Fantasy of Frost

by Kelly St Clare

  Blaine brushes past me, forcing me off balance. I stumble, but regain my footing and look up seeing the line has started moving again.

  “Watch out, Solati,” he hisses. I glare at his back. Sole shuffles past me, not meeting my eyes. Three men behind him pass me, ignoring me completely, which I don’t mind. The two men at the back, Roman, and another whose name I do not recall, gesture for me to walk in front of them. They have been sitting with Malir lately.

  Though Glacium has been sighted, the weaving pathway through the shelves triples the distance. We continue our careful journey over the icy islands, crawling over unstable bridges and, my least favourite, jumping between the shelves. We slow as we near a large vertical rock face.

  Foot holds have been cut into the rock face and a large rope spans the length of the wall, coiling in a pool at the bottom. Malir goes first, leaning back into the rope and propping his feet onto the rock. He walks his feet up the wall using the foot holds.

  Men slowly trickle up. I stand by the coil of the rope, well out of the way of the five hostile men who are still at the bottom with me. I do not feel entirely safe now most of my allies are at the top of the cliff. Dropping my pack, I pick up the end of the rope lying in the coiled heap and loop it a couple of times around my left wrist while keeping a covert eye on the group of men. I will use the rope as a weapon if I have to.

  Sole starts up the cliff face. Two of the men who ignore me, fill their skins with water from the melting frost which drips off the rock face. I debate whether I should drop the rope and fill up my own skin, when a scream of absolute terror sounds from above me.

  I whip my head up to see Sole is falling backwards, his grip on the rope lost. My mind traces the path he will take, realising he will overshoot the ledge we stand on. As it has in the past, my body is reacting before I can process what is happening. Rope in hand, I launch myself off of Oscala’s ledge into nothingness. For a moment I just float.

  My mind catches up with my body as I crash into Sole, wrapping my legs around his waist. Flying fists smack me in the face.

  “Hold tight to me, Sole,” I scream, desperate to reach him through his terror. Sole’s arms tighten around me, forcing my breath out.

  I have a stricken instance where I remember the rope is coiled around my left wrist. I grip the rope above it with my other hand a moment before the rope jerks to its end.

  There is a loud snap.

  Agony rips up my arm. I scream, fighting to stay conscious through the pain. Remember Sole is here, don’t faint. I try to shift my arm, but it has lost its power. The only thing holding us up is my right arm and the coils gripping my arm. Bile rises at the back of my throat.

  I swallow hard and look side to side.

  We won’t be able to swing to another shelf. I know I won’t be able to pull us up. I tilt my still swimming head back. The rest of the group is not visible past a rock jutting outwards from the underside of the rocky surface. We dangle in space, neither of us talking. My legs start to shake with the effort of holding onto Sole.

  I nearly lose my stomach when the rope jerks suddenly, but I realise in the next moment that we are moving upwards. The other delegates are pulling us up. I hold in screams from the pulling on my wrist, but am unable to stop a groan escaping. I try and pull upwards with my right side, to take some weight off the left arm, but I’m not strong enough with the weight of Sole’s heavy frame combined with mine. Black dots fill my vision every time the rope is heaved.

  We move up past the jutting rock. I hear a cheer as the delegates see us. Chin to my chest, my only focus is on not losing consciousness before we reach the top. I open my eyes and see Sole has his head back and is watching me with a look of complete terror.

  We have only ten more metres.” His voice shakes. I don’t know if he is trying to encourage me or if he is pleading with me to hang on.

  “What is a metre?” I gasp.

  “A metre is what you call a stride or pace,” he says.

  “Why are we talking about this?” I mutter, mainly to myself.

  He laughs a bit hysterically. “I don’t know.” He laughs some more. His hysteria sets off my own and I giggle a little, which sets him off again. We both laugh with our heads thrown back.

  We are still this way as we are pulled over the edge by a group of frantic delegates.

  “Watch…her shoulder…and wrist.” Sole gasps between aftershocks of laughter.

