by Tara West
“I thought you used a warming stone to heat your fires.”
“Ryne took the stone to bed, so tonight I’m using mites.” Only a few families possess warming stones,” Jon explained. “When you shake the mites hard enough, not only do they glow, they burn.”
As if to emphasize his point, Jon shook the door harder, and the buzzing turned into a frenzy of pops. The stew on the burner began to steam and boil.
Markus was so fascinated by the bugs, he barely had time to grieve over the loss of his warm stone. No doubt Ryne took the stone to bed so that he had to spend a cold night on the floor.
“Burning bugs?” Markus asked.
“Yes, very hot.” Jon wagged a finger at Markus. “Never touch them when they are angry unless you’re wearing thick gloves.”
“How is it that they haven’t melted your entire kingdom?”
Jon turned his back to Markus again as he pulled the pot of broth off the burner and set it on the bench. “Slogs keep the mite population under control.”
Markus scrunched his brow, thinking those slogs must have had innards made of iron. “So, slogs eat the burning bugs?”
Jon nodded as he poured the dragon weed into a large bowl. “Yes, the temperature doesn’t affect the slogs. We also use mites to tell the time. When a crystal has half-melted and the dripping water has formed an equal-sized crystal below, that is how we know it is the noon hour.”
Markus eyed the dragon weed, hoping the offering wasn’t for him. Although his nose stung, he would still try to chew a few of his meat sticks. Markus breathed a sigh of relief when Jon pulled up a chair beside him and began slurping on the bowl of slimy weed.
“Strange how I never noticed those mites before,” Markus said, watching Jon swallow a long tendril.
“Perhaps,” Jon answered in between spoonfuls, “because your mind is always occupied with troubling thoughts.”
“A dragon pursues me, a powerful goddess wants me dead, and my curse killed my mother–now it threatens my brother.” Markus ended on a shaky breath as he struggled to hold back tears at the thought of his late mother and sick brother.
“What of your father? Do thoughts of him trouble you as well?”
Markus could no longer meet Jon’s direct gaze. He turned away, preferring to focus on the subtle twitching of Tar’s ears. “The only comforting memory of my father is the day he died, when I knew he could no longer hurt my brother and I no longer had to cower in fear at the sight of him.”
He regretted the sound of despair that broke through the cracks in his voice, but while his father would have scolded him for going ‘soft’, he was tired of holding back his emotions.
Jon laid a hand on Markus’s shoulder and squeezed until Markus was forced to turn back and meet his soft gaze. “How he treated your brother is not your fault,” he said.
Pools of moisture threatened to spill out of Markus’s eyes, and his throat felt tight and swollen. “Everything has been my fault. I am no better than the monster who sired me.”
Jon dropped his hand to his side. “I did not know your father, but I do know that you have goodness in your heart. Ura and I can both see it. In time you will see it, too.”
Again, Markus was compelled to look away. Jon’s pity was too much for him to bear. He closed his eyes and silently cursed as a hot tear slid down his cheek. How could he ever grow into a man strong enough to face the challenges of Ice Mountain and Madhea’s dragon if he cried like a soft female?
“I take it Ryne’s meeting with Odu did not go well?” Jon asked.
Markus wondered whether Jon had changed the subject out of interest or pity. Either way, he was relieved to talk about something else.
“The prophet expects Ryne to save the kingdom, but offers him little help other than a few confusing parables.”
Jon chuckled. “Yes, that is the way of Odu. I know Ryne is under a lot of duress, but that doesn’t give him the right to hurt you.”
Markus shrugged. “Others have fared worse than me. After bringing the curse upon my family, I deserve more than a broken nose.”
Again, he was assuaged by guilt: guilt over his mother’s painful death; guilt for abandoning his brother and leaving him to fend for himself; and guilt for unleashing the dragon who, when awoken, could wreak havoc on his village.
