by Alfred Wurr
I lay back and closed my eyes. All right, brain, what’s Frost Walking? I squeezed my eyes together, concentrating, then stood up and paced back and forth.
The Underfrost is oceans deep, a universe unto itself—an abyss of snow and ice that knows no bounds. Since losing my memories, I’d just been wading at the edge of that water, slapping my hand along the surface to splash targets by the shoreline.
But the potions showed me that I’d once surfed that sea like a phantom of frost. That’s the key to surviving it. You’ve got to skim along the surface. If you don’t, you risk being pulled under to drown in its depths, disappearing into its cold embrace forever.
Yet disappearing is exactly what I wanted to do. That is, disappear and pass through solid objects in this world, so I realized that maybe I needed to go deeper and take a metaphorical swim. My hands trembled at the thought, but it made sense. Instead of gliding over the surface, I needed to immerse myself and swim through it, resurfacing back into this dimension at the right time.
I felt sure I could dive in, but far less confident that I could get back out. I’d have to take the chance to free my friends and hope instinct or muscle memory would take over at the right time.
If the Bodhi Group had grabbed them, which seemed almost certain, Dixon would want to question them, and I knew that he probably wouldn’t be too gentle about it either. That meant that they’d probably be there at least a day before he’d either release them or ship them somewhere for further questioning or who knew what. I just didn’t know which was more likely.
They were just kids, and American citizens, but the Bodhi Group protected its secrets. Instead of letting them go, or disappearing them, the Group might have them arrested on trumped-up charges, ruining or severely damaging their futures. I needed to get them out before that happened; ideally even before the Bodhi Group had a chance to question or identify them. While I’m at it, maybe I’ll make a detour to the vaults, too.
The potions Scott had pilfered had restored some new memories and abilities, but most of them seemed to be of the knowledge and skills variety rather than experiential. I still didn’t remember Wilhelm and Olivia further back than a few days ago. Most of the events I did now remember seemed more fragmented—disordered and disconnected in time.
I guessed that the vials contained memories from a different part of my brain (or the equivalent for someone like me). They’d helped make me a bit more myself, but my memory was still mostly gone.
Nice fantasy, I thought. It was going to require a miracle to get in and out with my friends without adding another level of difficulty. I’d try to do both, but if it came down to getting the vials or getting my friends, I’d choose the latter.
“What did Wilhelm mean?” Caleb said, drawing me from my reverie.
“Huh? About what?”
“About spending five years to get you out. I thought you just met him too.”
“I did just meet him. Well, sort of. It’s complicated. You caught that, eh?”
“Sure, I may blaze up. Doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“People underestimate me all the time,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “I got caught smoking weed with some older kids when I was thirteen. The cops showed up and grabbed me. Word got around. I was just a dumb stoner after that. Teachers started treating me differently. Everyone did.”
“That’s messed up,” I said. “Then why keep smoking it?”
“Don’t knock it until you try it, dude,” Caleb said.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, you might want to think about making a change before it’s too late.”
“Pretty sure that ship has sailed, Shivurr,” Caleb said, looking at his feet. “What were those things?” He pointed at the ceiling. “You know, that started the fire.”
“Elementals,” Wilhelm said, walking back into the room. “Fire incarnate. Primitive beasts, uncomplicated in their goals. They’re like fire itself, or animals, instinctual, unrelenting. Minions of the fire demon that spawned and shaped them from fire and crystals.”
“Gnarly,” said Caleb, shaking his head. “How do you know all this stuff?”
Wilhelm smirked. “Dungeons and Dragons.”
“Did you get a hold of Scott?” I asked before Caleb could respond.
“No answer. I tried several times. He’s probably on his way home. If so, Olivia will find him.” Wilhelm held out his hand. “Let me see your hat.”
“What for?” I asked, pulling it from my head.
“Before we head over to Scott’s, I thought I’d give you a few upgrades,” he replied.
“What sort of upgrades?”
He frowned. “Don’t make me spoil the surprise.” I handed it to him, giving him a sidelong look. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.”
