Glass Winter | Chapter VI

“Don’t drink the water, Medved!” Quinart pulled the husky away from the edge of the punt, “There’re shards of ringwoodite just floating about.”

Sevt, his leg still half destroyed, lifted his lantern staff to see as much of the surrounding waters as possible, hoping to catch a stray buoy not far from the one they currently rested against. There was only darkness.

“We followed the trail straight from the shore, didn’t we?” Aurora was petting Belka as they observed the others, “We can assume it’s a straight line to the opposite shore, can we not? There aren’t any currents to speak of down here, so I doubt the rope and their buoys drifted far from their original placement.”

“You’re not wrong, sweet one.” Quinart smiled, “But the journey’s supposed to take a week. That amount of rope might not follow a single given direction. We know not the details of the original party’s expedition.”

“If we blindly row into the darkness, we might never get out.” Sevt placed down his staff at the head of the boat, “For all we know the sea continues for hundreds if not thousands of miles past our destination.”

And the thought came to him.

We’re inside a colossal mineral deposit, percolated by water.

And the shores that the first company had discovered would lead them back to the surface, like the passage Sevt and the others had descended down days before. Their exit would be by a wall.

“…all we must do is find the nearest wall, and follow it until we reach shore.”

“Were you not the one who said the sea might be wider than what we anticipate?” Quinart was commanding the restless huskies to sit, “Finding a wall alone may have us burn through our resources.”

“It’s our only option, right now, besides turning back. We already know which direction we came from, which will help. Treating our point of departure as south, were we to… row west and strike the wall of this mountainous cavern, we would only need to move north.”

“Assuming there are no branching vestibules. There’s no guarantee that this ocean lies in a single pocket under the earth.”

Sevt’s amputation wound burned hotter than it had the last few days. He thought he heard whispers in his ears that vanished as quickly as he turned to face them.

The demons don’t wait too long before they try again, do they?

They were too far out already. They could not turn back.

“Let’s review our provisions before we proceed.”

The honey had soothed the scars on Sevt’s face, and those still healing on his back from his confrontation with the white bear over a week ago. It was decided to use its remaining contents, a near jar and a half full, as rations for when all else ran out. Reindeer, seal, and bear meat still remained, though sharing it scarcely between seven mouths meant they could only survive for another four days. Lucky for them, their selection of lichen could sustain them for longer – freckle pelt, finger, and kidney lichen made up their stores.

Why bring the dogs along?

Quinart had left his sled behind. The huskies were both a sentimental and avaricious company. Though they were used to little food while in the barrens, the narrow boat had them restless. The musher had suffered a bite on his wrist from a frustrated Laika. He had bandaged the wound only after separating the dog from Strelka coming to protect their common master. Sevt was yet to suggest their eating the huskies when the time came.

Quinart used a pelt of deer skin to scoop up the spilt waters in the hull of the boat, tossing them overboard, “We’re not to stray from the buoys, else we might never find them again.”

Sevt watched the eddying water, “And yet Aurora is right. Observe how calm it is. There’s hardly a current down here, not when the sea is almost sealed from the air far above and only until we row through. If we were to venture forward, following a straight line, there’s a chance of our finding the exit.”

“We have already discussed the folly of this.”

“But the tether has been straight, has it not? We’ve yet to encounter a sharp turn in the line. This final buoy, right here, might have drifted away from those we are still to encounter, but with no draught and a stable temperature, as I have said, the currents in this sea are negligible. How are our oil stores?”

“We’ve yet to use them. We’ve only relied on your lantern staff. But how can you expect us to row blindly out into the—”

“That’s why we need oil. The fats, the blubber. We’ll leave a trail of it in our wake. At least for the day. If we cannot find a single buoy, we’ll light it ablaze, and the burning line will guide us back to the tether we rest against now.”

“And what of the remaining mushers yet to reach the commune?”

Quinart, Aurora, even the huskies, all waited for an answer from Sevt.

