The Ice Fortress (Frozen World Book 2)

by Hannah Ross

  Chapter 10

  “That woman is bonkers,” Stan said brusquely on their flight back to AN-85.

  “Are you talking about Annette?” Scott asked.

  The pilot nodded. “She’s nuttier than extra crunchy peanut butter. But she’s got balls, I’ve got to give her that.”

  Scott smiled. “How does that one work?”

  Stan chuckled. “You know what I mean. That idea of hers, of raising and taming those monsters… it’s crazy, but you know what? She has perseverance, Dr. Geels has. She doesn’t stop halfway.”

  “Sometimes I wish she would.”

  When Scott got back to the valley, he was faced with the unpleasant duty of telling Tahan all that had occurred at McMurdo. The last thing he wanted was to add to her cares, but there was no choice. She frowned as she listened, then gasped, then covered her mouth.

  “They attacked? Actually attacked the station? But why?”

  Scott shrugged. “I wish we knew for sure. It seems they were trying to rescue the creature we had taken from here, the one that was already dead.”

  Tahan got up from her sitting cushion. “Come, Egan,” she told her son, “I’m taking you to visit Aunt Manari for a bit. We will need to bring this in front of the Council of Elders,” she added to Scott, lowering her voice. She deftly tied Niri to her back with the baby sling, and they set out.

  The weather was mild and pleasant that day, and the perpetual light of the summer season covered the valley with a rich, thick, bright green growth of mosses and grasses that swayed in the light breeze. The little waterfall not far from the village center, where the councils were always held, gushed merrily into its bed of stone, forming a stream that flowed in a serpentine path to the larger river on the edge of the settlement. The growth was even thicker and lusher on the banks of the fall and the stream, and the twittering of birds and scurrying of small mammals underlined the fullness and joy of life celebrated by all creatures. At such times, the Anai valley seemed the very image of paradise on earth, and it was easy to imagine it would be coveted by anyone who saw it, from flying reptiles to desperate Russians.

  “Sergey Pechersky and his lot, any news of them?” Scott asked Tahan as they waited for the elders to arrive. “Did they go ahead to look for the flying beasts?”

  “Yes, and Ne Tarveg with them as their guide.”

  “Did it take much work to get him to do that?”

  “He volunteered for the task.”

  “That is unlike him. Ne Tarveg would avoid all foreigners if he could.”

  “Yes, but in this case, he and these people have a… common goal.”

  “Which would be wiping out all of the flying beasts.”

  Tahan nodded. There was concern in her eyes. “Oh, Scott, I can’t get over the thought of you there, under attack of those vicious creatures… and all those poor people…”

  The elders, led by Ri Koer, approached and took their seats. “It is good to see you safely back, Arahak,” Ri Koer said. “But you look grave. What tidings do you bring?”

  Scott retold his story, to gasps of fear and astonishment. Every face looked grave when he finished. “I believe in what the legends of old say,” Ri Koer nodded solemnly. “The monsters, the scourge of sky and land, are a punishment from the Spirits for those who are unworthy… and they are also a test we can only hope to pass. Now that they have reached the dwellings of the foreigners, the people from beyond the sea are facing this test as well.”

  “What the foreigners choose to do about this threat is up to them, Elder,” Tahan said. “We have chosen our path already. But this attack is grave news for us. I did not expect these creatures to be so… so audacious.”

  “Their kind hates ours,” another of the elders said solemnly.

  “You are convinced they can hate, then? Animals feel fury, grudge, fear… but hatred? That is a thing for humans,” Scott pointed out.

  “If they were loyal enough to follow one of their pack in the hopes of rescuing it, they are clever enough to hate. Unfortunately.”

  “Look!” Tahan said, squinting into the distance. “There is a man, alone, coming up the slope from the river… he looks like Ne Tarveg! Can he be back already?”

  “He is alone,” someone remarked. “What happened to his companions?”

  A chill of apprehension went through the little group, and all remained silent as they waited for Ne Tarveg to approach. He came near soon enough, flushed and out of breath. He carried his sharpest spear in his hand, and a bow and a quiverful of arrows were slung over his back.

