by Bill Ricardi
Until now. For the first time in over 70 years, the Headmaster received an official communication from the yeti tribe situated on the nameless plateau above the school. The message said, simply: ‘Mend what you have broken, or we will be forced to act.’
Ames and I were called into the Headmaster’s office. It had been some time since I saw Max that agitated. He said that we were the perfect candidates to-
“Sorch. Sorch!”
Ames’ strained voice snapped my attention back to the present. My mate’s eyes were a little bit wild.
I murmured, “Sorry.”
The were-cat grit their teeth. “You can’t do that. You can’t have one of your episodes right now. We aren’t safe here.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
That cold feline nose pressed against my cheek. “It’s okay. Just concentrate. We’ll take a break just before we get to the top.”
True to my word, I maintained my concentration for the next hour or so. There was only one hard climb that required the gear. The rest of the time was spent slogging up a steep, icy, miserable incline. My second and last Minor Polymorph of the day expired, and I was soon far colder than Ames. But well before the sun would disappear for the day, we made it to the mostly flat top of the mountain.
A small indentation in the mountainside seemed like a good place to warm up and prepare for our diplomatic encounter. It was only a couple of paces deep and a couple of paces tall and wide, but that simply meant less space to heat. I set down my cooking pot, touched it, and said the word: “Blaze.” The two of us huddled together under a blanket as the pot started to radiate heat. Towards the end of its hour long cycle we would likely make some tea, but for the moment, we would just enjoy the warmth.
I must have drifted off, and Ames was apparently happy to let me sleep. My mate had suspicions that my ‘episodes’ were the product of unhealthy sleep patterns. As a result, Ames would come up with any excuse to allow me to take a nap. The journals that I was sharing with Benno showed that the extra sleep was having no impact. But I didn’t tell the feline that. I loved a good nap.
By the time I was being shaken awake, our tiny cave was tolerably warm.
“Tea?” asked Ames.
I nodded, and moved to fill the pot from my waterskin. But I nearly dropped it when a voice from outside the indentation said, “When you are done with your tea, please let us know. We would like you to come with us. We shall wait.”
Neither Ames nor I had heard anything prior to that voice. If we needed proof that yetis were masters of stealth within their element, we now had that proof.
Ames called out, “We can come with you now, if you like?”
There was a brief pause. Then that same, very calm voice answered, “We have discussed this, and it is our consensus that small things should be allowed to absorb and consume as much heat as possible before coming out into the cold. Partake of your tea, little ones. We shall wait.”
I shook my head, hardly believing that this conversation was taking place. I made a black pekoe tea with lots of sugar, just something to give Ames and myself caffeine and energy. We drank it down quickly, cooled down the pot, and then packed our blankets and gear for travel.
I was the first to poke my head out of our little hidey hole. Sure enough, three massive, shaggy white creatures were crouched on the path outside of our shelter. Each carried what looked like a crystalline spear. The tallest of the three, easily my height and half that again, also carried what looked like a dead goat. I guess their hunt had gone well.
The leader, or at least the one who was speaking for the group, looked down at us with those pupilless red-brown eyes. She said, “We are glad that you have made the journey. This gathering of yetis could be considered a patrol, or a small hunting unit. We serve as both. We shall escort you to our tribal leader. You will call the tribal leader ‘Divine’ unless you have a reason not to do so, in which case we will ask you to explain that reason.”
Their manner of speech was making my head swim a little bit. Or maybe it was the rust colored eyes, which seemed damned near hypnotic. I said, “Ummm, yes, we will follow you. And we’ll call your leader Divine.”
“We are pleased.”
The trek was a cold one. We spent the better part of an hour walking through the shallow snow. The wind was biting, bitterly cold. If it weren’t for the two big yeti bodies in front of us serving as a windbreak, it would have been far worse.
Finally, we arrived at our destination. Despite the plateau being flat, I for one would not have seen the village until I was almost right on top of it. That was because the buildings were made of virtually clear ice. I had no idea how they kept the snow from sticking to the structures and marring the wonderful illusion. Even Ames, a native of the region, was stunned by the achievement. The tribe members were white inside a sea of white. The fur of polar bears and winter rabbits made up the majority of the yetis’ carpeting and bedding. There was likely some measure of illusionary magic at work as well. The combined effect of all this: The yetis wouldn’t be found unless they wished to be found.
As our escort led the two of us into the populated area of the plateau, I saw one of the massive yetis simply disappear into the ground. I whipped my head around just in time to see something that I found comfortingly familiar: A dugout. The truth was, not everything that the yetis used was white or perfectly camouflaged. They just chose to hide the more visible objects underground. I caught a glimpse of some kind of distillery and a cooking surface before the white trapdoor was maneuvered back into place.
We walked through their town of ice and fur until we reached what could only be described as their ‘palace’. It was twice the size of any other structure, with extra rooms and beds (all lined in white fur of course) as well as a large reception hall with yeti-sized chairs all in a circle. In one of those yeti-sized chairs was a yeti.
