mane as it ambled past. "Dorigen will guide you to my wicked son. Do teach him a lesson." The old wizard cackled heartily. He had spent many private hours in this extra-dimensional region. He had actually created the place while studying in the Edificant Library. Aballister's biggest
concerns at that time were the hovering priests always looking over his shoulder, making sure that his work was in accord with their strict rules. Little did they know that Aballister had circumvented then-watchful gazes, had created this extra pocket of real space so that he could continue his most precious, if most dangerous, experiments.
That had been more than two decades before when Cad-derly was a babe, and when, the wizard mused, the leonine monster and the three-headed beast behind it were also babes.
Aballister laughed aloud at the thought: he was sending two of his children out to kill the third.
The two powerful beasts followed Aballister out of the room and out of another door in the extradimensional mansion that led to the rocky ridge above Castle Trinity, where Dorigen, her crystal ball in hand, waited.
*****
"We are too high up," Vander protested as the party trudged along a narrow mountain trail more than halfway up a twelve-thousand foot peak. A few scraggly branches, bare of leaves, dotted the trail, but mostly the place was wind-carved rock, ridged in some places, polished smooth hi others. In this place, winter had already come in full. The snow lay deep, and the wind's bite, despite Cadderl/s magical protection spells, forced the companions to continually rub their hands to keep their fingers from growing numb. The narrow trail was mostly bare to the stone, at least, perpetually windblown so that little snow had found a hold there.
"We must stay far from the lower trails," Cadderly replied, having to yell to be heard through the growling wind. "Many goblins and giantkin are about, fleeing Shilmista in search of their mountain holes."
"Better to face them than what we might find up here," Vander argued. The booming voice of the twelve-foot-tall giant, thick red beard crusted by blowing ice, had no trouble cutting through the din of the wind. "You do not know the creatures of the lands where the snow does not melt, young priest" The rugged firbolg was talking from some experience, it seemed, and the dwarves, Shayleigh, and Danica looked to Cadderly, hopeful that Vender's warning might carry some influence.
"Yeah, like that big bird I spotted, floating on the winds a mile away," Ivan put in.
"It was an eagle," Cadderly insisted, though only Ivan had actually seen the soaring creature. "Some of the eagles in the Snowflakes are quite large, and I doubt..."
"A mile away?" Ivan balked,
"I doubt that it was a mile," Cadderly finished, to which Ivan only shook his yellow-haired head, adjusted his helmet, which sported a pair of deer antlers, and cast a less-than-friendly glare Cadderly*s way.
By that time, Cadderly had found a new person to argue with, as Danica came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her grim expression and recognized at once that she was in agreement with the others.
"I fear no monsters," she explained defensively, for she alone understood the pains the young priest had endured to get this quest underway. "But the land here is treacherous, and the wind uncomfortable at best. A slip on the ice could send one of us tumbling down the mountainside." Danica looked up the slope to their right and continued ominously, "And the snow hangs thick above us."
Cadderly did not have to follow her upward gaze to understand that she was referring to the very real threat of an avalanche. They had passed the remnants of a dozen such disasters, though most were old, probably from last year's spring melt
Cadderly took a deep breath and reminded himself of his secret purpose in being up this high, and he remained adamant The snow here is seasonal," he replied, celling ahead to Vander. "Except for the very tops of the mountains, where we shall not go."
Vander started to protest - Cadderly expected that the firbolg would argue that these fearful snow creatures might easily come down from the mountaintops when the snow lay so deep. He had barely uttered the first syllable of protest, though, when Cadderly interrupted him with a telepathic message, a magical plea that the firbolg lead on without further argument, that standing and talking only delayed the time when they could go back down to more