by Daniel Kirk
“What does an Astrid look like? Now listen. Nick and the Human will accompany me when we enter Hunaland. You and your crew will remain with the Arvada, until you receive further orders from me.”
The captain nodded, delighted to know that his time with Jardaine was nearly over. Once she was out of his sight, he planned to untie the Arvada and set off for home, despite her orders.
Jardaine reached into her pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. “’Tis one of the spells I got from the Techmagicians at Helfratheim,” she explained, her thick gloves making it hard to unfold the paper. “’Twill raise the girl’s body temperature from inside her, so she doesn’t die out here.”
When it was clear that the captain was not going to comment, Jardaine glanced up at him. “You presumed that I didn’t really care about her, didn’t you?”
“I never gave it any thought,” the captain replied. “The Human is your business, not mine. My job was to bring the three of you here, and I’ve accomplished my mission.”
Jardaine frowned. “Your duty is to follow my commands, sir. And your mission is far from over, believe me!” She looked down at the spell printed on the paper, mouthing the words. Then she glanced up at the captain again. “Not only that, but anyone with half a brain would be inspired by my compassion! My thoughts are only of Becky’s well-being. It isn’t every day you meet an Elf who cares so deeply about a Human.”
When the Aeronauts loosened the screws at the back of the hold and dropped the long brass flap so that its edge struck the ice, Becky squirmed out of her prison. She was so stiff with cold that she could barely stand when she finally got her legs out of the cab. “Dear one,” Jardaine soothed, “we have no cold-weather clothing for you to wear, but I will cast a spell that will keep you warm until we are inside the gates. Now stand straight, and close your eyes.”
Becky did as she was told, though her knees were knocking and her teeth chattered. “Hurry, Astrid,” she said, then added, “p-p-please!”
Jardaine read from the crumpled page. “Naum sole au folla,” she began, absently contemplating where this spell might have originated. She didn’t recognize the language and wasn’t confident about her pronunciation. Surely the spell must have come from a place with a cold, northern climate. How does it work? she wondered. Appeal to invisible spirits? Projection of will? A few circling Fire Sprites would probably do the job just as well, if I had them. “Juae cvarollan, et tamey tvvorin.”
She looked up at Becky; it was obvious the spell had had no effect. The girl was hunched over, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her cheeks and nose red with cold. I’ll try it again, Jardaine said to herself. I must have the pronunciation wrong.
“Are you sure your eyes are closed tightly?” she asked Becky.
“I’m s-s-sure!”
Jardaine concentrated more deeply on the words this time as she pictured a microscopic world inside her, where tiny orbs of energy spun faster and faster, generating heat. She knew she had to feel the spell as well as simply repeat the words. She imagined leaping flames consuming a fireplace log. She thought of Alfheim, her own homeland, burning. “Naum sole au folla, Juae cvarollan, et tamey tvvorin.”
Becky’s rigid expression dissolved as she opened her eyes and looked down at her feet. “You did it,” she said in amazement. “Astrid, you did it! It’s like warmth creeping up my legs, like I’m standing on something hot. But I’m not, am I?”
She stepped back, to see if her sneakers had left melted tracks in the ice below. “There’s nothing there. Where is the heat coming from? Oh, I opened my eyes! Is it all right?”
“Of course, child,” Jardaine said. She tingled with pleasure that the spell had worked. It gave her confidence that the other spells she had taken from the Techmagician would be equally effective. “Come now. Becky, and Nick, we’re going to look for another entrance to Hunaland. These gates are not meant for us, I’m sure of it.”
The Captain of the Arvada rolled his eyes. What could she be thinking now? His face was numb from the cold as he called to his crew. “Back inside the ship, lads, there’s no need for us to wait around out here and freeze!”
“Just a moment,” Jardaine commanded, stepping close to the captain. “You have my permission to go and warm yourself inside your ship, but I order you to keep the Arvada moored here until our return from the center of the earth. Do you understand? I am a Mage with many powers, and if you choose not to obey me, I shall call upon all of the forces at my disposal to seek vengeance. Your death will not be a pleasant one, I assure you!”
