Crossing the Black Ice Bridge

by Alex Bell

  “Let’s get out of the orchard,” she suggested. “Perhaps we’ll be able to see around us a bit better then.”

  “Good idea,” Shay said. He peered closely at her. “You know, you’re very pale, even for you. And that was a lot of magic back there. Are you feeling okay?”

  In fact, Stella felt absolutely exhausted—like she’d just run a marathon or something. What she wanted most of all was to crawl into bed and have a good long rest. But there was no time for that now. Queen Portia had said she wouldn’t be able to hold off alerting the Collector to their presence for very long. So although Stella’s fingers itched to erect the magic fort blanket and recuperate for a while, she shook her head and said, “I’m fine. Let’s keep moving.”

  The snow-boat had been left on the bridge, so they would have to walk. Ethan scooped Melville up and tucked him back into the front of his cloak as the explorers stepped on to the white path. But the second they began to walk down it, something extraordinary happened. Every purple fruit in the orchard started to sing a lilting, lovely song that caused the trees themselves to shiver and their leaves to turn from bright pink to sky blue.

  “Good heavens!” Ethan exclaimed. “What in the blazes is happening? Are we under attack?”

  They all stopped on the path, and the fruit immediately fell silent.

  “Oh my goodness!” Beanie whispered, a look of wonder shining in his eyes. “Could it be… ? But no. Surely not… ?”

  “What are you babbling about?” Ethan demanded.

  Beanie shook his head and said, “I have a theory. Everyone start walking again.”

  They all did as he said, and immediately the fruit began to sing to them once more. Stella couldn’t understand their language so had no idea what they were singing about, but the song was utterly beautiful nevertheless and it made her heart soar to hear it.

  “These are the singing blue trees!” Beanie exclaimed.

  At that moment a bird landed on a nearby branch, tilting its head this way and that as it looked at them with a curious expression. It looked a little bit like a peacock except that it was smaller and its feathers were a glorious red and yellow and orange. The next second, it disappeared in a little burst of flames, before reappearing on the ground at Stella’s feet.

  “Gracious!” she gasped. “Isn’t that a firebird?”

  “I thought firebirds were extinct,” Ethan said with a frown.

  “The orchard of singing blue trees and the aviary of firebirds,” Beanie muttered under his breath before looking up at the others. “I think I know where we are! These might very well be the Hanging Gardens of Amadon!”

  Everyone stared at him for a moment.

  “Impossible!” Ethan finally replied. “The hanging gardens are just a myth. They never existed.”

  “But this is exactly how they were described by explorers in the ancient accounts,” Beanie said.

  Shay frowned. “I thought that Amadon was somewhere on the other side of the Exotic South Sea. That’s at the other end of the world from where we are now. If these really are the hanging gardens, how could they have gotten all the way over here?”

  No one had an answer to that, so they continued walking through the orchard—serenaded all the way by the fruit—until they came out on the other side, where they stood and gawped. For Beanie had been quite right. These really were the Hanging Gardens of Amadon, dangling beneath the Black Ice Bridge on individual islands that each hung from their own silver chains. Some of the gardens looked tiny—no larger than Stella’s bedroom back home—while others seemed to be big, sprawling places, large enough to accommodate an entire forest.

  Swaying rope bridges connected one island to another in a circle, and Stella could see that on their right-hand side was the aviary of firebirds that Beanie had mentioned. The air above this island was all lit up with orange and yellow flames as the birds flitted to and fro, curling and diving through the air, leaving dancing fire in their wake. And on their left-hand side was a large island that consisted of tiers upon tiers of cascading waterfalls—the sapphire-blue water edged with lacy foam. A cool clean smell wafted across the gap to Stella and the others.

  She could make out a few of the other islands, and they all seemed to consist of some unique botanical marvel. She glimpsed trees with zebra stripes on one of them, golden parrots swooping through the air on another, and trickling fountains whose water seemed to run the wrong way—up toward the sky rather than down to the ground—on yet another.

