by Bill Albert
Despite the rage that filled her, survival instincts told her she was alone and could not last against those numbers. She took one last desperate stab at the creature she was fighting, missed it, and then started upward through the ice tunnel. Though they were made of ice the stairs were covered with a fine dust that made them easy to climb. Going two steps at a time she managed to get quite a bit of distance between her and the entrance before the elves and orcs started up after her.
She looked up to see just how far the surface was but the distortion of the dancing shadows on the reflective walls made it difficult. She could see a gray spot that looked like the top of the stairs and kept driving upwards. She counted that her hunters were thirty steps behind her and kept climbing.
After a few leaps she looked back and saw that they were crowded into the tunnel but still following her full heartedly.
She concentrated on each step she took, watching before her, looking for traps or slippery patches that could trip her up. She hoped to be getting more distance between them and estimated she was halfway up when she felt something whistle past very close to her ear. She looked down to see just what it was that had attacked her. Three orcs had muscled their way to the front of the attackers and had pulled their bows and arrows for an attack. They had to stand steady to do so, but she knew she made an easy target and could not outrun the arrows.
She stopped and turned to face them in time to watch as the three orcs fired simultaneously. She took a few steps away and dropped onto her back as the arrows cut where she had been standing. She could not have side stepped three projectiles. She looked down at them and saw they had taken a few steps up and were preparing to fire again. She rolled to one side and felt something brush against her thigh as she slid against the wall. She looked down and once again thanked Jakobus for being the fire expert that he was.
She rose and pulled one of the torches from her belt. Her move was so unexpected that even the orcs preparing their next volley at her paused to see what she was doing. She slapped the torch against her flame sword and held it out as the pure hot white light illuminated the ice tunnel. She carefully set it on one of the steps and pulled away from the heat. If this ice had been formed by casting it was no longer present, or it was not cast as defensive, and the heat of the torch quickly started to melt through the step.
She looked up and saw the heat waves hitting the roof and a thin crack form across the clear surface. She allowed herself a brief smile, then turned and ran.
Blinded by the torch the orcs paused for a moment before they realized what was going to happen. They turned to retreat but the mass of unknowing aquilus and other orcs kept pushing forward in their lust to slaughter their human opponent.
She was fifty steps away from the torch when she paused briefly to look back. Weakened by the heat the roof collapsed and the ice-cold water began to cascade down the tunnel. Her relief was short lived when she saw the cracks in the ice quickly moving their way up towards her.
She started leaping two steps at a time and estimated another sixty steps until she was at the surface. She could hear the cracks in the ice rising as fast as she was. Forty steps to the surface and she could see the walls next to her cracking as well. Fifteen to go and the steps beneath her were brittle. Seven and her foot nearly went through the thinning ice. Two and she leaned forward to thrust herself out of the cave. She fell forward and hit solid ground as the stairs completely collapsed behind her. She heard the shattering of ice splashing behind her and took a few deep breaths before looking back.
She was on the very edge of the lake, that much she could see, and she slid on her butt away from the shore. She tried to look around but could see nothing and thoughts of victory and safety quickly faded. As the excitement of the battle wore off the pain from her wounds also made itself known to her.
While they had been underground a storm had formed overhead and though there was no wind a very steady and heavy snow was falling. She had also lost her sense of location in the escape and there were no lights in the sky to help her find directions.
She was lost, she was wounded, she was alone.
TWENTY-SEVEN:
FREEZE
Gallif checked the wound on her side. She was relieved that the armor had healed it and hoped it would aid her own recovery. At least, she hoped, it wouldn’t get any worse. She considered taking some of the healing potion she had with her but decided against it. The cold would soon start to affect her exposed skin and breathing, and she wanted to save it as long as she possibly could.
She looked at the gray surroundings, estimated it was morning, and thanked her luck. They had entered the cave in late afternoon on the previous day, but she was unsure of how long they had all been unconscious after the floor trap.
She spent several minutes trying to recall which turns she had taken and how they related to the entrance and the camp. Which exit had she used? What direction had she run? All she could remember from the arena was the hatred and confusion she had felt after Zaslow spoke.
“No,” she said aloud. She forced herself to put his words away for now. Letting anything distort her thinking would mean death in the snow. She had made a mistake by losing track of Mekon and the party in her blind frenzy and she must work now to correct it.
She looked around her and saw nothing but the dark gray blanket of snow falling. She looked back and realized that she had moved out of sight of the shore and slowly followed her tracks back several feet. It was the only reference point she had for now and she knew her life depended on it.
Getting no other visual guide points from her surroundings she closed her eyes and called on her other senses. She listened carefully but all she could pick up was the very slow lapping of waves dying on the lakeshore. The water was cold and heavy and there was very little movement. She tried to smell anything significant or unusual but there was nothing other than the sharp, clear cold.