“He was kidding, right?” Caleb asked, after he’d left. “And what’s a fire demon?”
Chapter 21
Knock, Knock
Wilhelm tossed me my hat like a frisbee, grabbing the brim and giving it a spin. I snatched it from the air as it helicoptered toward me.
“Thanks,” I said, looking it over. “What did you do? It doesn’t look any different.”
“Turn it over,” he replied, smiling. “Look inside.”
The interior looked unchanged. “I still don’t get it, man.”
“Hold it out in front of you like a basketball hoop,” Wilhelm said. He strode over to the fridge and pulled out a few cans of soda. “That’s it, hold it steady.”
I shrank back reflexively as Wilhelm tossed one of the containers into the air toward me. I watched it, my arms outstretched, chin wedged into my right shoulder, eyes half-closed, as it arced through the air and into the hat. I tightened my grip, expecting the weight of the can to knock it from my hands, but felt nothing at all.
“Shh-wish,” Wilhelm said. “Nothing but net.”
I opened my eyes, retracted my arms, and looked within. It’s empty. My jaw dropped and I held up the cap to show the interior to my friends.
“Wicked,” Caleb said. “You a magician, dude?”
Wilhelm swirled his hands as if waving an invisible wand. “Reach inside.” I did as he asked, regarding him with a puzzled look. “Deeper.”
I kept reaching, still eyeballing him. As I did so, my hand and forearm cooled as if plunged into an ice-cold mountain river. It felt great. I gasped when, up to my elbow in the six-inch-deep hat, my fingers closed around the metal of the can. I withdrew my hand and held up the soda can like a trophy, staring at it with my mouth gaping wide.
Wilhelm beamed, flashing pearly white teeth. “It’s bigger on the inside than the outside and doesn’t add weight. You can store all the liquid you need in there, and it’ll stay nice and frosty.”
“Who are you, dude?” asked Caleb. “That shit’s amazing. You’re not a magician. You’re a wizard.”
He looked at Caleb as he dropped another can inside the upturned hat. “I suppose you could call it magic, but I call it science. It’s cool, though. I’ll give you that.”
“It doesn’t look any different on the inside,” I said, staring at the interior. I pushed my hand into it and watched my outstretched fingers disappear as they reached the cloth, or where the cloth appeared to be. “It’s an illusion of some kind.”
“Sort of, I suppose. Technically, it’s still there, but out of phase, so your hand can pass through it. I’ve tuned it to you personally, so unless you’re touching it, anyone or anything else would hit the cloth and be unable to reach across,” explained Wilhelm. “Basically, it’s just a hat unless you’re touching it.”
“This is awesome, Wilhelm,” I said, this time being careful to use his alias with Caleb around. The kid obviously knew by now that there was much more to Wilhelm than met the eye, but it seemed better that he learn the full story gradually; it was hard enough for me to digest. “Thank you. Seriously.”
“Come on, load it up from the fridge. I’ll get some more from storage.�
� He returned a few minutes later with another two cases, and we loaded those in as well. “These are warm, but they’ll cool down in there in no time.”
“Where do they go? The cans.”
“An interdimensional null space,” Wilhelm said. “Don’t worry, they’re not hitting someone’s house or anything.” He dropped the last can into the hat. “Go ahead. Put it on.”
I did so gingerly, half expecting to be hit in the head by a few dozen soda cans. The cap felt completely normal, not the slightest bit heavier. The only difference seemed to be that my head felt pleasantly cool, as if I were wearing an ice pack on my head.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Wilhelm said. He grinned. “I guess you could say it’s a polar ice cap.”
“Whoa, it’s blue now,” Caleb observed, pointing a finger at my head.
“It’s like that mood ring Lilith wears,” Wilhelm said, nodding. “Shows how you’re doing. It reacts to your physiology and changes colour based on it.”
“You’re kidding?” I walked over to a large decorative mirror hanging on a nearby wall. The cap, once dark black, was now radiant with the colour of the sky on a cloudless summer day. I adjusted the cap, trying different orientations for the best look. “That’s wild. Not the most discreet, though.”
