And then there was the cold and the darkness.

Scrabbling noises like fingernails grating on rock, teeth crunching bones, ice freezing in my veins I hear scrabbling noises, the woman dreamed. It's the sound of fresh earth being thrown on my grave, thumping with each show elful. I have to scream. I have to yell and let them know I'm still alive.

But that's so much effort.

"Dig, dig, dig," said a little voice in singsong.

It's not coming from my throat, the woman concluded dreamily. It's too dry… my throat's too dry.

"Dig, dig, dig," said the voice again. It sounded like a peevish child. "Just because he says so. Does he dig? No-o-o. That's why he brought me along so he could make me dig. He gets to sulk, while I, Icy-White the Clever,

I get to dig."Ow!" A sharp jab pierced Martine's numbness "ow"

The pain brought things into focus. Martine was on her

side, pressed beneath a mass of ice and snow. She could vaguely see a tumbled field of ice, perhaps the base of a slide, that stood out in stark shadow from the fading blue glow that lit the night, the last light of Jazrac's magic. The slide apparently ended in the rift floor, now hard and still. The canyon walls had fallen inward, leaving a broad bowl where the rift's jagged scar had been. Distant crashing rumbles still echoed across the snow, warning that all was not yet still.

The jab repeated, not as sharp this time but still painful. "Get… me… out of here." The words were a great struggle. A layer of frost settled on her cheeks cracked as she spoke.

"Ice talks!" squeaked the voice. The scrabbling renewed, faster and closer. Suddenly sharp claws raked the Harper's cheek and harshly brushed away the snow that coated her. The sting cracked the lethargy the ice was sealing about her. The Harper struggled against the enclosing tomb of ice and heaved upright, the motion accompanied by the grinding sound of cracking snow.

"Awwwk!"

"What the-" The cry escaped Martine unwillingly as she found herself faced by a creature of ice. It couldn't have stood any taller than her thighs, though it loomed over her now as it stood on a block of ice pinning her legs. Its skin was pearly and smooth with blue-white translucence, yet cut in hard angles and sharp edges like shattered ice. The head was broad and flat, eyes gleaming under razor-edged brows.

The creature hopped back, momentarily as startled as she. "Not ice! No, no, no. This is not ice."

The Harper tested her legs, trying to shift free. The block that pinned her legs was loose, but at the first tremor, the creature lunged forward, seizing her neck with one clawed hand. Its grip was cold and strong, its fingers clicking bonily against each other as it squeezed her throat. "No, no! You belong to Icy-White now. My prize-mine and mine only," the creature babbled, its mirror-sharp face fractured with glee. An iciclelike claw waggled through the steam of her exhalations. Abruptly the creature gave a startled squeal and snatched its hand away. "You burn, you steam!" it chirped in wonderment while licking furiously at the finger Martine had just breathed on. "I'll show you to Vreesar when he comes," it continued craftily. "'Then hell let me stop digging."

Scampering like a monkey, the creature seized the Harper's shoulder in its cold claws and dragged her from the icy debris, all the while taking care to avoid the steam of her breath. Its talons dug through her furs and drew blood beneath them, but Martine was too tired to fight back. It was all she could do to feebly kick free of the last bits of crust.

"Now, no fight from you, hot one, or Icy-White kill you and feast on your cold meat," the creature cackled near her ear before it released her. Its breath was chilling, without a hint of warmth either in spirit or body.

The ranger didn't answer, nor did the creature care. In springing hops, it leaped from block to block, bounding across the slide, but never far from where the Harper lay. Martine remained still, watching and gathering her strength. I'm too weak to get away yet, Martine calculated after noting the creature's nimble speed as it crossed the treacherous tangle of the slide. She felt wary but not fearful, since the thing didn't seem immediately intent upon killing her.

Indeed, for the moment, it seemed to have forgetten her as it scrambled over the slide, poking here, sniffing there, all the time muttering to itself. Eyeing her weird captor, the ranger tried to match the creature to all the fiends she'd ever seen or heard of. With its stunted size and shimmering skin, it looked like a malevolent sprite sculpted from

ice. Its form lacked gentle curves, each joint capped by glittering little spurs. Nothing about it matched her experiences nor any of the tales she'd heard. Glacier lore was not her strong suit.

While the strange creature capered in the ghastly light of fading magic, Martine discreetly probed the snow for her gear, a search that turned up her sword and pouch but little more. Jazrac's cinder was still there, she noted with relief, along with his dagger. She thought of staking it in the snow in hope Jazrac might be at his crystal ball at that very moment, but she couldn't. Calling for his help now was admitting her own failure and she still had hopes of succeeding. All she needed was a little time to get away.

"Who are you?" she called to the impish thing. The question was partially a stall and partially curiosity.

"You talk-you talk again!" Sliding and bounding, the ice sprite careened down the slope to land not far from her feet. A stream of dislodged ice and snow clattered down after it.

"Who are you?" she repeated.

"Me? Me?" The thing sprang about in glee, all the while grinning in cold, false modesty. "Hot Breath, you were captured by Icy-White the Clever, Icy-White the Quick-"

"The greatest of the…" It was a thin trick, but Martine was banking on the thing's simpleminded vanity to finish the phrase.

"Yes, yes. The greatest of Auril's children, the greatest of the mephits. Clever warrior I am to capture you. Vreesar will be much impressed with me.`

Auril, mephit, Vreesar… Martine seized on the three clues, even as she nodded in false awe. Auril was the Frost Maiden, goddess of cold, and supposedly worshiped by the people of the far north, not that the Harper had ever seen one of these so-called ice priests. Mephits she knew even less about some type of elemental imp or fiend. Still, it was enough to confirm her suspicion. Shifting closer to her sword, she asked anyway.

'Ibis isn't your home, is it?"

The mephit stopped and looked all about, head snapping to and fro in nervous tics. "Home? Oh, no. Oh, no. This place is too warm. But Vreesar found the path and wanted to explore. Dragged me with him, he did. Made me come."

Her guess was right; something had passed through the rift. But how many, and how dangerous were they? She needed to know if all her work to seal the rift was too late. "Vreesar?"

"Vreesar's mean, bosses me around, thinks he can tell Icy-White what to do, but now look who caught Hot Breath. Now Vreesar's just "The mephit's gaze strayed upward, looking at something behind Martine, and as it did, the bold words in its throat choked off in a stunted gurgle. "Vreesar is very clever and quiet," Icy-White concluded in a squeaked whisper.

The mephit had barely spoken before Martine, her fighting senses coming back to her, scooted around to the side so she could see both the mephit and where it gazed, pressing her back against an upturned ice block

Towering over both of them, a good two feet taller than Martine's five-foot frame, was an overgrown version of the mephit that had captured her. The beast had the same armor-sheened skin, smoothly flowing over its body to taper off into sharp-edged flares. The icelike carapace rendered the creature insectoid, even though it stood like a man. The look was further enhanced by the fact that its frame was overly thin and elongated, yet that same thinness made menacingly powerful the hard bands of muscle that swelled like cables across its body. It was the effect one might have gotten, Martine imagined, if you pared all the soft parts away from a normal creature, leaving nothing but the hard masses behind.