“Okay,” Nova said, his chest heaving. “This thing can move.”
Hunter slowed slightly, nodding as he peered through the swirling snows and noting the thick layer of ice buildup around the muzzle of his helmet. “You’re telling me.” He brought one hoof up and knocked it against the chin of his armor. A chunk of ice broke away, falling to the ground and vanishing into the thick carpet of snow. “I’d fly if I thought it would do any good.”
“Isn’t it working for that thing?”
“It? He?” He glanced at Nova, then nodded at his muzzle. “Ice check.” It was easier to breathe, a little, now that he’d knocked most of his own ice away, but his lungs were still heaving in and out, sucking in air. “I guess. I can see a trail, so he’s interacting with the ground somehow.” He pointed at the faint sign they’d been following through the snow. It wasn’t much, just a faint divot where the snow beneath the cloud of smoke they’d been following had been pushed away. It was already filling in, snow and wind scouring it clean.
We’re just lucky this thing leaves a trail at all. There was a soft plop as the ice from Nova’s muzzle broke free and fell to the snow. Gives me something to track. Not that it’s getting any easier. The sky above was getting darker, the shadows between the trees growing thicker. The snow hadn’t gotten any worse, thankfully, but at the rate it was coming down it wasn’t exactly helping either.
And we’re getting tired. Running through snow was never easy. And they’d been at it for hours, winding through the woods with The Hummingbird overhead, their saddlebags full of gear. If not for our armor, we’d be right stuffed. As it was, he felt close. Nova couldn’t feel much better.
We can’t keep this up.
Unfortunately, their quarry so far could. And about all we’ve got going for us is that it isn’t heading for the city. Which didn’t mean much, all things considering. If it doubles back on us, and we lose the trail …
He scowled. Steel, I should punt your flank into next week for this assignment.
I should, but … He almost let out a sigh. We’re Dusk Guard. This is what we’re supposed to do. “The impossible, right?” he muttered under his breath.
“What?” Nova asked. “You say something?”
“Nothing important,” he said, shaking his head. “Come on. Let’s move before we lose the trail.” He moved forward again, the snowshoes on his hooves thumping against the snow. At least they made it easier to move atop it. To a point. Then again …
He glanced at the trunk of a nearby tree as they passed. Given where the lowest branches are, the snow here is probably at least as deep as my head. Maybe deeper. And while running through it without the snowshoes wouldn’t be impossible, it’d certainly be a lot more difficult. And I’d fly, but … The wind picked up, shifting from a howl to a gale as if in answer.
Right. It’d be a pretty energy-intensive flight. Not to mention he’d end up leaving Nova behind, since the colt was on hoof.
So we slog, he thought. And that’s—
“So what do you think he’s doing?” Nova asked, voice barely audible above the sound of the wind rushing through the trees.
“What?” he asked, glancing back.
“What do you think he’s doing?” Nova asked again, still plodding along behind him. “This ‘Sombra’ guy, I mean. Is he going somewhere? Or is he just running?”
Hunter shook his head. “You’re asking the wrong pony.”
“Am I?”
The question brought him up short. “What?”
“Well, you’re a tracker, right?”
“Yeah.” He glanced at the trail. It wasn’t in danger of fading, not for at least a good ten or fifteen minutes. They could slow their pace.
“So I’ve been tracked,” Nova said. “A lot. When you’re being tracked and you know it, there’s a lot of ways to react. There’s panicked flight, there’s the not-so-smart ways, and then the smart ways.” He shifted, likely grinning beneath his armor. “Yeah, you can guess which one I went for. But what I’m saying is, sure, he’s running. But running to what? Or where? Does it feel like he’s trying to get someplace? Or lead us in circles?”
“I …” His jaw moved without making a sound, and he glanced back at the trail they’d been following. “I hadn’t even thought about it.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think about it until a moment ago,” Nova said, tapping the side of his helmet a little too hard with one snowshoe and then glaring at it. “You’re a tracker. One of the best. But you worked for the Rangers. You were tracking lost ponies, or animals, right? Not beings that didn’t want to be found, or that are trying to escape.”
“Me, though,” Nova said, still with a hint of a grin in his voice. “I was that pony.”
“So what you’re saying is … more teamwork, less leader-follower?” Hits my ego a little bit, but that’s what I get for upping myself so hard I forgot my job.
“Actually, no,” Nova said, shaking his head. “I was just asking what you thought he was up to. But when you put it that way, it sounds like a good idea. How about this, let’s keep following, but tell me first what we’re looking at. What’s the trail been like?”
