Frost Burn

by K T Munson

“Soldier,” Kirill responded before slipping down from the elk.

  “We are ready to take the last of the supplies across and begin our journey north,” Kip replied, hurrying next to Kirill.

  “What is the status of the chunk of our iceberg?” Kirill asked, tossing both packs onto his back as he walked down toward the boats.

  Kip all but skipped next to him as he answered, “They are delayed because of its size.”

  “I’ll help with that,” he answered casually and tossed his two waterproof bags onto the flag ship. It was the largest of the twelve ships that would be pushing the iceberg north. The great ship had been started before the rest, and was nearly the last that they finished.

  He took up the last of his packs, and put a hand on the elk. It turned back as one of the caretakers came to take him. Patting his side, Kirill whispered, “Goodbye, old friend.”

  Kirill walked away toward the shore without looking back, and tossed the last bag into the boat before hopping in himself. The men who had marched with him boarded their own boats. Kip jumped onto Kirill’s with a grin that could have brought forth spring. Kirill moved to stand at the front with his arms crossed, gazing out across the Ashtra Sea. He could all but hear Aradel singing of it. Glancing back at the shoreline, his elk watched him with eyes that seemed to gaze straight into his soul. They had always been that way, but leaving this time hit Kirill harder.

  Turning forward again, Kirill took a deep gulp of fresh, frosty air, and let it fill his body with cold. He knew that once he left the Ashtra Sea, and entered the Ebra Ocean, he would not feel cold on his skin for some time. His only solace was he would be able to ride the iceberg alone and not have to worry about interacting much with the Fire Nation.

  It was a quiet ride to the Isle of Ice because of the seriousness of the situation. Everyone seemed somber and grim. Kirill could practically hear Kip trying to think of something to say, but thankfully that failed.

  When they reached the edge of the isle, the boat pulled alongside a rope ladder that went high up into the icy peaks. He raised an eyebrow at it but made no comment.

  He turned back to the men on this boat. “Move all the ships to a safe distance.”

  “As you command,” they answered dutifully.

  Kirill then started up the ladder. It wasn’t the most effective way, but it would do. By the time he reached the top, there was ice forming on his slightly sweaty forehead. Two men were waiting to help him up over the edge. Once he was standing on the iceberg, he surveyed the world below, and across the sea to Axion. There was nothing but the white of snow and the shadows of trees.

  “Commander,” one of the men said, coming forward.

  Kirill faced him. “What is your progress?” he asked, following him across the surface toward the crack they had started to form.

  “We have been working almost non-stop since we’ve arrived, but many of our strongest are at The Wall,” he answered, sounding nervous. “We’ll need more time.”

  It was a long walk to the fracture they were making in the isle. The isle itself was huge, and although they would be taking a hefty chunk of it, Kirill wasn’t certain it would be enough. It might have been easier to try to move the island.

  An hour passed as they made their way across the great expanse of the iceberg. Kirill approached the crevasse and peered down. Many of the men and women still worked to drill down further. Kirill was impressed with the progress they had made, but he was there now. He wasn’t the most powerful, nor the most graceful magic user, but if there was one thing Kirill was good at, it was blunt force. He walked along the crack and saw that most of the edges were done, but the center ran deep, and was defiant to their efforts. Kirill believed he could crack it though.

  “Get everyone out of the crevasse,” Kirill commanded and they pulled back in surprise. Upon seeing the shock on their faces, he added, “You’ve done well.”

  “As you command,” they chorused and gathered their things. One by one they used the rope ladders and crawled out of the fracture. Most appeared exhausted and about ready to collapse. He had thought to have their help, but he couldn’t see them doing much more than what they already had.

  “Get to a safe distance,” Kirill ordered them.

  They all seemed relieved. He reached down and helped the last of the workers out of the crevasse, then turned to watch them go. He knew it would take some time for their exhausted bodies to clear a safe distance. Thankfully, there were only a few miles of ice and snow left to break. Kirill walked up and down the crevasse, trying to find the best place to attack. In the time they had worked, they had made excellent progress.

