by Laurence Yep
“I think you could call the whole place the Wastes,” Koko observed. “It’s all dead down there.”
“You’re wrong,” Roxanna said. “There’s plenty of life below the ice in the ocean and above it; you just have to know where to look.”
“I don’t see anything,” Koko stubbornly insisted.
“There, see the tracks?” Roxanna pointed to a line of paw prints that looked like twin lines of stitches across a white handkerchief. “It’s an Arctic fox.” It looked like a ball of ivory-colored fluff. “Often they trail polar bears, hoping the bears will leave some scraps for the foxes’ next meals.”
“See, Koko,” Leech said. “There is life down there and Roxanna can show it to us. I mean, there’s not a lot of it, but you got to hand it to the critters. They’re real survivors.”
Suddenly, Scirye was beginning to get an inkling of what Roxanna meant. “Yes,” she agreed, “sort of like when you see a flower coming up through a crack in the sidewalk.”
She tried to see the harsh landscape through Roxanna’s eyes: the huge white expanse that dwarfed humans, their ships, and their cities. It took a certain type of creature, or person, one who could take pleasure in meeting its challenges, one who felt good at meeting this hostile, merciless land on its terms. In the countries to the south, humans boasted about taming rivers and jungles, but any idea of conquest up here was nonsense.
And when Scirye adjusted her attitude that way, she began to glimpse the loveliness of the Arctic—the grand sweep of the ocean, the long curtains of snow drifting like the veils of a dancer, the delight in seeing the tracks of another creature because one was no longer so lonely.
Koko, however, was unconvinced. “Humph, a Frisco pigeon’d take any of the critters apart in a minute.” He tried to snap his claws, but his glove only made a whuffing sound.
“Perhaps we should have taken one of them along instead of you,” Bayang observed, and flew on into the darkness and the cold.
17
Bayang
They had been flying toward the Wastes for several hours when their luck with the weather ran out. Bayang had been congratulating herself that if they hadn’t spotted Roland, at least they hadn’t seen Mounties or Sogdians chasing them either.
Suddenly the winds picked up in speed and force so that she felt as if giant invisible hands were trying to shove her backward. Bayang brought her wings down in rapid, strong strokes that made her shoulder muscles ripple beneath the hide.
Soon she was fighting for every foot forward. She doubted if Roland’s airplane could stay in the air during this windstorm, so they might actually shorten the distance between them. For that matter, she didn’t think the Mounties’ owls were up to this either, so their pursuers wouldn’t be gaining on them.
The winds began to blow so fast that even Pele’s charm could not keep the ice from forming on Bayang’s wings. Each downbeat sent showers of frozen pellets through the air. She’d badly misjudged the weather and her own strength. Not even a dragon could conquer the Arctic. Bitterly, she realized they wouldn’t be able to gain as much ground on Roland as she’d hoped.
Bayang puffed, “My wings feel a hundred pounds heavier. I’m used to the cold of the seafloor, but it’s nothing like this. I don’t think I can take much more.”
“Or m-m-me,” Koko stammered.
“I think the charms are thawing out the moisture in the air for a moment,” Kles piped up from within Scirye’s coat, “but then the drops freeze right away again.”
“And Roxanna and Upach don’t even have magical charms to keep them warm,” Leech pointed out.
Bayang had been so focused on the pursuit that she hadn’t considered the hatchlings. If it was bad for her, it was even worse for them. And yet, as fragile as they were, they hadn’t complained—and were willing to continue the flight if she hadn’t spoken up. She had never thought she’d meet anyone braver and more dedicated than her, and it turned out to be hatchlings from another race. They needed to be cherished and nurtured rather than turned into icicles.
Guiltily, she began to dip toward the ground. “I’m sorry. I should have realized that sooner.”
“But don’t land right away,” Roxanna ordered. “Let me off first so I can look for danger spots. Sometimes the snow forms a thin layer over a big crack. Step on it and you can fall right through.”
