Still shivering, Hweilan stood.
Cold, said a voice. The same one that had spoken to her on the cliffside. But this is a lifeless place now. I am gone. Empty dens, dead hearts… cold.
"Who are you?" said Hweilan. "What is this place?"
Hweilan heard a light splashing behind her and turned. A pool took up the back half of the cavern, its water almost black in the dim light. Emerging from the pool was a tall figure, moving with a bestial grace, all willful intent commanding smooth movement. Not a wasted motion, as if the body were more raiment than flesh.
A woman's body, but Hweilan could not put the word woman to this figure. She was far too… other. Her frame was thin, but there was no hint of weakness or want in her limbs. Hweilan could not discern the exact color of her skin, for a slick wetness covered the woman from forehead to toes. The wetness was too thick and dark for water; the figure before her was covered with blood.
Although she was wet in it from head to toe, the woman's hair was stainless, woven into scores of tight braids that hung to her waist. Amid the locks were smooth stones, bits of bone, feathers, and dozens upon dozens of tiny flowers. Even through the strong, metallic scent of the blood, Hweilan could smell the flowers, almost as if they were newly bloomed and still growing.
The figure stopped upon the shore and looked down on Hweilan. Her Uncle Soran had been the tallest man she'd ever known, but even he would have looked up to this woman's chin.
Hweilan swallowed and said, "Wh-who are you?"
The woman cocked her head, almost birdlike. Her lips did not move, but Hweilan heard the words, My name holds no more power in your world. For generations I guarded and guided your people like a mother to her cubs. But the cubs have gone home. All but two. And you do not need a mother. Time to grow up, Hweilan inle Merah. Time to hunt.
"I… I don't understand."
You do not need understanding. You need to choose. Understanding will come later… if you survive.
"Hweilan!"
She jumped, and her eyes snapped open. How long-?
"Hweilan!"
It was Lendri. Whispering, but most definitely Lendri. And close.
"H-h-here!" she called out, and was surprised at the weak rasp of her voice.
She sensed movement outside her shelter, but she didn't have the strength to look up. Strong hands helped her out.
"You're freezing," Lendri said.
"It's… not s-so bad… nuh-n-n-ow."
Lendri muttered something in his own language, then said, "Do your hands and feet hurt?"
She shook her head again, and managed, "H-haven't… f-felt 'em, f-f-for a w-while."
Lendri rummaged through the one pouch on his belt. "I have something," he said. "Not a permanent solution, but we can't risk fire just yet. This will help."
He held out a small, dark something to her.
"Kanishta," said Lendri. "A root that has been… treated. It will give you some strength back and keep you warm. For a while." Gently, he opened her mouth and shoved the root between her cheek and teeth. "Chew."
At first, she could barely open her mouth wide enough to wedge the root between her teeth. But whatever the root was, the tissue in her mouth responded to it almost immediately, flooding her cheek with fresh spit. The taste of the root hit then, and she almost gagged, but one swallow and a tingling warmth spread from her mouth and throat to her head. She managed to chew, coaxing more juice out of the root. It was beyond bitter, but with each swallow, she felt warm, and vigor began to work its way back into her limbs.
"Better?" Lendri asked.
"Much," she said. "Tastes like garden soil, but it's… warm. Oh, that's magical."
"Only somewhat. Are you hurt?"
"Scrapes and bruises," she said.
Now that she could feel her limbs again-and feel something besides cold-her mind seized on…
"The Nar, the tigers, are they…?"
"I killed two Nar," said Lendri. "And Hechin scattered their horses. But they are still out there. Can you walk?"
"If they're still out there, I can run."
Lendri let out a short bark of a laugh, then said, "Besthunit nenle will do."
"What?"
"A proverb," he said. "Hurry up slowly.' We need to move fast, but not so fast that we announce our presence to anyone within a half mile." He took their packs from her and fit them on his back. "Now let's move."
He turned and headed off into the dark.
Hweilan followed. "But, Lendri… oh, gods, what was… that… that thing? It looked like my uncle. My uncle! But it wasn't. I swear it wasn't. It-"
He didn't turn or slow. "I know."
"What was it?" she whispered.
"I do not know. But I could feel its…"
"Wrongness."
"Yes." Lendri stopped on the trail and turned to her.
"Like the taste of meat gone bad," she said. "Yet somehow still…"
"Yes. I know. It's-"
"And those… those other… th-things?" She was having a hard time catching her breath. She could hear herself beginning to babble, but she couldn't stop. "I–I-I s-saw them! Like children! But one of them was riding a tundra tiger. Riding! No one rides tundra tigers. And the ravens… when Kadrigul was after me."
"Kadrigul?" said Lendri. "The Siksin Nene?"
"Siksin what?"
"The pale one. Frost Folk your people name them. This Kadrigul…?"
"Yes, that's him," said Hweilan. "You saw. Didn't you see? Ravens… hit him. Dozens of them. Hundreds maybe. That was… you?"
"No," said Lendri. He had gone very still, save for his head, which he turned this way and that as if listening. She could hear him sniffing the air. His voice dropped to a whisper. "That was… I don't know what that was."
"What is it?" she whispered.
"Shirt!" Lendri stepped forward-more of a pounce really-and grabbed her arm in a painful grip. She looked down. Too dark to see clearly, but she could see that his glove and much of his sleeve was smeared with something dark. The scent hit her. Blood. He still had the blood of dead men on his hands.
"Lendri?"
He drew an arrow from his quiver and placed it on the string of his bow. "Run!"
He pulled the arrow to his cheek, and in that instant the moon peeked out from a rent in the clouds. In the new light, Hweilan saw that Lendri had nocked a fowling arrow-no arrowhead, just a hardened tip of wood, meant to stun birds without spoiling the meat.
"What are you-?"
"Run, girl!"
A bone-shaking roar came out of the woods behind them, followed by another off to the side.
"Run!"
She ran. Behind her, she heard the twang of Lendri's bow, followed by a sharp cry, then the sounds of Lendri following.
The woods around them erupted in a riot of sound-many shapes blundering through the brush, high-pitched cries, and above her on the left, the roar of a tiger. The sound washed over her, a physical force, and for three steps her knees weakened, threatening to buckle beneath her.
Lendri grabbed her above the elbow, pulled her back up, and dragged her behind him. A huge shape hit the ground several paces in front of them, stirring up a cloud of snow and spraying branches everywhere. Though she couldn't see it clearly through the snow, she knew it was a tiger.
Lendri pulled her to the right, but too quickly. Her feet tangled over an exposed root or branch, and she went down, breaking Lendri's grip. She scrambled to her feet. Several feet away, Lendri was standing still again, one hand reaching over his shoulder, fingering the nock of another arrow in his quiver.
In front of them crouched two tigers.
And one of them bore a rider. A small rider, to be sure, child-sized, but the long spear it held looked lethal. In the dim light, the rider's eyes gave off a pale luminescence.