  Taking one of the ropes left behind, Kirill rappelled himself down the wall. It would be best to work up close. He started magically drilling away at the stubborn center that refused the worker’s efforts. A little here, and a little there, Kirill worked away the edges as time ticked by. He didn’t concern himself with how long it was taking because that just allowed the workers and soldiers more time to get a safe distance away.

  Finally, he could see there wasn’t much ice left holding on. Putting his back against the wall, he put his arms out, his palms down, and started to gather his powers within him. Ice and snow exploded in all directions as he bore down into the weak spot for several minutes. He did it again, and a fracture formed along the final tendons of snow and ice that held the iceberg to the island. He turned away as ice shards flew toward his face. Kirill stumbled against the wall as the slab of ice he stood on fell away.

  He quickly took hold of the rope ladder, and was jarred violently as the freed iceberg hit the water. He slammed against the side of the wall, dangling from the rope, and scrambled to gain his footing. Swinging away from the side, he took his dagger from his belt and buried it into the opposite wall to try to steady himself. However, he watched in horror as his dagger stayed with the isle, when the iceberg floated away. Looking down at the sea beneath him as he swung back and forth like a pendulum, he held the rope tightly. He did not wish to go swimming.

  With a heavy sigh of relief, he started to climb back up the rope. It took him some time.

  Exhausted when he reached the top, he flopped over the edge, landing on his stomach. Taking another dagger from his hip, he buried it into the iceberg and held on as it continued to bob in the water, threatening to throw him from its surface. When it finally settled, he heard someone yelling and sat up. The boats had made their way back to the iceberg in the time it took him to climb the rope.

  Kip was waving at him, and Kirill noticed he was soaked from head to toe. It was quiet a moment before Kirill started laughing, realizing that Kip had gone swimming. Kirill lay back down, unmoving, as the ships got into position to attach themselves behind the iceberg and begin their journey north.

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the cloudy sky, listening to the water gently splash as the iceberg moved slowly through it. He had to admit, that was an interesting beginning to his journey. He only hoped that wouldn’t be the last time he laughed. Traveling with the Fire Nation, though, it likely would be.

  Though he heard men approach, he didn’t move. He normally would have stood up and yelled orders to keep them all in line, but everyone knew exactly how important this was. He didn’t feel as though he needed to tell them. He glanced to the side as the rope ladder leading down to the ships became taut. Sitting up finally, he peered over the edge and saw that one of the men was starting to climb it. With one leg bent, he placed his elbow on top of his knee while his hand hung loose. “Commander?” he heard Kip call from below and suppressed an amused smile.

  Standing, he looked down at the men on the boats below. Now that it was in the water, most of the iceberg was below the surface. The ships were now just fifty feet below him, which made loading supplies easier

  “Throw them up,” Kirill called.

  He moved back from the edge as grappling hooks were thrown from the ships, and sunk into the iceberg’s edges. Kirill lifted them up one by one,
and moved them further inland. He sunk each one into the hard and unyielding body of the iceberg, attaching it to the ships. Sometimes he placed them in the ground and sometimes in the peaks of ice that rose in sharp points above him. Two other men joined him, carrying barrels of water for his consumption. Barrel after barrel was moved aboard while Kirill secured rope after rope.

  Finally, the task was done, and Kirill wiped ice from his brow. It was hours of hard work, made only a little easier by the other magic users loading his supplies. Kirill would need all the water he could get if he ever hoped to reach the northern island the Fire Nation spoke of.

  “Let’s go,” Kirill told the two men who had been loading the water barrels.

  They nodded and dropped over the side, scrambling down the ropes back to the boats. The magic users who had been working on the crevasse settled on top of it with Kirill before they joined the men in the boats below. They would be able to help increase the movement of the iceberg until Fire Nation joined them.

  He glanced around at the faces of his people and felt very alone. Instead of waiting near the back with the others, Kirill walked along the length of the iceberg. He intended to watch the scout ships as they moved far out ahead of them to start checking water depth. As he walked, he wondered if the Fire Nation would have enough men, or if they would even fulfill their promises. He imagined they felt as determined to see this through as he did, but he couldn’t trust them.

