Dob felt as if he had been working for many hours already, yet the blockage showed no sign of shrinking. Sometimes he allowed himself a break, and in those moments, he could hear Viggo’s heavy breathing or Yuf’s hoarse cursing behind the thick wall. Sometimes, muffled shouts, the clash of weapons, and the whistle of Rita’s arrows could be heard. Snow wolves were not willing to part so easily with the easy prey locked inside the tomb.

  The blizzard did not relent for even a minute. Sometimes gusts of wind burst into the small room, scattering flurries of swirling snow that settled softly on the floor and on the fur clothing of the cave’s captives. Work stopped again behind the wall. Two people at the entrance wiped the sweat from their brows and crouched down in a corner, as far away from the skeleton as possible.

  Dob wiped the sweat from his own forehead. Kairu glanced at him, wrapping himself tighter in his cloak with the Rune of Fire, a gift from the centaurs. His fingers absentmindedly felt Vergilius’s musket. For a while, silence reigned in the small room, broken only by the howling of hurricane winds beyond the stone arch. Kairu silently counted the bullets remaining in Vergilius’s pouch. Something was bothering him, though he could not quite place what, until suddenly a thought blazed in his mind, blotting out all else: he was now one step away from obtaining Octarus. Any delay infuriated him, gnawed at him, irritation scratching at his mind and swelling until it filled him completely, making him clench his fists. How much longer would it take to clear the blockage? An hour? The whole night? The next day?

  Something—he couldn’t explain what, for it lay beyond logic and rational thought—told him he had to hurry. Just a little longer, and the object of his search might once again slip from his grasp.

  He rose quietly and whispered in Dob’s ear:

  "Help them clear the passage. I’m leaving."

  "Where?" The druid flinched and looked at him with open distrust.

  "Down. We’ve done what we came to do, haven’t we? I don’t think the goblins who were hunting us simply lost our trail and left the group alone. That’s why I’m going down now to take Octarus. Got it?"

  "But there are snow wolves down there…" Dob shook his head. "Let’s go together."

  "Doesn’t matter. I’ve got a gun, and Alaskrit has never let me down. Besides, we need to draw the wolves away from our guys, because if a whole pack climbs through the windows, they won’t last long. I’ll just go down and deal with the beasts… That’s it. Good luck, and hurry with that blockage."

  Without listening to Dob’s objections, he adjusted his grip on the musket and climbed outside, turning his face to the wind.

  Everything was instantly swallowed by a howling, swirling haze. The moon’s glow barely showed through the countless swarming snowflakes that clung to his face, hands, and entire body. The icy gusts would have knocked Kairu off his feet at once if his legs hadn’t sunk knee-deep into a snowdrift. Nearly blinded, he managed with difficulty to draw his sword and roughly clear the way around himself. After orienting himself with effort, he realized that the tomb entrance was behind him, and ahead lay a steep, snow-covered descent wedged between rocky spurs.

  He slowly edged to the left, feeling with his hands for the solid, rough surface of stone, and moved along it, slowly and cautiously, sliding ever lower on the steep slope. Walking upright here was impossible: he either slid, almost lying on the snow, or crawled, groping his way through the pitch darkness, never forgetting for a second that he was at least a mile above ground level. And in the storm’s gloom, there was no telling where the slope led, or whether cliffs lay in his path.

  The slope beneath the snow was steep; his feet would simply slide until they hit a ledge or a small hump. Kairu tried with all his strength to brake, clinging to the rocks with his hands, but could barely control his movement. Then he suddenly lost his balance entirely, slid even lower, and slammed into a rock looming from the blackness, nearly smashing his face against it. He turned around, breathless, heart pounding furiously. The tomb entrance was long gone somewhere above. Around him, there was only the moving, flying night, filled with whirling snowflakes.

  He had to keep going.

  He carefully crawled sideways, now plunging into a snowdrift—it was easier that way to keep control of his body and descend without fear of sliding into an abyss. The path he had chosen now turned to the right, along a long, dark stone ridge, which became his new guide. Kairu crawled downward again.

  Somewhere above, far in the heights, through the curtain of the blizzard, one could catch the faint glow of the moon’s disk whenever a gap opened in the snow clouds. And, through the howl of the wind, which at such a mad height had grown truly ferocious, Kairu for the first time distinguished the howls of snow wolves, closer now, carrying over the vast plain that stretched at the foot of the ridge.

  But Kairu’s mind was elsewhere.

  Something very strange had happened here thirty years ago with that expedition. Who had Vergilius been fighting off, and why had he not fled when he was a single step from the exit? Why had Petros sought the time machine, and what had caused his quarrel with Saelin?..

  Why had Saelin killed Nubel two years ago in Nubelrain? He could have taken the Lake of Aktida without trouble, the house was under his control… Could it be that he simply loved killing that much? And why did Saelin accuse Petros of murdering his son?