“Well …” Okay, this is different, but not too different. You can do this. He started forward once more, following the trail left by Sombra. “So far it’s been a little erratic.”
“How so? Is it random?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not random. Not always.”
“Just sometimes.”
“Right.”
“Is that when he moves the fastest?”
The question almost made him stop. “It is,” he said, glancing over at him. “How’d you know?”
“Because that’s when we’re getting closest,” Nova said, eyes grim through the crust of ice on his visor. “How can you tell?”
“The drift.” He pointed at the faint impression with one wing. Frost, he noticed, had dusted the feathers. “When he moves faster it gets narrower, but the snow around it gets more disturbed. Like he’s flying faster.”
“You can see that?”
“I’m not beating it up. It is my special talent, after all.”
“All right, and that happens every time he moves randomly?”
“Yeah.”
“What about the other times?”
He thought back. “Hard to say. Some of them had a small imprint afterward, like he was moving faster, but others had a larger one.”
“Like he was going slower?”
“Spot on.”
“Hmmm …” He could barely hear Nova’s hum over the howl of the wind. “You know what that sounds like?”
“No—wait, hang on. Stopping and going. Speeding and slowing. Like a foal when they’re lost.”
“Yeah,” Nova said, nodding. “Kind of. Somepony who’s lost, but stops to look for directions.”
“Or something familiar. Then we catch up,” Hunter said. “And he bolts in a random direction.”
“Only to slow down and start looking again,” Nova added. “Think he’s got any idea where he is?”
Hunter shook his head. “No idea. The speeding up seems random. Like he’s truly confused and lost.” He frowned. “For that matter, he might not be that intelligent. You know anything about shades?”
“Nothing,” Nova said with a shake of his own head. “Aside from the name, and that it looks like a small cloud of smoke.”
“Right … Well, the trail’s moving at a steady pace now.” He could see the path winding through the trees, a faint channel through the snow, its spacing even. “Let’s keep up.”
Nova glanced up at the sky. “We still moving north?”
“Mostly. With a bit of eastern movement thrown in.” The trees opened up, the trail leading out into a small clearing.
“Really? I would have thought he’d want to head west. That’s where the city is.”
“Worried we’re following a false trail?”
“No,” Nova said with a shake of his head. “I’m worried we’re missing something.”
The trail stopped for a moment in the middle of the clearing before darting off toward the northeast. “He stopped here for a moment,” Hunter said, dragging a hoof gently over the imprint left by the shade’s passing, dragging away some of the snow that had settled atop the thin crust. “Then left in that direction. Quickly.”
“Hang on,” Nova said, as he started to move. “Wait a moment.” He stepped forward and stood roughly where the shade had stopped. “Which direction?”
“That way,” Hunter said, pointing.
“Huh.” Nova peered up at the mountain peaks, then let out a sigh. “Well, I guess it’s something. Does he always break in the same direction?”
“No.”
“Right. Wish I’d thought of this earlier, so we could see if there were any landmarks he might have been reacting to.”
Hunter thought back. “Hard to say. If there were any marks he was reacting to, they were either identical or close enough to one another that I couldn’t tell. Best I could say is one of the peaks.”
“We’re heading up the mountains.”
“Which we already knew.” Hunter said, eyeing the trail. Ahead of them, the landscape shifted, the ground breaking its mostly-level incline in favor of a steeper rise. “We might know more if he breaks east or west up ahead, though. To go around the mountain, rather than over it.” Snow crunched under his snowshoes, the thin crust cracking under his weight. The trail beckoned.
A distant rumble echoed across the sky as they continued to follow the signs of the shade’s passing. They were moving upward, now, legs burning as the snow beneath them began to tilt, rising along the side of the mountain. The trees grew thicker, the heavy boughs above them bouncing in the strong wind, the thick needles almost like small blades standing against the snow.
Where are you going, Sombra? Ahead of them, the path climbed over a small ledge, and he stopped as he reached its peak, turning to the west and eyeing the distant crystal city. It was faint, but still visible beneath the massive storm. If that’s your target, why lead us this way?
Unless you know you’re being followed. On a whim he activated his mod, peering along the trail ahead of them.
“Nothing,” he said before Nova could speak. “Just making sure.” There was nothing around them but trees, snow, and a few small, bright points of light buried beneath the pack that were probably mice, hunkering down away from the storm.
