 
Copyright notice

Porter, M J

Hidden Dragon (previously published as Purple)

Copyright ©2013, Porter, M J ebooks edition

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

Cover design by The Book Cover Designer

ISBN: 9781301794126

For my son, Jake

18th November 1999 – 5th April 2002

And my mother, Janet

3rd August 1948 – 26th September 2003

Thank you

Contents

Chapter 1 - Sunrise

Chapter 2 - Six Weeks Earlier

Chapter 3 - The Long Day

Chapter 4 - Companions

Chapter 5 - Trapped

Chapter 6 \- Revelation

Chapter 7 - The Librarian

Chapter 8 - Speaker

Chapter 9 - Awakening

Chapter 10 \- Alone

Chapter 11 - Truth

Playlist

Meet the author

Chapter 1 - Sunrise

The view before her was perfect, pristine, virginal. Untouched by any foot. Behind her, she'd sullied the snow with her presence and the heavy task strapped against her chest. Her feet, encased in snowshoes, had woven an uneven and erratic path, fuelled by her anger and shaped by the evolving texture of the less than flat surface she was walking over. Uniform it might appear from a distance; the truth was starkly different.

The sun shone mutely yellow, huge on the horizon. Its heat was minimal, not alleviating the freezing conditions. Her tears froze on her unprotected cheeks and her snot on her trembling lips. As well wrapped as she was, only her eyes and her nose were totally exposed to the blistering chill. The rest of her was covered in thick animal furs. Her legs encased individually in the furs of a white and a grey hare; her cloak made from a giant white wolf with a broken black line straight down the back and on her head and ears the furs of a Long Day brown hare; her hands enclosed in midnight sealskin gloves and underneath the assortment of furs, she wore a pair of leggings made from some stitched together sheepskins and her plain tunic made from the wool of one of those sheep.

She felt warm, whether from her attire or fuelled by the hatred that coursed through her body with every jarring step; she didn't bother to work out. Whatever was doing it, worked for her.

There was total silence apart from her harsh breathing; her barely stifled hiccupping sobs and the soft padding of her companions four paws over the current powder like surface. Her own feet were slowly sinking as she stopped briefly to catch her breath, rasping through her achingly cold lungs. Her throat burnt from the bitter chill and hastily wiping her nose, mouth and eyes on her icy sleeve she pulled the hare fur scarf more snugly around her face to better warm the air before it entered her body.

She fiddled with the straps on her backpack. They were digging into her shoulders slightly. As she did, she disturbed the burden attached to her chest and had to rearrange that too. By the time she was comfortable again, her feet, even with the snowshoes on, had sunk ankle deep in the cloud-like substance. She released her feet with a heave of effort and continued walking up the steep rise in front of her. Arrow was already waiting for her on the summit, her breath forming a white fog in front of her as she panted. The wolf kept her tongue firmly in her mouth not wanting to risk it freezing on full exposure to the frigid air of the first day of the Long Day.

Sereh reached the summit and shielding her eyes, glanced at the vista before her. The sun had reached its zenith in the ice violet sky and in its feeble illumination she could see the full majesty of the glacier, Vatna Jokull as it stretched as far as the eye could see, bordered on all sides by massive mountain peaks, snow-shrouded except for their dark tops.

Vatna Jokull glowed a rainbow of precious gems where the sun reached its smooth glass surface. The view was breathtaking and awe-inspiring, but she knew its beauty from afar would be deadly from up close. Just like the beauty strapped to her chest, and protected under her fur cloak. It would not be for much longer. She would soon need to kiss those auburn curls goodbye and never smell the innocent skin again. At the thought, her heart broke afresh, and warm tears joined the frozen tracks on her face. She hoped her anger would resurface, but it didn't. She felt hollow, and more alone than she ever had before, even though she had Arrow and the baby for company. At least for now.

She didn't descend from the peak, but instead turned and walked towards the dull orange orb. She fancied that if she carried on along the path of the ridge that she'd walk right off the end of the horizon and into the glowing sun. The thought cheered her slightly. Maybe a death in heat and fire would be more pleasurable to one of slowly freezing. Then she could join the baby, and they would be together forever, albeit in death.

All too soon she'd reached her destination, and she knew that it was time to make her decision. She could return. The baby couldn't.

She loved the baby strapped to her chest. She could freely admit it. What she couldn't reconcile was her desire to live, even with the baby exposed and left alone to die on the frozen, rocky overhang. Her life was one of servitude and misery with no hope of betterment, and still she craved it more than death. Her love must be a poor imitation of the real thing if she could put herself first.

Her anger and frustration boiled over, and with it, white-hot images of her imprisoner flashed before her eyes. She hated him, detested him, and yet was entirely reliant on him. Her survival depended only on his goodwill and leaving the baby here was the only way to ensure it. It was that simple; take the baby home, and she would die; leave him here and she would live.

She agonised over a decision she thought she'd already made as she stood desolately staring into the slowly sinking sun enveloping the horizon in a dazzling array of mauves and pinks. It thrust much of Vatna Jokull into shadow, and with a start, she felt a prickle of unease. She'd delayed too long. Night would fall soon and when it did the temperature would plummet, and an impenetrable dark would descend. She'd end up fumbling her way home, with no means to see and no way of retracing her steps. She'd die regardless of her time spent deliberating what she should now do. She had no more time. She must act now to protect herself.

With renewed sobs, she quickly pulled her precious bundle from its cosy nest under her cloak. She removed her gloves and undid the buckles on the fur carrier, kissing the gentle curls and dimples on the fat little face as she lifted him into her arms. She smelt him, inhaling his scent so that she'd always remember. He didn't stir, even as the chill air quickly turned his curls to icicles and his breath to a freezing fog. Leaving him inside his padded sling and fully clothed, she placed him on the usual icy overhang, precariously balanced. She ran her fingers delicately over his sleeping face, fixing his image in her mind.

She resolutely turned away. Her breath caught in her throat, and she momentarily panicked as she fought to fill her starving lungs while choking on her sobs that wrenched from her body with physical pain. She stumbled, blinded by tears, and only the steadying feel of Arrow's fur beneath her bare fingers allowed her to follow through with her intention to leave.

* * *

He worked in the soft glow of the flickering blue flame, and the three large candles sat on his cluttered desk that gave off more of a yellow glow, enabling him to see. These three candles burned through the tallow around their wick and needed constant replacement. The blue flame never needed renewing. Occasionally it flickered, and when it did his heart temporarily froze as he waited for it to burn bright and true again. Sometimes it didn't gutter for rotation upon rotation. Other times it was more often. It worried him while at the same time being a source of comfort. It was his only point of contact and had been for more of his life than it hadn't been. It was more companion than any other, and still, its fickle nature annoyed him.

His eyes were burnt with tiredness and on he worked, quietly, no noise other than the scrape of his quill over the smooth vellum, the occasional chink as he dipped his quill into the inkpot, and the odd crackle and snap from the fire glowing balefully at his back.

Behind him, the pile of workable pre-prepared vellum sheets was starting to run low. Soon he would have to take a break from his lifelong work to make more sheets. He'd once thought he'd made enough sheets and that he could continue without a student to prepare his materials for him. Bitterly, he realised now that he'd been wrong. His life's work was not yet at an end. He would need a new student.

It had been over twenty-five rotations since his last apprentice had left. His name had been Hagon Harkonnsen. He'd been an exemplary student; keen to learn; eager to know, but never too inquisitive. He missed him and felt fresh remorse for his untimely death and that of his wife, whose name he couldn't recall.

He'd been prepared to accept their daughter as an apprentice even though at the time he'd not thought it'd be necessary. It was irrelevant now. Fate had played her hand. His apprentice was dead and their daughter reduced to servitude. No doubt she'd have made an excellent addition to the select followers he'd known throughout his long life.

With an effort, he forced his mind back to his task and peered intently at the faded script before him from which he was copying. The words were clearly legible on the well-preserved antique vellum, and he briefly wondered why he was copying them. Again.

He dipped his quill into the green ink and carefully wrote each word. They leapt clearly from the page, bold and new and he remembered why he copied them, as he compared the two; the old and the new; identical apart from the vividness of the green ink.

There was a sudden dimming of his lights, and he looked up. The blue candle gutted low, and he held his breath, hoping it would spring afresh again. Fearing what he would do if it didn't.

* * *

She walked through the silent rock way, her feet finding the well-worn path of centuries of wear, with ease. In places, the spaces were moulded exactly to her feet and felt almost like shoes made out of warm rock. They could have been comfortable. Almost.

As she walked, eyes closed, even though the tunnel was cast in darkness as thick as the Long Night, she felt the engravings on the wall around her with her right hand. Her fingers quested in and out of dips and shallows as she searched for the figure she sought.

She found she was unintentionally holding her breath and laughed quietly to herself at her folly. What did she expect? That she'd not find him? The wall art had been here for more rotations than she cared to remember. It had never changed. Admittedly the colours had faded, but that was no longer relevant in the dark. So why the worry now?

With a quiet gasp of relief, her fingers skirted over the figure she'd been seeking, and rested there. On the scene before her, he was but a tiny point, but one holding the focus of almost all in the huge picture. His reckoning was precise, right down to his straw-blond hair, and the colours of his green tunic and dark brown trousers. The only part of him even a little incorrect was his facial expression, for he was shown pleading whereas in fact, on the day being commemorated, he'd worn a fierce determination and she'd been proud of him. He was not to be denied that day.

All this she felt with her fingers and saw in her mind. There was no chance she could have seen the minuscule figure in the thick veil of blackness that hung all around her.

Unexpectedly, she felt warm tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away carefully. She'd not cried when visiting her sacred spot for rotations. There'd been little point. What was passed had happened and the future, agreed so long ago, was not yet come. Only time would bring events full circle. It was a bitter tonic but one she'd accepted, almost unquestioningly.

Sudden anger flared within her and burned so brightly she fancied she could see it at the corner of her closed eyes as a flashing of bright silvers. And with it, her warm tears flowed uncontrollably down her gently curving cheeks, and along her mouth. No sound escaped from her, but internally she screamed in rage and fury and suppressed grief for what had not been and what was, so achingly slowly, still to come.

* * *

He heaved on the great wood doors that sealed the animal barn, his powerful arm muscles straining against the unfamiliar motion. The doors screeched and groaned as they always did on first being opened for the Long Day.

He'd already cleared a path in the waist high snow to allow the doors to swing wide open and once they'd stopped shrieking in complaint, they gave and swung open on the watery blue of the First Day. The light was weak, but every animal head instantly turned towards him, blinking in the unexpected brightness that infiltrated the gloomy barn and showed the dust motes that had been released from their hibernation.

He moved quickly to release the animals from their pens. They could not move far but then, neither could he yet. The thaw had not begun, and snow lay thickly carpeting the landscape. Its brightness was almost unbearable on eyes so used to deep velvet black and flickering candles. He could feel his own eyes watering, and lifted his arm, encased in Long Night furs, to wipe the tears away. They fell more freely in the stored heat of the barn than in the frozen air outside.

The motley collection of farm animals shuffled forwards towards the smell of fresh air and the promise of Long Day grazing. He strode past them all on his way to the fodder storage. It was no longer filled with food for the Long Night, but remarkably, enough remained, and Erann forked it out into the centre of the barn so that the animals could help themselves. Typically they were all fed in their stalls, as much as to keep the place tidy than for any other reason. Yesterday he'd cleaned all the stalls in preparation for their journey today, and he didn't want to encourage them to make further messes which he didn't have time to tidy up.

As he finished forking the feed, he felt a wet nudge on his shoulder and turned to see Thunder, his father's horse standing as close to him as it was possible to be. His silver-grey eyes were intelligent, and Erann could almost hear the questions the horse was trying to ask him with just a look.

His behaviour today and yesterday were most out of the ordinary, even during the last eight rotations. He'd never before seen to the animals as soon as the sun first rose. But he'd made his decision and knew what actions he was going to take, so why, when the first faint streaks of green had illuminated the sky briefly yesterday should he hesitate?

He'd known with their arrival that today there would be full light, and however brief it was, he wanted to take full advantage. He wanted to get his mother away from their isolated steading and with the company of others. Then, he hoped, she'd become well again, and her desire to live would be rekindled.

He stroked Thunder's neck as he examined him one final time for any signs of injury. He'd done the same yesterday but found himself repeating the familiar motions of running his hands down his legs and along his back. His decision may well be made but still he hesitated. His actions were decisive, but there was a sense that in taking them he was surrendering the hopes and dreams of his adolescence and he was reluctant to do so. Erann shook his head angrily, and Thunder looked at him in puzzlement as he reached across the horse's back and took down the saddle and placed it on him. Thunder was to carry a careful load today, and Erann wanted to be sure he correctly attached it. As he worked, he found himself explaining his actions to the horse.

He spoke in a low voice of his fear for his mother's life if they waited too long. His mother's health was failing before his eyes, and he was close to despair. He wouldn't let her die. His father wouldn't have allowed it and neither would he.

Thunder stood patiently by, listening, or so Erann fancied. Then as he finished, Thunder made a point of turning towards him. The tears he saw in the eyes of his father's horse made him realise that he was not foolish to talk to him or to offer explanations. His own eyes watered in response as he led Thunder forwards to the welcoming light of day and the unwelcome deep chill.

Chapter 2 \- Six Weeks Earlier

She woke with a start, for a moment confused and disorientated, and perhaps most worryingly, warm from head to toe. That was most unusual.

Then she heard the screams of the birthing woman and practically leapt from the seat she was slumped in, next to the massive kitchen fire. She was supposed to get some warm water, but the fire had held a seductive lure over her, and she'd crept closer and closer until she'd sat in the huge wooden chair positioned to get the full force of its heat. It had made her sleepy, and now with a start, she realised that she was probably in for another tongue lashing from Jarl Rankil or his mistress.

She hoped she'd not been gone too long and that her prolonged absence would not be noticed. She doubted it. She wasn't scared of Jarl Rankil or his current bed-warmer, just preferred not to forgo some of the little luxuries she'd become used to of late. She currently had the use of her own little sleeping area instead of sleeping huddled on the kitchen floor amongst all the other servants. She hated to feel so pathetically grateful for this little show of grace but honestly, she did appreciate the peace and quiet as opposed to the endless snores and grunts that she'd been forced to endure every night for the last seven rotations.

The screams and cries of the birthing woman were beginning to get a little frantic as she made her way back to the woman's own private room. Not that it could be called a room. It was simply a curtained-off section in the main living area of the steading. There were no walls just the heavy curtains that attempted to create the idea of privacy.

The steading consisted of few rooms. Only the kitchen and lavatories were self-contained. Similar heavy curtains differentiated the sleeping quarters and the Jarl's private study. Sereh understood that Rankil planned to extend his steading, to suit his now official place in society. Sereh wondered how he would fund it, what deals he'd made with his followers to allow him the luxury.

The mistress had happily kept to Rankil's bed throughout the last Long Day and now found herself bloated with his child. She was extremely proud of herself because she knew that Rankil had no other children, and thought she would be greatly rewarded for her pains, even though he had since taken his own wife. Little did she guess the truth.

Rankil had made her think that she was benefiting from her association with him, but ultimately she'd end up like all the others who'd gone before. Sereh wondered to herself what would happen when his young bride, Aras, was in the same predicament. She assumed that Rankil would feel more kindly to his own legitimate heir, especially as the baby would prove beyond doubt that Rankil's and the old Jarl's blood was now incontrovertibly linked. Maybe then she wouldn't have to carry out her unpleasant task again.

Sereh wondered what magic Rankil had brought to bear on his young wife for her to tolerate his soon to be discarded mistress and even to consent to being his wife in the first place. Admittedly it had been a little uncomfortable when she'd first arrived, and Dabbie had made such a point of announcing her own presence and condition. The young girl had kept her wits about her remarkably well, being pleasant to the mistress, and not begrudging her new husband any time he wished to spend with her. Sereh wondered if Aras was as committed to being his wife as Rankil thought. No one else commented on it, but Sereh was sure that Aras was secretly pleased that Rankil was so often distracted by the charms of Dabbie.

She pushed her way through the curtain into the space where Dabbie was labouring and was instantly assailed by an unimaginable heat. Dabbie didn't like to be cold. She'd ordered that a huge fire be kept burning while she strained, and now the heat was almost stifling – far too warm for Sereh.

Dabbie was looking pained and extremely flushed on the birthing stool. However, with a cry of triumph, Sereh realised that the baby's head had appeared and that the herb woman was helping Dabbie deliver the rest of the baby. As soon as the child was safely delivered and wailing in the herb woman's arms, Dabbie turned to Sereh and demanded,

"Where do you think you've been? I hope you were not slacking in your duties just because Rankil has been a little kind to you of late? I can soon see to it that his 'favours' stop. Now go and get him, I want him to see his first born son".

Sereh would typically have felt a little stung by both Dabbie's tone and her remarks. Today she let it pass over her like water over rocks. Today she was on much safer ground than Dabbie who'd just presented Rankil with a problem that he'd have to deal with.

She also felt a little sorry for Dabbie. She'd only been in the steading for one rotation and didn't understand Rankil anywhere near as well as she should, and she certainly didn't know that now that the child had been born Rankil would be packing her off back to her family.

Yes, there might be some gifts for the family, for letting Rankil borrow their daughter, but there'd be little else, not even the child to show for her efforts. She'd not be able to contest his wishes now that he was officially married and Rankil had discharged his duties to both her and her child.

With a small sigh, Sereh put down her cauldron of warm water and turned to fetch Rankil. She had no illusions that Rankil would be overjoyed to hear his 'first' son had been born. Pity that Dabbie didn't realise just how many 'first' sons and daughters he'd already fathered and removed from public sight.

Rankil was striding towards the curtained-off area when she stepped out. He had a small smirk on his face and had more than likely been alerted to the birth of his child by the cessation of screams and grunts that had been ongoing throughout most of the night.

Sereh fervently hoped that it wouldn't now be long until the sun started its slow descent back into the sky and the days and nights began to differentiate themselves, in more ways than just candle lengths. She knew from her reading that the Long Night this rotation had been longer than normal and she just wished that it'd end.

The steading stank of too many unwashed bodies and there was no way to get the smell out until the huge doors could again be thrown wide open. It would involve backbreaking hard work for her and the other servants, but anything had to be better than the current feisty smell permeating everything. She longed to clean out the stinking latrines. She put off going in there as often as she could.

Rankil was a tall, lean man with greying black hair and a short beard that was more silver than black. He had piercing eyes to match his hair and holes where some of his teeth should have been. He was not an attractive man as he advanced into his middle rotations.

He stopped when he drew level with her and looked down at her to remark,

"For the love of the Gods, this one could raise the roof in ensuring everyone knows how much agony she's in. I imagine she's no comprehension of just how much agony we've all been in listening to her screams and cries. Just hope it was worth all the effort for her."

His tone was heavily dipped in sarcasm, a manner he adopted most of the time as if life was just one long joke to him. Sereh didn't answer him because she knew she wasn't expected to. He liked to have the last word on every issue and today would be no different. She did pity Dabbie now. Rankil would play all nicely, nicely and she'd not know what was happening until it was all too late.

Rankil was a devious man, although predictable to Sereh in his intentions. The entire steading would welcome the downfall of his mistress now that she'd given birth and everyone who'd endured her snubs and rude remarks would walk around with a little smile on their faces for a few days. No one liked Rankil. No one in the steading had any reason to because he was a hard taskmaster, yet that didn't mean that they couldn't appreciate his deceitfulness – as long as it wasn't directed at them.

Rankil brushed the curtain aside and strode into the room. Sereh followed far less dramatically. The scene before her had changed beyond imagination in the few moments she'd been gone.

Dabbie was no longer imperiously yelling demands to all and sundry. Instead, she lay on her bed, pale-faced and barely conscious as a crimson stream of blood surged from between her legs. The herb woman looked up at Rankil and only shook her head.

"I'm afraid my Jarl, that there's nothing I can do. The baby was big and vigorous and has torn her as he was coming out".

Her tenor was business like. She knew her Jarl well enough to appreciate that the news would be most welcoming to him.

Rankil took all this in his stride and didn't falter as he walked coolly to Dabbie's side. She had a faint smile on her face and no matter what her current predicament, she was obviously feeling proud of herself as she cuddled her small bundle.

"There you go my Jarl", she managed to croak out, her voice thin and reedy in stark contrast to her normal loud character, "your first son".

Rankil looked at her with something like pity and put his lips to her ear. Sereh was close enough to hear his whisper,

"Thank you, my love, for your gift. But how little you know. Don't worry your little son will follow you shortly".

It was not what Dabbie had been expecting to hear, and with her last breaths she struggled to protect her son from the implication in his words,

"No my Jarl, you must protect him, there is a woman in your steading who can feed him and he'll be strong and handsome like you" she desperately whispered.

"No need for that my love, I don't take on extra mouths to feed. Food and resources are too stretched as it is. I thought you knew that my dear".

The last term of endearment was said with enough sarcasm to ensure that even Dabbie knew, in her final moments that Rankil had never cared for her in the slightest. Dabbie glanced frantically past Rankil and caught sight of her. Sereh was not sure what Dabbie saw on her face, but whatever it was, her face crumpled with agony and she breathed out her last breath.

Rankil waited for barely a heartbeat before turning to his servants present in the room,

"Now isn't that helpful of her. Now we don't even have to lie, as normal, about where the child has gone. It can simply be put about that they both died in childbirth. Excellent. Now clear this mess up and get her out of here".

With that, he picked up the small bundle that Dabbie had been trying to protect and shoved it in Sereh's hands. She grabbed at it as he snatched his own hands away, without even looking at the baby.

"I know the timing is not very good, but you'll need to get rid of 'this'. I don't care if you keep it until the sun rises or if you just leave it with its' mother but I want no more noise today. I have quite a headache."

He burst through the curtains and out into the common room.

The servants were left slightly off balance by the tragic turn of events, yet in only moments they were busy bustling around, and the steward had stuck his head through the curtain to announce that,

"It was bloody inconvenient to die at this time of the rotation. We might have to bury her instead of cremating her; there's not much wood left, although that will be nigh on impossible as well with the depth of the snow and the frozen ground. For now put the body in the storage shed. We can't do anything with her for the time being. And make sure you get the blood off everything."

The herb woman undid the bloody sheets from around the bed and wrapped them around Dabbie so that no one would have to look at her anguished face any longer. One of the other servants picked up the cauldron of warm water Sereh had brought into the room earlier and sloshed it all over the bloody mess on the floor. She then got down on her hands and knees and started scrubbing at the blood in the hope that it wouldn't stain the precious wooden floorboards.

Sereh stood there clutching the now sleeping baby not knowing what to do. Everyone knew that it was her responsibility to dispose of the unwanted baby, but previous children had never been born during the Long Night, and Sereh didn't know what to do with it.

She couldn't leave it outside now, as she'd not be able to walk far from the steading without fear of getting lost in the permanent pitch dark. What should she do with it? As Sereh weighed up her options, Rankil stuck his head back through the curtains, making her jump, "Hurry up Sereh; I want you to come and read for me."

Noticing the baby still in her arms, he added, "Get rid of that thing will you".

Sereh made her mind up. She'd ask Mult to feed the baby until the Long Day returned. She'd not mind, and then Sereh could dispose of the baby in the usual place. It surely couldn't be much longer now. By her reckoning, the sun should rise within the next few days. She couldn't wait.

* * *

The wind drove at him, unrelenting in its intensity and bone-numbing chill. He couldn't understand it. The wind had been silent for more than two days now. If it hadn't been, he'd never have risked venturing outside. Now that he had, it had sprung up, as if from nowhere, and was a ferocious, hungry beast, draining his body heat and leaving him rooted to the spot, too cold to even shiver.

His breath was frigid as it attacked his lungs and he crouched, back pressed to his steading wall, hand clutched to the guide ropes, unable to move.

He wanted to cry in frustration. He was so close to home, and yet he couldn't reach it. His muscles were refusing to obey the half-hearted summons from his mind. It was an effort to breathe; an effort to keep his eyes open. Any moment now he knew he would be suffused with the warmth that came before death. He almost relished it and clung to the hope of it. At least he'd be warm. Perhaps he could convince himself that it didn't presage his death and enjoy it for what it was.

With a guilty sob, he recalled himself. He couldn't die here. He had a family who needed him and who would perish without him. He needed to fight the stupor that afflicted him.

He thought of his mother, dozing quietly by the fire unaware of his plight, and his young brother, waiting patiently for his return and reading the family archive while he whiled away the time. Surely they'd have heard the wind and wonder if he were all right? Surely they'd come looking for him?

No. They wouldn't. His mother was old and ill and his brother too young and too trusting in his older brother's invincibility. They'd be most surprised to find his frozen body when the Long Day began. If they survived without him until then.

Frustration welled inside him. He couldn't let this happen. His family had already lost too much. He sorted through his muddled mind to find the most pertinent God to pray too. He'd not sought comfort from the Old Gods since before his father's exile, and it was an effort to recall to who he should direct his prayers. Finally, he settled on Thor as the strongest.

He bargained with the God as he muttered soft words. If he lived, he would venerate him afresh. If he lived, he would offer a sacrifice of his one and only bull. But it was all to no avail. His legs were locked in place; his breath is coming in smaller and smaller gulps so that he felt light-headed as well as frozen. He could feel snowflakes landing on his closed eyelids, and he hadn't the power to either bat them away or open his eyes. The slow warmth was creeping up his body, and he knew his remaining time was short. He couldn't make himself care.

It was all so hopeless and such a waste.

He felt something on his sleeve. He assumed it was the wind attacking him from a new direction and paid no attention to it. Then he felt a warm breath in his ear that set his ear tingling uncomfortably even from such a small touch of heat.

"Come on Erann. This isn't meant to be your ending. You must get up and walk with me. You must go with me, and I'll get you back."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Bracing himself he turned his head into the wind, and as his breath was stolen from his mouth, he saw a figure standing there in a white wolf fur cloak, and he saw the man smile at him.

"Come on Erann. I'll help you into the steading. The wind will not beat you. I'll not let it and nor should you. I know it's hard, but you must come with me. Don't leave your mother and brother. They have need of you. You must get up and walk with me". The voice sounded so strong, warm and inviting, a comfort at a time of no comfort.

Erann got up, automatically obeying the words. His muscles screamed at him because he'd been crouched in the same position for so long. With shaking legs and a deep breath, Erann turned again to look at the figure of his father and realised that with his help he could make it home.

This man who'd been such a robust and dominating character in his childhood would help him to get indoors. Everything he'd ever done had been for his family, and he'd not fail Erann now.

He could feel his father's hand on his arm and one on his back, practically pushing him into the wind and towards the door that would be his salvation. Erann didn't have time to think about how his father could stand the wind tearing at them both with such spite and malice. He concentrated solely on shuffling his feet slowly forward through the dense snow.

The wind screeched and attempted to force Erann back against the wall. With the help of his father, who every so often turned his covered face towards him and offered further words of encouragement, he kept on moving. His mother and brother would be so pleased to see his father. They'd be overjoyed to know that he was here and alive and that he'd survived his seven rotations in exile. Erann knew that the questions he had for his father would tumble out of him, one after another.

Somehow he managed to keep moving and slowly the door came into view. Even though it was pitch black outside and the door was solidly closed against the windy assault, some light leached through the odd crack in the door and its frame. With a mighty effort, he managed to get to the tunnel that led to the inner door and banged on it, the signal for his brother to come and open it.

As he snatched breath into his starving lungs, he became aware that the pressure on his arm and back had ceased with the lessening of the wind now that he was sheltered within the side tunnel. With confusion, he stumbled inside the steading and looked around for his father.

His brother was looking at him with some concern. Erann was unable to speak. He simply slumped in through the door and watched with dismay as his brother shoved the door roughly back against the gaping hole. He tried to wave his arms to get his brother's attention, but Hakon was too busy wedging the door shut to notice.

Hakon bent to seal the crack at the bottom of the door with an old fur. It didn't move and kept the draft from seeping in. Erann was rationally considering all this as he sank slowly to the floor and lost all awareness.

* * *

Once more, he'd slept at his desk. He'd not intended to, but then, he never did. He wondered if he spent more nights in his small, hard bed, or more, head curled uncomfortably on the crowded, but orderly, desk that was his life's work. It was an unworthy thought. He knew he cared more about his work than his bed.

He raised his head, his neck and back stiff and used his right hand to massage his neck. He could tell by the length of the candles remaining that it was still early and no one would yet be stirring from their warm beds in their rooms above his head. He enjoyed the solitude most of the time, but right now; he was more than a little hungry, and the cook wouldn't be about her duties. He must have forgotten to eat his supper, again, last night!

With a heavy sigh, he picked up his discarded quill, relieved to note that it had fallen away from his working sheet and that he wouldn't need to restart the page. It was nearly filled with his crabbed, neat handwriting, and when he thought back, he realised that he'd been trying to make himself finish the page before he slept. However, exhaustion must have overwhelmed him.

He wondered why? He did little but sit and copy, or shuffle his way around his logical library like an old man. That was surely not enough to tire him so much each day or to make him quite as hungry as he now felt.

He reached for the script he was copying absent-mindedly, and as he did, his hand touched something hard, unexpectedly. He glanced up in shock as he recognised it for what it was – a plate of bread and cheese the cook must have left out for him. He smiled in genuine pleasure and tore hungrily into the soft crusty bread, breaking off a handful of hard cheese in his other hand. He also noticed the goblet and jug of mead, and greedily gulped a full goblet before turning to return to his task.

As he did, he was assaulted with a myriad of images of snow and wind and howling gales. He remembered then that he was more than he seemed, and that he'd done more last night than simply fall asleep at his desk from exhaustion. He must remember who he was. He must remember that he was not who he appeared to be.

Chapter 3 - The Long Day

She was lost and frightened and knew with absolute certainty that she was too far from her home to make it back tonight. The wind was beyond fierce, and the snow was flying blindingly into her face. Her tears of earlier had started again, and they and the snot from her running nose stuck to her face. Even Arrow was whimpering as the wind blew relentlessly against them.

She could think of nowhere that offered any sanctuary from the blizzard. She understood with a calm knowledge that surprised her that she was going to die here. She only wished she'd stayed with the baby. It would have been fitting if they'd died together. Maybe then someone would have found them together and somehow figured out what Rankil was doing.

She'd barely made it halfway home when the deep violet of night had taken all light from her surroundings. Now she was just stumbling around in the dark although she thought Arrow was trying to find the way back by following their previous trail. Sereh wondered how she could do that. Surely the wind and snow had obliterated their trail?

Arrow snuffled around, and Sereh followed her because she had nothing else to do. All hope had fled. She just wasn't prepared to sit down and wait for the cold to claim her. Not yet.

She could see nothing and hoped to herself that they weren't walking too closely to the sheer drops of the valley sides. While it might be a less painful way to die than freezing to death, she didn't want to try it. She could think of nothing worse than having the ground give out below her feet. The constant presence of the ground gave some small comfort as she battled her way onwards.

Arrow was whimpering from in front of her, and Sereh tried to call her name. The wind whipped the words right out of her mouth. Instead, she staggered forward to pat her on the back. Arrow whined as Sereh reached her and began to move slowly away from their current path. Sereh could tell because the wind now buffeted her from the side instead of from the front. She briefly wondered where Arrow was taking her before resigning herself to just following her friend.

Arrow had been just a baby when Sereh had come to Rankil's steading, and they'd grown and bonded together in such a way that Sereh considered Arrow, her true friend. If her friend was moving away from the track, then there must be a good reason, and Sereh was only too happy to follow her.

After only a few short moments, Arrow stopped short and began to sniff around on the ground in front of her. Sereh just managed not to walk into her, belatedly becoming aware of her unmoving friend. Letting out a small whine Arrow again walked forward, leading Sereh.

She was not overly sure where they were but the minute they stepped inside whatever it was, the wind stopped buffeting her, and she felt able to breathe more freely. It was dark, yet amazingly not as dark as it had been outside. There was a faint luminescence that allowed Sereh to see that they were inside some sort of cave. She sighed with relief and slumped down against the bare rock face at the back of the small cave, removing her backpack by simply releasing both straps at the same time so that it clattered to the floor. Against the muted dark she could see a small glimpse of the total black of outside and wondered how Arrow had managed to find their sanctuary, grateful, as she was that she had.

She was exhausted and safe, and that was all that mattered for now. With another whine, Arrow came and curled up next to her, and the pair of them sank into an uneasy, cold sleep, only lessened by the warmth of the one against the other. In her dreams, Sereh was sure she could hear a baby cry.

* * *

She woke disorientated, her mind still half dreaming. A soft rustling noise caught at her peripheral hearing, but she paid little attention to it as she quickly remembered where she was and wondered how she could feel so warm. Well, that wasn't strictly true. She no longer felt warm. Instead, there was a residual heat around her. Her clothes and face were slightly chilled but weren't cold enough for her to have spent the night outside. And not just any night; the first night of the Long Day.

There were no icicles hanging off her nose, and her clothes weren't encrusted with ice particles. More importantly, she was still very much alive, and so was Arrow, who'd begun to stir at her feet. Arrow had spent the night curled up on her legs, and Sereh knew that when she got off them, it was going to hurt.

She didn't rush Arrow by dislodging her from her place. Instead, she lay there, enjoying the luxury of waking up slowly and in her own time, despite the chill. It was unheard of. Generally, she was awoken by the other servants, or by Rankil's shouting and stomping around the steading. He was clearly not a morning person.

Instantly she was struck with a thought. Evidently, she'd just managed to survive the night outside without the comfort of heat or light. Could she not do that again? Maybe there was no need for her to go back to him after all. He would think her dead in the storm, and there was no reason to deprive him of that idea.

Arrow woke abruptly and leapt from her legs. Sereh gave a small moan of pain unnoticed by Arrow. Her nose was to the ground, and she was sniffing all around where Sereh lay. After only a moment or two, her ears pinned themselves back, and she gave a small moan. Sereh was surprised because she'd never heard her make such a noise before.

"What is it girl, what can you smell?"

Arrow only stared at her with what Sereh would call a quizzical look and walked outside, away from the little cave they'd found in the dark.

Sereh scrambled to her feet with some difficulty. She'd obviously slept in a very uncomfortable position, and now her legs and back were protesting as she tried to use them. She guessed that they were also a little sore from the exertions of the day before.

She managed to get one leg to work but then the other one buckled as she attempted to put any weight on it. She put her arms out to stop herself falling and leant on the cave's wall for support. She still nearly fell as she was distracted by how smooth the surface of the wall was. She'd never felt anything like it before, and so in a strange half-crouched position, which was all her back and legs would allow, she gazed with interest at the surface of her life-saving cave.

She'd been able to see little last night when Arrow had found her the cave. Now in the half-light, she noticed the curvature of the cave was incredibly even and also steep. The rock face didn't slope back as she expected but instead continued in an unrelenting straight line as far as the eye could see, which admittedly was not far in the faintly glowing cavern. Curious, she managed to get both legs to work and stepped back outside the cave.

There was a fresh fall of snow, and the sun was glowing weakly in the cloudless blue sky. Sereh blinked in the sudden brightness. Pulling her cloak tighter she gazed at the wall before her. It was continuous with no hint of another opening. She guessed they'd been very lucky last night to find the small cave when they had. Sereh wondered briefly just how Arrow had managed to locate it in the nightmare of the swirling snowstorm.

The sun had risen just enough to touch the wall, and she gasped out loud when she noticed the deep blackness of the rock. She'd never seen it's like. It was so black that while the sun illuminated it, the wall somehow seemed to suck the sunlight into itself.

Why had she never seen this rock formation before? She moved back into 'her' cave and continued to touch the rock face. She could find no hint of a seam in the rock, and it was flat as far as she could reach above her head standing on tiptoes.

She was intrigued.

Just then her stomach let out a loud rumbling. It had been nearly a whole day since she'd last eaten. She had some peat cakes in her backpack, and so bent to retrieve it from where it lay discarded. As she chewed the slightly spongy texture, she realised her lack of food would be a problem. At this time of the rotation, there would be little if any, growing wildly and the small wild animals would certainly still be deep in hibernation.

She banished the thought. She'd not return to Rankil now that he thought her frozen to death. However, she'd need food for herself and Arrow for at least the next few seven days until the Long Day had become properly established and the snow had started to melt. What could she do?

Pondering her predicament, Sereh hitched up her backpack and began walking along the inky rock face before her. She didn't know why but now that she was awake and up and about she was starting to get chilly from the wind enthusiastically blowing along the valley edge.

She walked some distance, sharing her peat cakes with Arrow, who skipped along beside her. Arrow seemed to have recovered from her bizarre behaviour of earlier and Sereh gave it no further thought as she walked above the snow with the aid of her snowshoes. That was probably another reason why her feet and legs hurt. She'd fallen asleep with them still on. They didn't make comfortable slippers.

She put behind her the tragedy of yesterday, happy to exhilarate in the feel of the sun on her skin, and she gladly closed her eyes and let the weak rays of the sun turn the back of her eyelids yellow and green. She thought that it was only when something was withheld that you began to appreciate it. The sun was a luxury no one on her world could take for granted.

And then she had it. She identified where she'd go. Calling to Arrow, she began walking back the way she'd come. She recalled someone who would help her, and she hoped that they'd also keep her identity a secret. She was so excited; she was practically skipping. The cave was instantly forgotten as Sereh walked off towards the feebly glowing sun.

* * *

The going was very uneven as she began her trek. The snow was so deep in places that in the first few moments she had to pull Arrow out from snow holes that had opened up beneath the weight of her paws. Arrow had looked a little annoyed on both incidences because Sereh had had to yank her neck and it had more than likely hurt.

Arrow was now more careful in choosing the path that they were slowly weaving. Sereh didn't blame her. The snow was so thick that all the usual landmarks were obscured and it was extremely difficult to know which way to go. Even their prints of yesterday had been obliterated. While initially, she'd decided to take the less direct route to her friend's house, the one that didn't involve crossing Vatna Jokull, she was now reconsidering her decision in light of the treacherous conditions.

She was aware that at the height of the Long Day the journey should only take about two days. With the weather as it was and the very short daylight hours, she realised that it would probably take twice as long if she continued on this path.

There had also been no sighting of any small creature that she could have caught and eaten, her other reason for not going across the cold and sterile Vatna Jokull glacier. Having pulled Arrow free from yet another snow hole, she decided the decision had been made for her. It would do her little good to take what was determined to be the safer path. Turning resolutely, she called to Arrow and began to walk towards the glacier.

She was also aware that she didn't want to be caught out in another storm and so all through the first day of travelling she kept her eyes open for any sign of somewhere to stop for the night. Vatna Jokull was surrounded on all sides by huge mountains, and by staying closer to the edge, she was able to keep an eye out for anywhere she could shelter.

She appreciated that she'd been very lucky to survive last night and she wanted to be much better prepared tonight. Food was going to be an issue as she already felt light headed as she trudged over the frozen surface, her feet slapping on the ice and sending painful reverberations up her chill legs. Still, the exhilaration was currently combating the hunger and the discomfort. Today she was officially free, and there was nothing that anyone could do about it.

They made good progress that first day, and as, the sun was setting in a cascade of purples overlaid with blues, Arrow chanced upon another small cave, more sheltered than the one of last night. Arrow went scampering to the back of the cave and came back with some small animal clamped between her teeth. Sereh was amused by the wolfy grin on her face – it was evident that she was pleased with the meal she'd caught herself for the evening. Arrow wouldn't mind that it wasn't cooked and was probably half frozen. Sereh knew that she would.

She riffled around in her backpack and was surprised when she chanced upon some more peat cakes. She'd not thought that she'd packed so many. Maybe Mult had put a few extras in for her.

Mult was the only person at Rankil's who was remotely kind to her, and she'd known how much Sereh had cared for the small baby, thrust so unexpectedly into her hands, and who she'd had to care for during the last six weeks.

Mult had been more complacent about the exposure of the baby. She was often pregnant herself and knew that some babies lived, while others died and that there was no reason behind the choice. While she didn't agree with Rankil killing healthy babies, she also understood his reasoning enough never to question him. After all, he left her alone with her children, even though he could have had them sent away as well. He didn't appreciate having to provide succour for anyone extra. He made that very clear and was not averse to withholding food as a form of punishment for her servants.

Exhausted from her day's travel, she ate her way through another two peat cakes, wincing when she heard the crack of Arrow's jaw working its way through her own dinner. Overcome with fatigue, she curled into a tight ball, dragging Arrow beside her, and slept on the hard black surface of the cave.

* * *

The next morning dawned chill and late and saw Arrow happily leaping ahead as she and Sereh continued to cross the vast glacier of Vatna Jokull. The sun was low in the watery sky and gave a slight warmth to the air, noticeable on the frozen terrain.

The view around her was dazzling with pure brilliant silvers in every direction, uninterrupted by any sign of habitation. No one wanted to live here; it was too barren in the short Long Day and too wind wrecked in the Long Night. Legend had it that in the deepest depths of the Long Night the air was filled with hideous shrieks and groans. How anyone knew that Sereh didn't know. After all, no one would be out this far in the Long Night. It was rare for anyone to be here in the Long Day.

Sereh only was because she wished to avoid the deep snow that covered the well-trodden paths that others might be using. She didn't want to run the risk of bumping into Rankil or any of his adherents. She was free from him now and had no intention of returning to his yoke.

With Arrow at her side, she felt secure in the knowledge that she'd stick to the safe areas of the glacier. Arrow had an uncanny ability to know where dangerous precipices loomed and always skirted around them. Sereh trusted Arrow and the last three days, when they'd been alone together, had only served to strengthen her confidence in the wolf-dog who looked to her.

Sereh had a lot to think about as she trudged through the energy sapping snow that had formed in places on top of the glacier, pooling and dipping in response to the fierce winds she'd heard about so much. The going was strenuous, and the pack on her back was steadily growing heavier with each soft footfall on the padded surface.

In front, Arrow was darting all over the place, sniffing and scent marking as she went. Sereh was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the slight wind wafting the hood on her cloak and it took her a moment to realise that Arrow's ears had pricked up and that she'd stopped, dead, in her tracks. A low whine was escaping her mouth, and Sereh rushed to her. Bending down to stroke her immensely soft, midnight black neck with one hand and tweak her alert ear with the other Sereh said,

"What is it Arrow?"

Arrow just kept looking forward, intent on what it was she could see. Following Arrow's line of sight, Sereh scanned the horizon in front. Nothing appeared any different. The vista was still as untouched and untroubled by animal or human presence. Sereh was puzzled. What had made Arrow act like this? And then she heard it – a low agonised cry that sent a shiver up her spine. She had no idea what could be making that noise but hazarded the thought that it was some sort of animal in trouble.

"Is that it girl? Is that what's made you stop?" Sereh asked Arrow, although of course, she knew she'd get no answer. Arrow did give her one, though. She stood up and started walking forward with her grey ears pressed flat and her black tail firmly down between her legs.

Sereh hesitated to walk towards the awful noise that she heard but neither did she want to be left behind without her trusty guide. She was a little curious as to what could scare Arrow so much and still compel her to walk forwards.

Arrow was maybe four wolf lengths in front by now, and Sereh hurried to catch up with her, putting her hand on Arrow's soft neck for reassurance. Arrow didn't seem to notice her touch and continued to walk carefully forward, now and then sniffing the ground in front of her. Sereh could see no prints in the snow and nor was she likely to. The unheard of snowstorm of last night had been heavy. She couldn't understand how anything could have survived through the winds of yesterday evening, and that did make her shiver with terror, for what sort of creature, if any, could have survived so long in the below freezing conditions? Maybe the rumours were correct after all.

It was then that she noticed the lump in the snow directly in front of them. If it hadn't been for the streak of yellow on the otherwise purest of white snow, she wouldn't have marked it.

At that moment the lump started to shake, and Arrow ran straight for it and began to sniff. As she did a further groan escaped from it. The noise now sounded very human and feeble. Cursing her stupidity for finding a dying person she trudged towards Arrow who was sniffing the lump appreciatively.

Arrow was looking immensely pleased with herself although Sereh was more than a little annoyed at the prospect of having to delay her journey while she cared for someone she would have to lie to. There was no way she could be honest about who she was.

