Plague of Ice

2

"Another spellcaster?" asked Regdar, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you a priestess, milady?"

"No, not a priestess," she said with a slight laugh. "I'm a druid, but I can heal that gash in your leg, if you wish."

"A druid?" asked Lidda. "You don't look like any druid I've met." Most of them wore only green or brown, Lidda reflected, while Sonja looked as if she had been born in the snow.

"And you'll never find another like Sonja," Hennet said, running a hand over her back. "Her home is the northern tundra. Nightfall's coming. Let's make camp. We can explain more once we have some shelter."

"I trust you're the party from Atupal," said Regdar.

"Hired and dispatched by Atupal, yes," Hennet explained, "but not from Atupal. We were just there when this strange affair started. If that's what you're worried about, we have no particular stake in Atupal's relations with Klionne."

"Nor do we," said Lidda. "Klionne hired us to investigate this phenomenon, too. Don't get me wrong, we care about the people of Klionne. Just not…"

"Just not its petty squabbles with its neighbor," finished Hennet. He looked down at Teron's corpse. "He didn't care about those things, either. He begged us to let him come along. I think he hoped we'd adopt him or some such thing and invite him to go adventuring with us after this. So much for adventures." He turned to Sonja. "I suppose we'll have to pick up his body on the way back. The cold should keep it preserved well enough, if the wolves don't find it."

"I'm Regdar," the fighter interrupted, "and this is Lidda. This bridge was unstable before, and it's only gotten worse because of the fight. If we're careful, it may hold together."

They crossed the bridge one at a time. Hennet went first, poking each orc body with his spear to be sure it was dead before pushing it off the bridge with his foot. Reassembled on the far side, they finished their introductions.

"I hope we can trust your dedication to this mission," Sonja declared to Regdar and Lidda.

Lidda instantly gritted her teeth, bracing for Regdar's heated comeback. Instead, she was shocked to hear him say, "Of course." Instead of being insulted, Regdar smiled at the woman and looked every inch the fool.

"We're here to safeguard the lives of the people of Klionne and Atupal and all those beyond this region who may be affected by this phenomenon."

"The people should be protected, yes," the druid said, "but the damage is done already." She spread her arm to indicate the vast expanse of white surrounding them. "Human lives may be protected from the cold, but what of this? Animals, plants, the land itself, all these natural cycles have been hideously disrupted. This is not supposed to be. Some magic has made it this way, and it is my duty to undo it, or at least to minimize the damage. The cycle of nature is broken here, and it must be restored."

Regdar frowned slightly, but Lidda shook her head. If this Sonja was like most of the druids shed met, Lidda suspected that humanity was a distant second concern for her. Druids worried about nature first. But, Lidda supposed, the woman's motivation didn't really matter if she was willing to help them.

"I had to persuade the mayor of Atupal to let Sonja come on this mission," Hennet said. "The people there aren't all as friendly as Teron was. Half of them wanted to lock her up out of suspicion that she was responsible for this."

"I don't suppose you can control the weather?" Lidda asked this new companion.

"I'm afraid not," Sonja replied, "but I do know some spells that might make the cold a little easier to endure for you and the others."

Regdar smiled at her like a puppy.

"Uh, Regdar," said Hennet uncertainly, "why don't we compare maps and see what we can figure out about this region." He unfolded a parchment from his pocket. "The one they gave me in Atupal is pretty bare, and I feel lucky to have it. They weren't especially gracious or generous, considering we're going out to their rescue. Aside from some trinkets and the vague promise of riches on our return, all they gave us was this map, an old wand, and a magic ring for Sonja."

Hennet slid a wooden wand from his furs. It was about the length of a short sword-too long to carry in a pocket but easily thrust through a belt without being much of a hindrance. At first glance it looked like an ordinary piece of wood, but its gnarled tip resembled a flicker of flame that was so startlingly realistic it couldn't be a simple carving. It identified this device as a wand of fire or fireballs. Such a weapon could be very deadly, if used with care. From the way Hennet handled it, Lidda could see that he regarded the wand with a mix of awe and casual confidence.

"I doubt my map is much better than yours," Regdar said. When he unfolded it next to Hennet's, everyone could see that both were equally barren of detail. Hennet wondered aloud, "How can these people live so close to this place but never visit it long enough even to make a map?"

"They fear it," answered Regdar, "probably with good reason. Tomorrow, we'll start toward this Fell Forest. The people in Klionne think the forest is the origin of this cold. That could be nothing more than local prejudice and superstition, but who knows? Maybe they're right."

