Chapter 13

The Drifting Sea, Lower Panak

Angusuk was the chief hunter of his clan. He was big, taller even than Eldako, and surprisingly fast, running easily over the snows on shoes of woven sinew. All his people were thus clad, while Shedara and Forlo and Hult had to struggle, their feet breaking through the crust and making them stumble with nearly every step. Before long, the storm overtook them completely, blackening the sky and cloaking everything in a gray haze. Shedara could barely make out the Ice People: shapeless, almost ghostly forms in the gloom. They sprinted forward, then waited for the others to catch up, again and again.

We would have died here without their help, Shedara thought. Even Eldako couldn't have done enough to help us. We would have died, and our bodies would have stayed buried until spring.

They went on for hours, across wastes that never seemed to change. No trees, no rocks, no rivers—just waves of snowy ridges, sweeping on for miles, dotted by the occasional Patient One, the crude statues looming like angry giants out of the dark. How Angusuk and his people knew which way was which, especially in the storm, Shedara had no idea—but on they ran, never hesitating to get their bearings.

Finally, one of the travelers collapsed. It was Hult, his leg giving out, still smarting from the horax's jaws in the arena. He staggered, then fell forward in the snow and could not rise again. Forlo turned him over and slapped his face to keep him conscious. The Uigan was very pale, his eyes glassy.

"We've got to stop!" Forlo called. "He can't keep this pace anymore. None of us can." He was ashen and bleary, his beard crusted with ice.

Angusuk loomed out of the snow so suddenly that a knife dropped reflexively into Shedara's hand. He caught the motion and stared at her, his face invisible behind scarf and mask. Flushing, she put the blade away.

Eldako explained to Angusuk what had happened, in their stuttering language. Shedara watched the two speak, using gestures as much as words to convey what they meant. Angusuk kept shaking his head, pointing onward. Eldako gestured at Hult, making a slashing motion with the edge of his hand. Angusuk shook his head and pointed again. Eldako looked away, his lips pursed.

"What's going on?" Shedara asked.

"He says we cannot stop now," Eldako replied. "It is only another two leagues to their village."

"Hult can't walk two more leagues!" Forlo protested. "I'm not sure I can, for that matter. Not in this." He waved his arms at the blizzard all around him.

"I thought the Ice People knew ways to survive," Shedara said. "The stories say they can dig shelters out of the snow to weather storms."

Eldako made a face, then took her arm and drew her away from the others. "It's not the storm Angusuk fears," he whispered. "There are… creatures out here, he says. Evil things. They hunt in the blizzards."

"Like the one that hunted Hult and his friends?" Shedara asked.

He nodded. "The Ice People call them Uitayuik, They Whose Eyes Are Open. They believe they're the ghosts of men who died in storms like these. They build the Patient Folk to placate them, to keep them away from the villages, but out here we are vulnerable. The Uitayuik cannot be harmed by mortal weapons."

"What about magic?" Shedara asked.

"Perhaps. But it would take a powerful shaman, and there are none among Angusuk's party. And… I am sorry, but I do not think your powers would be enough."

She glanced away, into the gloom. She thought she could sense movement out there—a shape where there should be none. And were those two glowing eyes, staring at them through the driving snow? She blinked, running a hand down her face, and when she looked again, the shape was gone.

"Great," she said. "So how do we get Hult moving again? He's spent."

"The Ice People will carry him. Here they come now."

She turned and Angusuk was standing now with three more of his people. They had laid their spears down on the snow and were lashing a seal-skin blanket between them, making a simple sled. Angusuk came over to the elves while they worked and spoke with Eldako again. There was more pointing, more gesturing, then the wild elf nodded, and the two of them put hands on each other's shoulders and touched their foreheads together. Angusuk jogged back to his people to help them finish the sled.

"They can build others for the rest of us, if need be," Eldako explained. "Though it will take time… and we shouldn't tarry here any longer."

Shedara thought of the shape she'd glimpsed. She could still feel it, out there—a sensation of hunger, loss, and loneliness, like a black well inside her. The Eyes were watching them, envious of their warmth.

"You sense something too," she murmured.

"I think we all do," Eldako replied. "Even Forlo, though he knows little of the wilds. The sorrow of the Uitayuik runs deep, and so does their hate."

Her eyes widened. "Their? There are more than one of them out there?"

"I have seen at least three. But I think there may be more."

"Why do they wait?" she pressed. "They could slaughter us all, if Hult's tale is true."

Eldako glanced away, into the storm. "Who is to say? Perhaps they like to toy with their prey. Perhaps they feed off fear. Not even the Ice People know… but the longer we stay out here, the more likely they will fall upon us."

