by Troy Denning
Morten scowled. "Where's that?"
"The Twilight Vale lies somewhere in the shadow of the Great Glacier, far north of the Ice Spires," Basil explained. "But if you want to return Brianna to Hartsvale, I'd suggest you free her long before then."
Morten narrowed his eyes. "Why's that?"
"The Twilight Vale's sacred to the giants," Tavis explained. "We don't know why the ogres are taking Brianna there, but if they succeed it'll be impossible to get her back."
Morten considered this for a moment, then asked, "Where'd you learn all this?"
"We happened upon the guide who helped the ogres kidnap Brianna," Tavis explained. "Basil interrogated him."
The scout said nothing about the roles of Runolf and the king in the princess's abduction. As much as Morten wanted to save Brianna, Tavis did not think the bodyguard would defy Camden's wishes to do so.
Morten considered Tavis's information for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. "Good enough. I'll make your death quick," he said. "Now, will you come down here peacefully, or do I have to hunt you down?"
"I'll let you take me back to Hartsvale or kill me on the spot,"Tavis offered, "but only after we rescue Brianna."
Basil quickly stepped forward. "Please understand that he's speaking only for himself," the verbeeg said. "Avner and I have no intention of letting you kill us at any time."
"Doesn't matter," Morten replied, shaking his head. "I couldn't accept Tavis's deal, even if it included you all."
The scout frowned. "Why not?"
The bodyguard snorted in derision, then waved his hand at the carnage in the gulch. "You let me lead eighteen good men into this, and now you expect me to place my faith in you?"
"Let you!" Tavis exploded. "We tried to stop you. If you had followed the boy, you'd all be alive and well."
Morten frowned in confusion. "What boy?" he asked. "We never saw any boy!"
"You didn't see Avner at the mouth of the gulch? He dropped out of a tree and ran up the ravine!"
Morten shook his head. "We saw nothing but bodies and a blood trail leading up here. We were afraid the ogres had trapped you here. There was no boy."
His head reeling with the implications of what the bodyguard had just told him, Tavis stumbled back from the edge of the gulch. He spun around and found Avner slowly backing away. The boy's face was pale with fear, and tears of shame were welling in his eyes.
"You lied," Tavis said. His voice was not as angry as it was astonished and hurt. "You lied to me." * 8* The Glacier
The nickering returned, a series of soft, chattering snorts somewhere above the rim of the icy crevasse. Brianna's talisman, dangling from a piece of rune-inscribed bark in Tavis's hand, slowly spun in the darkness and pointed toward the sound. The tip wavered there a moment, then whirled back in the direction it had been pointing earlier. The silver spear began to sweep back and forth, never holding its position more than a second.
"Phaw! We can't trust that amulet," Morten growled, keeping his voice low. He wore a fresh bandage around his neck, for the last few days of hard travel had sapped his recuperative powers so much that the wound on his throat had begun to fester. "We know where Brianna is. Let's just go get her."
Tavis did not answer. His eyes were fixed on the heavens, searching for the source of the strange nickering. He could see only a narrow wedge of purple starlit sky, for the scout and his rescue party were climbing through a lateral crevasse, an abyssal ice canyon that ran the entire length of the Needle Peak glacier. Gleaming blue walls loomed to both sides of them, impossibly high and so close together that any of the three giant-kin present could have touched both sides by extending his arms. In the bottom of the rift, cold, dead air hung heavy around their numb faces, while the frigid torrents of a tiny melt-water stream gushed over their frozen feet.
Despite the cold, Tavis's face was flushed with excitement. At dusk, Avner had climbed a few hundred feet up Needle Peak to survey the glacier. He had seen the ogres making camp not far above, at the base of a huge ice wall. Several brutes had been erecting an ice-block hut, and the youth had seen a smaller form, almost certainly Brianna, lying in the snow nearby. After hearing the boy's report, Tavis and his companions had decided to sneak up the lateral crevasse to rescue Brianna.
It had been shortly after they started the long journey up the glacier that the nickering began. The sound was soft and plaintive, so bushed that at times Tavis thought it might be nothing but the distant groans of flowing ice-until he looked down and saw Brianna's talisman swinging toward the sound.