She finally stood and, making sure the shore was visible on her left side, started walking. She smiled at the red streamer that Brox had given her and made sure it was still on the proper hand. She also pulled the flame sword from her sheath and waved it around several times. The light from the flames gave her some extra visual distance, but not enough to make a difference. The sword itself also presented a few choices for her. Even though the sword was in flames it gave off a relatively small amount of heat until it came into contact with something, then it was incredibly hot. The warmth could help her at times, but she did not want to injure herself.
The snow at this point was only a few inches deep, but she found that the exit from the ice stairs had been set in a small area enclosed by part of the mountain. It had been protected from the heavy snow and wind and soon she was walking in snow up to her knees. She shivered and wrapped herself up as best she could. The flame sword she held directly in front of her and she would occasionally hold it close to her face to feel the warmth but was being very careful not to burn herself.
Outside of the enclosure the visibility dropped to a few feet and she moved closer to the shore as she walked.
Try as she might Zaslow’s words kept coming back to haunt her. He had told Mekon that she was a bigger threat to him, the giant, than Zaslow himself was. Mekon had told her to ignore it as an attempt to confuse her, but she couldn’t. Why would she be a threat to a giant? She had always honored the Giant Lords and knew that she had been willing to lay down her life for the Third Minister on Festival Day. She had fought to protect Mekon against the ice elementals as well. He had to have been bluffing. Hadn’t he?
Then, she remembered, the look in his eyes when he acted like he knew something about herself that she didn’t. He had been surprised, amused, almost shocked like he had just learned something very big. At that moment he did not look like a liar. It had been close to the look that he had given here when he’d mentioned her parents. He had been right about them.
There was a small cracking sound from close by and she stopped in her tracks. V
ery carefully she looked around for the source, but she could still see only a few feet away. She heard the crack again, closer, and realized it was coming from beneath her.
She looked to her left and saw where the ice ended and the water began. She looked to the right and saw the rocky shore. Lost in her thoughts she hadn’t been paying attention and found herself standing on a thin sheet of ice. There was another crack and she leaped to the shore on her right. She missed it by a few inches and the ice shattered from her weight. Luckily the water wasn’t very deep, only a few inches, and she managed to jump out quickly onto solid land.
She cursed loudly as the frigid water soaked into her boots. She patted the red banner against them to try and dry them before the water soaked deep inside, but it was too late. She stamped her feet in the snow, almost up to her knees, to try and keep them warm. She cursed loudly at Zaslow for distracting her, then herself for allowing him to get away with it. She held the flame sword as close as she dared to her boots, close enough to leave scorch marks on them, for several minutes and then moved on.
She coughed several times and realized she was starting to have difficulty breathing as the temperature was quickly dropping. She finally wrapped the red banner around her face to protect her throat and lungs and feeling desperation sink in she moved on.
Before long the land started to flatten out and she became exposed to a steady wind. The snow was over her knees now and it was getting quite difficult to move. Every few steps she looked to the left to make sure the bank was still within sight as she kept walking. She held the flame sword against the wind so that some of its warmth would flow in her direction. It wasn’t very much, but it helped.
She wondered just how much Mekon had known about Zaslow and was frustrated that he had not told her more. Then she remembered how she had held back from telling him all that had happened and started to feel guilty. The giant had had his reasons for not telling them the whole story just as she had hers. How dare she think badly of the giant?
She stumbled in a large drift and slowly regained her footing.
“Think, damn it! THINK!” she yelled as loud as she could. “Pay attention!” she yelled as she carefully started onward.
“FIVE!” she yelled after she’d made her fifth step. “TEN,” after the tenth.
She had to trust the giant’s motives. They always trusted giants, she told herself. Yes, he had kept secrets from her, but she had kept her own secrets as well.
“Maura,” she said aloud. That sweet, warm, lovely Maura. The secret partner she now held in her heart.
“FIFTEEN!” she yelled hoping that was the right number.
Time and space slowly began to blur and after another hour she found it difficult to keep count of her steps. The wind was so strong now that the flame sword could do no good and she had returned it to the sheath to protect her fingers from freezing. Her exposed skin was tingling, and concentration was getting harder to maintain.
She searched for some ground cover and finally found a small wind break along a rock face. She turned her back to the lake and very slowly and deliberately made her way to the area. She made sure that she walked in a straight line so she could find her way back safely.
Once under cover she fell to the ground shivering. With hands shaking uncontrollably she pulled a healing potion bottle from her pack. She splashed some of the light blue liquid on her face and hands and breathed deeply for several minutes. The tingling sensation started to subside, and she drank half of what was left. She carefully put the bottle back into her pack.
She thought about the gift from Rayjen and found herself giggling. She wondered what would happen if she put herself inside and was amused by the idea. After a few minutes she looked up and saw that the tracks she had so carefully left were gone. They had been blown over by the falling snow and visibility was barely an arm’s length.
