Prince Albert crouched behind a snowbank and watched the black palace that had belonged to his father. Its towers rose like knives against the gray sky. Tall windows caught the last light. His father had ruled from that place until the usurper cut his throat and took the throne. Now Albert wanted it back. But wanting was easy. He had no army, no gold, and no roof to sleep under. The usurper's patrols swept these lands every night. Any move Albert made left him open to capture. He had come north to find a base. Somewhere close enough to plot, hidden enough to survive. So far he had found only snow and dead trees. He rubbed his hands and blew on his fingers. He had two days of food left in his pack. When it ran out, he would have to steal, and stealing meant showing his face. That was when he heard the growl. Albert turned slow. Three great wolves stood in the snow behind him. Their fur was white as the drifts. Their eyes burned gold and blue. They were bigger than any wolf he had seen, and they moved like men who had chosen to walk on four legs. The lead beast bared its teeth. Albert's hand went to his knife. He knew the knife would not save him. "Wait," he said. His voice shook. "I mean no harm. I have nothing worth taking." The lead wolf stepped closer and sniffed the air near his chest. Albert wore his father's ring on a cord under his shirt. The wolf's ears twitched. It looked at him a long moment. Then it did something that stopped his breath. It dipped its head. "You know this ring," Albert whispered. He pulled the cord free and showed the black stone. "My father wore it. He ruled here, before the usurper." The wolf made a low sound, almost a word. The other two circled behind Albert. They did not bite. They pressed against his legs and pushed him, gently, toward the tree line. Albert understood. They wanted him to follow. They led him through the dead woods to a cave mouth hidden by a fallen trunk. Inside, the wind died. Old bones lay in one corner, and the floor was dry. The lead wolf turned and watched him with those gold eyes, waiting. "You served him," Albert said. "You still serve his line." The wolf lay down at the cave entrance and faced the snow. It was guarding the way in. Albert lowered his pack and let out a long breath. He had a roof now. He had walls of stone and teeth to guard them. For the first time since his father died, he was not alone, and the usurper did not know where he was. He pressed the ring to his lips. From this cave, he could finally begin.