Typical Auldek, he thought, display luxury while making one uncomfortable at the same time.

Standing, he wondered what Devoth wanted to talk about this time. He feared he had exhausted his knowledge of usable information. Their last meeting, actually, had a note of finality to it, as if everything had been decided. Devoth had summed up the entire plan of attack. It was to be one great march of virtually the entire Auldek population, all except those unfit the journey. Many of the divine children would accompany them, warriors and servants both. The Auldek did not seem to fear to return the quota to their homeland, at least not the ones they were planning on taking with them.

“It will be a misery,” Devoth said, “but we must begin the journey in the winter. We will spend the first month trudging into the arctic, getting colder each day. We’ll stay all along the coastline, frozen stiff, no doubt, thinking ourselves insane for leaving Avina. On this schedule, spring will start to warm the land at about the time we must leave the coast. Here.” He pierced the map with one of his long fingers. “But then when we turn inland, it will grow cold again. We’ll return to winter. That’s what Calrach swears, and he says it should be that way, because for a time we travel only upon ice, on some inland sea. We must be fast, though. For if we are too late getting there, the ice will thin. We might fall through. Calrach lost several of his tribe to that fate.” Devoth spoke this with an air of solemnity Rialus had never observed on him. “At least,” he added, “they had but one life to die through.”

Strange, Rialus thought, to imagine an existence in which a single death was an oddity. He wondered if such a perspective was a strength, or if it might be a weakness somehow. “I’ve said it before, your magnificence, but, please, allow me to express my concern. …”

Devoth scowled but did not otherwise dissuade him.

“It will not be the same as with the Numrek. The league will certainly warn the empire.”

“You chirp like a cricket,” Devoth said. “Listen, chirp no more. This war will happen. It will be a wonder. You can’t imagine! You don’t know how we go to battle. We haven’t done so in hundreds of years—not since the early days, when we were drunk with the soul catcher’s gift. Few of us even remember those times. But I do. In the past we warred with one another and almost destroyed our race. Ironic, no? We win the gift of immortality and become so high with it that we slaughtered one another like never before. You have no idea. This time, the clans will all join in one massive force. We’ll roll across the land, marching, riding haired rhinoceros and kwedeirs and fréketes. You haven’t seen a frékete yet, have you? Oh, but you will.”