Bending down near Arrow she noted the stranger's tormented and frozen face. Male or female, she couldn't tell. All she could say with certainty was that they looked like they might expire before her very eyes. Great, she thought, just what she needed – another half a day and this person would have been dead without involving her at all. It sounded harsh, even to her, but she had a place she wanted to be. She'd also spent too much time with Rankil. Everything with him was measurable, even life.

As she brushed the blond hair back from the face of the body before her, she gasped in recognition. She'd seen this man before, in much different circumstances. Suddenly she didn't want him to die quickly; she wanted to do all she could to keep him alive.

Scanning the immediate area she thought she saw a small opening in the wall of the mountain not too far to her left. She leapt up after first grabbing his backpack from where it lay abandoned on the ground, and raced towards the cave with Arrow following closely behind. The run soon tired her as she realised the opening was further away than she would at first thought. Arrow leapt in front of her and raced to the small fissure. Ears pricked and alert she sniffed the entrance and then went deeper inside. She was gone from sight for as long as it took Sereh to reach the cave. Arrow appeared calm and was breathing evenly as Sereh staggered inside and collapsed on the hard grey floor.

Sereh struggled to get her breath back as Arrow began running back towards the person in the snow. Sereh was a little annoyed and a little resentful of Arrow's stamina. Huffing to herself, she picked herself up and started to gather whatever she could find to start a fire. She rifled through the backpack she'd grabbed in hope and thankfully found a genuine stone.

Scurrying to the back of the cave she came across some small deadwood and also a lump of something that looked distinctly animal like, but now very dead. She picked it up with the tips of her fingers and took it back to where she planned to build her makeshift fire. Never mind that it would probably stink when burnt, this little lump of fur would make the fire burn hot and fierce, and would hopefully stave off the ice chills that her snow friend would be susceptible to after his extended exposure on the glacier.

Sereh didn't have time to think about what he was doing out here, alone, and obviously in trouble. All she could do was focus on the task at hand and wonder what Arrow was doing. She'd not come back yet, and Sereh hoped that she wasn't trying to single handily bring him to the cave. If she were, then he'd end up with many more bumps and bruises than he needed.

Happy that the fire was starting to give off some heat, Sereh grabbed a wooden cup out of his backpack and stuffed it with snow, before putting it near the fire to melt and then heat.

Aware that she'd prepared all she could, she turned to leave the cave. She'd not gone far back across the violet-tinged glacier when she saw Arrow dragging him along the ground. Sereh hurried to catch up with her and called her a 'good girl', while secretly thinking, 'silly girl. Now look what you've done to him'.

Either he'd fallen back to sleep, or Arrow had hit his head on something, because he was to all intents and purposes, unconscious. Arrow looked so proud that Sereh didn't have the heart to tell her how dangerous it was to be dragging him along. That said Sereh was also astonished by Arrow's strength. She'd managed to pull him all this way with no help.

It was only a few more moments before they got him inside the cave. Sereh covered him in every available piece of clothing she had, stripping down to her layer of sheepskin tunic, and further ransacked his backpack for spare clothing and furs. She made Arrow lie next to him. They were all dangerously close to the spluttering fire so that they could absorb as much heat from it as possible. As she'd suspected, it smelt of dead animal and the burnt fur scorched her nose but made the fire burn hotter far more quickly than if she'd only had the deadwood to use.

Sereh reached over the touch Erann's face was pleasantly surprised by how warm he was. While his face and hands were cold, the rest of him did not seem overly frozen. There were no signs of icicles in his clothing or his hair, and his nose and mouth were devoid of any telltale signs of snow bite. She was more than surprised and wondered how he'd managed to keep himself so warm on the exposed and windy glacier.

Sereh bent to the hastily snatched backpack again to gather whatever she could to make a tea or soup. While her back was turned away from him, she heard a small groan and immediately turned back. Whatever Arrow had done to him in her mad dash to get him to the cave had done him little damage because his eyes looked bright and clear and blindingly green when Sereh met them with her own.

She was right; it was Erann – the boy she'd once known in her other life. There was a look of confusion on Erann's face that quickly cleared as he too recognised Sereh,

"What are you doing here?" they both asked each other at the same time. Sereh laughed, and Erann did as well but as he did his face crumpled in pain,

"Oh, my head hurts when I do that. It feels like someone is trying to squash my head into my body".

"Sorry about that. Arrow there's just dragged you all the way across the glacier on her own, and I don't doubt she was less than gentle with you."

Arrow perked up at the sound of her name and Erann looked at her with some surprise and a warm smile on his face.

"So, it's you I have to thank for saving me from wherever I was, is it? Well, thank you, Arrow. You have my heartfelt thanks."

With that, he reached across to ruffle her grey ears, and Sereh couldn't help laughing at just how pleased with herself Arrow looked. If the wolf could have worn an 'I told you so face' then she would have been doing so now.

"So what are you doing here?" she prompted him.

"No, you first, tell me how you came to find me, and where exactly I am?"

Sereh was taken aback by his question. How could he not know where he was? She hesitated and then, hastily gathering her thoughts snapped a reply.

"I'm on an important journey for Jarl Rankil, and you're on Vatna Jokull."

As soon as she uttered the name of Rankil she regretted it. There was no need to mention his name. Erann might not even be aware that she'd been, until three days ago, his servant and virtual slave. Erann didn't react to her accounting of why she was here. He seemed more intrigued by the knowledge of where he was. She prompted him.

"Why, where are you going?"

Erann's face looked slightly pained as he answered her,

"I have to go to Rankil's home. I have to see the healer".

Erann seemed caught up in some inner turmoil and preoccupied. Sereh was just glad that he hadn't heard her small gasp when he mentioned his destination.

"I thought I was coming around Vatna Jokull and not through it. I really can't explain how I came to be here," he mumbled softly to himself.

Sereh was instantly intrigued,

"You must have missed the markers. Which way were you coming from?"

"From my Uncle's steading", Erann said equally quietly to himself. The look on his face alerted Sereh to the fact that he wasn't happy with that answer. She thought he might say more, but instead, he made to sit up so that he could better see his surroundings. He was unsuccessful, his elbows buckling under his weight and he crashed back down to the hard cave floor with a thump that made Sereh wince in sympathy.

"Are you all right, Erann?" Sereh was concerned. He must be more severely affected than she thought by his stay out of doors. How long had he been out there for?

"I think I'm fine thanks. I just thought it would be nice to sit up, but I've changed my mind. I'm just going to lie here and wait while you brew some tea", his voice was a little shaky even though he was trying to sound upbeat. Sereh wondered what had happened to him. She was unsure how much to ask him. She really didn't know him well.

She busied herself making the tea and then handed him a cup filled with the bittersweet mixture in silence. As she did so, she noticed a journal tightly gripped in his hand. He must have had it with him on the glacier. It was a miracle that it was still in his possession after Arrow's antics. Erann noticed her glance, and hastily covered the journal under a fur. He offered no explanation.

Erann greedily drank the warm liquid and then settled back in the makeshift bed looking at Sereh.

"That was wonderful, thank you." His voice sounded stronger.

"Yes. It is. I've not tasted that strand for some time now," she countered, but unable to curb her curiosity she abruptly asked,

"How long do you think you'd been exposed for?"

"I don't think that's overly relevant. However, you do have my sincere thanks for saving me."

Sereh's curiosity now turned to surprise at the underlying anger in his voice. There was no reason for him to get annoyed with her. After all, if it weren't for her and Arrow he'd be shivering to death on Vatna Jokull. Huffing to herself at his tone she turned back to his backpack to see what food supplies he had left. She wondered if she'd be able to make a thin soup from his travel rations. She'd nothing left in her backpack and had been feeling the bite of hunger since she'd woken.

As she dumped the contents of the backpack on the floor with slightly more force than necessary, she glanced at Erann out of the corner of her eye. He was paying no attention to her, and she sighed to herself again. She didn't remember him being so easy to anger. She recalled him as a happy, content and laughing child. She'd watched him on those occasions when the quarter council was in session and had always been surprised by how well he seemed to get on with everyone. He'd been very like his father, with an effortless grace for making conversation. As Ramon had presided over the quarter council, he'd done so with humour and warmth but a strong will which he could call upon to enforce his decisions if the need arose.

Sereh had been envious of Erann. She'd felt out of place amongst so many people, and tongue-tied when anyone had spoken to her. Her father had been the quarter scribe, and as such, she'd had no choice but to attend the council meetings. The noise and presence of so many people had scared her. Erann had always done his best to include her in the games and entertainments arranged for the children. She'd been pathetically grateful for his special attention. She was an only child, a rare thing in their society and had not been very good at playing games or sharing or joining in. He'd made sure that she was fairly treated by the other more boisterous children. She'd felt true pity when his father had been sent into exile, her grief at his loss only overshadowed by her own loss which had followed not soon after. Throughout the last eight rotations, she'd often thought of him. Now she wished she hadn't bothered. It was clear that his harsh life had robbed him of the qualities she'd always so admired.

* * *

She woke from her sleep cold and still very annoyed at Erann. He'd not uttered another word, other than pleasantries on receiving a cupful of soup from her, and her anger had slowly built during the painfully slow evening. It had been a relief when it had been late enough to sleep. She didn't think he'd noticed her annoyance and that had only made it worse. He was caught up with his inner demons and seemed to spare no thought for her, once he'd uttered his thanks.

Her annoyance quickly turned to concern as she realised he was gone and that all the furs were now piled around her. She reached across to touch where he'd lain. It was cold. Wherever he was, he'd been gone for some time. She scrambled to her feet in fear and consternation, getting tangled in the myriad assortment of furs and cloaks.

Her eyes immediately alighted on his backpack propped against the cave wall where she'd hastily repacked it yesterday. If it was still here, then surely he was. He couldn't have left without it. She reached down and pulled her fur cloak from the pile of furs and tugged her arms inside. It was a bitterly cold morning following the further storms of the night before. The fire had long since lost its ability to heat and her breath puffed in front of her face as she hurried.

She hastily stumbled from the cave as Arrow looked at her with mild interest on her face. Arrow didn't bother to get up from her position near the now dead fire, and Sereh felt further infuriation. Couldn't Arrow tell she was worried? Or maybe she knew that he was just outside and that there was nothing to worry about. She hoped as much while feeling that it was a futile hope.

The sun was still low when she burst out of the cave, and the view before her was mist-shrouded and luminescent. It made her eyes tear after the dark of the cave. The sun shone bravely through the low-lying clouds that muted the view before her.

She called Erann's name, and her voice reverberated back to her in the chill air. No other response came back. She cursed softly to herself. Talk about a rude awakening. She glanced back inside the cave. Arrow hadn't moved but was still watching her with her keen glowing, yellow eyes. Sometimes she wished the wolf could talk. She had the distinct feeling that Arrow knew exactly where Erann had gone. He'd seemed to like the wolf yesterday and had probably confided his intentions as he'd sneakily left the cave. If a wolf could look smug, Arrow looked it now.

Sereh stomped along the opening to the cave looking specifically for Erann's footprints in the snow. All she could find was a tangle of prints from where she and Arrow had both rushed in and out of the cave when rescuing Erann. Further, from the entrance, the footprints had been covered by the snowstorm of last night. Then, the sun broke through the mist and highlighted footprints a few wolf lengths in front. The footprints were leading back the way Sereh had come yesterday but were definitely not her own prints as they were much larger.

She sighed loudly in frustration. Where had he gone? Why had he left his backpack? Surely she wasn't that odious a person to be around. And then an insidious fear struck her. Was he heading back the way she'd come? He was heading to Rankil's. He'd admitted as much to her. What if he mentioned that he'd seen her? She'd wanted to tell him the truth of her newfound freedom, only his abruptness had stopped her, and then she'd told more than half a lie. She couldn't stand it if he informed Rankil that she still lived. She would have no peace from him until he found her, and she couldn't run forever with no one to aid her other than her one friend.

What should she do? Should she continue on her way and hope he wouldn't mention her or should she follow him and try to persuade him to keep her secret? He owed nothing to her, apart from his life. Would that be enough to buy his silence?

She wished she knew him better than she did, and that she could predict what his actions would now be. She knew from gossip just how much Erann and his family hated Rankil, and his sister had no qualms in furthering the claims. When she'd married Rankil, she'd made it clear that she didn't hold the same opinions as the rest of her family. They all hated Rankil with a vengeance and thought him a liar and a cheat, with no right to the position of Jarl. Erann was still going to Rankil's to ask for help. Perhaps Aras had over-exaggerated the hatred. Maybe Erann would turn her into Rankil to gain his help?

Her mind was a whirl of thoughts and fears. Arrow chose that moment to slink out of the cave and came to stand beside her, motionless. Sereh absent-mindedly ran her fingers on her right hand through the comforting texture of the coarse fur. She found herself repeating all her arguments out loud, asking Arrow for her opinion. The wolf looked at her with her glowing eyes and then walked a short distance away, to smell Erann's footprints. She then headed back inside the cave. Sereh didn't follow. She was too caught up in her dilemma.

Arrow appeared moments later, with Erann's backpack firmly in her teeth and began to drag it back out onto the glacier, a long the path they'd been following yesterday. Sereh laughed in a sudden rush of relief. Arrow had spoken, in her own way. They would head onwards and trust their secret to Erann. Sereh was not sure he was worthy of the secret. Arrow obviously did. Again, she found herself capitulating to the wolf. Arrow had kept her alive so far.

She reached for Erann's backpack, gently prising it from Arrow's jaws. As she did so, it came open, and a wrapped bundle fell onto the soft snow. She bent and retrieved it. Unfolding the layers of fur and cloth she was surprised to find not food, but the hide journal Erann had been clutching yesterday. Age dulled it and while originally it might have been dyed; it was now no more than a muddy brown colour.

She flicked through the journal, carefully; the pages were smooth to the touch. She found nothing but list after list of numbers. She didn't know what they were for and she didn't much care. However, she did carefully re-wrap the parcel and laid it by the side of the backpack to return it when she'd rifled through the rest of it for food. She had a healthy respect for the written word, even when she didn't understand it. She did wonder why Erann prized it so much and again she was left with the unsettling thought that he had run away from her this morning. The thought filled her with self-loathing. Was she really to be so little regarded? She hoped not but couldn't push the thought away now that it had taken root.

His backpack contained more peat cakes and sealed pots. She'd not noticed yesterday, only grabbing the few things that had been handy and at the top of the pack. She could only assume that the pots contained curdled animal blood. She took some of the peat cakes and cracked the lid on one of the pots. As she had thought, it held curdled blood. It made her stomach clench. However, she was hungry, and this was a free meal. She walked back into the cave, followed by Arrow and placed the pot in the almost cold ashes of the fire and waited for it to, hopefully, warm. Arrow was looking at her expectantly, and she reached over and patted her head,

"I know girl. I know it's not much, but it will fill our bellies for now. Maybe today you'll find an animal or something and then we can feast later when we reach Estrith's."

The thought of warm food now, and hot food and the good company later filled Sereh with hope, and as she mopped the blood up with the peatcakes, she smiled to herself. Forget Erann and his odd behaviour; she didn't need to worry about him, only about what the future held for her and Arrow.

Feeling full for the first time in two days, Sereh carefully repacked the backpack and slung it over her shoulder. It was heavier than her own, and she decided to put it on her back while carrying hers. She marvelled that this was all she had in the world, a full backpack, an almost empty one and a wolf. It wasn't much, but at least it was all her own, nearly.

Calling to Arrow, she left the cave, resolutely walking in the opposite direction to Erann. She hoped that he made it to Rankil's. Other than that she wasn't too keen on him – leaving like that was just simply rude.

It was strange what the rotations had done to him. He looked different. While she'd recognised his face on discovering him, as she'd studied him last night while he'd pretended to sleep she'd realised he was no longer the self-assured boy she'd known.

The rotations had been hard on him and although he was the spitting image of his father in general looks – large, well muscled, lightly bearded and blonde; he had piercing green eyes and carried his few rotations heavily. He seemed much older than he was. It didn't make him unattractive, in fact, quite the opposite. She'd felt drawn to him. Now she resolutely decided to banish him from her thoughts. She had more important things to worry about. Staying alive for one.

She noticed the sun was as high as it was going to get and that she must have lingered longer than she'd intended. The day was freezing, and Sereh gazed again at the sun in wonder. It seemed to be ineffectual against the ice and snow gripping her land so tightly. Whilst she accepted that Vatna Jokull was one of the coldest places on her land, stretching across much of the Eastern quarter and down into the Northern one, she should still have been able to detect the thaw under way, if only through the trickling of the water as the edges of the glacier began to melt. Instead, there was no hint, and snowstorms had covered the land for every night since the sun had first risen. That wasn't right either. What was going on?

Arrow whimpered beside her, and she realised that she'd not started walking, too caught up in her thoughts. Immediately, she and Arrow strode out purposefully. She was hopeful that they'd reach her friend's today, even with the short amount of daylight remaining. The thought put a fresh spring in her step, and weighed down as she was with her own, and Erann's backpack she made good progress over the ice packed glacier.

As the sun began its fast descent, she and Arrow scampered down from Vatna Jokull onto the flatter lowlands that provided good pasture for the animals throughout the Long Day.

Belatedly she wished she'd not lingered so long earlier in the cave. As the light faded, she was going to find it difficult to find Estrith's steading. Momentarily she was torn between staying put for the night and carrying on regardless. Her desire for friendly company and warm food spurred her on and resolutely she set out to where she recalled Estrith living. She was suddenly desperate to be with someone she knew and cared for. Erann's company last night had been less than satisfactory, but it had reminded her of the joys of companionship with like-minded people.

The day turned the deepest velvet as the sun set in a rainbow of purples and cyans. With a cry of relief, Sereh saw a steading on the darkening horizon. It was locked up tight against the continuing bad weather, but she couldn't fault her friend for not having pulled back the wooden shutters hanging over the windows. At this time of the rotation, food and fuel were be in scarce supply, and it was common sense to keep the house Long Night ready for as long as possible.

In a few short weeks, the entire into would be cleansed of its Long Night smell, and she looked forward to helping her friend accomplish the backbreaking work. She hoped that Estrith's husband would let her stay. Then she banished the thought. It wouldn't do to sour the day with her fears. She needed to enjoy today for what it was. Her chance of freedom and a better life away from Rankil and his scheming ways.

She redoubled her efforts, and her breath came fast and out of rhythm as she forced herself onwards, the backpack digging uncomfortably into her shoulder blades, and her own pack hanging limply on the end of her straining fingers.

Only a few more steps she told herself.

She was unaware of anything other than reaching the warmth of her friend's home. She'd even forgotten about Arrow, who'd stopped and was looking apprehensively at the steading.

So engrossed was Sereh on simply getting there that she was almost on top of the building before she realised there was something terribly wrong. The farm looked broken, the roof no longer completely covering the low structure and as she walked ever closer, she could make out the dark wooden skeleton of the house against the stark white of the surrounding snow.

The smell of burning wood and flesh suddenly registered in her exhausted mind. With an anguished cry, she ran the last short distance and then crumpled to the snow covered ground in a sagging, out of breath sob.

The steading was burnt – all of it apart from the annexe. That meant only one thing. Oh Gods, no, she thought frantically to herself. Oh, Gods no. Not Estrith and her husband and her beautiful children. Not her only friend in the world.

Arrow walked past her, busy sniffing around, her tail firmly between her back legs. She was unhappy, and Sereh knew why. The smell of death and decay would be strong for her wolf friend. Sereh staggered to her feet.

She must look.

She must check.

Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe the steading had caught fire accidentally, and everyone had survived in the remaining annexe.

It wasn't a mistake. Even in the cold conditions, she could strongly smell the decaying bodies the fire hadn't totally destroyed.

She stumbled inside the burnt shell of the building through the door hanging haphazardly off its hinges, through the short entrance tunnel that was destroyed at the junction with the door. It looked forlorn in its separated state from the rest of the house.

She immediately saw all she could in the dim light of the coming night. The broken and burnt bodies were discarded where they'd fallen from their beds when the upper level of the farm had collapsed. The blackened frame of the half of the roof of the steading that had survived was skeletal and stark.

The half of the roof still standing groaned ominously under the weight of snow covering the grassed roof. The contrast between the stark white and deepest black imprinted itself on her mind, as she gazed, almost uncomprehendingly, around her. What had happened here? Why were the bodies so disturbed? Why wasn't the building either still standing, or totally burnt down? Who'd done the burning and why, by the Gods, had they not ensured it was done properly?

She stepped further into the remains of the living area and schooled herself not to look at the broken remains of the bodies. Desperately she tried not to see the agonised look on the face of a small boy, tumbled from his bed, his legs still encased in the blankets which had tried to keep him warm in life.

She tried not to look at the double bed where she knew Estrith lay, eyes thankfully closed, but tossed upside down when the second storey of the house had collapsed. All this she tried not to do, while at the same time, looking for some explanation of the bizarre way she now found her friend's steading. Her footsteps crunched as she walked, and she purposefully did not look down. She didn't need to know what she stood on.

Arrow didn't come inside the steading. She was whimpering softly to herself as she stood just clear of the door and outside the isolated tunnel. Her grey-flecked tail held tightly against her back legs; a low growl was coming from her mouth. Sereh wondered if the smell was disturbing her, but thought perhaps not. There seemed to be something else here that her friend didn't like.

Sereh looked at her questioningly while stepping further inside the desolation that had been her friend's home and family. Unbidden, her eyes glanced again at the young boy's face, and she abruptly covered her mouth, fleeing back the way she'd come, brushing past Arrow in her haste to leave the steading and vomit onto the clean snow.

The boy. She'd only swept a glance when she'd first entered, and then resolutely turned away before she could see the ravages of the wolf attack on his face. Only half remained. The remaining eye gazed imploringly at her. The other was missing an ear, an eye, and his brains shone clearly grey in the dim light.

She heaved, and vomited, time and time again. Arrow came to her and offered her support, and she gratefully clutched her faithful wolf to her. Sobbing and heaving in equal measure. What by the Gods had happened here?

Arrow finally left her and walked inside the farm. She was gone for a short time as Sereh forced herself to calmness. Her face was drenched in sweat, and yet she shivered through her heavy layers of furs. Her vomit spread before her, bright red from her previous meal, and as she glanced at it, her stomach further clenched, but there was nothing else to expel from it.

She sunk to her knees in the deep snow and felt the chill of the substance seeping through her trousers, so she hastily stood, wiping off what remained stuck to her knees. She looked around for Arrow, but whatever she was doing, she wasn't yet finished.

Her thoughts returned to what she'd just seen. It looked to her as if her friends had died, and the wolves had attacked the steading. But why was it burnt? She'd looked for footprints today as she'd walked this way, hoping that she'd meet no one now that she was on one of the more commonly travelled paths. She'd seen no one thankful not to be seen by anyone until she'd reached Estrith's and received her acceptance of help.

If no one had walked this way yet, why was the farm burnt, in even such a haphazard fashion? Who could have done it?

She called softly for Arrow. The day was becoming increasingly dark, and she needed to decide where to spend the night. Unusually the wolf didn't come immediately at her summons. Calling again, she walked back towards the doorway of the steading. She didn't want to go back in again and yet felt the need to find her wolf. Surely she was in there. Where else would she have gone?

She halted at the broken door and called more softly for Arrow. She was met by a quiet whine and looking into the now nearly dark room; she could just make out her wolf, crouched over something on the floor. Hope flared momentarily, and she walked boldly into the chamber. Perhaps Arrow had found someone alive.

She hadn't, in fact exactly the opposite. What she had found were the burnt remains of what must have been a massive midnight black wolf. The fur was singed around its face although there seemed to be little other damage apart from what Arrow was doing.

Almost looking apologetically at Sereh, Arrow was worrying at the meat on the wolf's belly, managing to wrench it open with her powerful jaws. Greedily she was eating the meat she'd found there.

Sereh wanted to be disgusted with her. All she was doing was taking advantage of available meat. Sereh looked at her and offered her a small smile. Briskly, she walked away. She shouldn't have gone back inside.

In the distance, the first stars were appearing, and Sereh noted with relief that there were no low-lying snow clouds. It would be a night free of snow, for the first time since the Sun had first risen, but that would make it bitterly cold. She needed to find shelter for the night, and it was not going to be amongst the burnt and broken home of her friend.

In the last light of the day, her eye focused on the still standing annexe. It was attached to the main steading, but the fire had stopped well short of it. She called softly to Arrow again, and this time heard her soft footfalls padding towards her. When the wolf drew level, she placed her nose inside Sereh's hand, as if asking for forgiveness.

"Come on girl. It's no matter. You were only doing what needed to be done to stay alive. Let's see if we can find shelter inside the annexe. I'm not going back in there," and here she jerked her head in the direction of the half standing steading, "and we must find shelter for the night. We can't make it back to our cave of last night. The stars aren't bright enough."

She hefted her abandoned backpack into place, and picked up the other one, dragging it behind her as she walked to where she suspected the outer door to the annexe stood. As she went, she glanced at the structure before her. It appeared sound enough to survive a night with her inside.

She trudged through the slush created by the fire, frozen hard again, to the entrance to the standing annexe. She pushed open the door, and, it swung inwards easily. Arrow nipped past her feet, her nose to the ground and cautiously sniffed the entire place. She let out no whine of concern and Sereh followed her in, dumping the backpacks abruptly on the floor.

The place seemed sheltered and reasonably sturdy, but, she tested the structure just to be on the safe side, leaning hard on the doorframe. Satisfied she went inside pulling the door closed behind her.

Complete darkness descended, and Arrow yelped in surprise. Sereh re-opened the door a fraction and scooted about in her borrowed backpack looking for Erann's heat stone. She found it and placed it on the floor. A dull orange glow appeared, and Sereh pulled the door shut again. There was a wooden lock that she slipped through the holders to either side of the door. She was taking no chances. She didn't fancy being the live part of a wolf feast if they chose to return.

That done she dragged the by now excruciatingly heavy backpacks to the back wall and leaning against it, slowly sank to the dry dirt floor. Her thoughts were a blur of conflicting images, hopes and realities. In her deepest heart, she, grieved for her only friend and her family while her head thought only of herself. What was she to do now? Where would she go? Who could she turn to?

She realised she was crying great, dry, hacking tears and Arrow slid up to her to offer what support she could. Sereh pulled the warm wolf's body towards her and cried into her white and black fur, only becoming aware of Arrow's moulting when great handfuls of fur came away in her hands and made her sneeze uncontrollably. It wasn't easy to sneeze and sob at the same time. Somehow, Sereh managed it competently.

After what seemed a long time, her grief quietened, and, her sneezing subsided. Arrow looked at her with sorrowing yellow eyes and sat, practically on her lap. Sereh's stomach rumbled, and she hiccupped a laugh.

Pulling open Erann's backpack she extracted a pot of curdled blood and more peat cakes. She stood, a bit unsteadily and walked to the heat stone. Putting Arrow's moulted fur on it, she also pulled up some dry animal bedding from the corner of the annexe to add to her pitiful fire. It would do to warm the blood and then she'd sleep. She didn't want to risk going outside for wood or turf from the burnt remains of the steading. It was too dark, and she worried the ravaging wolves would be back by now.

The presence of the wolves made her fearful. It was rare for them to come to the habited area. Normally they fended for themselves in the colder and less accessible Odedahraun range. If they were foraging here, then their food supplies must have run desperately low as well.

Just how long had the Long Night lasted this rotation? If her friends were dead and the wolves were straying it must have been considerably longer than she'd realised, even with the age of the baby when she'd left him. The thought gave her some comfort. She fought to control a fresh batch of tears as she thought of the tiny baby she'd been forced to expose. She hoped he'd not suffered before he died.

Her meal was barely warm when she decided she could wait no longer. She and Arrow ate quickly and silently. Sereh found it hard just to chew. So much had changed since the excitement of her morning meal; she found herself forcing the food down and purposefully not thinking of what it had looked like when it'd come back up again earlier.

Arrow didn't share her despair, happily munching on her food before curling up next to Sereh ready to sleep. Sereh stroked her wolf affectionately. She'd fed well that day, and she was pleased for her. The last few days had been hard on her, as used to deprivation as she was.

Sereh finally finished forcing herself to eat, found her fur from her backpack and settled down to sleep. She hoped sleep would come quickly while doubting that it would. She was wrong. In only a few heartbeats her eyes fell shut, and she thankfully dreamt of nothing.

* * *

A scrabbling noise startled her wide awake and immediately she saw Arrow, upright and rigid, in front of her, her yellow eyes whirling angrily. She'd no idea what part of the night it was, but from the supreme effort it'd taken to open her eyes, she knew she couldn't have been asleep for long. Her eyes were burning, heavy and itchy.

She feared she knew what had woken her and as a howl split the night, her fears were confirmed. The wolves, they were back. She looked about desperately in the remaining light from the small fire. The wooden door was still closed, and she couldn't hear the furtive sounds of animals immediately outside. She hoped that the wolves were at the site of the destroyed steading, but there was no way of checking without going outside herself, and she had no intention of doing that.

Frantically scouring the small space, she caught sight of a ladder to the left that disappeared in the darkness above. Hopefully, there was a loft above her head. She pushed herself up and walked on legs grown heavy with fear and fatigue to the ladder.

She tried the bottom two rungs with her sealskin boot and then, deciding it was safe, climbed. The area she alighted upon was small, just big enough for her and Arrow to shelter on. Idly she wondered what it'd been used for storing.

Quickly she returned to the ground floor and grabbed hold of Arrow, who was stood quietly whining, her tail firmly down between her back legs, keen for a fight. She stood rigid and unmoving, sensing where the wild wolves were. Sereh pulled her roughly by the neck and finally, after much tugging, the stubborn wolf started to move. Sereh pointed up the ladder, and Arrow looked at her balefully, keen to refuse. Sighing, Sereh bent and picked her up bodily, flinging the large wolf over her shoulder before climbing laboriously upwards.

She was not leaving Arrow alone to face her wilder siblings. She neared the top, out of breath and trembling from the exertion. Arrow climbed off her, with some dignity, and Sereh crested the last rungs before collapsing in a quiet heap on the floor of the loft area.

She grabbed the ladder and pulled it up beside them. She was taking no risks. Arrow looked at her darkly. Sereh felt no remorse. There was too much wild wolf in Arrow. She'd want to confront the other wolves, and Sereh had to keep her safe. She was her only friend now.

The single solitary howl of the wolf that had rung out earlier was joined by a cacophony of further wolf calls, and Sereh trembled as she clung to the rigid shape of Arrow. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

At some point, she must have fallen asleep as she woke later, stiff and cold. Arrow was awake but quiet at her side, keeping her warm as best she could.

Sereh couldn't be sure, but she thought some sunlight was leaking through the structure of the annexe as it seemed lighter despite last night's fire having long since burnt out.

She grabbed the ladder and clumsily swung it back into position, almost falling in her efforts, before gingerly climbing down. Arrow jumped down, not wanting to be carried again, and gave her an "I can do it myself" look.

Moving to the door, she removed the wooden lock, opening it a minuscule amount. Sunlight blinded her. Good, it was daytime. The wolves would be long gone. Opening the door wide, Arrow streaked past her before she could even think to restrain her for her own good. She followed Arrow out and found her sniffing the tangled remains of the steading. Sereh decided she didn't want to look inside again. She didn't wish to feel the burn from last night's meal as it repeated on her.

Instead, she turned and returned to her temporary shelter of the night before. She retrieved her backpack and hoisted Erann's onto her back. As she did so, the wrapped package containing his journal tumbled out. She bent to retrieve it and found her fingers unwrapping the package and almost reverentially running her hands over the soft brown cover and cream silky pages inside.

Curiosity drove her to flick through the journal, noting the neat columns of numbers, and the handwriting, so similar throughout the fifty or so pages that were filled. The only indication of the age of the writing was the faded ink at the front, brightening as she neared the last written page.

She flicked back to the beginning of the journal, noting the four rows of numbers, and then again, to the back. She was right. At the back of the journal, there were only two columns of numbers. Intrigued she sank to her knees on the cold floor and slowly scanned each page, in turn, starting from the back.

Page after page revealed itself, rows of two columns detailing almost the same number in each column. As she neared the middle of the written pages the number 175 fell neatly on both columns. As she neared the front the number on the one column increased to the detriment of the other and then, with only a few pages to go, there were four columns of numbers, each with a number close to 90. Again, the columns all contained almost the same number. What did it all mean?

She quickly turned to the back page again and noted that here the numbers on the left-hand column were slowly creeping up, while those on the right moved down. Whichever way she looked at the numbers, they all added up to about 350, give or take a number or two.

Intrigued she asked herself why there were so many pages of numbers. She wondered if it was some sort of reckoning exercise Erann had been taught as a child. Or was it perhaps a game he played? Then she felt a flash of inspiration and made a snap decision. She must find Erann. She must ask him about the journal. Shrugging aside the truth that she had nowhere else to go, she acted decisively.

Moving outside the annexe to the shell of her friend's home, she quickly kindled a fire using Erann's heat stone and more of Arrow's fur. In the windless and frigid day, the fire spread quickly along what remained of the brittle wooden frame. She heard the hiss of the snow-covered roof as it melted under the fresh onslaught of the flames. Then, with a few quiet words of remembrance, she turned and walked away, back almost the way she'd come in hope only yesterday. She vowed to find a reason to maintain her otherwise solitary existence and one that, hopefully, involved Erann and the answer to the riddle of his journal.

Chapter 4 - Companions

She was working from memory, and she gravely feared it was not as good as she'd initially given it credit for. While she'd been to Erann's home before, it had been an incredibly long time ago, and from the direction of her home, not Estrith's. Vaguely she recalled the map of the quarters from her time when her father had proudly owned one, and it had been a source of treasure in his wooden chest. Again, it had been a long time ago.

With the weather so severe and her resources practically non-existent she couldn't afford to become lost or unduly delayed. Her life and Arrow's depended on it.

After her harrowing visit to Estrith's, she'd travelled around the edge of Vatna Jokull, in the direction she believed Erann's home lay. In her mind's eye, she remembered a small amalgamation of steadings near Estrith's, and she'd shied away from them on purpose. She'd not wanted to risk finding another family who'd perished during the terrible Long Night. However, in avoiding it, she'd lost confidence in her bearings and now felt the faint stirrings of panic in the pit of her stomach. Her fear of being lost was warring with her rumbling stomach and was making her feel ill.

In the distance, she could hear the faint trickle of running water and hoped that meant she was close to Olafsfjord. If it was Olafsfjord, she was going in the right direction. However, it was equally likely to be Sweinsfjord, and if it was, she was travelling in completely the wrong direction, and it would take her at least another full day to reverse her mistake.

She'd been walking uphill, for what felt like forever, and while Arrow seemed exuberant about their excursion, she was less than pleased. Eventually, she reasoned, she'd have to go downhill, but it didn't detract from the agony in her shins now, or the discomfort of the sweat dripping down her back and her face and into her eyes.

It felt surprisingly warm as she walked, but she knew that her physical efforts were masking how cold it was. Once she stopped moving or went downhill, a chill would quickly set in. As such, she was purposefully not taking off her heavy fur cloak even though it was sweltering. The cold would be quick to attack her if she did discard some of her heavy layers.

Her breath was steaming in the cool air in front of her while her throat ached from its frigidity. Although the thaw was certainly beginning in places, on the lee side of Vatna Jokull it was freezing and the air temperature so low that nothing could melt.

The previous night had been cloudless and freezing; the stars and the planets, pristine in the twilit dusty sky. It had been beautiful, or at least, it had been until Sereh had realised how cold it was and that she'd nothing to add to the heat stone to make a fire. Instead, she'd been reduced to holding it tight to her body all night long, Arrow on her exposed side.

The wind had screeched over the steeply rising ground, and the sky had remained clear. She'd finally slept huddled on her side, only to wake shortly afterwards, shivering uncontrollably. Arrow had tried to keep her warm, but it had been useless.

Eventually, she'd retreated as far as she could into the back of the cave Arrow had found. She'd huddled in a corner away from the freezing draughts and the onslaught of the wind. In her semi-delirious state she'd convinced herself that the rocks themselves were warm and had laid her wind-chapped cheek on the rocky floor as she vainly hugged it for warmth, she'd convinced herself was there. Arrow had again laid against her back and only then had she slept the night through, only to wake aching from her awkward position. She'd wanted to laugh at herself for her late-night imaginings of the rocks being warm; however, she couldn't deny that they'd still felt lukewarm to the touch of her frigid digits.

She'd eaten a sparse breakfast of curdled blood and a peat cake, shared with Arrow, before returning outside to a blindingly bright day. It had been crystalline with a thick frost, making the snow crunch as she walked over its purple surface.

Now the day was again drawing to a close, the sun setting in a profusion of deep purples and bottomless pinks. It was a truly beautiful sight, and Sereh promised herself that when she reached the peak of this particular hill, she'd stop and admire it. If she were correct in her directions, she'd only have a short journey down into a more secluded and hopefully, cave strewn valley, where she'd be able to spend the interminable night in more comfort than the previous evening. If she was wrong, she could be almost anywhere.

With relief, and a final protest from her screaming lungs and aching shins, she reached the peak. Arrow was already there, having a good sniff around. Sereh hoped she'd catch something. It'd be good to have a change in their bland diet. Her relief increased further when she took in the view and realised that she was in the right place after all. Her memory had been correct. Thank the Gods.

She stood, hands on hips, looking at the view before her. From the height of the hill, she could see much of the northern part of the eastern quarter arrayed before but there were few details, just the expanse of unending white as the ground was shaded a dark purple by the setting sun.

She looked behind her and to the west. The sun was a dazzling ball of deepest orange, accompanied by a deep streak of blue and then a higher one in green. The view made her catch her breath and to inadvertently think of Erann and why she'd chosen to find him, the colour of the sky reminding her of his deep green eyes.

She was still angry with him for leaving her, but right now he was the only hope for her future and so she found her feelings towards him difficult to interpret. She was annoyed; she was hopeful, and if she was honest with herself, she was also looking forward to seeing him again.

It had been rotations since she'd last seen him, and yet somehow she'd recognised known him on sight, even if that sight had been of him, unconscious, on the glacier. She'd been pleased to help him, more than pleased, and she wondered why.

They'd never been close. Yes, he'd made efforts to include her in games as a child on the occasions when they'd met, but that had been it. So why did she now feel drawn to him? Why did she look to him for hope when there was no other chance of hope? Examining her motives from some angles, she eventually decided that it must be because they were both victims of Rankil and his games. There could be no other explanation.

As she clambered down from the crest of the mountain she was gratified that tomorrow she'd see him again, and hopeful, that somehow, he would help her.

She easily found a cave for the night, and Arrow helpfully appeared with a small dead hare that would provide both food and fuel for the fire once it had been gutted. Later, feeling sated Sereh lay down to sleep wrapped in her fur and with her wolf at her feet. As she did, she decided the outlook for tomorrow was certainly improved on that of today, or any other day recently, for that matter.

* * *

She woke early the next day, feeling energised in a way that had been lacking since she'd found her friend and family dead. She'd slept deeply and well, without waking from the discomfort of cold or from being in an uncomfortable position. Again, the floor of the cave had felt warm against her body when she'd settled down for the night and still did when she woke. She shook her head in wonderment. There'd been so many instances now that she felt sure that she couldn't be imagining it, as stupid as she felt even thinking it. Warm floors accounted for the caves she'd found being free of ice, whereas everywhere else was snow or ice enshrined. What caused the heat was another matter entirely and one she couldn't think about, deciding it was best to be grateful and not question her luck.

She'd dreamt as she slept, of warmth and good food, so that when she woke she was calm and cocooned, eager to start her day's journeying. Arrow was keen, neither feeling the need to eat before they left. She did however down the tepid water she'd left to melt in the ashes of the fire. For all the snow surrounding her, she knew she was dehydrated from her brisk march.

There'd been no snowstorm last night, or the night before, and she was hopeful that the freak storms that had initially raged so forcefully each night, had ended. Instead, it had been a blisteringly cold night, and she walked out of her cave to be greeted with snow that sparkled with frost even in the early morning light. It'd be slippery to walk on, and she reached down and ensured her snowshoes were tightly laced to her sealskin boots. She didn't want to slip and injure herself.

She did, however, want to make good time, and it was not fully light when she crested the last rise and looked down on the snug valley where Erann's home lay. His steading was the only one that sheltered under the overhanging mountain and looked to be almost part of the mountain itself. His family had always lived alone, the nearest neighbour separated from them by either mountain or river.

A smile split her face and then widened as she saw a figure trudging up to the entrance of the steading. It was Erann; it had to be.

She raced down the slope before her, Arrow following swiftly behind. She slipped and slid in her haste to reach him, only righting herself when she reached the bottom of the slope.

Erann had looked shocked when he'd first noticed her, and not a little scared. Now his eyes bored into hers, and she felt her smile of welcome freeze on her face. She looked openly at him, and he looked back at her with evident surprise on his face.

"What are you doing here?" his tone more aggressive than inquisitive.

"I came to give you this, and to ask you about it," she slipped the backpack free from her bag and pulled the journal from it. Relief spread across his face, and he eagerly stepped forward to take the journal from where she held it out to him.

His fingers brushed hers as he took it and a shock ran through her frozen fingers, a pleasant ache humming in its wake. His face, which on seeing her had seemed drawn and haggard, brightened as he greedily ran his fingers over the binding of the journal. She decided to ignore his initial surly question.

"Where did you find this?" he asked in his more characteristic soft voice.

"You left it in your backpack when you left me on the glacier". As hard as she tried, the bitterness in her voice gave away her feelings about the whole sorry episode.

His face scrunched in pain at her words, clouding at the reminder of the event.

"Yes, about that. I'm very sorry you know but I... I didn't know why I was there, or rather how I got there. In fact, I still don't, and I thought that maybe you would run back to Rankil and tell him about our strange meeting and I couldn't have that. My relationship with the man is complicated enough as it is, without tales of my aimless wanderings reaching his ears. I didn't know, and you didn't say that you were running away from him. I know now. I know all about what happened with you and him, and I'm sorry. Sorrier than you can ever know. At the time. At that moment," he stumbled, starting again with a calming breath.

"When I woke up in the morning and realised that I had no idea how I arrived at the glacier, I panicked and thought I needed to get far away from you. I did do the right thing – but I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I'm just glad that in the rush, I left the backpack with you, otherwise, you wouldn't have survived, would you?"

The words rushed out almost without pause and Sereh struggled to keep up with what he was telling her. She supposed it did make sense, but it didn't stop her feeling resentful towards him. After all, he'd left her while she slept and for the first few moments when she'd woken she'd worried that he'd wondered off again. That fear had intensified when she'd realised he'd left his backpack.

Her unease had quickly turned to fear as she'd noticed where his tracks had led. She'd been disturbed that he was going to Rankil's and fearful that he'd turn her in; that Rankil would come looking for her. In fact, until this moment she'd still been unsure of his intentions.

She was a little hurt that he was adamant he'd done the right thing in walking away. But in the spirit of mutual reconciliation, she decided to let it pass. It was rare to meet someone who was pleased to see her. It filled her with a warm glow she'd never experienced before. Still, his words of greeting concerned her.

"What do you mean, you know all about Rankil and me?"

"My sister told me about what he made you do, about what he did to you." He said it in a very matter of fact way, and yet she sucked in her breath at the knowledge that he'd bothered to find out about her. She gave him an encouraging look to go on.

"Nobody should be made to do that, unless to their own child and it is their own decision. I don't know how you did it, well that's not true. I do know how you did it. You did it because you had no choice. It must've been terrible, and I understand why you ran away when you had the chance. What I don't understand is how you survived that night or how I survived the night on the glacier," he muttered in a quiet voice.

Sereh smiled to herself,

"I know how I survived the night. There's no mystery there. Arrow found a cave, and we slept in it – keeping each other warm. Not that that helps you. I don't know how you survived. Have you remembered nothing?"

Erann looked at her with an unfathomable expression on his face and then dropped his flashing jade eyes back down to the journal he was clutching in his hands. Sereh waited patiently, but after a long moment, she realised that an answer would not be forthcoming.