Wish we could do that, he thought as the magic haze faded from his eyes. He peered up through the trees, catching sight of The Hummingbird as it plied the path ahead of them with its lights. At least Bolt is warm in that thing.
Then again, she was also piloting a massive airship through a storm he wouldn’t want to fly in. That he could hear the shrill whine of the propellers over the howling storm was a testament to how bad the winds were. And it’s only going to get worse closer to the mountains, he thought. In fact … He slowed. Maybe that’s what’s going on?
“What?” Nova asked, tilting his head back and looking up at The Hummingbird. “Sky Bolt didn’t signal us, did she?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “But what if she’s why we’re heading north?”
“What? I don’t get it.”
“The mountains.” He pointed with one hoof. Doesn’t work as well when it’s stuck in a snowshoe. “The mountains create a lot of updrafts and downdrafts. In a storm like this, they’d be hardest to fly close to. Bolt’s been following him as best she can with those lights since we found him on that glacier, and he’s headed here, rather than toward the Crystal Empire. Where the flying is the hardest.”
“He’s trying to give us the slip.”
“Maybe?” He lowered his hoof, watching as the airship shuddered under another gust of wind. “I mean, if you were being chased by an airship—”
“Not fast enough.”
“Well, if it was,” he said. “You’d go somewhere—”
“Where it would have trouble finding me; I get it,” Nova said. “And the mountain downdrafts will make it a lot harder for The Hummingbird to do that. And the trees. So he makes it harder for us to track him.”
“I think so.”
“Well,” Nova said as they began following the trail once more. “If you’re right, then that leaves us with another question.”
“What?”
“Is he really heading for anything? Or was it just ‘the mountains’ this entire time to make it tough for the airship? Or is it both at once?”
Hunter paused to fly up a steep section of the mountainside, then turned and extended a hoof to Nova. “In other words, are we just doing exactly what he wants?”
“Or is just lucky for our target that where he wants to go is tougher for us?” Nova shrugged as he rose up alongside him. “We’d have to catch him to find out. Or wait until we can figure out his motives. Your call either way, boss.”
“For now?” He eyed the trail winding between the trees. The ground ahead only seemed steeper. Above and ahead of them, The Hummingbird was still sweeping its searchlights across the mountainside. He could feel a cold chill settling into his limbs, reaching for his core. “We keep going. A little longer, at least. I want a clear idea of where he’s going before we get out of this storm.”
They pressed on, the sky growing dark above them, wind clawing at the crevices in their armor. The chill in his limbs grew deeper, probing into his chest and stretching at his core. Cracks of lightning lit the mountains, the sound rolling off of the peaks ahead of them and back across them like waves on a beach. The snows grew thicker and deeper as they climbed. Twice more they had to stop and break ice buildup from their helmets. And all the while, the path wound north.
“I can’t tell what’s winning,” Nova said as they climbed up over another rise. “The burning in my legs, or the cold.”
“I know what you mean,” Hunter said, pausing for a moment to stretch his forelegs. “My wings feel like they’re frozen to my sides.”
“How much longer are we going to keep chasing him? We have to rest eventually.”
“I know,” Hunter said. “I was kind of hoping the same would be true for him.” He scowled under his helmet. “I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that a creature made out of smoke can’t get sore legs.” Another flash of light threw the craggy mountainside ahead of them into sharp relief, a dull crack washing over them a moment later, loud enough that Hunter felt it resonate in his chest.
“So … What are we going to do?” Nova called over the echoing rumble of the lightning. “It’s getting darker!”
“I know!” He looked up again, picking out the shape of The Hummingbird against the darkening sky. If we camp or take a break, that little smoke-thing might get further away. But if we keep chasing it, we’ll freeze to death, especially once the sun finishes setting. He scowled again. This is why I sometimes hate being in … Wait a minute.
“Hey, Hunter?”
“I see it.” The Hummingbird had turned back toward them, flashing its running lights. “She’s found something. Come on!” He began pushing forward, his legs first protesting stiffly and then just burning as he ran up the mountainside. Ahead the terrain leveled, and he let out a mental sigh of relief as he rounded the crest. A long, low shelf in the side of the mountain, bristling with thick pines, stretched before them. The Hummingbird was almost overhead, and he gave Nova a quick glance before spreading his wings.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He’d barely risen into the air when the lines of his suit flared bright green, his own weather magic struggling to keep him on course and barely succeeding. The wind picked up as he cleared the tree line, shoving him back, and he beat his wings harder to compensate, feeling the drag as the frost on his feathers sucked at the air.
