The mountain pool was frozen over, the falls stilled. In summer, the roar of the waterfall could be heard from miles around. The small lake (small enough that it scarcely deserved to be called that) would be crowded with fishing boats. Now there was only the crack of the trees, the whistle of the wind, and the crunch of snow beneath their feet.

  Shevi wondered how many would be left to fish that summer, even if they killed Sergrud and drove the Vulgares out.

  The eight of them crested the final ridge, overlooking the village of Frostwood. Seeing the village from above gave a different view from being imprisoned. When Sergrud had dragged Shevi to one of the stolen huts and locked her inside, all Shevi caught were glimpses. Now, she could see the whole picture. Half the homes burned, the other half surrounded by tent clusters, divided into clear tribes. A village murdered, the body divided up as spoils for the conquerors.

  Only when Logash put a hand on Shevi’s shoulder did she realize she was growling. She shook her head and calmed herself. Not the time for anger. Anger could wait until her spear had a target. The commander nodded and moved forward to the overlook.

  Katrin moved up beside him. Vili, her shadow spirit, flew out in a form resembling a crow, flitting into the treetops where shadows hid her wispy form.

  The maledictus closed her eyes and waited as Vili scoured the village. Which left long moments of silence.

  Thankfully, the seriousness of the situation seemed to have stilled even Sunshine’s tongue. No chatter. Only terse observations.

  “Three groups,” Aven noted. “Neatly divided into the three clans you mentioned, Shevi.”

  “The...when they fought us, their army was split into humans, canin, and ogres,” Wally whispered.

  “Held together by Sergrud,” Ouron said. “If he dies, nothing to hold the clans together.”

  “And the prisoners and defectors from Hellfrost?” Aven asked.

  Traitors, Shevi thought more succinctly.

  “I can’t tell from here,” Wally’s ears went flat and his eyes narrowed, darting among the multitude of fires. “I think...there’s not that many in the village. Maybe...most are out hunting?”

  That stood to reason. There were hundreds in the village still, even after battle had thinned their numbers. Frostwood couldn’t possibly have enough food stored to meet the Vulgares’ needs. Even hunting with this many...by now, they must have stripped the local lands bare. Maybe that was why the Vulgares’ attacks had been so sporadic.

  “Watchguards are on the east and south edges,” Katrin murmured, eyes still closed while seeing through the shadow spirit’s eyes. But it didn’t have eyes. Shevi shoved mechanical questions aside. “Four on each edge. Vili has seen two of them asleep.”

  Discipline wasn’t these barbarians’ strong suit, then.

  “More guards outside the longhouse,” Katrin continued. “And two more posted around one of the huts.”

  “Check the hut,” Aven said quickly. “that could be where they’re keeping-”

  “Esharah,” Katrin said. “Yes, I know. Vili is already checking.” A pause. “She’s there. Tied up.”

  “Can you get her attention?”

  “Vili does not have a mind that a vis like her could communicate with,” Katrin said. “Nor language she could understand.”

  Aven paused, brow furrowing. Then he snapped, “What about this...”

  * * *

  Esharah awoke to a sharp poke in her thigh. She jerked awake from fitful sleep, ready to face fresh torment at the Vulgares’ hands.

  She found herself staring at an eighteen-inch high representation of Aven, made entirely out of shadow.

  “Vili?” Esharah gasped, eyes widening.

  The shadow Aven looked at her for a long moment, then gave an exaggerated nod with its whole upper body.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Esharah stretched out her mind. No sign of Aven. Or Katrin, or any others. Must be too far away to sense. But that didn’t mean they were safe; Meniskhana seemed to have range greater than Esharah’s own Mindspeaker domain.

  Seeking Mensikhana’s mind found only the thick fog that had lain over Esharah’s senses. That was the newest strategy the ogress tried, not blocking Esharah directly but instead just creating a sort of general cloud of psychic smoke around her senses at all times. Making it harder for Esharah to do anything, but not directly fighting her. In this case, it meant that Mensikhana couldn’t sense what Esharah was doing.

  Vili in Aven’s form put on a thoroughly incomprehensible pantomime performance. Exaggerated walking movements. Pointing at Esharah. Pointing outside the tent. Was that...stabbing motions?

  “You came here...to stab me?” Esharah asked in bewilderment. That was obviously not intended. But it may very well be the result, she thought.

  Head shook. Pointed again. Pointed more forcefully.

  * * *

  “We came here,” Aven pointed, looking into Katrin’s pained face. Gods, was the performance really that terrible? “To save you!” How on earth to pantomime saving? Untying ropes? He tried that. “To save you! The ropes! Untie!”

  * * *

  “To strangle?” Esharah asked, more bewildered than ever at what the motions were trying to communicate.