  “Greetings,” he said. “I am just back, and someone on the edge of the village told me there is a council meeting. I thought this might be a good time to bring my tidings.”

  “Take a seat, Ne Tarveg,” Ri Koer said. “You look as if you had walked long and quickly.”

  “I did. As soon as the foreigners and I split up, I set out for home.”

  “What happened to them, Ne Tarveg?” Tahan asked. “Are they…”

  “They are unhurt, if that is what you mean. And we found the place where the flying monsters live,” he added after an impressive pause, to gasps of wonder all around.

  “Did you?” Scott asked quickly. “Where is it?”

  “A good way off the bay. I will draw a map later for you all to see. There is a volcano that no longer erupts, a hollow mountain kept warm by the forces of the underground.”

  “Residual activity,” muttered Scott in English. “That could be risky.”

  “The creatures have set up a lair there. It is good enough for them, sheltered from wind and cold, but it won’t do for people. The foreigners were disappointed. They used one of their… their calling-things to summon a flying machine, and set out back to their shelters.”

  Scott then proceeded to tell the last part of the story, the one the elders had not heard yet: how the pterosaur female laid her eggs, and how Annette intended to hatch them and keep the young. The tale elicited noises of disbelief from all, and a short bark of derisive laughter from Ne Tarveg.

  “That woman is an even bigger fool than I thought,” he scoffed. “If she had any sense, she would smash those eggs before they could hatch. We don’t need any more monsters.”

  Annette Geels arrived in the valley a few days later, together with Chris. They were lightly equipped and clad in terrain gear. “How are things going, Annette?” Scott asked.

  “Oh, everything is looking good. We have transferred the eggs to an incubator, and are monitoring them hourly. Adam stayed behind to watch over them, and your friend Mr. Karhu has volunteered to help, too. I don’t want to leave them unattended for even half a day, given what a unique opportunity this is. If we botch it, we might never get another chance to raise Antarctosaurus from egg.”

  “What about the mother?”

  “We have doused her with tranquilizer, flew her by helicopter to the bay, and left her there. We took this opportunity to implant a surveillance chip, too, so now we can keep track of her movements within a certain range. We have seen her move away, so I presume she is fine.”

  “How long do you think it will take for the eggs to hatch?”

  “I can hardly even hazard a guess. With such a large, advanced species… it may be months. Or maybe a few weeks. We will scan the eggs in a week or so for signs of development, and maybe then we can have a better estimate.”

  Scott nodded. “And what have you come to do now? Look for more of these creatures?”

  “No, no. This time, we’ll focus on looking for remnants of the Antarctosaurus, and other ancient reptile species, here in the valley. It might give us some extremely valuable insight into their evolution. Do you happen to know where fossils and bones may be found?”

  “Locally? The Anai call the place the Old Lairs. There’s a passage leading off to the area. I’ll show it to you if you like.”

  “Thank you, Scott, that would be very helpful.”

  He took up some provisions, told Tahan where he is going, and trekke
d with Annette and Chris to the Old Lairs. “You might find the Cave of the Spirits interesting, too, but you’d need permission from the elders to go there,” he remarked.

  “The Cave of the Spirits? What is that?”

  “It holds some fascinating Anai wall drawings and carvings… and records of what you call the Antarctosaurus, among other things.”

  “I’d love to see that!” Annette said eagerly.

  “I imagine you would, but the place is sacred to the Anai. They aren’t keen on letting strangers get in there. Even Anders Lindholm had never visited the Cave of the Spirits. I saw it as a great honor when Tahan took me there for the first time.”

  Once Scott made sure that Annette and Chris had reached their destination and would easily find their way back to the village, he turned around and started for home. To his surprise and displeasure, as he neared the center of the settlement, he was met with a grisly sight – a row of freshly butchered, neatly cleaned carcasses of wara, the domestic waterfowl raised by the Anai. Most of the meat was stripped from the carcasses, with little more than the bones remaining, and the bony parts were strung on a long rope in a blood-dripping garland. A swarm of insects buzzed all around.

  “What is that?” he asked a passing man. It was very unlike the Anai to waste any food, even bones. Bony parts of the fowl were always used to make broth, and once cooked, were burned.

