Hexult

by Perry Aylen

  Suddenly Jacob spotted something, a stone’s throw away on the port side. At first he thought it was merely a shadow created by the moving mist, but then he saw that it was actually a narrow fracture, with a puckered lip of ice running along its edge, partially obscured by the spectral veil floating above it. He gave a shout and they all swung round to see what had alarmed him.

  The crack drifted in and out of view as they travelled. Gradually it was widening, gaping lips framing a deep dark shadow. Smoky mist rose up from the depths like the breath of an ancient monster. Jacob stared transfixed at the gaping line, visible one moment, cloaked in a white miasma the next. Across the divide, he glimpsed the sheer wall of the far side of the crevasse, a deep, dark, shadowy blue, growing blacker as it descended, like the night sky, devoid of moon or stars. The yawning darkness, so stark against the vast white blankness of the ice plain was wide enough now to swallow the Aurora should she sail too close. Jacob imagined her slipping soundlessly over that deadly rim. The yawning darkness hypnotised him, drawing his gaze, as if the crevasse was pulling him towards it. As he stared, the flat ice beneath the boat began to tilt, tipping them towards the edge of the gaping void. Jacob’s head spun, and he tried to back away but his sense of balance had gone. The boat yawed and he tumbled against the rail, grabbing at it clumsily in an effort to steady himself and keep from spinning headlong into the chasm.

  ‘Are you all right?’ called out Aulf, seeing Jacob stumble as the Aurora turned to run parallel to the crevasse. Jacob, recovering himself, gave what he hoped was a reassuring wave.

  ‘Lost my balance, that’s all,’ he called back, with false cheeriness, still shaken.

  Ingar gave another shout and pointed ahead. A smaller fissure, an offshoot of the first, drifted into view across their path. Instantly, Aulf swung the Aurora again to give the new danger a wide berth. Elya recalled the conversation she had had with Aulf about the Vajra. She now understood his reluctance to sail close to the crevasse. It was treacherous terrain, sinister and unpredictable. With the swirling mists obscuring the ice, she was beginning to see shadows all around, as if the Vajra was alive and reaching out with groping claws to drag them down into its cold dark belly.

  They all breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief when they reached the end of the fissure, giving the tip a wide berth in case it should choose that very moment to heave more of the ice asunder. Shortly after that, the mists subsided and they sighted Barley. Even at a distance, it was apparent that the island was low-lying, hardly more than a shallow mound breaking the flatness of the ice around it. It did not look a hopeful candidate for a light tower.

  As they drew closer, they could make out a farmhouse, with more buildings further inland, and a few low pontoons at the edge of the ice. They moored up at one of these and jumped down.

  ‘Listen,’ said Ingar. ‘Do you hear that?’

  They all stood still and listened. In the distance, a strange high-pitched drone rose and fell.

  ‘Whatever is that?’ Jacob wondered.

  They started along a track that wound up to the farmhouse. As they walked, the noise grew louder, and different levels of sound within it became more distinguishable. All at once they realised what it was - the barking and howling of hordes of dogs. Close to the house they could see the animals in fenced paddocks, and a few elderly dogs roaming free. There were the usual blue-eyed, white-coated ice dogs, but there were also larger animals in striking patchwork coats of black, brown and white. But all of them had one thing in common; their attention was fixed firmly on the four newcomers to their island, approaching along the path towards the farmhouse.

  Most of the buildings Jacob and Elya had observed so far in Hexult, were built into the rocks of the islands, to make the most of the heat that rose from the ground below. Here on Barley there were few rocks, so this house had been built on the flat ground, and the earth piled high around it, for insulation. Even the roof was turfed, as if the house was trying to disguise itself as a little hill.

  Jacob knocked on the farmhouse door, but no one responded, so they walked around the outside to see if they could spot signs of life other than the countless dogs, but they found no one. Eventually, they returned to the Aurora to wait for the owner’s return, and for nightfall.

  Aulf’s sharp eyes were the first to notice the distant speck on the horizon. He peered through his goggles at the approaching dot. ‘Moving at quite a speed.’

  Jacob frowned. ‘Could be raiders.’

