by Shannon Hale
“Ha,” Conor grumbled. “You smell at least as bad as I do.”
“No, really,” Rollan said. “I mean, like, your sense of smell is better. With your, I don’t know, wolf-snout powers, you might be able to sense if we’re being followed.”
“Oh,” said Conor, glancing behind them.
“But probably also because you stink,” Rollan said.
After what felt like hours, Rollan could make out an Ardu village in the distance — a different one than they’d left, he thought. There were maybe a dozen people watching them. Rollan could see the glint of spears in their hands.
“Can they see us?” Rollan shouted over the wind to Tarik.
Tarik turned his head toward the distant village. “Probably,” he called back. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be holding spears.”
“They suddenly don’t like us?” Rollan asked. “They must think we’re someone else.”
“Or perhaps one of the Ice City’s mail walruses got through,” Meilin said.
One end of Rollan’s rope was tied to Meilin. He tugged on it playfully, making her almost stumble. She gasped and tugged back. Hard.
Rollan flew forward, banging into Meilin. She grabbed him, trying to keep upright, and he grabbed her, trying to keep from falling. And for a moment they stood there, covered in leather and furs, and beneath it two people who were, essentially, embracing.
“Sorry,” Rollan said.
But she didn’t let go. He turned his face slightly, and the openings of their hoods brushed together. Her face was very close. Instinctively his mind whirled, searching for something teasing to say. But Abeke beat him to it.
“If you two are done playing kissy-face,” she said, tugging on the rope.
Meilin and Rollan both pushed away from each other and began walking again.
Still, Rollan kept one hand on the rope that tied him to her.
About an hour beyond the last Ardu village, the wind began to grow so fierce that the snow it whipped up around them made it impossible to see more than a few feet. After Meilin crashed into Maya hard enough for both of them to collapse into a heap, Tarik called for camp.
IT IS AMAZING THAT I CAN FIND THIS COMFORTABLE,” Abeke said, sitting propped against her pack as the side of the tent near her flapped violently from the winds. “I actually feel warm. Is that odd?”
“Not so odd,” Maya said, holding her hands over a hole she had hollowed out into their “floor.” It was now warming the space with a small fire, seal fat burning in a pan as they’d learned from the Ardu. All six of them were crammed together, but the others were sleepy from the long day, already dozing against the pillows of their packs.
“That is incredible,” Abeke said, leaning closer to the fire. She spoke softly, so their conversation wouldn’t disturb the others. “All of our animals are fantastic, but what you do feels truly like magic.”
Maya flushed. “Thank you, but to me, what you do, what all of you do, is magic.”
“Summon our beasts? You do the same.”
“Not that,” Maya said, “though I think what you do with that bow might qualify as magic. No, what I mean is how each of you can do this, all of this, and not be . . . be afraid.”
Abeke closed her eyes. “I think none of us are without fear.”
Maya nodded. “I’m sure that’s true. But I guess I . . .” She took off her right glove and held her hand out to Abeke, palm down and low, as if worried someone else might wake up and see. Her hand was shaking.
“You’re freezing,” Abeke whispered. “Put your glove back on!”
Maya smiled. “Take my hand. Just hold it for a second.”
Abeke took Maya’s hand in hers, fully expecting to rub some warmth into it as Conor had done for her feet, but Maya’s hand was as warm as if she was sitting on a beach in Nilo.
“I never really get too cold anymore, as long as Tini stays warm.” At the mention of his name, the little salamander poked his pointed head up from under Maya’s scarf and darted back under again.
Abeke looked down at Maya’s hand in hers, shaking. She was reluctant to let it go. It was a comforting warmth to her own cold hands, but she also felt Maya needed something. Something she wasn’t sure how to give.
“I’m not cold,” Maya whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’m scared.” She took her quaking hand back from Abeke and gripped both her hands together, as if trying to force them to be still. “What happened in the Ice Palace . . . the bear, the roaring, the walls broken, the ice shattering, the screaming . . .” She shut her eyes. “I almost died. We all almost died.”
