces, feeling the texture of the marble and the whalebone. He hated the thought of parting with any of them.
He wondered which would be easier to replace, the whalebone or the marble. There were fewer marbles, just nine defenders to the sixteen attackers. But marble was heavier.
Karn sighed and lifted a marble shield maiden up to his eyes. Then he looked down at the hungry eyes of the alpha male wolf.
“I hope you appreciate my sacrifice.”
Karn put all his resentment at having to ruin his prized Thrones and Bones set into his swing. He chucked the shield maiden hard. It struck the wolf a solid blow right on the snout. It yelped and jumped back.
“I hope you know this hurts me more than it does you!” Karn yelled. He pulled out another shield maiden and drove it hard at the wolf.
This time the animal saw it coming and dodged quickly to the side. The playing piece sank straight down into a bank of snow, gone.
“Oh, for Neth’s sake!” roared Karn, who usually wasn’t given to such language. “If I’m going to toss away my prized possessions, the least you can do is have the decency to stay still.”
The next one he was more careful with. He took it out slowly, keeping it cupped and hidden in his palm. Then he pretended to ignore the wolf. He crawled out a little on the limb, trying to change his angle. Then he threw.
The hard marble made a good, solid thunk as it struck the wolf in the haunch. The animal howled now, losing its cool. Several of the younger wolves looked at it in puzzlement.
“Yeah,” said Karn. “Big, bad wolf doesn’t seem so tough now, does he?”
There was a growl below. The alpha female had stepped up to the trunk of the tree. She looked meaner than the male.
“Normally, I don’t like to fight ladies,” said Karn, “but under the circumstances, I’ll make an exception.”
His next throw caught her square on the snout.
“Yes!” He laughed, bouncing on the limb. It was too much weight this far from the trunk. It broke.
For a moment Karn was in free fall; then he caught hold of another branch. Wolves leapt at his feet, now dangling within their reach. He felt one brush his boot.
Karn scrambled up.
“Okay, won’t try that again.”
He put his back to the trunk and made sure his feet were steady across two branches. Holding on with one hand, he swung two more shield maidens in quick but precise succession.
This time both male and female ran away. Karn’s victory was short-lived. They returned immediately. But he could see he was wearing them down.
One more shield maiden each. Thunk, thunk. The wolves were whining now. And he was out of shield maidens.
Reluctantly, Karn pulled out the Jarl. It was an oversized marble piece, the prize of his collection. But there was something fitting about using the alpha male of his Thrones and Bones set to take out the alpha male of the wolves. Karn lined up the shot. No, not the alpha male. The female wolf was the tougher, meaner of the two. Wolves weren’t like people. Karn thought of Thianna, remembering the tough half-giant girl. Maybe wolves were like people. He remembered Gindri’s lesson about how his own assumptions could blind him. He aimed at the alpha female.
He put his best throw behind the Jarl. The playing piece had served him well in hundreds of games. It served him well here.
Howling, the alpha female turned and fled. Taking just a stunned second to watch her run, the alpha male bolted after her. The rest of the pack was right behind.
He’d done it. The wolves were leaving.
Karn waited a long time before he climbed back down. It was getting dark as he hung from the lowest branch and dropped, his feet crunching in the snow. He dug in the thick drifts, hoping to find his playing p
ieces, but he could only find two of the eight he had thrown, and neither was the Jarl. The Jarl was lost forever. Then he took another look at all the paw prints in the snow. His loss could have been far worse.
The Wilderness
Thianna sat leaning against the rough bark of a tree. Twilight was coming on swiftly, and she wanted to take stock of her backpack before nightfall. She pulled out a small pouch of hazelnuts and set it carefully on one leg. Next came a knife. Good—knives were essential gear. Some cooking utensils. Root vegetables. She found a whole leg of roast goat wrapped up in skins, which set her mouth watering. She’d need to ration herself; she didn’t know how long her supplies would have to last. As long as possible, obviously. There was some greasy mutton—not as welcome as the goat, but beggars couldn’t afford to be choosy. Two small pebbles that were warm to the touch and had the stamp of the Dvergrian Mountains on them. A bit of rope. A small wheel of cheese, undoubtedly from Korlundr’s Farm. Thianna had to smile at this. Eggthoda had actually managed to bring some cheese all the way home. None of Magnilmir’s cheese wheels had survived the trip back uneaten. The bottom of the pack held a tightly wrapped bedroll and an empty waterskin. And that was the sum total of her wealth.
