"I am Brittain of the White Bear clan. This is my village. What do you want here?" the leader asked.

Trained in the formalities of Qualinesti greeting rituals, Tanis matched the Ice Folk leader's ceremonial tone. "We have come to the rescue of two friends, kidnapped by an evil man and brought to the Icereach. We fear for their lives-and the lives of the Ice Folk-if he is not stopped."

His men murmured, but the leader didn't move. The wind ruffled the white fur at the edge of his hood. His glance flicked from half-elf to the Kernan, then to the owls. "I believe you are lying. I believe you are an emissary of this evil one of whom we have heard much. I believe that you and your followers seek to learn about yet another village of The People so that you can take this knowledge back to the evil one and his hordes of bull men, walrus men, and two-headed slaves." Brittain scowled. "You are our prisoners." He gestured, and a squad of armed Ice Folk strode forward, grabbing Tanis and Caven by the arms.

"Don't struggle," Tanis whispered to Caven. "We must convince them that we mean no harm. We don't have time to fight another battle."

Caven glared and set his feet in the snow. "I'm a man, half-elf. I will not be taken without a fight!"

Tanis sighed. For a moment, he locked gazes with Brittain. He was surprised to note humor creep into the leader's brown eyes. However, that hint of goodwill, unless he imagined it, was gone as quickly as it had come.

At that instant, Xanthar, Golden Wing, and Splotch stepped forward. Xanthar lifted his head and trilled, and the giant owls in the field beyond turned and massed into lines. As one, they dipped their heads in unmistakable greeting. Xanthar, Golden Wing, and Splotch leaned forward and plucked the hands of the Ice Folk captors from the arms of the half-elf and Kernan.

Brittain signaled to his followers. "These great birds are not of the Icereach…" he said tentatively.

"They are from the north, as are we. They desire only good, as do we."

Brittain smiled at last. "We shall see."

"They come at the behest of Xanthar, who is their elder and leader, not at the call of the evil one."

Brittain's smile broadened. "We shall see," he repeated. "You are hardly dressed for the Icereach. Indeed, the evil one would have more sense."

Xanthar trilled again, and Tanis, turning toward the owl, felt a familiar sensation within his mind. Could the bird still speak telepathically? Had he the strength? Caven's own expression was surprised. Brittain, too, seemed alert to some message.

"Grandfather owl," Brittain murmured respectfully. "The People revere the aged, and you appear to have much wisdom."

Xanthar's eyes were closed. His claws gripped the snow so tightly that it melted beneath him. He was concentrating with all his dwindling power, Tanis could see. The telepathy flickered in the half-elf's brain again.

"The…the…"

It faded and returned. Xanthar staggered with the effort as Golden Wing and Splotch hurried to his side.

"The lovers… three, the… spell-cast maid. Xanthar took a shuddering breath and leaned against the two owls.

"Tanis!" Caven hissed. "The dream! What's he doing?"

"The winged one of loyal soul," the owl continued. He opened rheumy eyes for an instant. That's me, half-elf.

Tanis, too, recited. " 'The foul undead of Darken Wood, The vision seen in scrying bowl. Evil loosed with diamond's flight.' "

Caven joined in on the second stanza. To Tanis's surprise, Brittain spoke in concert on the third.

"The lovers three, the spell-cast maid, The tie of filial love abased. Foul legions turned, the blood flows free, Frozen deaths in snow-locked waste. Evil vanquished, gemstone's might."

The last syllable faded, and the tickling in Tanis's mind ended. Xanthar swayed against Golden Wing for a moment, then he sighed and slumped to the snow. By the time Tanis and Caven had reached him, the giant owl was dead.

A cry of despair rose from Golden Wing, Splotch, and the other owls. Caven swore violently. Tanis was silent. Tears welled in his eyes as hundreds of owls trilled and keened behind him. He felt a hand on his arm and shook it off, thinking it was Caven's, but the hand returned and Tanis looked up. It was Brittain.

"I, too, had a dream," the Ice Folk leader whispered, "many weeks ago, before the evil one destroyed the first village. The Revered Cleric said the dream, sent to warn us, came from the great polar bear. Since then the evil one has taken many of The People." His brown eyes studied Tanis for a moment, the pressure of his hand increasing on Tanis's arm. "You cry real tears for your friend. I am convinced."

Brittain barked orders, and his followers hurried forward to raise Xanthar's body. Leaving the mourning owls on the icy plain, Tanis and Caven accompanied the Ice Folk into the village.

Women and men scurried right and left to accommodate the newcomers. Brittain's wife, Feledaal, gave orders to a crew of women and children who were concocting a vat of fish chowder.

"Prepare for the funeral of a great warrior," Brittain commanded a man in a robe decorated with beads of pebbles and bird bones. "Our Revered Cleric," Brittain indicated respectfully after the man had bowed and hurried off, his beads clicking. "He interprets our dreams and fashions our frostreavers, among other things. Although I am master of our glacier-bound life and the Revered Cleric pretends to follow my dictates, he controls all things spiritual. Thus I sometimes suspect our Revered Cleric has more real power than I do."

Tanis and Caven were speedily equipped with clothing for a glacial climate-fur parkas, sealskin boots lined with fur and sealed with walrus oil, and thick mittens. The travelers also received a strip of leather with slits cut in the front, and Brittain showed Tanis how to position the slits before his eyes and tie the ends behind his head. "To guard against snow blindness during the brightest part of the days," Brittain explained.

Brittain told Tanis he would take him on a tour of the village. Caven, on the other hand, surprised them both by gathering some of the village's warriors and heading back into the area south of the village. "I will show these Ansalon-bound rustics how trained soldiers can fly," he explained stoutly, tying his leather strip around his head.

Brittain pointed toward the largest construction in the village, a dwelling of packed snow and ice topped with white fur and snow. "We gather there for discussions that affect the future of The People," Brittain said. He motioned to two children who leaned against the side of the building and watched the activity with solemn eyes. The rest of the Ice Folk children wore their hair long, but these youngsters' brown locks had been shorn just below the ears. Their face bore smudges of gray and white ash. Neither child smiled. At Brittain's gesture, they came swiftly over, their gazes never leaving the half-elf.

"You must forgive their stares. We have heard of the pointed-eared people to the north, but we have not seen them in this village. Terve, Haudo," he said, his voice gentle, "this is Tanis Half-Elven. He has come to help us fight the evil one." The boy nodded; the girl said nothing. Brittain dismissed them, sending them to help with the food preparation.

"They are in mourning, as you can tell," he explained as soon as the children were out of earshot. "We received from them our first word of the evil one's rapacity. Their parents were killed, and the rest of their village, too."

Tanis turned back toward the children, but they had vanished into a hut. "What do you know of the size and nature of the Valdane's forces?" he asked. Then, at Brittain's quizzical expression, he explained that the Valdane was the name by which he knew the "evil one."