“But we didn’t,” Abeke said, smiling.
“We didn’t,” Maya said, returning Abeke’s smile with a sad one of her own. “But something in me — I don’t know . . .” She looked at her hand, still visibly quivering. “I don’t feel . . .” Her voice began to shake as hard as her hand. “I don’t feel right anymore. If anything . . . anything else happens . . .”
Maya shook her head, flashed an apologetic smile, and lay down, her face turned away.
Later, amid the sounds of sleep, as Abeke lay wondering how one could fix things that are broken on the inside, she heard the flap of the tent open and close. She sat up, wary of an intruder. All bedrolls were quietly occupied, except one. Meilin’s spot was empty, the overcoat she used as a blanket cast aside.
As Abeke began to shrug on her own topcoat, Rollan sat up, looked at her, and then at the empty bedroll. “Meilin?” he mouthed silently.
Abeke nodded, and Rollan held up a finger, as if to say “Wait.”
She did, but every second that passed she thought of Meilin out there in the snow, freezing without her coat. Finally she shook her head, twisted the toggles that would keep her outer coat on, and rose. Rollan’s finger became a hand, palm out, and then two hands. “Hold on,” he mouthed.
A few seconds later, the tarp parted, and Meilin quietly padded in. She lay down on her bedroll and began to snore.
Abeke raised her hands, palms up, and mouthed “What?!” to Rollan.
He raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and dropped back into his bed.
Abeke lay down, her coat still on, and crossed her arms over her chest. What was that? Did Meilin do that often? Often enough for Rollan to know about it, obviously, but what did it mean? Was Meilin broken too?
Abeke sighed. Obviously, her brain was not going to let her sleep much tonight.
She drifted, waking often at every noise, her mind trying to solve all the problems — Maya, Meilin, Shane, and the Greencloaks.
She must have slept for a time, because when she woke again, a faint glow bled through the tent flap. She wrapped her coat and bedroll around herself and went out, finding Conor sitting on his pack, Briggan beside him.
“It’s peaceful, alone in the morning,” Conor whispered, so as not to wake the others.
“I can leave you alone —” Abeke started.
“No, sit. You’re not company.”
“Um . . . thanks?” said Abeke.
“I meant,” said Conor, “being with you is like being with family. You’re someone I can relax with.”
Abeke sat.
Conor laid his hand on Briggan, wriggling his fingers into his fur. Abeke released Uraza, and the leopard stretched and yawned, showing off her sharp teeth, and then curled up on Abeke’s lap as if to get warm. She was much too large, spilling off of Abeke’s legs. Abeke put her arms around Uraza’s neck and lay her cheek on the top of her head. Uraza purred.
“It’s so bleak and cold, no sheep for hundreds of miles,” Conor whispered, “but the sun rises everywhere on Erdas. The sun is just as cheerfully yellow here as it is in Eura.”
“But muted,” said Abeke. “I miss the fierce strength of the Niloan sun.”
She heard the rustle of movement within the tent.
“Was it a dream that woke you, C
onor?” Tarik asked from behind.
“No,” Conor said, fidgeting a little. “Well, yes, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t significant.”
“Tell me,” Tarik said.
“No, really,” Conor said. “It was silly. It was, like, a shoe dream.”
“I’m sorry?” Tarik said, confused.
“We were on the ice and we all had weird shoes,” Conor said, as if embarrassed, but now committed to getting the story out. “Yours were furry and had tails that moved. Rollan didn’t so much have shoes as tiny little wings on his ankles. Meilin had on boots that looked like dumplings, with really long green laces that seemed to trail behind us for miles.”
“I see,” Tarik said, the hint of a smile on his lips. “And the dumpling shoes shocked you to wakefulness.”
“No, not that.” Conor glanced at Abeke and back at his hands. “Abeke had, like, these fantastic slippers made from fire, which of course kept her feet warm, but also started to melt the ice. She started sinking down, and nobody noticed but me. I tried to run to her but my shoes, they . . .”
“Yes,” Tarik prodded.
