In the coming days, the wolves and I roamed the icy plains.

The pack was better than me at finding game. For one, they had the numbers for it, and for another, they were more fleet of foot. Every day, without fail, the pack’s far-ranging scouts discovered something and reported back their findings.

Sometimes, depending on the prey, I chose to forgo the hunt. Sadly, as skilled as the pack was at finding game, they were not equally adept at taking it down, not without losses anyway.

The wolves’ attitude towards injured or dead packmates was one of stoic indifference. The pack had to eat. And no beast on the tundra made for easy prey.

I, on the other hand, was less accepting.

But even as their leader I could not force the pack to let me tackle the fights alone. Nor could I not protect them all in battle. Still, despite some minor losses, the pack grew steadily.

I don’t know if it was just this section of the tundra that was more numerous with wolves, but every day, the pack’s calls brought more recruits until, one day, the pack was over one-hundred-strong.

The weeks passed easily after that.

By day, we hunted, and by night, we huddled together, sheltering for warmth. The wolves loved the igloo, and once they tasted its warmth none willingly slept out in the open again. Needless to say, my nightly shelters grew in size and constructing them became more time consuming.

I didn’t give up building the snow cones either. Day in and day out, I erected my icy spires—much to the amusement of the watching wolves who seemed puzzled by my antics stacking and packing snow.

I kept up my training as well, honing my mastery of both mind and sword, even if, as busy as my days were, I had less time to practice. My second shortsword had grown battered and blunt, and outside of training served little practical purpose. Ebonheart, though, remained as sharp as ever.

Of course, I questioned the pack, too. Or tried to, as much as I could, anyway. I wasn’t sure how long the wolves had been on the tundra, but I got the impression that some were more familiar with the terrain than I was.

I’d projected the image of a nether portal into the minds of the wolves several times, and though I sensed a spark of recognition in a few, it was quickly swamped by feelings of overwhelming dread.

The wolves knew something about the portal, that much I was sure of, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t persuade them to talk about it. Even Snow refused to converse on the matter.

A week went by, then another, and another.

Then five weeks after we first met, Snow came to see me.

~~~

“What is it, brother?” I asked cheerfully as the alpha sat down beside me. We’d just slain a large group of hyenas and the rest of the pack was still eating.

The white wolf licked his reddened muzzle and blood-soaked paws. His coat was no longer as pristine as it had been when we first met. I thought Snow the canniest fighter in the pack, but not even he had escaped the intervening weeks without earning a scar or two.

Done cleaning himself, Snow looked at me with somber eyes. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then an image flashed in my mind.

I drew in a sharp breath.

It was a nether portal.

But it was not the generic image, I’d shown the wolves. This one was subtly different and seemed one of Snow’s own memories instead of an imagining.

“You’ve seen it?” I whispered.

Snow exuded a single sharp thought that I’d learned denoted assent.

“Where?” I asked, a thrill coursing through me.

The wolf’s head swiveled to the left and almost perpendicular to the direction we were traveling, I noted.

I studied the pack alpha for a moment. “Why tell me now?” I asked finally, my initial excitement fading.

Snow radiated a welter of emotions and thoughts too complex for me to interpret.

I rubbed my jaw, pondering. I needed to frame my question in simpler terms if I wanted to make sense of his response. “Is it close?”

Assent again.

“Dangerous?”

Emphatic assent.

I sighed. I’d been hoping Snow’s attitude towards the portal had changed, but it appeared not. “I must still go there, you know.”

Quiet acceptance.

“I will go alone. You will be in charge. Keep the pack here until—”

Instant refusal.

Then another avalanche of images. This time, I grasped their meaning. Neither Snow nor the rest of the wolves were willing to stay behind.

“It will be too dangerous,” I protested. “There is no reason for any of the pack to risk their lives.”

Stubborn denial.

I sighed again. There was no way I could keep the pack away if they insisted on accompanying me. My authority as a scion extended only so far, it seemed.

“Very well. We leave tomorrow.”

~~~

It took three days to reach the nether portal.

I remained on high alert the entire way. Although the wolves were emphatic that the portal was dangerous, they were unable to articulate why that was the case.

