--- (Lonely Keep 12th Day of Dark Month)

A tear escaped as tiredness enveloped Rhea. An emptiness found her heart, separation from her twin all the more real now as she hovered near the mound. Her toes wiggled and her boot shifted closer. The chill wind howling, mocking her bravery, unable to step forward and take charge of her own will. What faith did Helice have which allowed her to follow she wondered. Dropping to her knees she crawled forward. The expected bliss of sunshine and forest snatched away as the smell of burnt and smoked ground assaulted her nostrils.

Rhea pleaded, “Why not me?” Her clawing fingers coated in the black soot of the pyre, indisputable proof the way now denied to her.

Elpis lent down and squeezed Rhea’s shoulder, eventually pulling her Seer Sister up to her feet and back from the pyre.

“We are the ones who need to remain behind, they are the ones who must face their own trials. We must see to ourselves now and much of the night remains, while I fear the magic which allows us to see in the dark has left with Helice. We need to find shelter until morning,” said Elpis, her voice raised against the wind.

Rhea shook her head slightly clearing past regret in an effort to return to the present.

“We have shelter, an overturned cart should serve us well,” said Rhea now resigned to her lonely fate.

Rhea and Elpis cleared the furs from the cart and with their remaining strength flipped the cart over ensuring the drop back of the cart faced away from the wind. Regathering the furs, they placed them under the cart on the ground and crawled under themselves. The remaining furs they used to block up the entrance and seal any places where the cold tried to sneak in.

“Clymene, you will need to send a Seer to Farstay as Nysa, Kyra and Otonia will be stranded. Helice has carried Charis into the pyre mound and hasn’t returned. Elpis and I are trying to keep warm, while we await dawn,” sent Rhea.

“Do you need anything? We can try to send it directly to you by forming the Seer Circle.”

“We are warm for now and the mound is high enough so we think the cart won’t be flipped as the wind isn’t able to get under it with any strength and there is some snow fall, so we will eventually be doubly encased.”

---

Between Clymene and Astera they dismissed the use of Shrine’s especially from within Hillperch and the risk of the Temple Guards investigating. The remaining choice being an overland rescue.

Zoe considered Astera’s proposal. “It will be a difficult journey, but not impossible Mistress, Death Season is on the wane now and the snow wolves would have cleared most predators from the path we need to take.”

“I am glad the snow wolves have helped Zoe, but what about the snow wolves attacking you and those with you?” Astera asked.

“We are fit and healthy Mistress and won’t have a wagon to slow us down, it is only the weather we need to be careful of.”

“Will you and Zosime be enough?”

“What about the defence of the cavern Mistress?” asked Zosime.

“I will ask one of the twins to fill your shift, they will be able to do duty from the cavern blind, with Hagne in the more dangerous role of Dark Priest.”

Astera paused a little as a smile swept across her face. “I will have to liberate one from the elder which will be an interesting conversation!”

“Mistress, I would like to take Jocasta with us,” said Zoe.

“She is still a child, are you sure she will cope and won’t be a burden?”

“Yes Mistress, and there is no one else to spare. I, I would like to travel as three if possible.”

“Then yes. Prepare now, for you leave early tomorrow morning. I will talk to Jocasta and see if she accepts your offer.”

--- (The Cleft 13th Day of Dark Month)

Zoe pushed their horses into the softer snow. The wolves in pursuit, flanking either side, their howling beyond random celebration, as the passages of escape discovered by Zoe required effort and tiring of their horses to take advantage of, a hard-fought small victory in the race. The false hope revealed now. Their remaining choices stark; the soft snow or confrontation. Zoe cursed herself under her breath, underestimating the sly intelligence of their hunters.

Dark canine shapes shadowed the fleeing riders, their horses wading through the white snow, sure and certain ground under hoof evading them. The pack dispersed, held to their purpose, unnatural and despite the cold Zoe sweated while a shiver ran up her spine. Several wolves ran behind them maintaining a controlled measured distance. Several wolves ran along as shadows on either side escorting and directing. Zoe couldn’t count their numbers; she suspected several hid when ahead and re-joined when their quarry could witness and add them to the count. Their overall numbers as low as twenty and possibly as high as forty.

