by Shannon Hale
Once outside, she released Uraza.
“I know it’s cold,” Abeke whispered. “But I need your added stealth. Help me find Suka?”
Uraza shivered, whisking her tail back and forth several times. Abeke led her to a small pile of seal meat she’d saved in the snow. Uraza grabbed it with her sharp teeth, and in three quick movements swallowed it all. She licked Abeke, sniffed the air, and padded out of the village.
A light snow was falling over Arctica; flakes as tiny as pinpricks twirled out of the way of Abeke’s breath. With Uraza active, her whole body felt tight, agile, light as snow. When her boot stepped on the thin, fresh layer on the ice, the snow made no sound.
Even if it had, the Ardu had seemed especially drowsy after all that feasting. She suspected they’d sleep well tonight.
As soon as the ice huts were behind them, Uraza and Abeke ran. Through the clouds, the moon offered a dim blue glow. Abeke kept her gaze sharp, but Uraza noticed something before she did. The leopard slowed to a loping gait. Abeke followed.
An ice hole — but not like the breath holes they’d found earlier. There was no water beneath the ice here. This hole seemed deep and empty. As she crouched beside it, Abeke could see what looked like stairs cut into the ice, going down.
Abeke held her breath to listen and realized someone had followed her. She could hear the occasional crack of ice behind her, the hush as the soft layer of snow atop the ice was pressed by a small boot. Uraza sniffed the air, but didn’t seem bothered. Someone Abeke knew, then. But if it was one of the group, why follow her in secret? Why not simply catch up and ask what she was doing?
Abeke’s stomach hardened as she realized the answer — it was someone who didn’t trust her, who wanted to spy on her. Someone who suspected her of being the enemy.
Abeke wondered what to do. Hide, and then jump out? No, she didn’t want any unpleasant confrontation. She just wanted to find Suka’s talisman, so they could all get out of this freezing-cold nightmare. Uraza pressed against her leg, her shivering body a silent plea.
So Abeke stood and turned around, whispering into the dark, “Meilin, is that you?”
There was no response, but after a few moments Meilin came forward out of the blue darkness. Usually Meilin stood with chin high, eyes challenging. Now her face tilted down and she didn’t meet Abeke’s eyes. Abeke pretended not to notice her embarrassment.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. “I suspected something was down here — hopefully Suka. Shall we look together?”
Abeke started down the steps. She tensed, waiting for Meilin to confront her, accuse her. When Meilin just wordlessly followed behind, Abeke finally exhaled.
The stairs kept going down. Above was darkness. Below was darkness. But she followed Uraza, who seemed confident that there was a way forward, not just a drop into nothing. The heels of Abeke’s boots couldn’t find purchase. She stepped lightly on her toes, her thighs aching as her feet tried to grip the treacherous ice. And then with a slip and a swoosh she was horizontal, her feet flying out from beneath her. She hit the icy stairs and began to roll, striking down against one after another, darkness pulling her down, no sense of how long she would fall, no idea where she would land.
She slammed into a warm, furry body. She seized Uraza around her neck and heard the leopard’s claws squeaking as she dug into the ice. But Abeke’s fall stopped. She kept gripping Uraza’s thick fur, steadying herself as she got back on her feet and still clung as they eased down the remainder of the stairs into a pale-lit corridor.
“Meilin,” Abeke whispered up the dark stairs. “Be careful, I —”
Meilin came into view, sliding down the icy stairs on her backside. Her chin was up as if daring Abeke to mock her.
Abeke let the corner of her mouth rise a little. Meilin’s smile twitched in response.
They tiptoed through a narrow ice tunnel. It opened up, and both Abeke and Meilin gasped.
A long and narrow fissure had once cracked the ice, creating a huge underground canyon so long Abeke couldn’t see its end. A thin layer of ice created a roof over it, like the kind that had concealed the crevasses of the tundra. The moon bled pale light through it, lightly illuminating the space with blue and silver.
“The Ice City,” Meilin whispered. “It’s underground.”