Hennet nodded. "Sonja tried to dispel the wave when it passed over us. That ring the mayor gave her was supposed to do the trick, but it didn't even to slow the…whatever this is down."

"I had little hope it would succeed," Sonja said. "The magic affects a huge area of land, so its power must be far greater than anything in this ring. I had hoped, however, that I might slow it down, but there was no noticeable effect at all. The ring worked. I could feel it, and its magic was not insubstantial. But it was as if the power of this ring was inconsequential against the advancing wave of cold. Whatever drives this is operating with an entirely different magnitude of force."

"I don't follow you," Lidda injected. "You mean, it was like this cold just ignored your spell, as if it didn't exist?"

Sonja shook her head. "Many variables come into play when trying to cancel one magical effect with another, too many for me to say with certainty what really happened. It was…unusual, but I'm not sure why. In all likelihood, an effect this large was created by magic that's too advanced for this ring to dispel. That's not uncommon. Perhaps I'll have better luck at its source."

Talk about the impenetrability of this magic made Lidda uneasy, so she changed the subject. "What shall we do about the bridge?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hennet. "Why worry about the bridge?"

"Those orcs we fought were desperate. I don't think they were here waiting to ambush someone coming across the bridge. The normal bridge traffic won't be coming through until this situation is resolved.

"I think those orcs were guards," she continued. "They were here to hold the bridge and protect it from destruction so they could use it. Their homes are being wrecked and their routines disrupted by this cold. I'd bet they'll try to leave the area, and they'll cross this bridge to do it. When they do, they'll pose a danger to Atupal and Klionne. From what I've heard, they're not the only tribe of monsters out here. I say we should cut down the bridge."

Hennet's brow furrowed. "Then how will we get across the river on the way back?"

"If it gets warm again, we should be able to find a place to ford the river," answered Regdar. "If we can trust this thing they call a map, the river's somewhat narrower to the east."

Hennet shook his head firmly. "What if we need to leave in a hurry or before the river warms up? As you said, the bridge is barely standing now. If monsters try to use it, the whole thing will probably collapse under their feet. A few less orcs in the world is fine with me."

"That's beside the point," Regdar protested, but he was interrupted by Sonja.

"It's almost sundown, and while I can probably travel this terrain by night, I trust that isn't the case for the rest of you. We can worry about the bridge in the morning."

With a few quick spells, Sonja cleared an area of snow to pitch their tents. She shared a tent with Hennet and Lidda shared with Regdar. As Hennet kept watch outside, Regdar whispered to Lidda, "What do you think of Hennet?"

You don't want to know what I think, she thought, but all she said was, "What kind of name is Hennet? Sounds like a chicken."

Regdar chuckled softly. The halfling whispered, "What do you think of Sonja?"

The fighter thought on that. "I don't know," he honestly said. She had healed his leg by running her palm over the wound, and she did it with the powers of nature, not the clerical magic he was more familiar with. It felt different; more organic, more personal. The contrast intrigued him, and so did Sonja.

The temperature dropped considerably overnight. In the morning, as they dismantled their camp, Lidda repeated her concerns about the bridge, seconded by Regdar. Only they favored destroying it, and with the vote split two and two, the bridge was allowed to stand.

"I make it about two days to the forest," Hennet announced after studying his map for a few minutes. "That's assuming we can keep moving as if this were summer… which, of course, it is." He paused for laughs that didn't come then pointed into the distance. "It's somewhere in this direction. And that's about all the information we're going to get from these maps. We can probably throw them away once we actually start moving."

"We might need them on the way back," Sonja reminded him.

"Yes," he allowed, "the way back. We certainly will want to be able to find our way back to Atupal and Klionne with the head of the dragon in tow so we can collect our rewards and be feted as heroes."

"Dragon!" shouted Lidda and Regdar in synch. "What dragon?"

"Oh," Sonja's face turned dour. "You hadn't heard?"

"Word must not have gotten to Klionne before you left," Hennet said. "The day before we set out, a traveler came into Atupal saying he'd passed through a little hamlet called Litkil, north of the city. He found it empty, all the people dead-frozen, as if by a white dragon's breath. The hamlet was outside the cold zone at the time. The treasury and the local shrines were ransacked but the houses were otherwise undisturbed."

"You think a white dragon is causing this?" asked Regdar. "All this is about a dragon building a hoard?"

