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else.” 
    “Aye,” said Ridmark. “You were right, you know.”
    “I am always right,” said Morigna. “Though if you could remind of which particular instance, that would be helpful.” 
    “I did need this,” said Ridmark. “More than I knew. Yet I am not…sure that this is wise.”
    He expected anger or pain, but her fingers tightened against his. “I know. And I know why.”
    “Do you?” said Ridmark.
    “It is hard to speak of the future,” said Morigna, “when the Warden and his servants might kill us all in the next five days.”
    “There is that,” said Ridmark. 
    “Then let us not think of it,” said Morigna. “Not yet, anyway. We sit upon the edge of ruin, and we take a little joy in each other. Once we prevail, once we stop the return of the Frostborn, then we can speak of the future…and what we might do with it.” 
    “You seem so certain of that,” said Ridmark. 
    “Who can see the future?” said Morigna. “But I know you, Ridmark Arban, and if there is any man who can find a way into Urd Morlemoch and come out alive again, it is you.”
    “Perhaps you have too much confidence in me,” said Ridmark.
    She scoffed. “Perhaps you have too little in yourself.”
    He stared at her, a tangled mass of memories and emotions churning through his mind. 
    “I suppose we shall put it to the test, will we not?” said Ridmark. 
    “That is so,” said Morigna.
    He pulled her close and kissed her again. 
    “As pleasant as this is,” said Morigna when they broke apart, “you were correct earlier. We should return soon. One suspects that wandering the Torn Hills alone at night is rather unwise.”
    “One would suspect correctly,” said Ridmark, adjusting his cloak. In truth, they had already lingered too long. Morigna extended a hand, and Ridmark took it. “Let us…”
    A ripple behind Morigna caught his eye. It was a peculiar sort of ripple, like the heat rising from a slab of hot stone under the summer sun. Yet it was too cold for that here. 
    The ripple shot forward, and Ridmark’s brain caught up with his eyes.
    Fool, fool, fool.
    He shoved Morigna to the side, which meant that the urvaalg slammed into him and drove him backwards, its slavering jaws yawning wide to rip out his throat.

Chapter 3 - Things To Lose
     
    Morigna hit the ground, rolled, and came to one knee, fury and pain roiling in her mind. For a mad instant, she thought that Ridmark had rejected her, that he had simply thrown her to the ground. 
    Then she saw the hulking thing atop Ridmark. The beast looked like a ghastly hybrid of ape and wolf, long limbs heavy with ropy muscle, greasy black fur hanging from its rangy form in lank ropes. Dagger-like talons jutted from its paws, and its eyes burned like dying coals in a blacksmith’s forge. Its misshapen muzzle yawned wide, jagged fangs reaching to crush Ridmark’s head in one bite.
    It was an urvaalg, one of the ancient war beasts of the dark elves, a creature immune to steel and all but the most powerful magic. 
    An urvaalg had killed Nathan Vorinus on the very day that Morigna had decided to depart with him. The urvaalg had ripped out his throat, and now it seemed that Ridmark was going to die in the same way. 
    Sheer dread flooded Morigna, followed by molten fury.
    She had lost her mother and father to the dvargir. She had lost Nathan to an urvaalg. But Morigna would not lose Ridmark, would not lose him as she had lost everyone else she had ever cared about.
    She would not!
    Her magic could not harm the urvaalg permanently, and she dared not strike at the creature when it was so close to Ridmark. Her magic gave her power over wind and earth, storm and stone, and she could use that to aid Ridmark. Morigna drew on all her strength and thrust her hands as she screamed her rage at the urvaalg, her mind reaching to command the earth beneath the urvaalg’s talons.
    The ground rippled like a banner caught in a wind. Ridmark was lying on his back, and the force