by Tara West
“Do not tell me you tire already?” Ryne called behind him. “You’ve yet to climb the Gnull Tusks.”
Markus lengthened his stride, though he knew he risked falling. He channeled all of his concentration into digging his feet into the ice and then pulling them free again while he worked to steady his labored breathing. Finally, he almost caught up with Ryne.
“What is a gnull tusk?” Markus asked.
“A gnull is a beast; a vicious beast, thrice as large as a snowbear, with bloodshot eyes and two large tusks protruding from its mouth.” Ryne made an animated roar before hunching up his shoulders and swinging his arms in front of his face.
Though Markus could not see his expression, he could hear a smile in Ryne’s voice; he seemed to take pleasure in scaring him. Markus wondered if he had ever tormented Ura this much. After spending only one morning with this man who behaved like a child, he missed Alec’s gentle words and kind smile. He was struck by an ache in his chest. How he longed to see his brother.
Markus shook his head, trying his best to purge any dark thoughts as missing Alec would not do him any good now. “So we are to climb these gnull’s tusks?”
“They are two columns of ice, curved like gnull tusks. That is how they got their name.”
Markus swallowed. “There are no gnulls there?”
“They reside mostly in the river.”
“A river?” Markus jerked his foot clumsily out of the ice, missed purchase with the next step, and nearly fell on his face. “Beneath this ice?”
Ryne continued his steady stride, not seeming to care whether Markus had stumbled. “The Danae,” he called over his shoulder.
Markus breathed a deep rush of air before refocusing on the task of walking on ice. “Danae Creek runs near my village.”
Ryne stopped, allowing him time to catch up. From what Markus could see, their path descended into a darkened cave. Jagged ice crystals protruded from the mouth of the cave, making it look like the maw of a great beast.
Ryne folded his arms across his chest, a knowing expression in his smile. “Yes, the Danae River feeds into your creek.”
Markus stilled as his gaze traveled to the ground. Just how thick was this ice and how precarious? “How is it that a river runs beneath, yet this glacier still stands?”
Ryne chuckled. “Our glacier is far more vast than you realize.” His pale eyes darkening, he added, “But the Danae is rising. Even the Ice People cannot deny that.”
Markus thought of the river and how it flowed from beneath Ura’s kingdom to his village. If the glacier was truly melting, and the river swelling, then one day his village would be submerged as well. Markus thought of his home being washed away, with Alec, Dianna and her brother swept up in the flood. Then he imagined these beasts called gnulls swimming into his village.
“The Danae must be very large if gnulls live within its waters.”
Ryne nodded. “There are several pockets of water beneath our glacier, some nearly as large as Crystal Lake.”
A chill raced up Markus’s spine and he suspected it had nothing to do with the frigid air. “Do gnulls live there, too?”
Ryne shrugged as Tar sidled up to him and nudged his leg. “The gnulls live in the deeper parts of the river; about three days’ journey from here.”
Markus willed the tension in his neck and shoulders to subside, though ever so slightly, and wished his arm was not broken. If only he was free from this blasted curse, so he could defend himself against any ice beasts with his bow.
“The gnulls do not surface?”
Ryne slipped his pack off his back and dug out a few serpent tails before tossing them to the dog. “Only when they are very hungry.”
Tar’s jowls snapped with a loud ‘pop’ as he caught each tail and devoured them without so much as chewing the meat.
Markus imagined one of the gnull beasts swallowing him in the same way.
“What do they eat?” he asked, fearing he already knew the answer.
“Kraehn, usually, but the gnull will eat anything they damn well please.” Ryne’s face hardened, his mouth set in a grim line. “It is best that we are always on our guard when we travel, and why we fish in packs.”
Markus worked to close his gaping jaw. “But there are only two of us now. Do you not fear a gnull could overcome us?”
“Us? Why, no.” Ryne flashed a sideways grin. “You would make a filling meal for a gnull, and Tar and I can easily outrun you.”
Ryne turned and continued his descent into the cave with his dog at his heels.
Markus warily trailed in their wake.