Hennet nodded. "It looks that way."

"The real question," Sonja said, "is where it came from. It's not likely that the dragon and the cold are a coincidence. White dragons don't come this far south. Mind you, neither do ice druids."

"A dragon," Lidda repeated. Monsters were plentiful, but a dragon

… the mythic weight behind the word made her tremble in excitement and fear.

"Well, the sooner we get underway, the sooner we can slay it. This way." Hennet pointed toward the north and took one step before Regdar stopped him.

"It's not that way," Regdar corrected. "If I read the maps right, it's more… that way." He pointed slightly to the left of Hennet's direction.

"Oh, is it?" Hennet replied, suddenly belligerent. "I hoped it wouldn't come to this, but maybe before we go much farther we should choose a leader. In case squabbles like this break out, we should have somebody to solve them." He cast Regdar a sideways glance. "We ought not waste our efforts fighting each other."

"Right," Regdar answered. "Who shall it be? Atupal or Klionne?"

"Boys, boys," Lidda interjected. "If you're not too busy measuring your swords, let me suggest a solution. Let's make the leader the person who's most at home in this landscape, who has the most experience with snow, and who I'm guessing knows more about white dragons than anyone else here."

All eyes turned to Sonja, who beamed with a mix of modesty and pride. She pointed directly between Regdar and Hennet's points.

"This way," she said. That way they went.

It was several hours later when they first saw the dragon. It was hard to spot at first, because the wind had picked up and snow was shifting and blowing across the landscape. The movement caught Lidda's eye. It was little more than a white dot against the blue sky in the distance, but it was approaching fast. Immediately Sonja chanted a few exotic syllables, and the party felt magic enfold them.

"What have you done to us?" asked Regdar, holding up his hand to look at it. His skin and clothes were completely white so that he could barely be seen against the snowy background. He saw that the others were similarly changed. He could see them because of the textures of their clothing and their sharp outlines and because they were silhouetted against the horizon, but from overhead or with a white background they would be nearly invisible. Sonja shushed Regdar, and the four of them watched as the dragon turned in a wide circle then grew smaller in the distance.

Lidda ran her hand through her supplies, making sure she still had the potion of flight shed picked up last month in the great city of Vasaria. It was an extravagant purchase, one she hadn't told Regdar about. She bought it for personal use, but now that a dragon was involved she decided to keep it closer at hand, in her vest pocket.

"I've never seen this spell before," said Regdar, inspecting his stark white shoulder closely.

"I call it snow shield," the druid answered. "My parents developed it. Helps you disappear when a predator's approaching. Dragons have exceptionally good eyes. We're lucky it hadn't seen us already. Or, for that matter," she looked back behind them, "our tracks." Their footprints were only partially concealed by the blowing snow.

"A nice spell, but Sonja, why did you cast it?" complained Hennet. "Now the dragon's flying away and who knows when it might come back? With luck, I might still be able to get its attention. If we bring it close, we can finish it here and now. I could use this fireball wand, or you could use that new lightning trick of yours. I've been dying to see that."

"I can only do that in a storm," Sonja said, "and I wouldn't have anyway. If we tried to fight the creature now, the dragon would fly right over us, swoop down, and freeze us with its breath before we could touch it. Have you felt a white dragon's breath? It can freeze your flesh solid, cocoon you in ice. Even a young one can do that. This isn't the right time. When we face the dragon, we need to do it on our terms, where we'll stand a chance."

"But the dragon was flying in the direction of Atupal," Hennet protested. "If it hadn't turned, our inaction might have cost lives."

"If it hadn't turned, any action would have cost our lives, and then the dragon could have flown on to Atupal anyway," the druid shot back. "Would that be better?"

If they were a romantic couple, Regdar reflected, they weren't yet in synch.

As if on cue, the spell expired, and Hennet and Sonja's spat abated with it. The cold march continued across the snowfields.

Near midday, Hennet and Regdar moved into some brush to set a snare, hoping to catch a few rabbits for their next meal. Lidda and Sonja rested against a rock that sheltered them from the wind and listened to the two men arguing in the distance.

"Isn't this place," Lidda asked, "this kind of landscape, like where you come from?"

"In some ways," Sonja said with a touch of sadness. "If I were to let that part of me come to the fore, I would feel quite at home here. But this is an abomination. It's unnatural, and that makes it very different from my home."

"Why did you leave there?" Lidda probed.