“But of course,” the captain said obligingly, quite certain that he would never see Jardaine again. He’d already made up his mind to leave the North Pole as soon as she and her crew were safely out of his sight.
Jardaine led Nick and Becky along the length of the fortress wall.
The air was smoky, but the black clouds drifting above the walls carried away most of the fumes and ash. “What are we looking for?” Nick cried, stumbling over the lumpy ice. “We didn’t see any other entryways from the air. We might spend an entire day tramping around this fortress and see nothing, and then we’ll be right back where we started!”
Jardaine struggled to rein in her anger. The image of herself that she’d been creating for Becky’s benefit was an illusion of kindness and patience. “There’s something odd about this place,” she said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t rely on what we think we saw from above, as we were looking through tree branches as well as smoke! There’s much we might have missed. Have faith in my intuition, Becky and Nicholas, there will be another entrance—I’m sure of it.”
Nick pressed his lips tightly together. He knew that whenever Jardaine called him by his full name, she was angry. It was foolish of him to have questioned her judgment, especially in front of the girl. “Then I’m sure, too,” he murmured.
Ten feet above the icy ground, a decorative frieze, running the entire length of the wall, was cut into the stone. Becky tried to make sense of the carvings as she passed. It seemed odd that so many of the sculptures seemed to be about farming, sowing, and harvesting, when everything around was covered in ice. Every twenty feet or so they passed a carved column, depicting scenes of animals and Faerie Folk. Between the columns were niches, like small doorways, in which stone figures stood. The borders of the niches were decorated with stone snakes, braided together in long coils. The carvings were so lifelike that Becky imagined the figures might jump out at her. She began to feel anxious. “Astrid, do you think we’ll be able to catch up with them?” she asked. “I mean, Matt, and Tomtar, and Tuava-Li? Do you think they already have the Seed, and they’re headed underground? Are we too late?”
“Don’t worry, child,” Jardaine said. “Just have some faith in me, and all will be well. Remember? Say it with me now. All will be well.”
“All will be well,” Becky repeated, as Jardaine reached the end of the wall. As she stepped out of the shadow and into the sunlight, the wind caught the corner of her coat and shook it like laundry on a clothesline. Jardaine didn’t stop or turn along the wall. Instead she walked straight ahead. Becky slowed her pace, confused. She was about to say something when Nick put a finger to his lips. “Best just to follow,” he whispered.
Once Jardaine was a hundred paces away from the wall, she turned around. Holding up one hand to shield her face from the sun, she looked back. She studied the row of columns and niches and searched for any irregularities in the surface. Midway along the wall there was an empty niche with no figure inside. Though a strong shadow darkened the small archway, she could tell that the color streaking the inside was more brown than gray. “Look there,” she said, pointing.
“What is it?” Becky cried. “What do you see?”
“A doorway, sweet one,” Jardaine replied. “’Tis the door through which we were meant to make our entry. If I’m not mistaken, there will be Elves waiting to welcome us on the other side of that wall. Come!”
Jardaine stalked purpos
efully toward the niche. Nick and Becky followed. As they drew closer it was plain that Jardaine had been right; before them was a concealed wooden door, barely big enough for Becky to crawl through, but a door nonetheless. Surrounding the door were small geometric carvings; Becky thought it looked like a depiction of a maze, with twisted passageways and little paths in between. She touched the time-worn stone, letting her finger trail along one of the paths. Jardaine paused in the shadow with her back to Becky and Nick. She took a deep breath and knocked three times. Almost immediately a collective gasp rose from the countless Faerie Folk waiting inside. “They’re here!” a faint voice exclaimed from within. “The people from the wingless b-b-bird have come to our door!”
