Barin rode a bit taller in the saddle as he watched the company go before him. Four hundred soldiers, six hundred horses, sixty-four civilian carts, a wizard and sixteen apprentice wizards. Neal pulled his horse next to Beau.

“Lord Garion will be pleased. Extremely pleased,” the commander said, confidently.

Carts passed them carrying barrels of food, water, goats, chickens, fodder, dried firewood, weapons, and a blacksmith’s wagon. The assembly was to split once it came to Ream River. Neal would take a third of the company into the Tellwater Valley and meet up with Felix and his men. They would divide the troops, horses, and food. All but the sheep, for Lord Garion had his own if the skura hadn’t pillaged the rest of his livestock. From the foothills Barin would march his men into Fairmistle and the river basin, stationing men in intervals, around towns and villages, bringing them much-needed supplies and protecting the country people. He’d teach them the tricks to kill mountain giants too. There, the men-at-arms would stay until springtime, or until the enemy threat had lessened, whichever came first.

They traveled slowly.

Leaving while still winter had been a change in plans and found Barin’s company nearer to Mount Ream than initially intended. A blizzard had slowed the company’s travels, and because the passage down the canyon was next to impossible in the snowstorm, the weather forced them to make camp in the highlands before they reached the junction along Ream River.

Barin patrolled the campsite as the tents were raised, and campfires built. He trudged through the icy snow with his head bowed to ward off the cold. Traveling had gone smoothly up to this point. If he were superstitious, he would be wrapped in dread as well as in his wool cloak and scarves. Whispers of impending ill fate seemed to ride on the winter chill, though the voices were discreet, and he could have been imagining them. Perhaps the wind played with his mind.

He nodded a greeting to those setting up camp, lending a hand with a tent when needed and checking to make certain everyone had ample provisions.

“Evening, Vasil,” Madeline, one of the camp cooks, greeted him as Barin walked up to her cart. “We’re brewing up a chicken broth for the soldiers they can mix in with their stews. We’ll have it ready soon.” Hens squawked as her husband and two other men pulled pullets from a cage in their wagon and took them out to the woods, hatchets in hand.

“Thank you,” Barin said, his breath like steam. “I’ll let the soldiers know. Ask those men to bury what you don’t use. There are scavengers in these parts that would do more damage than just cleaning up after a butchering. We don’t want to leave the scent of blood.”

“Of course, Vasil.”

“I’ll let the men know to expect some broth tonight,” he said.

“Expecting trouble?” Talos asked as Barin passed his campfire. A large man, Talos had several years on Barin. Fair-haired, bearded, and mild-mannered Barin enjoyed spending time with him. A good leader, having fought by Barin’s side in many battles, Talos had been assigned a company of soldiers to oversee on this excursion once they reach Tellwater. He offered Barin a mug of mulled wine, and Barin gladly accepted. Even though the prince wore thick leather gloves, the heat from the cup sent warmth through his body. He sat on a log next to Talos and enjoyed the fire.

“Two days out of Prasa Potama and we’ve had no incidents. With this large of a company, we’ve been fortunate. We’re on the mountain now, though, Talos. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Been watching those hills,” Talos nodded, holding his cup close to his lips. The steam of the hot wine merged with his foggy breath. “Sometimes I don’t know if it’s the wind picking up the snow, or that devil-wizard’s mountain giants creeping about.”

“Fear will play tricks with our minds, Talos, but in a place like Mount Ream, we can’t be too cautious.” Barin gazed into the dull gray woods. Only the trunks of the trees offered contrast against the snow. “Have your men keep vigil tonight. I want the livestock and horses guarded with an extra patrol.”

“Yes, sire. I don’t suppose anyone is going to sleep much, anyway.”

Barin finished his wine and handed the mug back to Talos as he stood. “Keep hot coals in your fire pit just in case.”

By the time Barin had made his rounds, most of the soldiers had already cleaned up after their meal and retired. Their campfires dwindled to hot embers and fading streams of smoke.

The prince returned to his tent, where Neal stirred a pot of soup made from dried vegetables and rutabagas, a broth that warmed his insides and renewed his strength. But nothing would calm his nerves. The sooner the expedition reached the valley, the better he’d feel.

“I think if the snow subsides tomorrow, we can move on down the ravine. Once off the mountain, the trail to Tellwater follows the river. My party will head south from there into the plains.” Barin suggested, warming his hands over the coals. Snowflakes sizzled on the embers and steam twirled into the sky.

“And I travel with whom?” Kairos asked. “You never quite made that clear.”

“That’s because we were feeling things out, Kairos,” Barin blew into his gloves to warm them. “Wherever the threat is the greatest. Father says you’ve become a champion against our enemy now.”

