Glass Winter | Chapter IV

Sevt insisted on moving quickly. Quinart believed they should at least take the victims down from their gallows. After searching the neighbouring houses for tools more reliable than a dirk, the two men set about cutting the nooses with bedding placed underneath for soft landing. An hour later saw all of the deceased arranged in the centre of the plaza. With no time for a burial, the company decided on cremation, using the bedding as kindling with Sevt’s light stick setting it all ablaze.

“We’d best leave before the stench.”

He assumed that it would be too much for Quinart and the little Aurora. It would more than likely be too much for Sevt. Even so, the girl revealed a small tome with a seal skin covering and cited a prayer in a tongue he did not understand. Quinart put his arm around the girl in silent contemplation while she spoke. Sevt said nothing.

“The fire shouldn’t spread to the houses. The plaza’s large enough. Even if a stray ember makes it—”

“It would be fate, wouldn’t it?” Quinart directed the girl to the husky sled once she had ended the prayer, “Come, Sevt. A child shouldn’t see such things.”

And yet she was calm enough when we found her.

Even now she hardly seemed fazed.

“Girl.”

She turned around. Sevt walked over to her and Quinart.

“You’re the daughter of the town official – you said that your sister was the one deceived by the inhuman?”

She seemed to be wary of him, but she responded with a simple ‘yes’.

“Then your father would have known of the passage through the mountains…”

Quinart was already objecting, “For the last time, now’s not the moment to be searching—”

“…and of the sites surrounding it. You excavated the stone necessary to construct the sentry tower. Is there a quarry or mine we can hide in before the Smiling Bastard returns?”

It was one thing to seek refuge in the commune itself, forever under the influence of a demon determined on one’s desolation. It was another to find a place potentially not tarnished by his presence. They salvaged enough of what they could carry in their sled from the now vacant properties; an axe for each of the two men, bandages and honey for Sevt’s glass scars, fur coats and blankets, rope, a variety of meats, moss, and fungi, and skins for carrying water melted from snow. Two bundles of firewood were also brought.

Now we rest in an underground church.

A chapel of stone with sconces mounting its walls, rows of seats separated by a central walkway, and a slab altar at the head of the room. Aurora had explained that producing tapestries out of deer or bear fur proved a challenge, and hanging them up by themselves seemed like heathenism. In plainness there would be modesty, and this the church chose.

“…and you fought so valiantly, sir!”

Despite the compliment she still spoke with apprehension in her voice.

Was the sight of the battle really so terrible?

“I’m no fighter. But I did what I could with the tools that I had.”

“You are a fighter!”

Quinart handed out rations, “Let’s speak of this no more.”

Strelka growled in the corner, snapping at Belka who scampered away. Laika was braver in trying to steal a portion for herself, resulting in her being chased by Strelka down the chapel and around the three people seated at its centre. Medved had finished his share and, after observing in silence, silenced the fray with quick sepulchral woof. Peace returned to the room.

Quinart’s been deeply affected by all of this.

Sevt was not so much surprised as he was perturbed by the other’s fall into taciturnity. Its symptoms were no longer of rage or of despair. Darkness plotted behind the man’s eyes in an internal storm that had not yet been displayed.

If this is your process for grieving…

And yet it was not. This was something else. Not vengeance; he had made no effort in staying back to await the Smiling Bastard’s return, meaning his head had already cooled. He would therefore also perceive the futility of going up against a foe with no clear guarantee of success, should their paths ever cross again. Something else was brewing.

Quinart had hardly reacted to the demon’s crackling cry when the company rode out of the commune, heralding the creature’s return. A glaring white star had crashed into the city plaza, flattening most of the surrounding homes in a wave of snow. Yet the musher kept quiet.

“What was it?” Aurora seemed to brave another question for Sevt.

“It wasn’t human.” He ripped a chunk of bear meat with his teeth.

“Who knew such things could exist!”

“That’s enough, Aurora.” Quinart had not yet eaten his share of the rations, holding a slice in his hand.

“I’ll go and pray for their safe passage.”

She walked over to the altar, near which Medved was resting. He invigilated her silent prayer.

“Why didn’t you follow the others to the mountains? Those that survived?”

“Father was strongly against it. The party departed the commune after a skirmish – so great was our disagreement.”

And she had fled the gallows at the opportune moment. She knew of this chapel for the coal and stone miners, and she had known of the village’s hidden places. Even after losing everything, she had retained her faith.

“The faith of innocence.” Sevt rubbed his hands clean after eating and stirred the small bonfire before him, its smoke escaping through the many apertures perforated in the ceiling as pipes leading up to the surface, “If anything it makes more sense that someone so young, and so devout, would survive what she has just seen.”

“And for what?” Quinart’s eyes would not meet the other’s while he spoke, “Where must we go now?”

There’s only one way to go.

Sevt’s was still a vivid dream of the glass castle, a hopeful sign. It was not much to stake their future on, but it meant something.

And yet those that had followed the lights past the mountains were, supposedly, never the same again…

“If she’s to retain her belief in that book and what it preaches, she will always have the mind of a child.” Quinart shook his head, “She’ll see the truth, one day. It will terrify a girl as pure as her. I’ll have to be there during that season of fear.”

“You’re not a godly man, then?”

“I’ve learned to accept things as they are, and be at peace, Sevt. It’s all we can hope for.”

“Mm, well… your townsfolk weren’t as strong. But there are those that still think otherwise. Who are you to tear them down because you see reality for what it is?”

“Who are you to critique my teachings? Recall that it was my words that convinced you to ride my sled in the first place.”

