by Hot Ice(lit)
Company was on its way. I got to my feet, slung my rifle over my shoulder and heaved on the makeshift harness of the sleigh. Outside, the blizzard was perfect for my escape.
I think I got maybe five hundred yards from the cavern entrance before I heard the slap of leathery wings in the air overhead.
It came from in front of me, riding the stiff snow-filled wind. I dropped my sleigh-harness and brought my Winchester up and jacked a round into the breech. The sky overhead was filled with clotted snow. It was falling so heavily it was almost as if it was drifting before it hit the ground. Then, like a death-mask breaking through a white curtain, the tornaq came through head-on, tusks trailing like white keels, arms spread with talons hooked and ready to slash, wings spread wide and already coated with the snow.
I brought the Winchester up and zeroed in on the broad space between the black, pebble-like eyes. 'If I'd'a known you were dropping in -'
I fired the first shot and saw the hole tear open between the eyes, and the blood jet out.
'I'd'a baked ya a cake!'
The tornaq didn't seem fazed by the slugs. But a cry came from behind me and I realized that although I hadn't hit the true target, I'd hit something.
Then I heard a voice crying out, torn to scraps of sense on the snow-brindled winds: 'Return to me, my children of the night-skied abyss!'
Then I heard another gossamer treading of the wind before me, and the tornaq I'd shot plummeted into the snow beside me.
I looked around, mystified. I didn't get it - the other two weren't attacking me.
I didn't want to look a gift tornaq in the mouth, so I slung my Winchester over my shoulder, picked up my harness and began ski-walking out of there as fast as I could.
I knew it couldn't last and it didn't. A few minutes later I heard the leathery slap of wings as they fought through the blizzard. I kept my head down and plunged on, trusting to wind conditions being such to send them low enough that when they saw me, I'd see them too. With the wind at my back, I knew they'd be coming at me head on.
And sure enough they did.
I dropped my sleigh harness and reached for my Winchester. But the tornaq wasn't attacking this time. It spread its wings in a great vane and settled lightly into the snow, then it turned its great broad back to me and I could see Monro, still clad in his light cavern clothing climb down from his perch on its back.
Before I could raise my rifle, Monro came striding through the snow, one arm upraised imperiously.
'Halt, mortal. I mean you no harm!'
I kept my rifle raised. 'Oh, yeah. So this has all been a slight misunderstanding, I suppose!' I was trying to keep an eye out for the second tornaq, which was nowhere to be seen. Now that I had stopped, there was no reason why it should remain airborne and so I knew it could attack me from any direction it desired.
Monro continued, 'There's no way you can get back to safety, Wolf! At least, not without my help!'
I lowered my rifle in surprise. 'Huh? How'd you know my real name?'
Monro grinned insanely. 'The spirits have whispered your name to my tarnaq as it howled mindlessly in the cold wastes -'
'Never mind all that mumbo-jumbo - what did you say about getting me back to Anchorage?'
'I meant it, Wolf. My pet - this tornaq here - can carry you swift as the wind. Go it alone and I'll call the bears to dog your every step -'
I glanced nervously about, eyes narrowed to keep the snow out of my eyes. 'There's gotta be a catch, nature-boy. You want something. What is it?'
'You're smart, Wolf,' said Monro with a feral smile. 'You're right. I want my medicine bag.'
'Medicine bag?'
'Yes. I know you have it.'
'How do you know? Wait a minute - that's why you called off your goddamn flying meat-hooks.'
Involuntarily my fingers closed about the medicine bag at the butt of my gun. 'This is why I was able to blow it out of the sky so easily!'
I brought my hand up with the medicine-bag in it. And then something like a white mountain swooped down on me - that second tornaq! It roared down on me, slamming me into the ground, the Winchester going off as my finger caught against the trigger. And then the rifle was jarred from my hand by the force of the impact.
I heard Monro screaming: 'The medicine bag, my pet! Get the bag!'
I was too winded to say anything more than, 'Oooooff!'
The tornaq shrilled, 'Rawwwrrr!' at the top of its voice, right into my ear.
In our struggles, we found ourselves at the top of a snow-capped ridge. Below, I could see the hot glow from lava streams reflecting off the underside of the snow clouds.
