On the other side, curled up on the landing of the spiral staircase that went on in both directions, lay the white wolf.

I shut the door and threw my weight against it, panting. No sound came from the hall. It might have been the same wolf that had watched me from across the clearing. Then again, the features about the wolves that tended to grab my attention were their size, speed, and the length of their teeth. Aside from the black wolf, that didn’t leave a lot of room for differentiation. They all looked huge, they were all unnaturally fast, and there was not a single one among them not in possession of teeth that could disembowel a lamb or a man in one snap. Now one of them was outside the door for reasons I could only assume were not in my best interests.

I lost track of how much time passed while I debated whether or not to risk opening the door again. Long enough for me to decide that the only thing worse than opening the door was remaining trapped in the room indefinitely while my bladder threatened to burst. I took a deep breath and lifted the latch.

The Huntress stood on the other side with her hand raised to knock. She looked just as surprised as I felt, green eyes widening as they took in my change of clothes.

“You ate,” she said.

I glanced at the wolf beside her. Golden eyes met mine, revealing nothing.

“Yes.”

You ate? That is all you have to say to me? I thought. Up close, we were almost of a height, for all that she was broader through the shoulders and more powerfully built. She had seemed much larger standing beside the bear.

“Follow me.” She turned and walked away, the wolf trotting at her heels.

My mouth shut slowly as she rounded the bend in the staircase, leaving me alone in the dark hall.

“Wait.” I walked as quickly as I could after her, my boots making more noise than the Huntress and the wolf combined. “I need . . . I need the latrine.”

She looked at me as if I had just spoken gibberish, then pointed toward a narrow door in the center of the staircase’s spiral.

The latrine was spare, nothing more than a board over the long chute, but it had a mirror of polished brass hanging on one wall. I rubbed it with my sleeve. Tangled hair and wild eyes stared back. I tried to straighten my hair, then gave up. It was matted with sweat and long-since melted ice, and no amount of finger brushing was going to undo it. I needed oil, a hot bath, and a comb, none of which seemed likely. You’re as vain as Aspen, after all, my reflection seemed to say. I licked my lips and braced myself for the sight of the wolf beyond the door.