Abeke nodded. She didn’t dare make a sound. Though she couldn’t see anyone, Uraza was sniffing the air in the way she did when sensing people. A lot of people.
First Abeke noticed that it felt warmer down here, though perhaps that was just protection from the cold Arctican breezes. Second she realized how quiet it was. All that ice muffled noises. Her own heartbeat seemed loud compared to the stillness around her filling her ears, insistent as the Ardu drums. Only the occasional crinkling and cracking of ice stirred the air, as ice never seemed completely at rest.
She left the tunnel and entered the Ice City.
The rift was much larger than the crevasses Meilin and Rollan had fallen into on their journey. This rift had cut a long, deep section of solid ice in two. Carved into each side of the ice walls was a city. Abeke walked down the narrow sidewalk of one side of the rift. Like apartments in a city tenement, room after room had been cut into the cliff. There were no straight edges. Everything was in arches and curves. Doorways were draped with hides. Abeke peered through a thinner layer of clear ice that served as a window. The inside of the room looked like a small home, with a table and chairs carved from ice and a great chunk for an ice bed. It was empty. Many were empty, but in some homes, people slept on the beds, wrapped with caribou hides.
“How is it glowing?” Meilin whispered.
Abeke shrugged. It should be dark down below, but a twilight silver graced every surface. Somehow the builders must have known how to best carve the ice so that it soaked up and reflected the little moon- and starlight that trickled down.
Every piece of ice was carved — the ground bore the carvings of fine cobblestones, the great icicles hanging down were etched with intricate patterns. The front walls of the homes bore faces of women and children, of great warriors and hunters, of Arctican animals. The walls were frozen tapestries, the blocks of ice magnificent sculptures. Hundreds of years of carving showed everywhere Abeke looked.
Ice bridges spanned the crevasse. Abeke and Meilin crossed over, the arched bridge creaking quietly beneath their boots. In the opposite side they found more houses and structures carved into the ice walls and frozen art in abundance. What’s more, they found stairs leading down.
Deeper seemed safer, and surely that’s where Suka would be. So they descended and discovered another story of the Ice City, more houses and structures and art. More stairs and yet another story, and another, so that it seemed there would be no end.
Deeper they descended. The air seemed warmer still, though Abeke wondered if she was imagining it. Then the ice ended. And instead of ice, the rest of the city was carved from rock. No ice tapestries here, no sculptures, just walkways and stairs cut out of dark brown stone. They were so deep, Abeke wondered if they were in the center of the world. She felt pressure swelling inside her ears.
Deeper into the rock city, the air was definitely warmer. Uraza panted happily. Abeke glanced at Meilin to see if she would release Jhi now that she wouldn’t suffer from the cold. Meilin lifted one eyebrow, perhaps guessing her thoughts. Jhi remained a mark on Meilin’s arm.
Abeke and Meilin took off their coats and gloves, carrying the huge bundles under their arms. Torches lit the darker space, oil-soaked fur on bones crackling with fire. Finally they reached the bottom. They found pools of water, warm air stirring above it, and Abeke imagined how heavenly it would feel to bathe in such water. Surely the inhabitants of the Ice City used this lower level to wash, to drink and cook and thaw out from the harsh Arctican climate. If she had bonded with a snow leopard instead of Uraza, she could imagine finding t
his place a paradise.
“Suka is supposed to be frozen in ice,” Meilin whispered.
Abeke nodded agreement. They wouldn’t find Suka down here. She pointed back up.
So they climbed stairs till Abeke’s legs shook, and she wondered if before Uraza she would have had the strength to climb all night long. But even without whatever aid Jhi offered her, Meilin didn’t slow. She’d always been tough, but since her father’s death, Meilin seemed to be pure, quivering energy.
At the first ice story, they took to the walkways and continued forward, the long narrow rift extending for perhaps a mile. Uraza’s ears pricked up and she stopped suddenly, Abeke and Meilin halting behind her. Abeke could hear it — people. A mutter, a rustle. A few sleeping people turning over in their sleep. But they’d passed hundreds of apartments. Every Ardu living in icy Arctica had a spirit animal. If Meilin and Abeke were discovered, if the city woke and attacked the intruders, Abeke didn’t think they’d have a chance.