Come on, Hunter, he thought as the triangular shape of The Hummingbird filled the air above him. You’ve been in worse storms.
You just didn’t fly in them, a small part of him said as he reached the side door and spilled into it, all but collapsing on the deck as warmth spilled over his body. He rose, his legs shaking, and shoved the hatch shut. The howling wind cut out at once, though he could still hear it, raging outside along with the airship’s propellers.
Part of him wanted to just lie in the warmth for a moment, to let his legs and body rest, the frost on his feathers melt and flow down onto the floor. But … he thought as his visor began to fog, the heat difference too much for the preventative spells on it. No time to be lazy. He pulled his helmet from his head, tucking it under an already damp-feathered wing, and shucked his snowshoes from his hooves. At least I’ll have to dry my wings before I dive out of this thing. Otherwise the now-melting frost, already banding together in watery clumps in his feathers, would freeze into ice. And I’d fall right out of the sky. He’d seen it happen before.
“Bolt!” he called as he stepped into the main room. It was lit dimly, The Hummingbird already having switched over to its low-light night mode. It made walking across the deck a little trickier, since the airship was rolling and swaying under the winds from the storm. Still, he could see light from the open cockpit door. “I’m here. What’s going on?”
“He stopped.” Bolt stuck her head around the hatch, only to jump back to her seat as he neared.
“He stopped?”
She nodded. “Yeah, he stopped. Burrowed down into the snow between some trees.” The roar of the propellers increased as she brought The Hummingbird around. “There,” she said, pointing.
From the air it didn’t look like much. A scattered break among many between the trees, an open space with snow howling through it. “How can you tell which one it is?” he asked. “I see a couple of breaks down there.”
“Tallest pines,” Bolt replied. He frowned.
Tallest pines? Wait a moment. “Pass me those binoculars again?” He walked right up to the edge of the glass, peering down at the small clearing. A moment later the binoculars were in his hoof, and he lifted them, taking a closer look at the space she’d pointed at. Or, more accurately, the trees around it.
“Great.” There wasn’t much more to say. “Just great.”
“What?”
He scanned the trees around the clearing a few more times, noting the small depressions in the snow, the missing lower branches on nearby trees. “Yeti,” he said, lowering the glasses. “He’s taken shelter in a camp of yeti.”
“Aren’t those—?”
“Dangerous? Yeah.” He passed the binoculars back to her. “That complicates things.”
“Aren’t we supposed to be more dangerous?”
“Sure. But when we’re tired and half-frozen? And even then, just because we’re more dangerous doesn’t mean it’s a smart idea to dive into a pack of wild yeti. Besides,” he said, turning away from the view to look at her. “It could be a diversion, too.”
“I get it,” Bolt said, nodding. “He pretends to hide, then sneaks away while we try to figure out what to do.”
“Right,” he said with a nod of his own. “Or he hides, waits for us to anger the yeti, and then slips away while we’re fighting in the confusion.”
“So it’s a trap?”
“Maybe …” he said, drawing the word out and looking down at the forest once more. “It could also be an act of desperation. Nova and I have been run ragged charging up this mountain after him. He might be as tired as we are. He doesn’t have a body, but energy is still energy, I think. Right?”
“Energy is energy,” she agreed. “If he’s moving, it’s using something.”
“Right. So maybe he’s just as tired as we are, and sneaking into a yeti camp is his way of getting some time to recuperate. Which means … if that’s what he’s doing, we have to go after him.”
“What?” Bolt’s eyes locked on him. “Why?”
“Because he’ll probably recuperate faster than we do,” he said. “Remember what Steel said about the Princesses’ warnings? He’s too much for us to handle. The only reason we’re chasing him right now is because he’s weak, but he’s going to get stronger. If we let him rest …”
“He might get stronger faster. Might.” Bolt shook her head. “Do you really want to wander into a yeti camp on that chance? I’ve never seen a yeti, but …”
“I’m not going to ‘wander in,’” he said, shaking his head. “Nova and I will check the edges first; see if we see any signs of him Sombra trying to—” Bolt flinched, and he paused. “What?”
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “His name’s just really close to … Well, you know.”
“Right. Well then, we’ll see if we see any signs of his trying to escape or having already escaped, I’ll signal you from …” He ran his eyes over the trees. “From where Nova is now. Then we can follow … Well, hang on for just a minute.” Bolt nodded as he looked back down at the mountain.
