They spoke fairly little over the next few hours. Even the animals stayed quiet. Eventually, the sun rose over their heads, transforming the dark landscape to one of blinding white. Zoromon tried to ask Azvalath what was wrong, but received no response. His partner rode ahead on the dappled gray mare, grim and silent. Zoromon tried to mask his own unrest. He looked at Tevorac again and again, secretly hoping for some kind of answer. What had she told Azvalath to break him down like that?

Tevorac eventually noticed Zoromon’s fixation on her. She looked in his direction, but she seemed to look through him rather than at him. Zoromon locked eyes with her, then noticed Ayhoshki was pinning her ears. Something had upset the red mare, and Zoromon could feel the tension in her.

“Tev, don’t sit like that. She’s uncomfortable with you bouncing,” he said. “Back straight. Don’t…whoa!”

Ayhoshki stumbled and jerked against her lead. Her hooves skidded on a patch of thick ice at the edge of a narrow snowmelt stream. Tevorac lost her balance and fell out of the saddle, landing with one foot in the icy trickle. She scrambled away from the water and stood up, shaking all over.

Azvalath signaled them to stop and then turned around slowly. His shoulders sagged a little. He looked hollow and defeated. “Everything all right?”

“Here, Tev. I’ll help you.” He dismounted and got Tevorac back up on Ayhoshki. She shivered and clutched at the mare’s mane. Her strange blue eyes widened. Then her head snapped around to glare at Perst.

Only then did Zoromon notice Perst was laughing. Azvalath noticed next and gave him a firm reprimand. “You weren’t even invited on this trip, so if you misbehave, we’d be more than happy to send you and your silly old cow home. And Tevorac, stay in your saddle.”

Tevorac clenched her jaw and hissed a little. One of her boots was soaked. Zoromon spoke up. “Azvalath, her foot’s wet. Shouldn’t we be concerned about hypothermia?”

“We can’t stop now, or the clan will find us,” said Azvalath. “But Tev, listen. Take the wet boot off. It’ll chill you faster than a bare foot will. Actually, you know what?” He reached down and pulled the overboot off his right foot. “No one needs a bare foot. Catch.” He threw it to Zoromon, who then handed it to Tevorac. “It’ll be big on you, but it’s better than nothing.”

Cautiously, she took her foot out of the stirrup and replaced her footwear. She handed the wet boot to Zoromon, who put it in his saddlebag. Then she smiled a little.

“See? We help each other,” said Zoromon. Her toothy grin widened.

Perst looked down at the trickle of meltwater. “You said we’re looking for a bluehole. That’s like a pond, right?”

“Yeah,” said Azvalath. “What’s your idea?”

“Why don’t we follow this little stream? It has to drain down to somewhere,” said Perst. “Right?”

“Let’s go.” Azvalath turned his horse and rode along the edge of the stream. Zoromon followed with Tevorac, and Perst brought up the rear. The wolf plodded gingerly beside Azvalath’s horse, trying not to get his paws wet. Zoromon looked at Akyvak and wondered if the creature had any understanding of what was going on.

Moments later, Zoromon’s horse asked him a question.

“May you stop for a drink? Sure.” Zoromon set the reins down and let Sakhal have a few swallows of the icy water. Then his horse pawed at the snow and dug up a mouthful of grass, which he snatched up before proceeding.

“Better than eating snow for water, huh?” Zoromon dusted some of the snow from Sakhal’s thick black mane. “And better than khenkash for dinner.”

“Anything is better than khenkash for dinner,” said Azvalath. “Any sort of grain mash is horse food, as far as I’m concerned. And you were right, Perst. There’s a pond up ahead, and I think it’s a bluehole.”

Tevorac grunted. Zoromon looked at her. “You know what a bluehole is? They’re the ponds that take you somewhere else.”

She nodded.

Zoromon turned his gaze to Ayhoshki. The red mare tugged at her lead, anxious to charge ahead. Zoromon sighed. Ayhoshki was a leader, not a follower. She always had been. Then another thought occurred to him. The animals probably didn’t know what a bluehole was. He made eye contact with Ayhoshki and posed the question to her.

She showed him a picture of herself jumping off a cliff into a bluehole.

“All right, then,” he said. “Explain it to your friends.”

Azvalath urged Tashnuk to a gallop. The wolf sprinted alongside him, kicking snow up in his wake. Zoromon looked at Tevorac, told her to hold on tight, then let Sakhal and Ayhoshki chase after Tashnuk. Perst brought up the rear on his cow. They charged into the water together, and as soon as it was over their heads, they emerged from another lake. This lake was much larger, and the water smelled salty.

“Good job!” Zoromon told the animals. “I know that was scary, but you all did well. Wait…where’s Tevorac?” When he noticed Ayhoshki was riderless, he froze in silent panic.

A cool mist floated through the air and enveloped them in soft gray. Sakhal took a deep breath, then sank slowly to his knees. Confused, Zoromon tried to get his horse back up, but Sakhal put his head down and was deeply asleep within seconds. The other horses followed suit, as did Perst’s cow. Soon, the riders and the wolf were the only ones awake.

A deep voice reached them through the haze. “Don’t worry. Your mounts are safe. And so is your friend. She is as she should be.”

Zoromon saw Azvalath tense up. “What about us, Sothyrion?”

“Who?” Zoromon asked. “You know him?”

He heard a deep sigh. A warm wind blew over him. He slumped beside Sakhal and passed out.