The wind howled as it whipped around the foothills, picked up snow, and swirled it around. It blocked out the stars above, though not quite the moon, which was just a glowing blur in the field of white. It was a cold night. Even Jorvanultumn felt the chill, so it was a good thing the humans were not here.

Sinitïa had not liked that. She wanted to be there, and Jorvanultumn fully understood. At first, he had been willing to let her come along, but Mikranasta had been adamant that it was too dangerous. Jorvanultumn had agreed. They had no idea what sort of opposition they would be facing, and he would never forgive himself if they saved Meleng, only for Meleng to find out that Sinitïa had died in the process.

Thankfully, Gen had understood and agreed to take Sinitïa back to the visitors’ lodges and watch over her with Miana Ting and the rest of his crew. Gen had also successfully talked Sinitïa down and into reluctantly agreeing.

“Bring him to me as fast as you can,” were Sinitïa’s last words to Jorvanultumn.

Jorvanultumn reached up and kissed her on the cheek. “I will. I promise.”

He just hoped he could keep that promise. As Mikranasta had pointed out, there was no guarantee Meleng would be at the place Itra took them to. His kidnappers might have moved him. It could have been a precaution in case Itra was discovered, or it could have been for some other reason. Perhaps because Meleng’s abductors knew they were coming. Whoever had controlled Itra—Paydamat or otherwise—would surely learn soon, if they had not already, that he had been freed from that control.

Jorvanultumn could not get the idea that this had been too easy out of his mind. What if they were walking into a trap?

“Do you find anything...unsettling about this?” he asked his diare.

Their small group was making its way along the road east of Chithishtheny. Itra was in the lead with Mikranasta beside him. Jorvanultumn and Davorultumn were a short distance behind them. With luck, Fevionawishtensen and some Hgirh would join them soon. They had sent a message, but Mikranasta had added the provision that they had to get here without letting Paydamat or the rest of the Lamdritta know. They could not take any chances that Paydamat was involved. This would likely slow Fevionawishtensen down and severely limit the number of Hgirh she could bring with her.

“Of course it’s unsettling,” Davorultumn said. “We’re about to face members of the Pundritta. I can’t think of anything more unsettling than that.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” Davorultumn asked.

Jorvanultumn shook his head and sighed. “The way we got this information. It seems too easy. You and your diare have searched for these people your whole life without finding them.”

Davorultumn nodded. “Yes, I have, but times are changing. They’ve finally shown themselves. I only wish my diare could be here right now. He’s waited so long for this. At any rate, I understand your misgivings, Jorvanultumn, and we should be prepared for any situation, including that we might be walking into a trap. Mikranasta has considered that possibility as well. Just stay alert.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “You’re right, of course.” He did not feel any better.

After a few more minutes of walking, a new draught blew against the prevailing winds as Fevionawishtensen flew overhead at high speed. She spun in mid-air in front of Mikranasta and Itra, her wings catching the air and bringing her to a near-instant stop as she landed. Jorvanultumn smiled. There were very few who could fly with as much skill and precision as Fevionawishtensen.

Two other Hgirh flew overhead, making wider turns before coming in to land by Fevionawishtensen.

“Good timing. Our destination is just over the next hill.” Mikranasta motioned to Jorvanultumn and Davorultumn to hurry up. “We should proceed with caution. According to Itra, there is a copse of szadane and szadenee ahead, and within the copse, a cave entrance that leads to an underground base. Be ready to defend yourselves if necessary. Avoid killing, if possible. Remember, we need to question these people. Fevionawishtensen, I leave it to you to lead us.”

Fevionawishtensen motioned to the two Hgirh to move so that everyone could see her sign. Keep in mind, everyone, that we do not know what opposition we will face, if any, though there is probably a mentalist. So be alert at all times and do not take any unnecessary risks. The Hgirh will go first. I will fly over top. You—she pointed to one of the other two—will take the left. Then to the remaining one, You, the right. The rest of you will follow behind us on the trail. Jorvanultumn, Davorultumn, deal with these winds if we encounter resistance before we reach the cave, but not before. I want to maintain surprise if we can. Mikranasta, we will rely on you to counter whatever manipulations the mentalist attempts against us. Itra. She paused and smiled at Itra, who was trembling beside Mikranasta. Stay here, out of sight. It is too dangerous for you to come with us any farther.