"Why are you here? Why have you come home alone?"

Again, Erann's eyes glanced at her face, appraising her, before he spoke slowly.

"After my time with Rankil, I had... concerns about his intentions towards my family, so I decided to come here. I've a feeling that he has plans for this steading."

Sereh couldn't keep the shocked expression from forming on her face,

"Nobody has done anything like that for hundreds of rotations. Our society abhors violence, condemns it with every rule and law we live by. I know that Rankil's unscrupulous, cowardly and over keen of the sound of his own voice. Surely he couldn't be intending more depravities against your family?"

Erann barked out a short bitter laugh before quickly smothering it.

"Rankil is as bad as all the villains in our history combined. Oh, he says the right things and comes across as a decent Jarl. Deep down he's plotting, and he always has been. I believe my sister's words. He kills his own children ..." at that Sereh flinched, "he takes what isn't his, and he's managed to bring about my father's exile. This is not a man who baulks at anything. He has some plan, something that I don't understand, but he has planned it, and the Gods know where it will end. I think he's coming to take this farm," Erann pointed at the steading nestled protectively into the side of the valley, "which has been in my family for many generations, and then I imagine he'll burn it down as a warning to all those who oppose his wishes."

Sereh was appalled. Her people were mostly peaceful; few had weapons and even those who did used them for ironmongery or farming. What could possess Rankil to act in this way?

The stories she'd read about her people in the past were all at pains to show that everyone needed to work together to survive their harsh land. Not a single one of the sagas she'd read so much as mentioned actual violence, only ever the threat, and more often than not, the failure of that threat.

For all the terrible things that Rankil had done, she couldn't help but question Erann's words. It made no sense to take another's lands – especially when they were so distant from his own. He couldn't possibly hope to farm them both at the same time. It was an impossibility.

"Why would he want your steading? What help can it be to him?"

Anger flashed in Erann's eyes,

"It's the symbolism of the thing. He's trying to be my father. He's sent him into exile, taken his daughter to wife and now he wants to take the physical home of the Jarl of the Eastern Quarter. With it, in his hand's people will have no one to turn to. They'll have to accept Rankil's words and actions, as they have been for the last eight rotations."

"At the moment and even in our weak and feeble condition, we, I mean my mother, brother and me, could stand as opponents to him. Even though we cannot participate in gift giving any more, if he upsets other farmers then they can come to us and pledge their support to us and against him. He can't allow that to happen. He's constantly battling tradition and precedent with his every move. He wants us gone. He wants my mother dead, my home torn apart and my brother and I left as useless hanger-on's, dependent on other people's generosity to survive. You should've seen his face when Aras asked if the herb woman could come and nurse my mother. He looked like he'd just swallowed curdled milk from last rotations store."

Sereh could imagine what he'd looked like. Rankil wore an almost permanent sneer that could be exasperated by anything spoken in his presence that he didn't want to hear. Erann hadn't finished, though,

"I came to check, to make sure that everything that could be moved from the steading had been moved. I also came to search for my journal."

As he spoke a smile lit his face, and his tone was gentle, so different from his first heated words.

"Thank you for bringing it back to me – it's far more than I deserve." His sincerity couldn't be doubted.

Sereh found herself smiling in return.

"It's no bother. It's not as if I had anywhere else to go. Anyway, I had to try and figure out what you might have told Rankil, and I thought the best way to do that was to ask you."

"You know, you could have told me what had happened to you. I would have tried to help. Although, I guess, I didn't hang around long enough for you to tell me anything. Come inside. I want to check everything, and then I need to decide where to go from here. I imagine you do as well."

Sereh looked at him hesitantly before following him into the squat, turf roofed steading. She realised he was right. She'd given no thought to her actions after this day, and he didn't seem to be including her in his plans for his future. What would she do now?

Now that she'd given Erann back the journal, albeit without yet asking him about its contents, she had no plans. She meant to ask him about it, but he seemed too preoccupied right now. She'd ask him when they parted ways. Right now, she needed to decide what was going to do with herself?

Like all steadings, the entrance to Erann's was through a small tunnel, linked to the main house. In the Long Night, it had an outer door at the entry of the tunnel, a double door system that worked to keep heat in and the cold out. Now the outer door was hinged back, so they only had to walk through the inner doors.

Inside it was exactly as she remembered it from her early childhood. The floor was raised wooden boards, apart from around the hearth, which was placed on a number of huge flat rocks to keep the constant damp from touching the most vital piece of equipment in the whole steading. The room looked tired and dirty, and Sereh could see how it'd suffered from privation just like the rest of the Olafssons. The place looked haggard. She couldn't help wondering, and worrying about what Erann's mother looked like. His sister had appeared well, but now she questioned Aras' serenity as Rankil's wife. Maybe they'd been more going on than she'd realised.

Erann had walked into his home before her and was busy stuffing scripts into another backpack using the aged wooden table to steady both the scripts and the backpack. Idly, she wandered over to him. His face was like stone as he pushed the tightly curled scripts into his backpack. She wondered if he'd also put the journal in because it was no longer on the table.

"This is our families' history and there's no way that Rankil's going to get hold of it and manipulate it to his own ends.

His voice sounded flat and dead, and Sereh understood his grief. What do you do when everything you ever held dear disintegrates to dust? What makes you get up every new sunrise and go to sleep at sunset? She knew she didn't have the answers and also knew that she'd never analysed her own actions too much. If she had, she knew she'd be horrified by what she found. Routine was all that'd been left to her after her parent's death, and now she didn't even have that anymore.

So just what was she going to do with herself? She'd managed to evade Rankil but had only survived a week alone with the aid of Erann's backpack. What would she do now? Who could she turn to? Her determination to seek out Erann now seemed insignificant in light of her bigger problems.

Almost as if Erann heard her thoughts he looked at her and said,

"Will you help me?" his voice was quiet but determined.

She just managed to stop herself saying yes immediately because she realised he had more to say.

"Will you help me take these to the Librarian? He'll know what to do with them and will ensure that the truth can always be found no matter what lies Rankil perpetuates about my family." His voice turned deeply bitter as he spoke.

She answered, "Yes", albeit in a hushed whisper. Somehow she felt she was agreeing to something more than just a trip to the Librarian, almost as if she'd pledged her life to him. She shook the thought away irritably.

She collected the backpack she'd been using from near the table where she'd dumped it and began sliding scripts inside it. Arrow came to sniff around to see what was happening and at that moment her stomach gave an almighty and very audible rumble. Arrow looked at Sereh apologetically, and Erann's face grew even more severe.

"Of course, we'll need provisions if we're going to journey to the Librarian, I'd completely forgotten. Thanks for reminding me, girl."

Arrow walked up to Erann and wagged her tail hopefully. A small smile lit his otherwise blank face, and he reached down to pat her on the back.

"Come on girl; there must be something in the cold store. There always has been before", he whispered quietly, which Sereh thought a little odd.

Without so much as a backwards glance at Sereh, Arrow followed Erann back to the cold store set deeply into the ground in the entranceway. Sereh smiled to herself. As loyal as Arrow was if food were involved she'd be off with Rankil.

She continued to pack her backpack with care. She had a reverence for old scripts and didn't want to damage them when they'd survived for so long. As she worked, she was aware of Erann returning to his task and of Arrow happily wolfing down some sort of meat. At this time of the rotation, it was best to ask few questions about what was being eaten. As Arrow looked content, she decided that she didn't need to know what it was.

From Erann's actions, Sereh assumed he wasn't planning on staying long within his own steading and silently steeled herself for another trip in the frozen and ice locked landscape. Busy thinking her own thoughts and enjoying the comfortable silence between the three of them, not that Arrow was chewing that quietly, she suddenly heard voices coming from outside.

Erann looked towards the door in alarm and Arrow abandoned her meal in favour of standing poised for a fight, a low growl escaping her mostly closed mouth, only her canines showing. Erann ran to the entrance tunnel and looked outside.

"Whoever it is isn't here just yet. It's a very still day, and I think the voices are carrying a long way. Quick, we must get out of here".

Sereh grabbed both backpacks and started towards the tunnel. Erann ran back and snatched up the last handful of scripts trying to stuff them into the already very full backpack. Sereh watched him take a last look around his family's home and then, happy he was leaving nothing for anyone to find, he sprang out of his door, Arrow hot on his heels.

* * *

Arrow loped along happily behind Erann, as he strode confidently in front of her, heading back to Vatna Jokull. Sereh couldn't quite bring herself to pick up enough speed to walk by his side. His strange behaviour of moments ago had unnerved her and she didn't want to attempt to make small talk with him when her mind was so pre-occupied.

She was trying to be kind to him, to excuse his behaviour as he'd been through a traumatic time watching Rankil's men burn his steading down but his standing completely still and staring at nothing had been eerie. His heated questions about being able to see 'something' which she couldn't see had added to her confusion. Coupled with him still not knowing how he'd come to be on Vatna Jokull, she was beginning to think that he might be suffering from something a bit more worrying than a selective memory. Shaking her head to herself, she decided to banish her worries. In their current predicament, it wouldn't do if they didn't trust each other.

She didn't run to catch him up immediately, finding herself caught up in just watching him walk. For all the tragedies that had befallen him, he walked with an easy confidence, and she found herself fascinated by the view of his back as he strode in front of her. So engrossed in the view before her she only just managed to avert her eyes when he turned to look at her quizzically,

"Are you walking with me or behind me?" he asked conversationally. He'd apparently already forgotten about his strange behaviour, acting as though he'd not acted oddly. She could feel herself starting to blush but mustered a hasty reply to cover her embarrassment,

"Well if you'd slow down a bit I could catch you up," she countered, a little aggressively. Erann stopped walking all together at that and stood to wait for her to catch up. She felt flustered at being trapped in the act of watching him and then even more flustered because then she felt her eyes drawn to his face and his expression was speculative. She looked away, trying to cover her embarrassment and heard a muffled thud.

Turning back she found Erann sprawled on his front in an undignified heap. She couldn't help herself, after the tensions of the day, she just burst out laughing. Erann was plainly not hurt because she could hear him muttering about the Gods under his breath. Still laughing she went to him and offered him her hand. He gratefully took it as he struggled backwards onto his heels and then onto his feet.

Cursing aloud this time he walked back a few steps and bent down. Sereh was intrigued and walked closer to him. He cleared some snow from something in front of him to reveal a piece of stone.

"Is that a marker?" Sereh asked, her curiosity making her voice a little high.

"It certainly looks like it? But who had land out here? It's the start of Vatna Jokull. Nobody can farm here and as far as I know no one ever has. It's too close to the glacier for anything to grow."

As Erann talked he was busily uncovering as much of the marker as he could, all the way down to the glassy layer of permafrost. It shone inky in the pale sunlight.

Sereh knew she'd seen something like the marker before, on the first day of her freedom. The stone looked to be the same impenetrable black like the cave she'd sought shelter within the night of the snowstorm, the stone absorbing the light instead of reflecting it. Erann's voice broke into her reverie, and it was filled with awe,

"I've never seen anything like it. The script is intriguing. For all that I hated to study, this looks nothing like anything I've ever seen. Have you?"

Sereh had a split second to decide, and at that moment she warred with herself. It seemed as though they'd mutually decided to trust each other and he'd assured her that he'd not told Rankil she was still alive. All the same, she felt a little apprehensive around him. She couldn't put her finger on what it was that made her feel unsure. She reasoned, she had no one else to trust and nowhere else to go, so why keep secrets from him? With her mind made up, she turned to him and began to speak only to notice that he was staring off at nothing again with a perplexed expression on his face and one hand resting on top of the marker. Feeling aggrieved she bent down to further examine the stone.

It was cut to a size of about six hands high and four across, or at least, that was what was visible of it now. It would certainly extend further beneath the permafrost. Just to be sure she laid her hand on the stone and counted across. As she did so, she became aware of the depth of the inscription. She stopped counting hands, removed her gloves and instead prodded the inscription with her little finger.

It didn't feel cold to the touch, and she was amazed to discover that she could put her entire fingernail inside the pattern. It didn't look that deep when she just looked at it. She laid her finger back on the stone and began tracing the curling image with her finger. Again she was confounded. She'd never seen carvings so intricate amongst her people. She'd seen many, many examples of scripts and sculptures but nothing like this before. Her father had taught her well before his untimely death and had even hinted that her future lay with the Librarian as his apprentice, as his had done before his marriage.

Abruptly Erann again gasped, and Sereh knew that he was back with her. She was almost desperate to ask him questions and to find out what he saw when his dazzling eyes roamed. Feigning disinterest instead she decided to ignore his strange outburst – that would be the third today – and to draw his attention back to the stone.

"Yes, I've seen this pattern before," she stated calmly.

Erann looked at her with his unfathomable penetrating green eyes,

"Where, where have you seen this script?" he said, a strange urgency to his voice.

"It was on the walls of the cave I stopped in on the night of the storm; it kept me alive that night. I think it's probably made from the same stone. Have you seen how it doesn't seem to reflect the light?"

Erann hadn't taken his eyes off the stone as Sereh talked. He now raised his head to look at her face.

"That's a strange observation to make".

Sereh shook her head in frustration, who was he to talk about strange with his little outbursts?

Erann was tracing his own finger through the swirls of the inscription with a troubled expression on his face. There was silence for a few moments apart from Arrow's rather loud breathing. Sereh noticed with amusement that she was practically salivating in Erann's face. She wouldn't imagine that the smell was pleasant. But Erann didn't seem to notice. A large piece of slobber slipped from Arrow's mouth and landed on Erann's hand, and Sereh grinned to herself. Erann distractedly whipped his hand in the snow his focus totally on the marker stone in front of him.

Sereh distracted herself by standing and looking at the astounding view that surrounded her. The snow-capped mountains of Snaefell were amazing, the scope of their soaring majesty hard to comprehend. She imagined what it would be like to climb those huge mountains and to see her land stretched before her, like a giant patchwork quilt.

She was snapped from her reverie by Erann's low voice,

"I think we should go to your cave. I believe we need to look at these inscriptions more carefully. Would you be able to take me back there?"

Sereh was unnerved. The cave was dangerously close to Rankil's home and with the weather improving, all be it extremely slowly, there would be more people about. The intensity in Erann's eyes seemed to burn. She knew she would take him without thinking about it. She just wished she wouldn't.

Finally, Erann tore himself away from the marker stone and looked about him with new eyes.

"Come, we should walk further before we seek shelter for the night. The further we get towards the glacier today, the closer we'll be to the cave tomorrow."

Nodding in agreement, Sereh walked beside him, watching Arrow stride out in front of them, searching for creatures that just might have left their Long Night hibernation. She wished she could be as carefree as her wolf, but worry hounded her every step. What if Rankil discovered she wasn't dead? What if?

* * *

For once, the sunlight came early the following day, and they were packed up and on their way in little time. They made good progress as they journeyed across Vatna Jokull.

Arrow was loping along untroubled by anything and Sereh had to smile, despite her dread of what was to come. She hadn't been able to shake a feeling of imminent disaster all morning and knew that Erann had picked up on her bad mood and was blaming himself. His strange behaviour yesterday was still rankling her, and she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she wasn't angry with him because she thought that maybe she was. After all, it was his fault they were coming so close to Rankil's, and it would be his fault if she was caught and had to return to her imprisonment.

They walked in a reasonably companionable silence broken only by their heavy breathing and Arrow's occasional yelps and barks as she frightened some small creature from its hibernation home. She never gave chase happy to stay close by Sereh's side.

Sereh was pleased a few small animals were waking from hibernation. She wondered what they were eating, though. There'd been no hint of a green shoot anywhere and what few trees and bushes she'd seen on her travels, were stunted and hugged low to the ground, with no new growth to speak of. She told herself it had only been seven days since sunrise, but in her heart, she knew that it didn't bode well for the season ahead. Not when she added the knowledge to the realisation that the Long Night had been so many weeks longer than usual.

The weather was still too raw for the thaw to have started in earnest around Vatna Jokull and the going was easy over the hard packed snow. The lack of green shoots that had bothered her only moments before was quickly forgotten. The hard packed snow made the going far easier than if the thaw had started. As much as she'd have liked to drag her feet and delay the inevitable, she was equally desperate to get it over and done with.

They were currently walking below one of the largest mountains that surrounded Vatna Jokull. She couldn't remember its name and was loath to ask Erann as she didn't want to be the first to break the silence between them. She was busy making up names for the mountain in the hope that one of them would feel 'right' and she'd know that she had somehow stumbled upon the correct name. It was a stupid game, but it was something to do as she plodded through the path that Erann had made for her in the crisp snow. She also found herself admiring his easy walking action. She liked the sure way he stepped out in his snowshoes, and the way he occasionally tossed his head to clear his eyes.

Suddenly the ground shook under her feet and was followed instantaneously by a loud boom sounding above her head. She looked at Erann in shock. They both knew what it signalled. Somewhere up above a field of snow had ripped itself apart from the mountain and was now hurtling downwards.

She glanced up frantically, hoping that she'd see the avalanche on one of the other mountains, but she wasn't in luck. Near the edge of her vision, she could see where the snow had been shaken loose from its precarious hold on the giant mountain.

Sereh looked frenziedly around. There was nowhere to go – nothing but steep sided mountains and the seemingly endless scope of snow surrounded her. Regardless she started to run, and Arrow raced along beside her. She could hear Erann's heavy breathing and knew that he was behind her. She dared not glance up fearing that what she'd see would paralyse her with fear. Arrow took off at a faster pace in front, and Sereh hoped that it meant she'd found another cave for them to hide in. She speeded up a little as she felt a flutter of hope. Around her, chunks of dirty snow and ice-encrusted rock were already raining down all around them, and she had to swerve to avoid large pieces that attempted to block her path.

The flood of snow nearly upon her, she was running faster than she'd ever done before. Ahead she could, thankfully, see the yawning mouth of a black cave and she headed desperately towards it. Better to be snowed in than buried. Hopefully, if they made it inside in time, they'd be able to dig themselves out with Arrow's help.

So intent on the sanctuary in front of her, she forgot to look where she was going. A cry of pain ripped from her mouth as her foot caught on a piece of debris and fell to the floor in an untidy heap, her breath rasping through her lungs. Unable to move she lay there panting with exertion knowing that her death was imminent.

Suddenly hands grabbed her, picked her up and threw her towards the cave entrance. She felt Arrow's mouth around her arm and knew that she was helping to pull her in.

As she entered the cave more crawling than running she turned to look for Erann, her saviour and saw him as he was quickly, but in her mind's eye, slowly buried under an avalanche of snow, ice and rocks. She screamed his name, and he looked at her with anguish in his jade eyes, and something else that she couldn't quite place. His own agonised cry rang out. Then he was gone, and she was left with a ringing silence apart from Arrow's panting, her own heavy breathing and the thud of snow settling all around her refuge. The light was abruptly cut off, and she fought back the urge to scream knowing that it was pointless.

* * *

She was trying to act calmly, trying to behave rationally. She was failing magnificently. Only the steady and comforting presence of Arrow beneath her hand was allowing her to retain any sense of coherence and composure.

The blackness was complete. Not even Arrow's glowing yellow eyes could dispel the impenetrable gloom of the cave.

It felt like she'd stepped into the darkest day of the Long Night. Her every sense other than sight was straining. She could smell and hear nothing, and the only thing she could feel was Arrow's fur beneath her fingers and the rocky surface she was sitting on. She could taste stale air, and that worried her. She dared not move in case she fell and hurt herself stumbling on an upturned rock. She wanted to scream in fear, grief and sheer frustration.

She was trapped and had no idea how large or small the cave was. Her breathing was ragged, and she knew she needed to calm down, or she would use up what precious air there was. She needed to focus. She needed to rescue Erann. She needed help.

She whispered Erann's name over and over again as she relived the moment when he'd been covered. She could hear his cry in her mind, and it seemed to be on endless repeat. She needed not to think about that. She needed to think about getting out of the cave.

She felt Arrow begin to walk away from under her hand and she made a grab for her fur but Arrow was too fast, and she was left clutching nothing. Her scream of terror escaped. She was alone, and she was terrified.

Chapter 5 - Trapped

He woke to a strangely diffused light, irreconcilable with anything he knew. He was lying on his back in a very uncomfortable position. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he'd left his backpack on when he lay down to sleep, and now he worried that he was crushing all the precious scripts contained inside it.

It was too bright, and he closed his eyes against the glare. He was unable to move his legs, and he wondered at that. The only thing he was sure of was that he felt warm.

Eventually, he noticed he was panting with the after effects of an exertion that he could no longer remember and wondered what had happened to him. He felt weak and tired. With relief, he felt sleep claim him. He drifted into an oblivion of memories.

* * *

Erann was bored. He couldn't help it. He knew he shouldn't be, but reading musty scripts was dull. It was deep in the Long Night, and there was very little that anyone could do, except keep warm and stay indoors. Before him was a pile of curled scripts he was supposed to be lying flat using a few handy pieces of wood and a heavy wooden bowl.

His mother was sitting by the massive hearth nursing his new baby brother, born only a few hours earlier, and his sister was happily playing mother to her little doll that she'd been given in anticipation of the new baby's arrival.

He sat at the large wooden family table, perched precariously on his father's high stool, and tried to look like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing.

At the other end of the table, Anya was chopping meat to be added to the cauldron hung over the blazing fire. She was at the end closest to the warmth, and sweat beaded on her brow as she worked. He watched in fascination as she swept stray hair back from her face, and in the process smeared blood from the carcass across her forehead. She didn't notice, and he suppressed a smile at her now grisly countenance.

Behind her, and closer to the fire, his mother sat with the baby. His mother was beautiful. She had luxurious auburn hair that lay unbound over the back of their one high-backed wooden chair. Her eyes flashed a brown smile at him more than aware that he should be reading, but too content to chastise him.

His sister was small and petite, a perfect miniature of his mother, apart from her eyes that were a stormy blue. She played quietly at her mother's feet, whispering to her doll. He was a little jealous that his sister could play dollies while he had to read the scripts in front of him. The entries were so monotonous that he couldn't imagine there was anything contained within them that needed to be known.

A gust of wind rushed through the room, and Erann jumped up to hold all the scripts down. It wouldn't be in his best interests if they were damaged in any way. The gust of wind signified his father's return and that he'd brought new bags of peat to be laid to dry inside the many compartments on the hearth.

As Erann hastily re-stacked all the scripts on the table in front of him, he was aware that this was an opportunity to get away from the monotonous reading. If he offered to fill the hearth with the peat, he'd be helpful to his father while lessening his boredom.

Decisively he rushed to help his father as he finished dragging the bags in through the exterior door at the end of the tunnel that led to the inner door. Erann glanced outside as he did so, and was met with the same impenetrable dark that had been their constant companion for more days than he cared to remember. He could see a few feet in front of him, thanks to the light spilling from the inner room but that was all. Everywhere was covered in snow and he shivered as the deep cold of outside wrapped itself around him.

Then his attention was snagged as his father pushed the outer door shut against the force of the swirling wind bringing with it a shower of fresh snow. His father wedged the large bolt of wood into place to keep the outer door shut against the onslaught of the wind. Erann then began to hand him the rags that were wedged all around the door frame to ensure no stray gusts of wind penetrated the steading. Only when that was done did his father turn to him with a smile,

"Thanks for your help there, Erann. That wind is much stronger than yesterday, a sign that we're still a long way from the Long Day. More's the pity. Here you go, you can go and sort that bag of peat for me while I check on your mother."

Erann was handed one of the heavy bags containing the wrapped peat and began to drag it towards the hearth over the shining wooden floor, buffed to such a sheen that it was almost easy to pull the sack.

As he worked, his father dumped the other two bags inside the inner door and likewise turned to bar it against the wind, snow and cold. It wasn't as firmly closed as the outer door, for the latrines were in the small entrance tunnel, but it was worth the effort of baring the door closed until such time as they were needed.

His father removed the layers of wolf and hare fur that wrapped him tightly and hung them near the hearth to warm and dry.

As Erann struggled to pull the sack across the floor, he could feel the temperature rise significantly. The hearth was one of the largest he'd ever seen, but even when it was piled as high as possible with peat, the heat didn't seem to reach all the corners of their home.

The area by the door was decidedly cold, and so were the sleeping quarters in the loft. Although his father assured him that the heat from the hearth rose to warm the sleeping loft, Erann was not at all convinced, especially when it came time to change his underclothes during the coldest days of the Long Night.

Erann welcomed the heat because it had been cold sat at the table reading the scripts, and even colder at the door when he greeted his father. He was wearing his warmest fur clothing but sitting away from the hearth allowed the chill air to cool his body.

The hearth, an enormous contraption filling the entire wall along the middle of the steading, was sited there so that the animals in the other half of the steading, cut off from the living quarters by a thick turf and wooden wall, also benefited from the heat it pumped out. The animals were lucky because they had thick, heavy cloaks that grew in for each Long Night and so didn't need the heat as much as Erann did. Erann was just glad that his family didn't have to live with the stink of the animals like some people did because their steading didn't have the benefit of the divide. He imagined that the stench must be unbearable, especially deep in the Long Night.

There were many drawers and cupboards in the hearth for drying the peat because the area where they were kept in storage was always a little damp, and there was nothing worse than smoke filling the steading when it wasn't dry.

Erann bent down and opened the bottom drawer. This was the warmest drawer in the hearth and the place where all new peat just in from storage was placed. He began to pull out the peat that had been put there previously. He then replaced it with the new peat. By the time he'd finished, he was hot and could feel sweat trickling down his back. He opened one of the cupboards by the side of the roaring fire and began putting the now dry peat in there. That way it would be easy to reach when it was time to stock up the fire.

As he finished his job he turned to look at his father, who devoid of his fur cloaks and wrappings, were gazing fondly at the small bundle in his mother's arms. His father was a huge man, with powerful, muscled arms and a hard stomach from all the heavy labouring he did. He had deep brown hair that reached his shoulders and deep green eyes, like his son.

His face was covered by a large auburn beard and moustache. His voice and laughter were normally deep and booming, and Erann knew he was doing his best to be quiet and gentle around his new brother, Hakon.

Erann adored his father. He was everything that Erann felt a father should be. He was fun, he was stern, he was approachable, and above all, he was dependable. He always had an answer to any question Erann had, and he had so many that he often tired his mother and Anya out with them.

Not wishing to disturb his father, Erann decided to fetch one of the other bags and again put its contents to dry. He walked back near to the entrance tunnel and felt the air cool around his sweaty face. He bent to pick up the bag, but it proved to be too heavy. Although Erann strained to drag it, he was unable to. He turned to see his father stood behind him, smiling at him,

"I think that one will be a bit heavy for you. Even I struggled to bring it in just now. Come on; I'm neglecting my chores, and so are you. I'll take over, and you can get on with your reading."

Erann tried to stifle a groan but ultimately failed.

"I know it's boring. Believe me; I remember being your age and thinking that it was the worst punishment imaginable. I'll tell you what, you sit down and I'll put this peat away and then try and find something more exciting."

With that his father picked up the bag of peat effortlessly, his muscles tensing in his forearms before he slung it over his back. Erann went back to the table and again sorted through the stack of scripts to find the one he'd just been reading.

He'd not done a good job of keeping them flat when the door opened. He knew his father would berate him for the mess. The scripts were meant to be in order, but he knew his father would have to spend time restoring the mess he'd made of them. Oh well, it would give him something to do. Erann was sure that his father must get just as bored as he did. There was nothing worse than being confined to the steading for almost a half of each rotation as the snow storms and winds whipped around their home, covering everything in deep thick layers of snow that would crisp and freeze before being covered in yet more snow. It made the first few weeks of the Long Day deeply problematic, as so much snow had to be cleared before they could travel the land freely.

Erann's father flopped heavily onto the small stool next to him, startling him from his thoughts. His head was now of height with Erann's own, and Erann found himself examining him in more detail. The cold of outside had reddened his cheeks so that every available surface was either covered in red or the auburn of his beard and moustache. Erann suppressed a grin. He looked remarkably animal like.

"Oh Erann, how many times do I have to tell you to keep these in the correct order?" his father said to him although there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he said it.

"Sorry, but they got a bit disturbed when you opened the door", Erann answered with a rueful grin, pleased to be able to smile at his father's evident good humour. His father wasn't cruel, but sometimes he was more likely to chastise than see the humour in a situation.

"Never mind son, I can sort them out soon enough, although it'd be good if I didn't have to sort them out every time you read them. I'm just glad that you only have one pile out; otherwise, it'd take half a day. You look very bored. All that son of son stuff can be a bit much at your age."

Every manuscript that Erann had read so far started with a big long list of people who'd told the scribe the information that they contained and an even greater list of all the predecessors who'd passed on the information to that person.

Erann tried to skim read the list, but sometimes when he did so, he missed the most important part of the script, which generally detailed one of his ancient relatives. His father seemed to know all of the scripts almost by heart and would often quiz him after he'd read them to ensure he'd understood what he'd read. More often than not he didn't, and his father wondered how he could find everything else so interesting and bedevil him all day with questions, but have no interest whatsoever in the past.

"Here you go, this one is quite interesting", his father said to him handing him a smallish piece of script. The scripts were all an assortment of shapes and sizes, some tied together with strips of hide while others were simply one piece carefully rolled to preserve the contents. This was one of those scripts, and it was so small that it was almost impossible to flatten.

"If you can read that one before supper, then you can stop until tomorrow. Okay?"

Erann gladly took the script from his father. It was probably the smallest script he'd seen so far. He hoped it wouldn't contain much writing. His father had already dismissed him to get on with the task and was flicking through his small personal journal, a little brown journal that Erann had often admired. He didn't know what the journal contained but knew that it rarely left his father's side.

He'd asked him before what it contained. His father had answered in the annoyingly adult way that, "He'd tell him when he was older" and that he must never touch it. That hadn't stopped him though from opening the journal one day when his father had left it on the wooden table. Even he'd appreciated its age and uniqueness, as he'd felt the soft, creamy page and the soft and biddable leather of the cover. Guiltily, he'd quickly closed the journal without really looking at what his father wrote there. He'd suddenly had a premonition that if his father caught him looking at it, he'd been punished.

He read the script now, focusing exclusively on that and not on his father's actions. The text read,

"This was told to me by Swein, son of Olaf who witnessed this event for himself. When it was discovered that the rumours were correct, it was decided that we would all leave. As such plans were made. We then left our homeland in the early days of spring, and after many days at sea during which we experienced storms and lost many of our ships, we came ashore here. The land was fertile and uninhabited, and life was excellent for many rotations until the Arrival. It was decided that we would stay. They were not happy with our decision and left us to our fate. This was written in the twenty-fifth Rotation after our coming here."

Erann was bewildered by what he'd read and for once was just about to ask his father about it when he realised he'd disappeared into the loft. He could hear his creaking footsteps above in the small loft area that served as their sleeping quarters. This was again a commodity denied many others who lived only on the floor, their steadings not being built to accommodate a second floor.

Then there was a loud knocking on the door, so loud it was clearly audible over the crackling of the fire, and the chopping of Anya's knife. His father rushed down the ladder towards the door with concern registered on his face. It was unheard of for anyone to be out at this time of the Long Night, but there was someone there because they could just about hear them shouting above the screeching of the wind and they could hear them banging on the door.

For that much noise, Erann reasoned that there must be more than one person outside. It sounded like they were using a stone to hammer on the door.

His mother jostled awake and the baby at her breast, disturbed, began to cry. His sister, Aras, rushed to her mother's side, fear on her angelic face. As his father fumbled with the wooden bolt, Erann ran to remove the wads of rags from around the outer doorframe. The door abruptly came loose and caught the fierce wind, flying into Erann's face and knocking him to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

When he next woke, he thought it was to the sound of a voice calling his name. He turned his head, which hurt but could see nothing and hear nothing.

With crushing speed, he remembered what had happened and by the process of elimination where he was. The terror was overwhelming. He tried to move his legs and failed. He tried to move his arms to batter at the layers of snow, ice and rock above his head. He accomplished nothing except to dislodge a chunk of ice that landed hard, on his right eye. The world went black.

* * *

As Erann stumbled his way to bed, he couldn't help berating himself for the risks he'd taken earlier that day. He could admit to himself that he'd found this Long Night particularly trying. His mother's health had steadily deteriorated, and he knew so little about herb law that he didn't know what to do for the best.

In his youth, when his father had been there, and he'd been Jarl of the Eastern Quarter there'd been many more people in the steading than just his immediate family. There'd been their trusted servants, paid in kind from the profits of gift giving and from the extra they were able to produce from their farm.

With his father's exile, they'd all left. The family could no longer keep them as they'd lost their place as Jarls in all but name. Rankil had taken it from them, and with it, he'd taken many of their servants and made them into virtual slaves who worked only for their bed and board.

Anya had wanted to stay, but she'd been unable to. They simply couldn't have kept her any longer. They were struggling to feed just the four of them as it was. Anya had phenomenal knowledge of herbs and healing. Even at only ten rotations old, Erann had been aware of her extraordinary gift. How he wished, she was still here now. She'd know what to do for his mother.

Ever since his father had failed to return from his exile, she'd lost the ability to live her life. This illness was only the most obvious example. As the days of the previous Long Day had started to shorten at both ends, he'd noticed lethargy about her. He'd known of her hopes that his father would return. He'd held them himself.

Last Long Night there'd been a keen anticipation from all of them and his mother had been thinking of how things would change when his father had returned and cleared his name. She'd often spoken of them resuming their position as Jarls of the Eastern Quarter in deed as well as name. There had been a definite lightness to their steps when the Long Day had finally arrived, a suppressed excitement.

As the days had reached their zenith, he'd often caught his mother gazing into the distance seemingly seeing nothing. All the time she'd been looking for her husband and his father. They'd purposely not gone to the Council last Long Day because they'd not wanted to miss his return. That was why they were now struggling to make some of their supplies last.

While the Council was primarily intended to be a meeting of all the people to discuss news and action justice for those who'd been wronged, it was also inevitably an excuse for people to trade their excess goods for those they didn't have in such abundance. Generally, they traded some of their animals for scarce supplies of wood and peat.

Now he realised his father wouldn't have been immediately able to restore his status and position. But somehow he and his mother had forgotten that because they'd been so wrapped up in the expectation of his return. When he hadn't arrived, a deep sadness had infected all of them.

This rotation they'd have to journey to the Council, and they'd have to stand and listen to the damning indictments being passed into law against his father. He'd failed to return after his seven rotations in exile, and that meant that he'd been judged to be guilty of his crimes.

Rankil would now become Jarl of the Eastern Quarter for his entire lifetime, and they had no hopes of returning to their privileged position. Maybe that was why his sister had been so happy to marry Jarl Rankil, as he supposed he should get used to calling him now. She'd taken it very badly when his father had left, and over time Erann was sure her sorrow and distress had turned into resentment for all the things she'd lost. Marrying Rankil was a way of getting back all those things. She'd only been five rotations old when their father had been forced into exile, and while Erann and his mother had tried to keep the memories of him alive with their constant reminiscing, maybe it just hadn't been enough?

In the beginning, when Rankil had first come, Erann had been so angry with his sister for her betrayal of his family. Over the Long Night, he'd come to realise that she was merely trying to make the best of a bad situation. Perhaps she hoped to help her family? He'd need to seek her out and apologise for their last argument. It had been more his fault than hers. He saw that clearly now. His anger was gone, replaced by a numbing sense of shame and futility. He'd lost all of his boyhood and young manhood waiting for something to happen that now wasn't going to happen. His father wasn't going to return, and that was why his mother was now so ill.

She reasoned that if her husband was dead then why shouldn't she be? Perhaps he could seek Anya out at the Council, and she'd be able to prescribe a concoction that would make his mother well and lift her spirits?

As he lurched towards his area of the sleeping loft, he couldn't help wondering about the events of earlier. He knew that he apparently hadn't seen his father, yet couldn't stop wondering why a vision of his father had come to him at his time of greatest need. Never before had he seen his father, even in his moments of deepest despair. If he closed his eyes now, he was sure that he could still feel the pressure of his father's hand on his back guiding him back to his home.

He shook his head. Perhaps he'd simply been so desperate to see his father, and so desperate to survive that he'd imagined him there as a way to motivate himself to get back inside.

With a crack, he whacked his head on the roof beam that ran the length of the loft. He cursed, loudly. How many times had he walked this way and never before had he cracked his head? He rubbed the inflamed part of his head above his left eye and felt a lump already beginning to form. He cursed again. It was going to hurt before it healed.

Then he bent to pick up whatever he'd dislodged, as he'd hit his head. He assumed it would be a small dead animal or a piece of the turf roof that was ancient. Instead, his hands closed on a soft wrapping, and he bent to pick it up intrigued.

There was no light in the loft, so he shuffled back towards the opening leading to the lower floor of his steading. In the dim glow of the fire and the nightlight, he unwrapped the package he'd dislodged and exclaimed out loud when he realised what he'd found. It was his father's journal. He remembered now that he'd been upstairs that day before Rankil had come to take him away. He must have hastily stowed the journal before running for the door.

Reverentially, Erann ran his hands down the soft binding he'd not been allowed to touch as a child. The hide was soft and well worn. The journal opened of its own accord to show his father's neat but cramped handwriting. Erann frowned in wonder. What was it he'd been writing? The journal page held two columns of numbers, almost identical. Or rather they were at the top of the page, as he ran his fingers down the columns in the weak light, he realised that the one number increased to the detriment of the other as he neared the last entry. What was this? His father had prized this journal, and it had been his only secret from Erann. But what did it all mean? Pondering, he re-wrapped the journal and took it to his bedside. He would look at it further in the morning. For now, his head was pounding from banging it on the beam, and his body was starting to shake in remembered cold from earlier. He needed to sleep.

* * *

He woke, sweating and shivering. Every part of his body screamed in agony, and he panicked, completely when he remembered where he was. His breath came in desperate gasps, and he was convinced that with every snatched mouthful he was getting less and less pure air into his lungs. This was it; he was going to die here. Alone. Thank the Gods he had saved Sereh. His death would be for nothing. His vision dimmed at the corners as he pulled in less and less air. He sank back into unconsciousness.

* * *

At this time of the rotation the door was usually stiff to open and annoyingly, stiff to close; the ice and snow sticking to the door as if it knew the thaw was only just around the corner. Today it swung open easily, and Erann was taken by surprise when he lifted his head to see where he was going.

There was a thin streak of deepest green lancing across the black tapestry of the sky. Grabbing Hakon's arm before he could slam the door shut behind him, he pointed in the direction of the sight. This was a good sign. Tomorrow the sun would rise for the first time since the start of the Long Night.

He suddenly felt giddy with excitement and wondered why that should be. This Long Day would see Jarl Rankil officially instated in his position as Jarl of the Eastern Quarter. It would finally and irrevocably signify to everyone that his own father had been guilty of the crimes he'd committed. But for some inexplicable reason, Erann felt strangely hopeful.

He turned away from the outer door and walked back towards where his mother sat in her chair. She was always just as excited as him when the Long Night ended, and he rushed to tell her, as excited as he'd been as a small boy.

"That's wonderful Erann," she said in a tired voice, unable to mask the utter apathy that the news bought her.

"Perhaps now we'll be able to go to the Council and meet up with Anya. I'm sure she'll have some herb knowledge that'll make you better."

"I don't want to go anywhere Erann, anywhere at all. I'm quite happy just to sit here and wait for what will happen to happen. Surely you must know that by now Erann." She looked at him with her piercing brown eyes, now lacking their former vibrancy.

Her words filled him with deep agony, and he instantly knew that this was what she'd been trying to tell him throughout the elongated Long Night. Maybe she was right. She'd stayed strong for a long time, and it had all been in vain. Maybe now was the right time for her to go.

In an instant he suddenly became angry with his mother, practically shouting,

"You're not the only one who's suffered you know. I've been here just as long as you, hoping and praying that he'd return. What am I supposed to do if you go as well? Am I just expected to lie down and die as well?"

His angry words shocked him. They'd never fought before, and he was taken aback by her quiet, dignified response,

"I'm sorry son. I know what you've been through, and you'll probably never know just how much I appreciate everything you've done, for me, and your brother and your sister. I know how much you hurt and how angry you are about what happened and I only wish I could make it all better. I hoped that I could."

"I've hoped every day for the past eight rotations. I guess that hope is not enough. It's not brought your father back, and sadly it's not brought about the end of Rankil. I've persevered for too long son, and I only want to go." Her voice was calm and measured. She'd not reacted furiously to his words.

Erann's sudden anger was instantly replaced with sorrow so deep he felt as if his feet were welded to the floor. He couldn't have moved if the steading had been on fire. The sense of loss and hopelessness that completely overwhelmed him made him feel sick, instantly craving the cold of outside. He didn't wish to listen to his mother telling him how much she wanted to die. He needed to see the outdoors and revel in its glory. Now.

Turning abruptly he more lurched than walked back towards the door Hakon was still holding open, as he gazed at the bright streaks of colour in wonderment.

Erann stepped through the door into the cold wind and deep snow, and his mood abruptly changed. He found himself grinning wildly with delight. Somehow, and he wasn't entirely sure how they'd made it through the Long Night. His disapproval at his mother's words disappeared, and he reached an instant decision. He didn't care what she said. He'd not let her die now. She'd lived through too much. His father wouldn't approve of her giving up, and even less of Erann not doing everything in his power to keep her alive.

He'd take her to his uncle's, and from there they'd journey to the Council. They'd have to make use of the crops from the collective farm this rotation, but he didn't care. Saving his mother was more important than saving face.

He'd do everything he could to keep what remained of his family together. Perhaps they could even spend the next Long Night with his uncle? With some female company around in the form of his aunt and cousins, his mother wouldn't sink into her dark moods so quickly. The thoughts cheered him, and somehow, felt right. He returned indoors. He must see to the animals and organise Hakon if he was going to make an early start on his resolutions come the morning.

* * *

He woke. The light was different now. Far less bright. He could feel a crushing weight all around him. He felt hot while knowing that in reality, he was colder than he'd ever been. The shivering gave it away and made him aware with every convulsion that his entire body was in agony. He wondered if he'd always been here. Wondered what sort of existence he lived? His throat hurt. His head started to pound, and he gratefully closed his eyes again and returned to oblivion.

* * *

Erann was surprised by how much he was enjoying his journey. Yes, he didn't want to get to his destination, but he was able not to think about that most of the time. He realised that there was no one else who could help his mother and he'd resigned himself to facing Rankil's ridicule. Rather than waiting for the Council, he'd resolved to seek out Anya's help immediately. His aunt and uncle agreeing with his resolution.

He vainly hoped that he'd be able to see Anya without having to see Rankil but appreciated it was unlikely. Rankil would no doubt make a big scene and ensure that Erann's sister was informed of his visit. Erann wondered what made the man so intent on causing other people pain.

The scene before him was stunningly breathtaking. As far as the eye could see, there was just deep, pure, brilliant white snow. It was bedazzling when the weak sun shone on it, turning it to an assortment of sparkling gems in every colour of the spectrum.

Erann was slightly worried that he'd start to suffer from snow blindness if he wasn't careful. It was unusual for so much snow to still be lying on the ground. Typically the snow started to melt as soon as the sun returned with the Long Day. While the sun was not overly powerful, its presence after so much dark frequently brought about an immediate thaw. By now the scene before him should have been a vast pool of melting snow waters snaking their way to the many rivers dissecting the land.

Instead, there was snow stretching across the horizon and Erann couldn't tell if the thaw had even started. Certainly, as he walked it was quiet with no sound of running water anywhere. He kept glancing up at the faintly glowing orb with some confusion. He was sure it didn't appear as high in the sky as normal.

As he trudged through the ever-changing texture of the snow each day, he'd been counting the other planets in the sky as he saw them, as much for distraction as genuine interest.

There was Thor, who showed his face at sunrise. He glowed a dull, muted red. Next to Thor was Odin, a bright jade planet that seemed to pulse from within. It appeared around nooning, staying until replaced by a smaller planet named Frey. Frey sparkled sapphire as night descended and then when all the other planets had taken their turn, Loki would appear, a tiny planet, often hard to find as it neither sparkled nor glowed. Many of his people had never seen Loki as only those with interest in the planets would look for Loki.

