Until we've dealt with this… this monster, Jalan isn't leaving me."

The belkagen said, "Lady-" "No! Don't you 'Lady' me. You said it yourself. This staff, this Karakhnir is our best defense against these fiends who want nothing more than to take my son. I'm his best hope of staying safe." "Lady Amira, I-" But this time it was the omah nin who cut him off, simply by raising one hand. Haerul waited for silence, then said, "Your son's best hope is to kill those trying to harm him, and your best hope for doing that is to attack them before they attack you. Do you truly wish to take your son into battle?" "No, of course not, but…" The omah nin raised his eyebrows and nodded. It was the same expression her brother used to make at her when besting her in some argument, and Amira almost threw her staff at the high chief.

"Lady Amira," said the belkagen, his voice mild, "will you hear me?"

Amira looked at him, her mouth a razor-sharp line, and gave one stiff nod. "Remember the words of Hro'nyewachu. Jalan must go to the Witness Tree. Whatever is going to happen there, we must buy Jalan time. We must keep the Fist of Winter distracted at all costs. You and Karakhnir will do this like no other. The Vil Adanrath will fight, but it is you and your staff that the Fist of Winter will fear. You know this." Amira did know it, though she hated every bit of it. Sifting through the oracle's words, she grasped the last tattered string of the unraveling cloth of her argument. "I will give you the staff, Belkagen. Lead your people to victory. I will take Jalan to this Witness Tree and do… whatever must be done." The belkagen shook his head and sighed. "I cannot. The staff is for you and you alone. I will not desecrate the gift of Hro'nyewachu." And so it had been decided. And so it would begin any time now-Amira leading the first strikeforce upon Winterkeep while other packs came in from every direction. The plan was simple: Keep the enemy's attention fixed on Winterkeep. The belkagen and Lendri would take Jalan to the Witness Tree. By sunset tonight, all this would be over, one way or another.

Amira swore to her gods that Jalan would be free today, or she would be dead trying to free him.

The belkagen and Lendri came to her not long after. Amira's heart lurched, and she swallowed. The elves stopped near her fire. "It is time, Lady," said the belkagen. Amira looked down at her son. "I don't know if I can do this," she said. "You must." "Please, Belkagen," she said, her eyes welling with hot tears. "He's just a boy." "This is a cruel world, Lady," said the belkagen. "You now face what all mothers face. Your boy can be a boy no longer. You cannot protect him forever.

He must stand on his own." "I don't fear him standing on his own," she said, and the tears fell, freezing on her cheeks. "I fear him falling alone. He's not ready for this. Not yet." "He will not be alone," said Lendri. "The belkagen and I will watch over Jalan. If anything tries to harm him, it will have to take our life's blood first. If it is the will of your gods and ours that Jalan die today, he will die beside friends. That is the most anyone can ask of the gods." Amira sniffed, trying to contain her tears. She did the one thing she'd learned to do at a very young age: She turned her grief and heartbreak to anger. "I hate the godsdamned Wastes," she said. "I hate them." "She is a hard land," said Lendri, "and she breeds hard children. Take heart and give grief to your enemies." Something that was half-sob and half-chuckle shook Amira. "Ah, Lendri. Someday I'm going to introduce you to my mother. You'll learn hard then." She stepped forward, twisted a brass ring off her finger, and handed it to Lendri. "Here. Take this." The elf took it and studied it, turning it in his fingers. "What is it?"

"Something a dear friend once gave me. It's magical." "I am no wizard, Lady." "You need not be, not with this ring," she said. She explained to him what it did and how to use it. "It will work only once, so don't waste it. It may not be much, but it helped me escape from that lecherous bastard Walloch when all my best spells were spent." Lendri put the ring on the middle finger of his right hand and bowed. "Thank you, Lady. I will use this gift in service to your son." The belkagen cleared his throat and said, "Amira." "Yes?" Only a slight flutter shook her voice. "It is time. We must wake Jalan and go."

Winterkeep Late morning. The low, slate-colored sky threatened overhead, and Amira looked down for the first time upon the ruins of Winterkeep.

Only the seven pillars-all broken at various lengths-were visible. The piles of broken stone and boulders that the belkagen had told her littered the ground were now only great drifts of snow. But Amira had seen it all before. In Hro'nyewachu she'd seen Iket Sotha die, and in her mind's eye she could still see the seven-pillared colonnade, the wooden mansions and outbuildings, and the wall of finished logs painted in the royal colors of Raumathar. The air was so cold that the snow seemed more of a frozen mist coming off the sea. From where she crouched on the slight rise of land, Amira could see the ruins, but beyond that was only a constantly shifting canvass of white and gray.

She turned around. Leren and two massive gray wolves crouched behind her. Panning out behind them were more Vil Adanrath, both elves and wolves. Some of the elves carried weapons, but a few had stripped down to loincloths so that they could change to their wolf forms in battle.

Even with the small bit of kanishta root wedged in her jaw, flooding her body with warmth, just watching the nearly naked elves crouched in the snow made her shiver. "Any sign of the enemy?" asked Leren. Amira found it an odd question, elf eyesight being far superior to her own.

But then she realized that she could sense something. Through the thick hide of her gloves, she could feel power pulsing through the staff, connecting her to their surroundings, almost as if the staff were a young sapling with thousands upon thousands of roots spreading throughout the ground. To the north, scattered throughout the ruins of Winterkeep, that life seemed to twist and warp, as if shunning something there. "Something's down there," she said. "I can't see it, but I can sense it." "Iket Sotha is very old," said Leren. "Terrible things happened there long ago, and many foul creatures lurk in its depths. Perhaps that is what you are sensing?" "Perhaps," said Amira, but she didn't believe it. Off to their right in the distance came a long howl, plaintive and ending on a low note. It was the signal to begin their advance. One more off to the south would be the signal to the belkagen to get Jalan to the Witness Tree. They set off at an easy trot, Amira leading them. The wolves fanned out, flanking them but slowing their pace so as not to outdistance the others. Two-thirds of the way down the slope, they were approaching a series of humps that Amira had taken for snow-covered boulders. But as they drew close, the mounds erupted, and a half-dozen Frost Folk threw off their blanket of snow and the cloaks under them. Axes and swords raised, they charged Amira and the Vil Adanrath. Amira raised her staff, and a wave of elves and wolves swept past her. She cursed as an elf and his wolf-brother leaped between her and her intended target. But the Frost Folk turned and ran, heading for the ruins. A Vil Adanrath arrow sent one crashing into the snow, and three wolves fell upon him, rending and tearing. The tall men were surprisingly swift, not outpacing the elves but matching their speed. When they reached a large snowdrift they stopped and turned. A pair of winter wolves came round one side, three round the other, and two climbed the crest of the drift. Upon the topmost wolf-a great white beast larger than a stallion-a figure hunched inside an ash-gray cloak. Amira screamed and charged. The Frost Folk and winter wolves held their ground and waited for the Vil Adanrath to come to them. To Amira, the battle was a cacophony of growling and shrieking wolves, shouting men and elves, the clash of steel on steel, and the cries of the dying. Once the forces met, all was chaos, but Amira kept her focus on one thing only: the sorcerer.