But the noise quieted, and Uraza continued on.
At last they reached the end of the rift and were faced with the facade of an enormous ice building.
“A palace,” Meilin whispered.
“The Ice Palace,” said Abeke.
The exterior of the palace was thick, the ice a deep greenish white, except for the windows, which were layered with thin, transparent glasslike ice. The structure rose many stories high, supported by thick ice pillars carved with twining, frosty vines, topped with a triangular roof in a brilliant pure white.
There was no door in the doorway. They entered.
A great hall greeted them, tiles carved in the floor, delicate pillars holding the roof, a grand staircase with a huge chandelier of ice hanging above it all. Abeke knew she would never have time to explore each room, examine all the carved artwork in the walls, the details in each pillar and frozen furniture. No time to explore, because they had already found what they’d sought.
In the center of the great hall waited the polar bear.
SUKA DID NOT MOVE. DID NOT BLINK. DID NOT ROAR. With held breath and pounding heart, it took Meilin several seconds to realize the bear was sealed inside a perfectly clear block of ice.
She walked around the huge block. It was the size of a barn. She focused on the ice itself, its marvelous clear color, how smooth its surface was, as if it’d been polished by water. Fear nudged her heart, and she admitted to herself that she was avoiding looking fully at the polar bear.
I am my father’s daughter, she thought. I do not fear.
Though thick, the ice was as clear as glass. She steadied her breathing and examined one bear paw, the strands of white fur caught as if in a breeze, the five curved black claws, each longer than Meilin’s entire hand. Meilin braced herself and looked up.
Suka had been upright when frozen, standing on her back legs, her front legs lifted, in welcome or defiance Meilin couldn’t tell. She bent her neck back, trying to see Suka’s head.
“Up here,” Abeke whispered.
Abeke was standing at the top of the stairway. Meilin followed, counting the stairs as she climbed: thirty-five. On the landing of the second story, they stood right at eye level with Suka. She seemed to be staring at them, her black eyes open, though so still. Her mouth was slightly gaping, and Meilin could see her long, yellow teeth.
Meilin calculated that five people standing on each other’s shoulders would be about the same height as Suka. Though not as wide. Or heavy. Or as clawed or toothy or deadly.
Was it wise to wake such a beast?
“Look,” Abeke whispered, her voice full of awe.
Meilin saw. Tied with a cord to Suka’s left paw was a blue crystal carved in the shape of a polar bear.
“Her talisman,” Meilin whispered.
Perhaps they wouldn’t have to wake Suka. If they could just break through the ice and reach the talisman . . .
“We need Maya,” said Meilin.
Abeke glanced around, peeking in a few rooms. “There doesn’t seem to be an exit through the Ice Palace.”
“We’ll have to go back the way we came, through the city,” said Meilin.
Abeke nodded. “I can wait here, guard Suka, while you get the others.”
Meilin’s skin was already covered in goose bumps from the cold and the frightening thrill of encountering this Great Beast. But at Abeke’s words, the hairs on her arms stood up even higher. She looked at Abeke, trying to gauge her expression, read her eyes for any thoughts of treachery.
“Maybe I should stay instead . . .” Meilin started.
Abeke sighed. “Meilin, I’ve tried everything I know. I left home, I left the Conquerors, I joined the Greencloaks. I’ve slept beside you and fought beside you. What else can I do to earn your trust?”
Meilin felt anger bubble inside her. The sight of Abeke’s face, innocent eyes, half concealed by darkness, made her fists curl. Abeke whose family was safe and alive in Nilo. Abeke who had hugged Shane, Abeke who might be conspiring with the enemy. Someone had to be responsible for what happened to her father — someone who Meilin could strike, make bleed, make pay. But she didn’t need Jhi here calming her thoughts and helping her focus her mind to realize that someone wasn’t Abeke.
“You stand watch,” said Meilin. “I’ll go.”