“Pfft, right,” Wilhelm said, chuckling. “Like it’s the hat people will notice when they see you.”
I smiled, pulled the visor low over my eyes, and looked sideways. “What I wouldn’t have done to have had this a few days ago. I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much, my friend. This is truly awesome.”
“Ah, shucks,” Wilhelm said. “Think nothing of it. You helped develop the tech. You don’t remember?” I shook my head. “It was a long time ago. I’ll tell you all about it sometime.”
“Okay, how long have you dudes known each other?” asked Caleb.
“I don’t know,” I said. “My memory ain’t what it used to be.”
“A long time,” Wilhelm said. “No time for that now, though. Let’s—” A phone rang in another room. “I’d better get that.” He returned a minute later, holding a cordless phone to his head. “You’re kidding? Are you all right?” Wilhelm looked at me, wide-eyed. After a moment, he let out a breath. “Can you bring them here?” He paused, listening. “What about the van?… One sec.” He held the phone against his shoulder. “Caleb, do you have keys for the van?”
The teen shook his head. “No, but Brad keeps an extra taped to the spare tire, under the cover.”
“Did you catch that?” Wilhelm said into the phone. “We’ll have to take the chance. I’ll wait by the door to open it. Cruise by. If it looks clear, drive right into the garage. . . . Right. . . . Just make sure you’re not seen. . . . See you soon, beautiful.” He ended the call. “Scott showed up. They’re coming over…and bringing company.”
“Who?” Caleb asked. “My friends?”
“I’m afraid not,” Wilhelm said. He patted the teen on his shoulder. “We’re going to figure this out, buddy.”
“Then who?” I asked, wrinkling my brow.
Wilhelm shrugged. “A couple of dudes in suits. They caught one. They’re going to bring him here. I should get up there and help.”
“Isn’t the garage all burned up?”
“It’s not too bad, actually. The fire didn’t get that far.”
Wilhelm disappeared up the nearby stairs, leaving Caleb and me behind. We regarded each other with wide eyes and confused expressions.
Ten minutes later, we could hear the trap door being opened, followed by heavy footfalls and voices. We both moved to the bottom of the steps as Wilhelm emerged from the stairwell with a body over his shoulder. Olivia appeared moments after with Scott in tow. The computer expert looked around the room as if in a daze. Wilhelm unloaded his burden onto the sofa as Scott, Caleb and I hugged and shook hands. After greeting each other, we joined the Schmidts by the sofa.
“He was lying in wait,” Olivia said. “I had to take him down.”
“You killed him?” breathed Caleb.
Olivia made a face. “No, of course not,” she said. “I wouldn’t bring a dead body back here. He’s just unconscious. When I got back to Scott’s, two men were hiding inside. They waited until I entered, then tried to grab me. We fought; one of them hit me. I defended myself, and that was it. I mean, honestly, what kind of charmer hits a woman?” She touched her cheek. “His parents must have been so proud.”
“You’re awesome,” Caleb said in a faint voice, staring at her.
“Agreed,” Scott said. “I guess I showed up right after. I’m running all over town looking for her and there she was in my living room, standing over this guy.” He rubbed his temples, sighing. “And then I find out Wil and Bear are fine, but now the kids are missing.”
“Where’s the other one?” I asked. “You said there were two of them.”
Olivia shrugged. “Escaped.”
I waved a hand at her captive. “What’re we going to do with him?”
His mouth was gagged, and his hands were bound with what looked like one of Olivia’s headscarves. I didn’t recognize him. His head lolled over the edge of the sofa and he appeared ready to slide off at any moment. His face was unblemished, showing no sign of violence, tinted an unhealthy blue by the soft, dim light of my hat as I leaned in close. To my relief, faint warm air blew across my palm as I held it near his mouth to verify that he was still breathing.
“Question him, of course,” Wilhelm answered. “We need to know who he is and what he was doing at Scott’s.”
“Damned if I know,” muttered Scott, scratching his head. “I still can’t believe you’re alive, Wil. I mean, I’m really glad you are, but…” He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.
