by Clark Bolton
When they stopped to eat, Ich-Mek’s face felt frozen, and his feet were constantly aching now. Tass was handling the conditions much better, he could see. The man never shivered, nor complained about the chilling wind.
“You will freeze soon,” Tass announced as they ate.
“What about you?” Ich-Mek replied crossly. “I got spells…what d’you have?”
Tass ignored the jibe. “Can you create a fire?”
“No…but can’t you?”
“Which one of us shall I burn?”
Ich-Mek was getting tired of his platitudes. Lying mountains, and foolish regents, and now burning bodies. Tass was right though; they had no firewood, and the mountains here were devoid of trees.
“I can light candles,” Ich-Mek admitted, in case that meant anything.
“Some warmth in a cave,” Tass informed him with a nod.
“I have a cold-resistance spell,” Ich-Mek then admitted. “Never tried it.”
He could see a combination of concern and hope in Tass’s eyes. Seeing no point in waiting, Ich-Mek took off his thick mittens, which he immediately regretted: in the wind his hands became instantly almost too numb to handle his spell-book. It took him nearly an hour, all the while huddling down behind some rocks, to memorize the spell to the point where he was confident enough to cast it.
“Who first?” he asked seriously, then realized it was a stupid question.
Ecstasy made the cold go away, but he knew it would be a short respite. He was wrong though; pleasantly wrong.
“My hands aren’t cold anymore,” Ich-Mek exclaimed as he held them in front of his face.
All the feeling had come back in his toes, and his face. With delight he stood up and pulled back his hood. The wind seemed almost warm now, as did the snow and the rocks he reached out to touch.
“Onward, Tass!” he yelled before turning and approaching the nervous little man.
__________________________
Try as he may, Tass couldn’t find a ridge leading to the north, which he kept insisting was the best direction in which to head. This resulted in them moving further west into the heart of the mountains that Tass called the Cold-Daughters. Ich-Mek had never seen that name on any map, but admitted to himself that he likely wouldn’t have remembered seeing it.
Ich-Mek was always hungry now as Tass kept tight control of their food supply. At first he had argued with the man, insisting he be given more, as he wasn’t use to traveling. Tass had refused, saying, “Will you eat your dung when all is gone?”
In retaliation Ich-Mek stopped casting cold-resistance spells on Tass. This seemed to ease his hunger a bit, and made him conclude spell-casting was taking away all his energy. He knew this could happen; instructors had warned using too much magic in a short period of time could exhaust one – even possibly result in death.
“Are you cold?” he asked Tass as he followed him blindly across another ridge.
“No,” the man replied without turning.
“Good!” Ich-Mek mumbled to himself. “Not casting anything more on you.”
He did keep the levitation magic running, though, and that was hard enough. The spell would last for only an hour, and each time he cast it his heart would race for a while, then later his belly would rumble.
Tass stopped after a difficult climb that had brought them to a particularly high ridge. “If we go another day, we cannot turn back.”
“Why?” Ich-Mek asked in confusion, for they had often discussed returning to the river.
“No food,” Tass replied as he pointed with his pole toward a distant peak.
Ich-Mek stepped up beside him to have a look. The mountain was larger than all those around them, and in fact looked to be the largest in the whole mountain range.
“The Cold-Mother!” Tass announced. “I did not think to see it.”
The peak rose high enough above its neighbors to make Ich-Mek think it would be foolish for them to approach. What’s more, the valleys between them and the peak looked too numerous to count. So far Tass had avoided climbing down into any valleys – for fear of avalanches, he had explained. Ich-Mek couldn’t see how this could be avoided now.
“You sure that’s it?”
Tass nodded his head confidently. “No one climbs the Cold-Mother.”
Ich-Mek shook his head, saying, “We don’t have to!”
“Near it we will climb,” Tass then announced before starting to walk again.
Ich-Mek groaned, then started after him. “What about the river?”
“I see no way,” Tass replied. “We go north or south around the Cold-Mother. The Daughters will be difficult.”
“But you’ve never been there!”
“Look with your eyes!” Tass exclaimed before then starting to carefully prod the snow in front of him.
“It all looks the same!” Ich-Mek complained. “How do you even know your village is to the west?”
“The Mother tells me so.”
“The Mother you’ve never seen before?” Ich-Mek asked sarcastically.
“My people know the Cold-Mother well,” Tass assured him while pushing him back.
A great chunk of snow then broke off before them, cascading spectacularly down the side of the ridge. Like dozens of times before, Ich-Mek watched the snow turn into a powdery cloud. He again wished he had a pole like the one Tass carried.
Chapter 16
“The snow feels like sand.”
This Ich-Mek said absently to a man named Venfs in his dream. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t all that sure Venfs was a man…but that didn’t seem to matter. Anyway, he thought to himself, the snow even looked a little like sand, though it would have taken a blueish sand to match the snow he was seeing. White snow mixed with just a hint of blue snow, which Tass had never bothered to mention to him, existed.
“Awaken, Ich-Mek,” a voice boomed in his head as he tried to determine which way to face in order to get his first real look at Venfs.