Most of all, Markus was overwhelmed with regret for needlessly killing animals. If he hadn’t shot that rabbit in the gut, and all those other animals purely for sport, mayhap he wouldn’t have brought on the curse. But it was too late for all that now. Markus only hoped that Madhea would see he was truly sorry for his crimes.
“Has the pain gone now?” Jon asked.
Markus pulled away the cloth and was surprised to find the throbbing in his nose had subsided. “Mostly.”
His eyelids felt heavy and Markus wondered if it had anything to do with the potion.
Jon set down his bowl of broth and then stood in front of Markus. Markus winced as Jon grabbed hold of his chin with one hand and his nose with the other. Somehow, he feared this would hurt more than the initial breaking of his bones. Markus was vaguely aware of Tar whimpering beside him.
“Hold still and try not to scream,” Jon said, and then jerked Markus’s nose with a nauseating crunch.
Despite the warning, Markus opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The blinding pain was so intense; it was unlike anything he’d ever known. For the briefest of moments, Markus realized how very much his brother had suffered at the hands of their father. How had Alec withstood the torture of broken and bruised bones day after day?
After a while, Markus was able to make the slightest of sounds from his gaping jaw, just before his world darkened.
TRAINING SESSIONS DURING the next several weeks were brutal. Ryne continued to belittle Markus’s efforts, and with each step Markus took upward, he seemed to take three more back down. Why was he so deft with a bow and arrow, yet so clumsy when it came to climbing a simple slope?
If the days with Ryne were grueling, the nights with his family were even worse. The dark gloom that shrouded Ryne like a fog seemed even heavier when they ate supper.
Brother and sister barely spoke, and their father’s thoughts were occupied elsewhere. Their family made for sad company, reminding Markus of the nights his family ate in silence following one of the many times Father beat Alec.
The depressing gloom of Markus’s hosts only made him miss Alec more. Thoughts of his brother plagued him during the day, often distracting him when he should have been watching Ryne.
At night, Markus’s mind would wander again to Alec, only he’d think of his mother, too, and how his foolishness had killed her. Guilt and depression consumed him, and on many mornings he’d wake up exhausted after only a few hours sleep.
As if Markus hadn’t been tortured enough, Ura’s presence whenever they found themselves momentarily alone unnerved him the most. The soft lilt of her voice, the accidental brush of her skin against his, or the way she looked at him with her large silver eyes, almost as if she could see into the very depths of his soul, was nothing less than torture. How he wanted this beautiful girl for his own, but Markus knew their love was never meant to be. Not when he was plagued by the curse.
Ironically, the only family member who managed to pull Markus out of his gloom was Tar. The dog had taken to sleeping with him most nights. Markus was getting used to the mutt’s snores and the occasional times when he’d lick his nutsack or pass gas. Markus sometimes marveled at the fact that he’d actually learned to like an animal at all, but this change within him was nothing compared to the alteration in his outward appearance.
Jon had shown Markus his image one day in the reflective surface of a flat ice crystal. It was after they’d returned from bathing in one of the many warm springs found within the deep pockets of the glacier. He could hardly believe the pale and thinning boy with the slight crook in his nose was his own reflection. The color in his skin and hair had faded to an almost translucent
, touched with a blue tint, just like the features of Ura and Jon. Even the hunter’s mark on the side of his head had diminished to a pale blue.
Markus wondered how much more he would change before it was time for him to leave Ice Kingdom.
Chapter Fifteen
“Wake up, Markus.”
He slowly opened his eyes to see Ura smiling down at him, her pale curtain of hair cascading down one shoulder in a long braid. The small chamber echoed with the sound of her boot tapping against the floor.
“What is it?” Markus asked, as he struggled to sit up with his one good arm, the task being made even more difficult as he had busted open his shin on the Gnull Tusks the previous day.
Ura planted both hands on her hips while leveling him with a determined expression. “Ryne is in a foul mood today and I wish to go fishing.”
Markus rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Fishing?”
She nodded. “Yes, Father says I am not to go alone, so come with me.”
