The next morning--now fully rested--Garran explained what he’d seen in his vision over a full spread of various breakfast items. As with the table the night before, Belvedere--whatever he was--had prepared a table full of assorted meats, vegetables, and prepared meals. There were salted meats, bacon, eggs, quiches, and sweet rolls piled high on plates. As for beverages, there was anything ranging from orange juice to coconut milk as well as a carafe of white wine and a flagon of strong cider ale for Barnabas.

His normal boasting nature gentled down by the weight of the situation, Barnabas sat listening in uncharacteristic silence while he munched on a cusp of hay, some mint sprigs, and a tin can. Teya, too, sat quietly while she chewed on salted meat and eggs, keeping her eyes locked on Garran’s with rapt attention as he described the scene which had unfolded before him.

When, at last, the wolfkin was done detailing the account, she brushed a stray tear from her right eye--the glacier-blue one--with the back of her paw and muttered, “Well, I suppose that explains why I couldn't get back to my plane. I wonder how many more of us are stuck here…” her voice trailed off at the question.

“How many Bastions are there?” Garran asked as delicately as he could. He hated bringing it up when the wound was still raw for his companion, but the question was stark on his mind; burning within him.

There had been twelve or so in the room that Aegis had just… dispersed? Evaporated?

“The word’s ‘disintegrated’,” Barnabas cut in helpfully. “It’s a term I use that means ‘decaying or diluting on impact’. And there are thousands of Bastions. Or were… I ‘spect there are far less now. But each Bastion was created in Aegis’ image, which explains the lion-wolf thing. That’s likely not common knowledge, however. First reason is, most go their whole lives without seein’ a Bastion. Those that do see them, only see things their minds understand. Which is why your heterochromatic friend here showed up as a dog. Hey, come ta’ think of it… did the two colored eyes come as a piece for Garran’s benefit, or is that something within you?”

Seeing the blank stares on the two wolf-like visages, he continued, “There’s nothin’ can be done about Aegis just now, though. What can lowly mortals do? Best we find them orcs that stole yer friend so you can stop eating my food and sleeping in my house. I hope you have something of theirs for the scrying...”

Garran contemplated this for a moment, then a thought occurred to him. He walked over to his pack where he’d taken his weapons and armor off the night before and picked up the battleaxe he had gotten from Big Ugly. Twisting it in his hand, he padded back over to the table and held the heavy weapon out to the goatman, blade-first.

“What? Couldn't have gotten anything smaller? That’ll take up my whole table…” the ibexian grumbled.

Garran narrowed his eyes and was about to say something unsavory when Barnabas bleated, “Fine! Fine! I suppose this will do…Belvedere, take this to the scryin’ table, will you?”

The weapon lifted magically from Garran’s clawed hand and floated over to a small, round table in the corner of the room. It landed softly on top of a map intricately drawn on animal hide.

“Was that table there before?” Garran inquired with furrowed brows.

“Baahhh,” Barnabas bleated. “Never gets old. Belvedere always knows what is needed. Never let me down yet!”

The ibexian sauntered over and pulled a golden necklace from his shaggy coat pocket. The chain itself was made of precious metals, and affixed to a filament at the end was a crystalline-shaped purple gemstone. Reciting some words Garran did not recognize, Barnabas swung the stone by the chain as he chanted. The purple crystal swung in a wide circle at first, but as the chanting continued, it began to shrink its orbit around the map until it stopped moving completely. The necklace then sprung from the wizard’s hand as if it were alive, and stuck straight up like a fencepost on a point on the map.

“Hmm, that’s curious,” Barnabas said with a puzzled look on his caprine face. “Apparently there’s a large group of them several miles north of here. Near the Summit.”

“The Summit?” Teya said, glancing up quickly. “Perhaps you were right, Steward. They may have your friend after all.”

‘Bring me the Bastion--the she-wolf--to the Summit and I will exchange her for your worthless friend.’ the disembodied voice rang in Garran’s head again.

Thanks for the reminder, he thought sardonically.

Glancing up, he met Barnabas’ wide, horizontal eyes. The old goat let his knowing glance linger briefly before continuing, “Yep, indeed. There’s a whole camp there. Dunno if they got yer friend, er not, but they’re definitely there, alright.”