Even though she had just met Roxanna, Bayang felt as protective of her as she was of the other hatchlings, so she would have liked to refuse. However, the Sogdian girl knew this wilderness and she did not. “All right. But I’ll hover overhead and you hold on to my paw so I can pull you up if the snow gives way.”
Bayang was tiring rapidly, each wingbeat becoming slower and more erratic as they dropped through the air. Roxanna leaned over the side, watching the white surface rise up toward them. When they were about a yard above the surface, she called out, “Hold it.”
The draft created by Bayang’s wings was raising clouds of snow, but Roxanna jumped into it fearlessly. Bayang’s paw groped for her, but her shadowy silhouette had already stooped over and was picking up some of the snow and scrunching it in her hand. Then she high-stepped a yard away to repeat the test.
“I can’t keep hovering much longer with the load I’m carrying,” Bayang panted.
They all heard the loud grumblings and whiplike cracking sounds.
“What’s that?” Koko asked nervously.
“I told you,” Roxanna said as she moved on and stamped on the surface again in another spot. “The ice floes are always shifting and pressing against one another. And the full moon brings out the tides and makes them more restless than ever.” She tested several more spots before she announced, “This is old ice, so it’s pretty thick. It’ll be about as stable as we find.”
“I’d prefer something that’s guaranteed for a hundred percent.” Koko gulped.
“Don’t be such a baby. She said it was safe, and anyway, you live in earthquake country, remember?” Leech teased.
Roxanna stepped up to Bayang and slipped her rifle from the large holster that hung in the netting. Then she turned in a slow circle, scanning the area warily and then beckoning to Bayang. “And no polar bears close to us. Come on down.”
“Yikes, now it’s polar bears!” Koko yelped.
“Thanks,” Leech said to Roxanna. “It takes guts to be a guinea pig.”
“You’ll be all right as long as you’re with me,” Roxanna said, stepping back.
Bayang swung her head to make sure their guide was safely away from the landing spot and then plopped down, flinging up sprays of snow. She noticed that Leech was the first to slide off so he could pat her neck solicitously. “Are you all right?”
Ice fringed his eyebrows and scarf like crystal beads. He had to be worse off than her, but his main thought was of her and not himself.
When she’d first met him, he’d been so trusting and open, but lately he’d been more withdrawn, as if listening to someone else. She missed that earlier friendly Leech, so his solicitude now touched her. Bayang cut off those feelings quickly. Don’t get carried away again, she reminded herself. He’s not your hatchling and he never will be.
“Nothing that a rest and a thaw can’t cure,” she assured him.
When they had finished disembarking, Bayang saw that the others were as icy as Leech. In fact, there were so many little icicles on Koko that he tinkled when he moved.
“Upach,” Roxanna commanded, “get a fire going. I think it’s the third box on Bayang’s right side.”
The blind ifrit walked swiftly along Bayang’s side, holding out her mittened hands until she found the box she wanted. From it she extracted a small portable stove and set it down. “Come now, my lovely. Wakey-wakey.”
The fire imp began to burn hotter and Bayang lifted a great wing to hold it over the welcome warmth. As Scirye and her companions slipped under the wing to crouch around the stove, it hung overhead like a leathery roof. However, when the ice began to melt and d
rip upon them Roxanna told them it was time to work on the dragon’s wings.
“Break off the ice gently,” Roxanna instructed the others.
Her scales slithering on the snow, Bayang shifted, lowering the wing so the others could pick off bits of ice. None was more concerned than Leech.
Then they repeated the process with the other wing. She could feel nothing through her numb scales, and yet as they fussed over her she began to relax. It made her think of manta rays in the warm, sunny tropical seas as little fish picked parasites off their hide.
The companions were all too glad to take a short break after that.
With a minimum of words—as if she had guided her blind servant to something many times before—Roxanna directed Upach to the basket with the tea, the kettle, and the wooden mugs with a large bowl for Bayang.
Bayang could only admire how efficiently Roxanna made them comfortable—as if this icy wasteland was her parlor. Her clan may have come from Sogdiana, but she was a child of the Arctic and well adapted to the land. Perhaps that was a trait that had helped Sogdians spread their trade network across the world.
