She did not move.

Put your hands into my fur-now!

Chap tugged her coat's ties with his teeth and burrowed through its open front. All the while, he prattled into her head, trying to bring her fully awake.

Wynn's fingers clutched weakly at his fur.

"You… stink," she mumbled through chattering teeth. "Need… a bath."

Chap took a deep breath. You are no spring flower right now.

The quick moment of relief passed, and Chap lifted his head and looked warily about-at stone for Earth, snow for Water, and the wind of Air. He and she would always be surrounded by the elements.

Chap hoped that only Wynn had heard him.

Hkuan'duv had left Danvarfij to stand watch at camp and now crouched with A'harhk'nis and Kurhkage behind ice-encrusted rocks. Wind and snow churned in a full blizzard. Across the slanted slope, he watched the canvas-covered depression as Sgailsheilleache and Osha returned and slipped from sight.

"What did you see earlier?" Hkuan'duv asked.

A'harhk'nis never took his eyes off the shelter. "The human, Magiere, came running out and headed up the mountain. Not long after, the others followed, but they hesitated and then broke into two groups. I do not believe they knew where she went. Later, the half-blood and the majay-hi brought her back, and I returned to report to you."

"Where is the small one?" Kurhkage asked.

A'harhk'nis shook his head. "She had not returned when I left."

Loud barking carried from the shelter. The silver-gray majay-hi boiled out through the canvas, heading upward through the crags. Hkuan'duv frowned, rising slightly to watch.

"What has happened that they continually risk this terrain in a night storm?"

Neither of his companions ventured a comment.

Hkuan'duv waited, but no one else exited the shelter.

"Should we follow the majay-hi?" Kurhkage asked.

Hkuan'duv was uncertain, and the dog was already out of sight.

"Stay back, and downwind," he ordered. "We cannot allow the majay-hi to scent us."

They slipped silently over rocks and snow as A'harhk'nis led the way.

Fortunately the majay-hi could not move at full speed in the drifts. A'harhk'nis occasionally signaled them to slow or change course. They stayed well behind the majay-hi, no closer than needed to keep its shadowy form within sight through the blizzard.

Snow fell so thick that A'harhk'nis stopped more than once in tracking through the mountainside's twisting paths. As they passed through a saddle, Hkuan'duv heard someone cry out.

"Chap… here… I am here!"

A'harhk'nis signaled them into hiding as the majay-hi wheeled and headed back their way. All three of them sank into the snow at an outcrop's base and spread out their white makeshift cloaks. They became no more than snow-blanketed boulders.

The majay-hi ran straight past them into a high-walled gully.

All three rose and crept onward as Hkuan'duv took the lead.

Had that fatigued cry come from the young human? Why had the majay-hi gone alone to search for her?

Hkuan'duv realized he was higher than he had thought, perhaps close to the top peaks. Could this little female have found Magiere's destination? And if so, why had she gone out alone?

Too many questions with no answers, and then he saw the majay-hi veer in against the gully wall-through the gully wall.

Hkuan'duv dropped and inched forward on his belly. Pulling his white hood low, he peered into the break.

A chute ran upward through the stone, and near its top someone hunkered against the left side. He made out the shape of the small woman, and her cloak bulged as if something shifted beneath it, halfway into her lap. She mumbled too low for him to hear, and then the majay-hi's head popped out of her cloak.

Hkuan'duv ducked back along the snow and rolled up to lean against the gully's rough wall. A majay-hi risked itself for a human, but no such guardian of his people had ever shown affinity for an interloping weakblood.

Sgailsheilleache kept strange and deviant company, and Hkuan'duv wondered if his caste brother was wholly self-possessed. Or had Sgailsheilleache fallen under some undetected influence? Hkuan'duv glanced at Kurhkage and A'harhk'nis, crouched and waiting.

If anyone had located Magiere's final destination, Hkuan'duv needed to know. The most expedient option was to take this little woman and question her. Lost as she was, her companions would never know what had become of her. But the majay-hi was a more difficult concern.

No one ever interfered with its kind's comings and goings.

Hkuan'duv signaled Kurhkage to follow, leaving A'harhk'nis to guard the chute's entrance. He rose and turned into the stony passage, but he had barely taken three silent steps when the majay-hi's head reared again.

Its crystal blue eyes glinted in the dark space, and a low growl rolled down the stone chute.

Hkuan'duv froze, but the majay-hi tilted its head upward, and he followed its gaze.

A flicker, darker than the night sky, dropped down between the chute's high walls.

Somewhere out the chute's bottom, Chap heard the hiss of fallen snow driven by the wind. Then it stopped, too suddenly. Chap raised his head from Wynn's coat.

Above him, a bird's caw trailed out like a scream.

Chap lifted his eyes skyward in surprise. No bird could survive up here.

A black shadow dropped out of the night, darker than sky or stone. It passed high through the chute's stone walls.

Chap felt a heat spread within him… on an urge to hunt. His heart pounded as his awareness filled with the presence of an undead. But as he traced the shadow's passing, it took the shape of a large bird-perhaps a raven.

Wynn, get up!

She stirred, lifting her head to look about.

Another flicker dashed between the chute's high walls in the shadow bird's wake.

This one was not black. Muted in the blizzard, it was as white as the snow, and leaped between the chute's sheer walls.

Chap's hunting heat turned suddenly cold. He shook free of Wynn's grasp, lunging out with his head high. He tried to spot that fleeting patch of white, and then he saw two tall figures at the chute's bottom.

Their cloaks were covered by white cloth, but the corners were tied around their waists-across the gray-green tunics of the Anmaglahk.

Hkuan'duv thought he saw a raven's black silhouette. Its wings were so wide that one tip brushed the high stone wall. As it descended through the chute, he glimpsed the wall beyond it.

No, he saw through it-as if the mere shadow of the large bird had lifted from the stone and moved in the air. It dove straight for his face.

Hkuan'duv ducked at the last instant. As he turned, he never got out a word of warning.

The shadow shot straight through Kurhkage's upper chest.

Kurhkage's one wide eye did not blink as the black form flashed out of his back and arced up to vanish in the dark. His gaping mouth quivered as he stopped breathing and collapsed against the chute's side.

Hkuan'duv snatched Kurhkage's cloak front and lunged for the chute's lower opening.

What was this shadow of a raven?

Kurhkage's cloak tore in Hkuan'duv's grip.

His arm snapped straight behind him, jarring his shoulder. Loose stones made his foot slide, and he quickly shifted his balance. He glanced back to see what had snagged his companion, expecting a crack or the edge of a rock.

Hkuan'duv stared into a woman's face, nearly as pallid as snow.

Not the one he tracked, the one called Magiere. All his senses sharpened in alarm.

Colorless crystalline irises stared at him from within eyes shaped like slanted teardrops-and they closed to menacing slits. Her oval face narrowed smoothly to the chin, like a hint of elven heritage. But those eyes were far too small below thin-swept black eyebrows that were not those of his people, not even those of a half-blood. She was human, but not of any race that Hkuan'duv had ever seen.