The Ice Gate of Spyre

by Allan Jones

  Wingnut was looking from face to face as they spoke. “I take you to Ice Gate in very soon time,” he said. “But what crown do you mean? I can get you a crown—very cheap!”

  “Not the one we’re looking for, you can’t,” Esmeralda said, patting him on the back. “Don’t worry about it. Just get us up there.”

  Wingnut blinked at her a few times, then turned and went trotting off through the archway and into the grounds of the monastery.

  It was clear right from the start that they were in a special kind of place. Trundle could feel the peacefulness of the monastery enveloping him, as though the very walls dreamed tranquil dreams.

  “This is the Scarlet Gate of Inquiry,” Wingnut informed them in a low, reverent voice as they passed a carved, arched doorway to one side. They came next into a wide green courtyard. “And this the Reflective Cloister. Hush—very quiet place where lamas come to ponder on deep stuff.”

  And there, at last, they got their first sight of the legendary lamas of Spyre. They were actual llamas, all of them dressed in heavy satin robes of midnight blue, and most of them wearing tall curved hats on their heads. They sat or walked slowly about the cloisters, their heads bowed in thought, their faces wise and dignified and benevolent.

  The four pilgrims followed their guide on tiptoe, not wishing to disturb the pious creatures. Wingnut led them on through courts and open pathways, across lawns and through blooming gardens and under white arches, up stairways and passageways. And all about them, the serene llamas sat or stood or paced the flagstones, all silent, all very obviously thinking profound thoughts.

  “This is very interesting,” Wingnut explained, stopping under the shadow of a long white wall. “This is the Seat of the Absent Oracle.” He pointed to a niche cut in the wall. It contained a simple stone chair with a purple cushion on it. Trundle could see at a glance that the threadbare cushion had been there for some time.

  “He’s been absent a very long time, that oracle,” said Wingnut, nodding. “About time he turn up again!” He looked at them. “By the way,” he said. “I forgot to say—this special tour includes free fortune-telling from mysterious and ancient Badger Blocks. You ever hear of Badger Blocks? They are very special. Only lamas can interpret their prophecies.”

  “We know all about Badger Blocks, thanks,” said Esmeralda. “And trust me, it isn’t only these fellows who know how to use them!” She eyed him keenly. “Now then—what about the Ice Gate?”

  “That’s the next stop,” Wingnut said brightly. “One long staircase, and we’re right there!”

  “Where there’s a will, there’s an anchovy,” declared Ishmael. “Cast off, my hearty. Ishmael’s a-willing!”

  Wingnut gazed admiringly at the old hare for a moment, then set off again.

  The path to the Ice Gate turned out to be a very long staircase indeed. It wound up the mountainside, climbing over walls and around towers and up steep slopes until pretty much the whole of the extensive monastery complex was spread out below them. As they climbed, Trundle noticed that the air was gradually becoming chillier and chillier. He tucked his paws into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. They were getting closer to the snow.

  “There you will see Emerald Prophecy Courtyard,” Wingnut said, turning and pointing back down to the lower parts of the sprawling monastery. “They’re working on your fortune-telling right now!”

  They looked down. Sure enough, in a wide courtyard striped by mowed grass, they saw a whole group of llamas dressed up in four-sided oblong costumes with pictures painted on each side. They were obviously playing the parts of living Badger Blocks!

  As they watched, a gong rang out and the Badger Block llamas suddenly took off in all directions. They raced around and around the courtyard, darting this way and that until Trundle felt quite dizzy from watching them. Then a new llama in ultramarine lama robes strode out, wielding a hooked stick.

  He moved among the racing animals, swiping randomly at their feet. Most leaped over the stick, but every now and then one was tripped up and went rolling over and over in the grass. When four llamas had been brought down, the gong sounded again and the rest ran to the sides of the courtyard, while the lama with the stick walked around the fallen players, writing something down on a scroll.

  “Amazing,” breathed Esmeralda. “What a brilliant way to do a reading.”

  “Time to go,” said Wingnut, hopping from foot to foot and blowing into his hands. “It’s too nippy for long hangings about!”