Zoe patted her horse’s neck, encouragement for both of them. She drew a deep breath in response to a new chorus of howling, closing her eyes, swallowing as doubt clenched her heart. The soft snow, not only to slow them down to allow one pack to surround, overtake and escort them, the clever beasts called in another pack to close the trap. Her canine predators demonstrating a cunning higher intelligence, which should have been obvious from the start as the pack dispersed when the chase commenced, instead of chasing from behind and following their pack leader.

Their tired horses burst free of the soft snow and ignoring the shadows, Zoe galloped towards the mountains proper escaping the foothills. The wolves on the flak faded back. Goosebumps. Zoe prepared to confront, and yet they gave way?

“Should we be worried?” asked Jocasta, yelling at the wind, which tried to steal her words away. Her arms tightening around Zosime’s waist.

Jocasta, her yelling for Zoe’s benefit. Behind Zosime’s horse trailed their spare, Jocasta not a competent rider and quickly transferred once Zoe caught the first howl of the pack on the wind. Zoe called a halt, the horses shaking their heads and snorting their agreement.

“We should be safe, just riding at pace to keep them running as well. We are heading to higher ground just in case the pack is larger than I think.”

Jocasta hung off every word, drinking in the confidence Zoe exuded, quelling her fear.

Horses and riders alike expelled deep breaths, the warm clouds billowing into the surrounding cold air. Zoe spurred her horse, Zosime following her lead.

As dusk fell, Zoe searched for a defensible site for an overnight camp. She found an ideal small cliff face amongst many discards as the mountain ridge they deliberately paralleled; finally provided. The wolves howled from a distance, somehow Zoe’s change of direction spoiling their plan.

Once under the cover of the cliff overhang Zoe tied a couple of fallen trees in turn to the spare horse and dragged them into position to form a barrier of sorts, which could be fired to keep the wolves at bay. Zosime and Jocasta gathered brush to place either side of the tree trunk wall in preparation, while Zoe prepared the campfire. With a perimeter established, horses hobbled behind and camp established, Zoe and Zosime kept watch over night in shifts.

Throughout the night the number of wolves at the edge of the fire light increased. Zoe and Zosime with their Borrow Stones spying beyond, the count climbing to thirty by dawn.

Zoe, heart beat rapidly, pacing behind the tree trunks, torch in hand ready in an instant to fire the piled brush. The threat of their defences sufficient for now, although Zoe held doubts the snow peppered fuel would actually flame up. As she counted, her head slowly shook from side to side, so many wolves in one pack. The pack continued with their tactics; moving about, appearing and disappearing in the surrounding low brush and trees, not to mention their coats of white blending in with the snow. The howls of a second pack celebrated the light of the dawn; Zoe estimated three or four bells away.

Zoe glanced over her shoulder, Jocasta’s small huddled body under furs, covered in light snow contrasted to Zosime’s larger body nearby, both vulnerable and trusting. She slapped her fist against her thigh and kicked at the snow underfoot, she grossly underestimated the danger and tried to understand how so many wolves could pack together within the same hunting range. Her bottom lip quivered as her gut wrenched, Zoe swallowing down hard to hold back her urge to vomit.

Zosime wrapped her arms around the shivering Zoe slightly amused the hunter of the sisters affected by the cold when she expertly advised others. Zoe jumped, her boots planting in the snow trying to escape, prevented by Zosime’s strength of arms.

“Are we in that much trouble sister?” Zosime whispered.

Zoe replied with a curt nod, and then spoke, her voice reed thin and laced with doubt. “We cannot move from here and the best we can do is gather more wood for the fire.”

Zosime clung onto Zoe like a lifeline, tightening her embrace further.

“Zosime if you haven’t already … we need to contact Clymene and ask for help. Please release me, I have accepted our truth.”

Zosime dropped her hold and with a fire brand from the campfire patrolled the camp. Zoe, both hands free took advantage of the dawn light trying to pick off their jailors. As she drew back on the bow, they eyed her and dashed for cover, returning frequently to keep her occupied.

--- (Lonely Keep 13th Day of Dark Month)

The morning broke differently at the Lonely Keep. The wind deciding to rest overnight, although the snow continued to fall, gently, an apology for sending harsh winds on previous days.

“Wake sister, pre-dawn awaits you,” sent Clymene. Her attempts to annoy Rhea awake failing dismally.

“Thank-you sister.”