“You haven’t forgotten about them, have you, lantern man?”

“I have not.”

I’m not the selfish member of our company, Quin.

Sevt was the pragmatic one.

“We leave a note behind, same as you did at the entrance to the vale, though we scratch it onto one of the animal pelts We leave it on the last connected buoy, right here.” Sevt touched the bobbing marker of amalgamated wood and floating blubber, “If we find the next buoy, the mushers will have a flammable trail of oil ready to alight and lead them to their salvation. Even if it burns out too soon, they will know which direction to follow.”

Sevt picked up the oar, unused against the interior side of the hull, and held it out to Quin.

“But we can’t stay where we are. There are too many lives at stake on this boat, never mind my own ‘selfish’ dream. I cannot row in my condition. Yours is the final decision.”

The man did not move.

I’m giving you this choice, Quin, for a reason.

Ever since the commune tragedy his trust in Sevt had been waning, though it was unclear why this was the case.

I suppose his world has been shattered and I’ve been asking him to leave it behind.

Quin was not the man to do such a thing. But he was not stupid; pragmatism was shared between his approach to survival and Sevt’s. They clashed when it came to the details.

What could I have been fighting for back at home for me to be dropped here…? Was Quin snatched for a similar reason?

If they were each the villain in someone else’s story, for a cause neither could now recall, by nature their character could only promote distrust.

“Give it here, then.”

Can ‘traitorous’ people be given a second chance to prove themselves to each other?

Perhaps this frozen barren was a test for this change. Sevt had not the time to ponder on this before handing the quant oar over to their new navigator.

“It’s too shallow to punt in an ocean. You pour the oil, then, Sevt. I’ll row by your side.”

He almost smiled, preparing a deer pelt and his dirk to write the note on, “Alright then. With nearly a week down, we’re closer than ever to reaching the shore.”

“Less talk, now.”

So Sevt poured. A fine trickle of oil and fat, saving as much as they could with the two casks they had in the boat. For what must have been over half a day they proceeded this way until the old man nigh fell from exhaustion.

“Let me take over. You pour instead.” Sevt handed over the jar.

“Enough. Sleep.” Quin patted the other on the arm.

Sevt responded with an amiable clutch of the man’s shoulder, before handing out rations.

“I think God keeps us in the dark for a reason.”

There she goes again.

Aurora had the holy book in her hands. Belka was by her side, resting and inspecting the words as if she knew what they were.

“Have you too been having peculiar dreams as of late, uncle Quin?”

“I don’t dream, little one. What have you seen?”

He seems calm for one who claims that all dreams in this place are prophetic.

He did not think her recounts to be serious, it seemed. Aurora mentioned swords gleaming in a snowstorm, followed by a ‘tenebrous terror’ where she saw nothing at all until she awoke.

“It’s a terrible vision, isn’t it?”

“Do the swords ever harm you?” Asked Quin.

“Not at all. It’s only the darkness that follows which terrifies me so. What could it mean?”

She referred to the text and petted the dog at her side. Quin would approach Sevt before his watch, speaking in a hushed tone.

“The only ‘swords’ that might be seen in a place like this are those that belonged to some of the armed men that joined the commune. There’s a chance that the girl’s dream prophesises our encounter with the very separatists which fled from the… confused souls who would eventually take their own lives. The others took all of the few weapons there were, it seemed, since we could not find even one.”

“These dreams you tell me of, Quin, they’re not to be taken at face value. Not all of them.”

Sevt wanted to tell him of the son he could not see in a memory identical to the dream he inhabited.

“There may be truth in that,” Quin cut him off before the chance presented itself, “There’s a terrible presence pursuing us that I haven’t been able to shake since we departed shore.”

“Almost like the darkness is heavy.”

Could the ‘tenebrous terror’ be the dark that follows should the lantern go out?