When Ich-Mek finally thought to open his eyes, more of the sand-like stuff fell on his face. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, so he wasn’t really surprised by it. Tass often made snow-caves in the side of drifts, and then lined them with blankets, so that they could sleep the night out of the wind. So snow all over him wasn’t new.
“Why does it glow?” he asked aloud as he put thoughts of Venfs out of his mind and sat up. This sent another cascade of the stuff down onto his head, and down the back of his shirt. “Ahh…cold!” he complained.
The snow-cave must have collapsed, he thought, which didn’t alarm him as they avoided using large drifts in case this very thing happened. What’s more, his cold-resistance spell must have worn off. He thought about digging himself out before casting another, as that would be easiest. But then he began to feel really chilly.
Laying back again, he found there was just enough space for him to make the casting gestures for the spell. The snow glowed even more as he cast. Feeling warm now, he scooped up a bit of snow to examine it. The fact that the glow of the snow made this possible nearly brought the chill back.
“Tass!” he called out loudly. “Tass!”
He then tried to think which way to dig. Usually his feet faced the entrance to the caves they built, so he tried working his feet free. He yelled for Tass several more times as he did this. Still no answer.
He started to panic a little when he fully realized he didn’t recall climbing into a snow-cave last night. Avalanche he realized; what else could it be. Struggling hard he managed to turn over. More of the blue-tinged snow presented itself to him now.
“Tass!” He yelled in a panic when he realized this was enchanted snow. “Tass!” He screamed as loud as he could.
Unable to go toward his feet, he started clawing his way in the direction he was now facing. He uncovered Tass’s leg almost immediately. When he realized what it was, he tried hard to rouse the man, but couldn’t. He thought for a moment that Tass might be dead, then pushed the th
ought from his mind.
Casting the cold-resistance spell on Tass, he then worked to uncover his guide. Tass still had his coat on, and his climbers-pole was still attached to his wrist. Neither of these would be the case if they were in a snow-cave: Tass slept with his coat off, and his pole carefully stowed beside him.
Ich-Mek breathed a sigh of relief when Tass began to move. There was barely enough room for the both of them to remain free of snow at the same time. When he saw how blue Tass’s face was, Ich-Mek nearly panicked again.
“Cold,” Tass said softly as he began shivering uncontrollably.
Feeling remorse now for refusing to cast the spell on Tass earlier, Ich-Mek could only think to heat up some water and find what little food they had left. This, he hoped, would get Tass warm. He knew a cantrip for heating water, so after filling a tin cup with what he hoped wasn’t enchanted snow, he cast it. To this he added a handful of dried noodles, all the time trying to keep Tass awake by talking to him.
The soup helped, and so after a while Tass began to look better. His face took on a normal hue, and he began to ask what had happened.
“I don’t know,” Ich-Mek admitted. “I woke up in this glowing snow…then found you.”
“Where is this snow?”
“All around us,” Ich-Mek replied, then began to suspect that Tass couldn’t see him.
He lit one of the small candles they had with a cantrip, then gestured around them. Tass still didn’t see what he did.
“It’s a spell, Tass,” Ich-Mek then explained to a now skeptical-looking Tass.
“You did this?”
“No! Now how do we get out?”
Fortunately, the drift they were in turned out not to be that deep, and Tass was able to dig upward and out, in only a few minutes. They found themselves under a starry night sky, still with the Cold-Mother looking down on them.
“How long?” Tass asked as he gathered up the supplies.
“I don’t know,” Ich-Mek admitted.
Then he recalled casting the cold-resistance spell. They normally lasted for six or seven hours. He suspected now that he had awakened when the spell last ran out.
“I think now…maybe five or six hours.”
Tass stopped packing suddenly, then looked at him with wide eyes that Ich-Mek could just make out from the glowing snow. The man looked terrified. Looking around for the cause of it, Ich-Mek saw nothing unusual but glowing snow. He then concluded that the strange snow comprised only a single snowdrift. No were else in sight did he see any hint of a glow.
“Yeti!” Tass hissed before hurrying to pack.
Even Ich-Mek had heard the creature’s name before. Students and instructors alike at Kay-Tar-Om School had scared the innocent with tales of the yeti. They supposedly inhabited the mountains around the school, and were said to prey on those students daring to venture out at night. Older students had known better than to keep believing in such spirits.
“They’re not real, are they?” Ich-Mek asked in a whisper.
Tass nodded his head several times, then motioned for him to be quiet. When ready to go, Tass began searching the wide ridge they were on, and signaled for Ich-Mek to do the same. Tass found nothing, and seemed about to give up when Ich-Mek pointed out a trail of glowing snow.
“It goes that way…down the side there,” Ich-Mek told him in a whisper.
The trail was odd, he thought. For many steps there was nothing to indicate the supposed yeti had passed, then handfuls of the stuff looked to have been tossed about. It made Ich-Mek conclude the thing was carrying the snow somehow.
“How big is it?” Ich-Mek asked Tass in a loud whisper, as the man gazed down the trail.
Tass shook his head at the question. “This way, you think?”
“Yes!” Ich-Mek replied with confidence, then began looking back the way they had originally come. He wasn’t sure how much they would have to backtrack to find another ridge to straddle, but that seemed their only option.
