Mica strolled over with a stern look on her face, and I was fully expecting to be scolded on my reckless behavior; but our attention was turned towards a great creaking from a wall across from us. An aperture began to open in the wall, and we spun to hear a similar argument from the stonework on the opposite wall from where we stood. We both looked towards Logan for an answer to this mystery; but he appeared just as bewildered.
The muck which been lining the numerous holders began to burn away and were replaced by a much more potent mixture which had been kept sealed from the air in their reservoirs for countless millennia; and the various torches began to produce a fierce blue flame. Dust fell from the ceiling above us; exposing a fine silver drapery of woven metal mesh which lined the entire room above us. The netting adhered to the material began to rise like wisp of clouds billowing in a summer wind; rising ever higher above our heads.
"What's going on?" Mica breathed, bewildered by what she was witnessing.
"These flames," Logan began with a gleam of thought twinkling in his eye as he rubbed his chin while looking about the chamber, "the hot air is rising and inflating the decorative drapery."
At first his comment didn't make any sense until the entire section of the roof above us unclipped from their posts and the chamber began to sway. Stumbling to keep our balance, we looked up to see the net-laced material was rising ever higher over our heads. It reminded me of a...
"It's a balloon!" I stammered, unsure of myself.
We lurched to one side of the narrow corridor and fell to our knees as the sound of a defiant creak ripped through our ears while the air ship tore itself from its ancient moors. The hallway we had been standing in separated itself from the causeway where it was resting and the section with the flaming braziers broke free of their anchors. The gondola swayed at first; leaving us grasping for a handhold while the ship lifted ever higher as the envelope fully inflated and began to rise with increasing speed. We found ourselves being lifted through a cavern of ice towards a narrow chasm high above.
"Most astounding!" Logan uttered as we got to our feet and carefully plodded our way to the forward end of the walkway which was left suspended underneath the mushroom shaped balloon.
"How is this possible?" I uttered to myself, not realizing I was being overheard.
"That appears to be a weave of metallic mesh supported by a net of interlocking couplings," Logan noted as he pointed above into the underside of the balloons envelope, "and that strange smell coming from the flame canisters tells me they are using an exotic mixture of fuel to great the gas needed for lift."
"Yeah ...uh that's great and all, but what happens when we hit the ceiling?" I urged with growing concern as I pointed upwards towards the roof of the icy cavern.
We peered into the direction we were heading and began to feel a rising sense of panic the closer we drifted to the jagged icicles hanging above.
"Oh, this isn't going to be good..." I whispered to the others.
The ship rose quickly up towards the cold spikes, where we feared they would puncture the mesh and send us plummeting to our death below. The silver material of the metallic balloon brushed the bottommost layer of ice, snapping off several pieces which sent a shower of shards cascading over the edge of the umbrella above us. Suddenly the gondola tilted sharply and the airship was brought to a level altitude. We had no idea what was controlling its course.
The floating ship began to move forward through the narrow chasm in the glacier at a steady pace; its edges frequently rubbing along the inner edges, leaving a glittering trail of ice particles in its wake.
"Look, over there!" Mica exclaimed with excitement as a gleam of sunlight burst through the fissure before us.
Our path took us into a passage of enormous shards of sparkling shards which crossed to interlock overhead, forming a wide passage for the airship to travel. Beyond these massive translucent shards were the walls of blue ice and compacted snow which gave way to open sunlight gleaming in through them like a mystical temple made of glass.
"That's not ice, that's formed crystal!" Logan announced as Mica stood forward to observe as they examined the glass-like ice which created the protective barrier for the corridor, "The people of this lost world were able to grow minerals into any form they required, such as this highway for their airships..." Logan led away, seeming unable to finish his thought; lost in his amazement of the technology these ancients used.
Ahead of us there was a breach in the crystal passage where the wind howled in the morning light and a fresh breeze now entered the great passage. There was a look of mixed excitement in Mica's eyes as we approached the open breach. It took a moment for Logan and I to appreciate the danger that would be upon us within the next few minutes; as the course of the airship itself would become a slave to the direction of the surface winds. If the burning flames of the braziers were to be blown out by the high winds we could be sent crashing to the ground and lost among a vast continent of snow and ice even if we somehow survived.
"Allen, use your radio and see if you can contact the ship!" the professor ordered as they both turned to me.
Realizing we were finally on the surface, I fumbled for my radio to check the open frequencies.
"Mayday, mayday, this is Allen. Is anyone on?" I blurted while hearing nothing but broken static in the wake of the call, "Ah, we might be too far from the ship," I began to whine to the others as I changed to our backup channel, "Walter, are you there? This is the Logan Expedition; we are requesting a rescue team for an emergency evacuation."
We gave one another look of despair, realizing that we may have either traveled far out of radio range or perhaps it was interference from the weather. The storm clouds we had encountered at our base site were now distant on the bleak horizon, but there was no guarantee the blizzard wouldn't turn our way and sweep the airship into unknown territory. There was a sudden click of static and Walter's voice came over the air, garbled as it was.