Tavis turned to Basil and raised the wobbling amulet. "This happens each time we hear that snorting," the scout said. Although he did not say so, he recognized the sound as that of a horse-most likely Blizzard. "Why does the talisman spin?"
"His m-m-magic's f-f-failing," chattered Earl Dobbin. He and Avner were suffering more from the freezing cold than the three giant-kin. "What do you expect from a ch-charlatan?"
The scout ignored the comment and waited for Basil's reply. If it had been up to Tavis, the lord mayor would have returned to Hartsvale with the other earls who survived the ogre ambush, but Morten wouldn't hear of it. The burly firbolg did not trust Tavis or his companions and had agreed to work with them only if Dobbin came along to balance the odds. Even when Basil had pointed out that Dobbin's peers were all suffering from injuries and could use a healthy man's assistance on the journey back, Morten had insisted that the lord mayor come along.
Casting an angry glare at Dobbin, Basil said, "I assure you, I am no charlatan. The talisman is wavering for good reason."
A terrible thought occurred to Tavis. "Has Goboka vexed your rune?" the scout asked. Given that the shaman's warriors had failed to return from their ambush, the ogre would be a fool not to assume his pursuers would try for Brianna tonight. "Can he do that sort of thing?"
"A powerful shaman like him? Of course he can," Basil replied. The verbeeg paused, then smiled proudly. "That's why I didn't use a rune that would lead us to Brianna herself. I employed one that's designed to locate lost property. I doubt Goboka has thought of that."
"What nonsense are you babbling?" demanded Morten.
"Simply put, the talisman isn't pointing at Brianna," the verbeeg explained. "It's pointing at her belongings- in this case, her clothes and, I believe, at her horse." He cast his eyes toward the crevasse rim, where the soft nickering continued.
"That's ridiculous!" Earl Dobbin scoffed. "No horse could follow over the t-terrain we've c-crossed!"
"Lord Mayor, I'd think you, of all people, would know better than to underestimate Blizzard." Tavis could not quite keep from sneering as he made the observation.
"I do," the earl replied. "But Blizzard is a horse, not a mountain goat. Even she could not have-"
An alarmed whinny sounded from above, interrupting the lord mayor. Tavis looked up in time to see the black shadow of a horse leaping across the crevasse, then something clattered off the ice overhead. As the silhouette vanished from the night sky, a slender shaft of wood tumbled down the canyon walls and splashed into the icy stream. Morten grabbed the stick as it floated past.
"Ogre arrow," grunted the bodyguard.
Tavis fixed his gaze on the rim where Blizzard had been. "But no ogre," he observed, noting that there were no gleaming eyes peering over the edge. "You'd think the warrior would be curious about why Blizzard was lingering by the crevasse."
"Unless he already knew," suggested Basil.
Tavis looked down at Brianna's amulet. The silver spear had stopped wavering, its tip pointing considerably away from the route ahead. Given that they had traveled less than halfway up the icy canyon, the angle seemed much too great They still had at least a mile to go, so if the ice shelter had been built anywhere near the crevasse, the talisman should have been pointing almost straight up the gorge-at least if Brianna was inside the structure.
"You're suggesting Goboka's ice hut is meant for us?"
Basil nodded.
; "For us?" asked Morten. "What for?"
"To l-lure us into his t-trap, you oaf," said Earl Dobbin. "We should t-turn back for t-tonight. We can warm ourselves by a nice f-fire and try again in the morning."
"Our chance will be gone by then," said Tavis. "Besides, if I'm right, we may be able to turn the ogres' plan against them."
"And if you're wrong?" demanded the lord mayor.
Tavis shrugged. "We'll know soon enough."
The scout resumed the journey, sloshing up the tiny stream in the bottom of the crevasse. So frigid was the brook that only its swift current prevented the water from turning solid. A thick layer of slush rolled along its icy bed, making the footing so treacherous that Tavis bad to hold on to the canyon walls to keep from falling. Nor was the going any easier where the rivulet slowed, for the eddies and pools were covered by thin blankets of ice that shattered beneath the giant-kin's great weight, and he often found himself standing up to his thighs in water so cold it made his bones ache.
