If Angus and Gretchen had been less fine, Ugruk’s death might have crushed them. They might have yielded tamely to the forces of disaster closing in on every side. As it was, his bravery inspired them to new strength.
Standing arm in arm at the cabin threshold, they looked out into the white distance. As far as eye could reach, the land lay prostrate under the lash of winter. There was no refuge, no hope, but only the trackless snow, the pallid clouds of ice-dust streaming by, the solitude and the silence. Over his domain rode the Erlking of the North—the clutching, fatal cold.
“It’s waiting for us, and it means to get us,” Angus murmured. “Every gateway is closed—our sentence is signed and sealed. Gretchen, shall we give up?”
“Give up?” The girl’s shoulders straightened. “Not while the