Then we were rolling down the slope.
I heard Monro shouting: 'No, not down there! There's a -'
'Cliff,' my body supplied as the tornaq and I left terra firma behind and plunged down towards the bubbling lava pools below.
'Ravine!' screamed Monro from somewhere, 'way, 'way overhead.
I had seconds to live, but I wanted to die with the tornaq knowing that it could have worked out differently. I managed to wrestle the medicine bag up and shove it into the tornaq's fearsome visage.
'Listen to me' I screamed, 'you satanic son of a bitch. This here's a medicine bag. That makes me the head honcho round here. You better start flying or we're both chopped liver!'
And, you know what? It knew! That goddamn, godawful, god-forsaken monstrosity knew what I was saying!
The tornaq slipped round like a seal in water, opened its wings with a slap of sails unfurling and suddenly our fall became a controlled power dive. It was all that I could do to hang on grimly, frantically. The red glow from below filled my entire landscape.
And then I felt the lift from the thermals below take effect, the wingspread of that infernal steed was enough to stop us from vaporising in the molten rock.
The power-dive turned into a long swoop and 'Yeee-hahhh! We made it!' burst from my throat.
Below me I could see Monro and the other tornaq. My sleigh looked like effects from a doll's house.
Monro shook his fist at me, raging and spitting: 'You've not heard the last of me, Wolf!'
I'd heard all I wanted of him, as I clambered up over onto the back of the tornaq.
'Hey, boy, take me home, James, and don't spare the horses!'
The tornaq growled over its shoulder at me. I drew my hand back as if expecting to get it bitten off.
Then I relaxed and patted its furry hide. 'Ulp. Henh-henh. Good doggie!'
I leaned over and showed it the medicine bag. 'Listen up, Fido. You do what I tell you to. Now - mush!'
Beneath me, like a dream, the snow-filled landscape fell away. The tornaq climbed upwards, above the storm clouds until we came out beneath the gaze of a bone-white moon. My spirits soared with the passage on the winged minion, so much so that I began to hum 'Flyin' down to Rio' - I broke off, jubilant at my own elation. 'Flyin' down to Rio,' I told the tornaq, 'geez, I wish I was.'
As if in answer the brute rumbled deep in its breast.
'Somehow, "Flyin' down to Anchorage, Alaska" don't have quite the same ring to it.'
Once again the tornaq rumbled, as if agreeing with me.
I tickled the mane of fur on the great hump of muscle that flexed and spread, piston-like, to give the lift to its great wings. 'There! I knew you and me could get along!'
On and on the great beast flew, and relief at my narrow escape, combined with the fears I'd experienced over the last month, all added up to give a dream-like air about the event. I felt the medicine-bag glowing in my hand and as the tornaq flew, I fell into a reverie, floating between waking life and dream.
I saw Monro running through the tunnel into the cavern, followed by his one remaining tornaq. 'He shall not escape me!' In a frenzy he drew the medicine-circle in the dust before the idol of Malsum.
'Inua yua ta yaruu Tonralik Malsum tarneq tupilaks -'
The flames in the altar-bowls sank low - even Monro and the tornaq cringed back as the
supernatural aura of the deity began to fill the cavern.
Monro looked fearful, the back of his hand to his mouth as if ruing his summoning.
A voice like thunder crashing on rocks spoke: 'Thou hast spoken the words and drawn the sigils and cast thy mind upon the snow-gale of eternity, Angekok. Now that thy god draws near, what need ye of him?'
Monro fell to his knees, and the tornaq grovelled on the sandy shore, afraid to look on the unleashed majesty of something from another age.
Monro managed to finally gabble out: 'I want Wolf, O Mighty One. Give him to me and I re-pledge myself to your service throughout eternity!'
Monro was blasted back as if by a stiff breeze while the voice of Malsum thundered: 'You dare to bargain with me!'
The flames in the torches grew back, illuminating the Temple once more. Painfully, Monro picked himself up from the cavern floor.