He nodded into the murk, and Shedara gasped. There, unmistakably, were two sets of glowing eyes. They floated in silence, their gaze even colder than the wind. She took a step back, her hand dropping to her sword, then forced herself to let go of the hilt. If the Uitayuik fed off fear, the only hope was to make sure they stayed hungry. It wasn't easy, but she made herself walk away, back toward the others. Eldako followed. She felt those frigid eyes on her, black thoughts behind them.

Carefully, the Ice People lifted Hult onto their sled. Forlo stayed nearby, refusing to leave the Uigan's side. Forlo's face was as white as a corpse's, and he had drawn his own sword.

"I saw one of them," he said, pointing into the dimness with the blade. "It was watching us… then it was gone."

Shedara nodded. She told him what Eldako had said, what they, too, had seen. They both looked at the merkitsa, who was speaking again with Angusuk, hands flying as he talked. She turned back to Forlo and nodded at his sword.

"Put that away," she said. "Hult's friends' blades were no good against the Eyes. Our only hope is not to be afraid… or not so afraid that they come for us."

Forlo thought it over, then sighed, sliding his weapon back into its scabbard. "Sure," he said. "Don't be afraid of the murderous ghosts we can't fight and can barely see. Easy."

Shedara laughed. The sound drew looks from the Ice People, their faces unreadable behind their masks. She flushed. A moment later, Eldako came back to them, crunching through the shin-deep snow.

"We're ready to move," he said. "Angusuk's men will pull the sled. As for the Uitayuik—"

"Oh, don't worry," Forlo said, his mouth twisting. "We're not afraid of them at all."

Shedara coughed, covering her mouth to hide the fact she was laughing again. Eldako regarded them both, curious, then turned and called out to Angusuk. "Akpattok!"

So they picked up their pace, Hult lying dazed upon the sled as it scraped through the snow. Shedara and Forlo stayed near him, leaning on each other to keep upright. Behind, invisible but palpable nonetheless, the Eyes pursued.

They had gone four miles when the screaming began. Off to their right, lost in the driving snow, one of the Ice People let out a horrible, strangled cry that rose and rose, going on for longer than seemed possible, then breaking off suddenly. Hearing it, Hult roused on the sled, his eyes white.

"Ushim!" he called, lost in memory. "Chag!" He was back with his friends again, watching them die, one by one. The Uigan fumbled for his sword, struggling to rise. The Ice People pulling the sled stumbled; one fell.

Off to the left rose another shriek, which soon trailed into a gurgle.

"It has begun," Eldako said. "I think we are out of time."

"I hadn't noticed," Shedara shot back.

Forlo pointed at Angusuk. "Ask him what we do!"

Eldako did. Angusuk barked something back, then hefted his club, calling the rest of his people to him. In the distance, another pain-wracked cry rose above the wind.

"What did he say?" Shedara yelled.

"We run."

"That's it?" Forlo demanded. "That's his strategy? Run?"

"No," Eldako replied. "There's something else."

"What?" asked Shedara.

"Pray."

The Ice People converged on Angusuk. Several were missing. Men screeched, out in the storm. Dark shapes moved through the gloom, and white eyes gleamed, then vanished again. Forlo dragged Hult to his feet: the Uigan was incoherent with terror, but understood what they had to do. He found new strength—the same strength, no doubt, he'd drawn on when he fled the Eyes years ago—and bolted off, through storm and snow. The others went with him, Angusuk falling into the lead, guiding them through the blizzard. Shedara glanced over her shoulder and saw them: the glowing eyes, yes, but something else—the shadowy forms of men, gliding over the drifts, their feet never touching the ground. Terror flashed in her brain, and she jerked her sword and a dagger from their sheaths. They were useless now, but the feel of the hilts in her hands calmed her enough to keep her going, to drive out thoughts of what the ghosts might do to them.

They ran on. The Eyes shouted louder, the words incoherent but their meaning unmistakable: outrage that living things were out in their storm. Their bellowing was so loud, it seemed to be inside Shedara's mind. She fought the urge to look back, afraid of what she might see. She envisioned withered faces, flesh peeled back by frost. She imagined long teeth and grasping, sharp-nailed hands. She thought she could feel them, right behind her, clutching at her back… .

And then there was something in front of them, a new shape looming out of the snowfall. The Ice People stopped running, so quickly that Hult slammed into one of them from behind. Forlo tripped, stumbled to his knees. Shedara twisted, avoiding a collision with Angusuk, and came to a halt with both blades extended before her. The new shape stood still, a man-sized shadow atop a jutting stone.

"They're all around us!" Hult cried, lurching back to his feet. "Yamur! Don't go out there!"

"Be still!" snapped Eldako. "That is no Eye."