THE WALK THROUGH THE pitch-black cave turned out to be much harder than expected, even though Markus knew he did not need to see to put one foot in front of the other. He tried to consider himself lucky that he had his ears to guide him. All he had to do was listen to the crunching of Ryne’s boots ahead and the heavy breathing of the mutt.
Markus wondered how hunters were ever able to harvest their kill with such noisy companions. When the irksome dog was not whimpering, slobbering or chewing his behind, he was panting like a boar in heat. But, in all honesty, Markus welcomed the distraction of Tar, because the dog kept his mind off other things: dark thoughts of his father striking Alec; the crimson bullseye on his mother’s stomach; and Alec alone and afraid, with no one to care for him.
The tunnel’s frigid air also kept Markus in the present, though as he descended further into its icy grasp, he was not so sure it was a fair trade. Despite the exertion of traversing the ice and the burning pain buzzing across his sore muscles, as if fire ants had burrowed beneath his flesh, Markus was chilled to the bone. It was a cold unlike any he’d ever known. As he walked, he kept his head down to prevent his face being pelted by the wind.
Wind! Beneath the ice!
Markus had no idea from whence it came, but the tunnel was alive with the freezing air flowing all around him, mayhap even though him, for the wind seemed to breathe through every pore in his skin. As they finally emerged from the dark pit, he wanted to shout in relief, but even the shallowest of breaths burned his lungs.
Ryne turned to him, and Markus was shocked to see frost crystals had formed along his pale brows and nose. “I see you’ve survived the Icy Lung.”
Markus simply glared at the man who had taken him through that frozen hell pit without warning.
Ryne bent over and patted Tar on the back, brushing crystals of his coat and face. Straightening up, he trudged ahead, leaving Markus no choice but to follow.
They were now on an incline and Markus’s calf muscles screamed in protest with each upward step. But, as they ascended, he couldn’t help but notice how the walls above them seemed to brighten, almost as if the sun’s rays were permeating the cavern walls. Surely this could not be, as the ice would have melted.
Reaching the top of the steep hill, Markus gasped in awe. The dome-shaped cavern housed what looked like rows upon rows of plants, each one as tall as him—a garden amid the ice. There were several ice dwellers tending to the plants, scraping crystals off leaves and trimming the long, slender stalks.
The garden was far larger than Markus’s family’s little plot of soil beside their cabin, and the rows of greenery seemed to go on forever. He lifted his gaze and, once again, found himself in awe of the bright dome. Beams of light pierced its translucent surface and cast a dazzling glow over the plants below. How was it that this cavern had not melted?
Markus slowly followed Ryne through the garden, careful to keep his good arm by his side and not brush against the long, leafy stems. Ryne greeted a few ice dwellers as they went, but most of them shrieked when they saw Tar, despite Ryne’s protests that the dog was harmless.
As they walked further into the garden jungle, Markus’s senses were accosted by a sweet, pungent smell. The odor reminded him of the horrible dragon-weed broth that Ura had tried to force down his throat; the same slime that Jon was cooking on his stone hearth this morning. So, this was where the ice dwel
lers’ main source of sustenance came from.
The further they traveled into the dragon-weed jungle, the more overpowering the smell. Gah! Markus wanted to wretch. How did these people stomach these plants? By the time they cleared the garden, his lungs were screaming in protest; not from the exertion, but from holding his breath.
After inhaling a huge gulp of air, Markus sighed in relief. Though the odor was still strong, it wasn’t quite as powerful as inside the garden. Markus only hoped it wouldn’t stick to his clothes and skin. He still had no idea how, or if, the Ice People bathed and he didn’t welcome the thought of spending a whole season stinking of dragon weed.
It wasn’t until Ryne shrugged the pack off his back that Markus spotted the two towering columns ahead of them. He let out a deep groan. How was a novice like he supposed to scale such obstacles, and with a broken arm?
Each tower was the width of a mighty lyme tree and must have risen to the height of forty men. Markus squinted. What appeared to be tiny insects on each column were actually climbers scaling the ice.
