Another night fell on the Silver Road; Bigtown was as far away as Moondale was.

Shaking and shivering, Nick pulled his cloak tighter around his stiffening body. A yawn tugged at his mouth; he swallowed hard. For a few heartbeats, his teeth stopped chattering, then they continued their aggravating song with renewed force.

It wasn't a particularly cold night, at least not to Ician standards. Deep into the winter moons, one couldn't venture outside without three layers of clothes, nor leave the vicinity of the fireplace without risking icicles on one's skin and nose hair. Sweet summer nights like these, with an open sky and but a breath of wind blowing through the wagon, would seem like a faraway dream, something any Ician would trade all riches in the cave of abundance for just to regain the feeling in their fingers and toes once more.

Except he wasn't Ician, was he? He may live in Bigtown, but he was a Greenlander. Ever since that thought had dawned on him, he hadn't been warm again.

"No, Four, you can't sleep next to me," Burn grumbled. The boy's firm action was met with pitiful whining as dog nails scraped the floor. "Don't look at me like that. You're a big dog."

"Wroo-wroo-wroo," replied Number Four.

"No means no. Soon you'll have a master, and it won't be me."

Four howled.

"Bad dog. Listen to me!"

The God of Pride was dancing on the boy's shoulders. Without the incident with the wagon and Nick's reluctance to allow Burn to use magic, the young Prince would have asked for his help. He still needed it but was too stubborn to call Nick.

Squirming beneath his cloak, Nick fished into the pocket of his trousers and took out the last snack. "Look, come here," he said.

Tip-tap went the pup's paws. Moments later, Four's wet nose pressed against Nick's palm as he snatched the dry cube of meat from his grip.

Accompanied by satisfying scrunching noises, Nick picked up Four and scratched him under his chin. The small male was still the lightest of the five puppies, but he wasn't a helpless dog anymore. This could only be a brief moment of affection, a small reassure that all was well. 

When the crunching stopped, Four began to lick Nick's fingers where the cube had touched his skin. Nick hid his hand behind his back.

"All gone. Now it's puppy bedtime."

"Njarf."

The pup clambered over him, chasing the smell. As fur bristled against his neck, Nick grabbed the dog once more and placed him next to the snoring blotch of white, black, and grey. His siblings had already exchanged the Silver Road for a land where they could chase hares and bring them to their loving master, and receive pats and praise in return.

Quietly, Number Four tiptoed behind him, but Nick persisted. He put the pup back with the other dogs. Twice more, he had to repeat the ritual; then, at last, the white and grey dog with the black socks realised he wouldn't find warmth and shelter by a human's side.

Nick sat down behind Phoenix, who was leading the horses through the night from the driver's bench.

"God of Patience, I could never do your job," he said.

Nick sniffed. "It's not that hard."

"It is. I haven't seen anyone caring about animals with such passion in a long time. Pets have become a rarity in Silvermark. Anything with meat on its bones is considered food."

"Mountain dogs aren't tasty—they're carnivores."

Phoenix scoffed. "Taste is of little importance when you're starving."

"Should I be worried about their fate?"

"Err... no... I don't think you should. No... err... The Silvermarker was struggling to find words. "Obviously, the royal family has plenty of food. They won't eat them."

"And the three for the army? How will King Storm guarantee they won't be butchered by a horde of rabid soldiers?"

Phoenix uttered sounds; none of them were words. 

"Well?" Nick asked.

"I don't know. I was told to bring you to Moondale." The Silvermarker gulped audibly. "... told to bring the pups to Moondale. Not you. Nobody cares about you."

"Of course, I don't see why anyone should. I'm a Kennelmaster."

Phoenix whistled, and Nick forced a smile. Though he was still shivering, he no longer felt cold. All his senses were heightened. This wasn't a simple slip of the tongue. Earlier, the man had admitted to having been there all these years ago in Laneby. Since he knew Fox and knew Nick was a Greenlander, it wasn't a stretch to think he was aware of Nick's past. What if the pups were a decoy, and Nick was really the person they were after? To kill or to use—he wasn't sure, and he couldn't ask, not without risking his life.

The Silvermarker let out a long-stretched, overdramatic yawn. "God of Sloth in the fourth pit of hell—I'm knackered. Can you take the reins?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean—you don't know?"

Nick darted a look over his shoulder and squinted, not sure why he needed the assurance. Bear was out hunting. Upon his return, Nick would be the first to hear his companion's thumping gait in the distance. Still, he wished his friend was here. He had a sword but wasn't a good swordsman.

"My eyes, it's not a good day. I wouldn't be able to see the road," Nick said.

"The horses will lead you."

"Then why would you need anyone holding the reins?"

"Because they've been conditioned to move only when someone has the reins," Phoenix said sharply.

"Fine, but for as long as Bear's out, I will need Burn to be my second pair of eyes."

