'I can't feel my feet,' Jack said.
'Just a little while longer. They'll move away soon when they realise they can't find us.' Hunter tried to sound reassuring, but he knew if they stayed in the crevice much longer they'd freeze to death; and they wouldn't stand a chance if they ventured out amongst the hunting creatures. Beyond that, the tracks back to the rest of the group would probably have been lost.
Jack's lips were already turning blue, and the familiar signs of hypothermia were evident in his skin and breathing. Hunter pulled the boy close to him and wrapped his arms around him. 'Forget the whole 'men don't hug' thing,' he said. 'This is about staying warm. We'll be fine. We'll be out of here in no time.'
3
The Court of the Soaring Spirit felt empty without Mallory, Caitlin and the others. Decebalus stood outside Doctor Jay's lab for long minutes, mulling over his new role as leader of the Army of Dragons, happy to accept the responsibility, although missing the camaraderie of his friends. He barely spared a thought for the gently pulsing light and the noise grinding out from the sealed room. The Caraprix were not a threat, he had decided, and so they were an irrelevance.
Weighing his strategy carefully, he sought out the sorcerer Math in his shadowy rooms.
'I have never met a sorcerer who has not deserved to be hacked into bloody chunks,' the barbarian said as he watched the slowly turning mask. 'You will be happy to know that in this matter I have learned some restraint from my good friends. But only some. So hear me out.'
The mask turned. Math said nothing.
'The Enemy approaches. My forces are strong, but a good general always keeps something in reserve. I need… something. Possibly magickal. And I want it to be a response that will take their breath away to such a degree they will never return.'
Math contemplated for a moment, and then said, 'How far do you intend to go?'
Decebalus grinned.
4
'Should we go after Hunter?' Ruth ventured.
'There's no point doing anything until this blizzard lifts,' Church replied. 'We could be stamping around in circles and getting nowhere.'
Laura's face was emotionless. 'He'll be fine. He's tougher than you bunch of wimps.' She turned away from them quickly.
Shavi suddenly became animated, involuntarily clutching at his alien eye.
'What's wrong?' Veitch asked.
'Hurry! We must leave this place immediately!' Shavi said urgently. 'Something is coming!'
Church peered into the blizzard as faint tremors ran through the ground, growing stronger. 'Okay, let's move on.'
'What about Hunter?' Laura snapped. 'If we leave here, he'll never find us.'
'He'll find us. He's good.'
Tom grabbed Church's arm as they struggled up the slope. 'I don't like this. There have always been terrible things in this place.' The words died in his throat as one of the beasts emerged from the snow behind them. Inky black, at first glance it resembled a giant spider, rising up above them on long, sharp legs that looked as if they were made of iron. It wavered for a second so they felt they were under the scrutiny of a cold, alien intellect, and then it began to change. Armoured plates resembling an insect's carapace unfolded out of the black body and locked into place. Spikes and a horned ridge emerged, along with other razor-sharp appendages.
'Bloody hell!' Veitch gasped. 'Fomorii!'
The others scrambled up the incline as fast as they could, but Miller continued to gape. Veitch hit him like a runaway train and propelled him away. 'Stand still, you're dead,' Veitch hissed. 'They're killing machines.'
The way became much steeper, littered with outcropping rocks and huge boulders that made it difficult to advance. Behind them, the Fomor raced only feet away. Breath burned in their lungs as they wound around the obstacles.
Echoing through the howling gale came the sounds of more Fomorii joining the pursuit, a haunting, deep call and response that became more frenzied, as though the creatures recognised their prey.
They came up hard against a cliff rising high over their heads. A path wound around the foot of it, barely wide enough for one person, with the ground plummeting away steeply.
As Veitch and Miller passed the last boulder before the path began, they caught a glimpse of someone crouching out of sight. When the Fomor pounded up behind them, Church jumped out at the last and swung Caledfwlch in an arc, a trail of Blue Fire sizzling through the snow. Sparks flew as the blade hacked into one of the creature's front legs. As the creature half-rounded on Church, it lost its balance. With a roar, Church rammed into it with the sword, bracing against the boulder and levering it onto the slippery, snow-covered slope. The Fomor hovered for a second and then went crashing down until it was lost in the swirling snow.
'Nice one, mate!' Veitch called as Church caught up with the group.
'Let's not start cheering yet,' Church shouted back. 'The others are coming up fast behind.'
With the wind lashing them, they pressed their backs against the cliff face and edged around the path. 'We're still going in the right direction,' Tom said, 'as long as we don't fall to our doom. This path, in such a deserted landscape, is here for a reason.'
'What are they?' Miller asked again, struggling to cope with the terror surging through his system.
'Race enemies of those golden-skinned bastards.' The flickering black flames of Veitch's sword were a stark contrast to the snow. 'We fought them before. Beat 'em, too, at the Battle of London.'
Miller glanced back and almost lost his balance. 'It changed shape.'
'They do that a lot.' Veitch looked to Church. 'You think there's just a handful of 'em?'
'All of them disappeared after the Battle of London. What if they came here, to lick their wounds?' Church paused. 'What if this is the Void's secret army, just like we have the Army of Dragons and the gods?'
'You stopped them once, right?' Miller said hopefully. 'You can do it again.'
Looking out into the blizzard, Veitch had the odd sensation of a sea of white in which they could float.
'They're coming!' Church said. 'Let's move this along!'
Behind them, the call of the Fomorii echoed off the cliff-side; it contained a note of jubilance, perhaps that their old enemies were finally in their grasp, and it was followed by a metallic grinding that set their teeth on edge — the beasts' limbs dragging on the rock-face.
From the rear, Church urged them to move faster, but the path soon became more precarious as it crawled up and around the lower stage of the mountain they knew was hidden above their heads in the blizzard. As they rounded a bluff, they became more sheltered from the buffeting gale and visibility improved. They could see the path dropping down towards a horseshoe-shaped area enclosed by the towering rock. A single, twisted, ancient hawthorn stood in the centre.
'Bleedin' great,' Veitch said. 'No way out. We can't go back. You old bastard — you've led us to the perfect place for a slaughter.'
'Shut up!' Tom snapped. He examined his ring and Church could see from his face that he feared Freyja had planned this all along.
The hunting cries of the Fomorii rang out through the blizzard, ten joining twenty, more each second, echoing from out across the Great Plain as they converged on the mountains.
'You know what — I'm starting to think you're right,' Veitch said. 'All the Fomorii are here in Winter-side. We're screwed.'
After they'd skidded down the path into the horseshoe-shaped area, Church and Veitch moved quickly around
