T Lain: Plague of Ice

Talk about the impenetrability of this magic made Lidda uneasy, so she changed the subject. “What shall we do about the bridge?”

“What do you mean?” asked Hennet. “Why worry about the bridge?”

“Those orcs we fought were desperate. I don’t think they were here waiting to ambush someone coming across the bridge. The normal bridge traffic won’t be coming through until this situation is resolved.

“I think those orcs were guards,” she continued. “They were here to hold the bridge and protect it from destruction so they could use it. Their homes are being wrecked and their routines disrupted by this cold. I’d bet they’ll try to leave the area, and they’ll cross this bridge to do it. When they do, they’ll pose a danger to Atupal and Klionne. From what I’ve heard, they’re not the only tribe of monsters out here. I say we should cut down the bridge.”

Hennet’s brow furrowed. “Then how will we get across the river on the way back?”

“If it gets warm again, we should be able to find a place to ford the river,” answered Regdar. “If we can trust this thing they call a map, the river’s somewhat narrower to the east.”

Hennet shook his head firmly. “What if we need to leave in a hurry or before the river warms up? As you said, the bridge is barely standing now. If monsters try to use it, the whole thing will probably collapse under their feet. A few less orcs in the world is fine with me.”

“That’s beside the point,” Regdar protested, but he was interrupted by Sonja.

“It’s almost sundown, and while I can probably travel this terrain by night, I trust that isn’t the case for the rest of you. We can worry about the bridge in the morning.”

With a few quick spells, Sonja cleared an area of snow to pitch their tents. She shared a tent with Hennet and Lidda shared with Regdar. As Hennet kept watch outside, Regdar whispered to Lidda, “What do you think of Hennet?”

You don’t want to know what I think, she thought, but all she said was, “What kind of name is Hennet? Sounds like a chicken.”

Regdar chuckled softly. The halfling whispered, “What do you think of Sonja?”

The fighter thought on that. “I don’t know,” he honestly said. She had healed his leg by running her palm over the wound, and she did it with the powers of nature, not the clerical magic he was more familiar with. It felt different; more organic, more personal. The contrast intrigued him, and so did Sonja.

The temperature dropped considerably overnight. In the morning, as they dismantled their camp, Lidda repeated her concerns about the bridge, seconded by Regdar. Only they favored destroying it, and with the vote split two and two, the bridge was allowed to stand.

“I make it about two days to the forest,” Hennet announced after studying his map for a few minutes. “That’s assuming we can keep moving as if this were summer… which, of course, it is.” He paused for laughs that didn’t come then pointed into the distance. “It’s somewhere in this direction. And that’s about all the information we’re going to get from these maps. We can probably throw them away once we actually start moving.”

“We might need them on the way back,” Sonja reminded him.

“Yes,” he allowed, “the way back. We certainly will want to be able to find our way back to Atupal and Klionne with the head of the dragon in tow so we can collect our rewards and be feted as heroes.”

“Dragon!” shouted Lidda and Regdar in synch. “What dragon?”

“Oh,” Sonja’s face turned dour. “You hadn’t heard?”

“Word must not have gotten to Klionne before you left,” Hennet said. “The day before we set out, a traveler came into Atupal saying he’d passed through a little hamlet called Litkil, north of the city. He found it empty, all the people dead—frozen, as if by a white dragon’s breath. The hamlet was outside the cold zone at the time. The treasury and the local shrines were ransacked but the houses were otherwise undisturbed.”

“You think a white dragon is causing this?” asked Regdar. “All this is about a dragon building a hoard?”

Hennet nodded. “It looks that way.”

“The real question,” Sonja said, “is where it came from. It’s not likely that the dragon and the cold are a coincidence. White dragons don’t come this far south. Mind you, neither do ice druids.”

“A dragon,” Lidda repeated. Monsters were plentiful, but a dragon

… the mythic weight behind the word made her tremble in excitement and fear.

“Well, the sooner we get underway, the sooner we can slay it. This way.” Hennet pointed toward the north and took one step before Regdar stopped him.

“It’s not that way,” Regdar corrected. “If I read the maps right, it’s more… that way.” He pointed slightly to the left of Hennet’s direction.

“Oh, is it?” Hennet replied, suddenly belligerent. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but maybe before we go much farther we should choose a leader. In case squabbles like this break out, we should have somebody to solve them.” He cast Regdar a sideways glance. “We ought not waste our efforts fighting each other.”

“Right,” Regdar answered. “Who shall it be? Atupal or Klionne?”

“Boys, boys,” Lidda interjected. “If you’re not too busy measuring your swords, let me suggest a solution. Let’s make the leader the person who’s most at home in this landscape, who has the most experience with snow, and who I’m guessing knows more about white dragons than anyone else here.”

All eyes turned to Sonja, who beamed with a mix of modesty and pride. She pointed directly between Regdar and Hennet’s points.

“This way,” she said. That way they went.

It was several hours later when they first saw the dragon. It was hard to spot at first, because the wind had picked up and snow was shifting and blowing across the landscape. The movement caught Lidda’s eye. It was little more than a white dot against the blue sky in the distance, but it was approaching fast. Immediately Sonja chanted a few exotic syllables, and the party felt magic enfold them.

“What have you done to us?” asked Regdar, holding up his hand to look at it. His skin and clothes were completely white so that he could barely be seen against the snowy background. He saw that the others were similarly changed. He could see them because of the textures of their clothing and their sharp outlines and because they were silhouetted against the horizon, but from overhead or with a white background they would be nearly invisible. Sonja shushed Regdar, and the four of them watched as the dragon turned in a wide circle then grew smaller in the distance.

Lidda ran her hand through her supplies, making sure she still had the potion of flight she’d picked up last month in the great city of Vasaria. It was an extravagant purchase, one she hadn’t told Regdar about. She bought it for personal use, but now that a dragon was involved she decided to keep it closer at hand, in her vest pocket.

“I’ve never seen this spell before,” said Regdar, inspecting his stark white shoulder closely.

“I call it snow shield,” the druid answered. “My parents developed it. Helps you disappear when a predator’s approaching. Dragons have exceptionally good eyes. We’re lucky it hadn’t seen us already. Or, for that matter,” she looked back behind them, “our tracks.” Their footprints were only partially concealed by the blowing snow.

“A nice spell, but Sonja, why did you cast it?” complained Hennet. “Now the dragon’s flying away and who knows when it might come back? With luck, I might still be able to get its attention. If we bring it close, we can finish it here and now. I could use this fireball wand, or you could use that new lightning trick of yours. I’ve been dying to see that.”