Then what? he asked. Keep chasing? Nova and I are getting pretty weary. “Our next move might depend on what direction he goes in,” he said aloud, almost nodding as he heard his own words. Yeah, that seems spot on. “If he goes west, we have to cut him off. If he goes east … we’ll retreat to The Hummingbird and follow from the air.”
“We can’t track him from here,” Bolt said quickly. “I’ve already lost him a few times. There’s too much cover.”
“But you can keep him guessing while Nova and I take a short break.” A break we need. He could already feel the heat of the airship’s interior settling into his muscles, and he shoved his mind back toward the ground. Nova’s down there, cold. No rest for you unless he gets some. “And if he’s in that camp, resting …” He shook his head. “There’s no way around it. We can’t let him rest up. We’d have to do something. Then—then—if we drive him away, we can take some rest while he’s running in a panic. If he goes east. Keep the airship on him, but rest inside. Just for a little while.” He nodded, more for his own benefit than Bolt’s. “That’s what we’re going to do.”
“I’d better get down and tell Nova,” he said, turning for the door. “Keep an eye on us, and watch out for anything out of the ordinary. If something weird happens …”
“I’ll signal you,” Bolt said.
“Just don’t wake the yeti,” he said, before ducking out of the cockpit and heading back toward the entrance, The Hummingbird rolling beneath him like a ship on the waves. He grabbed a towel as he neared the door, rubbing his wings down as quickly as he could and grimacing as the cloth pushed the feathers out of position. They’d need to be preened later, but at the moment, getting them dry was the best he could do. Pegasus feathers repelled water, but only to a certain point before becoming as bedraggled as the rest of them.
His wings mostly dry once more, he gave a quick, experimental flap, and then left the towel by the hatch before replacing his helmet and snowshoes. Here we go.
The wind tore at him as he opened the hatch, threatening to suck him away. He jumped out, beating his wings against the fury of the storm, green lines glowing across his suit as his magic was the only thing keeping him from being swept away. Hatch timer set, he tucked his wings tight, giving in and dropping like a stone toward the trees below. He stayed in free-fall for several seconds, wind whistling past him, noting how far he’d drifted to the side from the force of the storm, then opened his wings and leveled out into a fast glide, his magic flaring as he sliced through downdrafts and wind-currents.
Nova was still waiting by the edge of the mountain, his body slightly hunched and his horn glowing a pale yellow, probably to help keep him warm. Not much longer and his magic will turn blue. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but as dark as the sky was getting, sundown couldn’t be far off.
“What’s up?” Nova called as Hunter dropped to the snow, his snowshoes sinking into the first inch or so of snow before stopping.
“Yeti camp,” Hunter said. “And our quarry is right in the middle of it.”
Nova’s eyes widened. “Great. Didn’t you warn us about those things being dangerous?”
“Dangerous enough,” he said. “When it storms like this, they’ll make small shelters out of tree-branches and snow and take cover, waiting for it to blow over. Sombra burrowed into the snow in the middle of their camp.”
“Are we going after him?”
He shook his head. “We’ll circle the camp ridge first. See if it’s a diversion. If there’s any sign of him tunneling out.”
Nova nodded. “Then if there isn’t, check the camp?”
“Spot on. As a bonus, if he goes east, we can take a break for a while.”
“Ooh,” Nova said, horn still glowing. “I will drive him east for a break. I could use one.”
“You’ll have to get into The Hummingbird by rope.”
“Still worth it.”
“Right. Well then let’s circle this ridge, see if we can find any signs.” They broke west first, circling the side of the mountain and staying just outside the trees. The light grew even dimmer, the storm overhead thickening, the sun going down, or both. Bolt kept The Humminbird’s searchlights crisscrossing the snow ahead of them, but Hunter activated the lights in his own helmet just in case, letting them pan across the snows as well.
Several minutes later there was still no sign of their quarry, and as they reached the northern apex, the trees grown right up to the edge of the mountain once more, Hunter let out a sigh of relief. No sign. So he probably didn’t go this way.
Probably. They circled around the northern edge, hooves slipping against a steep, upward ridge. That and the snow patterns made the going slow, enough that they could check drifts and piles of snow brought down by small avalanches.
Still, there was no sign. Hard to tell with this much snow having come down, Hunter thought as he climbed over a large snowslide that had, from the weathering, come down the mountain a few days earlier. But it looks pretty clear.
That just left the east. They were walking south now, back toward the ridge they had come up over, the searchlights of The Hummingbird and his helmet-lamps their only light save the occasional flash of lightning. Here the trees were thinner, stretching to the east following the ridge, and they were forced to take their time, checking carefully to make sure someone or something hadn’t slipped past.