Erann could find Loki easily and quickly in the night sky as a black shadow against the carpet of shining stars. His father had taught him well during the Long Nights they'd shared before his exile. During the Long Night, it was far easier to spot the planets, although of course, far colder too as it involved sticking exposing heads outside the loft hatch in the roof of their steading. Still, they all seemed to be fine and to be in their regular places. He wondered what had made him consider the position of the sun at all. He shook the thoughts from him, like a wet dog shedding excess water. He didn't need to find even more things to worry about.

His thoughts slide to his mother. After he'd fought with her, he'd reached the decision to leave their home the very next day. The more excited he'd become the more his mother had sunk back in on herself. He'd been slightly uneasy at leaving the steading alone, but Hakon was too young to be left alone with the cares of an adult, and so there'd been no choice. The animals he decided to take with them. The crops he hoped would fend for themselves and be ready for harvest when he returned home.

Not once in the last seven rotations had their steading stood empty. It had felt very strange, as he'd bolted the outer door closed.

Luckily the expedition had been uneventful, and his mother had completed the trip, albeit grudgingly. She hadn't spoken to Erann the whole journey. He hoped she'd forgive him for making her leave her home when she started to feel better.

His uncle and aunt had a large family and a small welcoming farm. Even with food and resources scarce before the early harvest, Erann had found it far more hospitable than his own home. He hoped his mother would find it easier to be amongst so many people, with less time for her dark thoughts and more for idle conversation. With time, she might even regain her strength and work on the farm again. He'd also known that Hakon would thrive in the substantially increased company. The lad spent too much time alone, with his head stuck in old scripts.

The going had been rough in the freezing conditions, the temperature rising little throughout the short chill day. He'd been glad of his furs, arriving frigid to the bone.

His uncle didn't live all that far from Erann's home to the south and slightly to the west, in a small settlement with two other families. It had only taken the best part of the chill first day to get there. He'd felt a little nervous about his reception because they'd not visited at all over the last few rotations – there'd been too much to do on the steading and too few of them to do it. Also, he'd been unable to send word of their arrival.

His aunt and uncle, however, had welcomed them with open arms and tears of joy on his aunt's face. She'd shared a rather concerned look with him on seeing the state his mother was in, practically monosyllabic and so pale as to be almost the colour of her white hare fur cloak. Erann had looked back with a pained expression on his face.

Whereas his mother had always been slim and almost waif-like, his aunt was much more boisterously built, engulfing him in her over-exuberant embrace. She'd whispered in his ear,

"How long has she been this bad?" and he'd responded,

"She's become much worse as the Long Night's worn on. I'm at my wit's end. I was going to seek Anya out at the Council meeting and get her advice but seeing her, out and about has made me realise the need is far more urgent. I'll seek Anya out, at Rankil's." She winced at the mention of Rankil's name, and Erann almost smiled at her revulsion for him.

"Good lad, she'll know what to do, and I'll keep Ingun here until you get back."

Erann had felt almost pathetically grateful for her help. It had made him realise how much time he spent alone, in fact, how much time they all spent alone. Their family was now so small as to be barely workable, and he knew that he'd have to consider the future after this rotation carefully. Without his father, now could be the time to move away from their isolated steading, and into a more densely populated settlement. They needed to be near to people during the Long Night, in case the worst should ever happen. The prestigious isolation of a Jarl was no longer to be craved.

The opportunity to talk to his uncle about his father and the journal he'd found had also presented itself. They'd both discussed the length of the Long Night. Thorkell had stated that he'd thought the Long Night had been a good few weeks too long and commented that their food supplies had begun to run dangerously low.

However, until Erann had asked Thorkell, he'd not considered that the Long Night may have been longer than its regular length and neither could he throw any light on the journal Erann now carried with him. He'd decided he didn't want to be without the journal in case he deciphered its meaning. It also made him feel as though he carried a part of his father with him on his journey to rescue his mother. No matter how small that part was.

He realised that the journal must carry valuable secrets he needed to unravel. Why else would his father have hidden it so well? Thorkell was genuinely intrigued by it. He'd fingered the soft cover lovingly, and then reverently touched the silky soft pages inside with a look of wonder on his face,

"Whatever this is all about, it's exceptionally old Erann. Gods know how long this has been in your family?"

Erann had felt strangely pleased by Thorkell's reaction – or maybe just glad that he wasn't the only one to be intrigued by it.

"You let me know if you ever figure it out, won't you?" had been his parting shot. Then they'd turned the talk to the more practical elements of Erann's journey, his sister's reaction to his request, what they both knew was coming at the Council meeting at the height of the Long Day. Erann had felt comforted by the sharing of his worries. Again, I'd made him realise how isolated he'd become, and how self-contained. He knew that he, as much as his mother, needed to reach outside of himself to broaden his interests and find peace with others his own age.

* * *

He woke abruptly, a sense of calm penetrating deep within him. He almost smiled, but it hurt and felt awkward, lopsided somehow. He breathed in deeply, luxuriating in the knowledge that he was still alive. He'd been so sure last time he woke that he was going to die.

The air within his prison felt pure, and he realised that there was a small hole directly above his head, through which he could see daylight, provided he closed one eye and concentrated hard on what he was doing. He lifted his hand to place it over the hole and to feel the gentle flow of air entering his prison. As he did, there was a low growl all around him, and the faint light from the hole was obliterated. He cried out in frustration as more rocks fell around him. One landed, heavily, on his stomach. He jerked upright in pain and as he did torment lashed up his legs, and he hit his head on the ice shelf above him. The pain consumed him.

* * *

As Erann neared the lonely steading, he was surprised to note there was no one about and that the outer door was locked tight against the Long Night cold and dark.

He vaguely wondered if the smell would have hit him when he was much further away if the weather had been warmer. As it was, it was only as he neared the door that the faint smell of death reached him, dampening his joy in the beautiful day. His heart instantly sank. Thorkell had told him just how small his own food supplies had fallen and Erann had conceded that they'd also come close to starvation. Clearly, others hadn't been as lucky.

The steading looked neat and tidy, hugging squat to the ground. It wore its Long Night cloak of white, glittering every hue of the spectrum as he glanced at it. The steading was positioned away from Vatna Jokull and out of the shadow of the surrounding hulking giant mountains. It looked well maintained and loved.

He was torn by indecision. By rights, he should stay and see to the dead, and then report the unlucky happening to his Jarl, but all he wanted to do was run away. He didn't want to see any death now; not when he was feeling the stirrings of hope within him. His conscience warred for a few heartbeats and then with a heavy sigh; he walked to the front door and yanked it open holding his fur to his nose to block the smell of death and decay he knew would greet his actions.

The interior of the farm was dark with the shutters, naturally, still up. He found the smell was manageable and his hand fell away from his nose as he walked into the dimly lit room, illuminated only by the rays of sunshine that shone through the open door.

He bumped his way past furniture to the hearth and looked for some way to light the fire only realising when he arrived that it was a stupid idea. Surely if they had fuel for a fire they'd still be alive. He looked at the table for a moment, trying to decide why they'd not burnt it for warmth but then maybe, they'd run out of food and there'd be little point in being warm and starving.

He reversed his steps and walked towards the shutters on the window, fumbling around in the dark until he removed one. A small ray of late sunshine permeated the gloom of the room and he moved along the far wall removing all five shutters, being careful not to step on anything he might regret later. When all the shutters were down, he resolutely turned back to view the room. He was braced for the bodies of the previous inhabitants to be scattered around on the sparse furniture. They were not. Where were they?

He walked towards the table to see if anything had been left behind. Usually, when people knew they weren't going to make it through the Long Night, they left a note letting whoever found them know what had happened. Erann could see no note in the semi-light and stopped for a moment, his hands on the smooth wooden tabletop, considering his next actions.

With growing unease, he walked towards the loft ladder. If whoever was dead was in the loft he'd not be able to get them down himself and would have to let the whole place burn to give them proper death rites. It would be a waste of a perfectly built steading, but that was the way of his people.

The loft ladder was in place, and so he put one step on the bottom rung and began to haul himself up. When his nose drew level with the floor of the loft, the musty smell of death intensified. Cursing, he knew that he'd found where the bodies were.

He heaved himself into the loft and wrapping his fur around his nose. It was black as midnight in the loft, and he had no way of seeing who, or what was there. He gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust and then began walking slowly forward, his arms outstretched in front of him. His foot hit something solid and unbalanced him. He put his hands out to steady himself. A bad idea. They closed on something frigid, which used to be human. He just managed to stop himself from crying out loud and peered closer to see whom he'd found. The face of a small child – no older than three rotations, lay on the bed before him. It had obviously been there for a while as the body was starting to decompose even in the extreme cold. The bright yellow curls lay in a halo around the child's head, and he had to gulp back a sob. It was such a waste to see a life ended too soon.

He advanced more cautiously into the loft and came across a further bed with another child's body in. The fur blankets covered the cold child, and if he'd not known better, he could have mistaken the stillness for sleep. The child was slightly older than the first. Its face was angelically innocent, for all that it showed the ravages of starvation, and he found himself reaching out to touch the soft blonde curls framing the immobile face.

He snatched his hand back from the feathery hair when he realised what he was doing. Taking a calming breath, he peered into the deepening gloom of the loft and realised that he could make out a further six beds. He strode forward with a confidence he didn't feel and found first an old man and woman dead in their bed and then a younger woman dead in hers, with a small dead baby at her breast, its face permanently locked in a futile suckling motion. Erann choked back a sob. Where was the man, the farmer of this land?

Erann found him near the last bed where he'd breathed his last while tending to another slightly older child, this one about five rotations. The man must have come to comfort the child only to weaken and die himself. The child was also dead but with an agonised look on his face and with his shadowy eyes staring openly in a silent plea.

The father must have seen to everyone else's eyes, and then the child saw to the father's, but no one had been able to save this last young survivor and Erann found it incredibly hard to look away from his agonised eyes. He couldn't leave him with his eyes staring blankly into space. With a deep breath, he leant forward and tried to close the child's eyes; only they wouldn't close. Fumbling on the floor, he found two objects to weigh the eyelids down. It was the least he could do for this poor family.

Erann was about to turn to leave when he noticed a scrap of script in the child's lifeless hands. He bent down and gingerly pried the fingers open, grimacing all the time, to extract the piece of text. Bereft, Erann made his way back down to the living area. It made him realise how lucky his own family had been to survive the Long Night. He'd been convinced time and time again that he'd find no more stores when he went to the animal barn. Amazingly, each time he'd searched, he'd found something; a missed bag of peat, jars of animal blood, containers of hardened butter and on one memorable occasion, three dead snow hares, ready to cook.

The script lay heavy in his hand. Did he need to know the sad story that the script would tell him? He wandered towards the open door clutching the tattered script. With a resolution, he didn't feel he opened the tiny fragment and discovered the name of the people and when they'd started to die. The baby was only weeks old; her name had been Freya, and her mother had been Estrith. They'd died together.

The next had been the small child, Harold, and then the other names were hastily scribbled, one after the other, in a rough hand, desperate to preserve all their names and ages. The father had been Swein; the grandparents, Auld and Snorri. The last scribbled name was that of a further Snorri, and the script more childish. Erann had to assume that this was the hand of the child who'd lain with his eyes staring at the dark ceiling above his head.

Erann could feel a silent trickle of tears falling down his cheeks, and he angrily wiped them away with his hand. He couldn't stay here, but he'd ensure they received proper burial rites. He would have to set the place alight. He practically ran outside in his sudden desperation to get away. There was too much tragedy here, and all of it was too close to what had nearly happened to him and his mother and brother. He didn't understand how they'd survived.

Outside twilight covered his path of earlier, and in the distance, the way forward was swathed in deepest purple, the mountains no more than a remembered menace. He could have used his heatstone to kindle a brand and walked on into that forbidding dark forgetting what he'd seen here. He recoiled at the thought. He owed it to these people who must have once been ruled by his father, to see that they received proper burial rites. He needed to let them and their steading burn, and to do that; he needed to wait until the calm of day returned instead of the howling wind starting to swirl around his covered head. The wind would extinguish the flames before they took hold and he couldn't let that happen.

He stepped away from the entrance tunnel deep in thought. He couldn't spend the night inside the steading, not with the bodies. What should he do? He knew there were no other steadings within easy walking distance. Berating himself for his soft heart, he took a step back towards the steading, trying to reconcile himself to a night inside.

Luckily at the moment he saw off to the right, in the gathering gloom, an extension of the steading. He walked towards it and heaved open the massive wooden doors. A faint smell of manure and animal filled his nostrils. The animal shed, he thought. They must have built it as an extension to the original steading. There was no taint of death here, and he knew that he'd be able to seek shelter for the night within. Briefly, he returned to the abandoned steading. With many grunts and groans, he refastened the shutters he'd opened earlier, and then turned and pulled both the inner and the outer door firmly closed behind him. In the morning, he'd set the fire, and send them on their way to their Gods. He could do nothing else for them.

He retraced his steps to the barn and quickly pulled the large doors closed behind him. Retrieving his heat stone from his backpack, he managed to make a small fire by using some dried animal bedding that he found neatly stacked in the far corner. He wondered if the farmer hadn't been able to find it or if he'd simply become too weak from lack of food to journey to the annexe? Whatever the answer was, he was grateful for the little bit of comfort.

He didn't feel like eating, absent-mindedly fingered his father's journal for a few moments. Flicking through the silky pages and gazing at the regular columns, no explanation came to him. He just didn't understand the meaning of the numbers.

The fire, when it finally caught, was very smoky and Erann coughed uncontrollably. When he recovered, he curled into a tight ball and lay beside the fire watching the small blue flames dance before finally falling asleep.

His dreams that night were filled with wailing and crying children, and he could vividly see the dead children running towards him begging him for food. The last child to die looked at him with anguish in his eyes and pleaded for help to come. Erann tossed and turned trying to escape from the dream, but it held onto him and repeated over and over again. He could feel tears streaking his face and scrubbed at them in a half-asleep, half-awake daze.

He wanted to wake up but couldn't escape the cloying dream. And then a noise that he didn't want to hear finally broke through into his restless state. He could hear the harsh baying of a wolf pack over the fiercely howling wind. They must have smelt the dead bodies with their keen sense of smell.

Erann lay gasping, glad to escape his dream, but terror-stricken by the noises coming from outside. He was pleased that he had thought to close and bolt the door both on the annexe and to close both doors on the steading. Would that be enough, though? He hastily gathered his backpack and stamped on the pitiful fire to put it out. He didn't want the wolves to smell a human who was alive.

Earlier he'd noticed a small loft space in the annexe, and so he fumbled around in the faint light from the dying fire until he found the ladder and hauled himself up, taking the ladder with him. He hoped that the wolves wouldn't be able to get in. Cursing to the Gods, he wished he'd set the steading on fire earlier and trudged away into the darkening night. Anything would have been better than sitting and shivering on a small wooden shelf hoping the wolves would go away.

Suddenly the wolves stopped howling. Even above the howling wind, he could hear their paws as they circled the annexe and he wondered if they'd found his scent.

He'd no idea how far into the night it was and how long it'd be before dawn broke. He didn't think he'd been asleep long, but he could be wrong. He glanced upwards, wishing he could see the sky so he could have tracked the planets above his head and known how long it was until dawn.

He sat huddled, alone and cold, listening to sharp nips and growls from the wolves for so long he wondered if daybreak would ever come.

He'd almost managed to convince himself that they weren't going to attack when he heard scratching at the walls around him. As the shed was so empty, the sound echoed, and he couldn't determine exactly where the noise was coming from.

He felt around hopelessly on the loft floor in the hope that some weapon would come to hand. He'd not thought that the wolves would be this far down from their usual territory and hadn't thought to defend himself when he'd left his uncle's home. It was rare for them to be seen anywhere other than the top of Odadahraun. The harsh weather must have affected their food supplies as well. But they'd found themselves a feast.

Erann's hand came across nothing as it skittered across the loft floor, serving only to blow up billows of dust that exasperated his ragged breathing as he fought back panic. What would he do if the wolves gained entry to the annexe? He couldn't make a run for it because there was nowhere to go and they'd follow his scent. He had no means of defending himself, if that were even possible against a pack of snarling, starving wolves.

His heart began to beat faster and faster, and his breath came in uneven gasps. He couldn't fail now, not when he was so close to his destination. He must make his mother well. He must make it to Rankil's.

Locked in his panicked mind with his own fears he wasn't aware for some time that the scratching had ended and that he could no longer hear the soft shuffle of the wolves' feet on the snow outside. It was only when he managed to calm himself completely and still his breathing that the utter quiet of the night overwhelmed him. Even the howling wind had ceased. With a sob of relief, he made himself comfortable against the rough wall and fell into a deep and disturbed sleep. He dreamt of fire.

* * *

He slept now and as he did he flew. The world spread out before him in an endless expanse of shimmering silvers and purples. Snow and ice lay everywhere. Only at the shore was there even the hint that there might be other shades to colour the land. Below the ice, there was a hint of emerald, faint from this height, but enough to know that when the ice melted a dark jade sea would be exposed. His mind cleared, and he settled into a dream he remembered as his own.

Chapter 6 - Revelation

Erann was unnerved. He didn't understand how he'd come to be on Vatna Jokull. The last thing he remembered clearly was stumbling from the steading of death just to the south of Vatna Jokull last sunrise. Everything since then was a blur.

How had he survived outside for the night? He was sure that he must have been alone but couldn't shake the feeling that he'd not been. He vaguely recalled the cold of last night and the howling winds blowing across him as he lay in the middle of the glacier.

He recalled thinking that he was going to die a slow and painful death as he slowly lost all feeling in his extremities without having the will to do anything about it; reminded vividly of the night he'd thought his father had rescued him. Then he recalled nothing but flurry of wind and a sense of slow and steady warmth working through his body and a deep feeling of peace. The wind had ceased stealing his heat and he'd relaxed into a deep sleep.

He'd thought that was what it meant to die but now found himself in a cave, with a girl he vaguely remembered from his childhood. He had her wolf to thank for finding him. In a perverse way, he wondered what would have happened to him if they'd not come. Would he have died or would whatever had warmed him, have kept him safe until he'd woken.

He was sorry he'd snapped at Sereh. That was her name, he remembered now. She must be about his age. He wondered what had happened to her when her parents had died, and then realised that she'd answered that question already, she was with Jarl Rankil now.

He wondered if she enjoyed being his servant. She'd spoken his name with an edge to her voice when explaining her presence. Erann considered briefly what her tone implied but decided not to push the conversation further. Instead he refocused on his own hazy memories of the day before, as he lay within the few layers of furs she'd covered him with.

He'd woken from his disturbed night's sleep feeling remarkably refreshed and keen to begin his day. He'd known he wasn't far from his destination and had been hopeful that he'd reach it that night. What he'd not bargained for was the scene that had greeted him on returning to the steading.

Stepping into the weak sunlight he'd wondered what had caused the mist swirling around him. Only as he'd trudged through the snow to the tunnel opening of the steading had he realised that it wasn't mist. No. It was smoke turning wispy as the sun's rays hit it. He'd gasped in shock. The steading was smoking.

Stepping closer, almost not comprehending what he saw, he'd reached out to touch walls that were no longer there. How had the fire started? How had it stopped so that he hadn't been burnt alive? Looking closer he saw the smoking remains of wolves and gasped in horror and comprehension. He sat down abruptly in the slushy snow, his legs no longer able to support his weight as he'd realised how close he'd come to dying the night before, and not just from a wolf attack.

Lurching back to his feet, he'd stumbled away from the scene of devastation, the aroma of burnt fur and flesh in his nose. Unsure of how he'd not retched in disgust, fear and sheer relief at having missed being burnt alive or eaten by a wolf, he'd walked blindly, not seeing where he went.

He'd been walking towards Vatna Jokull but how he'd come to be here, to be found by Sereh and her wolf, he wasn't sure. He could only imagine that his thoughts had been clouded by his grief and that he'd slipped and lumbered his way onwards, his mind fighting for a numbness he'd achieved only upon collapsing where he'd stood, with no regard for preserving his own life.

"Erann."

"Erann."

"You might be rude and ungrateful but you could at least listen to me. Oh for Gods sake," and Erann felt something warm thrust into his hand. It felt lovely and he snapped back to the present, to the cave and to Sereh. He felt incoherent for a moment but quickly noticed the angry set of Sereh's face and he stumbled,

"Thanks, thanks Sereh. Sorry I was a bit distracted then."

Her response was acerbic,

"Whatever. Have your soup and go back to your 'distraction', don't worry about me," she muttered, turning away from him to tend the fire.

Now that he'd managed to reassemble his thoughts and realised where he was and whom he was with, he felt his earlier confusion returning. And he one thing he didn't want was for Sereh to ask him any more questions. Neither did he want to appear rude, again. He sipped his soup – it was hot and it tasted of nothing.

"This is good. What's in it?"

"Whatever you had in your backpack and something that I think was the leaves of a spreading shrub. Do you know what it was? I would've asked you but you seemed a little busy."

Her tone was stung and hurt and Erann felt guilty. He wanted to apologise whilst fearing that if he did she'd resume her questioning of him and he certainly didn't want that,

"Um. I think your right. My aunt gave me a few things to supplement what I had. Not that they had much."

"Your aunt? Is that where you came from? Doesn't she live to the southwest of here? How come you've ended up on the glacier?"

The questions – he just didn't seem to be able to stop her. He muttered a "Yes" and returned to supping his soup and watching her warily over the rim of his wooden bowl. The blue eyes were afire with questions and she was looking anywhere but at him. He hoped he'd put her off so that she'd not try and question him again. He certainly wasn't going to offer any more openings.

They slurped in peace and Erann began to relax, slightly. Arrow had her own bowl of soup and was noisily lapping it up, allowing them both to concentrate on her instead of each other. When Arrow finished she padded over to Erann. He stroked her between her downy soft ears and, and then she walked to Sereh, where she flopped down, her grey and black head in Sereh's lap.

Absent-mindedly, Sereh stroked her between her ears as she gazed out upon the star lit blanket of the night. The fire crackled and Erann idly wondered what they were burning before more closely examining Sereh. Her face was a perfect oval shape; her nose small and well rounded; her chapped red lips, small but well formed. Her hair was hidden under a white wolf fur hat, although stray wisps of hair so blonde it looked almost golden, framed her face. For all that, it was her eyes that were the most telling.

They were intense and looked haunted; older than she was. He wanted to ask why and to rub at the deep black shadows under those eyes but dare not. He couldn't ask her about life with Rankil, the man he hated. He couldn't even bring himself to ask after his sister. Their angry argument on parting was bound to be no secret from someone who now served in her new household.

Instead he drank his soup, stepped outside briefly to relieve himself under the pristine stars, where the sun was just starting to descend below the horizon, and returned to his make shift bed to sleep. He turned his back to the fire so that he couldn't watch Sereh or feel her eyes on him.

He didn't sleep though. Instead he listened to Sereh's exaggerated attempts to tend the fire, repack the backpack and settle down to sleep herself. He didn't speak and he didn't watch her, his back turned the whole time. Only when she crawled under the furs next to him did he move at all and that was to offer her more room, silently. She huffed a response before she too turned her back on him and tried to sleep. Only when her breathing stilled as in sleep did he relax his tense posture and breathe more freely.

He would leave at first light. He didn't want to endure any more of this uncomfortable proximity to someone who was too inquisitive for their own good. His mind made up he lay eyes closed, his breathing even, waiting for the first light of day so that he could make his escape.

* * *

He felt someone call his name. It was a strange sensation. He struggled to open his eyes and focus whilst trying to croak a response that he was here, and he was all right.

His mouth was so dry he couldn't manage more than a harsh rasp before subsiding into a coughing fit that lashed pain up and down his entire body. His eyes opened as pained slits and took in his surroundings in the small glow lighting the hollow he occupied. Ah yes. He remembered now.

Was someone looking for him or had he imagined the sensation? Would Sereh even be able to find him? He hoped so but instantly realised it was futile. No one was going to be able to find him, let alone dig him out. His coughing subsided and he licked his dry lips with his parched tongue. He needed water and so reached up and broke a piece of ice from above his head. He tensed in anticipation of a further ice or rock fall. Nothing happened.

He reached his hand to his mouth and hungrily sucked the frozen ice. It made his teeth scream in agony but he persisted. He wondered why. Why should he extend his life when there was no hope of survival? He felt something brush against his mind. It was a strange presence, calming and yet totally unlike anything else he'd ever felt. He tried to grasp whatever it was but instead found himself again spirally down into blackness.

* * *

He'd finally reached the steading of Rankil and his sister as the sun was streaking the horizon in an assortment of early morning deep blues and pale purples. He'd left Sereh as soon as he'd been able to see through the early morning fog caused, he assumed by the thaw.

He'd walked steadfastly all day, stopping only when necessity dictated he did so. Still, he'd been forced to seek some shelter as full dark had fallen, nestled inside a tiny cave that allowed him to either keep his head or his feet out of the wind, but never both at the same time.

Waking early, he'd resumed his journey straight away. He felt amazingly relieved to see the smoke from Rankil's fire on the horizon. He'd never thought he'd be pleased to actually see Rankil, but it meant that he was half way through his journey and that he'd soon be able to see his mother well and, hopefully, happy. That was all he wanted. He didn't want to have to think about the steading he'd stopped in or his night of incoherence on the glacier, and his meeting with Sereh.

When his thoughts turned to her, he became distracted and he had to reign them in every time so that he could concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. He wondered why he'd felt compelled to leave so quickly, without even saying goodbye and why he'd been so ungracious to her. The only explanation was that he'd been embarrassed and self-conscious that she'd found him on the glacier when he had no credible explanation as to how he'd made it there.

He'd also been scared that he'd found himself in such a vulnerable position and so dependent on someone else for his very survival. His previous excursion out of doors during the Long Night had unnerved him. His latest escapade had scared him senseless. Was he sickening with something?

Rankil's home was the same routine structure as others on Unison. There was no more to look at on the outside than any other farm. At this time of the Long Night the grass roof was thickly covered by a deep white blanket, and snow lay deep on the ground, almost reaching up to the low hanging roof. The windows were shuttered and the outer door firmly closed. None of the servants seemed to be at work in the two attendant ancillary buildings that were used only during the Long Day.

He stamped to the door through the heavy snow, noticing as he did that no path had yet been cleared, and banged loudly on it. He had a momentary flash back to the day that it'd been Rankil banging on his own door, and he had to push the thought firmly to the back of his mind. He needed to ask for Rankil's help and dwelling on the past wouldn't be fruitful at the moment.

He banged, and then he banged again. No one answered. He hammered on the door with both of his fists and finally heard some sort of shuffling behind the heavy wooden door. The door slowly opened and Erann was almost blinded by a light thrust into his face. He was beckoned inside and admitted into the area between the inner and the outer door. Even from here, the aroma of the inner rooms could be smelt, overpowering even the smell of the far closer latrines. Erann worked hard to keep his face straight. It was a disgusting smell of animal dung, human sweat and over cooked food.

Erann thought that Rankil should have at least started to cleanse his home from the Long Night in the three days since the sun had first risen. He was obviously wrong.

The light was lowered from the face of the person who'd opened the door, and Erann was elated. It was Anya, the very person he'd come to seek out. There was instant recognition on her face and a brief whispered conversation ensued between the two as they both struggled to speak first.

"Anya, it's so good to see you. I've come. I'm desperate. I need your help with my mother. Is there any way that Rankil would let you come with me for a few days?"

"Erann, you're a sight for sore eyes. I've missed you. Look how you've grown. You're a strong, and dare I say it, handsome young man these days." Her tone was teasing, even as she assessed his words spoken to her.

Erann felt himself blush at the compliment. He wasn't overly aware of his own looks. He saw only his mother, his brother, and until the last Long Night, his sister. None of them were likely to comment on his looks, or in fact ever had.

"As to your request. I'm not sure. Is your mother really so ill? Sorry, that's a stupid question. You wouldn't be here unless she was. I'll have to speak to your sister. I know that you two no longer see eye to eye but she's our only hope. Rankil dotes on her, and there's much more at stake than you realise. Now quickly, come inside. I'll announce you to the Jarl," he winced at the use of the word and Anya squeezed his arm comfortingly, "and we'll see what can be done. You look well, I'm pleased."

They reached the inner door to the steading and Erann steeled himself for a fresh influx of the terrible smell. Anya noticed,

"You'll get used to it, though I pity you if you have to stay so long that you get do. Rankil isn't yet ready for his steading to be cleansed. He's still sulking after he lost that young girl who used to read to him. Stupid old fool. He shouldn't have forced her to go outside on the first day of the Long Day, especially when he knew that this Long Night has been so much worse than normal. Everything was too unpredictable for him to do what he did. But then, he ever was a fool."

Anya's voice dropped back to a whisper, and Erann was able to hide his shock at her words because the stench was truly terrible, and his face contorted in disgust. He heard a low chuckle behind him at his discomfort.

His mind was working frantically, working out the implications of what she'd just told him, whilst also trying to act in an acceptable way as a guest in the steading of the man who was not only his brother by marriage, but also his sworn enemy.

The steading was no larger than Erann's own, however, it was curtained off into smaller areas and Anya expertly guided him through the huge heavy curtain that served as a door to the common room. It was festooned with dust and damp and Erann stepped through gingerly, hoping he wouldn't touch it with his own clothing.

The common room was filled with a group of men lying stretched on the benches to either side of the building. Erann's own family had long since stopped using the benches in their own home. They were uncomfortable and too liable to the occasional drip from the roof ahead, not to mention damp rising from the ground. The smell of damp now predominated and Erann again worked to keep his face straight. How could his sister prefer this slovenly home to her own?

Anya bade him to sit by the fire on a low wooden stall, and went to inform her Jarl that he had a guest. Erann felt deeply uncomfortable and couldn't stop his eyes from flicking all around him.

The steading was in a terrible state of repair with water leaking through the turf roof and the floor rough and uneven beneath his feet, with no sign of the usual raised wooden floor. He wondered how his sister could tolerate it, and as his thoughts turned to her she entered, inconspicuously, through the heavy curtain.

He was shocked at the change in her appearance. She'd always been thin but now she was almost skeletal, looking behind her nervously as she entered. She came straight to him and Erann realised that Anya must have informed Aras first of his arrival before going to Rankil. It would give them a few precious moments to talk, although he was surprised that his sister wanted to talk to him.

She was gorgeously attired in a rich thick grey wolf's pelt that perched on her shoulders, and her skirts were likewise warmly layered in a matching fur. She might well look awful to his eyes, but she was doing it with a style that he was sure Rankil appreciated. Her beautiful long hair was tied back from her thin face in intricate rings and he could appreciate that she was doing her best to look attractive for Rankil.

"Erann, my brother, it's so good to see you. I'm glad that you're here", she announced loudly enough for the other inhabitants of the room to hear and then in a whisper,

"Is it true, is mother really so ill that you've had to come here?"

Erann was taken aback. He'd expected all sorts of reactions from Aras, but this one, of concern for their mother, had not featured at all in his considerations. He spoke gently and urgently,

"Yes, she's lost the will to live, with father not returning, and... and everything else." He wondered why he thought to protect her from the truth whilst at the same time realising from the wince on her face that he'd been completely unsuccessful. She was only too aware of the effect her actions would've had on their mother. Still in a whisper she said,

"I'll make him send Anya, and I'll go myself as well. Will you escort me home Erann?" Her tone was pleading and she glanced anxiously at the other inhabitants of the room to make sure that they weren't paying too much attention to their conversation. He found himself answering in a brusque voice in his surprise at her words,

"Mother's not at home, she's with Aunt and Uncle. Do you think Rankil will let you go that far?"

For an answer she squeezed his arm, in the same place that Aras had, and whispered,

"I'll make him. Just you wait and see. Erann, please, please understand, I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want mother to become ill."

Erann's made his tone more reassuring this time, worried by the horrified look on his sister's face.

"It's not all your fault Aras. The knowledge that our father must be dead has crippled her with grief. Anything else is just an extra burden when she can't cope with the first. I'm sure that just seeing you will make it easier for her."

Erann was surprised to see tears in Aras' deep blue eyes, and in a heartbeat he understood just how hard this was for her. He searched her eyes and saw with clarity she wasn't doing this for herself; she was doing it for all of them. His heart went out to her, and he found himself brushing the tears from her eyes with his fingertips.

His sister was loyal and brave after all, if perhaps stubbornly stupid in her actions. He realised being here with Rankil must be intolerable. Her desire to see their mother was an excuse to escape from the turgid conditions she now found herself in. He wanted to say more, to comfort her, to berate her, to remind her that she could leave him if she wanted to, but her eyes silenced him, and she swept a deep curtsy that made Erann rise from his seat by the fire.

Behind him Rankil had entered the room and Erann plastered a smile on his face. The man was odious, if reasonably well proportioned to look upon. Rumour had it that he could have any woman he wanted in his bed with his dark looks. Erann didn't see it himself, and as he glanced uncertainly between his sister and her husband, he realised she didn't see it either. All her protestations of attraction to Rankil when they'd discussed the marriage had been fake. He could have wept for her stubbornness.

Rankil strode forward in his knee high fur boots, complete with intricate lacings and protectively placed his arm around the thin shoulders of Aras. Erann suppressed a grimace. It wasn't as if she needed protection from her own brother. It was more likely that she needed protection from the one who was now professing protection.

Aras shook her head slightly, a movement too subtle for Rankil to notice, but one which Erann immediately understood as a say nothing and behave normally request.

Aras said in a cold, almost dead voice,

"So brother, what brings you to my married home? I do believe you vowed to never step foot inside my doors once I was married." It was a low blow. Erann let it pass. She had a part to play and knew that Rankil would be expecting her to goad her brother. All the same, Erann winced at the memory of his last conversation with his sister, and responded in an equally dead tone.

"Mother is extremely ill and I had hope that my Jarl would lend me the aid of the herb woman."

"Surely you wouldn't expect me to do without the aid of my herb woman so that she might assist my mother. You must know me better than that brother. I'm here so that I may no longer miss out on the necessities of life, something you and my mother can no longer provide me with. Why should I put myself and my woman at your pleasure?"

Erann sucked in a shocked breath at her words even though he knew they were purely for Rankil's benefit. Rankil was laughing merrily to himself and in that moment it took all of Erann's will power not to just reach out and grab the man around the neck, and crush it until he'd breathed his last. His next words made Erann redouble his efforts at self-control.

"Indeed my dear, we shouldn't be without our herb woman, especially when it's so likely that you're with child, or soon will be."

His tone was sickly sweet, his grey eyes fierce as they bore into Erann's own.

"I know my love", was her immediate reply, her tone placatory, "however, I wouldn't want it to be said that I abandoned my sick mother and refused her my aid. Surely we could do without the herb woman for a little while? I know that I'm not yet with child and it's only a short journey. Perhaps if we can't spare Anya, then Mother could come here?" Her tone was neutral.

Erann's head snapped to meet his sister's eyes. Her efforts to stay in control were apparent to him. Aras knew that the last thing her mother would want would be to visit this steading. She hated Rankil with a passion borne only from loving her husband so much.

"Sadly, mother is too ill to travel and the conditions treacherous underfoot. The nights are exceptionally bitter. Mother is also now at Uncle's and so the journey is a little further." Erann rushed his words in an effort to get them out before anything could be agreed that he didn't like and would be contrary to their hastily assembled plan.

"Perhaps, if she's this ill, I should journey to visit her and take Anya with me? That way if I have need of Anya she'll be with me as well as mother."

Erann saw Rankil's hold on his sister's shoulders stiffen and he feared that she might have been too transparent. He looked briefly away to hide his own emotions. When he looked back at Rankil's face he realised with relief that he was smiling in his own conceited way.

"Yes my dear that would be acceptable, provided you don't stay away too long. We have the Council meeting to attend at the height of the Long Day and I wouldn't want you to miss my crowning glory. Perhaps your mother will be better by then able to attend you at the Council?"

Erann was curious to see how Aras would play this. Their mother wouldn't want to go to the Council; yet, Rankil had managed to make it almost a certainty. If their mother didn't go it could only be because she was too ill to attend, or worse dead. Rankil would take any other option as a major affront and he'd no doubt wax lyrical about the whole thing. Aras went along with him and Erann let out a small sigh of relief as a slow smile curved her lips as she responded,

"Of course my Jarl. It would be excellent to have my own mother see me officially acknowledged as the Lady of the Eastern Quarter. I don't know why I didn't think of it myself. Perhaps we could ensure that she publicly steps down from her position at the same time?"

Rankil liked that idea, Erann could tell from the way his chuckles intensified. He didn't like that idea, and his face tightened as a consequence of her words. He only hoped when the time came that she'd be able to prevent their mother from having to attend the Council and that it wouldn't be because she was already dead.

Rankil had decided that the conversation was now at an end and made his way out of the common room, chuckling to himself but leaving Erann alone with Aras. He looked at her with relief but didn't speak a word, not yet.

Rankil's men had all paid attention to their public conversation and were now opening staring at the pair of them. He was unsure what to do. He wanted to continue to speak to his sister but obviously couldn't do so here if they wanted to maintain the idea that they hated each other.

Then Anya re-joined them. With her as companion, they moved to a smaller room, spotlessly clean, and filled with fragrant candles. There was even a small fire burning to warm the immaculate space. Erann knew instantly that this was Aras' refuge from Rankil and that she spent most of her time in the small space.

He helped himself to another small wooden stall before finally removing his many fur layers. Anya placed his cloak near the fire and he sank down on the chair, grateful for the heat and the warm tea that she handed to him. Aras smiled at him tightly before making abrupt excuses to depart now that she knew he was comfortable. They must at all costs maintain the façade of their hatred.

As she swept from the room she bent and whispered,

"I'll be back later, for now I must pack, and stay apart from you."

In her absence, Anya stayed with him asking pointed questions about his mother's health and then she too left him alone; to see to the herbs she needed to take with her. Her face was concerned as she realised how ill Ingun was. As she left she squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

"I'll do what I can. I fear she's ill of a broken heart and they're always the hardest to mend. I'll think about how best to treat her."

Her words filled him with a small hope, and he relaxed for the first time in days in the peace and comfort of his sister's small sitting room.

He slept that night, curled up in his fur on one of the benches that surrounded the common room. He wasn't close to the fire and had a near constant drip falling down his back that kept him awake and overly aware of the other people around him who also slept in the room. He almost felt it would have been warmer and more comfortable to sleep outside.

It was a stark change from the comfort of his sister's own sitting room and yet he realised he couldn't have spent the night there. It would've been interpreted as a sign of respect from his sister towards him, and they couldn't let their newfound friendship be known to Rankil. He was grateful for the time he had spent within there. It'd restored him better than a full night's sleep.

The other men within the room were all large and burly with an assortment of scars and weaponry that worried Erann more than he thought possible. Few of his people carried weapons; their society didn't tolerate unplanned violence, preferring everything to be highly regulated, even when it came to blood feuds. Rankil worked outside of the societal norms, as his treatment of Erann's father had shown, and Erann couldn't help wondering where he'd found such reprobates.

Rankil had returned to the common room for his evening meal pointedly ignoring Erann. Not that he'd minded. He found the man odious and to be in his company anymore would have pushed his resolve to breaking point.

Rankil had spent the entire long, dreary evening, making quiet comments to two of his men who looked to him and watching Erann closely. It had made Erann pleased that his sister had sought him out earlier before she'd packed for her journey to their Uncle's.

He'd asked her about the missing girl, and realised that it was indeed Sereh who'd escaped from Rankil and was now presumed dead. He didn't inform his sister of her survival. The less she knew the better. But his actions had made him wonder why he felt the urge to protect Sereh. Shrugging the thoughts aside, he hoped that she'd have done the same for him, regardless of his despicable behaviour towards her.

As he watched Rankil and his men he couldn't help thinking that he'd stumbled into something dangerous and that somehow, it involved him. All night he thought about it, as sleep defied him, and by the first rays of sunlight he was out of the common hall and pulling on his furs and cloaks. He wanted to say goodbye to his sister but there wasn't enough time.

However, Anya happened upon him as he was sneaking out the entrance tunnel. She promised to let Aras know he'd left so abruptly and wished him a good journey. He was pleased she didn't ask him why he had to leave so quickly. He couldn't have put words to his fears.

He was going home. His qualms at leaving his steading unprotected had intensified during the night and the conspiratorial looks that Rankil had shared with his men had added to his deep unease. He had an idea of what Rankil's intentions might be.

Quietly, Anya let him out of the entrance tunnel and he glanced hurriedly about. The sun hadn't yet risen but the dark was lessoning and sunrise wouldn't be far away as the purple streak on the horizon testified.

It was bitterly cold and his breath froze in the still air before him. He pulled his fur closer to his throat and wrapped his mouth and nose tightly. He knew it was early morning, but surely it shouldn't be so cold. Without a backwards glance he strode purposefully forwards, not towards Vatna Jokull, but to the side of it, and back towards the coast. Hopefully he'd arrive home before full dark fell.

As he walked he worried and he agonised about Sereh, his mother, his sister, his brother; what his future held for him, the weather and his father. He couldn't believe the burdens he carried with him. He now had responsibilities to so many people, and he feared he'd be able to help none of them. He had even failed to inform Rankil about the burnt steading.

He stopped at points to drink from the water bag he carried. He had nothing else, as he'd not wanted to wait whilst she sorted out food for him and as he'd realised last night, he'd lost his backpack with its small supply of travel food within it. He would be hungry today. Last night's evening meal had been a dismal affair, little better than the peat-cakes and preserved animal blood he'd been surviving on since he'd left his Uncle's. Why did Rankil tolerate it?

It was only as he'd lain awake last night listening to the constant drips of the water and the snores of the other men that he'd realised his backpack was lost, and with it his father's journal. It'd been a heavy blow.

He'd left it in the cave with Sereh and he wondered why he'd not realised sooner. His desire to be away from her and at Rankil's had made him so single minded he'd forgotten both his manners and his backpack. Now that he'd spoken to his sister about Sereh he understood her motivations for escaping and couldn't fault her for taking the opportunity when it presented itself to her. He admired her courage and wished her well for the future.

Throughout the long walk, his thoughts continually returned to Sereh, hoping that she'd found what she'd been looking for crossing Vatna Jokull, and if nothing else, that she managed to evade detection by Rankil.

All that she really needed to do was to enter another of the three Quarters and then she'd be under that Jarl's protection. He hoped she remembered that fact, but feared she didn't. He may have dredged it from his childhood reading and it might not even be common knowledge any more. Maybe he should find her and tell her? Then he'd get to see her again and see with his own eyes that she was safe and well.

The thought was comforting but he knew he'd not do it for all that he found himself remembering the way her hair reflected the dim sunlight as she stooped over him, checking he was breathing. He also remembered her dazzling deep blue eyes. They were so deep he wondered idly if he'd be able to swim in them.

His thoughts troubled him and he wrenched himself back to the reality of what he was doing. He was going to his home, alone, to retrieve his families archive because he feared that Rankil's loyal men were following him and not far behind.

He felt as though he was being chased without ever seeing anyone in the distance. In fact, there were no prints in the pristine blue tinged snow at all. No one else had yet ventured far from their own steading in the continuing atrocious conditions.

Fearfully, he hoped he'd not happen upon another steading containing only the dead. He worried that with the weather so unpredictable the farmhouse he'd found might only been the first of many.

The distance between his own steading and Rankil's was little more than a day's walk in good weather. Now, as the scant sunshine deserted the sky, Erann found himself pushing himself to make it home in one day. He'd not stop or rest until he arrived home, and he'd walk all through the long, dark night, if need be.

The silence was all engulfing as full dark fell, a deep purple. Erann stopped to catch his breath on an exposed rocky outcropping, and to turn to his left to admire the view before him. Vatna Jokull, over which he'd originally traversed to get to Rankil's, stood dark and foreboding in the deep violet. Yet it held an awe-inspiring majesty as the stars began to sparkle in their glory.

The sapphire planet came into view abruptly as the clouds scudded across the sky and he gasped in wonder at the beautiful sight before him. Thousands of tiny gems sparkled in the deepening blue sky and they were reflected by the forbidding ice locked on the glacier. Behind him he heard a sharp snap, and turned in fear.