  But even more extraordinary than the gardens themselves was the fact that someone clearly lived here. In the middle of the circle was another island, which contained a beautiful mansion with a white-pillared facade and a fantastically huge globe adorning its front garden.

  Beanie nudged Stella and pointed at the wrought-iron gates at the edge of the road. She noticed that these, too, were engraved with an image of a globe, surrounded by words picked out in curling ironwork: The Phantom Atlas Society.

  The explorers gazed at one another.

  “That must be where the Collector lives,” said Shay.

  Stella frowned. “It’s not what I imagined,” she said. “I thought an evil sorcerer would live in a dungeon or something.”

  She glanced back the way they had come. There was no sign of Queen Portia following them yet. She looked around for another way down to the gardens from the bridge but couldn’t see one. Perhaps the snow queen had some other means of communicating with the Collector? Either way, if they hoped to retain the element of surprise, they would have to move immediately.

  It was the moment they had all been building up to, and yet now that they were here, Stella found herself hesitating. She was so very afraid of the Collector—or Jared Aligheri, as she now knew him to be—the man who had murdered her birth parents and changed her life forever. And the thought of coming face-to-face with him filled her with dread. Suddenly, this felt like the last place in the world she wanted to be. But the Collector had taken the Book of Frost from her, and she needed it back.

  She straightened her shoulders and turned to the others. “Well, then,” she said. “That central island must be where we need to go. How do you think we get there?”

  “It’s too far to jump,” Ethan said. “Shame we don’t still have that magic carpet—then we could fly across and make a speedy escape later too. Goodness knows how we’ll ever get back up to the bridge.”

  “Let’s worry about that later,” Stella said hurriedly. “There must be some way; otherwise the Collector would be trapped too.”

  “The rope bridges seem to lead from one outer garden to the next,” Beanie said. “And it looks like some of them lead to the central garden. That one over there is probably the nearest one to us.”

  He pointed at the garden on the other side of the waterfall one. They could only see the edge, so it wasn’t clear what the garden contained.

  “Right,” Shay said, shouldering his bag. “Let’s head there, then.”

  They made their way around the outside of the orchard to the rope bridge leading to the waterfall garden. It was very narrow and seemed to stretch a long way, but it looked strong and stable enough, and the explorers began to walk across it in single file. The gargoyles followed them—Stella supposed they were eager to try to recover Queen Portia’s stolen heart. She briefly considered using the dragon to talk to them again, but her head still throbbed and she didn’t dare use another magic charm again so soon.

  “So, let’s have it, then,” Ethan said to Beanie when they were about halfway across the bridge.

  The elfin boy looked back at him in confusion. “Have what?”

  “You love those death facts. Aren’t you going to tell us how many awful, dangerous things there are in the hanging gardens that can kill you dead? You must be gagging to educate us about how many people have been poisoned, incinerated, pulverized—”

  “None,” Beanie replied promptly. “No one has ever died here, that we know of. The hanging gardens were designed
to be a paradise by the emperor of Amadon, as a birthday gift for the empress. They are full of natural wonders and priceless artifacts and beautiful things.”

  “Oh,” Ethan replied, taken aback. “Well. That’s a pleasant surprise, I must say. It’s about time we had some luck.”

  “The gardens themselves may not be dangerous,” Shay said quietly. “But we know that the Collector is.”

  They carried on across the bridge. A blue sea spread out beneath them, dotted with sparkling white ice slabs. They soon reached the other side and began their winding ascent up the path that ran alongside the tiers of waterfalls. Each one cascaded into a pool, which then led to another waterfall. Stella peered into one of these pools on the way up and saw it was full of small orange fish with red fins.

  “Fortune-telling fish,” said Beanie. “They can see the future.”

  “Gracious,” Stella said, peering at them.

  The temperature was so pleasant that the explorers were forced to remove their cloaks as they ascended the waterfalls.