  Aulf shook his head. ‘No. It’s coming directly for us, into the wind, so it’s not a boat. It must be a dog sled, so I guess it’s the owner of this place.’

  They did not have to wait long to see that he was right. The sled shot over the ice towards them, snaking as it approached, and drawing to a noisy panting halt, in a flurry of powdered ice, at the next pontoon. Instead of the usual team of six dogs, this sled had nine. A fur-muffled figure jumped off the sledge and released the dogs, one by one. As each animal was set loose, it raced away, up the track to the farmhouse. Finally, only the lead dog was left. When the trace was removed this one did not run, remaining instead at the driver’s side. Driver and dog made their way to the end of their pontoon and along to where the Aurora was moored.

  ‘Are you after some dogs?’ called the driver, approaching the side of the boat.

  It was a woman’s voice. This took them by surprise as they had supposed the driver to be a man. Now, as she pulled off her fur hat, and tugged down the thick mufflers from the lower half of her face, they saw that she was a young woman, probably about Ingar’s age, with glossy brown hair, braided behind each ear.

  Jacob was the first to recover his wits. ‘Thank you, but no, it’s not dogs we’re after. We need a favour.’

  The dog sled driver was looking them over, taking in the boat and the four young strangers, as she unfastened the bulky fur coat she was wearing. By her side, the lead dog waited patiently, tongue hanging pink from its panting mouth.

  ‘Would you like to come aboard?’ Jacob invited her. ‘We’ll explain why we’re here.’

  For a moment, the woman on the pontoon did not move. She and her dog regarded Jacob with the same alert gaze, the dog from eyes of intense sky blue, and the girl from eyes the colour of polished oak. Then she made up her mind and jumped lightly on board, the dog following her in a single bound.

  ‘My name’s Svanah,’ she told them, after Jacob had introduced himself and his three companions. She laid her hand on the head of the dog at her side, ‘and this is Whisper.’ She looked round at them all with interest. ‘I’ve heard your names before,’ she said to Jacob and Elya. ‘You’re the two wizards. I’ve heard about you and the prophecy.’

  She seemed remarkably at ease for a lone girl confronted by an unknown vessel with four strangers on board, but with the dog at her side, they understood her lack of fear. Whisper was big, waist high to his owner, with powerful shoulders and a broad muzzle, well armed with strong white teeth.

  ‘What’s this favour you wanted? I can’t guarantee an answer. This is my parents’ farm, but they’ve gone to Pelago to deliver a pack of dogs. I’m left here to look after the others.’ As she spoke, the big dog at her side sank down into a prone position on the boards of the deck, its head resting lightly on its front paws, but its eyes watchful and attentive.

  ‘We were hoping we could wait on your island tonight, to look for a light from Quayven,’ Jacob told her.

  The girl regarded him intently from her light brown eyes. ‘You’re wasting your time. My family has lived here on Barley since the first settlers came to Hexult, and we’ve never seen a light from Quayven.’

  ‘Ah, but we’ve got someone lighting a fire on the highest point on Quayven mount,’ Jacob explained, in an effort to convince her. ‘And it’s our last chance.’ There was a hint of desperation in his voice. ‘This is the last island out from Orking Do, so if we can’t see it from here, we’re stumped.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Svanah. ‘I can’
t help you.’

  She made to leave and Whisper responded by rising to his feet in one easy move.

  Elya called after her. ‘Wait a moment!’

  The girl turned back to see what she wanted. Elya had a small metal bar in one hand and a sharp stone in the other. She struck them together and Svanah’s eyebrows soared upwards as the bright sparks burst over the deck. ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s a wizard striker.’ Elya held it out to her. ‘It makes lighting a fire simple. This one’s for you.’

  The girl looked wary. ‘I just said I can’t help you.’

  ‘Take it anyway. It might be useful.’

  It was apparent from Svanah’s face that she was fascinated by the striker. ‘It would be very useful on sled journeys,’ she admitted. ‘There’s no stove on a sledge.’

  Elya smiled. ‘Next time we meet, we’ll be friends, not strangers.’

  After a moment of hesitation, Svanah reached out and took the wizard striker. For the first time since they’d met, she smiled. Hopping easily over the rail, Whisper following, she waved them goodbye as she retreated along the pontoon toward the house.