"Burn, you heard your Kennelmaster."

The boy groaned. "I'm sleeping."

"And now it's my turn," the Silvermarker said.

"I haven't had any sleep." In any other situation, the boy's contradicting statements would have been funny.

"Gods, you're a nuisance! Do what you're told," Phoenix snapped as he pushed the reins into Nick's hands. They were swapping places. For a heartbeat, the horses slowed their trot, then they continued thundering ahead.

"It won't take long. You can go back to bed when Bear is back," Nick said.

"You're all nuisances," Burn mumbled as he stomped towards the front. 

Nick peered into the night, finding not complete darkness but a faint glow of crescent moonlight. The company of the prideful and exhausted prince would be easier on his nerves than dealing with a Silvermarker he trusted less and less with each mile. If the man had received any instructions to kill him, he would either have to go through Bear or leave Burn as a witness. If he killed the boy too, the relationship between King Storm and King River would sour further. 

What would it take for the Icians to give up their neutrality? By Kindness' mercy, he didn't want to find out.

"You're not a nuisance," Nick said to Burn. "You've been very helpful. Without you, we might have still been stuck in that hole."

"So you agree that me using my magic was the best strategy?"

"No, I stand by my opinion. You're untrained—your interference could have had catastrophic consequences."

"Such as what?"

"I'm not against magic," Nick began his explanation, "but I have seen the damages it can do. I live with the repercussions each day. The woman who took most of my sight had no intention of hurting me. But here I am, the pest who keeps you from sleeping."

Burn snorted. "At least, you're nice about it." He shuffled on the bench. "It seems like Phoenix doesn't want me to be here."

Nick lowered his voice. "I don't think he wants me to be here, either."

Burn chuckled.

Nick didn't join in the laughter, too focused on the racket Phoenix was making. A lock clacked open; was the Silvermarker taking an extra blanket or preparing for an attack?

Holding the reins in one hand, Nick rearranged his sword. What were his options? Do nothing and risk being killed before reaching Moondale, or, at best, arrive in the capital and be the only Greenlander at the Silvermarker court. If he didn't want to be killed, then he had to kill. It was as simple as that.

Except, it was everything but simple. Disregarding breaking Ician neutrality if he was wrong about Phoenix, there was the matter of how. He would only have the advantage of the first blow. After that, his opponent would have the advantage of sight. Nick screwed his eyes, hoping to find a flash of white and grey fur. Without Bear, he was defenceless. Vulnerable. Weak.

And he had to consider Burn.

The carriage rumbled along the meandering road. He started to pick up a familiar stomping of paws in the distance, too far to call Bear without waking up the Silvermarker, but near enough for his companion to notice distress. 

"Burn," Nick whispered. "Can you hear me?"

"What is it?"

"If something were to happen, would you know the way home?"

An awkward silence stretched for far too long, then he felt the boy's breathing in his ear. "Erm... follow the Silver Road back north until the Great Big Wide, then turn east until you see the smoke of Bigtown rising above the pine tops." And then came the dreadful question. "Why?"

"Is Phoenix asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Is he holding a sword?"

Burn shuffled on the bench. "He's holding something—it could be a sword."

"He hasn't done that any other night," Nick lowered his voice even more, almost soundlessly mouthing, "I don't trust him."

"He works for my Great Uncle."

"And do you trust him?"

"I don't know. I've never talked to him. Mama wasn't so happy about him teaching me magic, though."

"Burn, do you still want to become a builder?"

"I guess. I found I enjoy working with the dogs even more."

"Yeah, I think you would make a terrific Kennelmaster."

"Okay," Burn said. "But I can't. You are Bigtown's Kennelmaster."

Nick let out a hum.

"What are you going to do?" the boy asked.

"There's a war."

"No, Nick, you can't leave." The boy touched Nick's shoulder. "We mustn't interfere. It's the Ician way—we shouldn't care about what happens elsewhere."

"I tried not caring about the war, but I fear the war cares too much about me. As much as I want to, I'm not Ician. I'm a Greenlander with ties to the Greenlander court. It's not the pups the Silvermarker is after, it's me."

Burn let out a short gasp. "How do you know?"

He didn't. At least, not for sure. He couldn't explain his reasoning to anyone from Ice, let alone a twelve-year-old grandson of the Ician King. "When I tell you to go, turn the carriage and head north. Don't look back, don't wait for me or Phoenix. Don't talk to anyone, and if you must, change your name. Look after the pups."

"No."

"Don't do it for me. Do it for the dogs."

"They'll bond to me."

"That's alright. They'll hunt for you."

Branches cracked as paws stomped along the carriage. A large shadow flickered through the trees. Bear was here.

"Will you promise me, Burn?" Nick asked.

"I don't know," the boy squeaked. "What will I tell Grandpapa?"

"That you chose Ice."