He could see nothing outlined against the skyline the way he'd come for it was already swathed in thick twilight. No pinpricks of flame pointed to the men he feared followed him.

As he squinted, his eyes glanced upwards and for a moment he feared Frey had disappeared from her position in the sky. He stood for some few moments, barely breathing, intently listening and straining his eyes, until he eventually convinced himself no one was following him. Turning back to his journey, he smirked at his over active imagination. As if a planet could disappear!

Realising exhaustion was playing tricks on his tired mind, he resolved to stop somewhere and sleep. It'd been a far-fetched idea to think he could make the journey in one day when the weather was so poor. Looking around himself, he found an overhang that would offer him some respite from the night air.

Crawling into the small space, careful to keep as much snow out as possible, he pulled his cloak tightly around his body, and closed his eyes. Sleep found him instantly.

* * *

Again he felt a presence searching for his mind. It was irritating as he slept and he restlessly battered at whatever it was with his hands. He wanted to be left alone. His dreams were consuming him as he replayed the events of the last few days. He was beginning to make connections that had so far eluded him. With a deep sign, the presence fled him and he sunk ever more deeply into his recent past.

* * *

Erann watched the men approach the steading, unseen, from his supine position next to Sereh atop the overhang that had protected his home for generation upon generation. Erann was unsure why he felt the compulsion to watch. He knew what the men were going to do; burn down his home and remove the last physical trace of the previous Jarl of the Eastern Quarter. Their actions should forever crush him but he'd come to the realisation as he slept last night, for the last time, in his own home that he felt oddly relieved to be proved right about Rankil's character. He'd spent the last seven rotations hating the man who'd exiled his father, and it was relief that Rankil truly was as evil as he'd thought him to be.

He lay as flat as possible on the uneven snow and ice encrusted overhang. Sereh was quiet besides him. He didn't know her well enough to ascertain if it was because she knew that words wouldn't help or if she simply didn't know what to say. Whatever the reason he was glad of the silence whilst appreciating the company of another person to witness this atrocity.

The day was still enough that the loud talking and shouting going on between the eight men could be distinctly heard even before they came into view, climbing the steep hill on which his steading nestled. Erann found it implausible that after all his forebears had done for their people, it was only going to take the efforts of eight men to bring it all to a crashing end. The flip side was that perhaps Rankil could only rely on a few men to carry out his instructions. The thought slightly cheered him.

The people of the Eastern Quarter, for all their outward acceptance of Rankil, were disturbed by his recent actions. As secluded as his family had become, they were not without friends, and their friends had ensured that the information they had about Rankil always stayed as up to date as it could in a harsh land where transportation was slow and actions normally even slower.

Erann felt sure that this act of wanton destruction would only serve to make him even more unpopular. It was a pity that so many had thought to profit when Rankil had usurped his father's role.

Perhaps with a little more thought on the part of the other farmers, Rankil's quest for power could've been stopped before it'd begun. Erann was sure that people had only gone along with Rankil's ousting of his father through sheer boredom. His people weren't known for being particularly dynamic. Their society had formed and solidified so many generations ago that few questioned anything. That was until Rankil came along and questioned everything.

The men had now reached the steading and after shouting a few derisory comments through the entrance tunnel and after a fair bit of jostling over who was going to go first, had managed to push a large heavyset man inside. Erann wondered bitterly what they expected to find inside. They were more than aware that his mother and brother were visiting his uncle, and that he'd probably returned there.

In a matter of moments the man returned shaking his head and they all rushed indoors, no doubt to steal what they could. They wouldn't find much. His family barely survived on a subsistence level and any family heirlooms were only of value as keepsakes and reminders.

Suddenly, Erann wanted to leave. He told himself that he really didn't need to see what was going to happen next. Yet his body stayed firmly in place and he didn't know if he had the strength to move away. He felt weak and frustrated, emotions he'd come to know far too well since his father's exile.

Luckily for him Sereh made a move to leave, and feeling that he should follow her, he shuffled back down the overhang and retrieved his discarded backpack. As silent tears streamed down his face he turned his back resolutely on everything that had gone before and looking questioningly at Sereh. He didn't want to risk talking in case the sound travelled back to the men on the still day. She shrugged her shoulders at him unsure which way to go. He nodded in understanding and began walking down the hill towards the valley bottom, on the opposite side of the hill to his old home, back towards Vatna Jokull.

They walked in companionable silence. The sun warm on his back and his bulky shadow followed him down the mountain. In the far distance he could see the sun reflecting off Vatna Jokull in an array of every shade of blue imaginable. The glacier was timeless. He knew it had always been there but equally knew that other, smaller glaciers had in the past melted under the sun's heat and drained away into the sea which surrounded his land, in much the same way as his family's place and honour had. Would Vatna Jokull itself one day fall prey to the same fate? Was it really as immutable as he'd always thought his family was?

The wind picked up slightly as he walked and he felt his hair rise and then lower on the top of his head. It jostled him from his internal thoughts and made him look around in surprise. There was no wind. Even Sereh a mere few steps in front of him had not been buffeted by it.

A cool chill ran down his back. He'd felt this sensation before. He remembered now. It was on the glacier when he'd collapsed after his horrifying night spent at the Sweinssons farm where he'd nearly fallen prey to the wolf attack.

His eyes strayed back up the hill in confusion. He saw no one, and nothing. Turning round in confusion he couldn't stop himself from crying out in surprise.

He glanced straight at the fantastical sight in front of him, before blinking quickly and looking away. When he refocused on the spot the huge winged golden creature, with enormous whirling green eyes hovering in the air was gone. He released his breath, only realising as he did so that he'd even been holding it. Hallucinations were a sign of snow blindness and he'd no time for a debilitating illness now.

Sereh glanced at him in concern but Erann kept his face blank, making her think that his cry had been a figment of her imagination and not caused by his. In companionable silence, they continued to walk towards Vatna Jokull and it was only when they turned to face the already sinking pale yellow sun that Sereh spoke in a quiet voice,

"Are you all right Erann? What you've just seen must have been incredibly upsetting?"

Erann considered his answer thoughtfully for a few moments and then replied,

"Honestly, I thought I'd feel devastated. Even when I was up there watching them, I felt devastated. But now. Now I don't, which is odd. However I'm determined to make Rankil pay for his crimes against my family. After we've been to the Librarian I plan on trying to rally some support from amongst the people of the southwest of this Quarter, near my uncle's steading. He mentioned when I took my mother to him that there were mutterings amongst the farmers. Hopefully I'll be able to exploit them and get people to speak out about Rankil at the next Full Council meeting."

Sereh turned her face towards him and he saw her slight smile in the rays of the dying sun,

"Just as long as you have a plan. I was a bit worried that you might end up being as aimless as me. It's one thing to be out from under his control but quite another for someone like me to get some justice."

Erann looked at her with surprise,

"Are you telling me that you have no plan?"

"I did have a plan, sort of. I don't any more. The people I was hoping would help me have perished during the Long Night," she tried to keep the pain out of her voice but it caught as she finished the sentence.

"Where were these people based? I came across a farm where everyone had perished. They'd left a script detailing their names. I should still have it. I meant to leave it with Rankil but forgot in my race to get away from him. Not many rotations ago I would've known who everyone was. Since Rankil, and the 'incident' with my father, we haven't tended to mix much."

Erann stopped and slung his backpack from his shoulders. He opened it and rifled around inside but didn't find the note. In confusion he looked to Sereh and then he remembered that in all likelihood he'd left it inside the building when leaving it so abruptly. He repacked his backpack and returned it to his shoulders.

"Sorry, I must have left it behind on the table. I didn't mean to. I believe they were called the Sweinssons. Were they your friends?"

"Yes, they were. Was it you I have to thank for trying to see to the death rites?" Her voice wobbled as she spoke. In the circumstances he decided it was better to admit that he had, rather than confess to what had really happened.

"Yes, I did. It was a most distressing sight. When you say trying, what do you mean?" His voice faltered. He realised he'd not only failed to ensure that the fire he restarted before he left had caught but he'd also left half eaten and half burned bodies littering the farm for Sereh to see, and they'd been her friends! Guilt rushed through him. He'd been traumatised by what he'd seen and he was merely a stranger. He was amazed at Sereh's composure.

Sereh looked straight at Erann and tried but failed to keep the tears out of her voice and out of her eyes,

"The fire didn't catch properly and there was a wolf attack. They must have come and tried to feed while the fire was burning. Some of the wolves perished in the attack and I had to restart the fire. I made sure it caught fully before I left. Even the animal shed went up in flames." Her voice quieted as she spoke, and staring off into the distance she recounted in a tired voice,

"Estrith and I grew up together. We were both only children and it was easier during the Long Night to spend time with each other than be on our own with our parents. We used to take it in turns to spend each Long Day with our families but each Long Night with each other. Luckily for her she was away from my family's home when my parents died, otherwise she'd probably have ended up with me as Rankil's virtual prisoner."

"She kept in touch with me, always coming to see me at the Council. She couldn't get her own family or her husband's family to intervene with Rankil for me, but she tried," Sereh said shrugging her shoulders in resignation. "No one else did."

Erann wasn't sure who Sereh's comment was aimed at and as they walked onto Vatna Jokull his thoughts were distracted by the strangest thing he'd ever seen. In front of him, as far as the eye could see, was a giant opaque purple wall. It shimmered and swirled in the opalescent rays from the sun. This time his loud gasp of surprise did startle Sereh, especially as he also stopped, dead, in his tracks. He could only imagine the look on his face as Sereh glanced at him in confusion, tears still falling down her face as she recounted her past and he paid no attention to her words. Her voice trailed off as she looked at him in confusion.

The wall seemed to cover the entire glacier. He'd never seen it before, not even on his journey to Rankil's when he'd stumbled over the glacier by chance. He wondered where it'd come from. He stepped forwards to touch it and as he did blue sparks leapt from its surface and floated off into the clear sky. He watched them fade away in wonder and turned back to the wall.

Sereh was still staring at him, Arrow by her side, as Erann feebly pointed towards it. She followed where his finger pointed and Erann anticipated her looking back at him, her face a mirror of his. Instead she turned back with a quizzical look on her face. He was driven to say,

"What, have you seen this before?"

She looked at him blankly before speaking,

"Seen what? Vatna Jokull, of course I have, I walked across it when I was escaping from Rankil, and it's where I found you."

"No, not the glacier, the purple thing, the thing all around Vatna Jokull." His voice barely contained his frustration at her stating the obvious. Her head flicked back quickly and he could see her scowling at the view in front of him. Arrow started to whine.

"What are you talking about Erann?" Her response was as exasperated as his had been to hers.

He was astonished,

"Can't you see it? Seriously, can't you see it? It's huge. It stretches from here", and Erann touched where the wall started with his hand, sending a further trail of blue sparks into the still day, "all the way across Vatna Jokull, at least that's what it looks like from here." His voice held wonder and suppressed excitement.

Sereh turned and peered at Vatna Jokull but again she turned back to him perplexed,

"Are you sure you're okay Erann? What you've just seen was really, really stressful and I imagine you haven't eaten properly for days, what with you leaving your backpack with me, and I know only too well the awful food served by Rankil."

Erann was dumbfounded. Sereh had moved forward to stand with him and was literally standing in the middle of the wall sending up a steady stream of blue sparks and yet she was totally unaware of it.

He stepped bodily through the wall, noticing the pale purple it pulsed when he entered it and the stream of sparks floating away. He turned to look at it from the other side. From this side he couldn't see anything. He stepped back to stand by Sereh and realised that the entire thing was no longer visible.

Thoroughly unnerved Erann took a step forward through the now invisible wall. He felt nothing and could see nothing. He reached his hand back up to where the wall had been mere moments ago in confusion.

Sereh was looking really concerned now and Erann realised he needed to forcibly pull himself together or she'd have him pegged with snow blindness for sure. With visible effort he looked at Sereh and shrugged his shoulders,

"Maybe it's been a more intense day than I thought. Come on, we need to get as far away from here as possible."

He strode forward purposefully, knowing that Sereh and Arrow would follow. He was quiet as he walked thinking about the things he thought he'd seen. What was happening to him, because in his heart, he knew in one day he had seen a mythical golden dragon with huge whirling green eyes, and a huge shimmering, purple shield that covered the whole of Vatna Jokull.

Chapter 7 - The Librarian

He turned aside from his copying task with the realisation he'd been right after all. The time was now.

All the endless waiting and rotations of inactivity were about to come to an end. In his blue tinged library he took in the nearly endless array of scripts which had all been neatly written, and then copied by his hand, to preserve them.

Some of the original scripts yet remained. Most had perished in the inhospitable conditions that ravaged the land. As air tight and water tight as his Library was, there'd still been occasions over the rotations when damage had occurred that couldn't be repaired. In all that time he'd never left to seek more suitable accommodation. His place was here, as it would continue to be.

For the first time in many rotations, he picked up one of the yellow glowing candles lighting his room and turned aside from his desk to ascend the steep steps dug into the black granite of his basement home. His knees cracked as he lifted his legs and he felt a dull ache at the base of his spine. He should've kept in better condition.

He clutched the handrail with his free hand and used it to pull himself up the ten steps. At the top, he paused to regain his breath before pushing on the heavy wooden door that groaned under his hands. He smiled to himself bitterly. He'd never oiled the door. It allowed him to know when others entered his domain.

The door opened onto a long corridor. He turned right, and walked along the wooden floor, his feet making quiet shushing noises with each step. It was warmer up here. Not that it was cold in his Library, rather the fire in the kitchen warmed the upstairs living quarters, not the heat of the rocks. But he'd not come for the heat. He'd come to see for himself.

The candle flame shifted slightly in the breeze flowing through the corridor but didn't gutter. It was still night outside. He'd forgotten the time of day when deciding to make his journey. It didn't matter. What he came to see would be obvious regardless of the time of day.

He shuffled past a row of closed doors, finally making his way to the main entrance to the building. He'd have preferred simply to peer through one of the open shutters, but they were still tightly in place, keeping the heat in and the cold out. That should have been all the confirmation he needed at this time of the rotation, but instead, he decided to look for himself.

The main door was elaborate in its construction, carved from a bronzed wood and gleaming under the light of his candle. The door bars were in place. Quietly he removed them and easily swung the door inwards. His candle instantly gutted, and he cursed to himself. He'd need to walk back in the dark now.

Luckily the thickly lying snow outside shone silver in the light from the stars, and he was able to see clearly its staggering extent. It was all the confirmation he needed, and shivering from the sudden cold, he closed the door, slipping the door bar back in place and retraced his footsteps back to his Library. He'd seen all that was needed. All he needed to do now was waiting a little bit longer. An easy enough task. He'd waited for many long rotations already.

Chapter 8 - Speaker

He walked through the cavernous cave, dark apart from the faint green illumination, seeming to pulse from within the dull black rocks of its construction. His eyes feasted again on the vivid images projected onto the inky surface as he watched them swirl from one bright impression of his kind to another.

He loved it here. He could clearly remember the first time he'd visited the archive. He'd been astounded by the sights before him and even more amazed that his brothers and sister had not been as equally dumbstruck as he'd been.

He'd been sent to be tested that day. To see if he would live up to his genetic inheritance and if he'd be able to fulfil the position that his eyes had predisposed him to. He was glad he'd passed the test and been gifted with the opportunity to visit the archive whenever he wished. The only others of his kind who could visit had to obtain special permission from the Speaker and they were never allowed to see the full extent of the treasures.

That said, not that many of his kind were overly interested in the Archives. They lived their lives knowing that the Speaker was ensconced within the Archives and that everything he did was for the good of his kind.

There were always the odd one or two whose curiosity couldn't be quenched by the stories given to them as children. They were the ones to whom the Archive was a glittering expanse of knowledge just waiting to be discovered. They were restricted from stepping more than a few body lengths inside the archive, and when they did visit, he'd watched the images they were allowed to see. None of them was even a half as informative as those he saw, and he didn't doubt that when he became Speaker himself, even more, would be made available to him.

One day his unique skills would force him to live away from his home, and he'd have to dwell within this vast cave complex, alone. The thought didn't upset him anymore. As an adolescent, he'd worried and wondered how he'd survive without his parents care.

Fortunately, he'd not been called to his position during those few difficult rotations, and as much as he wanted to see more and expand his knowledge, he didn't fret impatiently for the day when the entire Archive would be completely open to him. He had rotations and rotations ahead of him and although he didn't wish to become Speaker only to sicken and die of old age, neither did he want to be the youngest Speaker of his kind, ever.

He wasn't allowed to meet the current Speaker. Not until the time of the Speaker's death would they be allowed to meet. For now, he had the occasional use of some of the Speaker's servants, and they provided him with intermittent images from the Speaker. There was never anything substantial to the visions, only ever a concern for his well-being and his health.

The servants were a strange race. He knew them only as the Others. He'd never seen anything like them before. They were so different from his kind and so small. They scurried around on their two legs, busily maintaining the secretive home of the Speaker and seeing to his needs.

He was always treated with courtesy when he came to wallow in the deep, warm pools lying invitingly under the flickering images and likewise, he treated them with the courtesy due to the representatives of the Speaker, but he often found himself wondering about them. How had they come to be here? Why were they servants to the Speaker? Why did the stories he had seen on the walls show him so many more of the Others? Why was their existence such a closely guarded secret from the rest of his kind?

He liked to lie back in the heated pools and stare at the shifting images above his head that revealed his kind's past. The soft trickling of the water as it dripped through the series of graduated pools often caused him to sleep while he bathed. Sometimes when his eyes were closed, he understood things he'd seen that previously made no sense to him. Sometimes he was convinced that he could understand the whispers of the Others even though it was impossible. They used speech. His kind spoke mind to mind.

He was sure that of late he'd followed the softly lit winding passages to the Archives more frequently than previously. He was becoming increasingly irritated by his brothers and sister and sought to gain some time alone from them. As the oldest, he'd always been the one to play with them and make up games and stories for them, but now he found the activity tiresome and only craved the peace and quiet so that he could think his thoughts. Much of what he considered revolved around the obvious secrets contained within the Archives of which even his family had no knowledge.

He entered the deepest pool of the five individual pools and lay back, letting the heat still his mind following his brother's latest annoying prank. He cleared his mind and instead focused on the image directly above his head of his kind, arrayed in all their bright colours.

Before them stood a party of the Others. They looked dour and tiny compared to his ancestors. Their clothes were muted colours, and their faces looked small and pinched, and if he was honest with himself, afraid. He didn't know the story behind the images. He wouldn't know such important details until he was the Speaker himself. Still, he could admire the blindingly bright colours and the view of what his home must look like outside the caves they were all constrained within.

Unbidden his eyes closed as he finally relaxed for the first time all day. Mere moments had passed before he felt a loud grumbling all around him. He didn't panic or rise from the pool. It was simply the rocks talking. It was common in the caves his kind lived within.

However, on this occasion, he was shocked by the force of the shudders stirring the water of his pool to such a height that it went completely over his head. He had to shake his head to clear the water from his green eyes that snapped open in startled surprise. He felt a loud crash and looked instinctively out towards the heart of the cave system with alarm.

He felt a low moan close by and the level of the water shuddered around him again. He turned back and examined the surface of his pool. There was a hollow in the deep water as if something had fallen. His prominent green eyes were not good at looking at through water, and so it took him some time to realise that there was something resting at the bottom of the pool. He was unsure what it was but as soon as the rocking and shaking sensation ended he swam swiftly over to the area of the pool where the object had fallen.

Instantly he realised that it was one of the Others. He'd thought he was alone in the room. He reached down with his massive front claws and pulled the tiny creature up so that it was free of the water; he doubted that it could survive under water for long. His kind certainly couldn't. As he held the Other clear of the water, he noticed its face looked oddly shaped and was covered in streaming red fluid. He wondered what it was, holding the light, unresponsive body within his glinting claws.

At that moment, another Other ran into the pooled area. It stopped abruptly, watching him with an unfathomable expression on its face. He gently lifted the creature onto the black surface by the side of the pool. The Other instantly coughed, and the dry Other made as if to run towards it, stopping well short and away from him when it remembered that he was there. He saw something in the eyes of the Other which instinctive told him was fear and made him immediately back away from the wet and coughing Other he'd deposited on the side.

As soon as he was away from the wet Other, the other one ran forward and picked it up awkwardly and carried it away. The Other was muttering something incoherent to itself and unbidden an image entered his mind, of the current Speaker trapped and motionless under an enormous jagged piece of rock shaken loose when the cave shook. It was instantly replaced with an image of himself lifting the body clear of the water. He shook his head to clear the visions, but they worried and confused him.

As the Others stumbled away towards their living quarters, he jumped from the invitingly warm pool and landed on the smooth surface. He cooled instantly to his normal body temperature. Usually, he worked his way through the slightly cooler pools before leaving the Archives.

He shuffled forward, holding his dripping tail high above the ground and went into the tunnel that led from the pools to the home of the Speaker. He'd never been through it before. It was exclusively for the use of the Speaker.

The tunnel was long and dark, illuminated only by the same dim green glow that lit the Archives. He was unsure of the exact distance of the tunnel and was surprised by its sudden ending as it opened into another huge cave surrounded by more images of his kind.

The huge space was lit by a massive piece of jade stone dominating the centre of the cave, casting light into the deepest recesses of the large space. By it, he could see what he feared. The current Speaker was lying trapped under a huge slab of rock which had sheered straight off the roof during the tremor. The dead Speaker's eyes were wide open and staring, and in their slowly dimming brightness, he could see his own dripping wet image reflected.

He rushed forwards towards the tangled remains of Speaker and broken rock. All around him, he could see the Others standing, sullen and quiet. Many of them also seemed to be dripping the same red substance as the one he'd rescued. A part of his overwhelmed mind vaguely wondered how severe the tremor had been. Had it affected other areas of the cave system? He hoped that none of his family was trapped by rock falls.

The Others all looked at him, and their stance told him everything he needed to know. There was nothing to be done. The Speaker was dead. The fallen rock had crushed his massive head, and now purple blood oozed all over the dark stone floor. He wrenched his eyes away from the shocking scene before him. What was he to do now? His training was nowhere near complete. He should've had rotations to learn his trade from the Speaker.

Once he had realised his time was nearly at an end, this Speaker should have allowed him deep within the Archives and there offered advice and guidance. That meant only one thing; the current Speakers death had not been foretold. It was unheard of for such a thing to happen.

He'd received no advice, no words; no nothing from the current Speaker. Until now, he'd not even known what he looked like, other than that he'd possess the same glowing green eyes as himself. All he knew was that he'd been bequeathed a legacy he knew nothing about. How was he to guide his kind now?

He returned to his pool, shocked and unsure what else to do. He submerged himself in the gently steaming water. He needed to think, and this was where he'd always retreated to in the past. All around him, he could sense the shuffling of the Others. He tuned them out, aware only that they were doing as they should. They knew their duties. He just wished he did.

The images above his head were revolving as normal; only as he focused on a bright scene, he'd not glimpsed before he realised that all the images were new to him. Always before the pictures had been the same, and he knew them by heart. There were views of his home within the cave system; views of his kind and the Others, and views of the stars and planets that lived in the, previously off limits, sky.

He gasped in astonishment as he watched the pictures change and a calming presence enter his mind explaining all he saw. Above his head, the images were showing him what to do now. But how could the pictures know that the Speaker was dead?

He absorbed what he saw, worried that he'd already missed much that he needed to know. It was with relief that the pictures had started to repeat.

He lay in the water as the entire sequence repeated three times. Only then did he feel able to move; to walk towards his new home and his new duties. He felt calmer, more assured. The future no longer scared, but excited him.

* * *

For some days, Greeneyes returned periodically to his pool from the cave he'd now adopted as his own. The Others had seen to the removal of the body of his predecessor, and somehow, had even managed to move the cause of his death. Idly he wondered where the body and the rock had gone.

Each time the images were new and different, while the presence remained calm and orderly within his mind. All of the instructions taught him how to be the Speaker.

He was now the most powerful amongst his kind, and he had freedoms he'd never thought imaginable. He could leave the sanctuary of his home; in fact, it was his duty to fly the length and breadth of his large, cold land each rotation to ensure all was well and to note any irregularities in ice formation, mountain structure or in the extent of the Others habitations.

He must also check the structure of the wall that masked their existence and carry out any necessary repairs. The presence implied that further instructions would be forthcoming, if and when, repairs were needed. Greeneyes had not even been aware of the wall before he saw it in the images and instantly wondered how and why it worked.

There were images of the Others and the presence warned that his people should mix only with those who resided within the caves. There was an explanation at last, of why his kind lived separate from the Others, and why their existence was a closely guarded secret from the rest of the Others.

It had not always been, but the Others were ruthless killers, intent only on murdering as many of his kind as they could. His kind had retreated to the cave behind their shield to keep their population safe from the savages. Images showed scores of his dead being trampled over by the Others and robbed for their shining eyes and glittering scales.

Those who served him now were a select few who'd sought shelter with them and offered to serve in thanks. Their descendants now served in their places and were not allowed to leave the cave to return to their people. If they attempted it, he had a duty to return them to the cave or to kill them if they refused. The thought was not comforting but explained the presence of a race that the majority of his kind knew nothing about.

Their presence on his land explained all the strictures about remaining within the cave system and not venturing outside the sheltered inner cave systems. He wondered how he'd come to know of the Others but never to speak of them to his family. He didn't remember being told to not to mention them. Was there some greater force at work that even now he wasn't aware of?

Eventually, a day came when he had no new images to see and the presence in his head, quietened. He worried briefly, spending much of the day lying in the pool waiting for more strictures before coming to the conclusion that he must've been taught everything he needed to know, for now.

He retreated to his new home.

He took to spending much of the time on his icy ledge that afforded him beautiful views of his homeland and which lay next to his personal cavern. He was not forced to dwell within the huge cavern where his predecessor had met his death.

His green eyes allowed him to see even in the darkness. In the far distance, he could see the faint purple shimmer of the wall, now his duty to maintain. He could also see a dazzling vista of sparkling stars in the permanent midnight sky and could see them mirrored in the icy surface of the glacier his home perched near.

All that he'd learnt lead him to pity the Others. They knew so little. Soon they'd erupt forth from their Long Night prisons, and he knew that then he'd have to fly further than ever before. He'd need to check their current numbers. It was critical that he do so.

It was easier to do in the Long Day. While his eyesight meant he could see regardless of the presence of the Sun, the Others struggled more. They couldn't endure the freezing conditions and so remained in their homes for all the Long Night. It was impossible to count them while the Sun refused to rise, and they remained locked up tight to keep warm. In a few days, he'd be able to. He looked forward to the challenge, and waited, somewhat impatiently for the Sun to finally crest the horizon.

* * *

By the time the sun had finally risen he'd almost decided upon making his voyage, sunlight or not. When he woke from his comfortable stone bed thirty days after becoming Speaker and noticed the pale ray of purple sunlight touching the far reaches of his cave, where it joined with his ledge, he was pleased. At last.

While his journey had initially filled him with trepidation when the presence had first explained it to him, he was now so excited and intrigued that the simple physical test ahead no longer seemed daunting. He'd fed well yesterday in anticipation of his decision to go today, sunrise or not and now he was ready.

He walked towards his ledge and positioning himself near the edge of the sharp drop, descending almost beyond sight below him, he made a mighty sweep of his wings, testing them once or twice before lifting himself off the frozen rock. The sharp wind aided his buoyancy as he worked out how to balance himself.

With exhilaration he moved away from the ledge, flying free and easily for the first time in his life as his golden wings pumped up and down in the glow of the first sunrise. In the past, he'd been restricted to the false environment of the inner caves. This was an entirely new experience.

He flew directly forwards, across the expanse of the massive glacier below his home as it reflected his image back to him. His speed amazed him, and it took until the sun was high in the pale sky before he started to notice anything else about the landscape below him. Its diversity surprised him; from the frozen green rivers to the icy blue glaciers, the snow encrusted purple high peaked mountains, to the dark green sea trapped for the time being under the ice and the black topped mountains with no snow on their peaks.

He looked for the homes of the Others, but it was impossible to see details of their habitation as the snow lay too thick. He looked below him at the sparkling expanse of shimmering snow, above him at the low-lying fluffy clouds and at the orange sun where it pulsed weakly in the clear sky. As he hovered over the ice-locked sea he turned and looked at the distance he'd flown. He could just see his snow-shrouded home, barely discernable from all the other mountains dotting the landscape.

Everything he saw was perfect and pristine, new and fresh. He saw everything with new eyes. It was one thing to see his home in the images on the cave wall. It was quite another to see it for real and to know that he was now the only one of his kind who would see what he saw until his life ended.

The wind was gentle on his face, only occasionally buffeting him. When it did he temporarily lost his height and had to work again to regain it. He was not used, as were any of his kind, to being out in the open. They were restricted to their home in the giant extinct volcanoes where the wind speed and direction were regulated. Away from his safe home, it was another matter entirely. Greeneyes knew he should feel worried. He wasn't. The thrill of it all was too much. Such freedom. He'd never thought his new position would afford him such luxury.

As he flew he felt strong and with each downward stroke of his wings, he seemed to gain strength, not lose it, as he'd feared. Then he saw it in his peripheral vision; one of the Others, outside one of their homes. If he'd thought them small before, now they appeared minuscule from his great height. What he assumed was their home appeared as a small snow covered rock some wing strokes later. Only its regular shape confirming what it was.

Following his first success, he looked more keenly and even flew much closer to the snow encased land to see them. He didn't. Not anywhere he looked. None of them. He saw what he assumed were more homes, but never another Other. It made him curious.

He flew and continued looking, only becoming conscious of how long he'd been gone when the multitude of stars, his firm friends for the last thirty days, began to sparkle, crystalline, in the blackening sky above his head. It was a beautiful crisp evening and yet the wind was bitterly cold, even through his tough skin.

With a final glance at the ice-locked ocean, he turned and beat his huge wings steadily home. He was shocked. The wind was battering against him making every downward stroke an effort, while he had to restrain his upward strokes from cracking upwards too quickly and forcing his wings to meet above his body.

He began to feel the first stirrings of fear. For every one of his great wing strokes, he moved only a little way forward. His speed of earlier had vanished.

Battling his fear, he decided on an alternative plan. He fought his way higher and higher. So high, the land was a tiny, shining multi-hued jewel beneath him. Up so high the going was sort of easier. The wind was less robust, but there also seemed to be less of everything, and he found himself struggling for air to fill his mighty lungs. After only a few short moments, his wings seemed to double in weight, and he was left with no choice but to return closer to the ground.

As he dropped lower his wings returned to their normal weight and the wind to its previous ferocity. Feeling exhausted Greeneyes decided there was nothing for it. He'd land and wait out the night before returning home in the first rays of early morning sunlight.

He'd had a rude awakening about his limitations. Perhaps the warning from his lessons in the cave shouldn't be ignored after all. He must only fly during daylight hours.

He'd not practised landing in the open before, and it took him a few moments to get both front claws down at the same time on the piece of land he'd chosen to spend the remainder of the night. It seemed less exposed than much of the land around him, although, in the dusk, it was difficult to correctly identify all the dips and peaks of the uniform landscape.

He landed with a loud thump on a rocky outcropping. His eyes could see no hidden caves in the vicinity, so he curled up for the night, his mighty head under his majestic wing. His tough hide would keep his head warm all night long, and with daybreak, he'd be able to resume flying. The prospect excited him more than scared him, and he contentedly prepared to rest.

The wind continued to howl, and an initial splattering of snow soon became a full blown storm. As it landed on his hide, he smiled. It felt soft, and he idly wondered if when he woke he'd look like a snow-encased rock. The thought amused him, and he found himself laughing inside. He felt free, and he felt powerful. It was intoxicating.

He also found he was in pain. All across his long back, there was a stabbing sensation he'd never experienced before. He reasoned it must be caused by the distance he'd flown that day.

He hoped the pain would lesson by the sunrise as; otherwise, it would be painful to fly. It was already more than a little uncomfortable to curl his head under his wing. He tried changing wings, but they both equally hurt his back the same. In the end, he resolved to keep his head out from under the protection of his wings. It was just too uncomfortable to keep it covered. He'd be warm enough, and he'd be able to watch for the first rays of sunlight. He felt too exhilarated to close his eyes anyway.

As fall dark settled he contented himself with looking at where he'd chosen to make his bed for the night. He was near an exposed ridge, stretching for a long distance to either side of where he lay. He thought that below the ridge there was part of his glacier and in the same moment realised he'd managed to fly against the force of the wind for longer than he'd thought. He was not far from home after all. But as the wind continued to howl, and the snow to fall in huge sheeting gusts, he decided he'd made the correct decision to stop and wait out the storm. There were currently none of his kind who shared his unique ability, and it would be catastrophic if he killed himself in the wind and left no one to govern his kind.

At some point during the long night, he became aware of a constant noise. It was loud or faint, depending on the wind but it was always there. He tried to ignore it but found he couldn't. He also felt a strange 'something' pressing on his mind, as if it was shouting for his attention.

Eventually, he lumbered back to his feet and followed both the audible noise, and that which hung in his mind, hoping to find its source. It was deepest black all around him; only his keen eyes allowed him to pick a path from his temporary resting place to where he hoped the source of the noise was. The wind still screeched, and he closed his lower eyelids against the constantly blowing snow.

As he came closer to the source of the noise, he started to notice small filled in prints in the snow. They made him wonder if perhaps one of the Others had come this way and was responsible for the noise? He considered stopping there and then, after all, he'd been warned to stay away from them and following his experience with night flying; he was tempted to heed the advice.

Half turned to head back towards his resting place; his curiosity overcame his caution, and he continued to follow the prints and the noise. He looked behind as he went, realising the was leaving huge footprints in the snow, which clearly showed his five claws. He dropped his tail into the soft substance to obscure the signs of his passage. He didn't want one of the Others to find his prints and wonder where they came from. It was forbidden for him to expose himself or his kind to any of the Others who didn't live in the cave.

As he came closer to the noise he detected a certain weakening to it. He assumed that it was becoming weak with exhaustion. He hurried on with a now desperate desire to see what it was and help it if he could.

After a few more dragon lengths, his eyes found and fixed on a small bundle on a rocky outcropping. By now the noise had fallen to a soft whimper both audible and within his mind and he hurried forward, concern getting the better of any doubts he had about his actions.

In only moments he looked down at the small bundle, realising with a shock that it was one of the Others. A little one. Its face was red from screaming, and its eyes were slowly closing and opening as it fought the cold. Its thoughts must have been trying to infiltrate his mind before but now those thoughts were faint.

He reached out to touch it with one of his claws and could feel the cold emanating from its entire body above and beyond his chill. He retracted his claw. The Other caught sight of him and let out a pitifully brief screech before lapsing into silence. It seemed to have kicked free of most of its coverings, which lay scattered around it. It lay with its body exposed to the harsh chill. It was also perilously close to the edge of the rock. He peered over and saw the long drop to the glacier below. He felt sure the drop would kill this little thing if it should fall.

He looked all around him for whoever had brought the bundle but could see nothing. The tiny Other was alone. Then his eyes alighted on the prints he'd been following. He could tell now that they led both here and then away from the ridge. He was shocked. The bundle had been left here on purpose. Why? He couldn't comprehend why the small Other had been abandoned in this way.

He didn't know what made him do it, but he reached forward and picked the bundle up in his giant front claws. It had stopped crying now and had its eyes closed. His mind was also free from its thoughts. Greeneyes looked at it in wonder. He'd never seen a small Other before, and it fascinated him. It looked just like those who dwelled within his cave, but it was tiny. He wondered why it hadn't just moved away on its own.

He hobbled away from the wind exposed outcropping while still holding the bundle in his one front claw. It was uncomfortable, but he managed on his back legs and other front claw. He quickly settled back into his recently abandoned snow hollow and studied the tiny bundle. The features were perfect, and one of its hands had curled around one of his claws with a grip tighter than he thought possible for something so small.

He made a snap decision. He'd warm it and take it back with him when the sun rose.

His decision made he wrapped his head and the bundle under his left wing, protected from the still screaming wind and steady snowfall. Resolutely, he ignored the pain which shot along his back. He needed to warm the Other.

Morning arrived, eventually, in a profusion of reds and browns, stealing silently across the raised parts of the land. It seemed to miss the glacier entirely. He'd become aware dawn was coming by the abrupt cessation of the wind. Shaking the snow loose from his giant body and still cradling the bundle, leapt awkwardly into the frigid sky. Full sunrise saw him already landing on his home ledge, piled high with freshly fallen snow.

Once there he was unsure what to do. The bundle had woken on arrival and was making a pitiful noise. He wondered what it wanted. It was certainly warm enough now. He stood there, confused, for some time. Why had he brought it back with him? He reasoned it was probably because he'd been explicitly told not to, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe his reasoning was flawed, and his actions had merely been instinctive.

As the bundle woke up its whimpers turned to howls and Greeneyes could feel panic building. He could also detect hunger pangs from it entering his mind. He stared at it, and it batted at his claw, while all the time screaming. He turned his head to look at it from a different angle, seeing it for the first time in full light with its tufty hair and bright blue eyes, but it continued to scream, and he didn't know what to do.

The sunlight was seeping slowly onto his ledge, distracting him by the glistening view of the frozen glacier in front of him and only when he looked back did he realise the bundle had quietened. With relief, he saw why. One of the Others had come to look at the source of the noise and was now cradling it in their arms.

It was the same one who he'd met on the day of his predecessor's death. He tried to look encouraging but wasn't sure that he did. The Other slowly backed away from him, taking the bundle away. Greeneyes hoped that meant the Other would look after it and indeed received the flash of an image of the bundle being fed and warmed before a massive fire.

He retreated from the ledge and into his cave as full sunrise turned his world to blue and white. He needed to think about his actions.

* * *

A day and a night passed until his curiosity became too much to stand and he ventured out again. The length of daylight was so short that he doubted many of the Others would have emerged from their homes but still there was a nagging desire to be active after so much inactivity. He felt as though he'd been waiting for his freedom all his life and he didn't want to squander it now.

During the day and night he'd spent at home he'd considered his motivations in rescuing the small Other. Eventually, he'd come to the conclusion that he'd acted instinctively, from a need to save something too weak to fend for itself. But he'd been left feeling uncertain about himself for the first time since accepting his role as Speaker.

If he could feel like that about the Others, did that make him unworthy of his position? The Speaker was supposed to be detached from the needs of the Others, able to only consider his kind. The presence had taught him so. There was a contradiction in what the presence had cautioned and what happened, for his kind relied on the Others to help maintain the secrecy of the Speaker.

He'd thought through the dilemma so much he'd grown restless and angry with himself. Finally, he'd banished the thought. He was the Speaker. He'd been chosen. There was no other to take his place. It was his now. He would simply have to learn to act with more wisdom and less impulsively.

And so he leapt from his extensive ice locked ledge and immediately felt the exhilaration of his freedom all over again. The gentle wind flowed beneath his massive wings as he powered through the air following the same journey of a few days ago.

As the sun lightened the blackened land beneath him, he detected a small scattering of smoking chimneys and even the occasional Other, scurrying over the surface of his land. He counted those he saw as he flew, mindful of the strictures of the presence and when he reached the far distant coast, where blue ice met green, he turned back in surprise. So few. He'd barely counted any.

To be sure he flew back the way he'd come and then far across the Southern parts of the land. Again he detected a few smoking chimneys and a few Others, but no animals and nothing like the number of dwellings he'd been led to expect by the images in his cave. It puzzled him greatly.

To confirm his suspicions he flew west and north as well with always the same result. It unnerved him in a way he didn't understand. Surely he should feel relief at the lack of numbers.

But he didn't.

He didn't know what he felt, but it certainly wasn't satisfaction that the Others seemed so few in numbers.

As the scant light began to flee from the sky he was hovering over the Eastern lands. Soon the wind would turn ferocious, and he knew he should leave but something drew him back and kept him firmly rooted in position. He didn't know what it was and doubted that acceding to his instincts would do him any good.

He'd almost decided to leave when suddenly he felt hungry, amazingly hungry. Such hunger. It puzzled him. He'd only fed yesterday, why should he need to eat again? Yes, he'd flown a long way during his day but not enough to warrant the pangs that ran through his stomach and made it clench with pain.

Temporarily he lost height as discomfort engulfed him and his wings faltered. Struggling to retain his height he noticed movement below him. Pale shapes were slinking across the snow so indistinct on the uniform surface that if they'd not been in motion he'd not have seen them in the deepening dusk.

The animals were moving in a pack towards the home of one of the Others. The realisation came all at once. He could smell it. He could almost taste it. With an effort he reasserted his thoughts inside his head, pushing those of the pack below him to the edge of his consciousness. He hovered, fascinated by what he was seeing and had been feeling. The pack must be broadcasting their needs and desires enabling him to feel them too.

The wolves circled the building cautiously, and then one of them thrust itself at a part of it that Greeneyes reasoned must be the entrance. There was a sharp splintering sound and the animals all rushed into the building, and the smell rushed out, gently rotting flesh.

The Others inside were dead. They must have perished during the dark times. While he couldn't see what was happening within the dwelling, the noises coming from inside told him the story quite eloquently. The content images of the wolves on finally being able to fill their bellies swam with his thoughts even though he tried to keep them at bay.

Fascinated by what was happening, he was unable to wrench himself away from the wolves feast. Nothing the presence had taught him had made him think it was possible to perceive the thoughts of other animals. Certainly, when living with his family, he'd not been able to see their ideas. Now he was acutely aware that he'd seen images from the small Other, and had now had his senses overwhelmed by the hungry wolf pack.

And then he felt something else. At first, he didn't understand the feeling that went with the images, but he understood the images immediately.

Without thinking, he landed abruptly, with a sharp snap of his huge golden wings, some distance from the squat dwelling. He folded them against his body and stepped forward on the deep snow. He saw footprints in the snow that didn't belong to the wolves, and he followed them holding his tail low to obscure his massive prints. The trail ended abruptly, and comprehension dawned. There was an Other here. They'd sought shelter within this part of the dwelling. They were alive and terrified.

Fear filled him, and he fought to regain hold of his mind. It was harder to push the fear away than it had been to drive away the hunger.

Once he reasserted himself he acted instinctively. The wolves were starving. Ravenous. They would eat everything here, and that included the Other sheltering inside the steading. One of the wolves had already picked up the scent and was busily sniffing around the prints he'd followed. It was about to alert his co-hunters to the presence of warm meat, but before he could open his mouth to howl, Greeneyes batted him with his front paw. The white wolf went down with a yelp and rushed back to the colder meal waiting for him inside, terror pulsing from him in waves, unable to see his invisible assailant.

He followed the injured wolf more sedately and returned to the entrance where he could hear the pack gorging. He didn't begrudge them their meal, but from the thoughts in his mind, he knew that the Other did.

He couldn't get inside the steading to drive them away as he was too large and so he took the next available action. Taking a deep breath, and hoping that the presence had told him the correct information, he thought of searing hot flames and with a rush of exhaled air blew all over the snow encased building. It was remarkably easy provided his thoughts were focused entirely on his intentions.

The fire caught hold quickly, and some of the wolves yelped and scattered out of the open door at the burning stench of sodden turf and wood. Not all of them rushed out. Some were too hungry to care, and they preferred their meal to their lives. They burnt quickly in the ensuing inferno with loud yelps and whimpers of pain. He banished the images he received from their minds. He had needed to act to save the Other. He couldn't regret his actions.

The burning smell attacked his nostrils, and he took to the air with a loud snap of his wings. Only when he hovered over the dwelling did he realise that the flames would burn the entire steading including the part where the Other sheltered.

Quickly he landed again and doused the inferno with a cooling breath. Then he leapt swiftly back into the air. He journeyed home battling the violent night winds. What had he done now? And more importantly, what had made him feel so protective towards one of the Others. Again!

Although he berated himself all night long for his actions, unable to find sleep, he found himself flying through the first faint rays of the new day. He needed to see exactly what he'd done. He felt ill at ease with himself. He'd killed animals on an instinctive reaction. The presence had issued no directive that it was wrong to do so. It left him feeling ill at ease with himself.

