The first time Della fled north, Annan brought her back to Breeze City. Her second escape had probably taken her into the northern forest and Sea again. That would not have been a problem, except that the thunderous noise that echoed across the world on the first day of the year 999 of the Saint Laurent Calendar had shaken loose centuries of snow from the Snow Mountains. Then the Frost Giant had spread the devastation all the way to the edge of Breeze City.
Della had been caught in a disaster through no fault of her own. Now Annan could only hope she had left the forest and Sea—or that it was not too late...
Back at the Manor, Annan took Della's Dagger from his belongings in the Living Room. Magic Power poured out, the Lesser Summoning Spell took shape, and a snow-covered "statue" appeared atop the fading Teleportation Array.
Annan lowered his dark eyes and silently looked at Della, frozen in ice.
She still held the beauty of her final moment. Curled on her side, her slender body drawn in, she lay with her eyes closed. No wound or sign of struggle marred her delicate face.
Annan had imagined how they might meet again. Perhaps Della would fail and flee the Ratfolk hunting her, seeking refuge in Star-Moon Bay, only to tell him coldly that he was the one who needed protection.
Or perhaps Della would return as an Elf, free at last of the Ratfolk bloodline and its curse, and walk the Allen Continent as a noble Elf.
He had never imagined their hurried last parting would be their final goodbye...
"You're just going to stand there looking at her? Aren't you taking her to be treated?"
The Orc's rough voice broke through Annan's grief. Coming to his