by Sarah Noffke
Sophia shook her head, always surprised by the things her dragon said like he was a hipster millennial. She figured in a way he was, being the first of the new generation of dragons.
The eyes of the bear were similar to Lunis’. They appeared full of ancient wisdom. The black she’d seen in the chasm had felt as though it was more than just darkness—like something of great power resided there. She witnessed the same thing in the bear’s eyes.
Sophia didn’t know if they should make the first move since the creature was merely looking at them.
Should we introduce ourselves? she asked. One of the many benefits of the chi of the dragon was the Dragon Elite could speak the language of any race or culture. As world adjudicators, it was crucial they could communicate with everyone.
I’m not sure, Lunis responded. I get the impression he wants to both eat you and help.
Why does he have to be a “he?” Sophia questioned.
Lunis sighed. Because there’s no pink on his armor. Is that the answer you’re looking for, Sophia?
She shook her head. You and your stereotypes. Just because someone is female doesn’t mean they like girly stuff or the color pink.
A loud roar spilled from the bear’s mouth, his canines dangerously long. The sound filled the air and made the snow on the hill where he stood vibrate.
I think we should discuss gender stereotypes later, Lunis suggested, tensing beside Sophia.
She nodded. Good call. I think introductions are about to happen, but I’m not sure if they will include a cordial hello or just a bunch of claws and teeth.
Let’s prepare for both, Lunis said as the bear charged in their direction.
The light was nearly blinding as it spilled across the bear’s armor as it progressed down the embankment, snow flying up from his giant paws. The armor made a clanking sound that reminded Sophia of ancient battles she’d never been a part of.
She tightened her grip on Inexorabilis, but something told her not to raise her weapon.
Listen to that, Lunis encouraged at her side.
You don’t think we should fight, she questioned, watching as the bear made incredible progress. It would be on them any second.
In battle, there is a time to fight and there is a time to stand down, he offered. As an adjudicator, you have to know the difference. What does your instinct say?
It was hard for her to hone in on her instinct with a massive beast racing toward her with teeth bared and black eyes staring them down, but under the rising fear was a small voice telling her, “Stand down.”
To Sophia’s own surprise, she sheathed her weapon on her hip, not something she would normally do if a giant dragon wasn’t by her side, but she felt her actions would send a message to this bear she sensed was beyond sophisticated.
The magical bear seemed like it was going to barrel straight into them, not having slowed at all. The momentum of sprinting down the hillside had made the bear move so fast it had been a blur for a moment.
Hold your position, Lunis encouraged. Don’t even blink.
Sophia didn’t think that would be a problem since she wasn’t even breathing. She stayed stone-still as the bear ran, a beautiful grace in each of its movements. It sped past the penguins and straight in their direction.
Sophia had forgotten about the birds who were waddling in various areas, her attention on the beast speeding in their direction.
The bear showed zero signs of slowing down, and the sound of its armor clanging together grew louder. The fierce expression in its eyes deepened. Seconds from careening into the dragon and rider, the large white bear skidded to a halt and sent a barrage of snow onto Sophia and Lunis, drenching them completely.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Not moving, Sophia and Lunis stared at the huge bear that stood in front of them. She didn’t even shake off the snow covering her shoulders and head. Lunis also stayed immobile, facing off with the bear.
The bear wasn’t as large as Lunis, but it was close. Sophia knew without a doubt if they fought with the warrior-like bear, it would be a deadly battle. This was a creature built to fight. It was wearing a special armor that no doubt would protect it from Lunis’ fire and Sophia’s magic.
As the beast watched them from across the short distance, Sophia couldn’t tell whether it was leaning toward a cordial introduction or a battle to the death.
She assumed when it had just charged in their direction, it was a test of sorts. Did it want to see if they’d fight? Did it think they’d flee? Lunis could fly, a definite advantage over the bear.
Sophia didn’t want Lunis to fly until his wing was repaired, and what he’d said about knowing when to fight really struck a chord in her. It was part of her strategy as a new dragonrider. The other men were always quick to pull their swords and use force, asking questions after. Sophia preferred to rely on strategy and talk things out, not assume every conflict had to result in violence.
Sophia studied the peculiar creature and took in the beautiful design of its armor. Now that it was closer, she saw there was a large medallion hanging around its neck. A beautiful blue stone sat in the center of the talisman, and symbols she didn’t recognize running around the edge. She wished the chi of the dragon gave her the ability to read any language too. Since it was more of an automatic thing, the skill didn’t lend itself to writing, only talking.
Sophia desperately wanted a clue about whether this strange bear was a potential friend or foe. She reasoned it was intelligent based on what it had done so far, and it was wearing advanced armor and a medal around its neck.
If Bermuda Laurens was there right now, she might know about this bear. A strange time to remind herself she should have read Magical Creatures cover to cover already.
“You put away your sword,” the bear said, his voice deep and carrying a peculiar weight to it. A talking bear shouldn’t have surprised Sophia. She had spoken to talking cats, crocodiles, and of course dragons, but there was something different about this beast.
