He saw no way to stop her, and if he did, he had no way to save her.
The next dawn, Chap was too exhausted to help pull the sled. Leesil was no better, and Chap bullied him onto the sled before turning to trot beside it. There was nothing but endless white all around them.
Then the sled suddenly stopped.
Chap staggered three more steps before he saw the sled lines lying limp in the snow. He quickly looked ahead, terrified that Magiere had finally let go. But she stood there, perfectly still except for the rising wind pulling at her coat’s fur. Another storm was coming. Chap lunged toward her but halted before getting far enough to see her face.
Out beyond Magiere was a cluster of small domed ice dwellings. A group of dogs were curled up in the snow beside the largest dome. It was a camp of Wastelanders, likely on their way to the coast.
One dog raised its head and looked out at them. It began to growl and then snarl. Another looked up, and then another.
Leesil called out, “Why have we stopped?”
Magiere bolted over the snow.
Chap froze an instant too long in indecision, and Magiere charged at full speed without the weight of the sled holding her back.
Leesil shouted this time. “Magiere!”
Chap had no time to warn Leesil and took off running. He should have known what could happen.
Magiere knew him, knew Leesil, and that was all that kept her in check. With that other half of her dominant for so long, the real half of her had weakened, grown exhausted. The dhampir within her could feel this.
She dove straight for the nearest dog.
Leesil got out one hoarse, cracked shout as the world in front of Chap exploded into yelps and snarls. Magiere went rolling in a tangle with a dog amid screeching yelps and the sound of breaking bones. All the other dogs leaped up in fear, thrashing against their leashes.
Magiere came up atop the first one, slammed its head down, and bit into its throat.
Another dog attacked her from behind.
She lashed back at the second dog, snapped upright on her knees, and took it head-on as the first one lay limp and twitching in the snow. The second tried to snap at her face, and she grabbed its snout. A muffled crackle of bone was smothered in a squeal of pain. When she wrenched its head aside to get at its throat, its neck broke, and it went silent.
She hesitated, staring at the lifeless corpse in her grip no longer able to feed her. With a jerk of her head and her blood-smeared face, her fully black eyes fixed on another dog trying to get out of reach. She dropped the corpse and scrambled on all fours.
“No!” Leesil screamed from somewhere close.
Chap charged in and threw himself at Magiere. It was not the dogs he feared for but something—someone—else that would be called by their noise.
Even as he tried to get his teeth into the back of Magiere’s coat, she fell atop the third dog, pinning it amid snarls. It yelped and growled, thrashing beneath her. Chap latched his jaws on Magiere’s shoulder and bit as hard and deep as he could.
Something struck his side, and she bucked him off. He flopped across the snow, and when he struggled up in renewed pain ...
People stood outside the main dome.
Magiere whipped around and focused on them.
Short and covered in bulky fur clothing, they looked at her twisted white features, spattered and smeared in their dogs’ blood. Magiere shot to her feet, and as she lunged, Chap scrambled in behind her.
He’d barely gotten a grip on her ankle when Leesil cut around in front of her and struck out with his fist, catching her across the jaw. That would not have done anything if Chap had not wrenched her leg as well.
Magiere toppled over Chap and crushed him down as she fell. He thrashed out from under her legs.
Leesil stood there panting and shuddering in the icy wind. He already had one winged blade gripped in his good hand as Chap wheeled to face Magiere.
She rolled to her hands and knees among the corpses of the dogs. All of the other animals had run off. Drops of blood fell from her hanging head to spatter the snow-crusted ice between her mittened hands. Chap could not tell whether the blood was hers or that of her prey, even when she lifted her head and ... there was white around her large black irises.
She swallowed hard in confusion and then gagged. Chap stiffened when he thought he saw the whites of her eyes vanish. She looked aside at the bloodied, twisted body of a dog, and she screamed, heaving out gasps as she tried to scuttle away only to encounter another corpse.
Her eyes rolled up, and she collapsed.
Leesil rushed in as Chap looked all around. There was no sign of the inhabitants of this place. He spotted only dim forms in the distance that vanished amid snow whipped up by the wind. He had no time for self-loathing at what he’d let happen to them.
Chap barked loudly at Leesil, lunged toward the ice dome’s entrance, and returned to help Leesil drag Magiere. There was an oil lamp still lit inside. A half-eaten meal lay out on wood planks, and the floor was covered in furs and bedding. Using his one good arm, Leesil managed to get Magiere’s prone form laid out and covered with furs.
She was barely breathing.
Leesil tried to wipe the blood off her face. All Chap could do was watch, not knowing which half of her would be there when—if—she opened her eyes again. He glanced once toward the shelter’s entrance.
Somewhere out there, families fled in terror amid a rising wind and falling darkness. They would only run all the more if he went after them. A monster, like those shadows in the blizzards spoken of by their ancestors, had come for them. And he had let it happen, acting too late.
By dawn the dogs would not be the only victims of his failure.
Chap laid his head upon his forepaws and watched Magiere as Leesil tried to rouse her. It did not—would not—work. Chap could not be certain, but he feared that swallowing the ancient’s fluids had done something to Magiere. How else could she have remained changed for so long?
But the instant she had reverted to herself, horror at what she had done struck her. And the worst of it was that after remaining in such a state for so long, feeding on the dogs was the only reason she still lived ... for now.
Chap would never tell her about the villagers, and neither would Leesil. This would not stop her from knowing, if she ever awakened and saw where they were. It wasn’t her fault, and yet it was. Was she even two halves anymore, or now the whole of something else?
“Where’s Chap?”
His head snapped up at that weak, faltering whisper. Leesil quickly leaned in where he knelt next to Magiere.
“He’s here,” he said. “We’re both right here.”
Without rising, Chap scrambled closer and shoved his muzzle in against Magiere’s cheek. No matter Leesil’s attempt to clean her—he still smelled blood on her breath.
“Why did you do this?” Leesil whispered in anguish. “Why didn’t you let it go and come back sooner?”
Chap felt Magiere’s fingers trying to tangle in his fur.
Her voice grew even weaker as she answered, “I couldn’t lose you ... either of you.”
Chap buried his head in the crook of Magiere’s neck. He heard only Leesil’s shaking breaths as he laid his head on his wife’s chest. Any relief was short-lived, for Chap couldn’t stop thinking of all that had changed.
Dawn came late.
Still weakened, Magiere rose with Leesil’s aid, but this only confirmed Chap’s decision. For all he could think of was a delusion left behind in Magiere’s homeland.
He had seen an image of her in that sorcery-induced state, as she stood in black-scaled armor before a horde of undead and other creatures in the dark. She had led them into a forest where everything died in their—her—wake.
He knew of her birth and how it had been accomplished through sacrificing one member of each of the five races, along with her undead father. He knew her birth had been intended to create the impossible, a being of both life and death who could match even the most potent undead. And the Ancient Enemy of many names had wormed into her dreams to lead her to the first orb.