The door creaked open. A gust of warm air poured over the trio of visitors as they stood stiffly in the cold; the sensation made each of them weak at the knees. Inside the gate, there was so much activity that it took a moment to register everything that was going on. Elfin guardsmen in long green coats flanked the door. The lower half of their faces were covered with sheer masks, but their eyes bulged in surprise. At the sight of Jardaine, Nick, and Becky entering through the gate, they fell to their knees and bowed their heads. Beyond the guards, a crowd of viridian-robed monks parted. They, too, dropped to their knees, forming a sea of green with an open channel down the middle. The path led to the massive trunk of Yggdrasil, looming in the smoky distance. Obscured in spirals of scaffolding that supported the weight of countless small dwellings, the trunk disappeared in a gray, dingy cloud high overhead. Pixies fluttered in the air, most of them averting their eyes and covering their mouths with their hands. Those that dared glanced nervously at Becky. Their fingers pointed as they chattered in bursts of broken syllables, unintelligible squeaks erupting from their tiny mouths. None of them had ever seen a Human before; Becky looked like a grotesque giant to them, with beady eyes and strange, misshapen ears. Some of them giggled nervously. Nick thought of his own Pixies, and it made his heart sore with longing.
Jardaine watched a single squat figure waddling down the length of the path, coming slowly toward her. “We must bow as well,” she whispered to the others, “to show respect to the rulers of this place.”
Awkwardly Jardaine got down on her knees, and with her gloved hands stretched before her, bowed her head low. She could almost feel the cold earth pulling her down; she resisted touching it with her forehead. Nick and Becky followed Jardaine’s lead and knelt, too. “Come, pilgrims,” came the warbling voice of the old monk. “Come with me. You must prepare to meet our Mage, and our Queen.”
the friends greedily ate the muffins and slightly withered-looking apples that Matt had bought the night before. None of them let a single crumb go to waste. Afterwards, dressed in their new outdoor gear, they filed into the hallway. Matt locked the door, led the way down the steps, and they headed toward Mary Suluk’s place.
There were only a few distant figures dotting the harsh landscape; otherwise, the town seemed deserted. Matt had to squint to see through the glare. Tomtar and Tuava-Li plodded awkwardly with their mittens over their eyes, nearly blinded by the light. Everything, all the houses, fuel tanks, overturned boats and ATVs, as well as the gravel road, was blanketed by a salty white film. Matt could taste it on his lips. He quickened his pace. “Hold on!” Tomtar cried.
“We’ve gotta get some goggles,” Matt said, as his friends stumbled behind. “We’re not going anywhere if we can’t see what’s in front of us.”
The old Inuit woman had suggested that they return in the morning, and Matt had many questions to ask. He’d been thinking about his parents, wondering if they’d managed to escape Helfratheim with the children who had fled into the forest there on the Canadian border. Perhaps he could contact the police or the fire department. Matt stuffed his mittens into his pockets, and drew in a deep breath of arctic air. It made him cough; his lungs felt brittle and fragile as glass. Unless he could find out some facts about his parents, something that would let him know whether or not they were back in the Human realm, then he was stuck on this path. He would still be obliged to help Tuava-Li and Tomtar find the Seed of the Adri and plant it at the hollow in the center of the earth. It still sounded crazy. Completely crazy, but here he was, traipsing around at the top of the world like it was the most natural thing to go on a quest for the sake of Faerie Folk. He felt a stab of something at the back of his mind and realized it was probably his conscience. He wasn’t seeing things clearly. Tomtar and Tuava-Li were his friends, after all. Weren’t they?
I’m helping them, he said to himself, because that’s what you do for friends, people you trust and care about, even if you don’t agree with them one hundred percent on everything. And what—just what if they’re right? This had become something more than a trade-off, more than an agreement based on mutual need. Matt wasn’t sure he’d ever felt anything quite like this before. He felt a little buoyant, somehow, as he trudged toward Mary Suluk’s house. From one perspective, he had a purpose in life, something to really live for … if he lived long enough to see it all to its conclusion.
“Did you see the lights last night?” Mary chirped, when she answered Matt’s knock on her door. “Come on in,” she said, wiggling her fingers and smiling at Tomtar and Tuava-Li, who, by nature, needed to be invited to step foot into a Human dwelling. “They were incredible.”
“What?”
“The northern lights, they were awesome last night. While you’re here, you at least ought to see the lights.”
