Prologue

The frozen, screeching winds tore at their cloaks, forcing all four of them to keep their heads down. Even though there was nothing to see but snow, ice, and silvery rock in all directions for leagues around, it was dark and gray under the masses of snowstorm clouds above. Even though the four of them were climbing some of the lower, more tame peaks compared to the others that covered the bleak, icy wilds in all directions, it was still a task that had taken them three days so far, and even now they weren’t but two thirds of the way to the summit. Even higher, more frightening and sharper shapes of jagged mountains rose on all sides around them. Looking off the side of the high cliff they now struggled to climb was NOT a good idea.
“HOW…MUCH…CLOSER?!” Caelic shouted above the howling winds, still constantly blowing ice and masses of snow from his face. By now, this high up and this far into such a brutal storm halfway up the jagged mountain, conversation was at a bare minimum.
The four figures, all of them mostly hidden in their black, shaded cloaks and hoods as they scrambled up the mountain, had barely spoken that day. With Ravis shouting out a few directions once in a while and Kurga snarling at any of the human followers who were too slow, there had been little need to. The howling, crying wind continued tearing at their tunics and cloaks, as it had for hours now. The storm wasn’t about to let up.
The cliff face they climbed was almost straight up, only made possible for climbing by the narrow, icy path that the four of them now trekked up. It’s narrow, rocky face wasn’t inviting, as few of those mountains were, but the four dark priests had climbed it doggedly. The high priest, Kruga, had nearly been forced to get out a whip once or twice, but they had done it. All four of their black order, all sorcerers, had managed what few mortals dared do.
Climb up to the home of the Norn tribe, the Quedur`sec Norns. By personal invitation.
Kurga turned around abruptly as they reached the top of another twist in the narrow path, lowering his hood as he looked back at them, into the wind. His dark face was mostly hidden in its depths.
“I said KEEP IT UP.” He hurled back at his most rebellious student, Caelic. The next highest in his order, the young, ambitious boy he had adopted ten years ago, now wore a red bend across his forehead to show his rank of high priest, second only to Kurga himself. A few blond wisps of hair and two icy blue eyes glared out of the pupil’s hood. He pulled his cloak tighter about him, and didn’t press it. The wind kept howling.
Ravis, who was just behind Caelic, pushed him out of the way as she came up to stand behind her teacher as well, her own cold, dead looking eyes fixed on the mountain still towering over them.
“The entrance is just half a hundred yards above this point.” She shouted into the wind, and into her master’s ear. Her painfully pale face and dark eyes portrayed little to no human feeling or sympathy. “They’ll be waiting there.”
Kurga looked at her, his wolf-like gaze studying her intently, and nodded. “Alright, get moving then.” He muttered, as Ravis continued on up the craggy path, her black staff clutched close as a walking stick. As Caelic reached him, the highest priest pushed the young man ahead of him with the end of his own staff.
“Keep moving.” He muttered. Caelic grunted and let it slide this time, turning once again and moving on up after Ravis.
Kurga’s hard, dark face looked down the path they had come again. Smaller Tamar, the youngest and newest of his pupils, struggled up at last beside him, her own small form barely visible in the dark cloak, hood, and wind.
Her eyes, unlike the other three, betrayed a hint of a strange emotion, but not one Kurga was unknown to: fear. Though her pale face had the red markings and runes etched on it as it did on all the others, it looked more innocent because of the eyes that shone out of the pretty face. What beauty was there though was covered under the hideous runes that had been painted there.
Kurga raised an eyebrow. “Lagging behind?”
She quickly shook her head. The rustle of wings on her back, betraying her as one of the Carcega race, shook gently under her cloak. “No lord, not at all.” She put on a new effort to climb her way through the snow and rock and hurriedly followed after the retreating forms of Caelic and Ravis.
Kurga sighed grimly, as though he were a father dealing with unruly children, and went on after them.

It was Ravis who reached the cave mouth first, the entrance. The sorceress pulled back her hood mechanically as she peered around the edge of the cavern and into it, her raven black hair now flying in the frozen wind. Her icy, dark eyes scanned it only for a moment before she was satisfied no one had arrived yet.
She turned back to look down the path, where her three sorcerer companions struggled up behind. “Come! Here it is!” She barked, and disappeared inside.
The cave was set into the mountainside abruptly halfway up the path they had just climbed, a gaping, ice covered mouth that seemed to invite travelers in. As if to further provide welcome, just past the cave mouth, the icy road the four of them had just been staggering up slanted off and ended in a sheer drop. From the cliff upon which they now stood, all of them could survey most of the northern waste in the distance, jagged line on jagged line, ice upon rock, unfriendly, untamed, and older than the Norn folk. The constantly blowing, howling, icy wind still tore at Ravis’ hood and cloak as she stood waiting knee deep in ice for her three comrades. If she felt the cold in her unfeeling, cold mind, she didn’t show it on her pale, slender face.
“Excellent work, Ravis.” Kurga awarded her a clap on the shoulder as he reached the top and entrance, nearly toppling her. The highest of the high priests wasn’t a small man, and had been trained how to use more than just his warlock’s staff when needed. Ravis grunted quietly and grit her teeth, but didn’t say a word.
“Let’s get inside then, it appears we arrived first after all.” Caelic reached the two of them, spitting snow and cursing, fumbling with his staff. “I’d be surprised indeed if even those frozen-hearted, cursed Norns reached this place before we did.”
Giving both a push inside (for unlike Ravis, at least Kurga could feel the freezing cold), the master sorcerer waited for small Tamar to reach him and duck past into the cave, avoiding his eyes, before he shivered and ducked in himself.