“I thought we had to travel in large parties for fear of gnull attacks?”
“Gnulls?” Ura vehemently shook her head. “They cannot swim that far up river. It’s too shallow where I fish.”
“Your brother said they traveled to Ice Kingdom.”
The girl flashed a lopsided grin before she burst out laughing. “And you believed him? I think mayhap Ryne was trying to frighten you.”
“Aye,” Markus grumbled, feeling a fool for believing Ryne’s tale and an even greater one now that Ura knew he’d been tricked. “That is something he would do.”
“It takes our hunters three days to reach the gnulls,” Ura said, sitting down beside him and casually brushing her arm across his. “The river swells just below the edge of the glacier, before it separates into several creeks. That is where you will find the gnull colony.”
Markus looked down at the spot where her skin had briefly made contact with his own, making his flesh buzz with energy. He tried not to think about her nearness as his heart raced. How did this girl affect him so, even when their conversation drifted to giant, tusked beasts?
Markus scooted away from Ura as he shook off the feel of her. He refused to draw out his torment by pining for a girl he could not have. “But your river is rising. One day the gnulls may be able to reach you here.”
Ura’s eyes widened. “I hope not. It takes many hunters to bring one down. If the gnulls reach Ice Kingdom, this part of the river will not be safe.”
“Then let us hope your brother is wrong.”
The thought of a gnull attacking Ice Kingdom, mayhap even Ura, sent a knot of fear through Markus’s gut, especially as he, The Mighty Hunter, would be powerless to stop such a beast.
“My brother has been charting the water levels since he was a boy,” she replied. “For the past six springs, the river has risen by a hand taller than before.”
Standing, Ura grabbed a bowl off a nearby table and held it out to Markus. “Eat, so we may go.” She nodded toward his bandaged leg. “Father has added herbs to the broth and it will ease your pain.”
Markus accepted his dragon weed breakfast with a grimace. He was getting tired of eating this sludge every day, but the hollow ache in his stomach demanded nourishment and he hoped the herbs would calm the throbbing in his leg. Markus tipped the bowl into his mouth and gulped it down, expecting a violent reaction from his palate, but, oddly, the broth didn’t taste as foul as it had before.
“Where do we go?” he asked.
“To the Danae,” Ura replied as she sat beside him with her own bowl and began spooning dragon weed into her mouth. “You will see for yourself how the river swells.”
Tar jumped off Markus’s cot and spread his paws in front of him while raising his hind legs in a long, complacent stretch.
Oh, to be a dog and have no other cares in the world other than hunting for scraps and sleeping on a warm fur. For a moment, Markus envied the mutt. To his knowledge, dogs did not suffer from broken hearts. If they lost a mate, they simply found another. He hadn’t heard of Madhea cursing animals either, so Tar would never need fear heartbreak, the ice dragon, or the wrath of the Goddess.
After they had finished their dragon weed and Tar had devoured several serpent fins, Markus and Ura prepared for their trip to the river. Ura carried a satchel slung over her shoulder and a long spear, made of what looked like an animal bone, with sharp, barbed hooks at the tip. Markus carried a pail. He also strapped his boning knife to his boot; not that he intended to kill anything, but he could at least make himself useful by fileting the dead fish.
Ura tried to give Markus a fishing spear, too, but he refused, knowing that, as part of Madhea’s curse, he couldn’t kill another living being. There would be neither fishing nor hunting for him this day.
Markus sighed as he glanced over at his unstrung bow and arrows, resting in the corner of the chamber. How long had it been since he’d drawn back a bow? How long would it be before he could once again feel the hum of the string as he released an arrow, or before he could fell, gut, and clean a beast for a stew? He missed being a hunter.
After they stepped out onto the long and winding tunnel, Tar slipped through the flap and followed behind.
Markus turned and pointed toward the door. “Go home, Tar,” he commanded.
The dog looked to Ura and whimpered while dancing around on all four paws.