"This is Sir Walter, do you read me?"
"Yes Walter! This is Allen, I'm here with Mica and the Professor; we need to be picked up immediately, over." I cried through the heavy static.
"What are your coordinates?" Walter inquired as he sat in the radio room scanning over layers of charts.
"Uh, we aren't quite sure," I shrugged as I looked to Logan for advice. We were rapidly closing in on the breach in the passage but couldn't see any familiar landmarks across this plain of broken ice.
"Turn on your transponder, and it will give us your GPS coordinates." Walter remarked as he leaned over to flip on the receiver, "Alexander has it in his bag, it's the black and yellow box," he noted as a reminder.
All three of us looked at one another in despair, knowing that Alex had dropped all of his equipment into the lake where it likely still sat at the bottom. There was no way for the crew to triangulate our signal between the ship and ...wherever the hell we were. The fact was, we could only guess that we were somewhere on the vast eastern windswept plains of Antarctica. We had lost most of our equipment and had no way of giving our position; especially with the thick storm clouds veiling the horizon.
"Unfortunately, we kind of misplaced the transponder," I clicked back over the radio, trying not to sound so disappointed; but failing miserably in my effort.
"Can you see the shoreline or any mountain ranges from your position you can describe?" Walter begged, feeling hopeless as he sat in the radio room where he had been for the past several days without sleep since his comrades when missing in action.
I tried to see what I could outside the walls, but the thick crystal structures warped the field of view beyond the tunnel. As we got within several dozen meters of the breach in the passage the ship began to get caught in a suction of cold air which started to quicken our pace towards the rift. The gondola started to sway violently and I nearly lost my grip on the radio and almost dropped it over the edge. We each grabbed onto something to hold onto for dear life as the airship was drawn through
the break and out into the open weather where we were buffeted with high winds.
Expecting the worse, we grabbed onto one another and clipped a safety harness between us in case one of us fell overboard. The balloon rose every higher above the whitewashed terrain until the winds settled and the ship started to level off. We glanced at the decorative burning canisters, hoping they would last a while longer until we could find a familiar shore. Our luck didn't last as brutal wind sheers began to toss the airship about as it glided through the sky beyond its protective highway left far below.
When the ship finally began to settle, I looked down to notice that we seemed to still be heading in the same direction of the crystal passage below us, evidence of which eventually sunk once again beneath the cover of ice and snow. Our pace was steady and it soon became clear to us that we were no longer drifting freely with the wind, but that the airship was set on a certain course.
"I would swear that this vessel is actually going against the direction of the wind," Logan declared in astonishment. We each took a glance at the storm and realized he was right. The airship was actively countering the gale.
The gondola swayed erratically from time to time, sending us tumbling for a handhold; and being tossed about like rag dolls did nothing good for our stomachs. We eventually secured seats to keep from loosing our footing each time the ship began to sway; and we sat there huddling in the cold winds for what seemed like hours. I tried to reach Walter back on the ship several more times by radio, but finally gave up on the effort so as not to entirely drain the battery. Eventually our airship entered calm winds and Logan stood up from our group and stumbled slowly towards the edge of the ship as something of interest had grabbed his attention. Staring through his frost-caked hood, his old worn eyes opened in wonder.
"Look, look over there!" Logan cried with his cracked voice, made dry from the biting cold.
Mica and I rose to our feet to reach his side, to see what the professor was babbling about. Standing out from the bleak horizon was a mountain of ice like a colossal spike piercing the cloudy sky. Nightfall was fast approaching and stars glimmered through the dancing curtains of aurora lights which fluttered like veils of untethered rainbows above us. It was a beautiful sight to behold, but what had drawn the professor's attention was even more amazing.
The closer our airship approached the spire a formation of blue crystal towers began to emerge from the mountain ahead, as if it they were emerging from beneath the ice. It looked as though a giant castle has been once been consumed by snow and ice which formed over its structure; masking it from view. It now lay partially exposed to the world once again; uncovered like the iron tree freeing itself from the ice in which it had been entombed for countless centuries.
"It's a city!" Mica exclaimed as the breath from her tired lungs condensed in the cool air.
The ship steered towards this city as if some hidden mechanism guided its course. Logan presumed it must be some sort of magnetic technology that had been lost to the ages which steered the airship and guided our way. He assumed the crystal passage still existed somewhere below us; now veiled by layers of solid ice. As I scanned the horizon, I began to wonder how many other towers like this might be hidden within these glaciers.
The ship slowed and came to berth within an enclosure on the uppermost tower. Pockets of ice shattered as the gondola docked with the decking that surrounded the high turret. We stepped off the ship, glad to have found solid footing beneath our feet once again. A moment after we disembarked, the docking clamp began to pull the ship down into the enclosure hidden between the tightly woven towers; leaving us standing precariously high upon the open tower balcony.