“Did he? Well, that’s good to know I have your father’s faith. I have plenty of vials with me, but I’m not sure how it reacts should it freeze. For now, they’re tucked under my chemise. But if you could get me to a warmer climate, I’m sure they’d function much better.”

Barin shook his head and smiled. “Kairos, Kairos, when are you going to take this war seriously? We need you where the threat is greatest. Not where you’ll be the most comfortable.”

“Yes, I know,” the wizard mumbled, brushing his long locks behind his ears, and wrapping his cloak tighter around himself. “But you can’t blame a fellow for trying. I’m serious about the frozen vials, though. If we have to wait for them to thaw…” his voice tapered when Barin stood, staring up into the hills.

“I’ll try to persuade our prince to allow you to come to Tellwater with me. The concentration of Skura there, and this news of them stealing children seems to warrant your services.” Neal said.

Kairos’s eyes lit up. “Ah! The vineyards!”

Barin grinned and winked at Neal. He had already considered sending Kairos to the valley. His smile faded, though, while observing the slopes above them.

“What? What do you see?” Neal asked, rising next to him.

“Tell me that’s just snow up there,” Barin whispered over the subtle sound of crackling of the fire and his heart hammering.

“Snow. Or mist.” Neal said.

The sun had already fallen below the horizon, leaving a dark but brilliant blue sky. Ice on the mountain accented its hues and a thin wisp of snow still floated in the air, preventing Barin from seeing further than his immediate camp. He had been on this mountain before, and his experience had not been a happy one. If the giants were creeping toward him, he wanted to know before he woke up to the sound of bones crushing.

“Build this fire up,” Neal suggested as he pulled wood out of the tent.

Barin signaled for a sentry who’d been patrolling nearby. The man jogged to meet him. “Send word to the men to stay alert. Campfires should burn visibly all night. Also, no one may wander away from camp.”

“Yes, sir.”

Within minutes, the men-at-arms and civilians both had been alerted and dozens of fires ignited again so that smoke filled the basin.

“Is it our job to keep them away? Or to destroy them?” Kairos asked. “I mean, just out of curiosity.”

“Right now, our job is to get to our destinations. If that means killing mountain giants, that’s what we do. However, my dear sorcerer, we have not yet found the secret to destroying these devils. We can make them less harmful with fire, but a flame will merely drive them away, not extinguish them from existence.”

“Ah! I see,” Kairos lifted a finger and looked Barin in the eye. “Which will be your father’s next project for me, I assume.”

“Yes, you can rightfully make that assumption. And if you can devise some sort of magic tonight, we’ll gladly test it for you.”

“For me to do that, I must know more about these creatures.”

Barin watched the mist for a while longer, but already the smell of smoke traveled up the mountainside. If there were giants approaching, they would sense the fire. Fortunately, the heavy fog he’d seen before had dissipated.

“Relax, Barin,” Neal suggested. “I see nothing. If there’s a threat, we can make torches as Erika and Rory did in Canyon Gia.”

Funny that Neal should mention Erika regarding mountain giants. Barin considered their parting words and how pardoning her had freed him of a burden he’d been carrying. He sat on a log next to Neal and confronted the wizard.

“We don’t know a lot about them. Anyone from Fairmistle can tell you the rumors and legends. How much truth they hold, I don’t know. What I know is that they live as a mist on the mountain and are drawn to flesh. Like any predator, they kill, and as their victims die, the mist manifests into giants made of stone, and then they become harder still, like iron.”

“And how do they kill if they’re only a fog to begin with?”

“They hunt in packs. When they snare their prey, they gather until they become a dense fog. The denser the fog, the more they weigh until their weight crushes their victim.” Neal explained. “It’s almost as if the act of killing is what they feed on—what gives them their bodies.”

Kairos shuddered and moved closer to the fire. “You’d think their victims would squirm away before it came to that.”

“There’s no time. Had it not been for Rory, Samuel, and Erika, Neal and I would be nothing, but a pile of bones left to rot in Canyon Gia.” Barin said. “Let’s stoke that fire and let it burn through the night. Get some sleep, we’ll need it. We have a long day tomorrow, snow or no snow.”

Eager to get the company moving, Barin slept little and rose before sunrise. Bundled in his cloak, he stepped outside of his tent, puffed a cloud of steam in the night air, and marched through the camp, waking the men.

“Pack up. We’re leaving,” he ordered.

The word rippled through the campsite. Soon horses were saddled, tents folded and packed away, and campfires put out. The sunrise brought a cloudless sky and a deep freeze. Barin shuddered from the cold. The sooner they were off the mountain, the better.