Itra just stared at her. Mikranasta leaned over and whispered to him—probably a translation, Jorvanultumn suspected—and he nodded.

Fevionawishtensen nodded to the other two Hgirh, then signed to the rest of them, Wait a few seconds before following. She turned around, spread her wings, and leapt into the air. The two other Hgirh followed, fanning out to the left and right.

Jorvanultumn flexed his wings. There was still a slight pain, but he ignored it. If ever there was a time for him to use his wings, consequences be damned, it was now.

Over the hill and in the next valley was the copse. The wind was still throwing loose snow about in a frenzy. Even though the szadane and many of the szadenee were shorter than Fevionawishtensen, she was barely visible standing in the centre of the copse, and the snow was getting worse. There was no sign of the other two Hgirh and Fevionawishtensen soon vanished from sight. Even Mikranasta, just ahead of Jorvanultumn, disappeared into the swirling snow.

“Something’s not right,” Davorultumn said.

Before Jorvanultumn could reply, the snow pulled together into funnels that shot at him and Davorultumn, forming into massive snowballs in front of them that paused in the air. It took a moment for Jorvanultumn to realise it was Davorultumn who had transformed the funnels.

“Too slow, Jorvanultumn,” Davorultumn said.

Damn, he was slow.

There was still a lot of snow in the air, although it was possible to see the others again as Davorultumn added more to the giant snowballs. Jorvanultumn reached out to the remaining snow to assist, but the ground pulled out from under him. The world flipped round as he landed on his back. His wings—especially the injured one—cried out in protest.

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Davorultumn flew overhead, the snowballs spinning around him.

Jorvanultumn sat up. Ahead, the plants in the copse were bending and stretching. Fevionawishtensen moved about them, sword flashing. She leapt over them, wings spread wide. Her sword cut through branches.

Jorvanultumn blinked. What was he doing? Why was he sitting here watching when he should be helping?

He needed to get up, make use of the snow and wind. Find their attackers and join in the fight. The more he sat here, the more the trees threatened to overwhelm Fevionawishtensen and the Hgirh.

And yet he sat there. Why?

Damn it.

He focused on the techniques Mikranasta had taught him years ago, tried to push out the mental control. He had never been very good at this. Memories of how the Ninifins had controlled him flashed through his head. Shamed him.

The battle raged about him.

Branches threatened to wrap around Fevionawishtensen, but she ran her fingers along them as they approached. They cracked and broke apart. She flew backwards out of the reach of the next szadene that bent towards her. Its white flowers shot out, surrounding her like a cloud. She flew straight up and they followed.

No! He had to break this control. He had to stop just watching!

Fevionawishtensen flipped over in the air. Her sword cut through several of the flowers still trying to surround her. With her other hand, she reached out and disintegrated one flower after the next.

Jorvanultumn closed his eyes. He needed to cut out as many sensations as possible in order to break the control. Except…

They did not close. Try as he might, they kept opening back up again. He could blink, but his eyelids would not stay closed, not even his inner ones.

Off to the side, Davorultumn directed howling winds around him towards an Isyar Jorvanultumn did not recognise—presumably one of their assailants, an elementalist most likely. There had to be more though, enough to keep all of them busy: a mentalist affecting him; an enchanter manipulating the copse—probably with preset triggers.

If Jorvanultumn could locate his attacker… He could move his head, though only a little. Enough to see what was ahead of him and a bit to each side. Behind him then. That was where his attacker was.

He needed to make a concerted effort. He still could not close his eyes, so he decided to ignore that tactic. He just needed to focus.

His leg moved. Just enough to raise his knee and place his foot flat on the ground. It would move no farther—not until it moved right back where it started, as pain shot through his head.

Then his mind cleared and he could move again.

We really need to do some work together before you leave, Mikranasta said.

Jorvanultumn bounded to his feet. Where have you been?

No time. I’ll take care of the mentalist. There’s a conjuror here somewhere, too. Find and deal with them.

He pulled wind and snow around him, earth and rock from the frozen ground. He tried to ignore the tempest raging just to his side. He wanted to rush to Fevionawishtensen’s side, but no. She could take care of herself. First, he needed to find this conjuror.

Something grabbed at his mind again, but didn’t gain hold. A cry rang out behind him. He turned around just as a hooded figure vanished into the night. The mentalist. It was dark, but not that dark, so there had to be more at work keeping the figure out of sight.