  Ignoring our lunacy, they pull me onto my back and Sole is hauled over my head. Rhone picks me up and moves me away from the ledge. My laughter dries as I look at my left wrist. I begin to feel my shoulder also, now that the pulling on my wrist has stopped. My wrist looks and feels exactly like a hand would if you attempted to pull it from the rest of the arm. The black spots begin again now that Sole’s hysterical laughter is not distracting me.

  Rhone moves to grab my arm and I shake my head, taking a deep breath through my nose.

  I slowly uncoil the rope, doubling over a little in pain as blood circulates down to my wrist. A small whimper escapes me. The arm appears burnt from the elbow down where the rope has rubbed off the skin. My wrist lies at a weird angle to the rest of my arm. My shoulder is not where it should be. Nausea bubbles in my stomach at the sight. My right arm seems alright, apart from a similar raw, burnt look on my palm from the rope being pulled through too quickly.

  “Rhone, have you ever put an arm back in before?” I ask.

  He shakes his head.

  I giggle and clamp down on it before it gets out of hand again. I think back to the bones Aquin has put back in for Olandon.

  “I think you pull the shoulder, and then twist it back into place. It has to be done before it swells. At least that’s what happened with my brother’s shoulder this one time,” I babble. Malir puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me into a lying position.

  “Just keep on going if I faint. I’ll see you later.”

  Rhone and Malir share a look. What am I saying? The pressure Malir has on my shoulders increases. Rhone looks at me, no apology in his eyes, and grabs my arm. The black spots join together and I welcome them with open arms.

  Chapter Fourteen

  My mother’s and Kedrick’s face swirl together as I fight to the surface. I open my eyes to complete blackness and a throbbing pain in my wrist. I’m in a cave. Someone must have carried me for the rest of the journey. I feel my wrist in the dark. Someone has fashioned a splint for it and my arm is in some kind of a sling. The shoulder is stiff, but not too painful now back in its rightful place. Or maybe the wrist is so bad I cannot feel it. Sleep is over for me.

  I take a breath of frigid air and my chest expands. My chest expanded? It is so shocking I forget my wrist for the moment. It feels like the first full breath I have taken since Kedrick’s death. Some of the weight crushing my chest is gone. But why? I take another lungful of cold air. It only takes me a moment to find why I have awoken this way. The whole time while on Oscala I had not really cared if I lived or died, if I fell or got lost. But some part of me had realised I wanted to survive while dangling at the end of a rope with Sole. I shift uncomfortably as I’m swamped with guilt. Am I allowed to feel this way? What would Kedrick think of me if he knew?

  The night drags on into morning and I sit in a stupor of pain. I’m so deeply engrossed in my trance, I do not notice as light starts to fill the cave until Malir comes in from outside. Seeing I am awake, he makes his way over, touching the other men on the shoulder to wake them.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks in his deep, steady voice.

  There are no Solati words for how I currently feel. I turn to my Bruma vocabulary.

  “I feel like fucking shit,” I say.

  There is a moment where Malir seems shocked, then he throws his head back and roars with laughter. Everyone in the cave is jolted awake at the sound. I jump a little myself, and hiss at the jolt through my wrist. Malir continues laughing, he even adds a slap to the knee.

  “What the hell star
ted that?” I hear Sanjay ask. I shrug.

  Regaining some control, Malir repeats my answer to the others. The cave explodes into noise as everyone joins in the laughter.

  I do not understand what is so funny, but the noise is hurting my head. I feel my way out of the cave, hearing Adnan try to hush them behind me as I do.

  I shiver a little in the fresh air and occupy myself by playing with my breath cloud. I touch the cold rocks to moisten my fingers and scrub at my face under my grimy veil.

  Feeling present for the first time this morning had prompted a discovery. I felt and probably smelt revolting. There were layers of smoke, sweat and dirt all over me. I wish I could soak in the springs. I put my hands underneath the back of the veil and untangle my hair as best as I can before braiding it again.

  They are still chuckling in the aftershocks of their laughter when I re-enter the cave.

  “What is so funny?” I demand.

  Roman is wiping tears from his eyes. “It is just funny to hear that language from you.”

