There she stood upon the top landing.

She threw her lithe body against one massive door. It seemed impossible that she could open it alone, especially while still gripping the crumpled sage.

The hinges of the great door squealed.

Chap slipped through the space between the gates and plowed across the inner courtyard's snow. He had to reach the doors before she could shut him out, and he caught only glimpses of the castle in his rush.

Half the stones of the arch framing the great doors were cracked. Here and there, corners of the blocks had broken off and fallen away. The wide staircase was just as deeply aged and worn, and its first step sagged midway along the seam between two of its stones. Glass panes in the high tower windows, which had been clearer in Magiere's dream, were opaque with age and frost.

The iron door's hinges screeched again.

Chap's forepaws hit the sunken bottom step. He tried to howl, but his voice failed in his dry throat.

The door's noise ceased.

He slowed, panting hard, to find the woman watching him with intense fascination from around the door's edge.

Long black tresses fell back over her perfect white shoulders, and for the first time, Chap saw the burnished metal hoop hanging around her naked throat. He looked more closely at its open ends resting below her collarbone. Each had a knob-exactly like those of the thorhk that Magiere carried.

Chap slunk to the top landing and paused before the white undead.

Wynn… are you all right?

"Chap?" she called out. Her frightened voice echoed out of the narrow space between the iron doors.

The woman flinched at the sage's words.

"I am… all right… I think. Only bruised and cold."

The white undead cocked her head.

"Who is she?" Wynn called. "Why did she kill those elves… and not me?"

Chap had no certain answer, and no time to ponder this creature's reaction to the sage's spoken words-nor what anmaglahk were doing out here in the middle of nowhere.

This undead was hardly predictable or stable. There was no telling what might cause her to turn lethal again, and little Chap might do to stop her.

She just stared at him and then pressed her porcelain face against the door's edge.

Chap saw only one crystalline eye as the visible half of her expression wrinkled in a snarl.

She shoved the door, and it lurched with a moan of rusted metal.

Chap stopped breathing, but the door moved only an inch.

Her one eye watched him, daring him to enter, and only waited so long to see if he would.

Even if this undead allowed Wynn to live, let alone leave, the small sage would never survive the trip back. Neither might he.

Chap slunk forward. When his nose breached the narrow entrance, he darted in.

Wynn felt only a flicker of relief as Chap rushed in. Then the naked woman slammed the door shut, and they were all enveloped by darkness. Wynn fumbled quickly for her crystal.

When its light erupted between her rubbing hands, the white woman still stood before the iron doors. Wynn cowered under her cold gaze and scooted in retreat until her back collided with stone.

She turned to see two rows of massive columns along a wide corridor leading into the castle's dark interior. The darkness behind the pillars began to move.

Pieces curled out into the edges of her crystal's light and undulated like black smoke. Instead of rising into the heights, the wisps turned and twisted, almost willfully. One trailed out behind the pillar Wynn leaned upon, then snaked down to splash upon the stone floor.

Some of the smoke coalesced to form a wide paw of shadow. From around the pillar, the lanky silhouette of a wolf stepped out into the crystal's light.

Chap snarled and bit into the bottom of Wynn's coat. He dragged her to the wide corridor's center, still growling, as more shadows shifted beyond the pillars.

More forms appeared in the dark. Another black translucent wolf stepped out across the corridor, and its rumble rolled around the stone walls. It lunged and snapped before Chap could dart into its way.

Sooty jaws passed straight through Wynn's ankle.

She screamed as frigid cold knifed deep into her bones.

Get up! Chap ordered.

He charged the shadow wolf, snapping his jaws over its muzzle- through its muzzle.

Chap's yelp echoed down the corridor as he lunged away with a shudder.

Wynn scrambled up, limping from the cold ache in her ankle. Smaller indistinct forms slithered in the dark around the white woman's leg-and she advanced.

Keep away from her!

Wynn retreated as Chap's warning filled her head.

The shadows came no closer. They only shifted behind the pillars as the white woman stepped slowly forward. Wynn and Chap backed along the corridor as she herded them.

Wynn barely noticed when the row of pillars ended and lost track of the twists and turns along the way. As they turned into a passage no wider than a common cottage, a shadow wolf appeared in their way.

The only path left was a doorless opening on the right, leading into a room. No one-and nothing-followed them inside. Chap whirled to block the entrance as Wynn slumped to the floor in chilled exhaustion.

The rest of the night was horrible for Magiere, listening to Leesil's tale of how she'd run off in her sleep and the others had gone looking for her.

"I told Wynn to stay!" he finished, and Sgaile's amber eyes echoed Leesil's frustration.

Neither of them blamed Magiere for Wynn getting lost. Indeed, they were both concerned for her state of mind. But it wasn't hard to see that each wrestled with heavy guilt.

Osha sat near the canvas, often peering out into the night. Once, Sgaile had to stop him from leaving on his own.

"Chap will find her!" Leesil said harshly. "But we won't find either of them in the dark. Chap will hole up with Wynn somewhere until morning and wait for us."

Osha just kept peering around the canvas' edge.

Magiere couldn't bear the sight and lowered her eyes. No matter what Leesil or Sgaile said, this was her fault.

Something had taken her in sleep, in dream, until she couldn't tell what was real anymore. She'd put everyone at further risk after dragging them into this world of snow and ice. For all Leesil's assurances, Wynn might not survive long enough for Chap to find her. The thought of continuing without Wynn made Magiere want to weep, but she couldn't.

"Don't let me sleep," she whispered.

Leesil glanced over with a puzzled expression. Sgaile lifted his head and then sighed-he knew what she meant.

"I can't…," Magiere whispered, biting down anger. "I can't take any more dreams. Not if I can't tell what's real anymore."

Her sheathed falchion was still leaning against the depression's back wall. She snatched it up and tossed it to Sgaile. He caught the blade with a look of puzzlement on his dark face.

"Don't give it back… unless I need it," she warned.

Before Leesil could explode, Magiere put her fingers over his lips.

"I remember… barely seeing Chap standing on me," she said. "The way he looked… he wouldn't have come at me, if I hadn't done something that scared him… unless you were in danger."

Leesil sighed sharply in anger. "I should keep your-"

"No," she cut in, and looked to Sgaile. "If I lose myself again, I might only recognize Leesil or Chap. Either way, I don't want them near me and carrying anything I might see as my own weapon, or I might try to take it and…"

Sgaile understood, and closed both hands tightly around the falchion's sheath. He nodded. Not his usual curt bob, but slow and slight and all too resolute.

Even Osha had turned to listen. The worried look on his long face suggested he understood most of her words.

"Magiere… the dagger?" Sgaile said softly.