There was no sign of the conjuror either. Maybe the mentalist was hiding them both.

Vines leapt at Jorvanultumn’s legs. He brought stone down to batter them away. He kept the wind swirling around him to block anything else he might not see.

Metal balls like the ones Chiansamorkin had used flew at him from his right. He used the winds—drawing more from the tempest behind him—to blow them aside. Then he pulled up more rock and dirt, and sent it in the direction the balls had come from.

More balls struck his left shoulder and the back of his head. He stumbled. Spinning around, he sent ice and rock in the other direction. He swept his wings and tore up the ground for several yards in front of him. Whoever it was could not be flying—not in the storm Davorultumn and the other elementalist had created.

So where was that conjuror?

Something grabbed his ankles from behind, pulled him back. He fell face first onto the hard ground. Whatever had his ankles dragged them round until he was facing the opposite way. Then they dragged him across the ground.

The rock and ice of the uneven ground battered his chest, chin, and cheeks. It was too difficult to use his arms in this situation. However, his wings were still mobile. He spread them out, then brought them back in. Without a good view of what was pulling him, there was no way to be precise with this. He brought the ground straight up in a wall by his feet.

Pain shot through his feet and legs as he collided with the wall, but he broke free. Ignoring the pain, he jumped to his feet. He brought his arms round in arcs, spread his wings out. The rock wall broke apart. With the winds, he grabbed each piece and threw them in every direction as he spun around.

A thud and groan came from one direction, and Jorvanultumn stopped his spinning to face that direction. A figure, wings outstretched, moved to the right. Jorvanultumn pulled the ground out from under them. The figure stumbled, but flapped their wings. Their features were still obscured, but they could not fly for long in the heavy winds, and Jorvanultumn hoped to take advantage of that.

The figure landed a moment later, and Jorvanultumn pulled the ground up again. The figure fell forward, but beat their wings and sent more of the metal balls flying at him. He blew them aside with wind, and the figure clapped their hands together. Rocks came at Jorvanultumn from both sides, but these he grabbed with his own magical energies and threw them at the conjuror.

Mikranasta! he called. More rocks and metal came at him. The mentalist is still partially hiding the conjuror. Can you do anything about that? There was so much material in the air, he was losing track of the conjuror again.

What? Mikranasta said. That’s not possible. I’ve got...damn! There’s a second mentalist! I’ll try to draw them out.

There was a crash from the direction of the storm. Davorultumn tumbled through the air, landing near the blurred figure. The conjuror punched the air. Vines grabbed Davorultumn’s legs and threw him back at the raging whirlwind. Jorvanultumn tried to bring the earth up around the conjuror, but whoever it was leapt out of the way. They kicked out, and Jorvanultumn’s legs pulled out from under him again. He landed once more on his face, and struggled back to his knees.

Another figure emerged from the maelstrom of wind and snow. Fevionawishtensen! Battered and bruised, she launched herself at the conjuror. Metal balls launched at her. She knocked aside several with her sword. Others slammed into her shoulder, chest, and stomach. But they didn’t slow her down. Her sword connected with the conjuror’s side, and the figure fell over.

She ran over to Jorvanultumn. Are you all right? She held out her hand.

He took her hand and let her help him to his feet. “I’ll be fine.”

She pointed to the storm. Anything you can do to help?

“Maybe? Where are the other Hgirh?”

Fevionawishtensen just pointed at the tempest.

“Ah, right.” The swirling snow and ice made it impossible to see what was happening within. One thing was clear though: the Pundritta elementalist was holding out against Davorultumn and the two Hgirh. Jorvanultumn did not know how powerful the two Hgirh were, but Davorultumn was powerful and experienced.

Jorvanultumn took Fevionawishtensen’s hand and led her to the edge of the storm, pushing against the winds. He reached out to the whirlwind. Just walking through would probably be deadly. He could strip small bits of air from it at a time, but that would take forever to weaken it enough to get through. He needed to pull together material from the surrounding area—enough to make a shield that would last long enough to get through.

He began pulling together stones and bits of rock, but Fevionawishtensen touched his arm. She traced an equation onto it, then pushed him into the whirlwind.

Ice, snow, razor-sharp rocks, and more battered at him, but most bounced off, and he emerged on the other side intact. Of course. Fevionawishtensen had already passed through it before. He should have just trusted her to get him in.

She emerged from the winds and rolled her eyes at him.