“They . . . they were walruses,” Conor said. “Like, little foot-sized walruses with their tusks stuck in the ice. They wouldn’t let me run. Abeke fell into the water under the ice, and then I woke up.”
“If only it were true,” she said. “I could use a good bath right now.”
Conor smiled at her, but then he stared a little too long at her face. “Oh, you look terrible,” he said.
Abeke rubbed her face. “Well, thank you. If nothing else, I can perhaps achieve perfect unpleasantness on this trip.”
“What? No! Er . . . what I mean is, um, not that you . . .”
“You look tired,” Rollan interrupted, emerging from the tent. “I think that’s what he means.”
“Yes!” Conor said. “Are you okay? Did you not sleep?”
Tarik had walked to the opposite end of camp and was staring intently at the horizon.
“Rollan,” he called. “Can you see the coast from here? It should be directly west of us.”
“I had difficulty sleeping, yes,” Abeke said. “Meilin’s night walking had me worried and up thinking for hours.”
“Wait, what?” Conor said. “Meilin was out walking at night again?”
“Yes,” Abeke said. “Without a coat even.”
“I can’t see anything!” Rollan called back to Tarik, and then he turned to Abeke. “It’s nothing. We’ve seen her do it before, and she doesn’t like to be interrupted. Maybe it’s a kind of meditation for her. Anyway, she always comes back.”
“Is she sleepwalking?” said Conor. “The Greencloaks say sleepwalking is a normal part of bonding.”
“Meilin is well and truly bonded by now,” Abeke said.
A drowsy voice called from inside the tent. “Okay! I’m up! Stop calling my name!”
THE COAST HAD BEEN CLOSER THAN ROLLAN THOUGHT. Tarik assured them that it was only a few hours’ march away, but Rollan had been convinced he was just saying that to raise their spirits. But now they walked with the afternoon sun angled to their right, the salty sea air thickening the wind. They didn’t get too close to the water, afraid of thin ice, but Rollan’s sharp eyes could see slate-blue sea and the sharp white cracks of waves.
The goal was to get to an Ardu settlement and get a ferry to carry them to Eura. They had stopped their march for the moment, and Tarik was investigating something on the ground. Bug droppings, maybe. It seemed to Rollan that they were stopping like this every few minutes.
“Are we lost, Tarik?” Rollan called, loud enough for everyone to hear. Essix, on his shoulder, fluttered her wings.
“No,” Tarik said.
“Because it looks to me like we’re lost,” Rollan said.
“We are not lost,” Tarik said.
They walked in silence for several minutes, which Rollan figured was a few minutes too long.
“Not that I don’t enjoy a good walk around an entire continent of ice,” Rollan said, “but is there a reason we didn’t just go back to where we crossed to get here in the first place? As nasty as it was, at least we knew that route.”
And suddenly Rollan was attacked. What felt to him like a giant centipede leaped onto the back of his leg, skittered up his back, and clamped onto his head. Rollan screamed. He was certain it was going to either eat his eyes or lay eggs in his brain, or both.
“Get it off!” he yelled, running in circles, too afraid to touch the thing with his own hands for fear of losing a finger to the thing’s inevitable teeth.
And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the weight on his head was gone. He looked around and saw Lumeo scamper up to Tarik and crawl into his coat. Then Rollan noticed the laughing. Maya and Abeke were giggling, and Conor was bent over, laughing those deep belly guffaws. Color rushed to Rollan’s face.
Meilin wasn’t laughing, but she was smiling, which might normally have made him feel mocked, but for some reason it didn’t. Her smile made him smile.
“Yeah, so I thought Lumeo was a giant, carnivorous centipede,” Rollan said, laughing.
Only Tarik stayed exactly as he was. “We’re taking a different route back to Eura, and Greenhaven,” he said, answering Rollan’s question as if he hadn’t just scared the life out of him with an otter attack. “Because I want to avoid Shane and his people.”
Rollan grunted.
“We have been stopping to look for seal holes,” Tarik continued, “like the one over there. We are officially out of food. And what our animals have been able to scavenge will not be enough to sustain us.”