  After a couple of hours of walking, he finally reached the front. It was not as flat, and Kirill had to climb up a small steep edge. Settling against it, he watched the scout ships. They were small and easy to maneuver around anything. Two checked the depth of the water on each side of the iceberg, and one in the center. Kirill sat down cross-legged, watching for any sign, and drank water to replenish his powers. He didn’t spare a glance back at the shoreline, knowing that Axion was too far away to see and he had already said his goodbyes.

  The chunk of ice, as big as a small island, began its slow and careful journey north. For now, they were still making good time, but Kirill didn’t know what was to come. All he knew, as he sailed away from his home, was that he was determined to survive this adventure. It didn’t matter how much Fire Nation helped him or hindered him; he was determined to try to save his people. That seemed like enough of a reason to survive and return to Axion. Return to his mother and Aradel. Return to his position and nation, content and peaceful. Return to his home.

  Fire: Chapter Eighteen

  The six-hour boat ride to the southwest coast was dull and uncomfortably quiet. Even Fitzu, who Thea had counted on to lighten the burden on her heart, was silent and rigid. She really hoped he wouldn’t be like this for the next month.

  Up ahead, the boats that had pulled in front started hollering at the boats behind. Idok, the Frost Nation native guiding her boat, yelled back. “Aye! Three clicks out!”

  Thea looked back in a questioning manner. “What does that mean?”

  Idok met her eyes coolly. “The iceberg is three miles out from land.”

  Thea nodded and passed a glance to Fitzu, who stared back at her, too, before they watched out ahead of them again. Thea could already smell the ocean, and she wanted to retch. It smelled like rotten old fish, a smell she regrettably realized she would quickly have to get used to.

  Not much time passed before the land of the Frost Nation, and their ridiculous wall, opened to the vast sea. As soon as they sailed out from behind that massive ice structure, a blast of arctic sea wind hit them. Thea grunted as her skin got stiff immediately. It was freezing out here! She heard all her men grunt as well from the pain of the cold.

  Fitzu instantly began to dig through their supplies. He drew out a heavy black wool cloak and tossed it to Thea. She caught it and quickly threw it around her shoulders, putting her arms through the long bell sleeves, and fastened it all the way down to her knees. Long black gloves came next that went up past her elbows. Everyone in the other boats started putting on more layers as well. Thea’s heart sank. This was going to be more miserable than she’d thought. Her only solace was that they were sailing north and would be in warmer waters and climate in about a week or so.

  The boats continued over the ocean for a while, and Thea kept searching for this iceberg that was supposedly sailing along. The boats, however, just seemed to be heading toward a random ice island in the distance. She wondered if the iceberg was behind the island, waiting. Sailing closer, Thea suddenly saw twelve ships behind the island that she’d been looking at, and her eyes went wide. The island was the iceberg! It had to be twelve miles wide! Ropes attached to the iceberg from the ships finally came into focus, and she realized what she was seeing.

  “What the f…” Fitzu said in disbelief, his voice trailing off as he stepped up next to Thea, gapping at the island with wide eyes.

  Thea quickly changed her expression, making it flat and grim once again. She wouldn’t give the Frost Nation the satisfaction of seeing her impressed with them. She subtly jabbed her elbow into Fitzu’s ribs and they faced each other. They’d known each other long enough that they could communicate without saying much.

  Fitzu immediately changed his expression to match hers and gazed over the ocean. “This will be fun,” he muttered before he went to the supplies and continued digging through them.

  Another half hour passed before the escort boats headed toward the ships at the back. One boat sailed toward the front of the iceberg to drop off the Fire Nation soldiers that would be manning the scouting ships up front. Thea’s, however, kept course, and Idok pulled her boat right alongside the iceberg.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Idok stared at her from the back as it settled along the “shore” of the ice island. “You are going to need basic directions for how to sail with an iceberg, are you not?”