Malsum growled like thunder in the distance: 'But - because of thy past faithfulness to me, I shall grant thee a little token - a small sop of revenge -'
The tilting of the tornaq beneath me jolted me out of my reverie. My earlier feeling of elation had evaporated, yet I could see that the blizzard had boiled its own way northward. I could see the moonlit landscape beneath, some of the coastline and grids of lights that could only be Anchorage.
'About time too,' I said aloud, my face frozen with the wind playing on it. I was close to freezing despite my winter gear, but it still beat walking home.
The tornaq landed on the outskirts of the settlement, using the cover of a birch wood, and then took off. I watched it until it was just another shadow in the greater shadows between the stars. It never once looked back.
Stiffly, I turned towards the lights of Anchorage, turning my collar up. My agenda was simple. Get the first train out of town, paying for my way with a few nuggets of virgin gold that I'd picked up from the Temple. Say nothing of Monro's benighted expedition and just hope and pray that nobody asked too many questions.
I walked into the hold of the ship, right into the Temple of Malsum, with two carbines. One slung over my shoulder, the other with its butt on my hip, braced for a snapshot.
Monro, wearing a tuxedo, popped out from behind the gigantic wolf's head of the idol. 'So,
Wolf, you couldn't resist the possibility of us meeting once again!'
'What -?' I glared around, taken by surprise. 'Monro!'
I saw Monro out of the corner of my eye, but as I whirled about my attention was taken up by the fact that I was surrounded by a small crowd of tornaqs and other creatures that I'd only heard about in my briefings by Mose - owl-headed windigos.
Monro leaned jauntily against the jowls of the idol, arms folded, eyes glittering insanely. 'As you can see, Wolf, my pets are eager to meet you.' He slipped to his hunkers and slid down to the idol's waist. He gestured theatrically with both hands as if tearing apart a capon. 'To rend you limb from limb.'
He dropped to the floor of the hold and steadied himself against the gleaming knees of the image. 'They are waiting to gouge out your eyes with their red-hot claws -'
He advanced to stand before me, the muzzle of my lowered carbine brushing his chest. He ignored the rifle and held out an imperious hand. 'Now, where is my medicine bag?'
Before I could react, I was seized by several of the creatures. Claws wrapped themselves about the barrel of the carbine, other paws gripped my arms, pinning them. Something stole my hat from behind, yet others tugged savagely at the hem of my jacket.
I'd been frisked before, but never like this. A clawed hand like a fistful of scythes came over my shoulder and shredded my shirt open. I struggled, but it felt like being in a cage of knives. Blood trickled down from my chest, but then another paw caught my jaw and leaned my head back and up, exposed the leather thong of the medicine bag about my neck.
A sweep of a furry limb and the thong parted like tissue paper. Monro stepped back with a triumphant grin as the tornaq handed him the medicine bag.
Monro weighed it thoughtfully in one hand as he stared into my eyes. 'So, I receive my stolen property at last. How long has it been now, Wolf? Two years?'
'Seven hundred and thirty-two days, to be exact!' I growled in a voice that made the tornaqs about me rumble in reprisal.
Monro held up the medicine bag as if it was a jewel to catch the light. 'I'm surprised that you haven't tampered with this.'
The truth was I'd been afraid to open it - treating it like Pandora's Box.
One of the tornaqs closed its paws about my maimed wrist, forcing it up into Monro's view. Monro regarded my clawed and fur-gnarled hand with satisfaction, adding: 'And I see that Malsum allowed me a small sop of revenge -'
'I wish he'd just plain killed me instead.'
'But, that's the whole point, Wolf. Death's too good for the likes of you.'
I tried to look as if I was comfortable in this present situation. I jerked my head to encompass our surroundings. 'So - what's the deal here, Monro? You going into the religion racket? Somehow I never guessed that even you would sink that low!'
While the tornaq that had returned the medicine bag to him held up a looking glass Monro tied the medicine bag around his neck.
Monro tilted his head, squinting at his reflection. 'It's a modern world, Wolf. Even gods gotta move with the times. I figure that Malsum knew he was missin' out on what was rightly his.'
Monro patted his shoulders free of imaginary lint. 'Malsum was limited by the imagination of his worshippers. His witch-doctor was always a goddamn Eskimo whose only thought was where his next whale-blubber dinner was coming from.'