Nick tugged the reins, closer to a hard snap than a gentle pull; the horses' neigh echoed through the valley as their hooves slid over the muddy underground. The wheels were slipping; the wagon wobbled dangerously. Crates, bags, and other objects shifted and tumbled before crashing down as they came to a sudden standstill.

The panic-stricken yipping of the pups almost drowned out Phoenix's nasal cursing, which helped Nick to locate the Silvermarker. He ignored the begging paws that were leaping up the bench.

"My apologies for the rude awakening," Nick spoke with a tongue as silver as the road. "I had to stop—thought I heard something."

"Did the boy hear it too?"

"No," Burn said in true Ician spirit, as Nick had supposed he would.

"It sounded like cracking," Nick said. "The western wheel at the back was already fractured—what if it split further?"

Phoenix groaned. The vague outline of his body revealed him stretching. "I'll have a look."

"I'll join you."

"To do what? You're blind."

"Not entirely," Nick reminded him. "Besides, if you describe what you see, I can help think of a solution."

"Knock yourself out."

Nick sought for Burn's back and patted him; the young prince was trembling. "Hold the reins," Nick told him. Phoenix wouldn't think twice of this remark; someone had to control the horses.

Dodging the pups, Nick shuffled to the back, one hand on his hilt, the other seeking balance. Phoenix's feet landed in the mud with a splat.

"East or west?" the Silvermarker asked.

"West," Nick said.

When he stubbed his toes against the backboard, he clambered over and slid down cautiously. He still landed in a puddle of water. The leaves rustled.

"Bear?" he called out. "Come here, Bear!"

"Yick." The reply was almost instantly, but too soft for his liking. Bear was farther away than he had hoped.

"Can you see anything?" Nick asked Phoenix.

"More than you," he grumbled. "But, no, I don't see anything. It's too dark."

"Burn, turn the wagon. Let us use the light of the moon." The horses would be facing north, and it would give Bear more time to come.

As the Ician Prince steered the horses, Nick scrunched his eyes and scrutinised the Silvermarker. His senses hadn't betrayed him—a sword hung from Phoenix's belt. The lion hilt; King Ariel.

Nick trailed behind the man. He halted as Phoenix crouched down in front of the western wheel and tugged the spokes. This was his one chance, then his fate was up to the Gods.

Nick unsheathed his weapon. Then, as he swung it at the Silvermarker, two firm hands twisted his grip.

"Oh, no, you don't." Phoenix huffed.

Nick lost his sword before he lost his balance. "Bear!" he screamed as smacked down into the mud. 

The taste of vile, rotten earth filled his mouth. It was the least of his concern; a blade slashed through the air. He did the only thing he could: roll under the wagon.

The iron banged against the wood. A hand reached for his foot; Nick kicked back, but to no avail. He found himself sliding through the mud and water, grazed by every rock and stick. This was it; in a few beats, his heart would beat no more. He hoped the Silvermarker would make it quick. A well-placed stab through the back or decapitation.

There came no pain or darkness. A high-pitched bark yapped loudly, an attempt to growl. Nick stopped moving. Teeth snapped; claws scratched.

"Stupid dog," Phoenix groaned. A smack, then a yelp.

Nick caught a glimpse of his sword shimmering in the light and crawled towards it. With the pup distracting Phoenix, the Gods had gifted him another chance. He wouldn't waste it.

Just as his fingertips found the pommel, a piercing howl reverberated through the night. It was the dreadful sound of a blade cutting through flesh. 

Clenching the sword and hoisting himself up, Nick squinted. Dark liquid oozed from the pup with the black socks. His wailing was faint but gut-wrenching. Sweet Number Four; the needy runt of the pack had been the first to come to his aid.

"Wro-wro-wro-wro!" shouted a choir of devastated pups. A white blotch flickered in the corner of his eye.

"Now, Burn! Go!"

The reins slapped, and the horses whinnied; the wagon grazed Nick's back.

He charged towards the silhouette of the Silvermarker, the moonlight reflecting on the man's blade as his guide. But he wasn't alone. A steady pitter-patter darted through the mud, growling and snarling. The white shape lunged at Phoenix; Number One had more force than her younger brother. She sank her fangs into his sword arm.

The Silvermarker cried out, but so did she. Nick hadn't seen how, but he had hit her too. She kept snapping, her teeth gnashing. Phoenix was groaning; he smacked her aside. Thump. Bone against wood. She yelped out in excruciating pain.

A pair of silver eyes reflected through the trees. A white face with a black mane.

The Silvermarker was panting; his back facing Nick.

"Not another step," Nick said as he pressed his sword against the man's neck.

"Or what?" Phoenix spat. "You'll send another runt my way?"

"I've outsmarted you thus far."

"I should have drowned you in the Great Blue Wide."

"So, you were sent to kill me?"