Markus spun around at the sound of Tar growling behind him. When he saw the smirking, skeletal figure of Bane Eryll approaching, he let out a low growl of his own. Bane was flanked by two equally ugly boys who looked no older than Markus. Though not as scrawny as Bane, his companions had the same beady eyes.
Bane strutted over, puffing out his chest. Markus had to repress a laugh as he recalled the image of the one scrawny rooster who ruled his mother’s small nest of hens.
Bane turned up his chin and flashed a toothy smile at Ura’s brother. “Greetings, Ryne, how fortunate that my brothers and I found you here.” Dropping his cheerful countenance, he turned to Markus with a scowl. “Land dweller,” he growled, before turning back to Ryne. “Where is your sister?”
“With our father,” Ryne answered flatly, “although it is no concern of yours.”
“Such a shame.” Bane’s voice contained a little too much exuberance. “I was hoping she would see me scale the tusks. Since you left, no man has been able to best me. I’d even be willing to bet that I can reach the top faster than you.”
Ryne turned his back on Bane and rummaged through his pack. “I doubt Ura would care how fast you can climb and I am not here to race. I am here to teach Markus.”
Markus blinked hard at Ryne. It was the first time Ura’s brother had referred to him by his given name.
Bane let out a laugh that sounded more like the squawk of a bird. Markus was beginning to wonder if the man-boy was part fowl.
“You can’t be serious!” Bane waved a hand at Markus. “You mean to teach this giant how to scale ice?”
Behind him, Bane’s brothers chuckled.
Markus clenched his fists by his sides as he struggled to quell his growing ire.
“I do.” Ryne didn’t bother to look up as he began to examine the strands of a long rope.
Bane shrugged and cast a sideways glance at Markus. “I think you must be right. Why would Ura care how fast I can climb when watching this gnull fall on his ass will make a much finer spectacle?”
The brothers chuckled louder and Bane joined in with a few more loud squawks.
Pressure swirled inside Markus’s skull like the violent ferocity of a winter storm trapped inside a canyon. He wanted nothing more than to release his anger and pound Bane into oblivion. As he struggled to control his rage, Markus was caught off guard by the sound of loud growling beside him. He glanced down at Tar, who was squatting down on all four haunches with his ears alert and fur raised along the ridge of his back. The dog’s long canines were exposed, making him look like a fierce predator.
Ryne knelt by his dog and stroked his neck. “Easy, boy.”
Bane backed up several paces, nearly knocking over one of his brothers in the process. “Is that beast rabid?”
“No.” Ryne stood and leveled Bane with a glare. “He is just a good judge of character.”
Bane’s face hardened, but he said nothing as he strode past Ryne and toward the Gnull Tusks.
Markus heaved a sigh. It was going to be a long morning.
“NO, MARKUS, LIKE THIS!”
Markus swore under his breath. He had advanced up the tusk no more than a few steps. Ryne kept halting his progress to tell him he wasn’t leaning into his spikes in the right way, but he could not do it. It felt too unnatural, not to mention uncomfortable. Markus would much rather hug the ice with his one good arm than rely on his legs to do so much of the work.
They had been at it all morning, and Markus was nowhere near reaching his goal. Ryne had belayed the end of the rope several feet above him. All Markus had to do was reach that belay point, but it was easier said than done when Ryne kept stopping his progress.
All the while, Bane had advanced up and down each tusk with ease. Markus thought that the boy-man’s bones were probably as hollow as a bird’s. His fingers were small and thin, and could fit easily into the small cracks along the icy wall. Bane was also lithe and quick, like a spider traversing a web. Markus hated him all the more for his skill and was certain he would easily be able to reach Madhea without injury.
To make matters worse, Ryne’s mutt would not stop his incessant whining and barking. He stood on his hind legs below them, scratching at the ice wall as if he was begging to be pulled up. Despite Ryne’s admonitions, Tar would not be quiet.
Ryne and Markus received their fair share of sour looks from other climbers. Many tired of Tar’s barking and simply went home. In the end, Markus, Ryne, Bane and his brothers were the only climbers left. The dog continued to bark.
