*
The tremors were growing louder. Being made from snow, Anthony assumed that even when they were afraid the people of snow could maintain facial expressions that belied their true feelings. Unlike the flesh, bone and sinew of humans which would stretch and grimace and paint their emotions for all to see Anthony thought that the snow could hide all, but it did not. They huddled here and there and the fear was obvious, he even saw a few icy tears.
Snowmen and Snowwomen clung to one another in fear, in hope. The terror which had gripped Anthony when he'd first seen the giant standing outside the city had been broken by George who, with a cold firm grip, had pulled him down out of the towers and towards the cave. George had told him that the people were retreating back to the cave from whence they'd come and that the Frosts insisted he go with them. The longer they stayed down there the more Anthony got the feeling of responsibility for what was happening, the more he got the sense that he should make his way upstairs and end it.
“This is wrong”, he said out loud.
“What do you mean?” said George who sat close, his snowy chin in snowy hands.
“They are here for me.”
“Do you want to go with them?” asked George, looking at Anthony.
The mortal thought about it for a while. “No, they come to force me. I understand very little of what's happened to me since I came here, but I understand your kindness and I understand enough of the nature of power to know that those who would coerce me against my will have no care for me beyond the fulfilment of their own aims.”
“Then put the doubts from your mind. The Frosts have said that you are our welcome guest and will remain so until you decide otherwise, have faith that they can protect us.”
“Can the Frosts overcome the forces of this King Corul?” Anthony asked.
George shook his head. “If they could then I do not see why they would not have protected our way of life before, rather than cause us to fall down into the long sleep.”
“Then why do you not sport the same despair as your fellows?”
“Hope, Anthony Hallow, hope. If our victory over our enemies was always assured then we would never need to hope, and it is in hoping that we learn much of our own resilience and will to be”, responded George.
“Profound”, said Anthony.
“As I told you before, sophisticated Snowmen”, said George with a hint of a smile on his snowy lips.
Anthony looked around the cave again. It was at the far end of Snowdell that the entrance had been placed. It had looked a little bit like a sink-hole when George brought him to it but the Snowman had assured him that it was safe, and after watching several Snowmen slid without hesitation into the hole he did the same. He'd slid for some time down, spiralling down into the ground. He'd landed on a soft mound of snow and taken stock. The cave was more of a cavern, carpeted with thick mounds of snow which he soon learned had been there since Avalen began.
It was out of the original snow that the people of Snowdell had come and it was back here that they fled. The cavern had the sense of age, the rocks had frosty beards and thick veins of white and silver. For many centuries the people had slept here waiting for the snows to fall above once more. Now they had, yet the reprieve from their enforced hibernation seemed likely to be short-lived judging from the now constant rumbling which was coming from above them.
“Doesn't it make you angry to hear that which you have built being damaged so?” Anthony asked of George, who again gave a wry smile.
“They can knock it down and we will rebuild it twice as fast. Fear not for Snowdell Anthony Hallow, the buildings can always come back.”
Despite the positive note, Anthony could not but feel doubt as he listened to the constant thunder from above.
Beyond the Dream Page 32