Sophia didn’t respond right away. Instead, she took the opportunity to brush snow off her shoulders and shake out her hair. Lunis stayed still, however, the snow framing his shoulders and contrasting with his blue scales.
“I do not wish to fight you,” Sophia finally answered, pinning her hands behind her back and holding her chin high.
“But you are human,” the bear argued.
“Which means?” she questioned. Penguins were waddling around in the background, many of them making their way over.
“Humans choose to defend even when there is nothing at stake,” the bear declared. “It is a point of pride for them.”
“And bears are known for being aggressive and irrationally violent,” Sophia claimed. “We should probably throw out our preconceived notions about one another and start fresh.”
He tilted his head to the side to view her from a different angle like it might help him see any lies. “I am Ickhart, protector of the queen mother, the ice fortress, and the great defender of Kalisbell.”
Sophia went on one knee and bowed her head to the massive bear. “An honor to meet you, Ickhart.” When she stood, the creature relaxed slightly, although still ready to fight if necessary. “I am Sophia Beaufont, a rider for the Dragon Elite.”
“And?” Ickhart asked as if this information wasn’t enough.
“And what?” she queried and held out a hand to indicate Lunis. “Do you mean my dragon. His name is Lunis.”
Ickhart shook his head. “No, what else are you, Sophia Beaufont? Who do you protect? What do you defend?”
“People,” she said simply.
“Which people?” he questioned as the penguins gathered around them, curiosity evident on their little faces as they looked between the two parties.
“Those who need someone to fight for justice,” she explained. “Who is the queen mother?”
His gaze darted to Lunis before returning to Sophia. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Can you t
ell me where the ice fortress is?”
“Not yet, I can’t,” he answered.
Sophia assumed this queen was the one she needed to see to get the antidote for Quiet. She also thought the ice fortress was where she needed to go. This bear Ickhart was the perfect creature to lead the way, but the reluctance in his gaze and tone was palpable. She hadn’t won his favor yet and hoped it wouldn’t be done with a fight.
“And what is Kalisbell?” she asked. “Is that where the ice fortress is located?”
He shook his head. “It is the great kingdom to the north of here. It is my homeland and constantly warring with the Vaskit to the east.”
“The Vaskit?” Sophia questioned. “Are they like you…a…”
She didn’t know how to put it. What if calling him a bear was offensive? In her world, that’s what he was, although she could see he was so much more. Ickhart wasn’t like the bears she knew about. He was extremely intelligent. She’d observed that when he had been up on the embankment. His armor was constructed using the finest craftmanship. His voice was full of confidence that only came from a deep knowing. Yes, this creature was beyond intelligent.
“I’m not a bear,” he finally said when she’d trailed away. Ickhart must have sensed what she had been thinking, reaffirming her assumption about his intelligence. “Just as a Neanderthal isn’t a magician. You might look alike, but there are key differences between the two. My kind are known as the Bruistic.”
“And the Vaskit?” Sophia questioned. “What are they like?”
The bear laughed, a sound resembling an abrupt cough. He threw his head to the side and pointed to the area behind them. “You already met one and did me a favor by destroying it, which is why I’ve spared you and given you this opportunity to use your words instead of forcing you to use your sword.”
“The abominable snowman,” Sophia guessed. The creature was no longer there, only mounds of snow. “That’s the Vaskit?”
He nodded. “Yes, a savage race who have warred with the Bruistic for centuries. The one you killed was an especially horrible beast who had attacked Kalisbell many times.” He bowed his head. “We aren’t friends. Barely acquaintances, however, you have my gratitude for killing that monster and for saving the penguins.”
The birds were gathered around them now, seemingly able to understand the conversation transpiring as they glanced between Sophia and Ickhart.
She was about to explain they were simply trying to survive when Lunis encouraged her silently not to.
Make a demand, her dragon suggested. This is not a creature who will be endeared to your humility. Saying “you’re welcome” and smiling about the matter will get us nowhere.
That had been exactly what Sophia was about to do, but she knew Lunis was right. She had to use this to their advantage.
“We’re looking for this ice fortress and its queen,” Sophia said. “Since we have done you a great favor, will you return it?”
Ickhart considered her, his expression not giving anything away. “What do you want with the queen?”
“I have a request for her,” Sophia explained.
“As do many,” Ickhart responded, his eyes narrowed. “How did you know where to find her?”
“My fairy godmother,” she answered, unsure if it was the right answer. She still didn’t know who or what this woman was the queen of. The only things out there were ice and snow and cold. This wasn’t a land with great exports of fine foods or exotic spices.
Her answer got Ickhart’s attention. “You have a fairy godmother?”
“Yes,” Sophia replied. “And she told me in order to save Quiet, I must find this queen for the antidote.” It seemed logical to just come out with it all. Ickhart was the barrier between her and the queen. She needed him to want to help her.
He didn’t respond. Instead, her ears were met by a thunderous sound as the ground shook under their feet, a sensation Sophia was growing used to since coming to the Antarctic.
