winter, leaving the sky stained by the pink afterglow of its light. And low over the horizon the pristine brilliance of the Even Star shone out as the day faded.
Thirrin looked at Oskan as he gazed at the star. “Why were you so determined to come with me to the Kingdom of the Snow Leopards, Oskan?”
He turned to look at her, a slight frown on his face. “If you fail, Thirrin, and you die trying to make an alliance with Tharaman-Thar, then the Icemark will be lost, and Scipio Bellorum and all he stands for will rule in the land. Rationality, science, industry, progress. All fine things in their own right and when playing their proper part in the life of a nation. But as far as I can tell, in the Empire they rule over all else. Magic and mystery have no place or worth; even nature is only a sort of huge storehouse to provide science and industry with the raw materials they need. What place could there possibly be for me in such a world? I’d be a bit of flotsam, some trash left behind by a retreating tide. Interesting enough in its own way, but with no real worth beyond some small curiosity value.” He turned to look ahead at the sky that was slowly unfolding the bloom of its night stars. “I’d sooner die a quick death under the crushing paw of a Snow Leopard, a victim of some unstoppable force of nature, than dwindle away like an oil lamp low on fuel.”
She nodded, understanding him perfectly. “You’ve obviously been thinking this through for some time, and I suspected you might say something of the sort.” She suddenly smiled at him. “Look at the two of us, barely out of childhood and already we’re too old-fashioned for this changing world. Is it possible to be born old? Because I certainly feel it sometimes. How can we hope to stand against unstoppable progress; how can we possibly win a war against the forces of science?”
Oskan snorted. “Which question do you want me to answer first? Born old? Yes, right now I feel ninety. And as for the rest, we’re not fighting progress or science; they’re both ideas that belong to all people — ideas that should help us to understand the beauty of our world and improve the lives of everything that lives in it. But the Empire has kidnapped them, and progress of its sort means sweeping aside everything that isn’t new, whether good or bad. And to the Empire, science is just a means of creating more efficient ways of killing people.”
“Do you think all scientists are bad?” she asked.
“Maggiore Totus is a scientist,” he answered simply.
“Yes,” she said, remembering the experiments and tests she’d sweated over only the year before — in another life. “He’d use science to make people happy.”
“He would. And I’m sure there are many others like him.”
They fell silent, listening to the hiss of the sleigh’s runners as they sped over the snow. The last of the light had drained from the sky, and the stars coldly blazed above them, glittering and scintillating like ice crystals in the frozen air.
The werewolves ran on, seemingly tireless, sniffing the wind and occasionally adjusting their course as they headed for the Hub of the World. But then, as a half-moon rose over the horizon, they howled in greeting of the sacred giver of light and slowed to a halt.
Oskan and Thirrin watched as the Wolffolk busily emptied the second sleigh of most of its contents and erected a low tent that was big enough to take them all. When everything was ready, Grinelda Blood-tooth curtsied politely and asked them if they would care to join them in the shelter.
Thirrin nodded with the proper amount of regality and accepted a fur-covered hand as she stepped from her sleigh. Made of thick layers of dressed hides, the tent was spacious, with furs piled deeply underfoot and braziers set at intervals around its wide interior. At the entrance a huge fire had been built where two of the werewolves squatted with slabs of meat on sticks, which they were attempting to toast for the human guests. After watching for a few moments, during which the meat was first burned and then dropped into the ashes, Oskan politely took the sticks and told the werewolves that he and the Queen would prefer to cook their own food.
The Wolffolk seemed relieved, and after bowing they hurried off