Smoke was rising above the tree line along with the sun. The sight of the dark gray plume on the horizon flooded Aysel's heart with both relief and trepidation. How near the smoke was meant she was getting closer to her goal, and closer to a cure for the illness plaguing her brother, but it also was a sign that she was almost out of the valley where she had lived her entire life. The mountains surrounding her homeland were filled with nothing but danger and death.

Aysel sighed and let herself plop into the snow. She hadn't noticed until the the smoke had caught her eye, but it was midmorning, and she'd been walking all night. She stretched out her legs, which were incredibly sore from the high steps needed to walk in her snowshoes. It was time for a break.

She pulled out of her bag the rabbit she had taken from one of the binding circles outside of her village; one of its hind legs would make a good breakfast. A quick prick from her blade and a drop of blood were all that were needed to start a small fire on bare snow. She wasn't worried about smoke, since blood-fed fires created no more than a whisper. The fire crackled softly as she skinned and cooked the rabbit leg, adding more blood to the flames every time it started to die. It would have been peaceful, with the fire popping at her feet and birds chirping their morning songs overhead, but for the smoke winding its way above the trees.

It had changed from a dark, almost black gray, to a pure white like a cloud. The trail of smoke was punctuated and blocky as it floated into the sky, like beads on a string. The stories said that the smoke or the mysterious bursts of colored light that sometimes accompanied it were the product of a perverted Beast ritual, though guesses as to what the ritual was varied from brutal infant sacrifices to the torture of Letters before eating their hearts. Aysel looked back down at her breakfast as its oily meat blackened in the fire, trying hard not to wonder if she was walking straight towards her death.

She ate her meal in silence, then pulled her hunting bag back over her shoulder and stood again on her aching legs. There was no time to rest. Every second she spent here was another second her brother suffered, trapped in sleep. Once again, she began to walk.

The day passed quickly. Aysel marked her progress by the movement of the sun and the changing composition of the forest, which had long since lost the river golds and sallow trees that dotted the woods around her home. They were replaced by thick forests of snow-blanketed pines, which stood silent and steadfast against the growing wind. It really was silent here at the edge of the mountains, Aysel noticed as she troughed through the snow. It was if the world contained only the wind and the steady thump of her snowshoes on the ground. Even the birds were quiet.

She stopped mid-stride, suddenly remembering what the older hunters in the village had always taught her. The birds will know where the danger is before you do.

Cautiously, Aysel looked around--

Thunk.

Aysel didn't realize until later, but it was the sound of a heavy wooden spear shaft being rammed into the back of her skull. All she did realize, at the moment, was that she was seeing flashes of light even brighter than those unknown flashing signals from the mountains at night, and that she was on the ground again. Groggily, she tried to right herself--

Thunk.

More flashes. More snow in her face. She reached for her letting blade, her only hope, but was too disoriented to find it in the folds of her clothes. Above her, a woman screamed.

Thunk.

By now she had stopped trying to stand, busy focusing on the way her head seemed to be imploding and filling with flashing light. Suddenly, the background for the lights dancing in front of her eyes went dark, as if someone had slammed a door. She reached up to where she thought her face was and felt only stitched hide. Someone had put a bag over her head.

Thunk.

She let her arm drop as another collision knocked the sense out of her, destroying any sense of up or down. She felt as confused and shocked as she had when they had carried Elkin's lifeless body back to the village. She wasn't sure where her body was or if it was hurt, only that very bad, bad things were happening, and they'd keep happening if she didn't get away. Running was impossible, so she tried to crawl, but crawling was impossible too, since she couldn't tell whether she was on all fours or on her back. All she could do was wait for the next-- and probably last-- blow.

But it didn't come. Instead of another crushing hit, Aysel received only a gentle prod on her shoulder. It was hesitant, like a child trying to wake their sleeping parent. Her hearing wavered back into use, marked by the sounds of someone's unsteady, gasping breaths. Her attacker? Or maybe someone who defeated her attacker, here to rescue her?

She tried to call out to them, but all she could manage was a weak whimper. "Nnng..."

There was a shriek, the sound of crunching snow, and another burst of light. Then there was nothing. Nothing but dark...

...

... everything was so dark. And it hurt so much. Why did her head hurt so much? And why did it feel like she was moving?

Then she remembered it was dark because she had a bag over her head, which hurt because it had been beaten several times with something very, very hard. As for why it felt like she was moving, well, Aysel guessed it was because she was actually moving. Despite the dizziness and the throbbing in her head, she could tell that she was on her back, being pulled along some rough surface.

She tried to sit up, get her bearings, but only managed to make her head hurt more. "Oh," she moaned.

"You shouldn't move," said an unfamiliar voice. Aysel froze. The voice was somewhat low and rough, but Aysel guessed it belonged to a woman. Apparently she had been rescued after all. "Sit back and lie still."

"Who... are you?" Aysel asked. Her words weren't coming out as quickly or as clearly as she wanted them to. For that matter, her thoughts weren't either.

"You don't need to know that," the woman said shortly.

"Where am I?"

"You don't need to know that, either."

"Where are you taking me?"