  “You might want to ask Ne Tarveg. It was his idea.”

  “What a stench!” Scott heard a voice behind him. He spun around and saw Omrek, his brother-in-law, wrinkling his nose. “Why would Ne Tarveg do something like that? The smell of blood is enough to draw a flock of flying lizards to the valley.”

  “That’s what I had in mind, Ri Omrek.” Ne Tarveg himself strode toward them, swinging his spear and wearing a satisfied look on his face.

  “What do you mean, that’s what you had in mind?” Scott felt his annoyance rising. “You want the beasts to come to the village?”

  “Yes. I want to bait them, and I want them to come, because the lads and I are prepared to meet them,” Ne Tarveg fingered the sharp point of his spear.

  “You aren’t thinking straight,” Omrek said. “Take these things off, Tarveg. They are disgusting.” He waved a hand around to dispel the cloud of insects.

  “Don’t you see? If it works, it will be much better for us than being under an unexpected attack again.”

  “I will speak to Tahan about this,” Scott said. “We all appreciate your efforts, Ne Tarveg, but you’re taking this one step too far. You are sleep deprived. Let me replace you on guard duty and get some rest.”

  Ne Tarveg shook his head, however. “I am not tired. I made sure to get plenty of sleep earlier. Now I am waiting.”

  “I hope you’ll have to wait for a long, long time,” Scott said. “I’m going home. See you later, Omrek.”

  At home, it was unusually quiet. Both children were sound asleep – sleeping patterns were often fluid with the Anai, who did not experience the daily interplay of light and darkness like most people on earth. During the summer, Egan often played and ran about until his eyelids drooped with exhaustion.

  Tahan was busy spinning a long and thin thread from the grass she had collected, pressed and dried. Scott was always impressed by the nimbleness of her fingers, which moved in deft and precise strokes. It took an incredible amount of work to prepare the grass fibers, weave them into fabric and make a piece of clothing, compared to the relatively straightforward process of working on a sealskin, but Tahan was prepared to put in the effort, because no clothing was cooler, handsomer, more comfortable, or more pleasing to the touch than what was made from properly prepared grass fibers of the Anai valley.

  When she saw him, she left off her work, got up, and went into his arms.

  “Where have you left Annette Geels?”

  “At the Old Lairs. She is searching for traces of the beasts who dwelt in the valley before the First Anai came.”

  Tahan shrugged. “If she is prepared to spend all that time doing this… are you hungry, Scott? There is some stew left.”

  “I will eat in a bit. But there’s something I want to tell you…” Scott proceeded to the tale of Ne Tarveg’s bizarre act. “Did you know he is doing that?”

  Tahan bit her lip and frowned. “No. That was entirely his idea. He did not ask my opinion.”

  “I’m not that afraid that the bait will actually work… it sounds like a remote possibility… but the whole thing is disgusting. Ne Tarveg is…” Scott searched for the proper word in Anai, “… irrational.”

  “Yes, he is. He hasn’t been the same since what happened to… to his father. He is driven by hate. And he desires revenge. I do not. I only want safety for us.”

  “We will have safety,” Scott promised, though to be honest, he did not know how this was to be accomplished. He held her tight. “Let us not worry too much, my love. What good would that do?” He kissed her, relishing the quiet, the harmony, the peace he always experienced in his little home in the Anai Valley. The shiny house he had once bought together with poor Brianna, its tiled floors and spotless bathrooms and fake fireplace, seemed like a long-gone, hazy dream.

  After their loving, they remained in the furs for a long time, not speaking, just relishing the tranquility. Behind the partition, Egan stirred and muttered in his sleep. Tahan smiled into Scott’s shoulder. “We had better put our clothes on,” she suggested quietly.

  “What about Ne Tarveg?” Scott asked, bringing them both back to reality. “Do you care to tell him you disapprove of his… his strange plan?”

  “Oh, it’s not worthwhile to confront him over this. The smell will force him to take the disgusting things off and bury them. And it’s not as though it could work.”

  But Tahan was wrong.