The wolfkin snatched the broken arrow he’d found in the cave from his pack and slapped it on the round table, “Can you do the spell again?” he said, more a demand than a request.

The goatman, for reasons unknown to Garran, decided to forego snark and repartee for once and removed the axe from the table. Then without any further comment, began chanting once more over the arrow shaft this time. After a few moments, the purple stone, as before, snapped to attention in the exact same spot on the map.

Garran’s ears set low and he pressed his lips into a fine line; his mind a mixture of relief and retribution. He had been searching for his friend for days and now, for the first time since Sius left the camp, Garran had a good idea of where to find him. He looked at Teya with a grim determination and said, “Let’s go.”

The she-wolf nodded without hesitation and turned towards the door, but Barnabas interjected, “Wait! What part of ‘a whole camp’ is not gettin’ through yer thick lupine skull? You’ll never get in there and out with just the two o’ ya.”

The wolfkin already had his pack and shield on his back, his mace on his belt and the battleaxe in his hand, and was headed towards the magical door, “We’re not going in with just the two of us,” he said, not turning around.

“Bahhh!” the ibexian bleated again. “Well, surely you don’t think I’m getting involved in this! The orcs are your problem! What do you expect we’ll be able to do?”

Garran did stop this time, now at the door, “Not we,” he replied. “Me. I’m going in there. Alone.”

“What??” Teya blurted out, nearly running into Garran when he’d stopped abruptly. “No, I’m going too.”

The Steward looked directly at the black and white wolf and said simply, “I have a plan.”

Some time later, after a little protest from Barnabas and a lot of protest from Teya, the two lupine companions were on their way northward again. The terrain was greatly altered from both the avalanche and the snow that had fallen in the night. The few trees that managed to root in this high atmosphere were now buried midway up their trunks.

The two of them adeptly maneuvered the massive snowmounds; their wide, padded feet keeping them from sinking too deep into the cold snow. Off in the distance, Garran could hear thunder; there was another storm brewing. What did Barnabas say about me bringing the storms with me? What does that even mean?

They traveled for some time in silence; Teya, in the lead, pausing now and then to spot the most navigable path northward. Garran stepped carefully in the indentions she left in the snow; his thoughts whipping through his head like wind through the Icy Peaks. The orcs… Sius… the voice…

He must have let out a sigh because Teya stopped and turned to face him, “We’ll figure it out,” she comforted in that uncanny way she had of reading his mind.

“I need to tell you something,” he blurted.

Sucking in a slow breath, the great wolf sat down on her haunches and looked up at him, “I know,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’ve been brooding since the cave.”

Garran grimaced slightly, then continued, “In my dream, someone--or some thing--came to me and told me they had Sius at the Summit.”

Cocking her head to the side, she replied, “That explains how you knew to go north, but why does that bother you so?”

“Because whatever--or whoever--that was knows what you are and that you are with me. It told me to bring you to the Summit and it would trade Sius’ life for yours,” he said. “I wasn’t going to though...” he added quickly, scratching behind his right ear. “To trade you, I mean. I was never going to let them take you. It’s likely it’s a trap anyway. I just wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

The great wolf sat for a brief moment then stood on her hind legs and wrapped her front paws around Garran’s shoulders. Not expecting the gesture, Garran nearly toppled backwards into the tall snow, but pushed his weight forward to account for her weight.

She peered into his silver eyes, right to his soul, “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for telling me.” And before he could respond, she quickly licked his hairy cheek with a kiss and hopped down, returning to their journey.

They traveled on until the stars began to peek through the inky blue sky. The moon--now nearly full--pulled closed the curtains of day and draped the mountains in celestial darkness. The rolling clouds covered the moon and stars, temporarily causing them to nictate like tiny winking eyes in the distance.

They quickly made camp at the bottom of a rocky dropoff with a large spruce tucked neatly by the cliff. Together, they built a small fire between the tree and the rock to help keep them warm through the night. Garran agreed to keep watch first to make sure nothing--or no one--snuck up on them while they slept.