Aysel heard the woman sigh. "Just stop asking questions, okay? Too much thinking right now is bad for your head. I just want you to answer some things for me."

"Okay," Aysel slurred. She figured that she owed it to her rescuer.

"What are you called, where are you from, and why are you here?" the woman asked.

Beneath the hood, Aysel blinked at the onslaught of thinking she'd be required to do. Somewhere deep in her foggy mind, she wondered why she was still wearing a bag over her head, but the thought faded as she said, "My name is Aysel, I'm from Crossing, and I... what was the last question?"

The movement stopped. "Knocked you around harder than I thought, huh?" the woman muttered. "Would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Everyone knows what happens when you take pity on a Letter."

The woman spat out the last word as if it burned her mouth, and a flash of realization ran through Aysel, clearing away any blurriness in her head. "What... what are you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

It was silent except for the wind blowing through the trees. Then someone chuckled right next to her ear. Aysel jumped; she hadn't heard movement at all. "What do you think?" the voice hissed.

Aysel jerked away from it, gasping, but she couldn't go far. Her arms and ankles were bound down tight to what felt like a wooden board. She tried to pull them close to her, to give herself at least the protection of her arms crossed over her chest, but the ties held. She was splayed out, helpless as a sheep tied up for slaughter, and suddenly aware of just how soft her stomach was.

"Don't struggle," the thing which she had once thought was a person whispered in her other ear. Aysel hadn't heard it move this time either. "It won't work."

Her fear turned to anger, at her captor for taunting her and at herself for not realizing sooner. She let out an angry scream and violently threw her body against her bonds. She thrashed her arms and legs as much as she was able, and even though she could feel her joints complaining as she stretched them beyond their limits, she didn't stop. "Let me go! Let me go! Free me, Beast!" she shrieked. She could feel the board shaking under her, but it did not tip, and her bonds didn't break. She yelled in frustration, putting every bit of strength she had into freeing herself, but it wasn't enough. At last, she lay tired and gasping on the board, like a freshly-caught fish at the side of a river.

"I told you it wouldn't work," the Beast said dryly after staying quiet for her entire struggle. Aysel panted, marveling at the thing's voice. Other than the roughness, it could have passed for that of a person. It almost sounded like it had a soul. "Would you mind not doing that again? Your screams are really sharp."

"I swear by my blood and my blade that my screams will echo in your ears until I die, you filthy creature," Aysel cried.

"How very heroic," it said calmly. "But you can't really swear by your blade, seeing as I have it."

Aysel hissed through her nose, stomach turning at the thought of a Beast's impure skin touching her sacred tool. "The Ancient Ones will punish those who touch another's blade. I'm sure that applies to animals as well."

"The old stories say if you take a Letter's blade away the Letter starts to bleed from its scars, but it looks like it really was just a story, huh?" said, ignoring Aysel's threat. It had started to walk again, and Aysel felt herself being pulled along on the sled like a gutted elg. "No blade, no blood, no magic."

Aysel said nothing. The Beast, as mindless as it was, was correct. If she couldn't access her blood, it was next to useless. And even if the Beast had been thoughtless enough to leave her with her weapon, her arms were bound far too tightly to use it. All she could to was lie back and think of a way out of this mess.

"Where are you taking me?" Aysel asked, trying to make her voice demanding and strong instead of reflecting the terror she felt inside. She didn't do a very good job.

"I'm getting you off my hands," it replied gruffly.

She swallowed. That could only mean one thing. "You shouldn't kill me. I brought you your dead, remember? You owe me for that."

The Beast froze. "Did you think bringing me the skins of my people would win you favor?" it asked quietly.

"I... I brought them to you so you and the others can burn them with honor, or-- or eat them, or whatever it is you things do."

"You disgust me," it said slowly and carefully. She could hear the revulsion in its voice, but beneath that something softer: a quavering, shocked fear. Aysel blinked in the dark hood, trying to wrap her mind around it. How could a Beast, butcher of her kind, be afraid of her?

Before she had much time to wonder about this, the Beast huffed and continued its march forward through the snow. "We don't eat our fallen. And we don't eat you, if that's what you were going to bargain for with the horror in that bag of yours," it said.

"You don't?" Aysel asked. "Then what's going to happen to me?"

"I don't know. Like I said, I'm getting you off my hands. If they kill you, or eat you, or whatever horror you think will happen to you, it won't bother me. After that, you won't be my problem anymore."

Aysel raised her eyebrows, sensing opportunity. "I wouldn't be your problem anymore if you let me go."

The Beast let out a noise that was half scoff and half chuckle, which rumbled deep in its throat. "I'm not doing that."

"If you freed me, you wouldn't have to drag me all the way to these others," Aysel continued, trying to be persuasive as possible, spelling everything out in case Beast's animalistic mind couldn't follow. "That means less work for you. If you want, you can tell the rest of you that you caught and killed me. Take back a scrap of my dress to show them, and everyone will think you're the best killer of them all, with next to no work on your part."

Now the Beast did chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "You call me a killer," it pondered (if it was smart enough to ponder). "That's almost funny, in a sad way."