  Sanjay adds, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say anything even slightly impolite before.” He erupts back into howls of laughter.

  I huff. “Kedrick taught them to me and I have been listening to what all of you say. If you don’t want me to say those words, you should not say them yourself.”

  “I hope you never stop!” Sanjay bursts out. They all howl again, obviously starved for some hilarity.

  I take some food from one of the supply packs and head outside again with a roll of my eyes. I lean back on the cold rock face, taking in the glaring white around me. We are so close to Glacium now. It is nice to see something other than darkness, but I’m lucky the veil protects my eyes. I have seen some of the delegates use the cloth we had for our mouth coverings to cover their own. I don’t know how the others stand it all day, though a part of me wishes I could see the Oscala with my veil off.

  The delegates have finally stopped laughing behind me. As an experiment, I try to imagine the words ‘I feel like fucking shit’ coming out of Olandon’s mouth. A surprised laugh bursts from my lips.

  Adnan looks over with a smile. Maybe it was a little funny.

  My fate on Glacium is now in the forefront of my mind. I cannot guess how King Jovan will react. A Bruma had tried to assassinate me, but had shot their own prince instead. Even if they had not been attempting to start a war by killing me, they had guaranteed one by killing Kedrick on Osolis and had then sealed the two world’s fate by taking me prisoner. I wonder who made the decision to take me captive. I think it had been Malir who had hit me over the head. Was it Malir who killed Kedrick? He would be hard to kill, maybe impossible with my veil on. There is also a twinge of reluctance at the thought of doing it. I realise the King will assume a Solati had done it. The only way to avoid war would be for the Bruma assassin to confess, or for the King to somehow forgive me. Even then, mother might fake offence and start a war anyway.

  I return to the cave and find Sole over at my sleeping spot, packing my gear. It is nice of him, I would have struggled to do it.

  “I will not forget what you have done,” he whispers to the uneven ground.

  Why is he saying it to the floor? He looks back over his shoulder, I follow his gaze to see Blaine watching us. Interesting. Sole quickly secures my pack on top of his own and moves away from me.

  We start climbing again. “I can’t believe you jumped off,” Sanjay says, shaking his head and swallowing audibly. “You’re insane.” I nod at him, distracted by my thoughts. Someone hits him.

  I try to look at Kedrick’s death from an outside perspective. If I were the King and Olandon had been killed, would I let the only witness live? I let out a slow breath. My odds of survival were very low. The People of Glacium will want retribution and I will serve as convenient justice.

  Stopping the disastrous downwards spiral of our worlds seems like an impossible task.

  My best strategy lay in presenting my worth to the King, in becoming a bargaining tool to use against my mother. Hopefully the delegates were not aware of just how much my mother loathed me. She had probably been smiling since my disappearance. She would already be training Olandon. I smile as I imagine my brother’s reaction. The smile falters. I hope my brothers and Aquin somehow know I’m alive.

  The whole morning I try to glean information from the delegates. All I’m told is that King Jovan will decide. Most of them seem surprised at my questions, probably because I have shown no interest in my fate until now. Maybe they honestly don’t know, but I am guessing they are reluctant to tell me I’m walking to my death.

  The day will never end.

  My arm throbs with every step and I know I’m not paying enough attention to where I’m placing my feet. I am exhausted and frustrated to be slowing down the group. The men do not complain. Instead they take turns to call breaks we would not usually have. Even the three men who usually ignore me call breaks and ask how I am. Something has changed between us with my jump to save Sole. I remember Kedrick saying worth on Glacium was determined by your actions.

  We get to the next cave after darkness has fallen.

  Sole lays out my sleeping gear, it must be his way of thanking me for saving his life, but it makes me a little uncomfortable.

  “Go to your spot, I will bring you food,” Roman says.

  I awaken halfway through the night again. I fell asleep before eating. Rhone eventually comes in from watch. He brings me some food. I try to refuse, my stomach does not feel very steady.

  “You need it. Eat now,” he says.

  I snatch the food with my good hand. He snorts. My annoyance amuses him.