Elpis shook Rhea until awake, they needed to escape their shelter. The spare furs in the cart allowed them to separate themselves from the ground and during the coldest moments embrace and joined their body heat, now they needed to escape.

Sweat on their brows, under their armpits and probably between their thighs, their exertions to no avail as the plug of furs refused to shift. The length of the wagon barely sufficient for the sisters to sleep under, the height clearance inadequate, forcing them to lay on their stomachs to try and push their way to freedom.

“We are trapped?” Rhea’s voice betraying her, the darkness within their wagon cave concealing her hands wiping away her tears.

“No sister, instead of pushing out, pull the furs towards us and place them behind, until we will reach the snow and do the same.”

They started by organising the space under the cart, neatly packing the furs to one side so they made room for the snow they were going to scoop inside as they tunnelled to freedom. Then they started handful by handful, thankful for the gloves they wore and all the other layers of clothes which fought to keep them warm.

Rhea wiggled out first and with no wind she enjoyed actual warmth from the sun. She rolled over and lay on her back for more than a few moments to enjoy it and then felt Elpis upon her kissing her with the joy of life. As they looked to the walls of the keep, they noticed a small crowd of three gathering, pointing at them and waving. Elpis waved back by instinct more than deliberately doing so, the joy of life still gripping her body.

“Should we right the cart and pull it back to the Inn sister?” asked Rhea.

“No, we have been seen and I am sure they will wish to question us and to do that they will need to rescue us,” said Elpis, followed by a sly smile.

“Won’t their mood be somewhat unhappy then?”

“The rescuers perhaps, our interrogators are probably still asleep.”

Rhea drew in a sharp breath. “Interrogators?”

“The Baron and the Baroness, sister. Although I have prepared an explanation for us, one I hope frustrates the Baroness and enthrals the Baron.”

“You sound so confident sister … I … am glad you are with me.” Rhea closed her eyes to the sun and the blue sky above, welcoming a calm heralded by a sky of floating snowflakes and Elpis’ confident words.

“You my sister were summoned here in a vision from your sister …”

--- (The Cleft 13th Day of Dark Month)

“Mistress, we could send Seers to Zosime as she would provide the anchor, we cannot summon Zosime back or Zoe or Jocasta, there needs to be a Seer link. We can send supplies using Zosime as the anchor,” advised Clymene.

“We can send more, as long as they’re Seers. We can send supplies to them that they may not live long enough to use. Zosime said that at least twenty wolves were guarding them, and more were yet to arrive. How could so many survive this harsh Death Season?”

Her heartbeat thumped in her chest and Astera stifled the urge to scream as the fear of failure seized her mind; three warrior-sisters were going to be the price. How would Warrior Sisters trust her after this loss? Astera paced to fill the moments as the awkward pause, due to indecision began to lengthen. Clymene stared at her, awaiting a response, Thyia, eyes sympathetic, opened her mouth as if to speak and then turned away.

Astera thankful for Thyia’s silent presence and Clymene’s solo attendance, two patient trusted supports. Unknowing, she didn’t realise Clymene had established a Seer Circle and although not intending to and against their own wishes they judged their Mistress as the passing moments counted by.

“Clymene, the Seer Circle will send all our Seers to their aid. They need to make sure they take plenty of warm clothes and two-handed spears. They will escort them out of the trap. You will stay here as an anchor to return the Seers once all are safe.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Astera released a long-held breath and lent against the kitchen table, the palms of both hands resting upon the tabletop. Clymene distracted with organising the Seer Circle. Thyia not hesitating, hurrying to her Mistress, guiding her, seating her at the table. Astera unable to suppress a slight tremble overtaking her body.

---

The wolves patiently stalked their improvised camp, Zoe surmising the pack leader must be in the other pack, the only explanation for their restrain. She advised Zosime. The Seer Circle choosing to take the granted time to prepare properly.

Astera, determined to keep busy, began planning the non-seers into shifts to guard the Main Cavern. She started by allocating one sister to be the Dark Priest with two occupying the nearby Guard Post. The non-seers would need to rely on yelling and shouting to call for assistance if required. The cavern blind left empty.

“Mistress … the elder, um, she protests the loss of her last helper and to quote her ‘the blasted Main Cavern door will never be completed at this rate’, will this be an exception?” said Clymene.

Astera, eyes cast down checking names on three columns, paused. “No exceptions.”