The narrow road to the ravine allowed the passage of the cart, but barely. Travel would be slow and might take an entire day to get the last of their company to the flatlands. Having come this far with no mishaps, Barin considered their fortune good, but such good fortune comes with a price. The stillness of the mountain made him tense. This country belonged to the mountain giants, and they were trespassing.

Barin divided the company so that well-armed men rode alongside the livestock, and armed men surrounded the civilians. Neal would lead with a portion of his troops, and Kairos would ride with him, so if skura attacked as they entered the ravine, Kairos would be upfront. Barin and the best of his men, and several apprentice magicians would bring up the rear, the magicians riding in a cart directly in front of him. Stationing spotters along the way allowed for word to travel through the caravan easily and without error.

Neal left before dawn. The carts followed. By the time the last of the horses entered the gorge, the sun had already risen. Aside from what snow blanketed the trailhead, most of the powder had either been packed down or melted as the sun hit the canyon walls. Small streams trickled in crevices along the buttes. Barin allowed his men to ride first and followed last, Talos at his side.

With some difficulty, two horses could walk side by side on the trail, but because of the steep banks and icy surface, Barin let Talos ride in front of him. The line of travelers was visible as far as the next switchback and they were not moving as quickly as he would like, often coming to a complete halt.

One such delay for an especially long interval brought a spotter to them. Barin could still see the trailhead above when they stopped.

“There’s a cart up ahead that’s broken an axle,” the young man’s horse wheezed, its sweat foaming on its chest as the spotter tried to calm the animal.

“How far down?”

“Midway.”

“Do you need me?” Barin asked.

“No, sir. It’s taken care of. We’re unloading the cargo into another cart and will roll the vehicle over the side of the cliff to get it out of the way. We’re not in a place to fix an axle. No one wants to stay in this canyon. We have spotted skura nesting in the oaks.”

“How far from here did you see the skura?”

“Two switchbacks down, Vasil. The horses are nervous, so be careful.” He patted his mount and spoke calmly to the animal. “We’re hoping to reach bottom before sunset.”

“How far has Neal gotten?”

“He’s made camp already. Someone said he’s down there fishing.” The scout laughed. “They told me to let you know.”

“Yes, thanks I appreciate that. I expect fish for dinner! And you’re right, the sooner we’re out of this gorge, the better we’ll all be.” Barin snickered. “Fishing, eh?”

The man saluted and rode away, disappearing around a switchback.

“No sense sitting on this animal longer than I need to,” Barin told Talos as he dismounted and took a drink of water from his gourd. “Take a break, Talos.”

Talos remained saddled, eyeing the cliffs above him. “I don’t know, Vasil, I don’t enjoy lingering on this mountain. The hair on my arms’ standing straight up.”

“I’m not too fond of this ledge either.”

“Keep thinking we’re being followed.” Talos’ voice trembled.

Barin glanced up at the cliffs that surrounded them and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. White stone bluffs towered over the trail—icy, rocky, and desolate—absorbing the residues of the sun’s warmth. Straggly half-formed firs reached out in space, their roots spreading like fingers grasping for illusory soil. Boulders balanced precariously over them, threatening to tumble.

“Keep a sharp eye out, then Talos. I never discount a soldier’s intuition.”

“Yes, sir. I don’t see why we don’t just move everyone from Tellwater to Prasa Potama. It’d be much easier protecting folks there.”

“It would seem. Except not everyone would live in the city, nor could they adapt. Country folk have their own lifestyle. Besides, we need farmers to till the soil. Not much farming goes on in the city.”

“No, but not much farming in mid-winter. Should bring them all home with us. At least while the dark lord is sending his army out to kill people. It makes it extra hard for us to keep them safe.”

Barin laughed to himself. Talos had little knowledge of how populated the Potamian farming regions were. “You’re talking about hundreds of serfs, Talos. Prasa Potama couldn’t hold that many people.”

“You know best, Vasil. Just a thought.”

The sun had risen to its zenith, and still, the company hadn’t advanced. Rolling a cart off the side of the cliff must be harder than it seemed. Barin mounted Beau again. “I’m going to check on this obstruction. We should be moving by now.”

Before he passed the magicians’ wagon, dust and flying snow shot out onto the road ahead of him. The neigh of terrified horses echoed up the canyon. The scream of skura followed. Winged creatures filled the gorge and attacked the livestock.

Barin and Talos drew their crossbows, but the horse pulling the cart with the magicians spooked and bolted forward. Talos took off after it. His mount stumbled over the rocks and then slipped and skidded off the road. Talos rolled with his horse as it tumbled down the side of the bank. Before his horse slammed into a rock, Talos went spinning from his saddle onto the craggy cliff below. Barin watched helplessly.

Someone had calmed the magicians’ horses, and the apprentices had already shot streams of lightning at the skura, annihilating them with bursts of explosions. Further down the gorge men still shouted orders, and an occasional bolt flew from a crossbow. But they had killed the skura.