  The shadow spirit threw up its hands. Aven’s form collapsed, the spirit taking its usual doll-like form.

  “Tyhmassi daka!” the spirit’s voice cursed. Even not understanding the language at all, Esharah could immediately hear the curse in its tone.

  It flitted up and around behind Esharah, tugging on the ropes. Then, back in front, gesturing outside the tent.

  The spirit pointed to Esharah’s wrists, then the door, and then made a slashing motion with its arm. That seemed clear enough.

  “You’re here to rescue me,” Esharah said. That much she’d assumed from seeing Vili here. “How?”

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  Vili paused, spinning in place for a long while. Then it held one arm out and put the other to its mouth. Or where its mouth would have been if it had one.

  Wait and be quiet. As if Esharah could do anything else at all. The spirit flew out, and Esharah was alone again. Well, looked like captivity was coming to an end, one way or another. And if Aven was here, the one way seemed likely to be six feet downward.

  * * *

  “So she knows we’re here to rescue her,” Aven said. “Good.”

  Seven other pairs of eyes were looking at him incredulously. Sunshine was barely even making an effort to hide laughter. Aven very pointedly didn’t make eye contact with Logash. Couldn’t bear pity right now; derision was much more comforting.

  “You never have the right to mock my words again,” Janaya said.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Aven at last mustered the courage to face everyone. “Now, how do we get her out? I’m open to suggestions.”

  * * *

  Sunshine came bearing gifts. It was a bit early for the Solstice and the new moon festival of Joy, hence why he’d been hanging on to the gifts he’d already brought to Hellfrost. Some gifts, however, needed to be given earlier. Like the poor, thirsty Vulgares guard shivering alone on such a cold night.

  “Whew! It’s a nipper out here!” Sunshine said, walking right up to the guard. “Looks like you could use a hot drink.”

  The canin turned to stare at him. No doubt searching to place him. That was a problem, wasn’t it? Sunshine had a quite memorable face. The kind that any would recognize as a stranger’s, because they would surely remember if they’d met before. Yet what was a stranger if not a long-awaited friend?

  Years of practice had taught Sunshine, however, that alcohol made for a fine introduction, especially on a cold winter’s night.

  “Aye, I could use a drink,” the canin snatched the flask that Sunshine offered and took a swig of the spiced wine. That was worth bringing all this way. The canin nodded appreciatively, then gave Sunshine a strange look, “Who are you with? Not Hravast.”

  “Hravast?” Sunshine laughed, clapping a hand over his heart. “Sir, I am Frostwood born and raised!”

  “Ah,” the canin sneered and took another swig of the wine, “Good. At least some of you shagrits know how to treat your conquerors.”

  The bane of all conquerors: thinking that those conquered were too insignificant to pay attention to. Too weak to be memorable. Boots forgot the ants they crushed, but the ants remembered. Or something to that effect. A line to work on later.

  “Indeed!” Sunshine grinned and bowed. “It is an honor to be of service. Now, could I interest you in a song-”

  “Piss off,” the canin shoved him back with one arm.

  Sunshine took the impact and flopped back. Bullies always loved a good flop. A whoop would have sold it further, but alas, ‘twas not the time for whooping. Some performances demanded more subtlety. Would not do to have an audience of more than one for the moment. Nay, this performance was dedicated to one alone.

  He chuckled good-naturedly, “I’ll leave you for the night then, good sir. Pray, could I have my flask back? I’m sure the other guards are thirsty too-”

  The canin looked Sunshine dead in the eye and drank down every drop of the flask before throwing it right in Sunshine’s face with a smirk.

  “Ah,” Sunshine turned over the flask. Not a drop remained. “Thank you for your generosity, sir. A word of warning, though: too much drink at once can cause choking. Best be careful, or you might find your life cut tragically short!”

  The guard’s mouth opened. No sound came out. A clawed hand rushed to a swelling throat. The guard’s mouth snapped closed and the canin’s eyes widened in shock and terror as the poison took effect. Pity that; a smaller dose would only have put him to sleep for a wee nap. Wages of gluttony and disrespect. The canin fell to his knees, and Sunshine crouched, catching the guard before he fell. The red-haired bard gave a small sigh and patted the canin’s chest. Such a tragedy, a young warrior’s life cut so short. Who knew what his story might have been?

  Probably a slightly-less early death in much more bloody fashion.

  Ah, well. One down, three to go.

  * * *

  Maledictus thrived in shadows. Katrin had lived in shadows for years before ever seeing the sun’s true light. With Vili’s aid, she could move in those shadows at will. She was the darkness, and the darkness moved with her. Through the darkness she went. To the next guard. She stepped over the body of the last that she and Vili had slain. Canin, as most seemed to be. Canin made for good watchguards. Better eyes in the night than humans or ogres. Better noses too.