"What, then?" Forlo demanded.

"Tulukaruk," spoke Angusuk in a voice that held no fear. "Ata matau pulumik."

The other Ice People spoke the same words, lowering their spears. Shedara looked behind them and felt her breath stolen away. The Uitayuik were close enough to see now—half a dozen dry, blackened corpses in ragged furs, their ears and noses gone, needle-like fangs jutting from slack mouths, clawed fingertips opening and closing on the air. Just as she'd imagined.

Their eyes shone like distant stars, the unhealthy white of snow-glare. They bawled and moaned and barked… but came no further. Something held them back, like chains weighing them down. They leaned forward, their hands snatching, but they couldn't take another step. Their anger and rage surged.

"Kan ingulut assarnuik," croaked the voice of the shadow blocking their way. "Auluru samak ukarvuit vanga!"

In that moment, the storm itself seemed to falter, and Shedara felt something familiar: power, coursing through the air, throbbing around the shadow-shape. The words were not in any tongue she knew, but they were magic nonetheless. Golden light flickered around the shape, driving the snow away. The wind's howl subsided to a murmur. Even the biting cold abated.

The light fell upon the shadow, and revealed a man: small, stooped, and impossibly old, bare-chested in the storm, his wrinkled flesh creased with patterns of glistening scars. His long white hair and beard were woven with talons and teeth and small blue stones. He leaned upon a long staff, capped with the horns of a white dragon. The golden radiance pulsed around him as he smiled a toothless grin.

"U vanga-vanga!" the ancient wizard crowed. "Samak utu vanga!"

Shedara leaned close to Eldako. "What's happening?"

"He is a makau," the wild elf replied. "The clan's Eldest, its sorcerer. The Ice People revere their magi."

"And the words?" Forlo asked.

"To the north-wind, the north-wind. Vanish upon the north-wind… ."

The Eyes raised their voices as one, a chorus of ghastly howls that made Shedara want to throw down her weapons and cover her ears. Hult did just that, sobbing at the unholy din. But the old man, the makau, did not falter. His childlike grin only broadened as he lowered his stick to point it, one-handed, at the bellowing dead men. Then he made a low, growling noise, so deep it could be felt more than heard. A second tone rose above it, high and whistling, like some mad piper. The muscles in the makau's scrawny neck twitched and writhed as he sang with two voices at once—and the golden light poured from his staff, warm as it flowed past Shedara and the others, onward to engulf the Uitayuik.

The makau's power tore them apart, burning the leathery flesh from their bones, turning it to soot, laying bare their skeletons. Then the bones themselves charred, blackened, and collapsed into heaps of ash that streamed away upon the wind. Only the eyes remained, glowing motes in the storm—and then they flickered and went out, like candle flames snuffed by the wind. When the golden light abated, all that remained of the Eyes were smears of gray in the snow.

The old man lowered his staff. Shedara thought the spell might have drained him, and took a step toward him in case he began to collapse, but he caught her gaze with his own—his eyes weirdly young-looking, black and sparkling—and shook his head, smiling once more. Satisfied, the makau turned and hobbled away.

The storm resumed abruptly, slamming into them again with its full fury. Forlo and Hult were both dumbfounded. Shedara looked to Eldako, who was busy chattering with Angusuk. "What next?" she asked, interrupting.

"We go on," Eldako replied. "We are safe now, thanks to Tulukaruk. He goes ahead, to make ready for our coming. Ahead lies Kitaglu, their village, and the way to the Wyrm-namer."

They started off again, Angusuk and his people leading the way. Eldako and Shedara started to follow, then stopped at the sound of Forlo's voice.

"Hult?"

Shedara paused, turning to see. The Uigan had walked back, to stand before the stains where the Eyes had been. Now he bent down and scooped up a handful of ash and snow. He held it in his hand, staring at what remained of the Uitayuik. His lips moved, but the howling wind snatched the sound away.

Forlo started to approach him, but Eldako caught his arm. "No," the wild elf said. "Leave this moment for him. For his memories."

Shedara bowed her head, thinking of all she had lost. Her queen, her home, the brother she knew would never speak to her again. Her eyes stinging, she forced herself to say farewell to all of them. Only the Hooded One remained. Only her quest mattered now. Hult, she knew, was saying good-bye not only to the friends the Eyes had killed, years ago, but to his own people, drowned by the Tiderun. She looked at Forlo, and saw understanding written on his face as well. They were all three homeless now, their pasts gone forever.

Hult whispered a while, then shut his eyes and cast the ashes into the wind. They vanished at once, borne away by the storm. He turned and strode through the snow after the Ice People. Icy tracks glistened on his cheeks.

The others let him pass, then silently followed after.