  Thea sighed heavily in annoyance and looked back at the expansive mountain of ice in front of her. A staircase had been formed up the side, leading from the surface of the ocean up high to the peaks. Grasping the side of the boat, she stepped one foot over the edge onto the icy platform. Luckily there was some snow, so she had some traction under her boots, and it wasn’t likely she would fall. Stepping her other foot over the edge, she stood solid.

  “Come on,” she told Fitzu, who followed.

  Soon they were both making their way toward the more level section above. Clutching her cloak tighter at her throat as she reached the top, she stared at the endless cold white that surrounded her. At that moment, she hated everything.

  “Hey,” a deep voice said.

  Thea glanced up and saw the Frost Knight making his way down some crevasses and pillars and coming toward her. His eyes were dark and his expression lifeless. Thea clenched her teeth, seeing he was very lightly clothed while she was doing everything she could not to shiver in several layers. He didn’t even have gloves on!

  “My name is Kirill,” he said, stepping up to her. He was tall, almost intimidatingly so. Thea only came up to his chin.

  “I know who you are,” she replied shortly.

  Kirill pressed his lips together in annoyance. “And you are?”

  She almost didn’t want to tell him, but figured he might need her name over the next month. “Thea,” she said abruptly.

  He nodded once. “The basic signals you’re going to need to know are, ‘Shallow Port,’ which means we’re entering shallow water on the left side. ‘Shallow Starboard,’ which means…”

  “Let me guess, shallow water on the right side,” Thea said. “There’s also ‘shallow water ahead,’ which means we need to adjust our course into deeper waters. Lastly, ‘trouble a vast,’ which means something is wrong. Am I right?” Kirill’s jaw started working and Thea locked her eyes on his. “I have sailed before. We have an ocean and a river, just like you do.”

  Thea saw Kirill’s lip twitch. “The iceberg is about four miles under the surface of the ocean, so depths—”

  “So depths greater than four
and a half miles, no less, are safe to pass through,” Thea finished for him and glared. “I’m not a simpleton, you know. I can read your Queen’s instructions that she sent.” Thea wanted off this iceberg right now. She turned away to head back down the stairs to her boat so she could be brought to one of the ships pushing the back.

  Behind her, Kirill sighed heavily through his nose. “More insolent than I imagined.”

  Thea’s head spun around with wide eyes. “Excuse me?” She turned and stalked back toward him. “What did you just say to me?” Kirill didn’t respond, his face remaining impassive as she stepped up to him. “Let’s get one thing straight, you are not my commanding officer. I don’t answer to you, you got that?”

  Kirill glared down at her. “You may not answer to me, but you will listen to me if you want to survive this trip.” His eyes traveled over her warmly bundled form with disgust. “You’re clearly going to need all the help you can get.”

  Thea’s heart raced with rage, and she held up a finger at him. “Keep talking, frost flake, and I’ll pitch you right into the ocean,” she warned.

  His eyes narrowed and became dangerous as he brought his face down closer to hers. “The ocean won’t kill me…”

  Thea let that threat hang in the air for a second before she brought her fist back and punched him square in the jaw. His face and upper body snapped to the side, but he didn’t fall. Thinking fast, Thea hooked her foot behind his knee and pulled forward, throwing him onto his back on the ice. Yanking a dagger from her side, she jumped on top of him, ignoring the pain of his cold, and rested it against his Adam’s apple.

  “Let’s get another thing straight,” she said in a low voice as his half-closed eyes moved to meet hers. “I’m not one of the submissive little pipsqueaks you’re used to dealing with in your nation either.”

  Thea suddenly felt a cold, deliberate tap against the back of her leg. Looking down at her thigh, she realized the Frost Knight had produced a wickedly sharp ice dagger from his magic, and was holding it in a way that would sever her leg in a moment if he wished it. Thea felt her eyebrow go up, impressed that he’d been able to pull it on her. Looking back down at his face, though, and seeing his cool arrogance, Thea clenched her teeth and leaned down toward him.