  Up they went. And then up some more. It wasn’t long before Trundle could see his breath as they climbed. There was a powdering of snow on the steps now, and the air nipped with icy teeth at ears and tails and fingers and toes.

  But at last they came to the top.

  “This is Enlightenment Platform of the astonishing Ice Gate!” announced Wingnut, stepping out onto a large wooden platform that jutted on solid wooden posts above the lower snow slopes. The white mountain fairly filled the sky now—huge and strange and enigmatic, wreathed in mists and with its head in cloud.

  “Harpoons and hornpipes!” exclaimed Ishmael, staring up at the mountain. “You may fire when ready, Mr. Goosepaste! My endives are at your command!”

  “What a brain this man got!” marveled Wingnut, rubbing his paws together and gazing spellbound at Ishmael. Then he sighed and padded over to a large brass telescope set atop a post in the middle of the platform. “From here you can see the Ice Gate really good,” he said. “Who wants first look?”

  “You mean, this is it?” asked Esmeralda. “You’re not going to take us right up to the Ice Gate itself?”

  Wingnut’s eyes bulged. “Not jolly likely!” he exclaimed. “Very dangerous to go any higher. All snow from here on up. No paths. Just plenty of big snow snakes that eat you in one gulp.” He flapped his arms, shivering with the cold. “But you can see the Ice Gate fine from here, no problem.”

  “We don’t want to look at it,” said Jack. “We want to go through it!”

  “Noooo!” Wingnut stared at them in astonishment. “You’re making big joke on Wingnut. No one goes through the Ice Gate.” He spread his arms to their fullest extent. “Snakes, I tell you! Big snakes, no fooling! You don’t want to be eaten! Not much fun, trust me!”

  “We’ve handled worse than snakes,” Esmeralda said nonchalantly.

  “All the same, we ought to take a look at them,” Trundle said uncertainly as he marched over to the telescope. If the snow snakes were as big as Wingnut was suggesting, then they’d need a plan of attack.

  The telescope was fixed in position, and the moment Trundle looked through it, the Ice Gate leaped up to his eye, so huge and clear and shiny that it quite took him by surprise. The telescope was aimed at a deep, narrow ravine cut into the mountainside. Its sides reared up sharp and hard, capped with snow and hung with massive icicles. Trundle couldn’t see where the ravine led; a thick mist coiled between the walls, obscuring the view. But it was easy to spot the remnants of the Ice Gate itself. Fragments of it remained, melted to little nubs and stalagmites of clear ice between the lower jaws of the ravine. And it was so close!

  Trundle removed his eye from the telescope, and suddenly the Ice Gate wasn’t close at all. It was a fair way off, in fact; a good trek up the smooth sheer face of the snow-clad mountain.

  He looked at the others. “Anyone got any bright ideas?” he asked.

  “We nip over the side of this platform and get ourselves up there, pronto,” suggested Esmeralda. “It’s not so very far, and even if there are any giant snakes about, surely we can outwit a bunch of overgrown worms!”

  Just then a series of high trumpet calls sounded from the monastery below.

  “That’s well odd,” said Wingnut, running to the top of the stairs. “That’s the alarm call! Something’s up!” He stared down, his breath clouding and his arms wrapped around himself for warmth. “Ah, I see signal flags now.”

  Trundle came and looked over his shoulder. Way down in the Emeral
d Prophecy Courtyard, llamas were waving a series of red and yellow pennants in a way that he assumed must mean something.

  Wingnut translated the signals slowly aloud. “Party … of … four … traveling … with … guide … Wingnut … Flange …” He broke off, clearly startled. “Hey, that’s me! What did I do wrong?”

  “Tell us the rest of it,” said Esmeralda, standing now at his side.

  “Too right I will!” declared Wingnut, peering down. “It says … Party of four traveling with guide Wingnut Flange … to be nabbed and taken to high lama without delay. Have a nice day. End of message.” He turned to them, his eyes like saucers. “Who are you?” he said crossly. “I’ve never been in trouble with high lama before. You’re bad news, and after all I do for you!”

  “I think I know what’s happened,” said Esmeralda. “It’s that darned free Badger Block prophecy. It’s told them what we’re here for—and I don’t think they like it!”

  “And here they come,” said Jack. “Dozens of them!”