“This way,” Tass told him as he pointed down the trail of glowing snow.
“That’s the wrong way. The yeti went that way…I can see the snow trail.”
“We must find food,” Tass replied.
Ich-Mek shook his head at the man. “Can’t we try another way?” he asked.
“No! Tomorrow your belly will complain from the spells. The day after, you will complain endlessly.”
“I won’t…I promise!”
Tass turned his back as he looked down the trail again. “The next day you will not talk at all…”
“Tass!” Ich-Mek growled. “Stop talking like that!”
“…After that day, you will refuse to move.”
Ich-Mek just stared at his guide’s back in despair for a while. Then, when Tass began moving down the trail, he found himself reluctantly following. Thoughts of what yetis ate filled his mind, but not his belly.
__________________________
The trail of enchanted snow had stopped after a few hundred steps, but Tass still continued along the side of the ridge. Ich-Mek kept wavering between being happy the yeti trail had been lost and being fearful about starving because of it. When they had started going up a steep incline, Ich-Mek saw one last glowing remnant of snow.
“It goes down there,” he had said to Tass, who had been unable to see the glow.
Tass had come hurrying back, then tentatively began descending down the steep trail, which now looked to be leading into a deep ravine. This turned out not to be the case.
“This looks built by someone,” Ich-Mek suggested when they found themselves on a trail partially protected by the cliff above them.
At points the trail was nearly cave-like, and instead of descending further it stayed level for the most part. Fearing another attack that might bury them in snow again, Ich-Mek had cast every detection cantrip he knew. Even casting the reveal spell hadn’t helped to this point.
“They are clever,” Tass remarked, which had been the first thing he had said in some time.
“Should we wait for dawn?” Ich-Mek asked.
The starlight had been enough for them to walk on the white snow and ice, but now deep shadows lay across the path. He decided he would cast a glow cantrip on a small rock rather than risk falling into some crevice. Tass hissed as soon as he did it, but then calmed some when Ich-Mek covered the stone with his fist.
“Here,” he said softly as he handed it to Tass before quickly making another for himself.
Tass had lashed his dagger to the end of his climbing-pole, and had been holding it out in front of him for protection. Ich-Mek could only think to have the restraining spell ready, as a backup to the only real weapon they had. A short time later he was thankful again for his liberal use of magic.
“There is a rune there!” he hissed to Tass, who had just walked beneath it.
Stopping, Tass then looked closely at where Ich-Mek indicated the rune was, and, on finding it, ran his mitten over it several times. They looked at each other in confusion, both wondering now if yetis could possibly write such things.
“Lift me up,” Tass said softly as he looked to the rock face above the rune.
Ich-Mek then motioned with his hand, and was thankful to find that the levitation spell he had cast previously was still functioning. Tass half-floated, half-crawled for a short distance before climbing into a crevice that Ich-Mek hadn’t realized was there. Moments later, Tass began to hand down bundles made of bark, which looked to contain things, to Ich-Mek.
“Cane,” Tass then whispered down as he began lowering long pieces of what Ich-Mek took to be bamboo.
It wasn’t, though, and when Tass came down he used his dagger to cut off a piece the length of his arm. This he began chewing on like it was food.
“What is it?” Ich-Mek asked as he watched.
“Sugar-cane,” Tass replied. “Chew it…don’t swallow.”
Ich-Mek accepted a piece and then did as Tass suggested. The cane turned out to be very sweet and tough. It
made his stomach growl suddenly, making him want to chew all the more.
The bark bundles, they learned, contained mushrooms. Though they frozen, this didn’t stop them from hungrily stuffing them into their mouths. It wasn’t a satisfying meal, but it did make Ich-Mek start to feel confident about moving onward.
“Should we wait for dawn?” Ich-Mek asked again.
“They may return then,” Tass replied as he began moving again with his crude spear held out in front of him.
More than an hour later they came to a dead end. In disbelief they began searching around for something they had missed, but found nothing, not even a rune. Looking down over the edge of the cliff they saw no possible way to descend. Upward looked equally as impossible.
They sat down to eat more mushrooms as they talked about what to do next. When the first hint of dawn came, Tass became almost frantic in his search for a direction in which they could go.
“You are the dragon-mage,” Tass suddenly said.
It sounded like some kind of accusation to Ich-Mek, who nodded his head with a frown. “I…don’t know anything about yetis,” he said defensively.
Tass kept looking at his Owesek-ring, making Ich-Mek even more nervous than he already was. Finally he could take no more of it, so walked several steps away, then sat down and began going through his spell-book. Maybe there was an answer here, he thought, while he kept an eye on Tass.
He glanced through the spells, one by one, until he came to the location spell. This he hadn’t memorized in a while, but could now if need be. Looking over to where Tass leaned against the rock face, he wondered if he could find something with it.
“I have a spell,” Ich-Mek muttered just loud enough for Tass to hear. He then began memorizing it. When done, he stood and stepped closer to Tass, then with a scowl began casting it as if Tass was the target. This frightened Tass enough to make the man move quickly by him, which left Ich-Mek staring at a glowing crack in the cliff face.