  The howls and guttural growls were now very close, somewhere beyond the stone ridge, on a neighboring spur, perhaps on the very slope the wolves were using to approach the shrine. Kairu rounded several more rocks, emerging onto a wide, level descent where the rock masses spread far apart, revealing a vast snow-covered expanse before him. Where this path led—to the foot of the mountains, or merely to a cliff with an abyss beyond—he did not know. He crawled on, pressing himself to the even rows of rocks, feeling the deep snow give way under his weight.

  He would come to the statue alone. Perhaps Octarus would give him all the answers. He had traveled too far to simply rid himself of the time machine afterward… No, first he would unravel the whole story, from beginning to end.

  Petros had been cunning… and Konrad and Ashley were clearly hiding something still unspoken between them.

  Foot by foot of the endless descent. Kairu could not tell how long he had been crawling through the snow, helping himself with his hands and sword, sometimes sliding lower, sometimes standing up to his full height to determine his next direction. Judging by how long the travelers had zigzagged up the slope that morning, following the druid into the mountains, and how long they had wandered through the labyrinth of the tomb, he must now be very high in the mountains, and it was no wonder the slope seemed endless.

  Onward… onward… He couldn’t say he was tired or exhausted. But he was ravenously hungry and, above all, desperately sleepy. Maybe it wasn’t too late to turn back?..

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  Kairu kept crawling. Sometimes he would rise and take a few uncertain steps, keeping his balance, sometimes slide again and let out a muffled cry, covering several feet of near-vertical descent. The only reliable thing was the rock mass on his left, which gave him a sense of being close to solid ground. But he felt like a giant fly that had forgotten how to fly and now had to crawl down a wall. He kept waiting for the slope to ease into a plateau, but that never happened. The mountain seemed to be mocking him.

  How much time had passed? An hour? Two? Or more? The darkness refused to lift. Over Vaimar stretched the long, agonizing, icy January night.

  And suddenly the sheer wall softened into a gentle slope. Kairu quickly got to his feet, brushing snow from himself. The stone wall, his only reliable landmark, was now somewhere far off to the side. He was standing in the middle of a snow-covered clearing, and ahead, something dark and indistinct loomed, slowly emerging from the haze. Could it be a grove?

  Something flashed beyond the murky veil of the blizzard.

  Kairu climbed out of a deep snowdrift onto solid ground dusted with hard-packed snow, and it was as if the effect of reverse memory struck his brain, blinding his eyes. Through the snowstorm and the myriad skin-tearing icy crystals, they were approaching, the silent masters of the frozen plains. But ahead was Petista, and behind were Yuf Lainter, Viggo, and Remiz, loyal friends ready to fight alongside him...

  Kairu brushed the snowflakes from his heavy eyelids. He could already make out the yellow glow of eyes, and the vision vanished. Before him lay an icy plain, behind him the silent, shadowy mountains, and he was alone.

  The urge to sleep was crushing, but the endless questions swarming in his head gave him no rest. Kairu raised his musket, feeling it out, getting used to the stock pressed into his shoulder, to the metal barrel and trigger, to the narrow sight on which he would have to catch the gap between the phosphorescent eyes.

  Then Kairu sighed, held his breath, and fired.

  Once before, he had used such a weapon, and he remembered that after the shot would come the recoil, but he had completely forgotten the force with which the stock would smash into his shoulder, and the pain that would fill his bones. The crack of the shot was swallowed by the whistling wind, but the pair of glowing eyes he’d aimed at jerked and went dark.

  Kairu slowly moved to the side, feeling his way for the nearest rock; at last, he stumbled upon a boulder and leaned his back against it with relief. Now he didn’t have to worry about an attack from behind. The wolves followed him, sensing the movement of this new enemy who carried with him invisible leaden death. Wasting no time, Kairu shoved another bullet into the barrel, poured the powder, cocked the hammer, took aim, and fired. The bullet found its mark again.

  You have to keep moving, flickered in his mind. Without movement, you’ll freeze.

  Well then, beasts, just try to come closer, and…

  His hands, clenched around the musket, had gone numb. After his third shot, Kairu brushed snow from his face. The wolves suddenly vanished, dissolved into the mist as if they had never been there. Kairu quickly got to his feet, swung his arms to drive the blood through them, clapped his hands, anything at all to stay warm. Around him was the same quiet haze, the wind only slightly abated, but still now and then howling, making him flinch and squint.

  Kairu walked on, trying not to lose sight of the vague shapes that reminded him of trees. He had to reach them.

  He trudged forward, shoveling the fresh snow aside with weary hands, not knowing how much time had passed, and when he came to himself, the mountains were somewhere to his right, and the sky seemed a little paler—or had his eyes simply grown used to the darkness? Still, the snow swirled down from the sky. His legs buckled, and Kairu fell. Something warm was beside him. He lifted his head and saw a small beast, the size of a dog, but with a narrow muzzle, matted white fur, and yellowish fangs, recoil with a snarl.