Barin jumped off Beau and skidded over to the bank. Talos had fallen into a ravine where the slopes were steep and slippery. One wave from Talos showed the soldier was alive. He held his leg and attempted to stand, but instead fell again.

“I’m coming,” Barin told him, and slid down the mountain, losing his balance as he hit a bank of mud and ice. When he finally reached the man, Talos groaned.

“I think I broke my hip. I can’t move my leg at all.”

Barin glanced at the dead horse and wondered how he’d get Talos back up the hill. Or down the hill.

“Looks like they’re moving again,” Talos said between groans of pain.

“That they are,” Barin agreed as he watched the caravan. From where they were in the ravine, the company appeared no larger than a parade of ants. He hadn’t realized how far down the mountain Talos had fallen.

“Blazing varmints devouring whatever isn’t theirs!”

“It appears the magicians have rid us of them all.”

The caravan moved on, soon disappearing out of sight. No one seemed to notice that Barin and Talos weren’t with them. The Magicians were fighting skura, and everyone else had already moved ahead. Barin pushed his cloak off his shoulders and wiped his hands on his pants, regarding how he might lift Talos. “Guess I carry you.”

“They’ll discover their prince missing soon enough, won’t they?”

“Possibly, but what can they do? Pulling you up over those boulders will be impossible and the sun will be down soon. Sending out a search party for us will be dangerous. I hope they don’t. I’ll carry you down this mountainside and meet them at the river.”

“Blazing idols, Vasil, you can’t carry me I’m twice your weight. And we have to climb out of this ravine before we can descend the mountain.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“Let me lean on you, then.”

Barin supported Talos as the man stood, even though the older man’s height and weight exceeded Barin’s, making it harder for Barin to prop him upright. They took a step, and then another. Slowly the two inched across the steep and rocky terrain, resting frequently whenever they came to level ground or a boulder to sit on. The sun set quicker than they moved, and they could see the river far below them, campfires being lit, and tents being pitched, but at their pace, they would not reach the river until well into the night. They heard scouts calling for them once and answered. The men must not have heard them, for the search party’s calls subsided and the dark of night crept over them, and silence returned. They were so far from the road and hidden in the gorge, Barin doubted anyone would find them that night.

As the hour grew late, fog rose from the river, a natural occurrence that happened as a chill swept over the flowing waters. Yet Barin couldn’t help but remember the misty manifestation of mountain giants the last time he crossed this mountain range. He seldom gave into fear, but the pain of being crushed by the beasts still haunted him.

“You’re trembling, Vasil. I know that feeling. You should just set me down and get to your men. I’m not worth the blood of a prince.”

“Nonsense, Talos, I’m not abandoning you,” Barin insisted.

Fog grew thicker and soon he could see nothing in the distance, not the river, nor the sycamore trees that grew in the basin, nor the fires of the campsites. Talos collapsed again. “Let me just rest here, Vasil. I can’t move any more. Pain’s too great. Maybe we could sleep a bit before we go any further.”

Barin stood up straight. His back hurt from supporting Talos, so he took a drink of water and stretched. When the fog which hovered around their feet materialized, he jumped away.

“Talos, look out,” Barin warned and drew his sword, but misty fingers immediately flicked away his blade. Barin froze, stunned, watching a mountain giant take shape. The ogre’s body appeared moss-covered, hard, and cold. He had huge shoulders and a beard and hair made of lichen. Barin staggered backward, tripping over his cloak. The giant’s hands blocked any means of escape and closed in around him, making a rock wall Barin could neither penetrate nor climb over.

He faced the giant, surprised that he wasn’t being crushed.

“Who are you?” The mountain giant asked.

Barin’s heart raced, yet he stood tall. “I am Barin, son of King Tobias, Lord of this land.”

The giant shook his head slowly. “Well greetings Barin, I’m Sol. Prince of the mountain giants. I come and go as I please, for I’m the personal assistant of your Lord Skotádi. King Tobias is not lord of this land. There is another greater than any man.” His mouth turned upward into a smile, though a toothless one. Where his eyes should have been, mist swirled in the sockets instead. The mountain giant folded his hands tighter, pressing against Barin’s body. “My liege will be happy to see that I’ve caught me a prince. Extremely happy.”

Barin made one last attempt to climb out of the giant’s grasp, but the giant’s stony fingers pinched him tightly. Talos lay on the ground, eyes wide in shock, unable to move. The giant lifted Barin higher, so he was level with his wicked toothless smile. His breath smelled like the air in a musty cave.

“Lord Skotádi is going to love you, yes indeed,” he said as he poked against Barin’s chest, knocking the wind out of the prince. “You’re coming with me.”