Meilin ran all the way back through the sleeping city and up the narrow stairway. She emerged into a stiff Arctican breeze, the noise startling after the near silence of the underground. Pulling her hood back up, she ran to the village, thinking how Abeke would be better at this. Stealthier. Less likely to arouse the Ardu.
Why had she wanted Meilin to do it?
Could Abeke have a way of melting or cutting through that ice?
Meilin stopped in the center of a snowy field and looked back. The camp was far closer now than the Ice City. She continued on, though her heartbeats stung and her mouth went dry with fear.
“Hurry,” she whispered to Tarik, Conor, Maya, and Rollan. “Put on your gear. Quiet. We found Suka.”
The four didn’t ask a question. They just started putting on boots and coats. In moments they were off again into the snow.
Meilin glanced back. Tarik’s otter, Lumeo, was in his active state, a small, pointed head peering out of the neck of Tarik’s coat. Maya’s salamander was no doubt keeping warm and out of sight as well. Briggan ran beside Conor, occasionally biting at the wind. Essix was nowhere to be seen.
And the entrance to the Ice City felt miles away. Meilin’s heart beat harder.
Had she made a mistake? Doubt seared through her. Perhaps Abeke had tricked her, played on her emotions to get Meilin to leave her alone. When she returned, the Crystal Polar Bear would be gone. Abeke would be gone. Meilin would be less trustworthy than Conor, who gave a talisman over to the Conquerors. And she would be that much further from avenging her father.
Meilin ran in front, and when she began to descend down the hidden steps, she heard someone gasp in surprise.
The gasps continued when they emerged from the narrow tunnel into the city itself.
“The song,” Conor whispered. “The city artists made. The carved city. This is it.”
Meilin put her finger to her lips and pointed at the nearest window, indicating that they weren’t alone. Rollan’s eyes widened, and Tarik peered through briefly, but they all resisted slowing to marvel at the city, following Meilin as quickly as they dared. The ice walkways had been carefully scored with cobblestone shapes, which minimized slipping. But it was still ice underfoot, and the ravine just to the side of the walkway led so far down that only darkness stared back up.
They hurried on in quick, careful steps. What would happen if the city dwellers awoke and found them trespassing?
What would happen if Abeke — and the talisman — were gone?
More gasps behind her when Meilin led them to the Ice Palace and
to the pedestal of Suka. Meilin’s middle felt as frozen as the city as she walked around the other side. No hole in the ice. The Crystal Polar Bear still tied to Suka’s frozen paw. Abeke stood on the stairs.
Abeke smiled at Meilin, and Meilin exhaled and smiled back.
“There,” Abeke said, pointing to the left paw. “Maya, can you extract that?”
Conor and Rollan were just standing there, staring up at the huge beast, their mouths open. Meilin rolled her eyes, but suspected she’d worn a similar expression when she first laid eyes on the monstrosity.
Tarik was running his hands over the ice, walking around the block as if measuring.
“We could never hack through this, not without —”
“Waking the whole city,” Abeke finished.
“Yes, I don’t think the Ardu hospitality would survive if they discovered us trying to cut into Suka’s icy prison,” said Tarik.
The four teammates looked around, catching one another’s eyes. Meilin felt that they were all thinking, as she was, of past cities, past communities like Samis, who just wanted to keep things as they were. But Erdas had already changed and nothing could stay as it always had been — not in Zhong, not in Trunswick, not even in the wilds of Amaya, not anywhere for long. The Devourer’s reach was long. Meilin was sorry to trespass on the Ardu, but she knew — like Conor, Rollan, and Abeke seemed to know — that no one was safe unless the Devourer was stopped. She believed in their mission. Collect power. Protect the talismans. Prepare to fight.
“Here?” asked Maya, pointing to the Crystal Polar Bear.
Tarik nodded. “As much as I’d like to meet Suka, I am hesitant to expose any of you to a beast that size.”
“Look at those claws,” Rollan whispered. “They’re as long as butter knives. Sharp butter knives. No, meat knives.”
“If we can free the talisman without waking Suka —” Tarik began.
“Come look at her teeth!” Conor called from atop the stairs.
“Okay, everyone, here it goes,” said Maya.