Sonja smiled at the halfling, a smile so benevolent that even Lidda felt its attraction. It was no wonder men responded so favorably to Sonja. There was bottomless warmth to her smile, Lidda thought. Such strange beauty-her cheeks registered as much warmth as an ice sculpture. Lidda wondered if Sonja might have some elf blood in her. She knew that in druid communities, race played little part in relationships. Elf heritage would go a long way toward explaining her otherworldly looks and the quiet, unconscious sensuality in her every movement. In that way, Sonja was much like Regdar's beloved Naull, who had been taken from him only a few months ago.

Lidda had been carefully observing Regdar's reactions to Sonja. She knew that in his heart he was loyal to Naull and that he believed she still lived somewhere in captivity, but Sonja must seem very appealing to him in his loss. Her most arresting quality was her serenity. Despite the strong, measured passion she displayed, she was an island of peace in all of this chaos. For men of violence, and for Regdar especially, she must seem like shelter from the storm.

"I was fifteen years old before I saw a human being other than my parents," Sonja explained. "They were members of a druidic circle in one of the great southern forests, but they decided to put the druidic community behind them to pursue unity with nature and their own interests. They resolved to go to the place farthest removed from man that they could find, just the way the great druids of history did. So they departed for the far north." A faraway smile crossed Sonja's face as she thought of her birthplace.

"I was born in the shadow of the Endless Glacier, along the ever-white valleys and ridges that surround it, where they made their home. There were wars to fight there too, against the evil frost giants who rule the tundra like tyrants, bringing white dragons and verbeegs and winter wolves and a dozen other races under their control. Mostly my parents just tended to the animals and plants and to the ice itself. In time their skills became atuned to this landscape. They raised me as a druid and taught me those same skills."

"What happened?" asked Lidda. "Why did you leave?"

"I left when my parents died. It was nothing heroic. The tundra takes its toll even on ice druids. They and I still had relatives in the southlands, farmers and even city-dwellers who never understood their decision to leave. Before they died they made me promise to travel south and visit those relatives and former friends, to explain to them what they had done with their lives and why. Looking back on it now, I think they sent me south because they didn't want me to live a solitary life in the bitter cold just because they did. They wanted me to see some of the world so that I could choose my own home."

"What choice will you make?"

"I met my parents' family," Sonja went on. "They were warm to me, but they could not understand me. No one can."

"Not even Hennet?" asked Lidda. Sonja shook her head, smiling sadly.

"So then," Lidda said, "you intend to return?"

"I intend to," Sonja replied. "It has been a long time, though. Too long, I feel." She gestured around her. "All of this is very familiar to me and welcoming. I miss it greatly. I didn't realize until now how much I missed it, or how my abilities have lain fallow in the south. When I was twelve, I would never have been surprised by orcs concealed under mounds of snow."

"Where did you meet Hennet?" Lidda continued. "What's his story?"

"I fear that Hennet's story changes every time he tells it," Sonja laughed, and the sound was like sun sparkling on icicles. "In the southlands I discovered something my parents never explained to me. I met men my age and found that they could… satisfy certain needs."

"Happens to the best of us," Lidda said with a bawdy wink. "I don't suppose there was much of that type of action up in the arctic, was there?"

"I should say not," the druid responded with a smile. "I met him at a ducal ball. Hennet is handsome, dashing. He's a little…"

"Enamored of himself?" offered Lidda.

"He's not entirely as charming as he thinks," Sonja said, "yet that only makes him even more charming, in a sweet way. Someone close to him recently left him, and he was looking for comfort. I was looking for a traveling companion. It was a good fit, convenient for us both. I don't expect too much of him, and he doesn't expect too much of me."

"That simple, is it?" asked Lidda warily.

"Not quite," Sonja admitted, looking the halfling squarely in the eye. "You and Regdar are born adventurers, and so is Hennet. You're well suited to this rootless life. If my time with Hennet has taught me one thing, it is that I am not. I've learned that staying in one place is very important to me."

Before Lidda could blurt out another question, Hennet and Regdar returned empty-handed. Lidda was filled with questions, but the conversation would have to wait for later. The wind was increasing slowly but steadily, and stinging ice crystals occasionally whipped around their sheltering rock to bite the halfling's cheek. She pulled her fur-lined hood tighter around her neck.

"Sonja," Lidda asked, "can it get much colder than this?" Sonja gazed off at the horizon, barely visible through a stormy, white haze blanketing the formerly blue sky.

"It can," she said, "and it will."