Nick waited for the Silvermarker to reply. Slowly, Bear approached the tree where Number One lay wailing. He sniffed at her, then licked her.

The muddy gravel cracked; Nick edged his blade towards Phoenix' throat. "One wrong move and Bear will tear you apart."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Why me?" Nick asked. "Why are you after me?"

"As if you don't know. You were the Greenlander pawn planted at the Ician court," Phoenix said. "My King couldn't risk it. You're too dangerous."

"A vital mistake. You Silvermarkers could have left me alone, and I wouldn't have been a threat to your plans. The Kennelmaster of Bigtown—I liked my life there, the anonymity, the peace. Far away from the quarrels and duties of the south. Now I'm as far from the Ician as the Greenlander border. You brought me so close to the war, I can no longer ignore it."

"Or I allow you to go back...? We can pretend this never happened."

Nick chuckled. He was pressing the tip of his blade so hard against Phoenix' throat, he was sure he was drawing blood. "Let me explain using a language you understand—I don't have pudding in my brain. You killed one of my pups, and a second is dying. If given the chance, you would stab me in the back."

"I wouldn't, not if you return north," the Silvermarker blurted out. "And you better do. You won't find any friends in Sundale. It's ours, and with it, all of The Greenlands. All hail King Fox."

So that was where Fox was. His thoughts instantly went to Lana; Seb was hopefully still safely in Scoria with his new bride, but not his former fiancee, nor her parents, the guards, his friends from patrol seventeen. Phoenix had just given him another reason to head south, not that he was going to tell.

"Sundale ruled by King Fox," Nick mused. "Bigtown sounds more inviting by the minute. Would you leave me alone if I were to retreat to my kennels, return to the Ician way?"

"What are you implying?"

The Silvermarker was even dumber than he expected. "You go—I go. We both get to live."

"I thought you didn't trust me."

"I also don't like killing," Nick said.

"So I can go?"

"I'm allowing you to walk away from this scene," Nick said. That was only half a lie. "Get up. Leave your sword. No tricks."

The Silvermark rose; Nick made out the shape of his two hands up in the air. He took a few hesitant steps forward, then he stopped. "Any message for my King?" he asked.

"That won't be necessary," Nick said. "It's not in my nature to be vengeful. However..." He stepped backwards, tightening his grip around his sword, in case he needed it. "....Bear, this is a bad man. Attack!"

The scrawny Silvermarker with curly hair still tried to run as the two-hundred-pound mountain dog pounded towards him. He was no match. Bear slammed down on top of him, roaring and biting him ferociously. Bones snapped and ripped through flesh.

Nick drowned out the yelling as he sat down on his knees and picked up Number One. Her fur was wet; she was convulsing. Her yips were shrill and grating; she was suffering.

But so was Phoenix. Any man or woman unlucky enough to find his corpse would think he had died of a wolf attack. Perhaps the owls, ravens, or a starved wolverine would eat most of him, more evidence that he had been a lone and unfortunate man on the Silver Road. 

By the time King Storm began to worry about his pawn, Nick would be long gone; Burn would be safely back in Bigtown.

Nick set Number One on his lap, scratching her behind her ears. She whined, even that hurt. "Good girl, you did so well. You and your brother. Without you two, I wouldn't be here." He stroked her damp fur. "You deserve a name, the both of you. For boldness and bravery, and for being the best pups a Kennelmaster could raise. Your brother... I will always think of him as... Courage. He beat the odds, always pushed through even when others gave up on him. He defended me. I didn't ask, but he was there. And you..." Her heartbeat was slowing; her ragged breath reduced to a whimper. "... I name you Abby. May you hunt forever in the cave of abundance."

He kept petting her until the shaking stopped, until the last whimper left her too-small body. A death that could have been avoided; a death by Silvermarker hands. A death he had avenged.

Bear dropped Courage's lifeless corpse onto Nick's lap, then proceeded to nuzzle his master. Nick didn't care about the roughness of his tongue or the stink of blood. The next river would provide the opportunity to wash away the massacre. It was where he planned to leave Courage and Abby, let them drift back to Ician waters.

"The Greenlander can leave The Greenlands, but the Greenlands can't leave the Greenlander," Nick murmured. "I'm useless at being neutral."

"Arf," Bear confirmed.

"It'll be hard, and we might not find any friends in Sundale."

"Njarf."

"But, wherever they are, we'll find them."

"Yip yo!"

"That's right—let's go."

A long journey lay beyond him, and an even longer one was waiting for him. He would have to pass the ruins of Moondale, trudge through the moors, then cross the Horseshoe Mountains. The river Prudence would lead him to the river Faith. He wouldn't be able to settle anywhere until he beheld the shimmering towards of Sunstone Castle.

And then? The night was long, and there were many more to come. He had hundreds of leagues to come up with a plan.

And an apology to Lana.