As we walked inside, I noticed that the floor was very firm; some kind of white slate or shale that I had never seen before. Then I felt a wave of heat wash over my frozen green skin. I gasped in relief. Even Ames looked happy with the climate change.
Our escort stopped in the foyer. The speaking yeti said, “We must process the bounty of the hunt. Divine is just over there, in the meeting chamber. Can you see her little ones? She is the only yeti seated in the room to your West.”
I knew that it might just be their manner of conversation, but I couldn’t help but feel like we were being treated like idiot children. I must have had ‘that look’ on my face, because a were-cat paw was swiftly clamped over my mouth before I could voice my sarcastic reply.
Ames said, “We do see Divine, and we would like to thank you for being a courteous and capable escort.”
The three gave us a shallow bow, and then loped back out into the cold.
Once unmuzzled, I whispered harshly to Ames, “And they went away. Can you see that little one? There are three yetis. One, two, three. And they are walking.”
The feline waited patiently until I got that out of my system. “Are you done now?”
I grunted and nodded.
We walked into the next room, passing through a large archway in the transparent wall. There was some kind of crystal or clear glass brazier on the floor directly in the center of the ring of chairs. It was quite compact, standing just a few inches off of the ground. But it radiated wonderful waves of warmth.
The seated yeti said, “Greetings. My name is Divine. I would like to extend our hospitality to the two of you. How that hospitality will take form is threefold: Firstly, we have raised the temperature within the palace so as to provide for your immediate physical comfort. Secondly, when the remainder of our hunting and gathering parties have returned to this town, we will offer you sustenance in the form of multiple types of foods as well as fresh water. Thirdly, I personally would like to extend an invitation to the both of you, an invitation to rest in any of the chairs that you see before you. If your preference is the chair that I am currently occupy
ing, please inform me and I shall relocate.”
It suddenly dawned on me that we might be here forever.
Ames and I thanked our hostess, and chose the two oversized seats directly across from her so that conversation would be easier. Our legs dangled off the ground. I suppose we did look like children to them, to be fair.
Ames took the lead once again, saying, “I am Ames, and this is my companion and mate, Sorch. We thank you for your hospitality. Your use of the warming device, in particular, is both welcome and considerate.”
“Ah, yes, that is a heating brazier. Please maintain half a pace in distance, as the flame burns clear and is almost impossible to see if one is distracted.”
I raised my brows. “Wood alcohol? That explains the stills.”
Divine’s huge head tilted. She said, “You are more intelligent than the average small one. I will attempt to modify my interaction to allow for more complex concepts.”
I sighed with relief. I said, “That would be greatly appreciated. We’re here on behalf of the Arcane University. Headmaster Max received a note from your people that might be described as ‘alarming’. We would like to address your concerns.”
The yeti’s deep, red-brown eyes regarded me in silence for a few moments. Then Divine said, “I am pleased that the missive conveyed a sense of alarm, little one. Alarm is the proper sentiment to convey, and the proper attitude to have, for the events currently happening around us. Should it escalate into a show of force, it would be to everyone’s misfortune. Though, I would estimate, particularly to the misfortune of those who are smaller and less able to care for themselves in such a harsh environment.”
Ames glanced over at me. Neither of us had ever been threatened so politely.
Divine decided that a different tack needed to be taken. She said, “I believe I have a story that correctly illustrates the current situation, if you will allow me some latitude so that I might draw an interesting and informative parallel?”
Ames said, “Uhhh. Sure, go for it.”
“This is a tale of my uncle. His name was Clever. Many years in the past, Uncle Clever found a vein of emerald in a location that we now refer to as the ‘old city’. Emerald is useful for crafting tools, for making magic, and for the rare occasion that we find ourselves bartering. Our people started to mine the stone. As years passed, our mining delved deeper into the earth. This eventually roused creatures that we call ‘the demons in stone’. These stone demons were not our enemies, but our activities were disturbing them. We dispatched those demons that attacked us, but my uncle called into question the entire process. Though the emerald was valuable, the unknown factors were mounting. We had not researched all of the dangers that we were encountering. We were likely to encroach upon the territory of more creatures with whom we had no quarrel. So we paused our progress to assess the impact that we were having. Uncle Clever took all of the input that the wisest of our people had to offer. And then he shut down the mine. His reasoning was that if the cost would be making enemies and potentially bringing about our own destruction because we were unwilling or unable to research the consequences, then that cost was too high.”
I commented, “Your Uncle Clever sounds like a great man. Is he still around these parts?”
“Yes. You are sitting on him.”
I nearly jumped out of my chair in alarm. Instead I half stood and glanced down at the fluffy lining of the giant seat. Yeti fur.
Divine said, “Nothing goes to waste here. He would have considered it a great honor.”
I nodded, and then slowly settled my weight back down onto Uncle Clever.
The yeti leader said, “Sorch. Ames.”
“Yes?”
“You have delved too deep.”
