The titan stepped away from the ice sphere and spoke a mystical command word. The inky wisps inside coalesced into the image of a winter night, with the Boreal Lights stretched across the darkness like a curtain of gossamer color. The lights danced for a moment, then a white cloud churned up from the orb's depths to engulf them in a raging blizzard. An instant later, the jagged tip of a mountain appeared in the storm.
The peak grew larger until its massive bulk completely filled the interior of the orb-then the sphere seemed to pass inside the mountain. The crag was made not of stone, but of blue clear ice, and it was streaked with the gemlike colors of the Boreal Lights. The globe drifted downward, following the dancing aura deeper into the mountain, until it reached a pool of crimson blood frozen in the ancient ice at the heart of the mountain.
In the center of the red stain, suspended in the ice, hung a slick-furred corpse that seemed part otter and part human. The figure had a slender body, broad flat arms ending in flip-perlike hands with long fingers, and feet turned outward to resemble a whale's fluke. On his chest lay a necklace of five crystals, and from each crystal shot one of the Boreal Lights.
"The ice mountain stands near the center of the Great Glacier," said Lanaxis. A chill as cold as his magical orb ran down his spine, for the titan hated the glacier as he hated nothing else on Toril. "To save Ostoria, we must go there and exhume Ulutiu, so that we may crush his necklace."
'That will be easier said than done," hissed Ottar. As the frost giant spoke, a cloud of vaporous breath spewed from his blue lips, then rose to obscure his white face and icy blue eyes. "The Great Glacier is vast, and the Eternal Blizzard will not make it easy for us to find our way."
"Leave the storm to me!" blustered Vilmos, paramount of storm giants. He was almost as large as a titan, with violet skin and a flowing beard of silver "But what about the glacier itself? After we reach the mountain, we'll never chop through all that ice. It could be ten thousand feet thick!"
It was Nicias, the cloud giant, who answered. "The ice does not concern me, my brother." His voice was as wispy as his white hair. 'Together, we Sons of Annam can accomplish much."
Lanaxis smiled broadly, pleased to have the support of so many brothers. "Nicias, you speak truly and wisely, as always."
Nicias nodded politely, then went on. "But I wonder if we should be asking how to reach Ulutiu's grave, rather than whether to reach it. Deceiving Othea is not something to undertake lightly. Good sons venerate their mother."
"If our mother loved us, she would have stopped the glacier before it took half our lands!" ranted the fire giant Masud. "I'm for Lanaxis's plan, and into the forge with Othea!" The khan's skin was as black as coal and his beard as orange as flame. When he spoke, he filled the air with sul-furous fumes, but the choking cloud did not stop the other giants from croaking out a chorus of support.
Nicias raised his white brow and glanced around the veranda, then spread his hands in abdication. "It appears the question has been considered and decided." The cloud giant cast a disparaging glance in Masud's direction. "But I do trust that your comment about throwing the Mother Queen into the forge was mere exaggeration."
Why should it be?" demanded Dunmore, his disgust plainly etched on his wooden features. "If you would disobey Othea, you would do anything."
"We have no wish to harm her." Ottar's cold eyes showed no emotion as he answered the wood giant. "Nor do we wish her to harm our empire."
Othea gave life to our races! What is an empire compared to that?" Dunmore retorted. "If the Mother Queen asked, I would tear my palace apart with my own hands."
"And I would burn it for you!" scoffed Masud. "But does that mean I'm fool enough to do the same? I think not!"
The fire giant's retort drew a few amused chuckles.
Dunmore shook his head sadly, then glared up into the faces of his brothers. "I will have no part of this." The thane stepped away from his brothers, then announced, "Now I will drink from the Well and take my leave."
"You may drink from the Well of Health," said Lanaxis The Sons of Annam customarily drank from the Well of Health before departing Bleak Palace, since the magical waters kept the mind clear and the body free of illness. "But you cannot depart. I fear you intend to tell Othea of our plans, so I insist that you remain here until we return. My servants will see to your comfort."
"Lanaxis, you are too kind." The wood giant's voice was as bitter as sapwood.
The titan smiled, then looked toward the three cavernous archways leading into the interior of his palace. "Julien, Arno!" he yelled. "Come here, I have a task for you!"
As Lanaxis called for his servant, Dunmore spun and hurled himself at the magical ice orb, smashing into it with a tremendous crash. The sphere shattered into a hundred pieces, releasing a howling tempest of wind and snow Blinded by the raging blizzard, the Sons of Annam bellowed in surprise and began to stumble about, filling the air with crashes and grunts as they collided with each other.
Lanaxis dropped to all fours and crawled toward the center of the room, sweeping his hands back and forth through the accumulating snow. A heavy foot came down on his wrist, and when he jerked his hand free, a giant crashed to the floor beside him. The titan ignored the fellow and continued to sweep his hand across the floor until he found a shard of the ice orb. Taking the fragment in hand, he spoke the sphere's command word, this time backward. The raging wind died away, and the snow began to settle on the floor in a thick blanket. As the confusion faded, a pair of legs kicked through the snow and stopped beside Lanaxis.
"You called?" asked Julien's smooth voice.
"We come, fast!" added Arno. His voice was a stark contrast to Julien's, gravelly and harsh. "What need?"
The titan raised his eyes and found himself looking at the contrasting faces of his two-headed servant, the ettin. Julien's features were swarthy and handsome, with curly dark hair and a cleft chin. Arno was a pale-skinned brute, with a pug nose and double chin encrusted with reminders of his last several meals. Their necks descended to a single point, joining atop a broad-shouldered body that, at Julien's insistence, they kept reasonably clean.
Lanaxis rose, looking around the veranda for the thane. The only sign he found of the wood giant was a set of half-buried footprints leading to one entrance of Bleak Palace.
"It seems Dunmore has left," observed Nicias. "No doubt to do as you feared and tell Othea of our intent."
The giants were silent, for they all knew how great the Mother Queen's anger would be when she heard of their plan.
"I'll go," said Masud. The khan started for the archway. "It won't take me long to stop that runt."
Nicias caught the smaller giant's shoulder. "The Sons of Annam do not fight each other."
"Nor do they betray the confidences of their brothers!" Masud raised his fiery eyes to seek support from Lanaxis. "For that, I say we throw him in the smelter!"
"There's no need to incinerate him," replied the titan. "Just bring him back, and the ettin will hold him here."
"No! There will be a struggle when Masud captures him." Nicias continued to clutch the shoulder of the fire giant. "Dunmore will be injured-perhaps killed."
"Better that than let him go!" boomed Lanaxis. "If Dun-more tells Othea of our plans, none of us will ever set foot on the Great Glacier, and Ostoria will be lost!"
"If we attack our own brother, or even hold him prisoner, We have lost it already," said Nicias. "I will not stand for that."
"And I will not let the glacier scour our empire from the world!" Lanaxis fixed an angry glare on Nicias.
The cloud giant returned the stare. In Nicias's eyes there was no anger or fear, only determination, and Lanaxis knew his foe would never concede the argument. The titan's anger grew hotter than Masud's forges, and his fists burned with the urge to strike, but he locked his arms at his sides and kept them there. Many other giants held Nicias in high esteem, and to strike the dynast would be to cast Ostoria into a carnage that would destroy it as surely as the Great Glacier.