Something other than yeti, Hunter thought, his light bouncing off of another set of the bipedal creatures’ tracks. At least they were distinct from the path left by their quarry. There was no way to mistake—
He stopped as something about the tracks caught his eye. Nearby, Nova noticed the movement and crouched into a ready position.
“What’d you find?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the storm. “Sombra’s track?”
“No,” Hunter said, shaking his head as he took a closer look at the tracks. “This is something different.” A series of parallel tracks marred the snow ahead of him, distorted by half-a-day’s worth of weathering. And inside them, a second, smaller set of tracks.
Another yeti? He bent down closer, playing his light over the tracks. Whatever it was, it turned back. Another pack? That would make sense. Competition for a prime camping spot, and the other group got here first.
“I think it was more yetis,” he said, pushing himself back up and brushing snow from his forelegs. “There’s a second set of tracks that turns away. Another, smaller pack looking for a good campsite, probably. Let’s move on.” Nova nodded, and they went back to looking for signs of the shade’s passage.
Before long, they were back at their starting point on the edge of the ridge. They hadn’t found any sign of Sombra’s passage. More importantly, the track that had led them to the ridge was still faintly visible.
“Right then,” Hunter said, looking at Nova. “The camp it is.”
“Okay …” Nova said, his eyes following the track in the snow. Maybe what practice in snow tracking he’d been given had stuck. “Question first: I’ve never fought a yeti before. Anything I should target first?”
“Right.” Of course he would have no idea how to fight a yeti. I gave them a bare rundown what, two days ago? Longer? “They’re faster than they look, and their claws are pretty sharp and tough. Teeth too. But they’re bipedal.”
“So go for the legs.”
“Yeah. Take their legs out from under them. It’s tricky, though, because their arms—foreleg kinda—are pretty long, but it will trip them up.”
“Are they easy to hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not really. They can’t take a hit the way a pony or even a minotaur can, but they’re not frail either. Best target is their gut, the front of the neck, or between the legs if they’re male.”
“So fighting dirty.”
“Hey, they’re not smart enough to vocalize a cheap shot, then I don’t see a problem with taking it. ‘Sides, I’ve seen their claws hit an unsuspecting pony. It ain’t pretty.”
“Are they carnivores?” Nova asked.
“Omnivorous. They eat both. The claws are just really good at peeling bark off of branches, breaking ice, and cutting an attacker or prey to shreds. On the plus side,” he said, nodding down the path as another gust of wind howled over them. “In a storm like this, they’re all going to be hunkered inside their shelters. If we’re quiet and don’t step on one of them, they might let us pass without taking a look. If they think the camp is threatened though, especially any young …”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence. He could see from the expression on Nova’s face that he understood the implications of any creature that perceived a threat to its young.
“But if we do bother them,” he said. “With luck they’ll settle for posturing; try and drive us away from the camp. Unless they’re convinced that we’re a greater threat than the storm, that’s probably all they’ll do.”
“We won’t get to Sombra if that happens, though,” Nova cut in. “Also, the shelters?”
“They weave branches. They’ll look like domes covered in snow. I’ll point them out. But yeah, with luck, it won’t come to that, and we’ll just drive Sombra out and east. But …” Gotta account for everything going wonky, though … “If they do get aggressive, retreat west. With luck they’ll attack Sombra too. If we pull west, that means he can’t follow our tracks, or we’ll corral him between us and the yetis.”
“Unless they can’t harm him,” Nova pointed out.
“Eh, even so we’d still be between him and his goal. West is the fallback. Fighting fallback. If we’re attacked, the males will charge, the females will protect the young. Get to the edge of the camp as quickly as possible, then take out the ones that charge. Once we’re out of the camp and we’ve shown that pursuit is dangerous, they’ll stand down. Again,” he said, looking at him. “If we stir up trouble. Just follow me, and we shouldn’t have any problems.” He began to move into the trees, following the shade’s faint trail.
“Have you done this before?” Nova asked, falling in behind him.
“Sneak into a yeti camp? Yeah. More than once.” A shudder ran through his body, unrelated to the cold, as old memories rolled back at him. “Just … don’t chinwag or make much noise, and we’ll be fine.”
The path wound through the trees, deviating slightly from side to side but otherwise staying mostly on track. Beneath the trees it was both easier and harder to follow—easier because the rush of falling snow had to make it past innumerable branches to cover the trail, but harder because what snow was underhoof had long since frozen over into a thick crust, making the impressions left by the passage of the shade even harder to detect.