Rollan had mixed feelings about this. True, he was hungry, and while seal would not have been his first choice of meal, he didn’t mind it. It was really the stabbing and the skinning he didn’t like. There were kids on the streets of Concorba who would skin and eat rats, but just watching one of the other kids skin a rat made him lose his appetite. It seemed simpler, less cruel, and slightly less gross to get his food from garbage heaps. Unfortunately, there were none of those in Arctica.
“Is the great survivor of an otter attack going to restore his honor by spearing us dinner?” Conor asked.
“Um,” Rollan started, ready to bow out of the whole process, when he saw Meilin looking at him and for some reason abruptly changed his opinion. “Get me a spear,” he said.
And then they waited. And waited. And waited. Realistically, Rollan thought, it had probably only been an hour from the short distance the sun had traveled, but lying motionless on the ice tended to make time pass very slowly.
After another ninety-seven hours — at least according to Rollan’s reckoning — he thought he saw some movement. Rollan cocked his spear arm back. Something broke the surface of the water in the hole, and Tarik struck first, throwing his own spear at the mark, barely missing. There was a terrible cracking sound, and the ice buckled under Rollan’s feet, pushed upward from below.
“Get back!” Conor shouted, and Rollan did, just in time to see a demon emerge from the ice.
“WALRUS!” Rollan screamed. He scrambled back, unable to do anything but point at the beast that had emerged from the ice. Tusks swung at Tarik, who darted to one side to avoid being hit, but his otter-enhanced speed did not match well with the ice underfoot, and his feet spun out from under him.
“WALRUS!” Rollan yelled again, still pointing, still scrambling backward, but afraid to tear his gaze away from the thing. Abeke and Meilin loosed their spears at the same time, but they missed as the walrus charged. Meilin dodged, sliding into a roll that put her next to Tarik, who was back on his feet. Abeke skittered backward from the galloping behemoth as its bulk plowed into her, knocking her flat on the ice. The walrus raised its tusks to strike, and Uraza flared into existence. The great cat let out such a roar that the walrus actually stopped.
Brigg
an and Uraza both leaped, but the walrus slipped back into the hole with a splash.
Rollan’s backward scramble had stopped when he hit a snowdrift, and as the walrus disappeared, he realized he was still pointing at where it had been. Maya was beside him, pressed against the snowdrift too, knees pulled to her chest, eyes wide. Her eyes darted to his.
“Walrus,” Rollan rasped, voice hoarse from shouting. She nodded, and he dropped his hand, sore from pointing so hard.
“Well,” said Tarik, “we would make terrible Ardu hunters.”
They started on again. Rollan was full of nervous energy, walking twice as fast as the others.
“That was not a seal,” he said. “That was supposed to be a seal. That was a seal hole. But that wasn’t a seal. That was NOT a seal!”
At the next seal hole, they waited again, and were at last rewarded with a seal — no tusks, no charging, no walrus rage.
Abeke’s arrow struck the seal’s neck. She knelt beside it and whispered, “I’m sorry to take your life, friend. My . . . my family here needs your meat to survive. I took a shot I knew was true and would give the least amount of pain. Thank you; in your death you have saved our lives.”
Everyone was quiet for some time after that.
Tarik, Conor, and Meilin busied themselves with cleaning and stripping the seal of its meat, parceling out chunks to eat now and chunks to carry with them. Maya put some seal fat into their metal pan and set it afire, though it was too small to cook over. Maya could sear the meat with her power but could not maintain the flow of fire long enough to cook it properly. Most preferred to eat it raw, like the Ardu. Maya moved away, to stand alone and watch the sea, and Abeke went to her, putting an arm around her back.
They traveled in peace for two more days, living off seal meat and two mutilated somethings that Great Essix hunted. Gradually, rocky land emerged from the ice, and another Ardu village perched on its southern coast. Rollan didn’t care about the boat, didn’t care about crossing, he just wanted to trade them whatever property he had for a good chicken-and-potato stew, though a nice corn hash with sweet peppers wouldn’t go amiss.