Olivia looked at me. “Do you recognize him, Shivurr? Is he a Bodhi Group agent?”
“No, I’ve never seen him before,” I said. “Assuming that he is, why would he and the other guy have come back to Scott’s place after grabbing our friends the first time?”
“Huh? Oh, I don’t know, maybe they came back again hoping to get Scott,” Olivia speculated. “It probably would’ve worked, if I hadn’t shown up instead.”
“Let’s stop speculating and ask him,” Wilhelm said. He pulled the unconscious man from the sofa like picking up a child. “I’ll take him to my office.” He turned to face Scott. “It’s better if you wait here. You, too, Caleb. Grab a drink; try to relax. Play some Dig Dug or Ms. Pac-Man.” He waved to the row of arcade cabinets. “The TV’s not picking up a signal, but you can throw in a VHS tape if you’re bored.”
Scott looked uncertain. “What are you going to do?”
“Find out where our friends are,” Wilhelm said, looking stern. He turned and walked away as if he were wearing a scarf rather than a full-grown man across his shoulders.
Olivia and I followed him down a short hallway to a modest-sized office in which a plush black rolling chair sat behind a wooden desk in front of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A computer sat on the desk, monitor glowing green. Wilhelm dumped his cargo onto the small black leather sofa that sat against the opposite wall, next to the door.
Standing erect, he held the back of his hand to the side of his mouth and in a low voice said, “Time to find out what happened to the kids.” Then in a louder voice, “Olivia, if you please.”
The brunette beauty stepped forward and ran her hand across the comatose man’s forehead. Seconds later, his eyes started to flutter and then opened. His expression was relaxed, as if he were waking from a pleasant sleep, then changed quickly to alarmed as his eyes focused and he saw the three of us standing over him.
Wilhelm stepped forward, grabbed the guy’s chin and looked him in the eyes. “I’m going to take that off. Don’t bother calling for help; no one can hear you down here. Understood? Good stuff.” He reached down, fumbled around for a bit, and pulled down the gag. “All right, man. What’s your name?”
“I don’t know who you are,” the man hissed,
“but you’re in big trouble, pal.”
Wilhelm sighed theatrically. “Come on, man. Can we skip the part where I get nasty and you answer my questions anyway? It’s a simple question.”
The man just glared.
“All right, I’m going to call you Sue. You look like a Sue. Where are they, Sue?”
The man mumbled something.
“What’s that? Speak up, Sue.”
“Phillip,” said the man, red-faced and glowering. “My name’s Phillip.”
“Oh? Well, all right, Phillip.” Wilhelm grabbed the man’s chin with an iron grip and stared him in the eyes. “Where are they?”
“Who? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that shit. Four kids, Phillip. Two gals, two guys. A blond-haired girl, early twenties, looks like a cheerleader with a Colgate smile. Name’s Lucy. She’s got a big heart. Her boyfriend, Brad, a few years older, maybe. Feathered brown hair, kind of a James Dean type. Then there’s Lilith. Long-haired brunette pixie, about five-five, sixteen years old, and her surfer dude boyfriend, Alan, muscular, athletic, about five-ten.”
Phillip wrenched his face away and pursed his lips, making a hocking sound. Lightning fast, Wilhelm slapped the man hard. “You don’t want to do that, man.”
The man eyes flashed like fire; he swallowed audibly. “I don’t know anything about any kids.”
“Tell you what, Phil. You’ve lost your partner, right? Help me find my friends and I’ll help you find yours.”
“Get bent,” Phillip said, looking away.
“Who do you work for?” I asked, stepping closer. “Are you from the Institute?”
He flinched as I moved closer, staring daggers at me.
“Are you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Phillip said, snarling.
“All right, fuck this,” said Wilhelm. He touched a hand to the man’s forehead. His fingertips appeared to glow, and a halo of light enveloped the man’s skull. Phillip’s eyes closed tightly, his jaw tensed and a vein at his temple started to pulse, accompanied by beads of perspiration that trickled over his cheek and down his neck. “Interesting. He’s resisting, somehow.”