Thianna carefully repacked all of her meager supplies, placing the bedroll on the top—she would need that soonest—and then climbed reluctantly to her feet. She hefted the pack onto her back, then plucked her skis from the snow where she had planted them. She tied them together and slung them over a shoulder.
Climbing a hill in thick powder—even her long legs sank nearly past her shins—was rough going. Halfway up the hill, she gave in to her growing hunger. One hour and a pouch of hazelnuts later, she had just about reached the summit. There, she found a small crevice below the lip of the hill where she could rest for the night.
Using a little of her precious cheese and some branches, Thianna spent a good while setting traps for small animals. Returning to the crevice, she dug into the surrounding snow and built up a hard-packed wall in front, both to trap warmth and to provide concealment. Unfolding her bedroll, she settled down for the night. After a week camped at Dragon’s Dance, it didn’t seem as rough going as it could have, though she was lonely and worried about her father and Eggthoda. Her flight had drawn the strangers after her, so hopefully they wouldn’t return to the village. She worried about what they wanted from her until she slipped from exhaustion into slumber.
Once, during the night, she awoke. Gazing up through the small opening at the night’s sky, she could see Manna’s moon and her little sister. Suddenly, a dark shape flew across Manna’s glowing expanse. A wyvern. But only one. Her pursuers must have split up to chase her. They must think that increased their chances of capturing her. They were wrong. It evened the odds.
Karn was starving, thirsty, tired, and cold. He’d been stumbling through the snow for hours, most of it in a daze. He’d seen neither wolves nor draug, but he hadn’t seen much of anything else, either. He had no food and no supplies.
His thirst, at least, he thought he could do something about. He grabbed a handful of white powder and stuck it into his mouth. It was bitter cold, so cold it was painful, but the warmth of his mouth soon melted the snow. It gave precious little water. He scooped more handfuls of snow onto his tongue, hoping to get enough meltwater to slake his thirst.
What he got was chattering teeth and a frozen tongue. Karn pulled his strike-a-light and pouch of torchwood fungus from his satchel, then used hands, numb with cold, to break enough twigs and branches for a fire. It was a struggle to light the cold wood, but he knew he would pass out soon one way or another. If he collapsed before the fire was lit, he might not wake up again.
Thianna saw the smoke from atop a hill. Nothing out here would catch fire and burn by itself. Smoke meant something man-or giant-made. She realized that it might be her pursuers, but then again, it might not be. And if they were grounded, the frost giant’s daughter was pretty sure she’d spot them first. Kicking off, she aimed her skis in the direction of the fire.
It wasn’t long before she saw the source of the smoke. A lone figure was huddled over the remains of a small fire. It looked to have gone out recently, the puff of dark smoke the last gasp as the flames gave in to the cold.
Thianna didn’t see any wyverns nearby. The figure wasn’t dressed in the strange garb of her enemies either, but wore the skins and furs of a Norrønur. Surprising that someone would be alone in the wilderness, but not as surprising as what happened next. As she watched, the figure kneeling before the fire fell over. It lay in the snow, unmoving.
Growling, Thianna skied the rest of the way down the slope. She’d come looking for help herself, not to save some crazy fool without sense enough to stay out of the Ymirian cold.
Something about this one was familiar, though. Thianna turned sharply, skidding to a halt.
She stepped out of her skis, planting them upright in the snow to keep them from sliding downhill. She approached the still form.
“Hello?” There was no answer. “Hey, are you okay?” Thianna felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Whoever it was might be beyond help.
Cautiously, she reached with her hand and poked the prone form in the back.