  “How is it so warm here?” Stella asked. Of them all, she was the most uncomfortable in the heat. “We’re still in a very cold part of the world, after all. There was even ice floating in the sea back there.”

  “The gardens probably have a magic weather charm placed on them,” Beanie said. “So they have their own climate.”

  The explorers and gargoyles finally reached the top of the waterfall pyramid and began to make their way back down the other side. Instead of fortune-telling fish, the pools in this part were home to water sprites—a kind of blue fairy with shimmering dragonfly wings. Stella saw them flitting about the water or sitting on the edge to dangle their slim feet into the pools. They waved at the explorers but made no move to interact with them in any way.

  Stella would have liked to speak to them and indeed to explore all of the hanging gardens properly, and Beanie clearly felt the same because he sighed and said, “It would have been wonderful to find the singing harp that’s meant to be here somewhere. And the candy urns and the cartwheeling roses.”

  But there was no time for that, so they pressed on to the rope bridge that led across to the other garden. When they first arrived it appeared to be just a pretty manicured space, but then Beanie gasped and said, “Look! It’s the ornamental pears!”

  He pointed at a row of five plinths up ahead. On each one there rested a vibrant green pear.

  “What are they made from?” Stella asked, peering at them. “Are they jade or emerald or something?”

  “Oh no,” Beanie said. “They’re much rarer than that. These pears are made from ogre boogers.”

  “Gross!” Ethan exclaimed. “Why the heck would anyone put ogre boogers on display in a garden? Let alone shape them into pears in the first place?”

  “Most peculiar,” Melville agreed.

  “Well, they’re fantastic barometers,” Beanie explained.

  “They’re what?” Ethan snapped.

  “A barometer is a kind of weather predictor,” Stella explained. “It measures changes in atmospheric pressure.”

  “That’s right,” Beanie said. “An ornamental pear will be green if good weather is expected, but it’ll turn black if a storm is coming, or blue if there’s to be snow. Then there’s purple for hurricanes, red for typhoons, silver for tornadoes—”

  “Sounds like a very useful thing to have at sea!” Ethan exclaimed. “Perhaps I ought to take one back to the Ocean Squid Explorers’ Club.”

  “I don’t know if you should remove anything from the gardens,” Stella said, uncertain.

  “Why ever not?” Ethan replied. “They belonged to the empress of Amadon, who’s long dead, and it’s not like there’s anyone left to enjoy them around here. Except maybe the Collector.”

  Before anyone else could protest further, Ethan snatched up one of the ornamental pears. Stella half expected a trap of some kind to spring up around them, but nothing happened as Ethan stuffed the pear into his bag. Stella frowned at the now empty plinth but didn’t say anything more. They continued through the garden and out the other side, where they found themselves standing at the start of the rope bridge that led straight to what seemed to be the Phantom Atlas Society’s headquarters.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  NOW THAT THEY WERE on the other side of the central island, they could see things that had been hidden before. They appeared to be looking at the back of the house, which had a large wraparound porch with several comfortable-looking rocking chairs. A rope ladder led down to the ocean below, where there was a little floating pier. Docked there was a tiny submarine, very similar to the ruined ones they had seen up on the bridge. Only this one was shiny and new and they could clearly see the black Phantom Atlas Society symbol painted on the side.

  The submarine wasn’t the only interesting transport by the house, however. A hot-air balloon floated gently off the side of the island—a handsome thing with gray and white stripes and a large wooden basket.

  But most incredible of all was the strange contraption parked on the sweeping back lawn. It had a long body, with a tail at the end and great wings spreading out from either side. There was also a shining propeller at the front, as well as a cockpit in the middle that looked just large enough to seat one or two people.

  “What in the world is that?” Ethan asked, staring at it.

  “I think it might be some kind of flying machine,” Stella said. “I read an article about them in one of Felix’s journals the other day. There are lots of people around the world who’ve been working on trying to invent one. The idea is that they’d be faster than balloons and dirigibles, easier to control, and more fuel efficient.”