Aysel's rage rose up again. "I know what you things do to my people. You come down from the mountains like a plague, burning everything and everyone in sight. You leave no one alive, not even the old and the sick, not even children. They all get fed to the fire."

The Beast was silent for a while. "I know something too. I know what happens when you let a Letter live." Its voice was quiet and full of hatred. "I'd like you to know that if there wasn't a plan for you, you would already be ashes."

"What is the plan for me?"

"All I know is that someone whom I owe a favor is in need of a Letter. For what, I don't know, and I don't care. As long as you're far from me, it's not my problem."

Aysel swallowed. She had heard the stories about Letters being taken captive by Beasts and traded from creature to creature like playthings, tormented until they died by their own hand or that of their captor.

She started to panic. Even though she knew she had been willingly walking towards evil, she'd foolishly thought that she'd be able to capture a Beast easily, and convince it or coerce it into helping her people. But now she was the one tied down and being led to some unknown place to face her unknown fate. Had the Ancient Ones seen this coming? Had They laughed at her presumption and turned Their backs on her? She closed her eyes and bit her lip, determined not to cry in front of the Beast... and as if some great force was speaking into her mind, she got an idea.

Soundlessly, Aysel took a piece of her cheek in between her two sharpest teeth and bit down, easily piercing her flesh. She opened her mouth to expose her blood to the air. The magic within her came alive, flooding her with a sense of controlled euphoria. She was anything but defenseless now. Determined, she let the blood pool in her mouth until she could hold no more, and then, as quickly as she could, sent it streaking out from between her lips.

The stream of blood was enough to rip through the hide bag covering her face, letting in bright light and the first breath of fresh air in what seemed ages. She squinted against the light; though it seemed to be evening, the sudden sunlight still blinded her. She didn't need to be able to see to get free, though, and ordered her blood down to the binds on her wrists--

Without warning, something struck her against the face. Aysel's vision blurred further and her head spun, still not quite recovered from the last round of blows. From between the tear in the fabric, Aysel could see a vague dark shape looming over her. It raised what might have been an arm back for another strike.

Not this time, Aysel thought, and spat. She formed the blood into a spike midair, sending it rushing towards what she guessed was the thing's face. It ducked faster than Aysel thought possible; the weapon grazed the top of its head. Aysel's senses pricked up; it was bleeding. She could feel its heavy heartbeat fill the air. She sucked at her cheek, drawing more blood into her mouth, and prepared to try again.

"No you don't," the thing roared, leaping onto her like a lynx. Aysel spat blood at its face, too surprised to do anything else. It shrieked and rubbed at its eyes as Aysel sent her blood inside it, trying to find a way to hurt it, but it hadn't been enough. It clamped a hand down on Aysel's mouth, forcing her head sideways. Aysel bit down on the beast's rough skin, and though it yelled out in pain, it did not let go. It pushed her head backwards, back underneath the darkness of the hood.

"I know Letters are clever little backstabbers, but that was something else," it panted, pushing its hand down tighter. "And stop biting me. I'm not going to take my hand off your mouth even if you try to eat my palm."

Angrily Aysel released her grip. Her mouth was filled with her own blood and that of the Beast. She longed to spit it out, but could only swallow. She could feel its heat as it slid down her throat. It wouldn't surprise her if it was poisonous.

"If you try anything again I'll have to have to hurt you. Believe it or not, I'm not much for hurting things, but I think I'll get over it," it said. Aysel could hear fabric tearing. "But just in case you won't listen to me..." It quickly removed its hand from her face before stuffing a bundle of cloth into her mouth, then wrapped the rest of it around and around her head until everything from the bottom of her nose to her chin was tightly covered. Satisfied, it tucked the gap she had made in the hood into the wrappings, plunging her into near-total darkness again. "There. No more blood, unless your brain explodes from your ears."

Aysel grunted furiously.

"Hush now," it told her. "You'll have all the time to rage when we get there."

The Beast fell silent, and so did Aysel, less because the Beast told her to and more because she had bitten down on the gag, trying not to cry loud enough for it to hear. She was going to die. More likely than not she would only die after terrible things had been done to her, and there was almost certainly no way to escape with her life, much less with a cure for Elkin. He would die too, slipping away without a chance for her to say goodbye, to apologize for all the stupid, cruel things all siblings say, or to tell him that she loved him with all her heart. All she could do was silently pray to the Ancient Ones to make his passing smooth, even if hers wouldn't be. His blood would join the waters of those who came before him, and from them would come new life.

This thought soothed her, as did the rush of the wind through the rustling trees. Even though she thought it impossible under these circumstances, she slowly felt herself fall asleep.

"Wake up."

"Hmmm..." she mumbled through the cloth around her mouth.

"We're here. Wake up. I thought it might make you feel better to be walked into the village rather than dragged... not that I care, of course," the Beast said.

Aysel ignored it.

"Hey! Wake up!" It yanked the hide bag fully away from Aysel's eyes, blinding her with the bright light of a rising sun. Aysel squirmed and squinted until a dark shape obscured her view as her vision adjusted. "Are you awake now?" it snarled. The Beast leaned over and stared down at her, and Aysel saw its face for the first time.

Through the gag, Aysel screamed.