I didn’t build a den, not really.

What I did was assemble a second sled with a closed top, tightly insulated with layers of furs and fat. The movable den became Star and her pups’ new home, one that Snow, and the other wolves gladly pulled.

It was a solution that allowed the pack to keep moving while at the same time, ensuring the pups were protected from the weather.

I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before that pups may be born, but after Star’s litter, I made sure to check the other females in the pack. At least two others were heavily pregnant.

And so, I built more moveable dens.

At first, the pack’s response to the newborns was muted. I suspected that this was due in no small part to the fate suffered by other pups before I joined the pack. But once Star’s pups left the safety of their den to frolic in the snow, I sensed true joy kindle in even the most hard-bitten members of the pack.

They had finally begun to believe their young would live.

Watching the four pups—and those who followed soon after—play amongst their more somber elders brought a smile to my own face. It gave me a deep-seated sense of accomplishment, too, to know that I had had a part to play in youngsters’ survival. If not for my coming, Snow and Star would likely be dead already, and their pups would never have been born.

The pups’ addition to the pack meant the wolves had a real future in the sector now—even if I didn’t. I’d stopped railing against my own fate, though. The pack had become family and I was content to spend my days seeing to their well-being.

But only a few days later, all that changed.

~~~

On my two hundred and fifth day in the tundra, I came across a surprising sight.

A fifteen-foot-high pillar of ice.

I stumbled to a halt, unable to believe what I was seeing. Closing my eyes, I snapped them open again. Then, for good measure, I rubbed them—hard.

The pillar remained. I wasn’t hallucinating.

I’d found one of my snow cones.

Dropping the reins of my sled, I rushed forward. The wolves streamed behind me, barking happily. The pack might not understand the reason for my excitement, but they sensed my sudden burst of joy.

Out of breath, I stumbled to a halt before the snow cone. Just from its size alone, I could tell it was one of my earlier attempts. Digging furiously into the spire’s base, I found the bone I’d buried within and yanked it out to read the markings.

Thirty-eight.

It was one of my very first snow cones, then. I swiveled my head to the left and right and, sure enough, spotted two more ice spires.

Numbers thirty-nine and thirty-seven.

I’d arrived from a heading almost perpendicular to the line formed by the three snow cones. Clearly, my wandering across the tundra had not been in a straight a course as I’d imagined.

But what does this mean?

Very little, I thought, my initial giddiness fading. At best, it meant I could retrace my steps through the tundra, but beyond that? Nothing.

It didn’t put me any closer to finding the exit portal.

I shrugged off my disappointment. It does mean something, I insisted to the doubting inner voice. It means my plan to chart the tundra is feasible.

Returning to the sled, I shooed away the inquisitive pups and tugged it onwards again, aiming for the snow cone I guessed to be number thirty-seven. I planned on retracing my steps all the way back to snow cone number one.

And then, I would resume my mapping.

~~~

Days later, the pack and I were back in virgin territory. My first ice spire was behind us, and I’d begun constructing snow cones again.

We moved quicker too. A new urgency filled me, a sense that perhaps escaping the sector was finally in my grasp. As a result, I spent less time building my nightly shelters, forcing most of the pack—excluding only the new wolf mothers and their pups—to spend their nights out in the open again.

None of the wolves complained, but often, I felt Snow’s eyes resting on me, his thoughts opaque. I wanted to reassure the alpha, but of what, I wasn’t quite certain.

As the days passed and we kept up our relentless march, my thoughts returned more frequently to the Game and those I’d left behind.

Were the mantises still hunting me? What did Loken make of my disappearance? Were all the careful plans I’d prepared still valid? And how were those in the valley—Saya and the dire wolves—faring?

But most of all, I wondered if fate—the Adjudicator, the Game, call it what you will—was just toying with me again. After all, this was not the first time that hope had been dangled before me.

Was it only so it could be snatched back again?

Time will tell, I thought grimly.

~~~

Day two hundred and thirty. And another breakthrough.

I was trudging through the snow—as always—and doing my best to ignore the twelve pups tugging at my clothing when suddenly, the entire pack of them scampered off.

I heaved a sigh of relief. The pups were a joy, but sometimes they could be trying.

Glancing to my left, I saw that the younglings had their heads bent over one particular patch of the ground and were sniffing at it furiously. They’d found something.

What is it this time? I wondered. Another bone?

Yapping excitedly, all twelve began to dig. Shaking my head in bemusement at the pups’ antics, I dragged the sled past. The pack’s mothers would herd the little scamps onwards soon enough, but in the meantime, I had a few moments of peace.

Looking over my shoulder, I checked my bearings. The last snow cone was still in sight. A few more hours before I need to build the next one, I thought, turning about to face forward again.

A flash of dark brown caught my eye.

I paused. Whatever the pups had uncovered, it wasn’t a bone.

Shrugging out of my harness, I made my way to their side. All twelve had their teeth into something and, yanking hard, were trying to drag it free of the snow. Ignoring the pups’ growls of protest, I shooed them away and inspected their find.

It was a corpse. One frozen solid, and with its face mangled beyond recognition. Still, I knew what I was looking at.

It was a ratman.

Narrowing my gaze, I swiveled about in a slow circle. There was nothing that marked the spot I stood on as different from any other on the plains. Nonetheless, I waved the pack over.

“Dig,” I urged. Following my own instructions, I retrieved my shovel from the sled and began digging too.

A little later, just as I suspected, we uncovered another ratman. Like the first, he wore no clothes.

But then again, I stole their garments, didn’t I?

I was sure now that this was where I’d slain the ratmen who’d followed me over from the second level what seemed a lifetime ago.

I had found my origin point in the sector.

~~~

A few minutes later, the pack and I uncovered the remaining ratmen bodies. They lay in the same position I’d slain them, and based on my memory of the battle, I could almost pinpoint the portal’s location.

Of course, the discovery didn’t mean much.

Although, technically, I supposed it meant I was no longer lost. I knew where I was now, after all. A wry grin split my face at the thought. Not that I can do much with the—

At a sudden yelp of pain, my head whipped about.

Bored with the dead body, the pups had wandered off, and not a few dozen yards away, they were chasing each other in circles. One pup, though, was sitting on his haunches with a dazed expression on his face.

Rising back to his feet, the pup shook himself and scampered forward again.

Only to bounce back again.

Huh?

It was almost as if the pup had hit an invisible wall…

Snow sensed something amiss too. Rising from where he lounged at my feet, he quickly covered the distance to the pup. The other wolves followed on his heels, hackles raised.

Drawing my blades, I raced after them.

The pups had not missed their elders’ sudden concern. Play forgotten, they padded silently back to their waiting mothers. Snow waited for the pup to reach the safety of his mother’s side before shoving his nose forward.

He, too, was rebuffed.

My hands tightened around my blades. I was slower than the wolves across the frozen ground and was still only halfway to the alpha. But I was ready to shadow blink into action at a moment’s notice.

Yet, like the pup, Snow had suffered no injury. A quizzical expression on his face, the alpha turned around to look at me, his intent to wait for me clear.

Nearing the alpha, I slowed to a halt and approached more cautiously, eyes roving over the ground in front.

There was nothing unusual about it.

The plains ahead were just as bleak as in any other direction, and the wind blew just as strongly. Truly, it looked ordinary. Remember the last time you thought that? Readying psi, I reached out with a tentative hand.

Congratulations, Michael! You have discovered the lair of the sector boss. Deactivating the veil of concealment...

I stared at the message in disbelief. Un-bloody-believable.