She looked down at the snow and slowly got to her knees. Knowing that if she panicked, she would freeze to death she studied the ground for some pattern, some deformity, some clue as to where she had walked, she looked low and carefully and found an odd indentation. She leaned forward and looked beyond it and found another one, then another.
“Damn you, Gallif! Remember your training. You’ve tracked small animals in snow conditions and found them by now. Don’t let him defeat you with his words!” she ordered herself.
The further away from the rock face she went the less noticeable her tracks were and before she reached the shore they were gone. She stood, used her training to force herself to continue in a straight line, and took several bold steps forward until the shore was within sight. By then the tingling in her exposed skin had returned. She faced her right side and started walking again.
Movement was very slow now and in barely an hour she had not traveled more than a dozen yards. The shore of the lake had taken a sharp turn and she carefully turned with it. There was still very little visibility, so she needed to stay close to the shore and be careful not to crack or slip on the ice.
She was exhausted. The cold felt as if it had infested her body like a disease and she felt the ice from the water that had sunk into her boot to take its toll on her feet. She was desperate and running out of time, so she downed the rest of the healing potion bottle. The tingling in her skin and the icy frost on her feet went away.
She forced herself to walk faster and despite her best efforts her thoughts returned to Zaslow. She swung the flame sword violently in front of her to force her to pay attention to it.
“He lied, he lied, he lied,” she said. Faster than before the tingling sensation returned and she held the flame sword close to her face. The thought of touching it, even though it would scorch her skin, toyed with her. It had to be better than the cold.
She forced herself to concentrate again on her own survival and turned to look at the shoreline. She nearly collapsed with grief when she found that it was gone.
She held the flame sword high in the air and let out a scream of frustration that could have shattered glass. Finally, she wrapped her arms around her for warmth and closed her eyes.
“Again,” she said. “Use your talents.”
She took a deep breath through her nose and slowly exhaled. She carefully examined the aromas around her hoping for a hint of smoke from a wood fire or the kind of scent that some animals and people emitted. There was nothing.
She listened intently to her surroundings. There was crackling from the flame sword and she managed to isolate and dampen the sound. She hoped for the muffled echo of someone calling her name or the clattering sounds of horses and riders. Horses! There was something there.
She opened her eyes and looked off to her left and hoped for some sort of movement in the snow. There was none so she took several steps forward and closed her eyes again and listened.
Horses? No, she thought, there was just one horse. Without opening her eyes she took a single large step forward and listened again. As the noise continued a smile slowly spread across her face and she raised her flame sword high into the air.
“There’s only one horse that makes that kind of grunt,” she yelled. “Snow! Snow, I am over here!” she hollered and frantically jumped up and down.
She went forward and listened and again heard Snow grunting just out of sight. She repeated the sequence several times and kept going. Every time she stopped, she called for Snow and could hear a response coming from somewhere ahead of her. She kept moving.
The tingling of the biting cold against her face was getting worse. She kept covered as much as she could and opening her eyes became difficult.
Why didn’t Snow hear her? Why didn’t her companion help?
At one point she stumbled and fell face first into a snow drift. She frantically rolled to get to her feet but slipped on the packed snow and landed on something hard. She opened her eyes and after forcing them to focus she saw familiar territory. Even covered with more than a foot of snow she realized she was in the same point she had started
from after leaving the ice tunnel.
She had gone in circles? She had gone backwards? Out of frustration she screamed and pounded her fists against the snow packed ground.
She pulled the last potion bottle from her cloak. It took her several tries before her shivering hands finally managed to pop open the cork. As she lifted to drink the potion she shivered involuntarily, and the bottle dropped into the snow. In a full panic she tried to stop the contents from pouring out, but her hands just could not work fast enough. She shoved as much of the potion-soaked snow into her mouth as she could and after several minutes the pain started to diminish. It did not go away completely but it made it easier to open her eyes. She could not, however, walk.
Then she heard Snow grunting in the near distance: close enough that the horse had to be very near. She tried to call for help, but even her voice had been weakened by the elements.
She pulled her flame sword close to her and again considered putting her face to it. It had to be better than the cold. She flattened her right hand and gently laid it on the sword. The burning was intense, and she pulled it away after a few seconds. The pain was almost unbearable but at least, she found, she could move her hand.
She propped herself up as best she could and started crawling.
She kept going in a delirious daze. She closed her eyes and crawled forward as long as she could, then she would listen until she heard Snow’s grunting sounds ahead of her. Finally, barely able to see anything other than the white in front of her, she stopped moving and lay flat on her stomach. She could hear Snow very close but just couldn’t get her muscles to move.
She was unconscious when the giant’s arms scooped her up and carried her away.
***
A day had passed before she opened her eyes again. She was wrapped in warm blankets and laying near one of Jakobus’s intense fires on her right side. She didn’t move for several minutes and finally rolled slowly onto her back. Jakobus was sitting next to her and quickly turned and smiled at her.