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"My Lord of Light, grant us your blessing."
Thoros of Myr's prayer rose beneath the roar of battle.
Flame bloomed along his sword.
The same fire spread to Beric's blade, then to Jaime's sword, and finally to the weapons of the Fiery Hand and the hundred Lannister elites around them.
The Fiery Hand drank their potion and charged.
They leapt down from their horses one after another. Their bodies swelled, their skin went pale, and thick veins bulged across their faces and necks.
Their speed rose until they seemed faster than horses. Red armor flashed through the smoke, and burning swords left bright trails behind them.
Inside the covered wagon, Melisandre opened her eyes.
Her pregnancy had made her body heavy, but the red light in her gaze had not dimmed.
"Thoros," she whispered. "Necromancy? No... they are alive. What interesting magic."
She had lived long enough to see many forms of sorcery, and the frenzied soldiers caught her interest at once.
But they were not the important part.
Her palm pressed against her belly. Then she began to chant in Valyrian.
Darkness flashed through her eyes when the spell ended.
Outside the wagon, the hundred Lannister elites turned black as ink. Thin eyes opened inside their shadows.
The shadows beneath them stirred.
Black eyes opened within those shadows.
From the white wolf's back, Robb watched the charging fanatics without moving.
The wolf lifted one paw and brought it down.
The ground shook.
Several Fiery Hand soldiers were smashed beneath the blow, yet others crawled out from the edge of the impact with broken bones and burning swords still raised.
Bloodwind raised his paw and looked down.
The men crushed into the soil were still struggling to stand.
"Are they resistant to crushing blows," Robb murmured, "or are they simply that hard to kill?"
The claws swept through them. Ice spikes burst from his fur and pierced bodies from below.
Two of the soldiers were pinned through the belly on those claws. Blood poured from their mouths, yet they still clawed at the white fur and tried to attack.
The paw closed like a hand.
The men were cut apart by the other claws, falling to the ground in pieces.
Even so, the red-armored men kept coming.
More of them crowded around Bloodwind's legs. Their burning swords hacked at the ice armor on his lower body until the blades cracked and broke.
The fanatics threw away the broken weapons and grabbed his legs with their bare hands. Some tried to climb up the white fur.
Annoyance flashed through Bloodwind's yellow eyes.
White mist spread from his body.
Spear-like ice spikes burst from his lower half and pierced most of the soldiers around him. Unless a spike destroyed the head, the men continued to struggle even while hanging from the ice.
'The potion has burned out their fear and pain.'
Moqorro raised both hands in the distance.
Orange fireballs tore through the air and struck Bloodwind's side.
Steam hissed from the ice armor. The armor held, but the heat still burned away layers of frost.
Bloodwind turned his head and breathed icy mist over the flames clinging to his side.
The orange fire went out, and several unlucky frenzied soldiers were frozen into statues at the same time.
Robb turned his head.
"Moqorro."
The wolf shifted at once, avoiding the next fireball.
Beric Dondarrion rushed in from the front. His flaming sword broke against Bloodwind's paw, but he still drove both fists into the white wolf's leg, holding on with inhuman stubbornness for one precious instant.
The wolf leaned his weight forward.
Beric's feet sank into the soil, and his huge, vein-twisted body began to bend beneath the pressure.
That instant was enough.
Jaime Lannister rose into the air.
Wind lifted him from his saddle and carried him toward Bloodwind's head. In one hand he held a flaming sword. In the other, he held a Valyrian steel dagger.
Robb drew Ice.
Jaime landed on the white fur and slashed.
Robb raised an ice shield. The flaming sword struck first, and the shield cracked. The Valyrian dagger followed and shattered it completely.
Ice flashed.
Jaime barely twisted aside.
Robb's foot swept across and struck Jaime in the waist.
The Kingslayer spat blood and flew from Bloodwind's head.
He did not fall.
Instead, he struck a cushion of invisible air and remained suspended before the king.
"Kingslayer," Robb said.
Jaime's mouth tightened beneath the grime and smoke.
"Wolf king."
They had once crossed swords in Winterfell for practice. That memory returned for a single heartbeat.
Then the two blades met again.
Jaime was still one of the finest swordsmen in Westeros, but Robb's strength, speed, and perception were no longer human.
Jaime attacked with flaming sword and Valyrian dagger together, the two weapons crossing and changing in a smooth rhythm. For a moment, flame and black steel rolled toward Robb like a tide.
The Stark king defended with the basic swordwork Ser Rodrik had taught him at Winterfell.
The simpler movement was enough.
After three exchanges, Jaime's sword was knocked aside.
After five, Robb cut through the weapon near the guard.
Ice descended toward Jaime's neck.
Wind exploded between them.
Jaime was thrown backward, and Robb's strike cut empty air.
Behind Jaime, a woman in a white mask and black robe became visible for an instant as her concealment failed.
Ayla.
The air around Robb suddenly thinned.
His lungs tightened.
Jaime was dragged away by the same invisible force, carried beyond the range of Ice.
Ayla could not move while maintaining the spell, but Jaime had reached her side. He lifted her and fled across Bloodwind's broad back, keeping just enough distance from Robb.
Wherever the Stark king moved, the air around him continued to be pulled away.
His eyes sharpened.
'So that is your range.'
Ice mist surged from the wolf's body more violently than ever.
Except for the upper half of his head, where the Valyrian steel in his ear interfered with the magic, ice spikes burst across the whole wolf in a wide domain of frost.
From a distance, the vast body bristled with ice.
Jaime and Ayla were forced higher, and fresh air rushed back into Robb's lungs.
Below, Bloodwind crushed Beric into the ground.
The Lightning Lord's body twisted beneath the paw and went still.
Moqorro began to retreat while praying. Thoros shouted, and flames flared again in the distance.
Bloodwind gave a warning growl.
Robb turned.
A shadow had fallen from above.
It struck like a black blade.
Robb twisted aside, and Ice met the shadow's weapon. The impact rang like steel, but the shadow dissolved into smoke before the blade could bite deep.
It flowed around him, reformed, and attacked again.
Robb fought it across Bloodwind's back.
The shadow moved with a face that was half Stannis Baratheon and half Melisandre. Its body was mist, but its sword could cut.
When it condensed, he could block it. When it became smoke, his weapons could do nothing but wait.
He changed his footing carefully, using each opening to move closer to Ice after the blade had been knocked aside.
Fire arrows forced him to raise more ice.
When the shadow withdrew, he finally saw the full strike team before him.
Moqorro. Thoros. Jaime. Ayla. The resurrected Beric. The living shadow.
Robb laughed once.
There was no warmth in it.
"You have made me angry."
Until the duel with Jaime, Robb had still treated the fight almost like an adult watching children test themselves.
Ayla's air magic had changed that.
It reminded him that even with supernatural power, the world still held people and things that could threaten his life.
He sheathed Ice.
Flesh rose from Bloodwind's head and formed a throne around Robb's body.
"Bloodwind," Robb said, "activate Soul Link. Then use Absolute Control according to my thoughts."
The flesh closed around him.
Bloodwind's eyes changed.
For a heartbeat, the wolf's gaze looked almost human.
Then his body began to twist.
The rear legs bent and lengthened. The front claws changed shape, widening like monstrous hands. His spine rose, and the vast white body stood upright.
The battlefield fell silent for a heartbeat.
The ice direwolf had become a towering white werewolf.
He raised one clawed hand toward the enemies before him and crooked a finger.
Then Bloodwind howled.
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