“It’s okay. Ryne said Tar is to be my protector,” she said before whistling to the dog.
Tar came bounding up to Ura. When she bent down and patted him on the head, he planted a big, wet kiss on her lips. She giggled, and then stood and wiped her face with the back of her sleeve.
As Markus watched the affectionate interaction between Tar and Ura, he found himself in the odd position of being jealous of a dog.
“A protector?” asked Markus. “What dangers lie at the river?”
But when Ura averted her gaze and began marching in the opposite direction, Markus had his answer. Tar was there to protect Ura from him.
THE TREK TO THE RIVER took much longer than the walk to the Gnull Tusks. The trio navigated winding tunnels, some so dark that Markus had to walk with one hand clutching Ura’s satchel. Occasionally, he would catch sight of a creature covered in ivory fur hanging from an ice crystal at the top of the cavern. Having already seen a few of these slogs before, Markus knew them to be harmless, but he still didn’t like walking beneath them in the dark. If they happened to be feasting on angry mites, one of the scorching bugs could easily slip and fall on his head.
The Kraehn holes were much easier to spot than Markus had initially feared, for whenever their small party reached within a few paces of a hole, the fish would bubble and snap their greedy little jowls in anticipation of food. While Markus and Ura steered clear of the Kraehn holes, Tar would whimper and walk an even wider circle around the predatory fish.
Markus was thankful that most of the journey was downhill. On this particular morning his mind felt muddled and focusing on the act of walking across the slick ice took extra effort. He suspected it had something to do with the herbs, but he didn’t complain. He’d rather have a brain of mush than be constantly reminded of his aching shin.
Markus wondered if Mother had ever made a similar brew for Alec after Father’s beatings. Then his thoughts would darken, wandering back to memories of his brother and regret for his actions that brought on the curse.
Markus’s mood did not seem to affect Tar, whose bushy tail wagged in constant motion as he practically trotted across the ice. Even Ura walked with a hint of cheerfulness in her gait. Every so often, she’d stop to pet Tar while she waited for Markus to catch up. The mutt greedily soaked up her attention as he licked and nuzzled her hand. Again, Markus found himself in the position of being jealous of a dog.
Markus heard the river before he saw it.
“See how much the water rises?” said Ura, pointing into the distance.
Continuing his steady pace, Markus squinted in the dim light as the d
ark tunnel opened up to the most magnificent sight he’d ever seen. A river spanning at least ten men in width flowed rapidly through a mountain of ice, creating a cavern, whose crystalline walls jutted up toward the sky, and leaving an ice ledge of about five men in length on either side of the water. Shards of light burst through the curtains of ice that draped the walls and reflected off the water, creating a brilliant prism of color.
Markus inhaled the cool scent of fresh water and then breathed out a heavy sigh. Something about this place made him feel alive. Then he spotted fish jumping through the milky water. These were not the kind he’d seen before, with long bodies and jagged spines. No, these were plump fish with protruding, round eyes and shimmery scales. The most remarkable thing was that their fins flapped so quickly they buzzed, like the wings on an insect.
Tar barked and danced on his paws as his canine gaze eagerly followed the flying fish. It took several serpent fins to finally calm him, though Markus knew it only bought them a little extra time. For, as soon as Tar finished the fins, the mutt would resume his barking. Markus only hoped the dog wouldn’t get too excited and fall into the river.
“What are those?” Markus asked, pointing at the odd fish.
“Soaring Perch,” Ura answered as she shrugged her satchel off her back and clutched her spear in one hand.
Markus marveled at how the fish leapt from the water and seemed to be suspended in the air for a long moment before returning to the milky depths of the river.
“Do they taste good?” he asked, as the rumble in his innards reminded him that dragon weed and serpent tails were not enough to sustain his hunger.
“They are not sweet like Lazy Eyed Serpents,” Ura answered.
Markus’s mouth began to water. Mayhap these fish tasted like real food. The fish resembled the perch he had eaten from Danae Creek, although those didn’t soar.