  If these canin had Wally’s senses, they’d have spotted intruders easily. She’d practiced sneaking up on Wally. Terrified, the poor boy nearly jumped out of his skin the first time. Now, he caught her every time. These guards weren’t Wally, though.

  “Carefully, sister,” Vili whispered, voice like a fluttering moth’s wings in her ear. “Betrayer Gretchen could see us.”

  Panic stabbed through her. Katrin stuffed it down. Gretchen was an enemy now. She had made her choice. And she would have to live with the consequences of it. If she had to kill Gretchen...she would.

  The guard ahead wasn’t moving. Katrin crouched down and crawled forward, Vili flitting ahead in raven guide to perch in the tree above the guard’s head.

  “He sleeps,” Vili reported.

  Katrin reached out, Flow opening to send a thrumming call into the night, inaudible to those without spirit sense. The spirits of the land answered, spirits of frost and darkness. None with Vili’s intelligence, only faint, lingering instinct. Instinct was all she needed. Her call summoned them. Vis wove the flow into strands of gossamer light that joined to the spirits like puppets’ strings. She felt the spirits’ impulses, their primitive feelings. Hunger for vis. Anger at the creatures that disturbed their home. The Vulgares ravaged the land, their vis taking from the natural world far more than the village usually did. A breaking of the balance.

  “I offer you warmth and life. Will you bind yourself to my will?” Katrin asked.

  The spirits pulsed affirmation, and the temporary contract was sealed.

  “Strike,” Katrin commanded, joining the command to the spirits’ malice.

  Vili swooped down as the spirits flew. Katrin’s vis gave the spirits physical form, sprouting into blades of black ice. A hood of shadow wrapped around the guard’s head, smothering his cries as a half dozen frost spirits slammed into his body like icicle spears.

  Katrin waited until the thrashing stilled, then strode over to confirm. Another dead.

  “Your work is done,” Katrin released the contract. A single deed completed the simple binding. Anything more was cruelty to the spirits. She raised her knife to her upper arm, where she’d learned to cut to draw blood without disabling herself. “You may feed.”

  The spirits pulsed gratitude as they suckled on Katrin’s blood and Flow. She let the vis seep outwards for a moment before cutting the strings, letting the spirits fly off into the night with their prize of vis. Vili returned to her side as a shadow crow, landing on her shoulder before sliding down to bind the cut on her arm, staunching the blood.

  “Three deaths,” Vili whispered. “Will Cousin Aven be pleased?”

  “One more,” Katrin said.

  One more to die tonight. If they were lucky, it would be the last.

  * * *

  Aven waited in the darkness for the signal, Logash at his side like a still mountain. Wally at his back. The ogre’s breathing was like a wind of the high mountain peaks, steady, strong. The boy’s breath came fast. Excited. Afraid. Aven didn’t feel fear, only focus. For the moment, the Battle Mind split aside the parts that wondered, the parts that feared. Those could wait. Action came now.

  Or, more precisely, action came when Vili brought the signal.

  “She’s coming,” Wally whispered, thankfully giving Aven warning before the shadow spirit dove down to his shoulder.

  “Men, seku,” the spirit whispered.

  Whatever the exact meaning, the signal spurred Aven into action. Vili led the way, and Aven left both Logash and Wally behind. He needed to reach Esharah as fast as possible.

  The village was eerily silent. No reason for anyone to be out this late at night save for the watchguards. No one else to be seen as Aven ran across the cleared area between the treeline and Frostwood. Dark clouds covered the moon, leaving the night dark. Aven’s eyes forged from the void could see shapes in the dark as well as in light, but colors seemed strangely muted.

  Esharah’s hut-prison stood apart from the others. In the daylight, there had been two guards outside it. Now, there were none. Whether lack of discipline had driven the guards indoors on a cold night or simple carelessness, it didn’t matter.

  The door was locked. For all the good it did. A simple latch lock, easy to shape void through the crack to pull the latch open. The door creaked open, but a glance around found no one around.

  Aven ducked into the hut and froze.

  Esharah was tied to a post in the back of the hut. Her eyes widened at the sight of Aven. Teja was at her side, knife at her throat.

  “Finally here, voidtouched,” the felin purred. “I was wondering how long it would take you.”

  Esharah’s voice reached Aven’s mind as if coming from behind a thick cloud, “I’m...sorry...tried to warn...”

  The ogress Mindspeaker rose from a seat on the opposite side of the hut.

  Aven stiffened, voidhand ready to shape into a spear.

  “Come in,” the mindspeaker’s voice echoed in Aven’s head. “Esharah says that we should talk.”

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

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