“Yes Mistress.”

---

Several bells rang before the Seer Circle finally readied themselves. Tempted to land as one, the grandiose entrance suggested by the Seers themselves, rejected on Astera’s order; the Seer Sisters to arrive one at a time until half joined their Warrior Sisters at their camp. They would sunbathe for at least a bell and then continue.

The Seer Sisters arrived standing before the seated, cross-legged Zosime and eagerly stepped away to remove or displace garments to bathe specific naked flesh in the sunlight to recharge their magic. Released from the confines of the Caverns they enjoyed the open sky, rolling snow covered land and perimeter of pine scented trees. As at the Lonely Keep; the wind breathless. The cliff face providing shelter deflecting the gently falling snow away from their camp. A pleasant and pristine welcome from their natural surrounds.

The other pack continued to arrive even after Zoe spied the presence of their pack leader. He or perhaps a she? Zoe totally surprised, a female pack leader. The beast’s eyes not those of a wolf; human, but how? Fur coat, pure unblemished white dressing a lithe canine predator body rivalling the size of a small pony, dwarfing the male wolves of her pack.

At Zoe’s shout, announcing the arrival of the pack leader, the Seers didn’t bother to dress they laid in situ consolidating their circle and recommenced summoning more of their sisters.

As the next Seer arrived, the pack leader stilled, both piercing blue eyes studying the anomaly. Zoe observed the pack leader’s expression, a human expression using the facial muscles of the wolf. She drew an arrow to her bow, readying to release if the next Seer arrival provided a similar opportunity. Perhaps the human eyes or human mannerisms stayed Zoe’s intention. An intelligent gaze shortly descended upon the Warrior Sister. The tension on her bowstring released and her bow lowered in response.

She recalled one other capable of disarming under a withering gaze, a shiver travelled the length of Zoe’s spine in remembrance of Charis. Zoe advised Jocasta the pack leader summoned her to parley, handing her bow to the girl and willingly striding beyond the tree trunk wall protecting their camp. Jocasta frantically looked around her, the Seers occupied, focused and trance like, including Zosime and short of trying to tackle Zoe to the ground and probably bouncing off, she remained speechless and frozen in place. As Zoe diminished from sight with each step, Jocasta became more aware of the circling wolves, her hands tightening around the upper limb of the bow and her head darting about. Involuntarily Jocasta took a backward step dragging Zoe’s bow with her, her heartbeat racing.

As Zoe strode forward, no wolf approached. Her interpretation and hunch proving correct, her breathing resumed. The pack leader occasionally paused and looked back, until the view of the camp disappeared amongst the trees and she bounded forward sure of her prey. Zoe needed to follow the pack leader by tracking her paw prints in the snow and as she circled around the edge of a large boulder, the transformation reached its final stages. Before her eyes, the extremities, the hands and feet for example the last to humanise into a breath takingly gorgeous and naked human female. Taller than any of her sisters, long slim muscles, speed rather than strength thought Zoe.

“That was brave of you?” The tone of voice deep, grandma or sage like contrasting with the youthful appearance and vibrant alabaster skin colour of the speaker.

“Your eyes. Knowing wolves from my past and seeing those around us now I knew they weren’t eyes of a wolf. Also, you seemed interested and surprised when my Seer Sisters arrived, remarkably not in a more food arriving type of interest either.” Zoe released a discrete smile hopeful for a favourable response trying to avoid ogling the naked human form before her with all her willpower. Her confidence in her analysis killing any hesitation or nerves, the intelligence behind the wolf pack tactics before her, the reason the pack could gather in such numbers also explained. While they talked the Daughters of the Duchess edged closer to survival.

The pack leader chose to reveal her teeth in her return smile, slightly more pointed than typical, otherwise human. Wisdom beyond her years of youth; the pack leader’s assessment of Zoe at their first meeting.

“I haven’t seen Seer Transference for many years, many of your lifetimes in fact, especially not in the middle of nowhere and so many. I suspect the return of magic, although not to the land, just the sense and smell of it on them and you, there is no real magic, yet. So how I ask?”

Zoe folded her arms across her chest. “That is not a secret I can reveal, and I have sworn to hold it until death,” replied Zoe.

“I thought we were trading secrets?”

At Zoe’s questioning look, the pack leader placed her hands upon her naked hips.