My mate asked, “Divine, may I ask: Is this in reference to a specific act, or just a general trend amongst the ‘little people’?”
Divine nodded approval at the were-cat’s question. “It is a specific act, I am sure. The issue is that said specific act has not yet been discovered. The world of Panos needs you to examine all of the potential causes for the recent and dramatic changes in the environment around us.”
I returned the nod. “We are.”
Divine seemed surprised by my reply. She asked, “Are you?”
I launched into a story of my own. With Ames’ help, I illustrated not only our own recent adventures that delved into these mysteries, but the efforts of the major guilds and governments.
At the end of our tales, Divine murmured, “Well it seems that even in the height of summer, there are times when the bright eye blinks.”
I had no idea what that meant. “I’m sorry?”
Louder, the yeti said, “It is a saying. It means that sometimes even the most intractable of beings can find some measure of compromise.”
Ames leapt on that opening, saying, “Our crops are dying. Cities are flooding. There are incidents of violence as a result, both mundane and arcane. We want to solve this crisis as well.”
Divine said, “I am pleased to hear that efforts are already being made to correct these issues. Allow me to express the specific incidents that we have witnessed. You can add our experiences to those that the smaller folk have reported, and perhaps come to a more informed conclusion and take action.”
The yeti held up a large, fuzzy finger, as in if telling us to wait a moment. With her other hand, she directed five white digits towards the clear brazier in the center of our chair circle. Then the big creature murmured an incantation that I never heard before. Suddenly the fire was visible, flickering.
But it was more than that. As Divine spoke, the flames formed images. They kept pace with the details of her tale, providing visual cues that included faces, numbers, and what could only be described as artistic impressions of her story.
“In the last five years, our tribe has not grown. And yet, we are using over twenty percent more fuel. We are having to send out nearly double the number of hunters and scavengers to deal with the sudden scarcity of food and relative lack of natural growth near the mountain. In short, we cannot sustain this pace or lifestyle for much longer.”
The yeti’s pupilless eyes turned from the fire to regard each of us in turn. She said, “We believe that air elementals and ice quasi-elementals are to blame, in whole or in part, for the harsh cold that we are experiencing.”
Looking back into the fire so as to shift the scene to that of yetis searching the mountainside, the tribal leader said, “There is some evidence of this elemental activity, but only in the aftermath. We only know that, after reviewing our own behaviours, we cannot account for this sudden hostility. In other words, we did not provoke it, nor did any natural phenomenon that we can detect. Our priests, our mages, and our rangers have all made attempts to divine a local cause. But all signs point towards a more global issue.”
The illusion in the fire shifted from a beautiful if vague depiction of Panos, to a large number of yetis with overstuffed packs on their backs. Divine said, “We are in the process of finding a new home. Even if the cause of these issues were immediately found and reversed, the local wildlife and flora would not recover in time for us to utilize them as resources. But this issue will eventually follow us, of that we are certain. So we would like to stop this elemental aggression. Though we do not know where we shall be when, or if, that happens.”
The image in the fire flickered and died.
I was saying it even before I could consider the implications. I was saying it before Ames could stop me, before I could stop me.
“We have a new location for your people.”
The look that Ames gave me was disbelief. Perhaps panic as well. Almost certainly with a hint of exasperation mixed in there somewhere.
By contrast, Divine simply tilted her head. “Have you, little one?”
With the same level of compulsion as I experienced at the undersea altar, I started speaking and couldn’t stop. I was relating something that didn’t seem like my own idea. I wasn’t eve
n certain that I was using my own voice.
“There’s an area around two miles from the Arcane University. It is heavily wooded along the outskirts, but clear towards the center. The southern exposure is backed up to a cliff face. We have no claim to it. Nobody does. I believe it would be ideal for your people.”
Ames said, “Divine, we have not discussed this with anyone, perhaps yo-”
But the yeti silenced the were-cat with a question as cold and as pointed as an icicle.
“Who are you right now?”
I found myself replying, “It doesn’t matter.”
Divine insisted, “This mortal is not your priest. You have no claim here. Who are you?”
“Someone that I cannot be. Someone who under no circumstances should be talking to you.”
The yeti insisted, “Then why? I must know if I am to trust your words.”
My mouth was moving again, and I had no idea why. Someone used my voice to say, “Because the rules were bent. And they cannot be mended until they are first broken.”
Divine offered two words, phrased as a question, “The Bargain?”
“The Bargain.”
Ames hissed, “Whoever you are, why are you using Sorch?”
‘My’ reply was immediate, fierce, “He was mine before he was ever yours, creature.”
And just like that, the compulsion was gone. I slumped in my ridiculously oversized chair.
After the long silence that followed, Divine said, “I believe… we should take our meal together now.”
And that’s exactly what we did. A yeti that we hadn’t met yet dropped off a wrapped animal skin, still steaming. The fare wasn’t fancy, but it was warm and packed with the kind of fatty nutrition required in this climate. Rabbit meat, roasted pine nuts, and a warm salad of crispy yellow beans that I had never seen before.