  An hour or so later, a sharp alarm whistle sounded, then another, and another. Scott and Tahan, who were by that time sharing a meal around the burning brazier, bolted up. Egan, a frightened look in his eyes, held on to his mother’s hand. Niri continued to coo and laugh happily on the fur rug, oblivious of the danger.

  “You stay inside,” Scott told his wife. “Stay with the children, Tahan. It will be fine.” He snatched up his bow and spear, and despite his ineptitude with the Anai weapons, felt a little less vulnerable. Then he dashed outside, where a group of fully prepared warriors was already skirting the central area of the settlement. Several flying forms were silhouetted against the sky, attracted by the grisly bait after all.

  “Don’t shoot until I give the order!” Ne Tarveg called out. “And keep within reach of shelters! Don’t let them pick you off!”

  The village was prepared for battle. The women and children were all inside, as were the elderly. No man of those who were out was unarmed. This was a well-planned ambush.

  “Good,” Ne Tarveg said in a quiet voice. “Now, don’t startle them, and don’t waste arrows. Wait for them to come down…”

  The warriors waited, bows taut, spears ready. Then, a panicky, angry voice pierced the silence:

  “What are you doing? No! Stop!”

  Annette and Chris came running forward, evidently finished with their business at the Old Lairs. Ne Tarveg spun around and made an impatient sound.

  “Get shelter, stupid woman, now! You want die?”

  Annette took in the row of grisly carcasses and understood at once.

  “You baited them! You did this on purpose! This isn’t fair!”

  “I tell you, go, you fool!”

  “Annette, it’s better if you take cover right now,” Scott hastened to her. “Come, I’ll show you and Chris where you can –“

  With a vicious shriek, two of the creatures swooped down upon Annette and Chris, probably attracted by their bright orange parkas. Chris screamed, fell down, and rolled underneath one of the makeshift shelters Ne Tarveg and his warriors had constructed. Annette, who was not so quick, froze, shell-shocked, and for one horrible moment, Scott was sure that was the end of her – but
then, Ne Tarveg leaped between her and the vicious, long-jawed mouth of the giant reptile.

  “Now!” he boomed, hurling his spear at the creature’s eye, but missing. He drew blood, and the creature hissed in agony. At that very moment, the twang of many arrows sounded through the air as the bowmen fired. The arrows hit the creature’s flank, rending it even more furious, and one long-clawed paw pinned Ne Tarveg down to the ground. Undeterred, with his last bit of remaining strength, the warrior hurled his battle-axe straight at the roof of the creature’s open mouth. A torrent of blood gushed forth, drenching him and Annette. Sick with terror, Scott threw his spear with all his might, wishing to kill for the first time in his life. The spear must have hit a major blood vessel in the creature’s neck, because even more blood spurted out, and the pterosaur let out a howl of agony and spun around. More spears and arrows flew and, tottering, it gathered its strength and took off into the air again.

  “Tarveg!” Scott yelled, rushing to the fallen man. With an effort, Ne Tarveg raised himself on his elbows, spitting out mud and blood.

  “I’m – I’m fine. I think,” he muttered. Most of the blood covering him belonged to the pterosaur, but there were long, nasty-looking gashes on his arms and chest where the creature’s claws had pinned him down. A dozen more people rushed forward, supporting Ne Tarveg, until he stood on his feet, swaying. Annette got up as well. She was unhurt, but trembled all over, and her jaw was rigid with shock.

  Scott spared a brief glance skyward. The small group of Antarctosaurus was flying away, the injured one curiously supported by two of its flock-mates – they flew beneath it, allowing it to rest part of its weight on their long necks. This resolved any final doubts Scott might have had about the intelligence of these creatures. Mere animals would not be capable of this kind of behavior.

  Annette staggered, and he caught her by the elbow to steady her. “You all right?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  Next to them, Ne Tarveg was seated on a boulder, being tended to by at least half a dozen people. Someone brought a bucket full of warm water and was washing him off with a soft, absorbent bit of skin. Ri Koer has brought a small sealskin container of some sharp-smelling solution, and was dabbing at his wounds. It probably stung, since Ne Tarveg bit his lower lip and grunted in discomfort.