“Surely you cannot expect to live, knowing my secret?”

The words hit Zoe like a snow avalanche, her knees weakening and her gut churning, so this would be her death not her salvation. Her attention returning to the present when fingers transformed to claws, hands to paws and forearms grew white fur. The balance of the pack leader remained naked human female.

Zoe accepted her fate, unbuckling her cuiribolli breastplate and when done, dropping her arms to her sides. If the pack leader wanted to kill her, she invited her to do so.

Eyes closed; Zoe spoke, hopefully not for the last time. “I have sworn on my life to one I have given my fealty to. You will need to ask her and her alone if you wish to know the secret of the seers. By the strength of this fealty I swear upon my Mistress that I will hold your secret equally in good faith until my death.”

Zoe felt a single claw part the felt and underclothe covering her chest and therefore her heart. She flinched slightly but didn’t move to protect herself; if the pack leader wished to kill her it would be her easiest kill today. Her flesh exposed to the cold air, searing pain jolted her calm acceptance as blood oozed from the wound, quickly frozen.

“Know that I have now tasted your blood, no matter where you try to hide, I will be able to find you, so if you do betray my secret, I will at least have the satisfaction of eating your heart. You are brave or foolhardy, but either way I am convinced by your actions I can trust you. So, go free, along with your sisters. Before you do, name your Mistress and where I would find her.”

Zoe needed time to think and the easiest way to stall was to inspect her chest, which shocked her. Blood dripped slowly down; a contest between body warmth, natural congealing and the surrounding cold. Eight claw slashes decorated her chest, beginning over her heart, four parting flesh, left and right towards each of her breasts, each oozing their own blood trail along their length.

“Our Mistress is healing for now, at Lonely Keep, although not Lonely Keep, it is difficult to understand but an Elven Lord is helping, we think, but we are not sure. Our current Mistress is defending the caverns under Hillperch.” Zoe wincing, levelling her voice despite the desperate urge to sooth her wounds somehow.

“I suspect your current Mistress will tell me the same as you, so for this secret I must travel to Lonely Keep I think.”

Observing Zoe’s silent nod confirmed her guess and thereby her future actions.

“An Elven Lord you say, Elves are always doing Elven things, I wonder why this particular Elven Lord has time for a human as they’re not easily distracted from their Goddess' mission.”

She noticed the human about to say something and then didn’t, so this one’s Mistress has a secret it seems.

“Tell your sisters the pack leader smelt you, tasted your blood and satisfied you are good and not evil, let you and your sisters live. To help with this, I would ask you lay down and expose your chest a little more.”

Zoe didn’t know what would happen next, but certainly not her death that could have happened plenty of times before now. She lay down in the snow, fully complying, observing while the pack leader effortlessly, gracefully even fully transformed to her wolf shape. She tensed as the beast’s shadow heralded its arrival, the radiating body warmth confirming its final position above Zoe’s trembling body. A hot, moist rasping tongue dragged across her wounds one at a time and on several occasions, required or not, flicked tantalisingly across Zoe’s erect, cold affected nipples.

Her blood licked away, the flesh beneath sealed and eight feint pink scars the resultant proof. Then the pack leader bounded away, howling. The howl answered by many others.

Zoe slowly climbed to her feet and dressed her chest as best she could. The armour would cover most of the damage to her blood soaked felt and underclothe and then additional furs would complete the illusion. She collected herself, contemplating her encounter. Did she meet a wolf which could transform into a human or a human who could transform into a wolf? Long lived apparently and certainly less than enamoured by Elven Lords. And, oh yeah commands over forty snow wolves, from afar and absolutely. Zoe shivered.

The tree trunks covered in brush greeted her when Zoe returned to camp. Jocasta jumping and yelling, announcing her return. Once in the camp proper, the Seers swamp the smallish huntress until she fell, and they were all laughing and rolling around in the snow. The partially clothed Seers soon realising the fun disappeared when snow contacted flesh and wormed its way into clothing to melt. Snapped back to reality they quickly sort the warmth of the campfire and in several cases dry spare clothes.

Jocasta extended her small hand, which Zoe accepted flashing her a thank-you smile.

“You don’t like the snow?”

“I don’t like being cold and wet, spent most of my life living that harsh reality,” deadpanned Jocasta.