“Nobody told me about it,” Matt said. He remembered learning about the northern lights in school, but seeing some kind of light show in the sky wasn’t top on his list of priorities.
“Well, if you go out tonight, you’ll probably see them. It’s cold, but it’ll be worth it. Just pretend you’re a tourist, here to see the sights.”
“Okay.”
The living room was full of children, sitting in front of the television as they had on the previous day. The place smelled damp and acrid, like diapers and sour milk. “Do you want some coffee?” Mary asked Matt. “I’ve got some muffins, too!”
She went to turn off her computer. Before the screen went blank, Matt thought he could make out the words Shop Gems at the top of the screen. There was a row of purple, blue, green, and gold stones, cut in geometric patterns, whose colors hung in a field of black. Then they disappeared.
“We already ate,” Matt said, following Mary to the kitchen, as Tuava-Li trailed silently behind. “I hope you didn’t go to any trouble for us.”
On the table was a plate of corn muffins, looking suspiciously like the ones Matt had bought in the co-op. “I guess coffee would be okay, if you add a lot of milk and sugar.”
“Have a seat,” Mary said, filling a pot with water from the sink and turning on the burner on the propane stove. “What about you?” she asked Tuava-Li. “You wanna sit?”
“I believe I’ll stand, thank you.”
Mary shrugged and turned to Matt. “There’s something I need to ask you. Do you know how to ski?”
Matt blinked in surprise. “Well, sort of. I used to go cross-country skiing with my family, but not so much since my baby sister was born. I’ve been downhill skiing a couple of times. Why do you ask?”
Mary smiled. “You remember my son-in-law, Joe, from last night? Remember I said he flew supply planes sometimes? I told him that you needed a lift after all, and that your dad left you some money for the fare. Joe checked with a friend about getting his hands on a Twin Otter, and if the friend can pull a few strings up at Alert, where he stops to refuel, Joe should be able to run you up there real soon! He’ll have to grease a few wheels to make it happen, but it looks like you may be in luck, son!”
Matt furrowed his brow. “I don’t have any money: cash, I mean. All I have are those jewels, like the ones I gave you last night. And what do skis have to do with anything?”
“I’ll take care of the money,” Mary said, sitting down at the table opposite Matt. “You’
re going to need supplies, and my daughter Joan will handle that. She’s gonna pack you a sled, with cooking and camping equipment, food, a small kayak, and some skis for you. I told Joe that your dad was up at the Anderson camp, where the scientists were doing research this season. Joe knows how to get there, but it’s still a ways from the North Pole. Without an ATV or a team of dogs you’ll need skis to get the rest of the way. The pack is gonna weigh near two hundred pounds, and you can’t drag it behind you if you’ve got nothin’ on your feet but boots. Skis will do the job!”
“Sounds like it’s going to cost a lot of money,” Matt said suspiciously. He felt as if he were already in a little kayak, drifting helplessly off into deep, black water. “And what do I need a kayak for? Isn’t everything frozen at the Pole?”
“Just a precaution.”
“And what happens when we get to this campsite, and Joe sees that everybody’s already gone? You think he’ll just leave us?”
“There’ll still be sheds and things up there,” Mary said. “And the scientists are always out on the ice doing research during the day, anyway. Joe wouldn’t give it a second thought if the place weren’t crawling with people. Listen, Matt, I was thinkin’ about how I greeted you yesterday when you came in, and I decided that I could stand to be a little more positive about things. You and your friends wouldn’t have got this far unless you had somebody on your side, and far be it from me to quibble with the Higher Powers, if you know what I mean! If I can help you, son, I will.”
Mary patted the back of Matt’s hand and gave him a motherly smile. Matt smiled back, but wondered if he could trust her. She’d been looking at gemstones online, to try and find out what they might be worth. That could be perfectly innocent; she wanted to know what kind of exchange she might get for the jewels Matt had given her. He decided, for now, to put his doubts aside. “The one thing that worries me,” he said, “is how we’re going to get back home again after we plant the … well, after we finish what we came here to do. Is there a Cord, out there where your kids found us, that goes back to civilization?”