  The others awaken and come to check on me. I suspect Blaine starts to regret he did not, with how the others treat him afterwards. Even Sole does not scramble after him as he tends to do.

  “You know, we could’ve lost our hostage yesterday,” Sanjay says with a grin. Rhone cuffs him over the head. But I laugh quietly, now more used to his black humour.

  “It would’ve been nice to have more food between us,” Roman says, making me smile again.

  We are so close to Glacium now. There is new energy in their movements and loud talk of home. Roman, the eldest and thinnest of the delegates, says he expects to arrive there in another two days.

  By mid-day, I’m swaying with exhaustion and fall asleep on Malir’s shoulder during lunch. I wake as he is picking me up to carry me while I sleep. He puts me down at my demand and I continue to walk. It is dangerous enough on Oscala without the added hazard of carrying someone. Being forced to rely on Malir and Rhone to carry me across the obstacles is bad enough.

  The next day is no better, I watch the ground in front of me, putting one foot in front of the other. The rocks are so slippery and I’m so focused on my feet, I walk right into Adnan who is stopped in front of me.

  “Veni,” I swear, hunching over my wrist and trying to breathe through the pain.

  “Sorry, sorry!” he says, fluttering his hands around my wrist uselessly.

  Tomi punches him in the shoulder. The Bruma hit each other a lot.

  “It is not your fault, I did not see you stop. I was watching my feet,” I say and turn to Malir as he speaks.

  “We’re stopping here for the night,” he says. The announcement is met with a loud groan.

  “We will reach Glacium by mid-day tomorrow,” he continues.

  Where there used to be three defined groups within the delegates, now there are only two. Everyone follows Malir now, except Blaine and Sole, and I have begun to suspect Sole would quickly change sides if he were able.

  I apologise to the delegates, knowing we could have reached Glacium today without my injury. Rhone snorts. My nose wrinkles at the disgusting sound. Sanjay tells me to shut up. The others mumble dishonest reassurances about how they do not mind the delay.

  I walk over to examine a bunch of pointed ice daggers hanging underneath a protruding ledge at the edge clearing. I touch one and it snaps off and
shatters by my foot. I don’t set up my blankets there.

  Sole spreads out my sleeping gear and I lay down straight away as has been my habit since breaking my wrist. My hopes of a good sleep are destroyed. I have never been so cold. I almost laugh as I recollect the cold the week before. I am sure it would seem almost warm now. I toss and turn for hours, shivering and teeth chattering, unable to warm myself. I’m in a fitful trance nowhere near sleep, when a body lies down on one side of me. Desperate for warmth, I shuffle towards the heat. Another body moves to my other side. Wedged between the warm bodies, I fall asleep at last.

  I reach up to scratch a fluttering disturbance on my veil and encounter something cold and wet. I can hear the delegates are up and eating the morning meal. I sit and feel my mouth drop open at the white flecks falling over the clearing. I reach up my good hand to catch one of the flecks and bring it to my face. It is like a lace flower, but made of ice.

  I laugh in delight and stand up to catch more. I push my feet into my boots and experiment, scrunching the white stuff on the ground, taking delight in the sound. I gather up a large handful of it and hold it out to the delegates.

  “What is this stuff?” I laugh, watching as flecks gather on top of their shoulders. There are a few chuckles at my reaction.

  “It is the frozen tears of sad children,” Sanjay says, turning his head away.

  Horrified, I stop, my hands falling to my sides, the substance tumbling from my loosened grip.

  The delegates laugh. A grinning Adnan launches at him, pushing him to the ground to stuff some of the white matter into his face. Malir shakes his head at the pair, a smile on his face.

  “It’s snow, Tatuma. It falls when the temperature gets very cold,” Roman explains.

  I glare at Sanjay, my good hand on my hip. I should have known better than to take his word for it I suppose, after hearing the tales he makes up when talking to Adnan each day.

  He raises his hands in surrender, snow all through his bright red hair which stands out like fire on white ash. It is one thing I like about how Bruma look. Solati tend to have brown and black hair, though our eyes are all different colours. Some of the delegates here have yellow hair and some have deep red or a light brown and I find myself wondering what other colours they have.