The material of the building appeared to be made of something hard like glass, but was thick and crystalline in its composition and it made me wonder if it was somehow a product of the mineral farms we had seen.
"Allen, come help me lad," Logan grunted as he pulled at a doorway he had found, "this hatch is frozen shut."
I took out Tom's old knife and chipped away at the encrusted ice around the seams of the doors and we gave it another try. After a few minutes of effort we were able to crack the entry and forced it open wide enough for us to gain entry. The condensed vapor that expelled from the opening revealed that the interior environment was a great deal warmer than the freezing temperatures outside. After several minutes it soon became warm enough that we had to open our jackets just to cool off.
"Do you think this citadel might be that Asgard place you were talking about?" I asked Logan as we circled the main room; while looking at the strange architecture and decor.
"I would imagine so, Allen," the professor answered, "but there is no way to tell at the moment."
"What do you make of this?" Mica inquired as we were drawn to her side of the chamber. She was standing in front of an elaborate carving of a tree engraved upon one of the depressed panels along the wall.
"Ah, the symbol of the world tree," Logan cited, "and an exquisite design at that," he admired the motif.
Mica ran her hands down the trail of the carving looking for any clues the pattern might reveal. When she touched an emblem at the center of the tree where they branched outward, the lines of the engraving began to glow; growing outward from the source of the emblem until the light reached the outermost tips. We jumped back when the room began to hum and the floor shifted below our feet. Retreating to the center of the room, the floor began to slowly spin; winding its way down through the tower similar to the way we had seen the capstone function within first set of ruins.
The levels of the citadel disappeared above us as we were drawn deeper into the fortress. Where we ended up was a place so astounding that even Logan was at a loss for words. The platform came to rest in the middle of a great chamber lit by several fissures in the compacted snow above. A ring of steps led us off the circular lift and into the great opening of a great forest hidden beneath the castle.
We stepped off the platform and into the woodland, noticing something peculiar. Their branches were all dead, twisted and intertwined as they reached along the walls like vines, but were bare of leaves which gave them the appearance of roots seeking out the depths. Several stems lay broken among the ground; shattered into pieces. Mica gathered one to take a sample, but noticing something quite strange.
"These trees are petrified," she exclaimed as she dropped the branch of stone to her feet. She went from tree to tree, feeling the grain of the bark which had solidified. The forest of stone was silent as death; their cold bare branches reaching out through the shadows like dark fingers. The fable Logan had sought for so long to find had been left here buried and forgotten. The forest of the gods was dead; but there were still the mysteries of this crystal keep left to explore.
The Fallen
It was a riddle as to why there was a forest located beneath the crystal castle. Logan himself was at a loss to explain its presence given his thorough studies on the ancient lore that surrounded it. The nursery wasn't completely underground, for sunlight could have made its way into the grove through the crystalline walls which were now covered with ice and snow. It must have been quite a garden in the era of these unique people when their culture was thriving.
Now all that was left was dust and bones and the musty ghost of death which filled the air with its stale perfume among these ruins. There was no escaping that this civilization may have once rivaled our own, and it was humbling to know that despite their great achievements that they were now long dead and forgotten. The very existence of these people and their great accomplishments opened a great void in our recorded history; which was what worried the professor so.
"One of the challenges the scientific community faces is the release of hard evidence such as this into the public arena because of both social and religious ramifications, and the scrutiny we would face," Logan contended with the realities they would cope with once they got back to the mainland, "there are many powerful governments around the globe which are
restrained or swayed in some part by those secretive foundations who care not about fact-based educations, but rely instead on fabrications and propaganda as a means to control the general populace."
What the professor claimed made more sense than naught; for even I could imagine a handful of modern religious institutions that would outright deny any findings of an ancient civilization that predates or counters their biblical text or sacred doctrines and declare it as outright blasphemy. Including the fact that those governments which relied on the continuance of their citizens to believe in a certain faith or political viewpoint might lose face when their populous starts asking questions they don't wish to comment upon. For such unscrupulous regimes it was always far easier to bury the truth than it was to answer to it.
Mica fully understood Logan's viewpoint, for she too had seen how a vast majority of researchers and experts in their fields turned a blind eye and took a stance of silence when either their work or funding was put at risk by a higher power. They cared more about their careers and reputation rather than holding to their principles as scientists. Logan was not one of those who were weak of heart; and neither was his assistant. Their moral fiber gave me incentive to reconcile my own beliefs and to take a stand for what I knew was right.
"Well, we won't be facing any community of scientists or the glaring spotlight of their scrutiny if we don't make it out of this place alive," I begged for the professor to consider.
"True Allen, very true," Logan remarked, "let us see where this path leads us and try to take our chances to reach the ship again," he offered.
The twisting path along the dead grove was littered with dust and debris, some of which I found partially disturbed. Leaning down, I could see fresh prints in the thick powder of some type of animal I could not identify.
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