They moved deeper into the cluster of trees, light around them growing dim, their path illuminated only by the lights from his helmet and the occasional pass of The Hummingbird. Or an errant blast of lightning. The shadows, meanwhile, seemed all the darker for what little light they had.
Still, it didn’t prevent him from spotting the first sign that they were nearing the yeti camp. Fresh slashes marred the bark of a nearby tree, the pale flesh of the wood bright against the otherwise dark skin. He walked up close to it, eyeing the cuts.
A couple of hours ago, roughly, he thought as he spotted the dried sap, the frost and snow stuck to the splinters. But not for food or shelter. The mark was strictly a territorial one, and from a large male too. Maybe seven feet high, Hunter thought, a faint crawling sensation working its way down his spine. Pack leader, maybe. Either way, it was big.
They spotted more signs as they moved forward. Stripped bark laying in piles atop the snow where the yeti had peeled it in long strips before eating the soft, inner layer. Lower branches that had been broken free to serve as shelters. He spotted the first of those moments later, a soft, rounded half-dome poking above the snow. He pointed it out to Nova before moving on.
“That thing’s not very big,” Nova said, his voice so quiet Hunter had to pause in his steps to keep the crunch of snow from obscuring it. “How small are these things?”
“They’re big,” he said, moving close. “The dome?” He pointed at the disheveled snow around the edges and then motioned his hoof downward. “Dug out.”
Nova’s eyes widened. “How far?”
“To the ground, usually.”
“We’re in what … six feet of snow?”
“Maybe more.”
“Right …” he heard Nova mutter as he led them well around the dome. “Okay then.” Ahead of them the trail continued in a straight line, moving for a break in the trees surrounded by at least half-a-dozen of the domes. And in the center of that …
A single bit of black crystal, poking out of the snow.
Another faint chill crawled down Hunter’s spine. Another one of those black crystals. He shifted his wings as his heart began to pick up the pace. That must have something to do with his regeneration. He glanced at the nearby domes. None of them were near the crystal, instead clustered near trees or otherwise out of the open. And away from the worst of the storm, he thought. Which serves as a nice barrier for Sombra. He took another step forward, his mane prickling. If we just—
“Stop.” Nova’s quiet voice froze him in place, though he didn’t want to. He felt like he needed to run, to move, to—
“Relax,” Nova said, his horn glowing a very, very faint blue. “Hunter, I feel it too. It’s magic. Emotion magic.”
Wha—No … He took a step back, glancing down at his hooves. We felt the same thing at the last crystal. It’s just stronger now. “Magic fear?”
“A field,” Nova said, nodding.
“Why isn’t it affecting the yeti?” He stayed still, one hoof above the snow.
Nova shook his head. “I don’t know. But don’t move. There’s more than that. There’s a ring of some kind.”
“Trap?”
“Most likely.”
“Can you disable it?”
“Maybe?” Nova’s horn glowed a little lighter. “It’s not familiar to me. It’s doing the same thing the last one was doing though. Pushing out that fear and sucking in nearby magic.”
“Well … we can’t let him do that.”
“No,” Nova said, the blue light at the end of his horn winking out. “Any ideas?”
“Pulsing him worked last time.”
“Except we didn’t take advantage of it.”
“True dinkum. That, and last time we didn’t have guests.” He glanced at the nearby domes. That’s nine of them. Big pack. And they’d be hungry too, with winter coming on. Plus, if Sombra can make us feel afraid …
Big pack and terrified. We’re being outsmarted by a floating cloud of smoke.
“We could always throw rocks at it.”
Hunter gave Nova what he hoped looked like an unamused glare beneath his helmet. “Are we back to that again? And let the Princesses hear that their very expensive unit of elite guard resort to that first?”
“Hey, if it works—”
“I didn’t say it was a bad idea. Just don’t let the Princesses hear about it.” But it could work. It might shatter that thing. “We’d have to find a rock first.” And every second we spend thinking he’s recovering. “What about blasting it?”
“Just blasting it?”
Hunter shrugged. “Can you?”
“Yeah, but I have no idea what might happen.” Nova lowered his voice as the storm shifted for a moment, the wind dying before returning in force and sweeping a flurry of snow across the clearing. “There are spells I don’t know on it.” He shook his head, snow falling from his helmet. “Active spells. Give me a few minutes and I might be able to identify some of them, but—”
“Do it.” It was risky letting the shard just sit there, poking out of the snow and pulsing with a strange light, but it was better than doing nothing. Or diving in to land without checking the ground. He took a slow step back, making sure to keep his center of balance low and at the ready as Nova went to work, horn glowing.