In no time, Upach brewed a pot of tea for them. Though the bowl had been boiling hot when the ifrit had given it to Bayang, it had already cooled so much that there were little bits of ice bumping one another in it. How long before it turned into a solid block? she wondered.
About fifty yards ahead was another pressure ridge. The ice blocks rose like giant teeth from the snowy landscape. The winds had carved them into strange fantastic statues. One looked like an inverted cone. Another looked like a disk on a stem—as if it were a flower all of whose petals had been pulled. Others looked vaguely like people hunching over.
All about them, the breeze whipped the snow along like wriggling snakes so the landscape seemed to be constantly moving and the shifting ice beneath them cracked and groaned…as if, Bayang thought, the Arctic was a giant living creature.
“It’s almost like the pack ice is alive and talking to itself,” she said.
“Father calls it the Song of the North. No opera house has a stage this big,” Roxanna said with a patronizing smile. “And no opera troupe has as many singers.” She turned her head abruptly, sniffing the air. “We’re not alone,” she whispered, and put a finger to her lips. Then, with hand motions, she gathered them about a nearby small hole in the ice. A moment later, Bayang felt a slight but noticeable moisture on her face and caught a faint whiff of fish.
As they were all puzzling over the mysterious mist, Roxanna beckoned them to step away.
“It’s almost impossible to see it, but it’s a breathing hole for a ringed seal,” she explained softly. “Listen.”
They all strained their ears and heard a faint bubbly chuffing noise.
“What is it?” Leech asked, staring all around.
“Seals spend most of their time hunting in the sea,” Roxanna explained, “but then they have to come up to breathe, so they claw a hole through the ice up to the surface so they can breathe, but I think this is an actual lair because it’s staying so long.”
“And I thought we were alone here,” Leech said admiringly.
Roxanna smiled, pleased. “I told you this was no wasteland. But while we’re here, we’ll really have to keep an eye for polar bears now. Seals are polar bears’ favorite meal and they can sniff them from thirty-two kilometers away.”
Koko jumped and twisted around, looking for any bears charging out of the darkness. “Give me a city sidewalk where you’re bumping elbows with everyone and not dodging bears.” He moved a few steps closer to Bayang.
“What are you doing?” the dragon asked.
“I figure a hungry bear will want meaty you rather than stringy little old me,” the badger said before he sat down. He jumped up just as suddenly with a yelp. “Something bit me.”
Leech got up and inspected the spot. “It’s a piece of metal sticking up from the snow.” Crouching, he dug for a moment to clear more of it. When he tried to pick it up, he found it was attached to a leather belt. “It’s a belt buckle with some sort of design. There’s three cats—”
Bayang leaned over to look over his shoulder. “No, those are three lions. And there’s nine hearts. That’s the coat of arms of Denmark. It must have belonged to a freebooter.”
Leech let go. “But what’s it doing here?”
“Who cares? Maybe he left behind his watch too,” Koko said. Curious, he swept a hind paw back and forth like a broom. “There’s something.” His voice fell. “It’s a boot.” He held up the long thigh-high boot like the kind the freebooters wore.
Below the ice, they heard a splash as the seal dove for safety into the water. Roxanna threw away the rest of her tea. The liquid froze in the air, falling in tan-colored beads of ice.
Then she gripped her rifle in both hands as she scanned the area. “A bear might have gotten him.”
Suddenly the tranquil spot didn’t seem so peaceful anymore. By common consent, they all threw away the remainder of their tea and mounted Bayang.
As she rose into the air again, she was relieved to see that the winds had died down to a breeze. And Bayang resumed the chase with even more determination than before.
18
Scirye
As they flew in the direction of the Wastes, they kept an eye out for Roland, but so far there had been no sign.
With the long night, Scirye lost track of time, so she felt as if they had been chasing their enemy forever over the frozen ocean. Nor was each break very restful after their discovery of the freebooter’s belt and boot. It seemed to her that there was always someone or something watching them.