It took him next to no time to arrive at the blackened steading, still smoking in the frozen day. The only part still completely standing was the end where the Other had sheltered the night before. The door to the main steading lay open and deserted when he poked his huge head inside the smouldering remains.

There were at least two burnt wolf bodies scattered around the wrecked building for all that his view was incomplete. There were also the bodies of the Others. While he knew they'd been dead before they were set upon by the wolves, it distressed him to see the mangled wreck the wolves had made of them. Two bodies had their stomachs ripped out, and entrails lay all over the floor. Blood covered the nose of the dead wolves. They'd eaten well before their untimely death.

He withdrew his head from the entrance. Emotions were pulsing through him that were difficult to equate with anything he'd ever felt before. On the one hand, he felt grief for the mutilated family, while on the other he understood the instincts of the wolves. They'd been hungry and had chanced upon a meal to slack their hunger. Should he have intervened? Was it not the way of his home world that some must suffer so that some could survive? Was that not the very lesson he was supposed to take away from the Others who dwelled within his home?

As his mind swirled with questions he couldn't answer he examined the refrozen dirty snow and saw there were sets of footprints leading away from the building where the Other had sheltered last night. He took to the air again with a sharp snap and backed his mighty golden wings so that he could follow the footprints without even questioning his motives. The death of the wolves was forgotten with the crack of his wings.

The footprints weaved uncertainly from side to side, and every so often went some way in one direction, before returning to their original course. He was intrigued as to why, until he caught up with the Other making the tracks. It was staggering from side to side. He was amazed that it was making any progress at all.

At times, the Other crawled forward on its knees, and as it moved loud choking noises emanated from it. The thoughts that flowed to him were incoherent and irritating as he attempted to call his mind his own. Still, he carried on following the Other, hopeful that he'd understand the link he felt and decipher why he'd helped it.

Eventually, frustration overcame him as the day reached its peak, and he flew high, away from the staggering figure in front of him. His wings cracked as he gained height in the peaceful day, struck for the first time by the noise his movement made. He'd never realised before.

With every downward stroke of his mighty wings, there was a sharp snap as if he one of the Others had dropped something on the hard granite floor of his caves. He wondered that the Other below didn't hear the noise he made. The sound throbbed in his ears, and he marvelled that before he'd always thought he moved quietly.

Now he was overly conscious of the thwack and slap of his wings as they hit the static air around him. His thoughts concentrated only on that as he climbed higher and higher, trying to get away from the sad spectacle in front of him that had drawn his attention for so much of the day.

The higher he climbed, the smaller the Other became and he was struck by the insignificance of this one little creature when compared to the vast land stretched out in front of him. Why did he feel so compelled to watch him? What hold did this Other have over him? With annoyance, he dived back towards the ground. He needed some answers.

As the day progressed, the Other started to ascend onto his giant glacier that had appeared as no more than a sparkling jewel when he'd attempted to fly high and away earlier. Now it seemed immense in front of them both. He was unsure of the intentions of the figure he was shadowing. He knew from the circuit of his home that none of the Others lived here. Instead, it was the beginning of the huge wall that helped keep his kind hidden from the Others. The shield shimmered luminescent in the sky. At the glacier's furthest reaches, his home lurked.

The glacier was a cold and frozen expanse, inhospitable to him let alone to the small Other he followed. The day would soon draw to a close, and already the winds were picking up, buffeting his wings as he attempted to keep steady. He knew that he should leave, but he couldn't. This Other called to him with his needy mind, and he couldn't draw away from such desperate entreaties.

He didn't return home that night, instead staying with the Other. As night had fallen the wind had picked up and battered against his tough skin, chilling him momentarily as he came to land near to where the Other had collapsed in a tangle of limbs in the middle of the frozen glacier. He could sense the cold coming from his skin, just like the Other he'd rescued before, and so he sank low to the ground and covered him with his wings, creating a shield around him. He tucked his head under his wing, aware that the warmth of his breath would keep the temperature high enough for them both to survive the night.

He was unsure what he'd do the next day when the Other woke. Would he follow him again?

* * *

He woke the next morning abruptly, lifting his head quickly from under his wing, where it had sheltered all night. He wasn't covered in snow like last time he had slept outdoors although he could feel where the chill had sunk deeply into his tough hide. It would take time for the heat to work its way back into his body.

He glanced all around him, his keen sight searching the glacier for the creature whose thoughts were once more mingling with his own. He needed to learn to control this sensation of another infiltrating his mind without his consent.

Unable to see anything, he concentrated for a moment and then felt the animal presence coalesce. He jumped to his feet in distress. It was another wolf. It had to be. It felt just like the last time, the insatiable need to hunt and a desire for food intermingling. He could feel it searching for what it could smell, and that was the Other who lay asleep at his giant clawed feet.

He squinted across the iridescent glacier, the early morning sunlight causing a glare that temporarily restricted his eyesight. Finally, he focused on the wolf and saw that, shockingly, the wolf was not alone. An Other accompanied it.

Unsure what to do, Greeneyes checked the wolf's thoughts surprised to find it was more interested in him than in the Other. Its thoughts had changed from questing for his Other to questing for him, or rather for the unknown thing it could smell but not see. He could tell from the images the wolf was forcefully projecting into his mind. While it didn't show an image of him yet, it showed that the wolf was more than aware that the smell was something it hadn't encountered before.

Without further thought, he took to the sky with a snap of his wings and worked hard to gain height quickly. He didn't want his presence to be discovered by the wolf. It could apparently smell him. The other wolves had been totally unaware of him. This one was different.

Quickly, he flew above the heads of the wolf and the Other. Only when he was high above the glacier did he glance back to where his Other lay. What would they do with him if they discovered him? Suddenly he regretted his hasty actions that had made him temporarily forget about his purpose on the glacier.

He hung in the air until he deciphered what the wolf and its Other were doing with his own Other. The wolf had discovered it as soon as he'd taken to the air. Surprised, he watched as wolf dragged it off towards a sheltered cave. Happy it would be cared for by one of its own now, he turned to leave, berating himself for not thinking of moving his Other during the night.

He flew the short distance home, frantically aware that his behaviour was completely at odds with his role as Speaker. And yet he was unable to condemn himself for his actions. He'd saved the lives of two separate Others in recent days. Surely that was better than leaving them to a cold death.

He wondered how the small one fared. Perhaps he could find out by searching for its mind when he returned home. Almost instantaneously he received a stream of images from the baby. It was full and warm and gazed in wonder at the blonde haired woman who sat cradling him within her arms. He recognised her as the Other who'd taken the baby from him on his ledge.

He wondered if she had other small ones to see to as well, No sooner had he thought it than he saw multiple images of small Others as they grew to full size. He shook the images away in frustration. He needed to guard his thoughts to prevent his infiltration into the minds of Others. He needed his thoughts and not everyone else's. Still, he was relieved to find the tiny one well and healthy.

He hoped that being back in the safe refuge of his cave would calm him, but it had the opposite effect. The moment his feet touched the ground of his ledge, he found his thoughts returning to the Other. All day he attempted to distract himself by immersing himself in the deep warm pools of his cave and watching anew the images of his kind's past. Whenever there was a view of the Others, he found himself involuntarily thinking of the Other he felt drawn to. Eventually, he jumped from his pool in frustration, and once dry, took to the sky again, even though the night winds were slowly gaining in intensity.

The flight back to the glacier was unpleasant and arduous, draining the last of his strength. He needed to feed. However, when he felt the presence of the Other come into his mind, he relaxed for the first time all day, and he made his decision. He'd follow it, and he'd try to keep it safe, in the hope that the mystery of his attachment would, sooner or later, make itself known.

Aware that he was exhausted from the events of the last few days, he slept despite his exposure on the ledge and woke early the next morning to hunger pangs not dissimilar to those the wolves had sent to him. He visited the feeding grounds and having eaten his fill he returned to the glacier. He found his Other already up and awake and striding briskly across the shadowy glacier. Its thoughts didn't mingle with his own, and he was pleased to feel only himself within his mind.

The Other must have slept well because it seemed calm and sought shelter to sleep as the winds sprang afresh. Greeneyes spent the night, protecting him as best he could.

Only as the Other approached one of its kinds dwellings early the next morning, did any hint of renewed agitation reach him. He couldn't fathom out what thoughts the Other was thinking, and was further frustrated when it entered the squat steading and disappeared from his view, if not from his mind.

He was unsure what to do. He assumed that the Other would seek shelter within the building. It didn't seem to be its home, for surely it wouldn't have felt apprehension at returning to its home. Confused once again by the actions of the Other, he returned to his home pleased to fly before the winds sprang up. He would find it again the next day, provided it left the confines of the structure.

He found the Other quickly the next day leaving the building and striding purposefully back towards the sea. Where was he going now? The thoughts that reached him were confused and angry. What had happened within the building?

Greeneyes could make no sense of it, and his frustration warred with him all day long. Why was he following it? When it again sought shelter under a small overhang of rock, he resolved himself to another cold night under the stars.

It was with profound relief that he saw it reach another dwelling early the next day, and enter the heavily shuttered entrance way. Greeneyes flew home glad to have discharged his duties towards the Other. He had now spent close to four days watching him and had no idea why.

Perhaps tomorrow he wouldn't come at all. The Other seemed safe if agitated. Greeneyes thought that with some time apart from it, he'd be able to break the link between him.

The belief was futile. That night he even dreamed of the Other and as soon as he woke, hastily retraced his flights back to the dwelling. He arrived in time to watch him disappear back into the long shaped, ground-hugging building that his kind lived in, along with the wolf and the another Other who'd helped him on the glacier. That piqued his interest. Why were they here? He'd not thought they were friends when they'd met before although he was aware that his Other kept thinking of the girl with the long blonde hair.

When he saw the small group of men walking towards the steading, he realised he'd been right to return and to maintain the close connection. He doubted these men were here with good intentions. He could tell from their posture and their conversation, even if angry images from their minds as they surged up the steep hill, hadn't assaulted his mind.

The Others he watched had escaped out of the steading long before the men arrived. Greeneyes was interested in what the men planned to do and only realised belatedly when they kindled a small fire that they meant to burn the building down. Greeneyes was only too aware of the destructive capacity of fire following his burning of the wolf-infested steading. He felt unsure how to proceed. His Other had walked away, and he wasn't sure if that meant that he'd given up on his home. Should he, Greeneyes, try to protect it?

Closing his eyes, he focused his mind on the boy and was instantly assailed by emotions of remorse and sadness and a mind-numbing inevitability about the whole thing. Greeneyes felt tears prick his own eyes in collaboration with those that he could feel falling down the Others face.

He decided to act. He flew down and over the men's heads, before positioning himself at the far end of the squat building, and when the first man stepped forward with his brand lit and ready to go, Greeneyes gently blew. The brand immediately extinguished.

The man looked at it in confusion and returned to where the others were also lighting their brands. When the next man stepped forward with his brand lit, Greeneyes did the same.

Again and again, the men came forward and again and again, Greeneyes blew. The men all looked confused and shaken, and in a moment of decision, Greeneyes shifted position slightly and blew the men's small campfire out.

All the men now looked concerned, and Greeneyes could see suspicions forming in their minds that this was some divine act. The group of previously jovial men fell silent so that only their minds spoke.

The men were all looking at each other while Greeneyes felt his mouth pulling up into a smile. Without a word to each other, the men dropped their now extinguished brands and began backing away, slowly at first, before breaking into a run when they felt confident enough to turn their backs on the farm they'd come to burn down.

As they descended the hill in front of the steading, Greeneyes let out a huge laugh. He didn't think he'd ever enjoyed himself so much. He realised that the men would be back and that he couldn't protect the steading again. Only for now was it safe. Flapping his wings to gain some height, he spied his Other and the wolf nearly at the bottom of the opposite valley. He decided to wing past them so that he could see how the Other looked right now.

It was hard to gain much altitude in the motionless day and by the time he reached their position he wasn't as high as he would have hoped. He banked on his mighty golden left wing to hover above his Other. As he did he felt rather than heard a boom in the air. Looking at the Other in surprise, he was amazed to see him looking straight at him.

* * *

He landed with a soft thud on the snow-cleared ledge of his home. Night had fallen as he'd journeyed home and a lamp blazed on the entryway, for the benefit of the Others who served him and to ensure they didn't accidentally fall from the open ledge. They'd have tumbled for what would have felt like forever before coming to a sudden and abrupt stop at the base of the huge mountain.

He had much to think about, and he needed the solitude his new position gave him. He didn't understand the bond he felt with the Other. Since he'd met it on the glacier, saved his life and seen into its mind he'd been distracted and more than anything, burdened with questions he could get no answers to, for there was no one to ask.

There was now him and no other who held the key to his kind's past, present and future. The history of his people as it'd come down to him through the images was disjointed and brief, almost as if certain events were not to be recorded.

He wondered how his predecessors had coped with the lack of knowledge until he realised that they'd probably never had the freedoms he now had. Their predecessor would have trained former Speakers, and they'd probably not have thought to question the role they were to play. Greeneyes wondered why he had felt the desire and why he'd felt the need to interfere in the lives of the Others.

A shuffling noise distracted him, and he glanced to the left to see one of the Others shambling back into the darkness. He heaved a heavy sigh. Perhaps he should start paying more attention to those who lived in proximity to him. Thinking softly, he thought,

"Please come out. I'd like to talk with you."

He heard the sharp intake of breath from the Other and smiled grimly to himself. He'd never thought to 'speak' to the Others; there'd never been any need to in the past. He'd not been sure that it would work.

For now, he concentrated on the Other in front of him. It was the same one who'd pulled the Other from the water on the day of the rock fall and who'd taken responsibility for the tiny one he'd rescued. Greeneyes looked at it more closely.

He couldn't tell its age but thought it was a female, like the Other his own Other now accompanied. She was of a slim build, very much like the one with his Other, only her hair was a blonde colour, and her eyes were a striking aquamarine. Greeneyes idly wondered if eye colour meant as much amongst her kind as it did amongst his own. He'd already noticed that his Other shared his eye colour.

She stepped forward boldly and Greeneyes began by 'asking' something he'd never thought to 'ask' before.

"What's your name?"

He could 'see' that her thoughts were a massive swirl of indecision and conflict. Somehow amongst all her amazement that he'd 'spoken' to her she found her voice,

"Should I think my answers, or speak them?" Her voice was light and carried with it a slight accent that his Other did not have. Still, Greeneyes was amused. This woman had incredible fortitude given the circumstances. He felt somehow that he'd been right to 'speak' to her.

"You can do whatever you feel most comfortable doing," he thought back. She smiled briefly,

"Then I'll speak if that's acceptable. And my name is Emma. Is there a problem, Speaker?"

He thought back,

"No problems, just unanswered questions about your kind. Would you be willing to help me?"

Her thoughts again swirled in confusion and bewilderment. At the same time, a sense of calm emanated from her. A sense of rightness.

"I'll answer any and all of your questions. Please ask away." Greeneyes hadn't meant to look into her mind as she spoke to him, but the wave of images rolling from her was so intense that he couldn't help himself.

He saw images of ice grey seas, and a small child looking upwards. He also saw a man who turned and smiled. He saw a home and a blazing fire, and he saw crops growing and animals grazing, and he felt a deep satisfaction. The images amazed him and silenced him. Here was a woman who'd experienced much of life amongst her people. He wondered briefly why she'd been forced to live amongst his kind and when it had happened.

The presence had told him that the Others were the children of a select group who'd come to live in the cave when the shield had been erected. If what he was now being shown was correct, he'd been lied to about that.

As he cleared his head from the unbidden images, he realised that he didn't know where to start. The silence between them stretched yet the smile of serenity remained on Emma's face. Greeneyes wished he could feel so at peace. Suddenly he just thought at her the first thing that came to mind,

"My name is Greeneyes. Please don't call me Speaker."

She spoke back quickly, "Of course Greeneyes. I'm happy to call you by your name. I know that you're new to your position and that it happened in unusual circumstances. You might not realise that you don't have to ask permission to 'speak' to me and you don't even have to 'ask' me questions. You can use your skills to see anything in my mind. You may find it quicker. I know your ancestors made use of their skills."

He was bemused by her forthrightness. However after his time with his Other and his frustrations at having unbidden images within his mind he wanted to respect her kind's privacy a little more. If he'd just entered her mind it would've felt like an intrusion and he had a terrible feeling that his people had already intruded enough on her kind. Again he thought,

"How long have you been here? How much do you know about our people's past?"

He detected a calm acceptance in her mind. Instead of making sense of the cacophony of images his questions formed in her mind, he waited for her to answer. He felt it would be easier if she explained everything to him.

The answers she gave him perplexed and stunned him. She talked to him as the night sky turned and the sun began to rise. He was vaguely aware of the Others extinguishing the lamp and of their astonishment that he was talking to Emma. Overall, though, his attention was entirely focused on Emma and the wonderful and terrifying knowledge that she knew.

When she finally finished speaking, and he'd thanked her for her answers and honesty he was left with an intense feeling of awe. There was so much he didn't know. How could he be the Speaker when he knew so little?

His thoughts became a blur. He had so much to think about that bidding Emma good day he decided to sleep in his home before journeying back to find the boy, as he now knew his Other to be.

She'd not explained the link between them both, but neither had he asked or even alluded to his contact with the boy. She thought his questions were the result of his actions in rescuing the baby.

When he slept his dreams were cloudy and obscure, filled with the images Emma had now embedded in his mind and with the knowledge of what his kind had done to the Others. The actions of his predecessors were both understandable to him, and deplorable. They'd acted rashly and made no effort to understand the Others, merely branding them as dangerous and undesirable. Their actions were in contradiction to everything that he'd come to know. He wondered where the truth lay between his version of events from his people, and those of Emma's.

He was jolted awake from his disturbed sleep by an anguished cry. Initially, he thought it came from somewhere in the cave and feared that there had been another ground tremor while he slept. But the quiet of the cavern rang out with a deafening silence. As he came fully awake he realised the cry had come in his mind. It could only be from one of the two people he'd freely shared his mind with, and he could 'feel' that Emma slept soundly in her bed. He shouldn't have left.

He was angry with himself. He'd known that something was going to happen to the boy and should have realised that the men and their ineffectual weapons weren't enough to make a something.

He flew now, powered by his mighty wings with his anger as his only companion. When he looked at the boy's mind he could see disturbing images of panic and terror, ice and rock. How was he to find him? The avalanche caused by the ground tremor was likely huge. How was he to know how far he'd travelled since he'd left him?

The glacier was huge, and while he knew where they were headed from the boy's mind, he'd not thought to 'see' where they were. Now he needed to know, and he didn't have the time to hunt indiscriminately. The boy would only have so much air. His only consolation was that he could 'feel' that the boy was still alive. He knew the effort he was currently expending was worthwhile.

He wished he hadn't left him for the hundredth time. All that he'd learnt from Emma was worthwhile and needed. Still, he could have learnt it another day. Yesterday the need had been urgent. Only now did he realise that it hadn't been all that urgent, not when faced with the boy's burial under the avalanche.

What he'd learnt didn't have an immediate impact on his current actions.

He should have stayed to ensure the boy's safety, and maybe together they'd have discovered their peoples shared past. Now he needed to get to the boy to ensure his survival. The boy was vital to the future of both their kind's. If he hadn't known that he'd have felt less panicky and less frustrated by the slowness of his progress as he battled the night winds. He didn't want to lose hope. He had to ensure the boy's survival.

On the horizon, he could see where he'd left the boy and the girl. Not much further now and he'd be able to begin his search.

He'd tried to 'see' the girl with no success. While he didn't think that she was trapped under the avalanche, wherever she was, it was too dark, and there were no distinguishing features for him to recognise. In desperation, he'd even tried to 'see' the wolf that travelled with her. In that instance he'd been able to see some faint smudges and outlines of 'something's' but again, nothing had been clear enough for him to locate the wolf.

As he soared over the mountains illuminated by the midday sun he caught sight of a scene of utter devastation below him. The mountain had shed its entire load of snow from the east face and now stood starkly bold and grey amongst its white neighbours. Greeneyes was astounded. How could the boy have survived that? And how was he to find him?

There was a mountainside of snow, ice and rock littered at the bottom of the mountain. His relief at finally reaching the site of the accident evaporated. There was no chance that he'd find him. He didn't even know where to start.

Back winging, he landed with a soft thud some way from the devastated mountain base. He tried to reach the boy's mind. Nothing. He was clearly unconscious again. Panic gripped him. The air would be becoming stale. It would make it tough for him to regain consciousness. He was more likely to slowly slip away in his sleep than to wake up now.

Greeneyes began to pace backwards and forwards, his tail leaving a trail in the snow. Then, a cry rent the air. It sounded like the girl, and he could pinpoint where the noise was coming from. Taking to his wings, he flew a short distance to the base of the next mountain. There was debris from the avalanche piled up as far as the eye could see. It was a tangled mixture of snow, ice, rocks and mud.

However, his sensitive eyes also detected a slight lightening to the back of the confusion of snow and rock as if there was a space behind it. Unable to see anything in the girl's mind he could at least hear her shouting over and over again and it was coming from that spot. She wailed the name Erann. Was that the boy's name? He'd never thought to find out before.

Forgetting for the time being who he was amongst his people he began to dig with his vast front claws, throwing huge quantities of snow and ice aside. When he'd nearly excavated a path to the cave opening, he remembered that the girl wouldn't be able to see him. She might be terrified of a sudden opening forming in front of her.

He needed to do something so that the debris would be cleared away without her knowing he'd done it. Looking urgently around, his eyes alighted on a large boulder balanced precariously on the top of the cave. He wondered if he caused it to fall if the cave entrance would be cleared. That way the girl, and hopefully Erann, would be able to escape.

Flying up to the boulder he snapped his wings shut and leant against it. It was vast and massive but no match for his bulk and sheer determination. Greeneyes felt movement, and the boulder slowly shifted to land exactly where he'd hoped it would.

He felt a spark of recognition as the crash of the rock momentarily awakened Erann from his delirium. Greeneyes felt hopeful. He heard a distant scream and then nothing. Peering over the ledge, his front claws aiding his balance, he peered into the cave. There wasn't much light inside, and so he used his front claws to wipe more of the snow away to let the sunlight into the cave.

He heard an exclamation of surprise and kept to his place as he watched the girl stagger out from the cave and into afternoon sunset. He felt nothing further from Erann and realised, belatedly, that the avalanche must've separated them.

She emerged blinking into the sunlight, her wolf by her side. Greeneyes could see her frantically searching. She climbed unsteadily onto the pile of snow a few body lengths from the entrance to the cave and started to dig with her hands in a wild and uncontrolled way. She was followed by her wolf that also began to dig albeit with a little more skill. The girl was sobbing and repeating Erann's name over and over again.

Greeneyes watched her. If she was digging in that spot then he reasoned that she must think that Erann was buried there, and as the last person to see him before the avalanche, she was the only lead he had to go on.

He knew he'd be able to dig more efficiently than her but how to do it so that she was unaware? He needed her to stay because she'd need to care for Erann if they found him alive, yet he needed her to leave so that he could dig instead of letting her ineffectually scrap around with her hands and the wolf's paws.

Thinking, "Go away. Go away" over and over in his head at the same time as he saw the girl look up and away down the slope of the avalanche. Quickly, she shook her head and resumed digging. Had he imagined it? Again he thought, "Go away, go away" and she again glanced up apprehensively before returning to her task.

Could his thoughts influence her actions? And if so, he needed to do something that would make her move instead of just making her think about moving. Just then the wolf barked and caught his attention. That was it. Earlier he'd had more success seeing the wolf's mind.

He 'thought' at the wolf, "Go and dig near the cave. Bark and go and dig near the cave". He received a confused image from the wolf's mind before it did exactly what he'd told it to do. Greeneyes looked on in excitement as the girl leapt to where the wolf was now digging.

Quickly Greeneyes moved near to where Sereh had been digging, his wings snapping in place, and instead of digging himself blew a stream of boiling air downwards. It was much quicker than digging, and he was only too aware of how imperative it had become to find Erann, soon.

There was a loud crack, and the snow and ice evaporated in the intense heat. At the loud noise, he was aware that the girl lifted her eyes from her task and glanced apprehensively at the mountain above her. However, she didn't look towards him.

Greeneyes risked peeking downwards and was relieved to see that Erann lay, unmoving but breathing at the bottom of the cleared area. Moving away quickly he thought, "Come back" and watched first the wolf and then the girl return to the now snow-free area. She looked around in shock and then leapt down next to Erann and gently touched his face. Tears were streaming down her face as she carefully ran her hands over him. Then she looked about uncertainly.

Relieved that Erann was no longer trapped Greeneyes decided to wait some distance away even though there was no chance of her seeing him. Somehow he just felt it would be safer. He'd interfered enough for one day. With a crack of his wings, he took to the air.

From a vantage point he chose above the girl's cave he kept vigil. Only a few weeks before this freedom would've been denied him. No matter what he thought of his actions towards the Others, he couldn't deny that his role as Speaker was far more than he'd ever imagined possible.

Chapter 9 - Awakening

She was inordinately relieved to see Erann alive if unconscious. Whatever had brought about his exposure from his snowy entrapment (and she didn't want to think about that now) she wished it'd somehow managed to free him from the deep hole he now lay in.

She looked about frantically, and with some trepidation, but could think of no way to haul him out, and there was no one else on the entire glacier as far as the eye could see who'd be able to help her lift him out. The day was quiet, cold and deserted, with no hint of the chaos from yesterday.

The hole Erann lay in was at least twice her height and the steep side meant she had to jump down, jarring her aching legs and feet as she landed near his head. He was pale and sweaty while shivering in his sleep. He needed a fire to warm him.

She touched him hesitantly and spoke his name. His face was slicked in sweat, and he didn't respond when she called his name. His injuries looked to be many and painful. His beautiful face was covered in scratches. There was a huge gash under his right eye, already almost swollen shut on his beautiful jade eye and there was another deep cut on the side of his neck. She traced his swollen eye with her small finger and felt a current jolt through her body. He was unresponsive and still being near him thrilled her.

The last she'd seen of him, he'd been falling onto his front. The sheer force of the moving wall of snow must have turned him over and over, and he lay sprawled on top of his backpack. She wondered what other, less visible injuries had been done to his well-formed body.

Looking back up the hole towards sunlight, she could make out Arrow's head, looking at her quizzically. In the quietness of the day she was very aware of her own and Arrow's laboured breathing. Erann's was a little harder to hear.

Arrow's face was so intense and concerned that Sereh felt as though she could hear Arrow's thoughts and she found herself saying out loud,

"I know girl; I've no idea how we're going to get him out of here either."

Quickly she came to the conclusion that she'd have to carry him out. She couldn't hope to dig a further tunnel through the detritus of the avalanche. Erann was firmly in the middle of it. The miraculous revelation of him was just that, extraordinary.

Calling to Arrow to jump down she managed to get her to pull Erann into a sitting position. He groaned in his sleep. She slipped his backpack from his shoulders, or rather shoved it off aggressively as it was firmly wedged on his back, and motioned to Arrow that she was to carry it. Arrow obliged by dragging the backpack backwards out of the hole using her powerful back legs to brace herself.

Sereh then grabbed Erann and gritting her teeth managed to stand while holding him. But there was no way that she'd be able to carry him out. Not with the steep sides of the hole as they were. She gently laid him down again and turned to the side of the hole. Maybe if she constructed some snow steps she'd be able to haul him up with the help of Arrow.

She turned to the less steep of the sides, not that there was much in it, and started to fashion footholds for herself in a gradient up the side of the tunnel. Using her hands, she fashioned the steps marvelling that her hands did not become numb with cold while she worked. The snow felt slightly warm, which she thought odd, before disregarding the idea. She was starting to wonder if her time outside was playing with her perceptions of cold and hot.

It seemed to take a long time to reach the top and by then she was hot, sweaty and thoroughly disgruntled. Just doing that had taken all her effort and she still needed to get Erann out.

Arrow had returned during her exertions and had simply sat and watched her work from Erann's side. Sereh was grateful for the show of moral support and for the warmth that Arrow gave to Erann. She was also glad that her wolf had thought better of helping her. She'd have simply gotten cross and frustrated with her for being in the way. Her paws were good for digging, not for construction.

She needed to focus on getting Erann out and warm.

From below her, Arrow let out a small whimper, and Sereh jumped back to the bottom of the hole, jarring her legs and feet. With the help of Arrow, she pulled Erann into a sitting position and then bent him and managed to get him over her shoulder. She had decided that this was the best way to try and carry him. But he was a dead weight in her arms and within moments, her arms were trembling, and she felt hot and sweaty all over again. She took a staggering step towards her improvised steps, having to grasp the slippery sides of the tunnel to stay upright, and was assailed with a feeling of failure and disappointment. There was no way she could do this.

At that moment, Arrow let out a strange yelping sort of noise and Sereh felt rather than heard a boom. She glanced fearfully at the mountain behind her, or what she could see of it from so far down. She couldn't make out another avalanche on its face and feeling renewed determination got her foot on the first step she'd made. Erann didn't feel so heavy anymore, and she wondered if she was having a moment of incredible strength in response to the emergency she found herself in. She'd heard of it happening to other people before.

She trudged her way slowly up her steps, staggering and sweating but determined. Eventually, she lurched out onto the remains of the avalanche. The surface was lumpy, and she avoided pitfalls of twisted dead branches and stones and headed for her former cave where she'd been trapped by the avalanche. Arrow followed her and walked beside her with a wolfish smile on her face, her grey ears cocked at odd angles to her face.

In no time at all, Sereh had Erann in the cave. She lay him down carefully in the spot she'd slept in. Her fur was discarded there, and she further rooted around for her backpack. Arrow had abandoned Erann's by hers. It was crushed and out of shape. She pulled out the furs inside and covered him with them. Then she went back outside.

The avalanche had ripped up the sparse trees from the mountainside and dragged them with it. They were littered everywhere. She quickly gathered an armload of broken branches and returned to Erann's side. She pulled the heat stone from his backpack and used it to light a fire, before gathering some snow in a wooden bowl and leaving it to melt by the side of the fire. She was incredibly thirsty after her efforts.

Although the fire had only just caught Sereh felt warm and removed her furs and lay them over Erann as well. He still looked terrible and hadn't moved since she'd brought him to safety. He lay where she'd placed him; his arms by his side but his legs were at odd, disjointed angles.

She hoped that the warmth would stop his shivering and return his beautiful face to a healthier colour. Instead, he still shivered, uncontrollably and his face looked blue. The only improvement was that his breathing seemed less feeble than before.

She felt helpless. She had no herb law and knew she couldn't leave him to fend for himself while she went in search of a herb woman. The only one she knew was at Rankil's home, and she didn't relish going there. It was also a journey of at least two sunrises, and she'd then need to get back to him. She didn't think that he'd last another four sunrises without some form of help and ministration to his injuries.

Arrow made herself comfortable against Erann's left side, and Sereh thought that was probably a good idea. Using the now warm water to make a tea she slowly dribbled it between his lips before swallowing the rest herself. She refilled her pot outside and shivered herself as her sweat dried on her skin and the slight chill wind blew across the destroyed landscape.

Leaving the bowl by the fire, she went to Arrow's side so that she could lie by him as well. Arrow realised what she was doing and made room for her by getting up and going to lie over his feet instead. Erann whimpered in his sleep, and Sereh felt sure that he must have a broken foot or leg. She didn't look now, feeling it would be better if they all slept for a while. She felt exhausted. She'd eat when she woke.

* * *

He was aware that he was no longer trapped and that he was being moved. The arms that held him felt huge and small at the same time. He desperately tried to open his eyes to see who it was. They'd not cooperate. He sensed there might still be rocks on his eyes preventing them from opening. He used all his self-control and slowly he felt his eyes open, or at least one of them. It shut again immediately.

He used all his self-command and one eye opened. The other wouldn't open even a slit. He glanced at the person carrying him and recognised, gratefully, the face of Sereh. She couldn't be moving him alone. And so he looked around wildly with his one eye. He tried to look around him, to see who was helping her. He was greeted with a vision of the biggest green eyes he'd ever seen. His eye slammed shut in response, and his mind closed down again, unable to comprehend what he'd seen.

He drifted.

He saw the land stretched out in front of him for distances he couldn't grasp. He could see the peaks of the mountains shrouded in cloud and was amazed to realise that he looked down on them and not up. The vision was awe-inspiring.

In the blink of an eye he could see the Eastern Sea stretching out endlessly, and in another blink, he could see the peaks of Odadahraun. He could turn his head to look at Lang Jokull and turn it again to view the volcanoes of the south. He looked directly down, and he could see Vatna Jokull that he'd been walking around for many sunrises. It all appeared no bigger than his father's journal.

He knew that he should hold on tightly to the images he saw. Instead, his head swam, and he lost the pictures as once again, he drifted.

* * *

She was nervously running her hands through her hair when Erann gave a gasp and abruptly attempted to sit up. He managed about half way. He glanced wildly at Sereh as she sat by his side, where she'd again been trying to dribble water through his closed lips until only moments before and then he turned to peer out of their cave. She felt her heart leap with happiness that he was finally awake.

She thought he was about to speak. Instead, he continued to stare at something, and slowly a small smile lit his bruised and greening face. Sereh attempted to follow his gaze but could see nothing to smile about, just the scene of utter devastation that the avalanche had caused. He licked his lips.

When Erann spoke to her she jumped a little, so caught up in her thoughts of what might have been, and relief that it hadn't been.

"Sorry, Erann what did you say?"

"I take it that I have you and Arrow to thank for saving my life again?"

She expected his voice to be raw from his experiences. Instead, it sounded sharp and amused.

"Well, yes mostly you do."

Sereh expected him to question her words. He didn't, and the small smile remained in place. She wondered what was making him laugh unless it was just the sheer exuberance of finding himself alive when he thought he was dead.

"I don't suppose there's some water is there?"

Almost falling over herself in her haste to reach the pot with the melted snow, she passed it to Erann and couldn't help noticing that her hand shook. She wondered if she was suffering from shock and hoped that she wasn't. She needed to be strong for Erann and nurse him back to health. She wouldn't be able to look after herself and him if she went to pieces now.

He either didn't notice or chose not to comment on her wobbles. Whichever, she was grateful. He drank the water greedily and handed the now empty cup back to her with an apologetic grin,

"Don't suppose I could have some more, could I?" Again she rushed to do his bidding while Arrow looked on, almost in amusement. Sereh thought to herself that she needed to calm down. Her behaviour seemed inappropriate to the circumstances.

"I guess I owe you thanks as well." She called lightly from just outside the cave. She was busily refilling the pot with snow. She was pleased her voice sounded high because she felt a little bit giddy.

"If it weren't for you pushing me out of the way then I'd have been buried as well." She turned back to him at that moment and saw that his cheerful smile had been replaced with a small tight grin. She wasn't sure what it meant. He replied in a soft voice,

"I'm just glad I got you out of the way. As the snow fell over me, it was good to know that you, at least, were safe."

Whatever the look before had meant, there was no denying the catch in his voice. Sereh looked at him in surprise, and he met her gaze unflinchingly.

She turned to check on the snow she'd placed near the fire, heat infusing her cheeks and not from the fire, and handed the melted and slightly tepid water to him,

"It must be getting hot in here. That took no time at all."

Again, a happy grin lit his face as he reached to take the cup from her. He let out a sudden cry of pain and Sereh had to grab back the pot to prevent it toppling over. Erann collapsed back onto the furs, and Sereh rushed to him in concern. His face was sheeted in an icy sweat, and she gasped as she touched his forehead because it felt burning hot? What was the matter with him?

His eyes had closed in pain, or rather his open eye had. The bruising on his face had made it almost impossible for both eyes to open. His breathing was ragged. She felt a stir of panic within her stomach where a moment before there'd been only excitement. She knew that people could be hurt inside and that everything could seem fine on the outside. What if Erann had injuries that couldn't be fixed? They were alone in the middle of Vatna Jokull. There was no one she could ask for help. She stared at him in concern, running both her hands over his face and the top part of his body as she didn't know what else to do with herself; somehow she hoped this small act would give reassurance.

When it didn't, she looked about frantically, at Arrow, at the back of the cave, out onto the devastation caused by the avalanche. Then she felt her hand being gently but firmly gripped. Her head shot back round to glance at Erann and although his eyes were closed and sweat beaded his face, he'd enclosed both of her hands within his, and the small, tight grin was back on his face.

He opened his lips to speak, and his voice sounded loud,

"Sereh, please stop panicking. I'm okay. Well, that's not true. I'm not, but I will be. I think I've damaged my legs. The pain is, quite frankly, excruciating. Will you check for me?"

His eyes remained shut, but Sereh felt the grip on one of her hands slowly release. The other was equally slowly released, and the second her hands were free she yearned for the strength that his hold had given her. Something so small as his hands on hers had calmed her racing heart and made her think instead of panic. His touch had however left hot patches of heat on her hands. Shaking her head in annoyance, she berated herself. She needed to be gentle and focused while she checked his legs, not thinking about holding hands.

She gently lifted the furs surrounding his feet and heard him gasp quietly in pain. She glanced at him in horror and fear, and he opened his eyes to smile encouragement at her. The smile made her smile slightly as she returned to the task at hand. When she'd brought him into the cave she'd not been overly careful in her placement of him, more concerned to have him warm and covered up than anything else. She hoped desperately that she hadn't made any injury worse.

She pulled all the furs free from where they'd become entangled around his legs and immediately discovered the problem. One leg had a piece of bone sticking through the skin. She sharply inhaled as she went on to examine the other leg. It appeared fine but when she rolled up the fur leg covering she was greeted with a patchwork of purples and blacks. It was extremely badly bruised.

She knew that Erann's eyes were again closed as he fought against the pain her slight activities were causing. His breathing was uneven. She was grateful that he couldn't see her face.

While his injuries were not life-threatening, they'd take time to heal and out here it was difficult to know what to do for the best. They'd quickly run out of food, and Sereh was worried that there'd soon be another avalanche. There'd been further booms and snaps the entire time she'd been awake, watching Erann.

She covered his bruised leg and sat back to think about what to do with the broken one. Erann let out an exasperated sigh,

"Well, are you going to tell me or just sit there?"

His voice sounded strained but amused, and she looked up to see his intense jade eyes gazing at her. She felt herself flush from the intensity of his gaze and quickly looked down. She mumbled her reply,

"Your left is broken below the knee and your right is very badly bruised."

"Well, that explains the pain then," was his short and matter of fact reply. Sereh quickly went from fear at his injuries to bemusement. He didn't sound anywhere near as traumatised as she'd thought he would.

"I'll look around for something to use as a splint and get your leg tied up. It doesn't seem to be bleeding, not anymore at any rate."

As she went to get up, she felt a pressure on her arm and turned to see Erann's eyes on her again and his hand on her arm,

"Thanks, Sereh" he whispered, "really, thank you."

The intensity in his voice brought a flush to her cheeks, unbidden, and she got up a bit quicker than she intended and then stumbled over the furs she'd pulled to one side when she uncovered his legs.

She didn't trust her voice to answer, and as she walked away from him, she glanced back and noticed that his eyes had shut again. The pain he was in must be unbearable and yet, somehow, he still had the ability to make her feel like this. She shook her head in wonder.

* * *

The pain was intense and unrelenting. Closing his eyes seemed to help. But then, they kept opening of their regard, to look at Sereh. She'd just walked from the cave in search of a splint for his leg, and he had watched her walk away with hunger he'd never felt before. It seemed to override the pain he felt. Maybe he should keep his eyes open after all.

They shut of their own accord as soon as Sereh was out of sight and he gratefully sank into semi-consciousness. In this state, he could feel in his eyes the other presence that he'd seen as a flash when he first regained consciousness. He couldn't honestly believe what he'd seen, and yet somehow it all made perfect sense and had an unassailable logic.

He'd always known that his people were not alone on this land, and now he had the proof. Although it appeared that only he could see the, whatever it was. In his pain wrecked mind, he knew that what he'd seen was important beyond measure.

He felt the strange presence penetrate his mind. It wasn't uncomfortable, merely odd. He didn't know how, or why, but welcomed the release from the pain that it gave him.

The presence should have felt wrong and alien, not comforting. He welcomed it despite its peculiarity. It was not overwhelming or painful. It was just... right.

It was only when he felt Sereh's gentle hands on his leg that he appreciated how much pain he'd been in, and how much the presence in his mind was diluting the pain. It had been a beautiful agony when Sereh had first examined his leg. Her touch, so soft. The pain, so intense. Now he could just feel her hands on him and no pain at all. He hoped that his friend wasn't feeling his pain instead of him. He felt a gentle pressure in his mind and knew in that instant that his friend wasn't in pain at all.

Belatedly he became aware that Sereh's hands had stopped touching his leg and he opened his eyes, slowly, to see her gazing at him in fear, her light eyebrows twisted in concern. He cracked a small smile, his mouth currently too dry to say anything. She needed reassurance.

She smiled in return before turning back to the fire and lifting the pot of water. He raised himself gingerly on his elbows and gratefully drank the slightly warmed water she passed to him. He sank back on his makeshift bed and spoke the words, "Thanks." The noise that left his mouth surprised him. He croaked and sounded about a hundred rotations old. She smiled at the sound, and he felt transfixed by that smile. He was in intense pain and yet he wasn't.

He'd discovered in his darkest moment of aloneness that he wasn't alone, and neither were his people. An astounding discovery. On top of which he felt things for Sereh that he'd never felt before. Was this what it was like to fall in love? And if it was, why did it have to be now?

Vaguely, he understood from the images conveyed into his mind by his new friend that he was leaving for a short time. He sent what he hoped was an acknowledgement and the hope that he'd see him soon. Stupidly, he didn't anticipate the onslaught of pain that gripped him as soon as his friend was gone.

He screamed in pain and Sereh rushed to him, her hands fluttering, entirely unsure of what had caused this new onslaught of pain. He couldn't explain; she'd think him crazed. Neither could he come up with a plausible reason – the pain was too great for him even to speak. He blacked out. His last thought was a hope that his friend would return and that Sereh wouldn't panic, too much.

He now understood the sensation of his flying dreams as his friend soared through the air with an aerial view of his homeland. As he hung in the darkening sky, he felt no pain.

He noticed things as he glided; the still pristine landscape, the tiny dots of people. Nowhere did he see land that was green or brown. Nowhere did he see the rushing purple of a river. It was as if the land still slept under a white blanket. He knew it was wrong, while at the same time revelling in the sheer majesty of it all.

The purple shield he'd seen some days before was no barrier to his friend. It seemed to envelop his friend quickly and then release him slowly, almost unwillingly, leaving a trail of green sparks behind him.

It seemed as though little time passed before he felt the gliding sensation slow and stop altogether. His friend landed with a soft thud on a snow-covered ledge, and someone Erann didn't know stepped out from the mountain that sheltered the ledge. He was astonished to see someone who looked just like him conversing with the dragon.

Erann realised he could somehow hear what his friend thought, but the woman's words were muffled so that Erann could only make out the rise and fall of the tone of her voice but not the actual words. Instead, he concentrated on looking at her. She was tall and beautiful but impossible to age. Her eyes flashed kindly as she spoke to Greeneyes. She disappeared and then returned, and there were some complicated discussions that Erann didn't understand.

Back in the cave, Erann drifted into a more natural sleep.

* * *

She'd panicked, completely, when Erann screamed in agony before passing out. Flapping her hands in panic, she felt useless as the sweat cloaked his face.

She didn't understand what had caused him to cry out suddenly. She'd done nothing, and Erann hadn't even moved. The only thing that had happened was that Arrow had let out a slight growl as a deep boom had reverberated around their small shelter. That was it, nothing more.

Only when Erann had reverted to a regular breathing pattern as he slept had she been able to relax. Then the exhaustion of the day had overtaken her. She'd wrapped herself in furs, careful not to touch Erann and had slept the instant she lay down, Arrow acting as a buffer between them.

* * *

He'd hoped that finding Erann alive would've been enough. But his extensive injuries and isolated condition and the astounding knowledge that Erann, one of the Others, not beholden to his kind, was able to see him, was so momentous that he knew he had no choice other than to continue to help him.