Bane must have finally tired of the noise as well, because Markus heard him mention turning Tar into a winter cloak before he and his brothers packed up and left.
Markus’s legs were tired, and his soles and fingers were cramping. “Haven’t we had enough for one day?” he asked.
“Quit your whining, land dweller,” Ryne grumbled as he reclined back in his makeshift swing. Gripping a knot in front of him, he planted both feet on the surface of the tusk. Ryne looked so natural hanging from the side of the steep slope, as if he had no worries of his rope unraveling or the ice breaking.
Something about his careless indifference was unsettling to Markus. “Why do you call me land dweller to my face, but Markus in the presence of Bane?”
Ryne shrugged, before again yelling at Tar to quiet down. “I do not wish to give him the satisfaction.”
“Satisfaction?”
Ryne studied Markus for a long moment in what appeared to be an assessing gaze. “Of knowing that I dislike you as much as he does.”
Markus swallowed, not knowing how to answer. Despite the frigid air around him, warmth flushed his chest and face. Oddly enough, he couldn’t summon the energy for a retort. Rather than feel anger at Ryne’s admission, it pained Markus to know that Ura’s brother thought badly of him.
“Is that as far as you’ve gotten?”
Markus looked down to see Ura standing a few heads below him. As if he couldn’t have been brought any lower, now she would bear witness to his poor climbing skills.
Ryne chuckled before thumbing toward Markus. “This slog refuses to heed my advice.”
Markus gritted his teeth; shame had been replaced by anger. If Ryne wanted to tease him, so be it, but he would not sit idly by and be made a fool of in front of Ura.
“Not when I know you’d like for nothing more than to watch me fall,” he replied.
Ryne’s sun-kissed face brightened as his eyes danced with merriment. “Of course, I don’t want you to fall, not with my dog beneath you!”
Markus gritted his teeth. If they were not suspended several feet off the ground, and if Ryne was not Ura’s brother and Jon’s son, Markus would gladly pummel him.
“Father has sent me,” Ura called. “He feared you wouldn’t return in time.”
Ryne nodded toward an ice crystal growing from a narrow shelf above them. “I have been watching the mites.”
Markus lo
oked up at the object, which glowed faintly at the tip. He did not understand how, but the ice dwellers seemed to use these suspended cones of ice to gauge the time.
“Is it time to go then?” he asked Ryne.
Ryne shrugged. “Almost.”
Markus jumped at the sound of picks smashing through ice below him. He looked down to see Ura climbing up without a rope or a partner, her only tools being spiked boots and ice picks.
“What are you doing?” he gasped.
Ura flashed a dazzling smile. “I’m coming up!” Then she resumed her pace, as if climbing icy edifices was the most natural thing in the world for a girl to do.
Though Markus had been thirsty for some time, the remaining moisture in his mouth evaporated and he gazed at her, momentarily dumbstruck, with his jaw hanging open. “Y-you are scaling i-ice?” he rasped.
Ryne let out a low whistle. “Show this land dweller how it’s done.”
Markus turned on him. “You allow your sister to climb?”
Annoyance shone in Ryne’s features. “Of course.”
“But this is too dangerous for a girl.”
Ryne smirked before nodding at Markus. “And yet you’re up here.”
In the next moment, Ura was between them. As he looked into her beautiful, vibrant eyes, Markus felt as if the wind had been sucked out of his lungs. “How did you get here so fast?”
Ryne snorted. “She can scale this entire column with no rope.”
Markus watched with envy as Ryne swung on the rope toward his sister. She planted a kiss on her brother’s cheek before continuing up the tusk.
Though Markus knew the spikes of his soles were firmly planted in the ice, his heart and gut felt as if they were plummeting toward the ground. Ura left the scent of cool spices in her wake as she lithely climbed up the incline.
“Ura, you could be killed,” Markus called out weakly.
But it was too late. She was already several paces above him. A fall from that height would kill her for sure.
“No, land dweller,” Ryne admonished, staring up at his sister with an expression akin to pride, “she is part mite.”