As he turned once more to look out on the gray, dark northern world that he and his human people had come from eras ago, he couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe mortals were getting softer as time went on. The unfriendly peaks in the distance, just dark forms through the wind, were certainly home only to monsters and ungodly beasts now. Among other things.
He turned again and nearly ran smack into his host.
With a grunt of surprise he brought up his staff on instinct and nearly cast some dark attacking ward right then and there, before he recognized the paper white face before him. After a moment’s recognition, he sighed and visibly relaxed.
“Ach, Sire`asfri, I knew you would get here.” He tried, warmly extending a hand as he lowered his staff.
The slender, small figure before him didn’t change expression or move to take the hand. “Did you doubt my word?” He said in an icy, accusing tone.
The Norn Prince, Sire`asfri, was considered large for his kind. Among Norns five feet was a giant, and so their prince was indeed a giant, though he came up only to Kurga’s shoulder now. Dressed in a white jerkin and breeches just as paper, stainless white as his face and hands were, he made even Ravis look dark in comparison. His coal black eyes along stood out from his face, inhuman and as cold as the world he lived in, gazing expressionlessly at the high sorcerer.
Kurga’s eyes narrowed when he saw his other three pupils behind the Norn prince…all grabbed and held tightly by other almost pure white Norns with glittering knives held at their throats. It didn’t bother him as much as it would’ve most, he had lost pupils before to overly protective Norn clans. But this was a slightly different occasion, Kurga had good use for all the pupils he could get at that time.
“Take your hands off my students, Sire`asfri.” Kurga growled, “I need them now.”
The Norn prince laid a gentle hand on his slender scimitar in his belt, gaze still fixed steadily on the human sorcerer. His paper white face betrayed a hint of disapproval, though it was hard to read those black, baleful eyes. And old eyes, as well. For a Norn, this clan prince was considered young at the age of eighty full years. And already he had gained that dangerously patient, unmoving stare that all his silent icy kind possessed.
“You said nothing about students.” He hissed, quietly, but still the human mortal heard every word clearly. “The deal was meant to be made with you alone. You knew this. One mortal, and the high lord of your people. No others.”
“They’re not in the deal!” Kurga bit back his rising temper, wiping ice from his face and slight beard as he fixed his wolfish gaze on the slender Norn creature. “I told you! They’re just here for protection, and for teaching! I had them come so they could be with me on the plan!”
The Norn seemed to retreat back into himself for a moment, thinking. At last, his hooded eyes opened like a serpent’s, fixed again, unmoving, on the high sorcerer.
“As long as they drop their staves.” He replied. “No further deal.”
“Done.” Came the quick reply. Kurga wasn’t about to lose now, not because of some minor dispute over truce terms. On queue, all three of the hostage sorcerers behind the Norn prince dropped their staves, clattering to the floor.
The glittering, icicle daggers disappeared almost instantly, thrust back into the belts of the half a dozen or so Norns gathered here and there in the cave, just behind their leader. All of them looked exactly alike as far as Kurga could tell, but that was how they were. Norns were Norns. Ice devils, white demons, snow elves, whatever people called them. All the same in the end.
Caelic and Tamar hastily retreated back behind their master as soon as they were released. They had learned enough from their master to know what these icy creatures were capable of, and not just with knives. The furious expression on Caelic’s face was kept barely in check by harsh looks from his master. Even Ravis, when released, tried to exchange deadly, icy glares with her captors for a few minutes before retreating back behind Kurga as well. She lost. Even she was still mortal compared to these Norns.
The howling wind continued moaning through the icy cave as the prince of his snow elf clan stepped forward, his hunters gathered behind him, all also wearing the same pure white traveling breeches, tunics and vests, all manner of odd, sharp knives stuck in their black belts. Glittering, cold black eyes glared out of the slender white faces.
As the seven or so pairs of eyes fixed on the four humans, Kurga got right to the point. He wasn’t eager to stay here any more than he had to.
“Then the Great Black will side with me? Will he take my offer?”
“He will.” The Norn prince replied, still expressionless. Or perhaps, Ravis guessed as she watched the odd creatures, their expressions and emotions weren’t readable to humans like themselves.
“Black Vardescion will accept.” He said again, nodding as if in agreement. “Provided all the rest is his and his kindred’s, you may keep one of the Five Houses, of your choice. And the human lord…”
“Count.” Caelic interrupted, correcting the Norn. There was an icy silence.
The clan prince went on, undeterred. “…the human count dies. After his job is done.”
“Certainly. All of them will.” This time, Ravis spoke, as though she were calmly mentioning the time of day. Again the Norn nodded.
“Good.” He finished. “Which Spire falls first?”
Kurga smiled grimly. He had had this planned out long in advance.
“Kire`falredis.” He replied, “In exactly seven days’ time, at midnight, the Spire Kire`falredis will be broken in power. The rest will be up to you, but the chapel Spire will be disabled. I promise you that on my word and my staff.”
“Good. At that time, we will be there. And by that morning, the Spire will be nothing but a blackened ruin. I promise you THAT on the Black One’s scales.” He murmured in reply, this time fixing his gaze on each of the human sorcerers in turn. Kurga. Tamar, who shivered and looked away. Caelic, who flinched, but whose gaze burned back with blue fire. Ravis, who returned the gaze expressionlessly, if not enjoyably. A dangerous foursome they were, already. For mortals.
“The deal is struck.” This time, it was the Norn who extended a hand. Kurga reached out and shook it heartily, though flinching at the sheer icy cold grip the prince of the Norn clan had. As if on queue, the hunters that guarded their clan prince seemed to visibly relax.
“Done.” The sorcerer replied.