  “No one’s perfected it yet, though,” Beanie said. “Although there have been thirteen deaths and a further twenty-four injuries in the attempts.”

  “Look!” Stella said, suddenly noticing something. “There’s a door open on the patio there.”

  “The Collector could be in there for all we know,” Ethan pointed out. “If the four of us just go strolling into the house, he’ll probably turn us all into lizards. Or whatever it is that sorcerers do.”

  Stella recalled the vague memory she had of blood on the snow when the Collector had gone to her home all those years ago and had to suppress a shudder.

  “Well, what choice do we have?” she asked. “If he still has the Book of Frost, then it’s most likely to be in there somewhere. So we need to go inside and look for it. And Queen Portia’s heart, if we can.” She studied her friends’ faces. “Maybe you should all stay here? I can go across and search for the book. There’s no sense in everyone risking it.”

  But the others were all shaking their heads at her before she’d even finished the sentence.

  “Not a chance,” Shay said.

  “We go together,” Ethan agreed.

  Beanie nodded as well.

  “All right,” Stella said, pleased she wouldn’t be going in alone after all. She glanced at the gargoyles and said, “Why don’t we split up? The four of us can try to find the Book of Frost while the gargoyles search for Queen Portia’s heart.”

  One of the horned gargoyles nodded its agreement. They walked over the rope bridge and a few moments later their little group was hurrying across the lawn. There was no cover, and Stella was painfully aware they might be spotted from one of the mansion’s windows at any moment, so they ran as quickly as they could, finally reaching the relative cover of the porch area, where they avoided the windows and pressed their backs up against the wall.

  Stella was nearest to the open door and she tiptoed over, pausing to listen for a moment. She could hear the faint scratch of a gramophone playing a violin record from within, but when she peeked around the doorway she saw that the room was empty. It was a library paneled with dark wood, and bookcases lined the walls. In one corner, a green globe stood beside the gramophone on a walnut table.

  Stella beckoned to the others. With their hearts racing, they slipped into the room and
hastily perused the bookshelves in the hopes that the Book of Frost might be there somewhere. But all the books in the library were related to travel. They saw atlases and almanacs and expedition logs, but nothing magical like the Book of Frost.

  Fortunately, there was no sign of the Collector, either. They breathed a sigh of relief before cautiously making their way to the door on the other side. Stella pulled it open, and they all tumbled out into a darkened corridor. Other doors led off it, and at the end was a grand staircase that led up to the second floor. The gargoyles immediately scampered toward this—moving surprisingly quietly on their stone feet—while the explorers went the opposite way, down the hall. The tiles on the floor looked like they belonged in an explorers’ club—they each depicted a mode of transport, such as a hot-air balloon or a train, or an exotic location such as an island, or a volcano, or a jungle. Framed maps adorned the walls, only they were for places that Stella had never heard of before.

  “Look,” Beanie whispered to Stella. “The doors have names on them.”

  Stella saw he was right. Each door had a brass plaque on it. As none of them had any idea where the Book of Frost might be kept, especially given that they had already searched the library, they crept along to the nearest door, which contained a plaque reading ISLAND ROOM.

  The junior explorers frowned at one another.

  “There can’t really be islands in there, surely?” Shay whispered.

  “Let’s find out,” Stella replied. She pressed her ear to the door, listening for any sign of the Collector. There was no sign of him, so she carefully turned the knob and pushed open the door.

  It was unlocked and swung forward easily beneath her hand. They stepped inside, and Stella thought they were in another library at first. It had the same polished wooden floorboards and shelves lining the walls, but it was a much larger, taller room, and these shelves weren’t filled with books—instead they contained snow globes. There was row after row of them, with ornate silver bases sparkling with silver snowflakes, just like the one Queen Portia had used to trap Koa. The shelves reached up so high that there was even a ladder to get to the top ones.