“Uhhhhhh,” it replied. She started, then poked again. This time the figure twitched but didn’t cry out.
“Okay,” said Thianna, “Don’t bite me or anything.” Gripping a shoulder, she rolled over whoever it was. The face that flopped into view was familiar.
“Karn?” It was the boy from Dragon’s Dance. The Thrones and Bones player who was such a stickin-the-snow when it came to anything fun.
Karn’s eyes opened.
“What are you doing here?” Thianna asked.
“Ffff—”
“What?”
“Ffff—”
“Fishing? Furriering? Falling, obviously.”
“Ffff—”
“Farting?”
“Freezing, you silly girl,” Karn suddenly spat.
“Oh,” said Thianna. “Why didn’t you say so?” She noticed his ice-blue lips and equally cold fingertips.
“Oh, Karn, you weren’t eating snow, were you?”
“I was thirsty,” he said weakly.
“Oh, you idiot. Don’t you know that drops your body temperature?”
“Freezing. Thirsty,” he managed.
“Okay, hang on.”
As Karn lay there, Thianna dug in her pack. She pulled her bedroll out and tossed it over him. Then, after a moment’s reflection, she rolled him over twice so he was wrapped up in it like a sausage in bread dough. She grabbed one of the warm pebbles next. She shook the stone to activate it, feeling a rush of heat in her hands. She dropped the stone in her waterskin, then scooped several handfuls of snow in after it. The stone was dwarf-heated Ideally, it would be used to melt snow for drinking, but she’d given it a good shake, overcharging it. The melted snow in the skin would soon be a hot-water bottle. She tucked it into the blanket against Karn’s chest. Then she set about her next task.
The hot waterskin began to revive Karn a little. He cracked an eye and stared at his rescuer. Thianna was busy piling snow and then packing it into large square bricks.
“Hey,” he said, “I’m freezing here. Don’t you think you could build your snowman later?”
She gave him a stern look.
“Does the boring southern boy want saving or not?”
“I’m not southern.”
“Does the boring southern boy who argues with his rescuer want saving or not?”
“Okay, okay,” said Karn. “I’m just asking.”
Thianna had a good number of her snow bricks now. She hauled them over one by one and began to set them in a wall around Karn, using the slope of the hill as the back wall.
“Not more snow!” Karn cried out. “I’m freezing as it is without you burying me in it.”
“I’m not burying you. I’m building us a shelter,” she said.
&n
bsp; “I’m not a frost giant. I can’t live on ice like you can.”
Thianna smiled. She liked the way Karn thought of her as a giant.
“You can,” she said. “It’s something my father learned from the Bear Folk. The walls will block the wind and once the roof is on, our body heat will warm it up nicely. Well, maybe not nicely, but near enough.”
Karn was too tired to argue. He lay still and watched in amazement as she built the structure over him. He did recall something of the Bear Folk. They lived in the wilderness across the Cold Sea. This structure was called an igloo or something similar. He rested while Thianna finished building.
Before long, they were both inside the igloo. There was barely room for them both, and not enough for the giantess to sit up. But Thianna explained that the cramped space would heat up quickly. Thianna considered Karn a moment, then she dug in her pack and pulled out something that had his dry mouth fighting to salivate.
“Is that—?”
“Goat leg. Yup. I was trying to make it last, but, well, you need to get some strength fast if you are going to make it. Let’s eat it now and worry about tomorrow’s meal when we get there.”
Karn nodded, too grateful to think beyond the immediate need of food. They split the leg. Thianna insisted on dividing it evenly even though she was clearly so much bigger than he. They both ate greedily, and when the waterskin began to cool off, they drank it down between them, careful not to swallow the precious dwarven pebble. As he filled up with food and drink and warmth, Karn found his strength returning. Thianna noticed, and she had questions.
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t want—You can’t say that. You’re alone in the middle of nowhere with no equipment and no supplies, freezing to death. You.” The way she said “you” spoke volumes about her low regard for his wilderness-survival skills.