  Raising its head and baring its teeth, the wolf growled dully, but the sound broke off at once into a rasp and a gurgle. Swinging his sword, Kairu cut the creature’s head off in one stroke, then pulled the fallen body toward him, plunging his gloved hands deep into the warm fur to warm himself. The dying predator’s heat spread slowly through his hands.

  And then in the mist, eyes flared again, and vague shapes emerged.

  "Here you go," Kairu muttered, hastily shoving the sword into its scabbard, raising the musket, and firing again, the dry crack tearing through the deep silence. A pair of glowing eyes jerked and went out, and from beyond the snow’s veil came the plaintive yelp of a wounded animal. The other wolves didn’t even think of stopping. Instinct drove them forward toward their lone prey.

  Once again, the puff of gun smoke faded into the gloom. Another point-blank shot, the loud rasp of a dying wolf. Kairu was hitting them now, aiming by the bright, near light of their eyes, they were so close. Reloading the weapon took about five seconds, an agonizingly long time. Kairu fired again, lying down in the snow and finding a comfortable position, picking the nearest target, then again, and again.

  Silhouettes began to emerge from the darkness. Even from just a few feet away, these creatures looked like ghosts, and the green glimmer of their eyes chilled the blood in his veins, his hands starting to shake at the fear of being even a split-second too late... There were too many of them. One grew so bold it leaped at Kairu, snarling sharply. Kairu managed to dodge and smash it on the head with the stock, then whipped out his sword and stabbed it as it turned to flee with a whimper. A fine ruby-dotted line remained on the snow. Kairu fired again, and suddenly, dozens of eyes went out all at once, dissolving into the mist.

  Kairu felt icy sweat trickle down his back. Where were they? Where the hell were they?! Around him was night, not the faintest source of light, only the vague hint of moonlight beyond the blizzard’s whirling veil.

  He tried to rise, but fatigue crashed down on him with a crushing weight, pinning him to the ground, and his legs refused to move. He tore off his glove with his teeth, saw his blue, bloodless fingers, and moved them in surprise, forcing the blood to flow. He tried to put the glove back on, but the wind suddenly whipped it away, and Kairu saw it darken in the snowdrifts nearby. Cursing, he crawled toward it, spitting out the snow plastering his eyes and ears, trying to reach it. But the farther he went, the farther the wind carried that scrap of wool which had so long protected his hand from total frostbite.

  How badly he wanted to sleep!

  Ahead, the vague bulk was becoming clearer, and he realized he had finally reached the grove on the mountain slope. And the wind seemed to carry faint voices, and a sinister thought flashed in his mind. Perhaps he had already frozen to death without noticing, and now he had crawled to the gates of the underworld, where he was doomed to go for all the killings he had committed over the last two years?

  He crawled on, stubbornly scooping snow with his hands and wiping his snow-blinded eyes. The Lake of Aktida warmed him under his cloak, giving him the strength he should have lost long ago during the descent.

  After all, there had been worse times. He remembered the icy waters of Ilvion, the cliffs above Derelzfjord, the shrine of Vaimos, and the dreadful cave—everything that reminded him of cold. He remembered the snow-covered field before Petista, Lake Darius. Somehow, the memories gave him strength, distracted him from the hellish frost. He remembered the heat of Nalvin’s defense, the fire of the Dragon Forge—and, bracing his hands against the snow, forced himself to stand. He stood unsteadily, arms spread for balance. But he stood, and that was an enormous achievement.

  "What, eaten me already?!" he shouted into the snowy gloom at the wolves. He could not see them, but felt in his gut they were near, waiting for the moment when their prey would falter, fall, and freeze to death.

  His legs were being buried deeper in snow, white granules settling on his entire body, and Kairu suddenly laughed, imagining a snowman standing with arms spread in the middle of the icy desert. A loose white statue, the only thing left of a man...

  He stepped forward, clutching at life, unwilling to let it go. Step by step. Endless feet separating him from the forest... His damned legs tangled again, and Kairu, with a desperate sob, fell into a snowdrift. And then he clearly heard voices, somewhere nearby, beyond the blizzard’s veil, caught the clink of iron, the beat of hooves, and the light of a torch cutting the darkness...

  The sky grew paler. Dawn was approaching. The whirling snow sank into a pale-gray haze...

  Hallucinations.

  The vision vanished, and in the place where moments before Kairu had heard human speech, there appeared snow wolves, sudden, like ghosts leaping out from the world of shadows. Dozens of glowing eyes flared at once, and the white expanse darkened with the mass of animals moving together.

  And this time they ran with purpose, ready to tear him to pieces.