  He was right. Even as they stared down, they saw a whole posse of lamas streaming up the stairs toward them, their robes billowing as they ran.

  “Oh, excellent,” groaned Esmeralda. “All this way only to be thwarted by a bunch of monks.”

  “Not if we run for it!” said Trundle. “We still have time to escape if we jump off the platform and head up the mountain.”

  “Yes, you’re right!” cried Jack. “Especially if they’re afraid of the snakes. Sword out, Trundle! Let’s go.”

  He ran for the far side of the platform. For a second, Trundle saw his leaping shape silhouetted against the snow, and then he was gone. Grabbing Ishmael, Trundle followed, Esmeralda close behind.

  A catch of the breath, a moment’s hesitation on the brink of the platform, and then Trundle was in the air and the snowbanks of the mountain were rushing up to meet him. He plunged up to his knees in crisp, crunchy snow. Jack was already ahead of him, floundering upward, leaving a deep trough in his wake.

  “Ha!” whooped Esmeralda. “That’s outfoxed ’em! Come on, Trun—we’re almost there!”

  The four of them waded up the mountain, keeping close together and helping one another out when the drifts got especially deep. Trundle could hear shouting from the platform, but he didn’t waste any time looking around. His sword was out and ready, and he was determined to get to the Ice Gate, no matter what. They were halfway to the ravine already; one last effort and they would be up there, despite the cold and the wet and the hard battle through deep snow.

  “Nothing can stop us now,” panted Esmeralda. “Crown of Ice, here we come!”

  Trundle felt a curious rumbling under his feet. Then he saw a long bulge lifting itself up in the snow, running quickly in their direction, as if something huge was tunneling toward them under the surface.

  With startling suddenness, the snow ahead of them erupted, knocking them all off their feet. A frightful spiky, horned head emerged on the end of a long, sinuous, white-pelted neck. Yellow eyes gleamed and wide red jaws opened. A cruel and icy voice boomed out.

  “Aha!” roared the giant snow snake. “Luncheon!”

  “Get behind me!” Trundle yelled to the others as he advanced bravely on the towering monster with his sword at the ready. “Listen up, snake!” he hollered, his knees knocking as he stared up at the hideous creature. “I think you ought to know we’re on a special quest, and that we’ve got the Fates on our side. So maybe you’d like to think twice about trying to eat us!”

  “Thanks for the warning,” roared the gigantic snow snake. “But I think I’ll scarf you down anyway, if it’s all the same to you!”

  “Big mistake, snake!” hollered Esmeralda. “Go get him, Trundle!”

  “Poke him in the eye!” yelled Jack, swinging his fists.

  “Curse his cutlets!” shouted Ishmael. “Auctions shriek louder than birds!”

  Trundle glanced unhappily at them. His only real hope had been to bluff the snake into leaving them alone. The looming great thing must be fifty feet long! Lawks! Its teeth were longer than Trundle’s sword! He let out a yelp as the huge head of the monster came hurtling down toward him, jaws wide and eyes blazing.

  At the same moment, half a dozen more snow snakes appeared on the scene, their ferocious heads shooting up from the snowfields all around them, their roars making the air shiver. Any one of them was big enough to swallow the four friends whole. They were utterly surrounded and really rather doomed.

  Trundle winced as the snow snake’s head descended, its jaws gaping. He braced himself, holding the sword above his head in both hands. Closing his eyes, he offered a quick prayer to the Fates, wondering bleakly what life would be like inside the stomach of a gigantic snake.

  But then something quite extraordinary happened.

  Through the roaring of the snow snakes, he heard a series of high-pitched whoops and calls that seemed to be coming from farther down the mountain. And then, just a few seconds later, there were whizzing and thudding noises all around him, and he was suddenly surrounded by flying figures and yelling voices.

  He stared around in disbelief.

  It was the llama lamas coming to their rescue! Trundle had never seen anything like it! They came leaping and bounding through the snow like rubber balls, springing up to plant a hoof on a snow snake’s snout, then bouncing off, turning somersaults in the air, ready and eager to launch an attack on the next one.