“Recall that we were both headed in the same direction. Courtesy of the lights, as your people once did as well.” Sevt saw that Aurora was standing up and coming back, “I could leave the both of you now to pursue something that you still deem as foolish. But you’d be smart enough to realise the foolishness of your decision to stay where you are and do nothing. That’s something I cannot abide by.”

They were quiet when the girl returned. She could sense the lingering tension that had been moments before.

“Are you a man of faith, sir Sevt?”

“Just Sevt. And when it comes to that book in your hands – no. I don’t believe in a god.”

But I do hold onto hope, and the dream of my Faith. There’s overlap there.

“These are records from the homeland. Brought with us by father’s father when he was taken and placed in the snow. You cannot argue against such truth.”

For all I know you hold a piece of prose, not a factual creed. Given that nobody remembers a thing from before this place.

But Sevt said nothing.

“What do you believe in, sir? You seem conflicted.”

Sevt chuckled, “Quite the inquisitor, you are. But never mind me. Tell us of how we are to make it through the mountain.”

Aurora’s expression, which had been timid enough, paled at the mention of the passage forward.

“Why would you ever want to go there?”

Quinart was silent. Sevt was on his own.

“There’s promise of an escape and of a better life, Aurora. Surely, you’re not planning on evading that demon and feeding off lichen and seal for the rest of your life? That doesn’t sound like living to me.”

“I have faith in the Lord for His protection. I know not what else I should do next.”

“And what constitutes your faith, might I ask?”

Aurora looked to Quinart, who still said nothing, then back to Sevt, “What constitutes yours, sir?”

The huskies now huddled together in the far corner of the room, some already asleep, with Medved ever watchful. Sevt could not tell if the dog was looking at him or Aurora.

“I trust in the Lord because it’s all I have.” She said, hugging her book, “I know not what it is I should do or what it is I should say. I could spend the moments or days between my decisions and actions wallowing in despair, worrying myself hollow. But I also have the choice of relinquishing the burden in exchange for peace that, in time, will give me the answers I need. There’s little of the supernatural involved. It is only the human condition. Be it by the Lord’s hand or through natural law. I cannot deny, however, the influence caused by my belief in a God than in my trusting anything else. It is a comfort like no other.”

Aurora placed a hand on Quinart’s shoulder, “I’ve been trying to teach Uncle Quin of the Word for many months! He’d lost all hope long ago.”

“Aye, I live day to day. But at least I’m happy, child. And not delusional.”

“Now then, Quin,” Sevt stood up, “She’s just a child, as you’ve said. Don’t go wounding her belief.”

My beliefs hardly differ.

He recalled Faith’s golden hair, billowing on the breeze…

~~~~~

Sevt’s foot would be the end of him. Nigh every step resulted in pain, and he had been dragging the sled with Quinart through the woods over terrain too rough for the dogs to pull on. The girl was guiding them just ahead.

“We need to leave it behind, mate.”

“Not a chance. Aurora will guide you to the mountain pass, then she and I will be off. We’ve to wait for the remaining mushers to return by the forest highway, then we will leave with them unto another settlement.”

“There are others?”

“We’ll be building them.”

Starlight provided scarce illumination as it were, and in the trees the company could hardly see three feet in front of them. They would not use Sevt’s lantern with the Smiling Bastard still prowling the skies over the vale.

That fight destroyed my foot.

He could not part with it just yet, not when unknown traversal still awaited him. It would mean he would, one day, lose even more of his leg as the frostbite spread. Sevt would be ready for this, though his would be the hand to amputate the limb not Quinart’s, who was intent on parting ways.

Though I’d rather he didn’t doom himself and the girl by leaving.

Only a dark future could await them in a hell so cold and barren. He could not fathom what might be so terrible beyond the mountains that they should choose to remain behind.

“You’re finally listening to reason, then, are you?”

“And you’re not, mate. That girl’s going to be praying her whole life for a way out when she has the sign she’s been asking for.”

“I will not let you take her beyond those mountains, Sevt. That’s final.”

“Girl.”

Aurora looked over her shoulder.

“What am I to expect when I cross the massif?”

She paled again, and looked forward.

“Girl?”

“Only one party claim to have made it through, and even then their account begs scrutiny. They had been crossing underground for a week…”

How large is this mountain range?

“…in pitch darkness. Darker than even these woods. They crossed by water, they claim. A boundless ringwoodite sea in the world’s nadir where no sunlight reaches. After finding its shores following an almost two day descent via the mountain caverns, they had returned to stock up on blubber, fat, and oil, enough to light their way through the darkness for a month. They anchored a post at their place of departure, tethering buoys by rope made of animal fur, skin, and their own hair, so as to guide them home should the situation arise.”

“Funny blokes, them. Was crossing the mountains too much of a hassle? Perhaps even going around?”

“We'd searched.” Said Quinart, “The Mountain Wall never seems to end in either direction. This here is the only forward.”

Almost as if it's been built with intention by someone or something.

They had reached a wall, not unlike the one with the doors to the subterranean chapel they had just departed from. Sevt had to crane his neck to see its apex. It was one of the many alps, like the blades of swords, merged together in what was indeed a Mountain Wall. A cavernous mouth, dark as pitch, yawned over three hundred feet above them, with embedded rudimentary stairs of wood snaking their way from the ground to its entrance.

“If God is real, he made all things, even this cold purgatory,” Aurora looked to the others, “If God is real, He created this passage for the very people fateful enough to cross it. All we have to be is brave enough in taking the first step.”

Quinart was shaking his head, “Aurora, no.”

“I’ve decided. I think I’m more afraid of staying and dying where I am, Uncle Quin. If choosing to believe there’s somebody looking out for us means I have a chance at a better life on the other side of the trials we face, I’m willing to take it.”