And so now here they were, trudging through ice and snow. SpikeFeather had not known of any entrance to the waterways in the frozen northern tundra, but Urbeth's daughters had merely smiled secretively to one another, and led the small group towards the coast.

It was freezing away from the protection of the trees, and while the ice women were apparently unaffected, SpikeFeather, Azhure and Katie had to huddle close, sharing their cloaks and their warmth, in order to survive.

Azhure was deeply unsettled. It had been a generation at least since she'd been separated from Axis. And had she ever been separated from him without the use of power, or the comfort of Alaunt and Wolven at her side? Now she had the responsibility of Katie —

Azhure would sooner have died than to let Faraday down — and nothing with which to guarantee the girl's survival.

Nothing.

Not even a dagger.

What was I thinking of, she thought, to have walked away without even a knife?

In fact, they had nothing with them save a small bag with enough food for a day in it. Nothing but SpikeFeather's assurance they'd find something in the waterways, and nothing but the confidence of the two ice women in finding an entrance down to the Underworld in the first instance.

As they stumbled forwards, eyes narrowed against the icy wind, numb hands clutching the edges of the cloaks about them, Azhure glanced down at Katie.

The girl was subdued — but then who wouldn't be under these circumstances? Otherwise she seemed well enough, her cheeks coloured despite the cold (or perhaps because of it), and she lifted her eyes and smiled sweetly enough at Azhure when she realised the woman's regard.

Azhure nodded at the girl, and swung her eyes forward to where the two ice women strode straight-backed through the wind, heedless of the cold. Their grey and silver hair streamed and snapped out behind them, and every so often one of them would lift a bare, white-skinned arm and swing her hand in a graceful arc before her.

Whenever one did that, Azhure noted that the sting of the wind eased, and warmth stole back into her flesh.

When they'd set out, Azhure had asked them their names, but both women had smiled pleasantly, but with deep puzzlement.

"Names?" one of them had said. "We have no need for names."

And that had been the end of any conversation. The two women had simply walked forth into the snow, and, after a final glance at those they left behind, SpikeFeather, Azhure and Katie had followed them.

How long had they been walking? It had been late afternoon when they'd left the column, and night had come and gone. Now grey light filtered through the driving snow, and Azhure, together with SpikeFeather and Katie, stumbled every third or fourth step.

"How much longer?" Azhure muttered. "How much longer?"

"Soon," said a voice, and Azhure looked up.

The two ice women stood before her, but Azhure did not look at them. Instead she stared at the towering icebergs some forty or fifty paces behind them.

"Where are we?" SpikeFeather said.

"The Icebear Coast," one of the women said. "And the icepack."

"But that's impossible!" Azhure said. "We were many, many leagues from the coast, and —"

"Nothing is impossible," said the other ice woman. "Nothing."

"Where?" SpikeFeather said. His teeth were chattering too much to say more, and his arms were wrapped tight about himself.

His entire body was shaking.

One of the ice women put out a hand and laid it on his shoulder.

Instantly SpikeFeather's shaking stopped, and he straightened, his eyes wide.

The woman's sister did the same for Azhure and Katie — gods! but Azhure could feel herself unfreezing as the woman briefly touched her — then turned and pointed towards a crack between two grinding icebergs. "There."

"There?" Azhure said. "But that's too dangerous! The icebergs will crush us!"

"Nothing is ever too dangerous," one ice woman said.

"Not until it's killed you," Azhure muttered.

"Ah," the woman said, "but we do not know the caress of death!"

"Well," Azhure said, and grinned despite herself, "keep in mind that we do."

By Azhure's reckoning, it took them over three hours to pick their way over the jumbled edge of the icepack towards the icebergs.

The towers of ice reared almost a hundred paces above them, turning the light in their shadows a grey-blue and the air so frigid that the ice women had to walk close to either side of the other three, wrapping them in enchantments so they could continue to move.

The ice towers ground against each other, the sound a constant deep wailing and roaring that made both Azhure and Katie plug their ears with their fingers and clench their teeth.

"Do not fear too much," one of the sisters whispered in Azhure's ear, and she tried to relax, if only for Katie's sake.

But the trembling and shaking beneath her feet! They were going to have to climb down into this nightmare?

"There," said one of Urbeth's daughters. "Between the walls."

They picked their way over the uncertain ice, and then stood, staring.

Whenever Azhure had climbed down into the Underworld previously, she'd descended down a gently sloping spiral staircase.

Not down anything even faintly resembling this terrifying plunge.

This ice staircase descended straight down between the two grinding icebergs, their walls sliding up and down as they fought for space in the crowded sea.

Straight down — so far Azhure could not see its end.

Stars help them if they slipped on the ice steps! They'd tumble to their deaths.

"I do not know that we should —" she began, but one of the ice women laid a hand on her arm.

"You will manage," she said.

"Katie —"

"The girl will manage."

Azhure briefly closed her eyes, then nodded. She took Katie's hand, and tried to smile for her.