He also realised that he couldn't help him directly. He'd have to bring one of his Others here – someone skilled in herb lore and with the ability to lie convincingly. While Erann might see him, the girl couldn't, like most of her kind. He needed to keep it that way while he worked out what this all meant. He needed to seek out Emma.

He sought out Erann's mind with his own and felt a jolt of recognition. He projected images of someone coming to help Erann and hoped that he understood his intent. With a sharp snap of his wings, he took to the air. Erann's injuries weren't life threatening at the moment, and he felt comfortable leaving him for a short amount of time. It was the extreme cold and lack of food that worried Greeneyes.

He turned his attention to the task ahead. He needed to get one of his Others here, and he was unsure how to accomplish any of it. How could he get them here? How could he convince them to leave their haven? What did they need to bring? What could they say to Erann and the girl to explain their presence? As he flew, he didn't, for once, see the varying shades of white that sparkled beneath him, focused only on the task ahead.

He arrived home as the dark violet of night was spreading across his land. How many days had passed since the sun had first appeared over the horizon? He was unsure but felt sure as he slowed his momentum that it had been well over a week now. Briefly, he did now wonder why the ground beneath him was covered in snow. The thaw should have begun in earnest, and the land should have been a myriad of growing greens, muddy browns and rushing streams. Or so his visions had told him. So why wasn't it?

Landing with a soft thud on the broad ledge of his home, he thought of the Other he wanted to speak to. Emma appeared and looked at him quizzically.

Her tone sounded oddly formal after their conversation of only last night. He wondered if she regretted her candour, while hoping she didn't.

He needed her help. He was tempted to 'see' her thoughts but decided against it. If he could respect Erann's thoughts, he'd also respect hers.

"I rescued the boy, but he's gravely wounded, and I can't move him further. The girl is looking after him. Her care, though, is not total, I fear.... I worry.... I'm afraid for him." The images rushed out of his mind almost incoherently in his desperation to convey his great need. He saw her eyes lighten as his worry won through into his silent voice,

"I've come to ask if one of you will go with me, with food, supplies and medicine to help nurse Erann back to health."

Emma smiled with real warmth to her face. Greeneyes was pleased that his request had been received so well. Her next words shocked him, for all they were said in a friendly enough tone.

"It's impossible, I'm afraid. We can't leave here. Weren't you aware of this? It was decreed."

Greeneyes was dumbfounded. He'd not realised. He'd never given it any thought. If the Others couldn't leave, they were indeed bound to his kind against their will. The thought unnerved him. Had he already begun to see the Others as more than just the convenience they certainly were?

He realised just how differently he viewed those traditionally thought of as his enemies. The thoughts no longer scared him but only because he knew he was acting in a way that had been foreseen, as Emma had taught him last night.

Wrongly, he'd assumed that Emma would help Erann. But if she couldn't leave the cave, she'd been unable to. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't risk Erann's life.

He turned his gaze to look at Emma and noticed she'd gone. He didn't seek her mind. He just stood there, unmoving, while he frantically thought.

He wondered if there was some way to bring Erann here. Forget about the girl – it was Erann that was important. Perhaps he could somehow carry Erann in a large basket? Anything to just get away from the desolate place he was now in. He was so lost in thought he didn't realise that Emma had returned. She stood quietly, not wanting to disturb him, waiting for him to realise she was there.

Eventually, she coughed and shuffled her feet over the icy surface. With a start, he looked at her, briefly wondering if he'd imagined her leaving. She appeared to be in the same position as earlier. Then he looked closer and realised she was wrapped in a midnight black fur, and a basket was at her feet full of food. There was also another pack full to the brim of supplies that she and her kind needed. He looked at her quizzically, and she returned his look with a small smile, not daring as such, more defiant than anything else. She spoke,

"I've never done this before, and I'm sure that you haven't either. I assume that if you let me sit on your back, between some of your ridges, or on your neck if you prefer I should be comfortable while you fly."

In his mind, he thought back, somehow coherently,

"How, how can you come with me? You said it was impossible."

Her tight smile appeared again,

"It was until you asked. Now we'll just have to wait and see."

He looked at her, his hope rising. He didn't fully understand her words and was just pleased that his way of helping Erann was going to work after all.

Or at least it looked like it would until they both realised that there were things that neither of them had considered. How should Emma get on his back or neck? Once she was there, how was she to hold on? How was she to hold on, and hold her basket with the precious supplies in?

In the end, it was a scramble. Emma managed to perch on his neck, with the basket in front of her and the pack on her back. It felt uncomfortable for both of them, and Greeneyes worried that he'd not be able to manage with the extra weight. Only the desire to help Erann made him persevere. He was unsure of Emma's motives. She seemed serene in her resolve, whereas moments before it had all been impossible.

By the time everything was in place half the night had passed. The stars were sparkling crystalline above their heads, and the shadowy planet was chasing towards dawn.

They were in such proximity to each other it was hard to avoid Emma's thoughts and try as he might stray images entered his mind. A recurrent thought was about a man he didn't recognise. A man with dark blonde hair and old deep jade eyes, who smiled at her in a tired way.

He shook the image away from his mind as he sprang from the ledge with a sharp crack of his wings. He needed to concentrate on what he was doing. He'd never had a passenger before.

Vaguely, he was aware of a long, seemingly endless noise that only ceased as he gained his flying height. As he levelled out, he realised what the noise was. It was Emma screaming in fright, or joy. Her thoughts were too incoherent for him to decide.

* * *

When she woke, she knew a long time had lapsed. Her entire body felt heavy and uncooperative. She forced herself to sit up, as every ache and pain let itself be known. Besides her, Erann slept, his breathing slightly fast, his face no longer flushed or deathly pale. Between them, Arrow was gone.

When she glanced outside the cave opening, the sky was ablaze, the sun well over the horizon. She must have slept far longer than normal. She was amazed. She'd not slept so long for rotations.

Her stomach growled angrily as a tantalising smell entered her nostrils. Coming more fully awake she was aware of a desperate need to empty her bladder and of a soft humming noise. She turned around abruptly in shock.

The fire was blazing with pieces of wood and attending a simmering pot of something that smelled delicious was one of the most beautiful women Sereh had ever seen. She had a perfect face, nose just right, mouth small and mobile, dazzling blue eyes and long blonde hair which must reach past her waist when down. It was tied to the top of her head in an intricate pattern of plaits and twirls, and it raised her height by a good few inches.

She shut her eyes and then opened them more slowly. She was sure she must have been dreaming. The woman smiled at her quizzically and then opened her mouth to speak. The words that tumbled out were spoken in a beautiful, lilting tone that Sereh had never heard before,

"You've been asleep a long time. Come, have something to eat. You'll feel better afterwards."

Sereh blinked in shock, questions burning to pour out of her mouth such as, "Who are you?", "How did you get here?", "How did you find us?", "What's your name?".

For some reason, she didn't voice her questions. Instead, she slid out gently from Erann's side and staggered to her feet very unsteadily. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest, and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself crying out in pain. She didn't want to wake Erann from his healing sleep.

Her legs felt wobbly and uncooperative, and she looked at the woman to gauge her reaction. The woman was looking away with a troubled expression on her face. Sereh was glad. She didn't want this stranger to see her so ungainly.

Eventually, she sorted herself out and ventured outside the cave to empty her bladder. It was bitterly cold, and Sereh resented the necessity but seeing as it was a necessity she saw to it as quickly as she could, quickly refastening herself into her multiple layers of clothing.

As she turned to go back into the cave, she could see the woman clearly illuminated by the fire. The woman had returned to her cooking tasks and was paying no attention to Sereh. She was pleased; it gave her time to study her.

Although they'd only spoken a few words, and in fact Sereh hadn't spoken at all, there was something familiar about the woman. Sereh racked her memories as she watched the woman stir whatever it was she was cooking. The woman looked young and graceful, though Sereh could detect faint wisps of grey in her hair.

She was humming quietly to herself, a song that Sereh recognised without being able to remember its name. Her body was lean and well muscled; her clothes well made and while not new were still in excellent condition. Whoever the woman was (and here Sereh realised that she didn't even know her name) she was well cared for and so presumably wealthy. Sereh couldn't help wondering how she'd found them and why she was helping them, not to mention what she was doing in the wilds of Vatna Jokull.

Sereh was riven by indecision. What if Rankil had somehow spread the word about her disappearance? What if this woman had come looking for her? Should she reveal her true name or should she lie? With Erann still sleeping she couldn't ask him for advice and worried that if she lied, and he woke, he'd then contradict her story, and the woman would leave, and they desperately needed her help, Sereh could admit that.

Again her stomach growled loudly and this made the woman look up.

"Come, have something to eat," her tone and gestures invited Sereh to her side. She'd have liked to refuse until she'd made her mind up about a few things. However, the kindness in the woman's voice had her feet walking before Sereh fully understood what she was doing. By the time her mind had caught up with her feet, it was too late to do anything other than keep walking. She found herself stood by the roaring fire almost before she realised where she was.

The woman motioned for her to sit down and as Sereh sat she was handed a warm bowl of stew with huge chunks of meat floating in it. She gasped and looked around frantically for Arrow. With profound relief, she caught site of Arrow happily gnawing on a huge meaty bone at Erann's feet.

The woman had followed her frantic searching in confusion, and now her loud peal of laughter made Sereh jump. She held onto her bowl and looked a trifle guiltily at the woman who was laughing. The woman spoke,

"My name is Emma, and I wouldn't cook your wolf. However, your wolf did catch our meal for us and kindly brought it home. I can't say for sure what it is. She found it at the back of the cave, somewhere. It was quite big and quite meaty. It was also very dead and very frozen. I don't think she killed it, just found it and realised it would taste a bit nicer if it were thawed out a bit."

Sereh let out a guilty sigh. She'd have to be careful to mask her thoughts, at least until she knew who this woman was and what her intentions were.

Scooping up a chunk of meat with her fingers she stuffed it in her mouth. It was hot, and she could feel it burning her mouth. She was too hungry to care but not too hungry to refuse the bow; of water Emma quickly passed to her. She took a quick swallow and then tried moving the hot meat around inside her mouth while trying not to burn her tongue. She didn't succeed and hastily drank more water before managing to chew her food and swallow it. It burnt a little on the way down. The taste was fabulous and compensated for the uncomfortable experience. A smile again lit up Emma's face, and she softly smiled as she said,

"There's plenty more. There's no need to rush so."

Sereh returned the smile, in the process of taking another huge piece of meat. She was ravenous and had decided the burn in her mouth was well compensated for by the taste of the food. Emma looked at her a little aghast and turned her attention to Erann.

"Your friend is sleeping I see. His leg is badly injured. I've had a look and re-bandaged it. I hope that's okay?"

Sereh looked at Erann with a guilty start; her meal was forgotten for now. Emma continued to talk,

"You did well. I've examined his body and can see no sign of internal injury other than bruising. He was lucky to survive."

Sereh found herself struggling for words. What was wrong with her? This woman had come from Gods knew where and had examined Erann while she slept soundly by his side. She didn't know who she was, or where she was from and yet she couldn't form a single coherent question to get her to explain anything.

The woman, Emma, seemed totally at home and completely unfazed. Surely it should be the other way round.

With all these questions roaring in her head, Sereh found it difficult to think clearly. Only when she heard a soft moan from Erann did she snap back to reality and Erann's needs. She rushed to him and reached out to hold his hand as he slowly woke up.

He was obviously in a lot of pain, yet he still managed to squeeze her hand gently in reassurance, and she was overwhelmingly grateful to him for that. The arrival of the woman had left her feeling confused and out of her depth. His first words robbed her of speech altogether.

"Hello there Emma. How's the leg doing?"

How did he know Emma? Had he woken when she first arrived? Her eyes were wide with shock. She glanced between Emma and Erann unsure how to proceed.

Erann again squeezed her hand and then attempted to sit upright. He failed and quickly slumped back down, his face ashen.

"I'm sure I told you to stay lying down," Emma commented and bent to pick something up before passing it to him.

"I think you might need this. Come Sereh, give the man a moment's peace."

Realising what she'd given Erann, Sereh quickly withdrew her hand from his in embarrassment and walked backed towards the fire. Erann didn't attempt to detain her, and she was pleased. She felt completely disorientated. What had happened while she slept?

* * *

He'd woken in the first light of morning when the pain had substantially lessened on his friend's return. The arrival of Emma, the woman from his dreams, had caught him by surprise. It had left him feeling a little odd-footed. Not jealous exactly, although possibly not far off. He'd assumed, wrongly as it turned out, that he was the only one of his kind who Greeneyes knew.

Emma had come over to introduce herself. Her soft speech was comforting. She'd examined his leg, allowed him the means to relieve himself, and then slipped him a warm, mildly spiced drink that had left him feeling extraordinarily tired and pain-free. She'd given him the injunction to stay lying down, no matter what, and to sleep.

Whatever pain relief she'd given him had worn off, as he now woke again. He tried to keep his shout of pain from escaping but failed miserably. Not that he minded when Sereh rushed to him and took his hand. She looked confused as well as concerned, and he briefly wondered why – until Emma shifted into his line of sight. Ah, yes. This wouldn't be easy to explain.

His friend had given him no indication of how he was to account for Emma's presence. Instinctively he knew that Sereh wasn't to know about his rescuer. He squeezed her hand in apology. He decided just to be normal and acknowledge Emma's presence with a "Good morning, how's the leg doing". The look on Sereh's face crushed him, and he squeezed her hand again in mute apology. He attempted to sit upright. The movement hurt, and he slumped back down only to be admonished by Emma and passed a bottle to relieve himself in again.

Sereh turned away from him and loss engulfed him. The rejection, coupled with the pain and discomfort he was in depressed him beyond measure. His healing would be long and painful and his secrets, that he instinctively knew he must keep from Sereh, could very well rob him of her loving care, which he so desperately craved. Their relationship was so unsteady and new, and while they'd turned to each other in need, he wasn't sure if that was all he was to her. He was beginning to think more of her. How did she feel about him?

As he lay there, gazing at the dark grey ceiling, he felt hot, silent tears streak down his face and drip slowly down his neck. Luckily Emma was keeping Sereh busy by the fire and so neither of them saw his dismay.

Into his mind, unbidden, came a friendly prod. No, not a prod, more like a slowly calming presence. Ah, his friend. Not only was he now combating his pain, but he was also comforting him. Erann was grateful for the presence while resenting that he couldn't communicate in the same way, and then suddenly he was.

Like his dreams of last night and when trapped in the avalanche, he was seeing things that he couldn't possibly see, most notably because he was looking at a scene in which he lay, weighed down under furs; in which Emma, Sereh and Arrow were loosely scattered around the fire burning brightly in the centre of the cave.

His immediate line of sight was severely restricted by budding stalactites and discarded stones, and so this was his first glimpse of his temporary home.

He smiled.

He briefly wondered what else he'd be able to communicate with his friend and was instantly assaulted with a stream of images; of a cave filled with shifting translucent reflections; of Emma talking to his friend. The image blanked leaving him alone for a moment. He blinked in confusion before his friend returned apologetically. For that brief moment alone the pain had been intense. Not just his legs but also his head, his chest, his back – it had felt like he was being squeezed together.

Emma appeared at his side and offered him another cup of the warm, spicy tea. He took it and sipped it slowly. The spice was less overpowering, and he looked at her questioningly,

"I thought you might like to be awake for a bit. I'll keep Sereh busy. You need to talk to Greeneyes." Her tone was acerbic, brokering no argument, but she'd told him something he needed to know; the name of his friend.

She turned to go when he'd finished his drink, and he reached out and grabbed her arm,

"Please, please be gentle with Sereh. I don't understand what's going on and she has even less of a clue. Please. Please be kind to her. She... she's important to me." His voice trailed away as he finished his muddled sentence, slightly worried about what she'd think of his confused ramblings. She took his hand and held it gently between her two hands.

"I understand more than you can ever know. I'll make sure Sereh is as little bewildered as possible. You have my word."

She scooped the wooden cup up and walked back towards Sereh. Erann felt better for admitting his feelings, a little, to someone other than himself. They felt right, and he felt comfortable with what he'd said.

As she walked away, he realised that he'd not asked her how he should 'talk' to Greeneyes. He didn't want to call her back and draw attention to himself. He didn't want Sereh to look at him with her pained expression until he'd worked out a few more things himself. There was nothing for it. He could not form coherent images of his thoughts for his friend to see and so feeling like a total fool he spoke quietly to himself,

"Who are you?" He felt instant recognition from his friend and an answer appeared in his mind of the dragon.

"I mean, how are you? Um, where are you from? How did you find me? How can you be here?"

He felt a wave of amusement from his friend and a thought came back to him,

"Just one question at a time please".

Erann grinned in response and asked an entirely different question,

"How are you stopping the pain?"

Again thoughts flowed back to him, almost as speech,

"The pain hasn't stopped. It's just you can't feel it. I've dampened it. Mostly. I don't want to dampen it completely. I want you to know that the pain is there otherwise you'll forget and do something that breaks the healing which has already begun. Emma has warned me."

The mention of Emma distracted him from the other questions he was contemplating asking,

"Where did she come from? How did she get here?"

Amusement visualised in his mind, followed by an answer,

"She's from my home, and she came here on my back. I think you saw it as you slept. It was a very curious experience for both of us; I can assure you. She will help you heal, and she has food to keep you and Sereh fed."

Again, a distraction in Erann's head following Greeneyes words. Where was their home? He couldn't keep his focus.

"Sereh, she can't see you?"

"No, none of your kind can."

"Well, I can."

"Yes, it's most unusual."

"So can Emma."

"She's an individual case."

"What does that mean? And why can I see you?"

"I'm unsure. All I know is, I'm drawn to you. I have been since we first met at the steading." Erann was about to ask another question but Greeneyes words belatedly registered in his mind and once more sent his thoughts skittering.

"What steading?"

"The one with the hungry wolves. They were the same but different to your friend here. I burnt it. I made sure you didn't burn."

That made Erann speechless. For quite a long time his mind spun with the possibilities and he eventually stuttered,

"You.... burnt the steading?"

"The wolves were eating the dead of your kind. They would have eaten you. It seemed.... wrong."

Erann was unsure how to react to the sound logic presented to him.

"I followed you the next day. You fell asleep outside. It was snowing and cold. That seemed... wrong as well. I kept you warm all night. I shielded you with my wings. Then the wolf came, and I left."

Again, Erann was silent. Greeneyes continued,

"I kept an eye on you. You seemed upset and confused. The third steading you went to, it was important to you? The one where the girl met you. I scared the men away, what they wanted to do seemed... wrong. You saw me on the mountainside; you looked away. I flew away in confusion. I've followed you ever since, apart from when the avalanche came. I'm sorry about that. I should have protected you. It was... wrong of me to leave you when I did."

Erann couldn't believe what he was hearing or seeing, or thinking, or whatever it was. A huge number of previously unexplained events feel into place all at once, yet, there were still so many questions. He didn't know where to start and then the voice in his head again, soft and insistent.

"Erann, you must rest. You must heal. Please sleep. There's time for questions and answers later when you're well and away from this dangerous place."

Unbidden his eyes began to close. He idly wondered if he'd dream again.

* * *

Gods it felt good to feel the wind on her face, to smell the snow, to see the sun, to be outside. She'd not realised how much she'd missed it all until now. All those rotations she'd been encased in the protective shield away from her people and protected from the elements.

She'd not aged, admittedly, but she'd barely lived either. Here and now felt so vital and so alive. She loved it; she just wished he were here to experience it with her. She knew it wouldn't be long now – everything was happening as it had been promised. She felt as giddy as a girl with excitement. Her people would be free and so would she. She'd age, and she'd die. At least she'd live again first.

She was throwing herbs into a pot suspended over the open fire while Sereh looked on with a troubled expression. Emma hoped very much to ignore it. She was unsure how to proceed. How should she explain her arrival without compromising Greeneyes? She and Greeneyes hadn't discussed it.

They should have.

She found herself floundering for words in the presence of this beautiful, deeply troubled young woman. Whatever she said would be inadequate.

There was no sound except for the crackle of the fire and mumbling from Erann. Sereh kept glancing towards him anxiously. There was obviously a mutually strong attraction there, although she doubted that either knew how deeply it ran. In the end, it was Sereh who broke the silence,

"What you putting in that?" she said, nodding towards the pot. It was a simple question. Its simplicity temporarily threw Emma. Her mind went blank. She grabbed the next item for the pot, a cut of some other animal that Arrow had kindly provided her with and managed to stumble,

"I'm not sure. Something else your wolf caught."

In the corner, Erann had become quiet. Emma hoped it meant he was asleep. The sleep and her herbs would heal him, quickly. She was no mage. She did, however, understand some of the effects that Greeneyes and his people had on the world around them.

This particular herb, grown in the collective farm by her people, grew in profusion within Greeneyes home and had remarkable healing properties not found in the variety her people grew. She just hoped that it worked outside the shield.

She was unsure what to say to Sereh about her presence and on an impulse decided to offer an explanation before being asked.

"I imagine you're wondering how I found you."

Sereh didn't bother to answer. Emma supposed it was evident that she would, and so let it pass without further comment.

"I... I heard the avalanche. I was walking. I came to see what had happened and I... I smelt smoke from your fire."

Emma winced. She was a terrible liar, always had been. She blundered on, aware of the look of disbelief on Sereh's face.

"When I found you, you were both asleep. Erann looked beaten up, though, so I thought I ought to stay. See if I could help."

She finished in a garbled rush, hoping that Sereh would just accept whatever she said. Defiance flashed briefly on Sereh's face before she answered,

"Well, I'm glad you did. It seems like you have many more supplies than we do."

Emma let out her breath, unaware she'd even been holding it. Sereh was going to play along. Thank the Gods. It would make everything so much simpler.

There were more tantalising smells coming from the cook pot and Sereh's stomach let out another hungry rumble. Emma smiled in sympathy. Sereh had abandoned her bowl when Erann had woken and she'd not touched it since.

"When did you last eat?"

"Not sure to be honest. When was the avalanche? It was before that."

"It was the day before yesterday, so I'm not surprised you're hungry. Here pass me back your bowl, and I'll refill it with something warm instead of that cold stew you have there."

Sereh tore hungrily into her refilled bowl, and once she'd emptied it, she got up and went and checked on Erann. She didn't speak the whole time.

With her looking the other way, Emma upended a whole load more herb into the pot. The more there was the quicker Erann would heal. It would also help Sereh to recover from her exertions as well, and Emma hoped that it would also assist her in putting off the effects of her excursion outside the shield.

Her secrecy was because she didn't want Sereh to realise the connection between the herb and Erann's fast recovery. She needed to maintain the split between her people and Greeneyes for a bit longer. She had to ensure that Sereh didn't become aware of anything else that was strange and difficult to explain until everything had happened, as it should. She would have to try and lie far more convincingly.

* * *

Satisfaction spread through him as Erann slept peacefully. He was alive and well, and Emma had assured him that he'd heal, given time. The girl was a complication to be born but even she'd played a part in ensuring Erann's survival, and Greeneyes even felt grateful towards her. He was prepared to tolerate her continued presence for a few days more. He could tell from the light touches he'd exerted onto her mind that she was buzzing with questions and that Emma was right to be on her guard around the girl. She could be a major problem.

* * *

The distinction between day and night, blurry at the best of times at the beginning of the Long Day, had ceased to have much meaning for Erann, as he lay ensconced in layer upon layer of furs and wolf pelts, and continued the slow process of healing. Whenever he woke, Emma or Sereh were there for him, offering food and drink and the means to relieve himself. When the pain was too great, Greeneyes was there to provide support.

On the rare occasions he managed to keep his eyes open, he'd been able to communicate further with Greeneyes and explore their unique bond more deeply. Greeneyes sometimes sent him images while he slept as well. The dreams he had were disturbing in a way he didn't fully grasp. Something felt wrong; something felt off. He couldn't narrow down what it was as his mind was too caught up in everything else that was happening. Emma, Sereh, Greeneyes, Rankil, his mother, the avalanche, his sister, his brother.

He found it hard to concentrate and to be coherent when he did speak to Emma or Sereh.

Sereh had been attentive to his every need, but since the arrival of Emma, he'd felt a reserve in her behaviour towards him. He didn't like it. He wanted to be more open with her.

Finally, on the fourth morning since the avalanche, he woke, coherent and relatively pain-free. His hands were clamped on his father's journal, although he couldn't remember picking it up before he'd slept. He knew that Sereh was interested in discussing it and wondered if maybe that had been his last coherent thought.

Emma handed him a hot drink and a bowl of soup. He drank both gratefully before asking Emma in a whisper how Sereh was. Emma seemed a little taken aback by his question. He imagined that they were both struggling to maintain civility. Sereh was all prickles and hurt feelings; Emma exuded a calmness that she perhaps did not feel.

Emma answered his question in a whisper,

"She seems... fine. Angry but fine. Be careful what you say around her, Erann."

He acknowledged her words with a smile before calling to Sereh. His voice was weaker than he'd have liked. However, she'd apparently been waiting for him to call because she came over, immediately, from her rock seat near the fire. Her opening words set the tone for the conversation,

"I don't like that woman," she urgently whispered to him, as she knelt down next to him. He pushed some of his furs to her side so that could kneel on them, instead of on the cold, black, cavern floor. She offered him a small tight smile as thanks and sat down cross-legged on the furs, her long legs compacted into the small area.

"What's she doing her? Where did she come from? I don't believe a word she says. She has more supplies than Rankil in that backpack of hers. There's something odd going on."

She whispered all this conspiratorially, and Erann glanced up to see Emma watching. She motioned that she was going outside and Erann nodded slightly to show he understood. She'd probably enjoy some time alone.

"I know it's all very strange, Sereh, but I can't help feeling grateful to her. She does have everything we need, and she's more than happy to share."

Sereh looked at him with such fierceness in her eyes that he knew he was in serious trouble. Emma stumbled over some loose rocks as she walked out of the cave and Sereh stayed quiet until she left, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes rolling in her head in annoyance at the interruption.

She'd patiently borne out the obvious lies and misdirections of the last four days but with Emma gone for a short time; he knew she had every intention of extracting the truth from him. He had no choice; he had to continue with the façade. This wasn't going to be pretty.

It started innocently enough. She pulled his furs down and took his left hand in hers, examining it as she did so as if she'd decided to start all over again with her questions and forget his response of moments ago. Only after a few moments of quiet did she look at him with her piercing blue eyes,

"So Erann," she began, as his heart sank, "any danger of you telling me what's going on here? I don't believe a word that you and Emma have fed me and I need to know the truth. You can tell me, or I'm leaving."

Erann flinched at her tone. It was a no-nonsense, practical tone. He knew she'd been treating him with fur gloves since his injuries, only now did he realise how she'd even moderated her tone when talking to him.

"Sereh, I've told you the truth and so has, I believe, Emma. What's all this about?"

He was hoping his honest tone would prevail; it didn't.

"Do you take me for a fool, Erann?" There's so much that's not right here, I can't believe that you seriously expect me to accept your lies and evasions."

She was starting to sound angry, and Erann grasped that there was no chance of this going his way. He was going to try all the same.

"Sereh explain to me what doesn't make sense. Help me understand what's going on in your mind?" his tone was soft and cajoling.

She looked at him in surprise and lifted her hands up placing his back under the fur.

"Where shall I start? On yes, I know, with the most obvious. How did you get out from the avalanche? Thinking about is, there's not a hope in Valhalla that I'd have been able to find you, or dig you out. At the time I was just so relieved that I didn't question it. It's unheard of for people to be found alive after being caught in an avalanche. I know Arrow's good at finding things, but that's ridiculous."

Erann took a breath to reply, but she continued,

"Secondly, how did you survive the night on Vatna Jokull?" She was ticking things off on her fingers. She'd given this much more thought than he had his replies.

"Thirdly, who is Emma and where did she come from and why does she look so familiar?"

He managed to interrupt with,

"That's three questions in one go." She gave him a withering look and continued.

"Fourthly, what's she been giving you to make you heal so quickly?" his head snapped up at that. Had Emma been giving him something? He just thought it was something to do with the influence of Greeneyes that accounted for his rapid recovery.

"Fifthly, whom by the Gods do you keep talking to when you think no-one's looking, or rather when you think I'm not looking? Emma is obviously in on it because she pays no attention when you do it."

"I need answers Erann. I need to know what's going on. I deserve to know what it is. I've saved your life enough times now that you should trust me. If not, I don't know how I can earn your trust."

"Erann, please, please, please be honest with me. You haven't been out there for days," and here she pointed out of the cave. "The thaw's barely started, last Long Night was way too long and then there's your secret journal. What's going on? I know you know. Please, Erann."

Her tone was pleading, and Erann bit back his initial responses of denial and subterfuge. She was right. She did deserve better. He just couldn't give it to her and even if he did she'd not believe him. Greeneyes and Emma had both made it very clear that she wasn't to be told. He couldn't go against their wishes. He was torn. In the end, he was silent for so long Sereh grew impatient and huffed angrily. Her reaction brought him back to the present, and he grasped that there was nothing else to do.

"Sereh, I'm sorry. You've no idea how sorry I am, but really, this isn't something I can tell you. It's not my secret to tell." His voice was pleading. It had no effect on her. Her eyes immediately blazed, and she almost shouted back at him,

"Whose is it then? Is it Emma's because by the Gods, I'm going to find out." The colour had risen in her cheeks, and she looked so angry he'd have been upset if he hadn't found it so irresistibly appealing.

He closed his eyes, reminded of just how young Sereh was. Even after all she'd been through, all the lies and harsh treatment at Rankil's hands, she still wanted to trust someone, and that person was he. He genuinely wished he wasn't going to be the one to teach her another hard lesson.

"It's not Emma either Sereh. You need to calm down. Getting angry and demanding answers is not the best way forward. There's so much more at stake than you being kept in the dark about something. You're right. This isn't a small matter; this is huge. Bigger than even I can comprehend. Please Sereh, listen to me. Understand what I'm saying. I need you. I need you here with me. Gods, I think I'm falling in love with you."

His admission stopped her mid-breath and drove whatever she was about to say from her mind. He thought he had her, and a surge of hope rushed through him, coupled with the knowledge that he'd spoken the truth, filled him with hope. He was wrong, though. Refocusing on their original argument, she angrily lashed out,

"Don't think you can distract me like that. This is bigger than your feelings. I deserve to know, and so does everyone else."

"I didn't say you didn't", he retorted almost as angrily, "I just said it wasn't my secret to tell. Not now. Sereh. Please." His voice broke on the please, and he glanced at her in defeat. He'd lost her before he'd even had her.

She got up and walked away from him towards the fire. He called her name. She ignored him. He attempted to sit up but staggered back to the floor as pain incapacitated him from his still broken leg. He saw sparks of light behind his screwed up eyes and instantly knew that he'd just caused some new damage to himself. He lay back, panting with effort and focused on steadying his breathing.

He hoped she'd calm down and come back to talk to him. He realised he hadn't made his argument as clear as he could, and he blamed himself. He wanted Sereh to understand what was going on and only his loyalty to Greeneyes had stopped him from telling her everything he knew. His ambivalence towards the whole not telling her had made his answers weak and ill-rehearsed.

He thought not telling her was stupid. He could understand that not everyone should know. However, he only wanted to tell Sereh. She was here and what was happening was so immediate to her and him. She did deserve to know. He'd have to speak to Greeneyes and Emma and see if he could get them to change their mind.

As his breathing returned to normal, he became aware of a scuffling noise coming from near the fire. He craned his neck to look and caught sight of Sereh putting her backpack on. His heart froze in his chest, and his stomach felt heavy. On Gods, she was leaving. Yes, she'd threatened it. That was all he'd thought it was – an empty threat. After all, where would she go?

"Sereh," he called, his voice catching and coming out too weak for her to hear.

"Sereh, Sereh what are you doing?" She didn't answer him, again. He craned his neck and saw her adjusting her backpack to make it comfortable.

"Sereh you can't leave. Not now Sereh, please, please listen to me."

His only response was a stony silence punctuated by a crunch of footsteps as she walked further away from him towards the cave's entrance.

He was desperate now and again attempted to get up. If he could just reach her, just hold her. He was sure she'd listen then. He knew that she reciprocated his feelings towards her. He just needed to get to her, to break her barriers down.

Sweat was beading his forehead, and he was overcome with a sick feeling. It'd been days since he'd been fully upright. Without Greeneyes there to blank out the pain, it was crushing him in dizzying waves.

Determinedly he made it to an upright position and grabbed for a handy stick that had been left by the side of his sick bed. He thought maybe its purpose had been as a discarded splint for his leg but that it had been too long. He held the stick with both hands and put all of his efforts into breathing, not being sick and just getting to his feet. He almost made it. With a crack, the stick he'd been clinging to for dear life snapped under his weight, and he tumbled, unceremoniously to the floor, sobbing and trying to catch his breath all at the same time.

In the back of his mind, he was hoping that his pathetic display would be enough. The rest of his mind was attempting to combat the intense pain that was making it difficult to think. His peripheral vision was starring, and he wondered what further damage he'd just done to his still healing body.

He became aware of a panting noise near his ear, and he turned his head to the side and caught sight of Arrow looking anxiously at him. There was no other sound. Then he heard Sereh whisper Arrow's name and the wolf looked torn. Erann assumed that she'd saved his life too many times recently simply to walk away from him now.

Another command, harsher and louder than the first, and Arrow looked at him with what Erann could only call pity, and walked away. Erann couldn't even muster his breathing to whisper her name, let alone to call her back.

He listened to her footsteps fade away, and then there was no sound apart from his harsh breathing and the occasional crack of the fire. He was alone, he was exhausted, and he was quite simply, stuck.

Chapter 10 - Alone

Time passed. He was unsure how much, only that it must have been a long time as he gradually became colder and colder as the day drew to a close. With little more to do, he slept, fitfully, dreaming always of Sereh and in his dreams, he called her name over and over again. Of course, she couldn't hear him.

At some point, Greeneyes must have, and he must have alerted Emma to his predicament while also numbing the intolerable pain he. She arrived, somewhat flustered, and soon righted him and had him back safe and warm in his makeshift bed. She fed him and then gave him a drink so heavily loaded with her savoury herb that he was asleep before the pot was finished. His night was peaceful, yet plagued with dreams of Sereh.

In them, she walked an enormous distance not resting for food or water. Erann had no idea where she was heading. He recognised nothing as everywhere was still covered with layers of untouched snow. Even as he dreamt, he knew that was wrong.

As Sereh had pointed out in their angry exchange, the thaw should have started by now. By now there should be green shoots springing everywhere, and the landscape should have shed its white cloak.

He could feel waves of anger coming from her. Not once did he see her face, only ever her back and eventually he realised he was seeing her from Arrow's perspective. It was bizarre for Arrow to be behind Sereh. She was always normally in front. He guessed that was a further sign of her anger, at him, that she burst ahead of her trusted friend. That knowledge tore at him, even as he slept.

Eventually, night fell, and she was forced to stop, again in a cave. Only then did he see her face, and only then, in the semi-light of the end of the day. He could have sworn that her face was lined with streaks of tears.

* * *

He woke to a day grown bright and the realisation that he'd slept all night and through much of the morning. He heard a crash and turned his head to see Emma swinging her pot back into place over the fire. With a crushing awareness, he remembered everything from the day before, and his pain, both emotional and physical returned. He let his anguish consume him for a few moments and then he called both to Emma and to Greeneyes.

They both came at his bidding. No reason to be secretive anymore and so Emma and he could talk freely to the giant, shining golden dragon. His green eyes whirled slowly as the sun bathed him in molten liquid.

The colour of Greeneyes seemed a little off, and Erann made a mental note that he needed to ask him about it. However his concern for Sereh was all consuming,

"We have to find her." No preamble, just his raw thoughts. Emma looked at him unflinchingly and then turned to Greeneyes,

"You can track her, can't you? Do you know where she is?"

"Yes, I do, and I could go and get her, but how is more of a problem. She can't see me; she doesn't even know I exist and even if she did I've no guarantee that she would come back." His thoughts were firm, and Erann thought, well prepared.

"I could come with you," Emma said.

"Yes you could, but neither does she trust you and even if she did, I can't transport you and her four-legged friend on my back, and neither, as we saw yesterday, can we leave Erann alone. You and I were only gone for an afternoon, and he's undone much of the healing that had taken place."

Erann cursed. He knew he'd injured himself yesterday in his desperate bid to keep Sereh here. He'd simply not comprehended just how much damage he had done to himself. He tuned his thoughts back into the conversation going on around him.

"Perhaps we should just leave her. She's never going to be able to see me, and as such any explanation you give to her Erann, will be treated with disbelief. I know you have feelings for her. I appreciate that. We've bigger things at stake here. You need to get well, and I need to get you and Emma to safety, back in my home. Once that's accomplished, we can start the search for Sereh. I can keep an eye on her until then."

Erann could feel his anger increasing as Greeneyes tried to rationalise everything so that they acted as he wanted.

"I realise all that Greeneyes. I do. But I need her back, here with me. I need her, and I need her to know what's going on. She has no one else. She trusted me, and I want that trust back."

Greeneyes looked at him with a look that Erann could interpret as nothing other than compassion.

"I can't allow you to tell her anything," he said into Erann's mind, slowly and simply. "You don't know everything you need to know. You must be patient."

Erann wanted to scream; he'd so had it with patience. This was his life and he needed to start living it as he wanted to. His father was dead, his mother nearly so and his sister had put herself in a terrible position to save her family. There was nothing he could do about any of that.

Sereh was real and significant and immediate. He needed her to feel complete. He was about to launch into it all with Greeneyes, about to let his festering anger burst forth when Greeneyes' attention flickered from him to Emma and registered what Erann could only interpret as concern.

Emma had been stood right next to him, actively listening to the conversation. Erann turned. She wasn't there now. He looked around in confusion.

Where had she gone?

Then he realised, she'd not moved away. She'd moved down, and was lying curled on the floor at Greeneyes feet making soft whimpering noises. He tried to reach her and failed. His injuries were starting to annoy him now. He understood he was healing quickly, thanks to Emma's herbs and Sereh pointing it out to him. It was just not fast enough.

Unable to reach her he spoke to Greeneyes.

"What's the matter with her?"

"I don't know. I can't get anything that makes any sense from her mind. It's almost as if she's not there anymore."

"How can that be? She's here, right in front of us. We can both see her for Gods' sake."

"I know. I'm ...confused, let me think."

Emma hadn't moved, and her soft whimpers had quietly died away. Erann was frantic. To get nearer to her, he shuffled up his makeshift bed. It hurt, just not as much as going sideways.

As Greeneyes was still silent, Erann continued his shuffling until eventually; he ended up close enough to Emma to touch her. She was glacial, and her eyes were open and stared at him without comprehension. He said her name. She didn't react.

He tried gently rocking her.

There was still no reaction. He had absolutely no idea of what to do and from Greeneyes continued silence he assumed he didn't either. He shuffled closer and put one of his many furs on top of her. At least he could keep her warm. There was very little else he could do.

As he lay panting after his efforts, he became aware of a faint whisper, repeating over and over again. It was one word, "shield", or he thought it was. He looked quizzically at Greeneyes only to find him still absorbed in his thoughts. He spoke out loud,

"Greeneyes," and then again, "Greeneyes." There was no response. Eventually, he shouted in his mind and Greeneyes glowing eyes focused abruptly on him, almost with an expression of surprise.

"Did you say something?" Greeneyes thought to Erann.

"Yes, she's speaking. I believe she's saying 'shield' do you know what that means?"

Greeneyes looked questioningly at Erann, and his face went blank, an expression that Erann associated with him listening to others thoughts. As Erann watched, comprehension grew on his face, and he began to move outside the cave.

"I have to get her back. She's been outside the shield for too long. All that time she's been with my kind, she's not aged, and now she is, all in one go. I must get her back. She can't get on my back. I'll have to carry her."

With that, he reached out a delicate claw and wrapped it around Emma, fur and all. He skipped to the cave's entrance, holding his fragile load, and then back-winged, launching himself, and flew off from the ground with a crack of his wings before rapidly gaining height.

Erann was speechless for the few moments it took. Belatedly he realised he was being left alone, again. Greeneyes, for all his hurry, must have picked up on Erann's thoughts as a comforting idea of, "I'll be back soon" stretched into Erann's head. He felt reassured and then unbelievably angry with himself. He was so bloody useless in his current state.

He kept in contact with Greeneyes thoughts for as long as he could. Eventually, they faded, and he was left all alone. He'd struggled back into his bed in the meantime and lay there feeling useless, not to mention hungry and thirsty. In the rush of everything, he'd not been fed or watered. It didn't help that there was a tantalising aroma emanating from the cook pot.

He lay, and he thought, and he recovered himself. Eventually, he could take it no more and found himself willing to try his ungainly shuffle towards the cook pot and the fire. He geared himself for the pain and uncomfortable manoeuvre and then began the slow struggle towards the fire.

His face quickly beaded with sweat, and he found himself gasping for breath again. As he looked over his shoulder, he was surprised to see that he was making real progress. The pain was strangely subdued, and it did make him wonder, briefly, why the journey was so much easier than yesterday when he'd tried to reach Sereh. What had changed or more precisely, what had healed?

He focused exclusively on the smell of food coming from the cook pot.

He arrived, a panting wreck, strangely exuberant at such a small accomplishment. He levered himself into place close to the fire and felt uncomfortable for a few moments as his face cooled from his actions while it was warmed from the heat of the fire. He found a pot of water and gratefully drank it down.

He desperately wanted the food from the pot but realised that it was too high for him to reach. Instead, his stomach rumbling, and his mouth salivating, he reached for another cup of water and added some of the healing herbs to it. It tasted unpleasant not steeped in boiling water. He didn't care. He knew it was healing him and he wanted to be completely healed, now.

He glanced through the cave opening as he lay, spent on the floor. The exhilaration had passed, and he felt drained. The sun was going down, and he understood that his actions had taken him the entire afternoon and not the brief moments he'd thought. He felt deflated and very, very alone. Dejected he felt his eyes close and welcomed the respite of sleep.

* * *

He felt it more than anything. He'd been soundly asleep, and then he just wasn't. He searched his mind, wondering if it was the return of Greeneyes that had awoken him. It wasn't. Greeneyes was still too distant to hear. He hoped he'd be back soon and hopefully, would bring help.

He was hungry and thirsty, in pain and uncomfortable beyond imagining. He'd slept where he fell and had ended up with his head practically in the fire. That was another thing. He was cold. The fire had burnt so low as to be almost non-existent. He'd need to add some wood to it quickly if it wasn't to die out. Emma had left a pile of timber near to the fire, and he would be able to reach it if he moved slightly.

He wondered what had woken him. Yes, the sun was starting to steal across the sky, alleviating the gloom of night, so he'd slept the night away, but it was not, that which had woken him. He was sure of that. It had been something else. He couldn't now remember the feeling, like a dream forgotten the moment you wake, although it had been real and liveable only moments ago.

He could see nothing out of the entrance of the cave, and there was perfect silence broken only by his breathing. He tried to haul himself up onto a nearby rock and after much effort, succeeded in sitting upright without too much pain. A huge smile lit his face. He was healing fast, and he'd be able to go after Sereh. Soon.

Sereh. That was it. That was what had woken him. An image of her hurt and in pain, lying twisted and mangled down an icy crevasse. She looked terrible, and her colouring was so bad that he wondered if she was even alive.

Where had the image come from? Was it true? It terrified him. He could barely sit unaided, how was he to rescue her? His thoughts were a riot that he tried to calm by telling himself that it was just a dream, no matter how real it had felt.

He shivered, remembering how cold he was. Whatever the dreams implications, he needed to see to his own cares immediately. He reached for and grabbed a stick and used it to poke the almost dead fire. As the ashes settled a small flame appeared and he quickly fed it small scraps of wood and grasses from Emma's pile.

When he was confident that it would stay alight on its own, he fed it a larger piece of wood. The flames licked hungrily along the length of the wood, and he felt the warmth on his face. Now that he was sitting he was surprised by the range of movements he had.