  “Weeeyaaah!” yelled one llama, landing lightly on the head of the snow snake threatening Trundle. He crouched and raised one hoof above his head. “Bungi! Bungi!” the llama shrieked, bringing his hoof down between the snow snake’s eyes.

  The stricken snake toppled forward so abruptly that Trundle had to leap aside so as not to get squashed underneath.

  The llama jumped on high, performing a nifty head-over-heels in midair and coming down on one knee right in front of Trundle. He gave a dashing grin as he rose to his feet.

  “That was Crouching Tiger to Leaping Mantis,” he said, bowing to Trundle. “Textbook example of Professor Yip’s Third Stratagem!”

  “Oh! Really?” Trundle gasped. “I thought you were thinkers, not fighters.”

  “We’re both!” exclaimed the lama. “Philosophy and fisticuffs. Good for mind and body!”

  The fight was going very well for the monks. Trundle could see that the bewildered snow snakes were getting a severe beating. Esmeralda and Jack cheered on the leaping llamas as, one by one, the snow snakes were brought down or sent packing, slithering up the mountain, weeping and wailing and dragging their bruised tails behind them. Ishmael was turning cartwheels in the snow, cheering at the top of his cracked old voice.

  “Ow!” groaned a loud voice. Trundle’s snow snake opened an angry eye. “That hurt!” it roared. “You’ll pay for that, you meddling monk!”

  The llama spun around, extending one foreleg toward the slowly rising snake.

  “Begone, foul fiend,” warned the llama. “Flee while you still can, else I will apply the deadly force of the Quivering Hoof!”

  The snake glared down at him for a few moments, as though considering its options. Then, with a mighty snort of rage, it turned and sped off up the mountain, sending up great sheets of snow in its wake.

  “The Quivering Hoof, eh?” chortled Esmeralda, helping to dig Trundle out of the avalanche the departing snake had set off. “I’d like to learn that one.”

  “A difficult technique to master without hooves,” remarked the llama. He eyed Esmeralda and Trundle sternly. “But to more serious matters.”

  Now that the last of the snakes had been dispatched, the rest of the llamas formed a circle, herding Ishmael and Jack in to stand alongside Trundle and Esmeralda. They folded their forehooves into the long sleeves of their robes and stood looking at the four adventurers with grave and solemn expressions on their long faces.

  “We’re in trouble with the high lama, then?” said Esmeralda.

  “Trouble?” said the first lla
ma. “Not at all! He wishes to speak with you and share with you the findings of the Badger Block reading.”

  “You mean about the crown?” asked Trundle. “We can explain that.”

  The llama shook his head. “The Badger Blocks have foretold that one of your number is the Absent Oracle, for whom we have waited time out of mind!”

  “Is that a fact?” said Esmeralda, sounding surprised and relieved. “Well, I’m a Roamany princess,” she continued. “I know how to use the Badger Blocks and I can do magic and stuff. So I imagine I must be the Absent Oracle you’ve all been waiting for.” She lifted a wary eyebrow. “Um … is that a good thing to be?”

  “It is a most wonderful thing to be,” declared the llama.

  “Good, then,” said Esmeralda. “And as I’m this Absent Oracle of yours, I imagine you won’t mind me and my pals borrowing the Crown of Ice.” She pointed up to the ravine. “I take it we’ll find it up there?”

  “The Crown of Ice is a most sacred artifact,” said the llama. “The blessed Ramalama himself placed it there for safekeeping.”

  “Yes, we know,” said Jack. “But we’re on a bit of a quest, you see—and we really need that crown.”

  “Wait a moment!” said the llama. He beckoned to his companions, and the whole group of them went into a huddle together.

  “Er, where’s Ishmael going?” asked Trundle. While the llamas were busy conferring, the old hare had gone skipping up through the snow, heading for the ravine.

  “Get after him!” yelled Esmeralda. “Who knows what he’s capable of doing?”

  They chased after him, snow flying as they went. Ishmael made it all the way to the mouth of the ravine before Jack finally got close enough to grab him. But his cold fingers couldn’t do more than catch Ishmael’s foot for a moment, tripping the hare so he went bowling off through the melted Ice Gate, all arms and legs and revolving ears. There was a thud and a crack. Ishmael sat up, rubbing his head and looking even less with it than usual.