The next morning, the two took great care to cover any evidence of their camp, then continued on their northward journey. After a few hours of idle chat as they traveled, the air had now become so thin, they ceased their talking to conserve their oxygen. It was eery up here, Garran noted. No foliage. No life. Just the wind whistling and whipping their ears. Adding to the alien-like atmosphere, the clouds in the sky seemed almost so close he could reach out and grasp them. He had lived in the Icy Peaks all his life, but never ventured this far north. Or this far from home, he thought bleakly.

‘Come on, brokta. Where’s your sense of adventure? There’s a whole world beyond the village that needs to be explored,’ he could hear Sius saying to him.

“I explore more for the isolation and solace than the adventure. You--” he caught himself when he realized he was speaking out loud. Thankfully--or graciously--Teya didn’t seem to notice and continued walking in front of him.

They slowed their pace when the terrain began to level out somewhat. The snow had calmed for the moment but the wind was still frigid, grasping them with its icy talons. They came to the cusp of a steep incline right at the edge of a long, flat plateau covered in a blanket of ice and snow.

There were a few crops of spruce and birch trees peppering the area before them. The flat earth, though frozen, still able to provide at least some nutritional value for flora to grow here. Reaching up, Garran placed a hand on one of the fronds of pine needles, when he noticed something peculiar.

There was a mark scratched in the trunk of the tree: a symbol. An orcish symbol. They were definitely going the right way. It was then, Garran heard voices coming from just ahead in the clearing. They were speaking loudly, but in a language Garran did not speak.

Thinking quickly, the two companions dove behind the large tree and ducked down. Scarcely breathing, they waited in tense silence for the group to pass. As Garran had suspected, it was an orcish patrol and the symbol on the tree was likely for scouting purposes. He had seen Sius do this on numerous occasions while he was out hunting with him. His friend always called it “scratching a tree” since it typically consisted of etching something into the bark with a knife.

Garran let out a sigh as he waited for the group to pass by again. He had sent Teya to duck behind another group of trees off to the east. She wasn’t too far, but far enough that if he got spotted, she should be able to get away. He stayed crouched behind the spruce as the orcs made two more circuits to make sure there weren’t more of them.

This will either go badly, or not quite as badly, he thought to himself.

He could hear the orcs coming down the now well-trodden snow. There were three of them. All clad in fur-lined chainmail. The first few circuits were quick paced, and took about five minutes before they circled back around, but now they were getting tired and the circuits were taking longer.

He would have to do this skillfully, or they would attempt to kill him on sight. He could take on one or two orcs maybe, but not three. And these green-skinned menaces had decent armor and forged weapons.

Careful to keep his left side facing the oncomers, he peeked tentatively out to check their position. He hoped his white leather would blend in with the snow banks behind the tree and his black fur would mimic that of the waving shadows of the wind-blown pine needles.

'I told you your gear was too austentatious', he could hear Sius goading him.

“Says the wolfkin that stands back and flings arrows at enemies? How long do you think I could hide from my enemies with a melee weapon anyway?” he replied aloud.

Frick, when did my internal voice become external? he chided himself.

The patrol stopped in their tracks at the sound of his voice, just short of Teya’s hiding spot. He could see the wolf’s eyes, wide and staring right at him from behind the tree trunk.

Yep, she definitely heard me that time, he rolled his eyes at his own blunder.

They’d gone over the plan several times; none of which included him getting them caught because he was starting to lose his sanity.

The first part of the plan had been simple. They needed to find the camp, and to find it, they needed scouts to show them the way. The second part of the plan was much more complicated, and likely doomed to failure, but it was all he had.

Teya had not been keen on the idea at first, thinking it reckless and foolhardy, but in the end she gave in and agreed to go along with it. With Barnabas’ and Belvedere’s help, Garran had fashioned a pack for Teya to slip over her head and allow her to carry a few provisions while they were separated.

Mind racing, Garran quickly weighed his options. Then, as silently as he could, he slipped the bow from his back and lay it down in the snow. As slowly and meticulously, he began to kick snow over it to cover it from view. Hopefully, they will not investigate this spot.

The group of orcs was now looking around for the source of the voice they had clearly heard. One of them pointed to the ground, and to Garran’s horror, he could see a stray footprint left by Teya while heading to her hiding spot. Realizing the same thing, she looked on in wide-eyed silence, waiting for instruction. He motioned for her to stay put and mouthed a single word to her, then took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the safety of the tree.