Chapter 6: Snowed In

The storm hit on the fourth night.

By nine o'clock the lodge was shaking, and the power went out in the middle of dinner with a loud bang.

Two hundred wolves argued in the dark about candles.

"The generator's in the cellar," Anders said, "and the cellar door sticks. Tor, take the big lantern."

"I know where it is."

"I'm saying I'll come."

"Stay with the pack," Torin said, and took the lantern off its hook, and went.

I don't know why I followed him.

I told myself it was my wolf's idea.

She had yelled at me for two days, and she wanted to be near the thing she was yelling about.

I caught up at the top of the cellar stairs.

"I'll hold the light," I said.

He looked at me for a long moment.

"Stay behind me," he said.

The cellar was stone and cold, full of crates and old furniture, with the generator in the far corner.

Torin crouched beside it and found the pull cord.

It took four tries, and then it caught, and a bare bulb came on over our heads and swung back and forth.

"There," he said.

Above us there was a long groan of wood. Something very heavy hit the back of the lodge.

I heard the cellar door slam, and then a thud, and then a hush of sliding snow.

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