A minute passed, and then another. “Any luck?” he whispered.
Nova shook his head. “I’m seeing some familiar spellwork, but it’s all …”
“Archaic?”
“I was going to say weird. I can see some familiar stuff, but there’s a lot here I don’t understand. And there’s a lot of—” He shivered, a tremor running down the unicorn’s back. “A lot of dark magic here, from what I can see.”
“You okay?” Hunter asked.
“I’m fine,” Nova said, another shiver running down his back. “It’s just … not pretty. There’s emotion bound up in this. Hate, fear … it’s so raw. It’s like … like sticking your hoof into oil. It’s black, sludgy, and you can feel it soaking into your coat—” Nova’s voice was getting louder, not by a lot, but by a little.
“Nova, pull back.”
“I’ve almost got it.” Something was bubbling at the tip of Nova’s horn, something that seemed to soak up all available light, oozing across the pale blue field like a rot.
“Pull back now, private. That’s an order.”
With a gasp, Nova snapped his head back, the magic field around his horn winking out with a faint pop. The black miasma seemed to hang in the air a moment longer before breaking apart and fading as well.
Nova dropped back on his haunches, and Hunter was next to him in an instant. “Nova?” he asked, grabbing the colt’s helmet and swinging it around so that he could get a look at his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Nova said, blinking and then pushing Hunter’s hoof away. “I just … Princess Luna has shown me dark magic before, but that …”
“Bad?”
Nova nodded. “Luna was a stream. Just a warning, so I could recognize it.” He tilted his horn in the direction of the crystal. “That … was an ocean. I’ve never felt anything like it. So much … hate. Anger. Madness.” He shivered again.
“Are you alright?” Hunter cocked his head to one side, checking Nova’s horn and then eyes again. Both looked clear. If Sombra got inside his head …
“I’m okay. None of it got on me. I was careful. But … you were right to tell me to pull back. I … I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Did you recognize anything? Anything that could help?” Hunter let out a faint breath he almost hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He looks okay.
“Not much,” Nova said quietly, shaking his head. “Some of it was familiar, but … different. Maybe older versions of spells? But there was something else there. I’m not sure what it was. But it was powerful, and entwined into the spell itself.”
“Powerful? That doesn’t make sense. He’s supposed to be weak, unless …” He paused. Unless he was a shade, a being of magic with no body, and—
“Feathers,” he said, spinning to look at the crystal.
“What?” Nova asked, dropping into a combat stance. The crystal looked just the same as it had moments ago.
“Maybe nothing …” he said as he watched the crystal shape pulse. “But doesn’t it seem strange to you how much power you felt in that magic when he’s supposed to be weak?”
Nova’s eyes widened. “Maybe it’s a trap?”
“We know it’s a trap,” Hunter said. The crystal continued to pulse. “But he’s a shade, a being of magic. What if all that hatred you felt wasn’t the spell, but him?”
“That’s …” Nova’s voice trailed off. “Not impossible. And if it isn’t, then he—”
“Might already know we’re here,” Hunter said. “Maybe. But it’s not a chance I want to take.” He reached inside himself, readying his mod. “So here’s what we’re going to—”
A black wave exploded out of the point of the crystal, rolling across the clearing so quickly he barely had time to spread his wings before it washed over him. A cold chill, colder than anything he’d ever felt seemed to roll across his body, stealing his breath and cutting into his very soul. His muscles locked, his wings half-extended, and for a moment, he wanted to do nothing more than flee, flee as fast as his locked body could exert itself.
But he couldn’t move. The cold wave faded, the fear abating, but his muscles were still stiff, unresponsive. Paralyzation spell, he thought, recognizing the effects. And a strong one.
Still, he could feel the edge of one wing twitching, thousands of pinpricks rolling down it in a wave as sensation returned. In a few moments more he’d be able to move. He willed his limbs to shift, trying to speed the process.
The snow around him rippled, something speeding through the surface. A low rumble filled the air, the sound of dozens of growls working in unison. He pushed at his limbs harder, shouting in his mind for them to move as long, thick claws rose through the nearest snow dome, shoving the shelter aside in a shower of powder and clumps of snow. The shaggy shoulders of a yeti, eyes glowing with some internal fire, rose through the opening, then narrowed on him.
Then, with a howl, it leapt.