Morten and Basil suffered the same discomforts as Tavis, but, for the two humans, wading up the icy stream was an even greater challenge. They stumbled about as if they had lost all feeling in their legs, and more than once Morten or Basil had to catch one of them before he pitched headlong into the frigid waters. That Earl Dobbin continued to wear his breastplate and helmet did not help matters, for the steel was covered with a thick coating of hoarfrost that added to the armor's burdensome weight.
Despite their difficulties, they made steady progress. Tavis paused every now and then to look up and see if they were being watched, but he saw no eyes-ogre or equine. The angle between the crevasse's route and the tip of Brianna's talisman steadily increased. By the time they had ascended the glacier far enough to see the dark silhouette of the ice wall looming above the rim, the silver spear pointed almost directly at the side of the canyon.
Tavis stopped and gathered the others close. "Avner, where would you say that ice hut is in relation to us?"
Despite Avner's obvious discomfort, the mere fact that the scout had condescended to ask him a question caused the boy's eyes to light. It was only the third time Tavis had spoken to him since learning how the youth had abandoned Morten and the earls to the ogre ambush.
"It'd be about th-there," Avner said. He pointed almost directly up the crevasse. "They were b-building it right on the edge, at the b-b-b-bottom of the ice wall."
Avner's arm and Brianna's talisman were pointing in completely different directions. "Goboka's keeping Brianna someplace else," Tavis said. "He built the ice hut to lure us up this crevasse."
"Isn't that wh-what I said?" demanded Earl Dobbin. "You sh-should have t-turned back when I suggested it!"
Tavis shook his head. "The trap was already sprung." he said. "By then, a pack of ogres was in the crevasse, coming up after us."
The earl's eyes widened in alarm. "And you said nothing?" he yelled. "You're in this with the ogres!"
"Keep your voice down," ordered Morten. The bodyguard placed his tremendous bulk in front of the earl and eyed Tavis. "You said you have a plan. What is it?"
"How much time have you spent under glaciers?"
Morten frowned, as did everyone else. "I try to keep my head above the snow," the bodyguard grunted. "Why?"
"Because if Goboka's using the ice hut as a decoy, he needs someplace else to hide Brianna," the scout explained. "And I have an idea where to look."
Before Morten could ask more questions, Tavis continued upstream, stopping about two hundred sloshing paces later. It was here that the meltwater stream flowed into the crevasse, trickling out of an ice cave near the bottom of the rift. A chill breeze seeped from the mouth of the grotto, gnawing at Tavis's soaked legs with its stinging breath.
Noting that the tip of Brianna's talisman was pointing directly into the cavern, Tavis stooped over to peer inside. The passage was about five feet in diameter, as smooth as glass and about half filled with the swift, silent currents of the meltwater stream. The first few paces of the cave gleamed with the same cool radiance as the canyon walls. But as the grotto snaked its way toward the glacier's heart, the blue light gave way to an inky gloom more chilling than death.
"We'll need to light a torch," Tavis said.
"I've got something better," offered Basil. The verbeeg reached into his satchel and withdrew a small poplar stick carved with a single rune. A brilliant yellow radiance shined from the tip of the wand, filling the bottom of the crevasse with a flickering light of gold. "It won't go out, even if it's soaked."
Fearing the bright light would let the ogres know their position. Tavis grabbed the wand and stuck it under his cloak.
"I'm not g-going in there," objected Earl Dobbin.
"Then stay here and fight the ogres," growled Morten. The bodyguard's gaze was fixed on Brianna's talisman, which continued to point unerringly into the ice cave. "I'll follow Tavis in there-after he answers a couple of questions."
Tavis nodded. "If you wish."
"First, how'd you know we'd find a cavern here?" Morten narrowed his eyes, still distrustful of the scout.
"Have you been here before?"
"No," Tavis replied. "But crevasses don't usually have streams."
"Then where'd all this come from?" the bodyguard demanded, kicking at the icy meltwater.
"Do you know what a nunatak is?" the scout asked.