In unison, Sophia and Lunis turned to find the crack formed by the angry Vaskit was growing in width. The crevice wasn’t getting closer to them, making Sophia fear she’d fall into the black chasm. Instead, it was pushing them out, like they were on a sliding floor. A door opened beside them.
“What is happening?” Sophia asked, turning her attention back to Ickhart.
The Bruistic smiled, an expression of surprise on his face. “It appears the queen has heard your request and granted you entry into the ice fortress.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
When the rumbling had stopped, Ickhart led them to a spot next to the chasm’s edge, where a staircase descended into the blackness.
“The ice fortress is down there?” Sophia asked.
Ickhart shook his massive head. “The ice fortress is all around you. You are already in it without realizing that. But to have it revealed, then yes, you must descend.”
The staircase disappearing into the strange darkness didn’t seem especially safe. For one, it was made of ice, which Sophia thought was not the best material for such things given it was so slippery. Also, there were no guard rails on the side, a safety precaution someone had overlooked. The bottom of the staircase ended abruptly, total blackness meeting the edge.
Swallowing down her hesitation, Sophia said, “Is this safe?”
The question was mostly a joke, so Ickhart’s answer surprised her. “It absolutely isn’t. One misstep will send those seeking the queen mother to eternal doom. Only those with sure feet and a pure heart can make the journey.” He addressed Lunis. “You will be automatically transported inside the fortress if your rider makes it to the bottom of the staircase.”
“And if I don’t?” Sophia asked.
“Then he will perish,” Ickhart replied plainly. “As will you.”
“There’s no soft landing on the other side of the blackness, I’m guessing,” she joked and peered over the side, trying to get any further clues.
“The blackness never ends, Sophia Beaufont,” Ickhart explained.
“Cool, cool.” She tried to sound casual and gave Lunis a tentative expression. “So I just venture down this staircase and when I get—”
“If you get to the bottom,” Ickhart corrected.
“Right.” Sophia drew out the word. “If I get to the bottom, then you’ll join me. Sound good?”
She half hoped Lunis told her no, and they should find another way that didn’t have such drastic repercussions, but her dragon nodded his head. Yeah, go for it but take it slow and follow your instinct.
She forced a smile, trying to act as though this was no big deal.
I’m going down a slick ice staircase into the middle of who knows where and if I fall, I never stop. No biggie.
Sophia reminded herself this was all so she could meet a mysterious queen protected by a race of creatures she didn’t even know existed and who had battled snowmen for ages. The world was a strange and vast place, and there were so many things she had to learn about it.
Sophia desperately hoped she would get the chance to do so as she took her first step down the giant staircase.
Chapter Thirty-Six
To say the first step was slippery would be a severe understatement. For a moment, it felt like she was trying to walk down a waterfall.
Her hand went for the wall next to the one side of the staircase but pulled it back with a yelp. It was as if the cold ice wall had bit her fingertips.
“There are no accommodations to assist you down,” Ickhart said at her back.
Sophia knew turning her attention to the Bruistic would put her off balance, and probably end her at the top of the staircase, so she simply nodded. She had a feeling the task before her might be impossible.
She had planned to hug the edge of the staircase next to the wall, but even being close to it gave her a pinching feeling. No, it was better if she stayed in the center of the staircase.
The blackness on the other side of the stairs was oddly mesmerizing, calling her atte
ntion, but she guessed it was a trick and she’d get sucked into a hypnotic display.
She needed to keep her attention straight ahead on the next step. The only problem was she could hardly make out the next bluish step, let alone the three after. There was only enough light to see a short distance.
Descending into a dark chasm that had given her a sense of foreboding, when she couldn’t see where she was headed, might have been the most intimidating thing she’d ever done. But there was no turning back now. Quiet needed her. The Gullington was relying on her. She silently sent positive thoughts to the men defending their home, hoping they were holding their own. She wished she was there fighting alongside Wilder and Mahkah, but her journey had taken her away.
“To a mysterious and deadly staircase I have to descend on my own,” she said, talking to herself. She thought the sound of her own voice would make her feel better, but it echoed off the ice walls and made her feel like she was surrounded by a howling ghost as her words repeated over and over.
Consumed with fearful thoughts, Sophia had forgotten how cold she was. Her teeth chattered as she took another step, her footing never so intentional. The next couple of stairs illuminated. The whole thing reminded her of the Martin Luther King quote:
“You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.”
It seemed like a good description of how her life had been going lately. She could hardly see much past the proverbial headlights, but she could see enough to keep moving forward, as she was now.
Faith was a tricky thing for Sophia. One had to wholeheartedly believe in something to have it, and yet, the first plunge into it was often done blindly.
“Just take the next step,” Sophia whispered to herself.
The whispered voice echoing back at her was a chorus of encouragement, surprisingly helping her to progress.
“Just take the next step.”
“Just take the next step.”
“Just take the next step.”
Sophia found herself smiling. Had she figured this out? It was a game of confidence, and she had self-soothed by using her words and her voice.