  Jacob gave his sister a peeved look, as the Aurora began to move off from the shore. ‘We could have talked her round. You didn’t try very hard. Now we’re going to have to wait out on the ice. It would have been much warmer on land, and we’d have had more chance of spotting the signal fire.’

  ‘She was wary of us,’ Elya pointed out. ‘If you want to build a tower here, you need her trust.’

  Sailing round the island, they made supper, and settled down to wait for nightfall. Ingar produced a game of Mancala, and was surprised to find that Jacob and Elya knew it already, although they played a version with only three stones per pot instead of four. It was a simple wooden board, with the pots carved into it, worn smooth and dark through time. The pieces were small, round stones, which fascinated Jacob. Aulf told him that they had come from Elizabeth Island, where there was a seam in the ground full of them.

  ‘How do you think these stones became round?’

  Aulf shrugged. ‘I’ve never thought about it.’

  ‘Our father bought a few of these off a traveller. He said that once, before anyone can remember, the seas were not ice but melted water. The water rolled the stones together and made them smooth.’

  Aulf laughed. ‘I like it!’

  Ingar picked up one of the pebbles and held it up to the light of the lamp. ‘I can’t imagine that,’ she said, a note of wonder in her voice. ‘So much water! That really would be incredible to see!’

  Out on the open ice, the night air was bitterly cold. They stood on the deck together, shivering, and peering hopefully into the darkness in the direction of Quayven, but no light penetrated the blackness.

  Jacob frowned. ‘We need somewhere higher.’

  Cold and perplexed, they finally gave up all hope of seeing anything that night.

  Next morning, however, a scan of the island from the deck of the Aurora confirmed their original perceptions. Even from this side, Barley had no hills, nowhere that would give a light tower the advantage of height. As they were scrutinising the island, Aulf, casting his gaze further across the ice, spotted something heading swiftly towards them around the curve of the shoreline. They guessed immediately that it had to be Svanah’s sled. As it came closer, they could make out the individual dogs, and the fur clad figure at the rear. She pulled up beside them, in a flurry of ice spray.

  ‘Did you see your light?’

  Jacob shook his head, his face conveying the disappointment he felt. ‘Is this the last isle sunwards in the Orking Do canton?’

  Svanah nodded.

  ‘We have a problem, then.’ Jacob pursed his mouth and looked round at the others. ‘The only option is to build a tower on the ice.’

  ‘Is that possible?’ questioned Elya.

  ‘Building it’s possible.’ Jacob considered the practicalities as he spoke. ‘It will take a lot more time and money than the other towers. It’s manning it and keeping it warm that will be problematic.’

  ‘Why do you want to build a tower on the ice?’ asked Svanah.

  Briefly, Jacob explained to her about the messaging system and how they needed a tower between Quayven and Orking Do in a position visible from both.

  ‘I know an island where you can see both.’

  The effect of her words was more dramatic than she could have anticipated. Four pairs of surprised eyes swivelled to fasten on her.

  Jacob gazed at her, puzzled. ‘But I thought you said there were no more islands?’

  ‘There are no other islands in Orking Do,’ Svanah conceded, ‘but there are some small, uninhabited islands that aren’t in any district. The one I’m thinking of isn’t that far from here. I’ve been there overnight, and I’ve seen lights on Quayven. We call it Zanzo Isle. It has no official name.’

  There was no disguising Jacob’s excitement. ‘What’s it like?’ How big is it? What’s there?’

  ‘There’s a shelter there,’ Svanah told him. ‘We keep it stocked with supplies. It’s where I’d take all the dogs and hide if the Horde attacked. They eat dogs!’

  ‘So it’s well protected?’ Jacob looked hopeful again. ‘Are there cliffs?’

  ‘There’re cliffs on the chasm side, but there’s an easy slope for the dogs on this side. It’s a good place to hide because it’s sandwiched between two arms of the Vajra, so it’s tricky to get to unless you know where you’re going.’

  ‘Can we sail there?’ asked Aulf.

