Dawn of the Ice Bear by Jeff Mariotte

answer, and her uncertainty sent fear through Alanya like a bolt of lightning. “I know not,” she admitted. “Unless it is as Kral suggested, that because I am known here, the traps that lie in wait for others allow us passage.”
    â€œI should not like to rely on that,” Kral said. “But I see little choice.”
    â€œLet’s not tarry then,” Donial urged. “Before whatever force controls them changes its mind.”
    Tarawa seemed to agree with him. She swallowed hard and stepped around the bodies scattered on the passageway floor with eyes wide, hands hooked into claws, as if they had tried to catch whatever had slain them.
    Whether she was right or not, Alanya would never know. But nothing attacked them as they made their way up the narrow corridor. In less time than she would have believed possible they were back out into the cool night air of the desert. There were undoubtedly dangers yet to be encountered—the great snakes, for example, were certainly still on the hunt. But soon enough, the walls of al Nasir’s compound were in sight, and Alanya felt that she could finally breathe again.
    When they could see the gate through which they had entered, Mikelo broke into a sprint. Alanya tried to catch him, but missed, and dared not call out to him. Nothing interrupted his dash, though. Almost before the others could react, he had his hands on the gate’s bolt and was drawing it open. But as she watched—and it could have been a trick of the faint moonlight painting the scene with its silvery glow, but she didn’t think so—the bolt wriggled in his hands, lunged, and bit Mikelo’s hand.
    It had only been a snake for a second, maybe less. By the time the boy crumpled to the dirt, it was nothing more than a bolt again. They ran across the empty space to him, but he was dead when they reached him. Like the mercenaries inside, he had died with his eyes wide open, as if staring at something he would never see.
    Tears sprang to Alanya’s eyes. “Mikelo . . .” she said. “He should never have—”
    â€œHe died free,” Donial interrupted. “To him, that was the most important thing. Not to be a prisoner of those Argossean pirates anymore—that was all that mattered.”
    â€œTrue enough,” Kral said. “You knew him best, of us, Donial. But that is what I believe, as well.”
    Alanya dabbed at her cheek. “I suppose you’re right,” she admitted. She was going to say more, but Tarawa had the gate open.
    â€œCome,” she said. “We have spent enough time here and lost enough lives. When Shehkmi discovers his prize missing, he’ll be furious. I would rather not be close by when he does.”
    None could argue with her reasoning. Even the great snakes beyond the compound’s walls held less fear for them than Shehkmi al Nasir’s wrath. The relief Alanya felt at putting the place completely behind her overwhelmed even her sorrow at Mikelo’s loss.
    Still, as they returned to Tarawa’s house through Kuthmet’s night-shrouded lanes, she could not erase from her mind the image of that bolt turning into a quick-striking snake, and back again, as fast as the eye could follow.
    And as she saw that, she wondered what kind of trouble they had taken on when they had decided to steal from Shehkmi al Nasir.

12
    BACK IN TARAWA’S small house, Kral opened the box and took out the Teeth of the Ice Bear. The crown was not beautiful in itself, but he was surprisingly moved by the experience of holding it. It was a part of his history, his heritage as a son of the Bear Clan. He had never held the crown, had only seen it a couple of times, during rituals held in the Guardian’s cave. But there was no mistaking it.
    â€œWe need to replace that fancy box,” he said. “Carrying that around would attract all manner of attention to it. Have you a sack or something,