Morten shook his head, but Basil had a ready answer. "It's a projection of rock protruding above the glacier surface," the verbeeg said. "It gathers heat from the sun, which tends to melt the surrounding ice and create a hollow area around the stone."
"Right," Tavis said. "And what happens to all that water?"
"It flows away," Morten growled. "What else?"
"Right again, but it doesn't run over the top of the glacier," Tavis explained. "It's already below the surface when it melts, so it seeps down and melts a path under the ice. So when I saw a stream in the bottom of this crevasse, I knew there had to be an ice cave somewhere up here. Next question?"
The bodyguard did not hesitate before replying. "You said earlier you knew where to look for Brianna. Tell me."
"If you want." the scout said. "I think Goboka's keeping her in a nunatak hollow-perhaps even one that feeds this stream."
Morten raised his brow. "How can you know that?"
"Because she'll freeze if he leaves her in the open," Tavis replied. "And it would be more difficult to lure us into an ambush if we saw his warriors building a second ice hut or digging a snow cave. The hollow of a large nunatak offers the best natural shelter."
"It s-seems to me a small c-crevasse would do as well." said Earl Dobbin. "I've been on enough glaciers to know there are plenty of those."
Tavis shook his head. "After the trouble he took to kidnap her, the shaman won't risk Brianna's life on something so unpredictable," the scout said. "Even crevasses that have stayed open for decades can close in an instant."
The earl cast a nervous glance at the icy walls of their own crevasse, but no one else showed any concern about the risk that their own rift would close.
"Besides, a nunatak hollow should be warmer than a crevasse," Basil added. "At night, the stone will release much of the heat it absorbs from the sun during the day."
"And you think you can find the right nunatak by going into this ice cave?" Morten addressed his question to Tavis.
The scout gestured to Brianna's talisman, which continued to point into the cavern. "What do you think?"
Morten nodded, then checked to be sure the rope and other gear hanging from his belt were secure. "I suppose it's our best chance," he said. "But if something happens-"
"We'll all die together," Tavis replied. "And all your threats won't save any of us."
The scout slipped Brianna's amulet into his cloak pocket, then crawled into the low cavern on his hands and knees. As impossible as it seemed, the meltwater inside the grotto felt even colder than that in the crevasse outside-perhaps because now both his arms and l
egs were submerged up to the elbows and thighs. The gentle breeze made matters worse, for its breath was as frigid as a frost giant's, cutting through Tavis's damp cloak like daggers of ice.
When the tunnel began to grow so dark he could no longer see, the scout pulled one hand from the frigid currents and drew Basil's light-wand from inside his cloak. He placed the stick between his teeth, then paused long enough to look back. Earl Dobbin had apparently forgotten his earlier refusal to enter the cavern, for he was close behind Avner, who was following directly behind Tavis. The youth was short enough to stand upright in the small cavern, but the lord mayor had to stoop over to keep from scraping his ice-covered helmet on the ceiling.
The lips of both humans were trembling, and the scout knew they could not long withstand the freezing conditions of the meltwater grotto. Unfortunately, there was little he could do to help, except hurry upstream and hope Brianna could save them with a clerical spell after she was rescued. The only way Tavis could help would be to start a fire, and even if that were possible, the smell of smoke would draw the ogres to them in short order.
They continued upstream for many long, bitter minutes. Occasionally the water rose as high as the shoulders of the giant-kin, forcing them to crane their necks to keep their chins above water. The two humans were not strong enough to battle the cold currents alone, so they grabbed Tavis's belt and allowed him to pull them forward. Then, when the brook grew shallow again, they pried their frozen fingers open and waded forward under their own power, the icy breeze cutting through their wet clothing like the claws of a life-stealing wraith. Soon, the draft had stolen so much heat from Earl Dobbin's body that he lost control of his muscles, pitching headfirst into the dark waters. He would have drowned had Morten not been close by to pull him out.
Seeing that Avner's eyes had glazed over and his lips were the color of sapphires, Tavis realized the boy was also perilously close to collapse. The scout loosened his cloak, then instructed the youth to crawl under it to ride on his back. The firbolg doubted his body heat would restore the youth, but at least it might prevent him from collapsing until after they rescued Brianna.