He deftly lifted the pot of cold, snow melted water onto its place above the fire and managed to pull the pot of food closer to him. It was well cooked and had begun to congeal. He scooped out a bowlful and hungrily dug into it, aware of how famished he was. The food tasted good, and he burnt his tongue to eat as much as he could as quickly as he could. He refilled his bowl, twice before he felt full and then he looked about wondering what to do next.

Surely it wouldn't be long now until Greeneyes returned? Or until he could at least 'hear' him again. He wanted to ask him about Sereh. He was wondering if he'd be able to 'hear' her thoughts to work out where she was and if she was all right?

He cast his eyes about the small cave and his eyes alighted on the stick he'd tried to use yesterday. It gave him an idea. He was feeling stronger today, and he was fed up of being incapacitated.

He angled himself off the rock and managed to drag his injured leg behind him as he hobbled to the stick using the ragged walls of the cave to support himself. It hurt like Valhalla; he couldn't deny it, however, his triumph at what he was doing won over the pain.

He reached the stick and precariously bent down to pick it up. His broken leg screamed in agony, and his head started to pound as the blood rushed to it. He just managed to grab the stick and right himself without falling over. He grinned in victory. That was it. He was going to ensure that he was walking, in a fashion, by the time Greeneyes appeared.

The end of the stick was conveniently rounded, and he angled it under the arm that corresponded to his broken leg. The stick would then take his weight, instead of his leg. He shuffled forward a little and managed to balance on his good leg and move his broken leg as well. He let out a whoop of excitement.

His shout of exhilaration masked the scampering noise of an animal entering the cave, and he completely lost his balance when he caught sight of Arrow stood in front of him. He crumpled to the floor with a cry of unimaginable discomfort and Arrow rushed to him, to breathe her warm and musty smelling breath all over him.

Through the haze of pain, he looked around frantically for Sereh. Surely if Arrow was here then so was she. It meant she'd come back; she'd forgiven him. But he couldn't see her and concentrated on righting himself and stretching out his bruised leg that had taken the brunt of the fall.

His breathing was as ragged as Arrow's, and he couldn't speak to the wolf or shout Sereh's name for help for some time. In the interval, Arrow stood up and walked to the fire. She began greedily licking the remains of Erann's meal, and he noticed that in the mere two days since he'd last seen her, she'd lost weight and her previously pristine fur was matted and filthy.

He sorted his legs and his stick out and slowly regained his feet. Arrow was still by the fire, and so he hobbled his way back to it, painfully but resolutely. He'd hurt himself badly when he'd fallen and his leg, and now his stick arm, hurt afresh with every step.

Arrow looked on patiently, her hunger temporarily forgotten as she watched his measured movements. He reached his previous rock perch and sank gracelessly. Arrow was eyeing the cook pot and chuckling to himself, he swung the pot his way and refilled the bowl. Her mouth was watering, and Erann warned her that it was hot before placing it on the floor in front of her.

Like him before, the heat was not a deterrent, and she gratefully wolfed down the food and then looked at him questioningly. He chuckled again, refilled the pot, and returned it to her. Again, the food lasted bare moments.

When she'd finished, she came and put her head in his lap and looked at him with sorrowful yellow eyes. His hand caressed her ears, and he said,

"What is it, girl? Where's Sereh?"

Her continued absence was worrying him. He was beginning to fear that his vision of her, which had woken him, was real. What other reason could there be for Arrow to have left her? He didn't expect a reply and neither did he receive one, as such. Arrow only grabbed his arm, gently, with her mouth and tried to tug him away.

His heart sank. Arrow was here for help. Sereh was in trouble, and for all his successes with his stick, he couldn't venture far outside the cave. He felt despair grip him. Arrow's tugging became more insistent, and he reached his other arm forward to pat her on the head. She angrily shook his hand off.

"I know girl. I know," he said, "But I can't do anything. I can't leave. I'm still injured. We need to wait for Greeneyes; he'll know what to do. Emma's not here. She's ill. Greeneyes has taken her away, back to her home."

Erann was wondering at himself. Why was he explaining all this to the wolf? She wouldn't understand and yet somehow she seemed to. She let go of his arm and sank back on her haunches, looking at him intelligently. He frantically cast about with his mind to see if he could 'hear' Greeneyes. He couldn't. Surely he couldn't be gone much longer.

He hoped Emma was all right and that she'd made it back okay. What was it that she'd kept whispering? That was it, 'shield'. At the time he'd not been paying much attention to her words, more concerned with trying to help her. Now he wondered.

Greeneyes had understood what she'd meant. With certainty, insight sank in. Shield. It must mean the opaque purple wall he'd encountered. Sereh hadn't been able to see it, but he had. Now he wondered, and a thought filled his mind, the only problem being that he needed Sereh to implement it.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him some time to realise that there was another presence in his mind, calling to him frantically. Greeneyes.

Erann concentrated on the faint messages he was getting. Greeneyes must still be far away. He was practically shouting his thoughts to make himself heard. Erann reached with his mind to answer, and a sense of peace flooded through him from Greeneyes. He received some complicated images that he interpreted as meaning that Emma was now safe and well. The images wavered slightly, and Erann interpreted them as fatigue from his friend. He wanted to tell him to rest, to go home and sleep. After all, he was well. He couldn't make the thoughts, though. He had Sereh to consider.

He thought as clearly and loudly as he could of what he wanted Greeneyes to do and received a confirmation from Greeneyes. Everything then went silent, as he assumed, Greeneyes sought Sereh out. He became aware of his uncomfortable physical surroundings in the cave, and the piece of rock placed just right to stick into his back, while at the same time being able to 'see' what Greeneyes could. It was exceedingly disconcerting as he flew while staying completely still.

Arrow came back to his side and laid her head back in his lap as if she realised what was happening. He distractedly stroked behind her ears, and she let out a small growl of contentment. Then Greeneyes did something Erann hadn't expected.

He connected with what Erann could only imagine was Arrow's mind as well. Erann suddenly saw the journey she and Sereh had made together in flashes, quick flashes, like his dream during the night. Arrow's contentment changed to a whine, but she stayed still. And Erann redoubled his efforts to stroke her and keep her complacent.

Erann 'saw' that Sereh had walked a long way in her two days, but there seemed to have been no purpose to her wondering. All she'd succeeded in doing was in walking herself half to death.

Arrow had followed closely behind the whole time. Sereh was a presence in every one of the flashes and the sight of her determined, defiant and so vulnerable filled him with feelings that he'd never experienced before.

He was proud of her, scared for her and amazed by her. His heart thudded as he watched the images and as he watched her fall it felt as though his heart had stopped. She lay crumpled at the bottom of a steep crevasse, but she was alive or had been then.

He thought to Greeneyes and the imagines in his mind changed. Greeneyes would go and find her. He'd rescue her. Reprieve so profound it left him feeling weak thudded through him and then Arrow was gone, presumably to help Greeneyes, and he was alone again and feeling useless.

The things he'd seen had robbed him of the ability to move or to think of anything other than Sereh. He hoped Greeneyes got to her in time. He'd never forgive himself if he didn't. He knew at that moment that he'd do anything for her. He'd nurse her back to health, and he would tell her the truth. His heart demanded it.

* * *

His wings beat high in the air, and he felt, as always, exhilaration in his power. Below him, the wolf was running slightly in front, frantically across the barely melting snow.

Greeneyes was not flying at top speed as he'd have left the wolf far behind. Instead, he reigned himself in, knowing it was far easier to follow the wolf than to 'see' the images in her mind.

Why was he pampering to Erann's needs? The answer was quick in forming. The images from Erann's head were too intense to ignore. Erann needed the girl in a way that Greeneyes didn't fully understand. From a young age he'd known he'd always be alone and he'd not formed any close bonds with anyone other than his family. He'd appreciated he'd need to be self-fulfilling to survive in his position. The intensity of Erann's feeling for Sereh was making him reconsider his attitude, as was his genuinely close connection to Erann.

Below, the wolf had come to an abrupt stop and was uncertainly looking both up and down. Greeneyes lowered himself quickly to the ground with a snap of his wings. The wolf had found the place where Sereh had fallen, either through a cessation in Sereh's scent or from memory. Greeneyes wasn't yet sure if when he 'looked' into the wolf's mind he was seeing or remembering events. He planned on giving it more thought when he had time.

The wolf, Arrow, Erann called her, ran to him and started barking frantically. Greeneyes couldn't see Sereh anywhere and briefly wondered why Arrow had stopped here. Then in the blink of his huge eyelid. Arrow was gone.

Greeneyes rushed forward to where she'd been standing and nearly stepped in through the hole in the snow. It was tiny, and Greeneyes shook his head in bewilderment. How had the girl managed to fall down the only, small hole on the entire mountainside?

He walked back and slowly lowered his head so that he could look down inside the crevasse. It took him a moment to focus and when he did he was dismayed. Sereh was lying in an awkward position on a tiny icy ledge which dropped away steeply on one side. On the other side, there was a sheer rock wall littered with tiny, sparkling icicles. There was no way that he'd be able to go down there. He couldn't even get his whole head through the hole and was currently only looking with one eye. He attempted to poke his front claw through the fissure in place of his eye but could grab only air. She was too far down.

He refocused his eye. Arrow was whimpering silently at Sereh's side, but Sereh didn't stir. She looked ill. Her face was sheened in sweat, and her skin was icy to behold, and he feared that to touch it would only confirm that she was dead. Then a tormented groan escaped her mouth. Not dead yet but it surely wouldn't be much longer.

Arrow was looking at Greeneyes questioningly, and Greeneyes was stumped. He couldn't reach her, let alone get her out. He thought this to Arrow, and the wolf let loose a long, tail twitching, howl, which needed no foray into her mind to understand its meaning. She was mourning her friend.

Making a quick decision, Greeneyes realised that he had no choice. He would need to get Erann here. He didn't know how but letting Sereh die when Erann and Arrow might be able to rescue her was not his decision to make.

He didn't need Arrow now. He thought to the wolf what he was going to do and told her to stay by Sereh's side. The wolf apparently agreed because she lay down next to Sereh in an effort, Greeneyes assumed, to keep her warm.

Greeneyes took off with a loud crack of his massive wings. He needed to get to Erann and quickly. From looking in Sereh's mind, he knew just how weak she was.

* * *

He was frantically preparing the cave for Sereh's arrival. He needed to do everything she'd done for him only a few days ago. The problem was he'd been unconscious, and so he wasn't exactly sure what she'd done.

So far, he'd rebuilt a massive fire using more of Emma's store of peat – he'd have to ask Greeneyes to get more. He'd filled all the available pots full of snow to melt so that he could warm her up with the melted fluid. He'd even put some of the wolf pelts by the fire to warm and was heating a stone to place on her bed, wrapped in pelts, to keep her really warm. He knew he needed to pay particular attention to her nose, toes and fingers. He didn't want her to lose them.

It was painful hobbling around the cave, but at least he was hobbling. His leg was excruciating, and he wasn't sure if it was from the initial break or from his repeated falls of the last few days when he'd been trying to get to his feet.

He knew that Greeneyes was exasperated with him for undoing so much of the healing that had taken place and he was a little resentful. He couldn't just lie around waiting for his leg to heal – it needed to be healed – he needed to find Sereh. Some things were just more important than his physical well-being. He feared he'd be left with a permanent limp but had reasoned it away in his mind already. It was better to limp than live without Sereh.

He was not sure how long Arrow and Greeneyes had been, but he was surprised when he felt Greeneyes in his mind. She can't have been as far away as he'd feared.

He dashed, as much as he could, from the cave and almost fell over Greeneyes huge, twitching, golden tail. He looked around frantically when he'd regained his balance, but he couldn't see Arrow or Sereh. Before he could completely panic, he felt a reassurance in his mind and looked at Greeneyes.

Greeneyes seemed uncomfortable if a dragon could, and Erann's heart instantly sank. They'd been too late. He dropped down to the snow-covered floor. Grief like nothing he'd ever felt before washed over him – worse than when his father had gone; when his sister had left and when he'd realised that his mother was slowly dying as well.

Again, a feeling of reassurance came into his mind along with a complicated stream of images. He quickly understood what Greeneyes was communicating to him and was on his feet in moments. Pain shot through him and left him momentarily breathless. Greeneyes thought concern at him, but he brushed it off. He had no time to think of himself.

He strode into the cave, grabbing things as he went and stuffed them into his backpack. He needed furs and anything rope like that he could put his hands on. He grabbed all the wolves' pelts as well. He'd need to drag Sereh out of the hole she was in. He knew that Greeneyes would help him; he just hoped that Arrow would understand enough to help as well. He'd not be able to rescue her alone.

In a matter of moments, he was back with Greeneyes, backpack on one arm and his stick under the other. He was struggling to stay upright. Luckily Greeneyes didn't notice, or for once remained silent on the matter. Whichever, Erann was grateful.

He looked at Greeneyes in expectation, wondering how they were going to accomplish this. Greeneyes looked at him quizzically and then delicately extended one massive front claw, projecting an image that Erann was to step inside. Erann was again grateful. He knew he'd not be able to clamber onto his back without doing himself more and probably severe damage.

As he stepped inside the claw, he experienced a moment of fear when the other claw closed around him. It was like being imprisoned.

Now that the moment was upon him he wasn't sure that he wanted to experience flying. He felt a small rumble from Greeneyes and wondered if he was laughing at him. He brushed the thought aside. He needed to get to Sereh no matter how uncomfortable the journey.

Greeneyes extended his wings, and they snapped. Erann felt himself being lifted from the ground and looked through a gap in the claws to see what was happening.

They lifted slowly from the ground, and Erann could see with his own eyes the destruction that the avalanche had caused. The mountain looked misshapen, and the grey of the rock showed where before there'd only been white. Erann was astounded.

Without Greeneyes help there was no chance he'd have survived. Gratitude swept through him, which Greeneyes returned with a metaphorical shrug of his huge shoulders. Erann supposed to someone as strong and powerful as Greeneyes it was nothing. That said, he couldn't help Sereh now without Erann. He assumed that sometimes there was more to it than sheer bulk and strength.

As Greeneyes flew, Erann looked all around him from his new vantage point, realising he quite liked flying. All around him, he could see a gleaming vastness of white. Where the sun caught it, it reflected back in an assortment of blues and purples, no two places looking quite the same.

Here and there, the colours of the land could be seen just starting to break through – the deep greens, browns and black. The snow must at last be melting in those few places. As their journey continued, Erann realised that the white was more extensive than the land. The thaw was coming, but only slowly. Erann finally understood Sereh's concern of a few days ago. He'd been virtually imprisoned in a cave for over seven days. She'd seen all this first hand when she had been foraging.

The ride was relatively calm, and Erann felt a brief smile of pleasure cross his face. It lasted for as long as it took to land and for Erann to realise just how precarious Sereh's position was. Greeneyes showed him an image of where Sereh was so that he could determine where he was supposed to find her.

He wanted to go to her, immediately on landing and being released from Greeneyes claws but resisted. There was no point in him becoming trapped with her. There was no chance of him going down to her. There was already no available space on her ledge with Arrow at her side.

He reached for and began pulling out all the furs he'd brought with him. His fingers were fumbling with his barely contained panic, and he found it harder than he could imagine just to concentrate.

Greeneyes entered his mind again, conveying soothing images. Erann wanted to believe the images, but he couldn't. At this moment, at this time, he couldn't allow himself to hope. Sereh was too important to him; he couldn't let himself relax.

What would he do if he calmed down and this rescue didn't work? In his fevered state, he desperately hoped that he'd miss nothing and that the plan would work.

Eventually, he had everything ready, and he called to Arrow. Hoping that he'd be able to get Arrow to understand what she needed to do, he waited impatiently for her to appear.

Arrow slowly and gingerly climbed out of the hole and came to stand by Erann. Her fur cloak was frozen and unruly, and Erann dreaded to think of the condition that Sereh was in. He handed her the end of the fur rope, and she clamped it between her teeth, before carefully returning down the hole. Erann squeezed his eyes shut to calm his frantically beating heart and gasping breath. It didn't work.

Arrow barked, and Erann took hold of the end of the rope. He began to pull. His leg screamed in agony. Almost instantaneously he felt a lessening on the rope and looked around in surprise. Greeneyes had grabbed the very end of the rope and was walking backwards to help him pull the rope up.

Erann still tried to help but quickly realised it was pointless. He was more of a hindrance. Instead, he walked near to the hole and waited for Sereh, to hopefully, appear.

There were snow and rock falling down the hole as the friction from the rope caused a mini avalanche to fall. Arrow let out a small yelp, but the rope continued to move. They couldn't stop. Not now. The crevasse was far too unstable.

With a cry of joy, Erann saw Sereh's head appear through the hole. He cried out in alarm. She looked awful; her face blue and bruised and sheeted in sweat. He wanted to go to her, to touch her, to reassure himself that she was all right. But he continued to wait until she cleared the hole and was a short distance away from it.

He felt a slight trembling in the ground below him and reached out frantically for something to hold onto. At that moment, Arrow appeared, and he grabbed her. She pulled them both clear as the ground around them disappeared, down a long and dark tunnel, to who knew where.

Erann lay beside Sereh, getting his breath back and cursing his stupidity for getting too close to the hole. He reached for Sereh's icy hand and prized his own fingers from Arrow's fur at the same time. Greeneyes had also returned to his side, and with part of his mind he wondered at the strange picture they must make together; a wolf, a dragon, a man and a woman. No one would ever believe him, and he wasn't sure he wanted anyone to, other than Sereh.

He rolled over, towards Sereh, and finally got a really good look at her. His heart stopped temporarily. Were they too late? He reached out his shaking hand and gently placed it on her chest. It took an agonisingly long time, but he eventually felt a slight heartbeat.

She was alive – that was all he needed to know. He undid all the tangled furs that had formed the rope and heaped them on her. Then he turned to Greeneyes and showed him an image of what he wanted him to do. Greeneyes wrapped them both in his front claws. Erann tried to get Arrow to come with them, but she shied away, and instead took off running back towards the cave. With a snap of his wings, Greeneyes had them in the air.

* * *

She wasn't sure of anything anymore. Even the cold had faded to an irritating niggle. However, she was sure she'd felt movement and that she heard Erann speak her name. She smiled to herself. It hurt. Her face was so cold it was frozen in place. She'd been a fool, but at least in death, she'd see Erann again. The thought filled her with peace.

After some time, she realised the movement had stopped and wondered why. Only moments later she felt furs being piled around her and then, after a few more moments, the pain came. Every part of her body was tingling, and not in a nice way. She cried out. This was torture. She'd rather stay numb than endure this pain.

She was aware of someone whispering her name. It was Erann. And of a persistent force inside her mind trying to relieve her suffering. She fought the presence, concentrating on fighting that instead of on the almost unendurable agony that was lancing through her body, and also on Erann's voice. Erann's voice would keep her safe. She wanted to be with the voice.

* * *

He felt utterly useless. Everything he did to comfort Sereh seemed to make her cry out in pain. He'd covered her with furs and placed the heat stone at her feet before gently dribbling warmed water into her mouth. Still, she twisted and turned.

Eventually, he'd asked Greeneyes to calm her pain – Greeneyes said she'd fought him with so much strength that he was unable to help. Still, Greeneyes stayed. Only when Arrow had returned and laid at her side, her right hand entangled in her fur, had she calmed down at all. The only comfort was that in her pain, she cried his name, over and over again.

Tears streaked his face, and his heart had not beaten out a steady rhythm since he'd seen her return from her crevasse, complete and whole. Greeneyes had tried to calm him as well. Erann had refused his help and had pushed him from his mind, a skill he'd not realised he had.

Greeneyes had accepted it all willingly. He'd not become upset but had retreated outside the cave, concentrating on blowing his warm breath inside the cave. Only when Sereh seemed to sleep more naturally did Erann even begin to relax, and then when he did, his leg screamed in anguish; now he accepted Greeneyes help. He needed it to function.

He made himself a strong tea with Emma's herb and then dribbled more of it through Sereh's lips. She groaned in her sleep and whispered his name. He held her now warm hand, and whispered back that she was okay now, she was safe and that he loved her. She whispered back, "Me too". Tears pricked his eyes as he saw a small smile light up her face. Wherever she was now, she at least understood what he was saying. His heart leapt. She was safe, and she loved him.

When she slept peacefully, he gently uncovered her feet and removed her fur-lined shoes, and seal skin outers. Her feet were still cold, but each toe responded to his touch. He took another heated stone from the fire and wrapped it in a fur before placing it near her feet. He checked her hands and fingers as well before placing them under the furs close to her skin.

He ran his hands over her face and through her long, lustrous blonde hair. It just felt so good to have her here – whole and in one piece. Eventually, he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, and he climbed under the furs next to her, lacing his fingers through her own.

* * *

All night she dreamed strange dreams. Faces floated in front of her; her father; her mother; Rankil; Erann; Dabbie; Emma. She tried to catch her dreams, but they slipped through her mind almost as soon as she'd imagined them.

She felt warm and loved, and only her unsettling dreams forced her to the surface before she sank back down again. Finally, a dream of Rankil calling her name pushed her back to the surface enough to wake her. Her eyes opened, slowly, unsure where she was.

She felt that she was surrounded by warm bodies and gradually became aware of Arrow to her left and Erann to her right. She looked above and recognised the intricate black and grey pattern of the cave where she'd nursed Erann back to health. How had she come to be here, surrounded by the two people she loved most? The last thing she recalled clearly was falling down a hole that had opened up before her in the thick white snow.

Her mind wondered. Why did it matter how she came to be here? Surely all that mattered was that she was and that she was, somehow, magically, safe.

Erann slept, his face towards her and she reached out to touch him. Noticing at the same moment that one hand was entwined in his, a feeling of deep and profound love flooded through her. He'd rescued her; somehow, there was no other explanation.

With her free hand, she touched under his eyes, unaccountably saddened by the signs of exhaustion there. She'd caused them; she knew it without having to be told. He'd told her that he loved her, and she'd left, callously without saying goodbye. She regretted her actions.

She traced the line of his stubbly jaw and the outline of his nose. He didn't stir. His bruising was almost all gone, and she could clearly see the beauty that was his face. Her heart swelled with joy, and she felt tears begin to fall down her face. She was a fool. Why did anything matter except this feeling of profound peace that she had here with Erann and Arrow?

The sun was just beginning to light the inside of the cave, and it was warm and inviting. She relished the heat appreciating it more than ever now that she'd endured days deprived of it, as she lay trapped in the cold and dark. Hazy memories of her days alone were slowly filling her mind, and she shivered in remembrance. She never wanted to move from here.

Her stomach rumbled, loudly, and she felt both Arrow and Erann stir. She cursed quietly under her breath, but there was nothing for it. Her stomach was empty and wasn't about to give up complaining.

Arrow woke most quickly and licked her face in riotous welcome when she realised she was awake, before dashing from the cave. Sereh grinned to herself. She knew how the wolf felt. Her bladder was also crying out to be relieved.

She gently extracted herself from Erann's grip, regretting having to do so and tested her feet and toes by wiggling them all experimentally. She could feel them all, and she decided that standing was worth a go.

She thrust the furs back from her body, feeling the cold air rush over her body. She braced herself against the smooth cave wall and gingerly placed her feet under her body and slowly started to stand. She felt dizzy, but it was manageable. With an effort and not too much noise, she made it to her feet.

Only when she was on her feet did she realise that her boots were missing. She found them besides Erann and a stick. The stick gave her pause for thought even as she concentrated on reaching over and getting her boots. However her need was greater, and she quickly slipped on her boots, only a little wobbly, and dashed from the cave in much the same way that Arrow had.

Outside the sun was making the snow sparkle like a field of jewels and after Sereh had relieved herself, for some time, she spent a few moments enjoying the warmth of the sun on her exposed face. Her face felt raw, and she reached up to touch it, aware suddenly that her face was sore and bumpy. The effects of her exposure, she supposed, to the terrible freezing conditions of her hole. Arrow joined her, and the pair of them stood there together, enjoying the mild heat and just being together.

Erann found them there some time later. He had a manic grin on his face, and Sereh returned it, wholeheartedly, until she saw him clearly. He stood there, with his upper body wrapped in one of the furs, and with his sealskin lined trousers shining inky in the sun. He was hobbling and could only walk with the aid of the stick. Her smile slowly disappeared from her face and Erann looked at her in confusion.

Now was not the time, she knew it, but now that she'd seen him, now that she could think clearly, she knew that she needed answers. Erann could not possibly have rescued her alone. Speaking of being alone, where was Emma?

She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. Now really wasn't the time. She should at least give him a chance to explain before she jumped down his throat demanding answers again. After all, last time had not exactly been a success. She wanted to see the smile back on his face, which lit up his entire being and bought an almost luminous jade sheen to his eyes.

She plastered the smile back on her face and stepped towards him. No matter what, she was exuberantly pleased to see him.

He smiled back uncertainly, the colour only half back in his eyes, and reached his hand out to her. She took it gently and squeezed. The light fully returned to his eyes and her heart pounded in her chest. No one had ever looked at her like that or been so pleased to see her.

Holding hands and with Arrow in front, they walked back inside the cave. It was awkward with Erann's stick. Sereh felt herself almost loose her balance in her effort to help him but eventually, they stumbled inside, and she let him nurse her back to health.

* * *

Sereh woke the next sunrise, again sandwiched between Arrow and Erann but her feelings of love and exhilaration were missing. She ached, her head hurt and for all the nothings they'd discussed last sunrise, as they ate and tidied the cave, Erann had offered no explanations. She had a feeling of de ja vu. She hazarded a guess about how this day would end, and it grieved her.

The day before he'd seen to her needs as best he could, yet she'd ended up doing more for him than he'd done for her. With his stick, he could not lift or carry much, and like her, he was obviously in pain from whatever he'd done when rescuing her, if anything. She was starting to doubt now and kept looking at Arrow for confirmation of her misgivings. Arrow was giving nothing away.

Finally, they'd eaten and she'd fallen asleep, exhaustion overtaking her when she had only been awake for half of the day. Erann had half woken her and escorted her awkwardly back to her bed of wolf furs. She'd not wanted to go but had been left with no choice. Her eyes wouldn't stay open, and her body wouldn't do as it was told. It felt heavy, and she struggled to put one foot in front of the other.

As she'd fallen asleep, Erann had brushed her hair from her face and run his hand along her forehead and under her eyes, tracing her face in much the same way she'd done to him when she'd first woken. She'd wanted to bat his hand away but hadn't the energy or the inclination to make her mild annoyance known.

Anyway, his touch had left a hot trail along her face. If she'd been more awake, she knew she'd have kissed him and then regretted her actions later. Now she felt well rested and ready for a fight. His actions had put her in jeopardy, and she wanted to know why. She was blaming him completely for her accident.

She sat up decisively, only then realising that he had his arm around her under her head and that his other hand gently held hers. The feelings of protectiveness she felt were immense. She wanted to be loved by him; wanted to let herself love him, as she now knew she did. She wanted it more than anything, well, except maybe some explanations.

With annoyance she let go of his hand and stumbled to her feet. Her head felt light. She needed to drink and eat. There was a delicious smell coming from the cook pot, and she staggered towards it, aware as she went of every aching part of her body. In her temper, she'd quickly forgotten how lucky she was to be alive. By rights, she should still be crumpled at the bottom of a crevasse, cold, dead and alone. Her mind might forget. Her body wouldn't.

She groaned as she perched herself on a rock seat and reached for the cook pot. Immediately Arrow was at her side. Sereh wasn't even sure where she'd appeared from and looked around in some confusion. She could only imagine that Arrow had been exploring the cavern system in search of more dead meat.

She stroked the wolf's head and then gave them both huge bowls full of the tasty stew that Erann had prepared. She had her appetite back today instead of the day before when she'd wanted to eat but had been too tired to do more than sample Erann's attempts at cooking.

In the corner, Erann slept on as Sereh glanced towards the cave entrance. The day seemed duller than yesterday, and she wondered if perhaps it was earlier than she thought and the sun hadn't yet fully risen. She took her bowl towards the cave entrance and was instantly blinded by dazzling sunlight.

She blinked in confusion – had a cloud been obscuring the sun before?

* * *

He woke as sunlight filled the cave, realising instantly that Greeneyes had moved away from the entrance because he could hear him retreating over the disturbed surface.

Ever since he'd become aware of Greeneyes, his senses appeared to have become acuter. He could even make out the noise of something small scurrying right at the back of the cave if he concentrated.

Greeneyes had been using his bulk to block the worst of the wind and cold. Erann was grateful. Anything that aided Sereh in her recovery was appreciated.

He turned to look at her, but she'd already woken. He glanced around expecting to see her but didn't. Then he understood. She'd wanted to go outside, and so Greeneyes had moved away from the entrance.

In the euphoria of yesterday, he'd not spoken to Greeneyes about telling Sereh. He knew that today he must. While Sereh had been content, just about, yesterday to just be alive and be fed, he knew her well enough by now to realise that the questions would be coming today. When they did, he wanted to be prepared. He could not lose her again.

Getting up from his sleeping place was, as ever, a struggle. His leg was healing, and so were his bumps and grazes. Still, he felt awkward. After the events of the last few days, he didn't want to push his luck any further. They all needed to leave this place if he was to show Sereh the shield and to do that he needed to be able to walk without a stick.

He'd been liberally dosing himself with Emma's herb. He had no idea of the correct dosage and just hoped that he wasn't somehow making things worse. He'd also been giving a smaller dosage to Sereh. While she'd no outward signs of injury, amazingly, the stresses her body had endured in her days in the cold needed to be combated. He hoped that Emma's herb was a quick fix it for everything and anything.

He hobbled to the cook pot and helped himself to some of his stew and brewed himself another pot full of Emma's herb. He then opened his mind to Greeneyes. He may as well get this over and done with – at the least, Greeneyes might be more reasonable than Sereh.

Erann was pleased to find Greeneyes in good spirits. From his perch above the cave, he was watching Sereh and Arrow play. Sereh was throwing balls of snow which Arrow then couldn't find once they'd landed in the soft snow they played within. Greeneyes found it amusing and was musing on the wolf's intelligence. Arrow was able to find Sereh in the snow but unable to fathom out that the snowball was being subsumed by the rest of the snow. He couldn't quite work that out.

At the touch of Erann's mind, he turned his full attention to Erann.

"I see you're improving day by day Erann. How is the pain today?"

As ever, Erann was a little startled by Greeneyes' attention to his well-being. He needed to get used to it; it wasn't as if Greeneyes was going anywhere.

"I'm going to try without my stick today. Then we can leave this place once and for all."

Greeneyes let out a rumble of what Erann had decided was laughter.

"Please try not to push yourself too hard, too soon. I think you've already done more than enough damage to yourself, don't you?"

Erann accepted that with a wry smile to himself.

"Of course, you're right. But there's Sereh to consider. I need to make her trust me completely. I know she has questions and I need to give her answers."

There was silence for a few moments as Greeneyes considered his response. Erann worried that again they'd disagree. He was surprised by Greeneyes answer.

"Erann, I've looked inside her. I've looked for the differences in you. I can't find anything. Nothing is different. She is as you are, yet still, she can't 'see me'. She felt my shadow move this morning but thought nothing of it. I don't know how you can explain to her or how you can make her see when right now she can't see. The wolf can see me, or at least some approximation of me. You can see me. Sereh, I fear, will never see me. You'll have to think of another explanation Erann for the things that have happened. I don't know what it will be. I'm sorry my friend."

There was a deep sadness in Greeneyes 'voice' and Erann felt much of his pre-planned arguments drain away. He'd not expected his friend to offer so much and to understand his needs. That he did and that he could find no way around it was sobering.

Erann thought desperately. While he could conjure up other explanations, they'd all be as equally fantastical as the truth, and somehow he would feel better if he could at the least offer the truth and make an effort to share everything he knew with Sereh.

Greeneyes came and poked his huge golden head inside the cave, drawing his green eyes level with Erann. Erann unthinkingly reached up and ran his hand over the bulbous eyebrows.

He didn't know what he'd done to deserve such a good friend but knew at that moment that he was unaccountably blessed with something monumentally unique.

"You're a good friend, Greeneyes. I thank you for everything. I have to try to make Sereh see. I have to try – you understand don't you?"

"I do. I'll help if I can, but I think it's impossible."

"Thanks for your honesty". With that, Erann leant his full weight against Greeneyes head and rested there a moment. His friend filled him with a strength that he didn't currently feel for himself. He needed that right now.

* * *

She found him leaning against nothing and she shook her head in annoyance and disgust. What was going on?

He looked peaceful and calm, but he wouldn't be for much longer. She marched up to him her footfalls loud in the stillness of the day. He either didn't hear her or chose not to.

She stopped abruptly, taken in by the sheer beauty of his face, by the slant of sunlight across his face, highlighting his perfect nose and jaw. She shook her head again, angry with herself. How quickly she became distracted.

She'd have her answers now. She opened her mouth to speak and shut it again just as quickly.

"I know Sereh. I know what you want. Give me a day or two. A bit longer to heal for both of us. You'll have your answers – I promise."

Erann spoke softly and insistently. His voice was rough with emotion. Sereh's arguments died unspoken. She'd give him the time he needed. How could she refuse when she needed him so much, and he'd saved her life?

"We need to leave here, together, all of us, and we need to make a small journey. Will you go with me Sereh, please?"

His jade eyes were open now and pleaded. Her heart melted, again. She needed all this to be resolved just as much as he did.

"Yes, I'll follow you Erann," her voice broke, "for two more days. That's all you have." She wondered why she'd added the time restraint. She'd not meant to; it hadn't been intentional. And then she realised. She was hoping, hoping all this would somehow be resolved and she couldn't let herself hope for too long. She owed herself more than that.

Chapter 11 - Truth

Erann was pushing onwards, taking her somewhere that he felt she needed to go. It was hard going, and she was more than a little scared. Her accident and day of exposure down the crevasse had wiped much of her energy and her bare few days of recovery were not enough to make her feel whole and well again. It had been an unpleasant reminder of just how miraculous her survival had been that first night when she'd escaped from Rankil.

She was amazed at Erann's stamina. He'd been ill and unmoving for a full week only two days ago. Somehow he had the energy practically to fly over the snow, with barely a limp.

She appreciated his intense pace, desperate for her to understand what had been happening since they'd first met. Whatever the truth, it was something that only a few days ago he'd announced he couldn't tell her. That "It was not his secret to tell". His stubbornness had inadvertently led to her accident, and she was angry with him about it. Why would he tell her only now, after she'd so nearly died?

She stumbled and fell elbow deep in snow that was no longer soft and fluffy but wet and sludgy. She cried out in frustration, and Arrow ran to her side. The wolf had been walking in the middle ground between herself and Erann, and Sereh had the sneaking suspicion that the wolf was on Erann's side.

As she caught her breath, she ran her hands through Arrow's shaggy black and white coat. It was at the in-between stage of changing from her Long Night to her Long Day coat, so that as she stroked handfuls of fur came free and Sereh released them to blow away in the gentle breeze.

Erann was many steps in front, and Sereh noticed him stop and begin to walk back towards her. She held her hand up and shook her head to let him know he didn't need to come back and help her. She lurched forwards as Arrow battered her hand with her nose in a show of support.

She glanced about her. The day was glorious, the sun beating down on the melting landscape so that she could finally believe that the Long Night had ended and the crops might now stand a chance of first being harvested and then being re-sown before the Long Night returned.

They were still on Vatna Jokull, and Sereh was convinced that they were only retracing their steps from the first few days of their journey together. She was tired, confused, angry and hungry.

She was only following Erann because she felt she owed him a second chance after he'd saved her life. Other than that she felt no compunction to be here.

Who was she kidding?

Yes, she'd nowhere else to go, but that reasoning was not enough to warrant her continued following of him. She knew that most of the reason was that she'd fallen in love with him. When he'd said it to her, on the day that she'd left him, she'd been too angry for it to register. Since then she'd thought of little else. It made sense; it made her feel right.

She hadn't told him that.

He didn't know that she reciprocated his feelings and she wasn't inclined to let him know now either. She'd hold it close to her chest in the hope that he'd manage to win her trust as well as her love. She wasn't holding her breath.

She had so many questions, and he was not answering any of them. Emma was just gone. He'd just known where to find her. He'd just healed from a terrible broken leg in a bare seven days. He just knew that where they were going would answer her questions and win back her trust. She was unconvinced but could admit to herself that she wanted to be convinced, desperately.

She wanted to believe that her feelings for him were well grounded and tenable and didn't want to consider, seriously, losing him and the hope he presented, again.

Those days alone, when she'd walked out and left had been the loneliest and most depressing of her entire life. Even living with Rankil had been better.

To feel the blossoming of hope and love and friendship and to have it all snatched away, especially by your bloody mindedness, had nearly drowned her in grief. Her accident had been a direct result of her lack of attention and concern for her well being. She'd, almost, welcomed the helplessness she'd felt as she lay freezing slowly to death. She'd known then what it was to abandon all hope; to accept death as inevitable.

She'd been walking, unsure of her direction aware only of three things; the brilliant views which greeted her wherever she looked, a beauty that brought tears to her eyes; her love for Erann, which she'd continually berated herself for and finally the enduring and silent companionship of Arrow who stayed with her, and attempted to keep her safe, albeit it reluctantly. Other than that there'd been nothing more than a slow and continuous trudge through slushy snow and rapidly forming mud as she'd fancied she neared a river.

As she'd refused to rest or eat, so desperate to get away from Erann, she had, she now realised, quickly become dehydrated and weak from hunger. She must have wondered aimlessly and eventually become unaware of her surroundings. She'd tripped then, and fallen down a deep crevasse. She'd landed bruised and torn and unable to move on a ledge at least two lengths down from the safety of the glacier.

Arrow had scampered down after her, crying and alarmed. Sereh had tried to tell her that it was all right and calm her. Arrow hadn't wanted to listen to her. She'd run off to find help, and that help had come in the form of first Arrow, and then Erann. She felt sure that Arrow hadn't initially come back alone but wondered who could have come with Arrow, and why they'd not have been able to help when Erann had been able to?

For all her anger, she was pathetically grateful that Erann had come to her rescue. He'd been efficient in seeing to her needs and getting her to safety. However, she was aware that he'd found time to comfort her and had held her close, as she'd slept.

She didn't want to ask now for more details. She had to focus on the mind-numbing tiredness that was almost crippling her. Only her anger at him was keeping her going. Anger and hope. She hoped he'd win her trust and then she could allow herself to love him, mind, body and soul. She was trying to keep a lid on her hope. She feared it was misplaced and needed to know in her mind that she'd be able to walk away from him when her hope proved to be ill-founded.

She'd silently made that decision in her mind. She knew she had the will to follow through. That was why she'd made the decision already. She would not vacillate.

Suddenly, her anger got the better of her, and she shouted to Erann,

"Surely it can't be much further, Erann; I'm exhausted. I need to rest."

She sounded petulant to her ears, and she expected Erann to turn an angry face to her. Instead, he looked at her with contrition on his face – that just made her even more furious with herself.

"Sorry Sereh. I promise it's just over the next small ridge."

It was then that Sereh realised they'd been steadily climbing for some time. No wonder her legs were aching and sweat was pooling down her neck. She bent her resolve to just making it up the ridge and was pleased to note that Erann had stopped ahead. She stomped to his side and looked at him questioningly. Erann was smiling triumphantly. She could see nothing to smile about. There was nothing there. The views were outstanding, admittedly, but there was nothing else.

She expected Erann to say something. By the time she'd caught her breath, he still hadn't spoken, and she could feel herself becoming impatient. He was standing, looking at her expectantly. It reminded her of the time they'd passed near here when he'd stopped, waiting for her to notice something only he could see.

So this was it. This was what it had all come down to. This was Erann's answer to everything they'd been through together. A big nothing.

Arrow came and stood by her, sniffing her hand and then making herself comfortable on the floor. She didn't seem concerned. Neither did she seem worried or realise that any moment now they'd be walking away. Forever this time.

Erann didn't seem aware either, as he stood there, admiring the view behind her head. She bit her lip in concentration. She had no choice; she'd made her decision, and she needed to leave, now.

As she made to move way, she felt herself grabbed, gently but firmly. She wasn't sure what had happened as she felt herself lose her balance only to regain it while being turned around. She could feel strong, gentle arms around her arms as Erann held her. She briefly wondered what he'd do next, as his lips brushed hers in a soft, tender kiss.

Her instincts took over, and she felt herself wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with the force of her anger, betrayal and love. The kiss was amazing – all she'd hoped that kissing him would be.

His mouth was soft and ever so slightly insistent. She couldn't doubt all the love and passion that went into that kiss. He did love her, and she was aware with a deep certainty, that she reciprocated the same feelings.

She never wanted the kiss to end, and only became aware of its duration when she struggled to catch her breath. She staggered back from him slightly – not too far; she never wanted to put any distance between them again.

He apparently felt the same because he pulled her close so that her head rested on his shoulder. He held her there, with his hand caressing her cheek, as he slowly regained his breath. Her eyes were closed, luxuriating in the smell of him, the touch of him and the closeness to him. She decided it no longer mattered. She couldn't leave him. She loved him. She needed him, and he needed her. Anything else was of secondary importance. With her decision made she opened her eyes so that she could look at Erann and declare her feeling for him.

Her head had been resting on his shoulder, and as her eyes opened, she was looking away from him, her head at an angle. She became aware of a diffuse purple light all around her and blinked to clear her vision.

She re-opened her eyes, but the light was still there. She and Erann were standing in it. A pool of purple light that stretched on and on all around them, and from which tiny blue, green and pink sparks were emanating. She wondered what it was, and then realised that this was what Erann had wanted her to see. She smiled to herself.

Erann was to be trusted, and he was to be loved and then she gasped, involuntarily. Her eyes had delighted on the most amazing creature she'd ever seen. At last, everything made sense, and she was safe and loved, in Erann's arms.

Playlist

I have not created my world alone, and some fantastic music has allowed it to grow and develop. I am indebted to the fantastic Faithless for their beautifully haunting music, and down-right floor stompers. Nuff respect!!

Faithless – Outrospective

Code

Evergreen

Liontamer

One Step Too Far

No Roots

Bluegrass

No Roots

Everything Will be Alright Tomorrow

What About Love

To All New Arrivals

Music Matters

Last This Day

To All New Arrivals

A Kind of Peace

The Dance

North Star

Sun to Me

Feeling Good

Not Going Home

Don't Leave

Insomnia

Meet the Author

I'm an author of fantasy (viking age/dragon themed) and historical fiction (Early English, Vikings and the British Isles as a whole before the Norman Conquest), born in the old Mercian kingdom at some point since AD1066. I write A LOT. You've been warned! Find me at mjporterauthor.com and @coloursofunison on twitter. I have a newsletter, which can be joined via my website.

Books by M J Porter (in series reading order)

Gods and Kings Series (seventh century Britain)

Pagan Warrior

Pagan King

Warrior King

The Last King (ninth century England)(coming soon)

The Tenth Century

The Lady of Mercia's Daughter

A Conspiracy of Kings (the sequel to The Lady of Mercia's Daughter)

Kingmaker

The King's Daughter

Chronicles of the English (tenth century Britain)

Brunanburh

Of Kings and Half-Kings

The Second English King

The Mercian Brexit (can be read as a prequel to The First Queen of England)

The First Queen of England (The story of Lady Elfrida) (tenth century England)

The First Queen of England Part 2

The First Queen of England Part 3

The King's Mother (The continuing story of Lady Elfrida)

The Queen Dowager

Once A Queen

The Earls of Mercia

The Earl Of Mercia's Father

The Danish King's Enemy

Swein: The Danish King (side story)

Northman Part 1

Northman Part 2

Cnut: The Conqueror (full length side story)

Wulfstan: An Anglo-Saxon Thegn (side story)

The King's Earl

The Earl of Mercia

The English Earl

The Earl's King

Viking King

The English King (coming soon)

Fantasy

The Dragon of Unison

Hidden Dragon

Dragon Gone

Dragon Alone

Dragon Ally

Dragon Lost

Dragon Bond

Throne of Ash (coming soon)

As JE Porter

The Innkeeper