Monro grinned and tapped his temple. 'But when Angekok picked me for his next host-body, I still had all my memories. Malsum tuned in on those and realised that he was missing out on the good life. Dames, booze, the latest dance craze. Sure, he knew there was Prohibition, but he could live with a little sanctimony.'
I sneered at him through slitted lids, as I felt the blood from my chest pool at the waistband of my trousers and begin to trickle down my legs. I was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last blood spilt tonight.
My voice sounded hoarse and strained, even to myself. 'You're crazy as a monkey-house at the zoo, Monro.'
Monro's face went suddenly maniacally angry. 'I don't need no smart mouth from you, you cheap shamus. I'm in a position to make you good and sorry you ever crossed my path.'
I found myself sneering in triumph. Looks like I'd touched a nerve. 'So, you got a god to look after you now, Monro. I guess you think that makes you pretty big league stuff.'
'You better believe it, gumshoe. I got the right connections now.'
Monro clapped his tornaq-flunkey on its shoulder. 'I got the right sort of muscle to put a scare into anybody who says no to me.'
Monro's eyes shone with a glint of madness in them. 'But most of all I got the moolah to back it all up - diamonds. I got enough ice on tap to make a big freeze in this town.'
He glanced around in a grandiose manner. I could tell that he got a really big kick out of all this ancient religion schtick.
'In this town?' he added. 'Hell, I'm gonna make my mark all over this country. I'm gonna make Capone's Chicago operation look like a lemonade stand.'
While Monro had been busy talking, I'd been busy looking. The hold was a replica of the original Temple of Malsum, complete with lake. I wondered if it might even come complete with escape route. Monro's hectoring tone of voice had a calming effect on the tornaqs and windigos around me. They all had their attention fixed on him, tracking his every move as he strutted about before the feet of their god.
I stared longingly down at the lake, sussing out how to make a break for it. There was a pipe partly sticking up out of the waters, so I knew it had to exit somewhere.
In order to keep Monro talking, I tried to bait him: 'You may have a whole mountain of diamonds, Monro, but it's all hot ice. Just like you. You're all hot air.'
I strained forward, shouting up at Monro. 'You may have all the ill
icit diamonds in the world, but they lead right back to you in a trail that any snot-nosed rookie cop could follow. I'm just the first to pick up on your operation, Monro - but I won't be the last.'
Monro looked at me, appraising. Then his expression changed to one of smugness. 'Don't worry about me, Wolf. Anybody who likes can track me down. I can either buy 'em off, or -
He snapped his fingers.
' - kill 'em!'
I took my cue. The creatures holding me were mesmerised by Monro. But they weren't the only ones with claws. Wrenching free, raking my claws over the nearest tornaq, I shouted: 'It's now or never!'
The tornaq who'd blooded me fell back with a howl of pain, clutching its ragged features. My clawed hand felt heavy as if I'd scooped it full with minced beef. The others reacted slowly, coming out of their spell, but they were too late. I was already halfway to the lake, and doubling up to dive headlong into its oily, black waters.
Monro screamed at them 'Stop him, my pets! Don't let him get away!' adding further instructions in what I could only suppose to be Eskimo. But I was too busy running to do too much supposing. I hit the cool waters, and knifed down through their dark embrace.
Lunging frantically through the water, I headed for what I hoped was the position of the outlet pipe I'd seen earlier. 'Water's gotta go somewhere,' I figured. 'Just hope it isn't -'
My questing fingers found the pipe and discovered the mesh covering it.
'Blocked!'
Tugging at it, I knew it would give eventually, but the tornaqs weren't about to hand out eventually on a plate.
A water surge from behind me told me that the tornaqs were quite at home in the water. Turning, I saw a huge silhouette bearing down on me, its arms extended, claws out like scythes to slice and dice. I still had plenty of reserves but there was no way I could go a round under the water with a guy this big, this angry.
I dodged as the tornaq's claws pearled through the water towards my face. I brought my own claws up to parry and felt the satisfaction of a tremor ripple through the big guy. But I'd only dodged one set of the claws. The other set slashed out, but the tornaq was unbalanced by my feint, and his claws ploughed through the mouth of the pipe to rip the mesh away.
