When the wind died down again the cannibalized flyer was dead and its arteries already stiffening. ‘Cold fare from this time forward,’ commented Shaithis, sticking up his head to spy out the land around. He looked towards the spine of volcanic peaks. Then looked again. And frowned his concern.
‘Arkis, what do you make of this?’
Arkis stood up, belched noisomely, looked where Shaithis pointed. ‘Eh? That? A whirlwind, a snow-devil, the last flurry in the wake of the storm. What’s this great fascination with Nature, Shaithis?’
‘Fascination? With what’s natural, none whatsoever. With what’s unnatural, plenty! Especially in a place like this.’
‘Unnatural?’
‘By Nature’s mundane standards, aye, if not by those of the Wamphyri.’ He continued to study the phenomenon: a whirling cloud of snow forming a squat cylinder twenty feet high and the same in diameter. Something seemed to move in its heart, like a tadpole in a jelly egg, and the whole – device? – making a beeline their way. It threw off whips of snow which quickly settled to the ground without diminishing the central mass.
Shaithis nodded; he knew what it was; ‘Fess Ferenc,’ he whispered, grimly.
‘What, Fess?’ Arkis gaped at the thing, now only a hundred yards away across the shining ice, coming at walking pace and beginning to thin out a little. ‘How, Fess?’
‘That’s a vampire mist,’ said Shaithis, donning his gauntlet. ‘On Starside it would creep, flow, drift outwards from him. Here it turns to snow! Fess was a fine mist-maker … his great mass. During the hunt, I’ve seen him cover an entire hillside.’
They both threw out their vampire senses towards the weird, earthbound cloud. Only one creature inside it; the Ferenc, aye, but weary as never before. He hadn’t the strength to hide himself. ‘Ah-hahr growled Arkis. ‘We have him!’
‘But let’s first discover what goes on,’ Shaithis cautioned him.
‘Isn’t it obvious what goes on?’ The Leper’s son was scowling again. ‘Why, he’s finally burst that monstrous boil Volse Pinescu, but in the fight depleted himself. So now he’s at our mercy, of which I have precious little.’
Twenty paces away the cloud fell as a final flurry and Fess stood there, naked! Entirely naked, and not only of his snow-cloud cover. Arkis gawped but Shaithis called out: ‘Well, Fess, and how fortunes change, eh?’
‘It would seem so.’ The other’s deep bass voice echoed over the ice-plain. But there was a shiver in it; he was freezing. And yet under one arm he carried his clothes in a bundle. Shaithis couldn’t see the sense of it. There must be a story here and he wanted to know it.
Arkis sensed Shaithis’s curiosity. ‘Me, I’m not interested,’ he snarled. ‘I say we kill him now!’
‘You say too much,’ Shaithis hissed. ‘You think only of your own survival, now, without a thought for the future. Myself, I think of my continued survival, now and however long I may sustain it. So you bide your time or our partnership ends here.’
‘Am I to die?’ The Ferenc stood tall, glooming on Shaithis across that short distance. ‘If so then get it over with, for I’ve no wish to turn to a block of ice.’ But he threw down his clothes and hunched forward a little, and his talons were sharp as razors hanging at his sides.
‘It seems I have the advantage,’ said Shaithis. ‘Also a score to settle. You caused me not a little pain.’ The Ferenc made no answer. ‘However,’ Shaithis continued, ‘we may yet come to an agreement. As you see, Arkis and I have formed a team of our own: safety in numbers, you know? But two against the Icelands? The odds are too high. Three of us might fare better.’
‘Some kind of trick?’ Fess couldn’t believe it. If their roles had been reversed Shaithis would have been already dead.
‘No trick.’ Shaithis shook his head. ‘Like Diredeath here you have knowledge of this place. And just as the blood is the life, so is knowledge. That has always been my conviction. To fight among ourselves is to die. Sharing knowledge – pooling our resources – we might yet survive.’
‘Say on,’ said Fess, his voice more shivery than ever.