At first, I suspected the danger to be hordes of beasts or even savants, but as we drew closer to the portal’s location, the tundra grew more barren—not less—and a day from our destination, even the pack’s scouts were unable to find any game to hunt.

The region had been completely abandoned.

The implications were clear. It was not only the wolves that feared the area. The other beasts were similarly afraid. It was confounding. If the nebulous threat wasn’t beasts, savants, or some other powerful dungeon denizen, what could it be?

When we reached the gateway, I still didn’t have an answer.

I was lost in thought, pondering the mystery, when Snow, keeping pace beside me, suddenly stopped. Jerking to a halt, I stared at the white wolf in surprise. “What is—”

I broke off.

His hackles raised and fangs bared, Snow’s eyes were fixed unerringly on something ahead. Following the direction of his gaze, I spotted a familiar glint through the falling snow.

The glow of a portal.

I turned back to Snow. “Wait here,” I ordered unnecessarily. Neither the pack alpha nor any of the other wolves were making any move to get closer.

Dropping the ropes of the sled, I left the pack behind and stomped towards the gateway. As I drew nearer, more details became clear.

The portal shone a luminescent white, indication enough that it was active. Like the other gateways I’d seen, it was bordered by a thick band of silvery metal.

My frown deepened. There was nothing scary about the portal. It looked… ordinary.

Still, I kept my hands on my blades and my senses extended as I came to a halt before the glowing gateway. Craning my head to the left and right, I searched the surroundings for any hint of a threat.

My intuition remained quiescent.

Mindsight turned up nothing.

Trap detect neither.

Glancing behind me, I saw the wolves watching intently. They were afraid. Tense. But their wariness was unfocused. I didn’t doubt the wolves’ instincts, though. I was certain that there was danger here.

But what?

I padded a slow circle around the gateway.

Still nothing.

That left only one thing to investigate: the portal itself. Made more nervous by the pack’s anxiety than I cared to admit, I reached out and touched the rim of the gateway.

A Game alert unfurled in my mind.

Congratulations, Michael! You have discovered a hidden exit from the Endless Dungeon. This is a two-way portal and leads directly from level 3 of the Guardian Tower to the surface of the Forever Kingdom. This location is a key point and has been added to your Logs.

I gaped at the Adjudicator’s message. A hidden exit? There had been no suggestion of anything like this in the gnome’s notes, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it—about how I should feel about it.

Disappointment vied with elation.

The portal didn’t lead to the next sector. Which meant I was no closer to finishing the level.

On the other hand, the portal was a way out. A two-way exit, at that. I could leave and return. The Game wasn’t forcing me into a choice between abandoning my dungeon run or continuing, which was a relief.

Just as importantly, the wolves could leave too. Nearly anywhere else would be better than here for the pack.

Turning around, I waved the pack forward. “Come on,” I yelled. “It’s safe!”

None of the wolves budged an inch.

I frowned. Why won’t they—

I broke off, realizing the problem. The wolves couldn’t see the Adjudicator’s words, and they likely had no idea what the gateway was. It must be the portal itself they are afraid of.

My shoulders sagged. It was not an insurmountable problem, though. I’ll just nip through and have a look around. Once I’ve seen the sector on the other side with my own eyes, I’m sure I can convince the pack it’s safe.

But I would take every precaution before doing so. I couldn’t discount the pack’s fear entirely. After all, it was entirely possible it was not the portal—but what lay on the other side—that terrified them.

I didn’t want to believe that, though.

It would be too cruel a joke for even the Game to play. Why dangle hope, only to wrench it away? But further speculation was pointless. There was only one way I was going to know for sure: and that was by going through.

Closing my eyes, I saw to my preparations.

You have cast reaction buff, increasing your Dexterity by +4 ranks for 20 minutes.

You have cast lighten load, reducing your total armor penalties to 10% for 20 minutes. Net effect: +2 Dexterity and +1 Magic.

You have cast mind shield.

Glancing back, I met Snow’s gaze. “I will be back,” I assured him.

Grim foreboding greeted my words.

He didn’t believe me, then. “I will,” I repeated, not sure who I was trying to convince.

Turning back to the gate and eager to escape the tundra—if only for a moment—I crept through the gateway.

Transfer through portal commencing…

…

…

Passage completed!

Leaving sector 107. Entering the Forever Kingdom.