It made all of them jumpy so that the slightest sound made them whirl around to look, and it seemed to Scirye that she even saw something flitting behind a boulder or another time a small creature dipping into a crack in the ice—both moving much faster than a seal could have.
“What else could we see up here besides bears and seals?” she asked Roxanna.
“There are Arctic foxes,” their guide replied. “They feed off the scraps that bears leave. And there are wolves.”
“But whose side are they on?” Scirye wanted to know.
“Their own side,” Roxanna answered.
It didn’t help Scirye’s peace of mind that she was always cold despite her furs and Pele’s charm. Nestled inside her coat, Kles had settled into a torpor, and Koko’s teeth were chattering constantly. Scirye could not imagine how Roxanna was coping, since she only had her furs to protect her. Instinctively, the riders had pressed closer together for warmth.
After every stop, they took turns acting as a shield against the wind for the others as they rode on the dragon. And it happened that it was Roxanna in front when she announced, “There’s a storm brewing. We should build a shelter. That must be an island up ahead.”
Scirye leaned to the side so she could look past Roxanna. Perhaps when the ocean unfroze it would be an island in the middle of the water, but right now it looked like a giant mountain of soap flakes rising out of the chunky landscape.
“I don’t see any signs of a storm,” Scirye objected. “It’s important to keep after Roland, not stop. How far are we from the Wastes?”
“About three days’ flight,” Roxanna replied, and then added humbly, “I don’t want to go against your wishes, Lady, but I have to. A good caravan leader senses the hazards ahead of her. And I can feel it in my bones. There’s a storm coming and it’d be bad to be caught in it. The correct conditions can make a whiteout. That’s when there’s so much snow in the air that you can’t tell up from down or your left from your right. We ought to be on the ground preparing for it.”
“I’m just as much in a rush as you, Scirye,” Leech said, “but we ought to listen to our guide.”
“I concur,” Bayang said, and began to descend.
The dragon brought her wings down in roaring strokes that sent them shooting on ahead—though the great effort made her pant raggedly. When they
were over the island, the dragon folded her wings over them so that they were almost enclosed in a leathery tent.
Scirye’s stomach did flip-flops as they dropped through the air with sickening speed. Just as she was ready to scream, she felt Bayang’s powerful shoulder muscles ripple as she beat her wings clumsily.
Snow flew up about them in a cloud as they landed with a thump. Wearily the dragon laid her head in the snow. “Dropping was easy. Stopping was hard. Next time let’s take the train,” she moaned.
Koko squirmed and then groaned as he swung a leg up. “I was afraid I was frozen to your hide.”
“I don’t need a hood ornament,” Bayang snapped.
“The island should help protect us,” Roxanna said, “but it would be better to build an igloo too. Only I don’t think we can make one big enough for your size at the moment. Could you shrink again?”
“I’ll shrink to whatever size you need,” Bayang said, laying her head on her paws and closing her eyes. “But for the moment I need to rest.”
Roxanna slid off the dragon’s back with the others. Then the Sogdian girl tried to fetch something from one of the baskets hanging on the dragon’s back, but she was having a hard time because her fingers were so stiff with cold. Scirye got off and walked over to her awkwardly. “What are you looking for?”
Roxanna had put her hands under her arms to try to warm them. “There should be several long knives to cut the snow with.”
Scirye pulled out what looked like a short sword in a sheath. “Is this it?”
“Yes, Lady, thank you.” Roxanna started to reach for it, but Scirye waved her back.
“Warm your hands,” Scirye ordered. She pulled out three more, as well as a small collapsible shovel.
Even though her fingers were still stiff and clumsy, Roxanna insisted on putting the shovel together. Then she knelt and began to feel the snow. “It’s not as tight as I’d like, but I think it will do.” She looked up. “And thank Nana we found the island,” she said. “We’re so numb with cold and the winds are so strong that we might have had trouble building it out in the open, but the island should help protect us.”