  Svanah shrugged. ‘Your boat’s small, so maybe you could, but I wouldn’t recommend it.’ She thought for a moment. ‘You could sail most of the way and then go on foot from where the crevasse narrows down. It’s not far from there.’ She pointed along the length of Barley. ‘At the tip of the island here, you need to swing round the edge of the Vajra, but after that, all you have to do is keep the wind directly at your back and sail straight until you see the ends of the two fissures in front of you. Then you can skate down between the two arms of the chasm and that will take you directly to Zanzo.’

  Jacob could hardly believe their luck. ‘We owe you,’ he told Svanah.

  Svanah smiled. ‘It was kind of you to give me that wizard striker. I’m pleased I can do something in return.’ She got up to take her leave. ‘Good luck! Oh, and on your way back, don’t forget to let me know how you got on.’

  Chapter 35

  Following Svanah’s advice, they gave the tip of the crevasse at the end of Barley a wide berth. Keeping the wind at their back, Aulf reefed the sails to slow the Aurora, and sailed straight, with all of them scanning the ice intently for the first hint of the rifts they were watching for. Svanah had made the directions to Zanzo sound simple enough, but she travelled on a dog sled and they were in a boat. Small and light as the Aurora was, she had neither the manoeuvrability of a sled, nor a dog’s innate instinct for danger.

  They were all so concerned with watching the ice ahead and to either side that none of them looked back the way they had come, until Elya, shifting her position by the rail to get more comfortable, flicked a glance behind them.

  ‘Aulf! Boats!’ she shouted.

  Ingar leapt to the stern, peering hard through the gathered mist behind them. ‘Two of them! Closing fast!’

  ‘Raiders!’ muttered Aulf, paling.

  ‘Watch out!’ yelled Ingar, ducking, as a bolt shot through the air close to her head. ‘Crossbows!’

  ‘Elya, Jacob, keep down!’ Aulf commanded. ‘Ingar, unfurl that jib!’ Ingar scrambled forward, keeping her head low. Aulf loosed the mainsail and the Aurora surged forward as the wind hit the sails, another arrow just missing the rigging.

  ‘Aulf!’ screamed Elya, in terror, flinging her arm over the rail, pointing. ‘The crevasse!’

  Aulf’s head spun round. There to starboard, between the wisps of mist, was an unmistakable indigo blue shadow, dark and treacherous, and the Aurora was heading directly towards it. Elya
saw Aulf’s blue eyes widen with fear, then he dived for the rigger, the sheet already in his hand, and they all felt the Aurora slew drunkenly as one runner lifted high off the ice, tilting dangerously as she spun. Elya screamed again and Ingar, taken by surprise, lost her balance and was thrown hard against the side of the boat, only her sharp instincts saving her from being hurled overboard as she grabbed for the rail and clung on with all her strength.

  Elya wasn’t clear what happened next, it happened so fast. The Aurora was out of control, sliding sideways across the ice. Jacob’s voice screamed, ‘The other side! Watch out!’ Aulf hurled himself across the deck again, and there was a jaw-crunching thump as the Aurora’s runners hit the ice and bounced sickeningly. For a terrifying moment, Elya glimpsed the gaping void of the chasm, less than two arms’ lengths away, black and sheer. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming in short, hard gasps, certain they would plunge to their deaths into that yawning emptiness. A strange, strangled sound from Ingar close by made her eyes spring wide again and she saw Ingar’s face, ghostly white, staring horror-struck behind her.

  Elya followed her line of sight and felt the spasm of fear contract in her own middle. The Aurora was trapped between two arms of the crevasse, caught in the pincers of the Vajra, with the broken edges of their ice world converging fast. Behind them, one of the pirate boats had managed to swing away in time, heading safely away over the open ice, but the second had followed them into the jaws of the chasm, as out of control as the Aurora but much closer to the deadly lip of the void. Elya heard the desperate shouts and terrified screams of the men on board as their boat slid inexorably, almost gracefully, over the rim, and was instantly gone from sight.

  Still teetering on the edge of oblivion, somehow the Aurora managed to hug the ice as she catapulted along the top of the precipice, Aulf battling to keep her straight. Ingar, recovering fast, sprang to reef the main and help slow their progress.