Its flame had grown since Sevt had conversed with the shadow, but it was low all the same. The very swords that Aurora dreaded could very well have surrounded their boat already. There was only the moment needed to strike.

With their lightless morning came a disturbance in the air. There was no breeze or currents to speak of yet, save for an unshakeable weight on their shoulders. Quin’s was an ill disposition, and despite protest from Aurora and Sevt encouraging a day of rest, he insisted on rowing.

“We still have half a day to find a buoy before we’re forced to return.”

The huskies no longer whined or scampered about the boat. Even Medved, a composure unyielding, lay defeated and still.

“How’d you decide on their names, uncle Quin?”

“I didn’t.” Every push of the oar seemed like a struggle for him, “They kept me company as themselves until I discovered human life in the barren. The commune’s locals, your neighbours, were kind enough to name them.”

Sevt suggested they switch tasks, but Quin refused.

“You keep on marking the trail. This is my duty to bear. You gave it to me, and I accepted it gladly.”

There was movement in the water, greater than that of the first night when Sevt spoke to the shadow. He had not told the others of the occurrence, though now the presence could not be ignored.

“Don’t panic, Quin.” There was now a slight breeze, “Keep rowing.”

“You hear that too, do you?

“Both of you pay it no mind, and it will leave us alone.”

Sevt kept his back to the others while watching the stern’s perimeter. Outside their circle of light, the darkness swirled and rushed.

“You think it’s the inhuman?”

So, he suspects it as much I did. He feels the weight of the darkness.

“Something else.” Sevt placed a hand on his dirk, though he suspected that something as shapeless as this could not be hurt by a corporeal blade.

“The girl is a burden. The dogs are a burden. How much of yourself have you given to others and received nothing but pain and loss in return?”

Quin had stopped rowing and turned on the spot. Sevt sealed the jar of fat with animal skin and a string.

“Quin, let me take over. Don’t stop.”

“Why pursue more fruitless charity? You know better than anyone, traversing the inhospitable barrens, it is every man for himself in order to survive…”

“Are you the same one that hurt the others? Are you that Smiling Bastard?!”

We’ve just discussed this, Quin.

“Stay calm. You know they’re getting into your head.”

“Your companion’s no different in catching your ear. You would never have come so far were not for his clever words. What reason have you to trust him?”

Their boat was rocking from foreign currents. The dogs and Aurora were anxiously looking between the gloom and the others.

“Girl, these are of the same bunch that lied to your people. Don’t you listen to a word they say, you know this too, Quin.”

He’s been the most unstable one since the commune. They’re targeting him.

“You left your neighbours behind, as you have done countless times before. Yours is the way to start things that are never seen to their end. Blind and aimless you are.”

Quin was lowering the oar. The waters were rushing around them.

“You trust no one and nothing. Not even yourself. Yet you’ve allied with a man who follows a dream and a girl who worships a God. How have you deluded yourself so?”

Quin was silent and still.

Laika’s incessant barking alerted Sevt to turn at just the right moment; a shadow in human form impacted against the man’s staff with incredible strength, an aqueous shifting figure reeking of the foul. Sevt pressed his knees into the deck of their boat, he tasted blood in his gritted mouth, and with a sudden twist that nearly extinguished the flame in his lantern he pushed his foe into the water. Its grip threatened to pull the staff under. Sevt revealed his dirk, hacking straight through amorphous hands that restored in an instant.

If the light goes out, we’ll…

Quin’s oar divided the thing’s head into splashes, the release of its grasp sending Sevt back onto the boat.

“Damn this.” Quin wielded the quant like a spear, listening to the whispers in the dark.

Is he coming around?

Fire akin to frustration and scorn burned in his eyes as he glanced at Sevt.

Probably not. I might still be a burden.

The huskies were either growling or cowering. Aurora hugged Belka, the girl pale as snow.

“Aurora. Stay low and pray. Occupy your mind only with prayer, don’t listen to the demons, and don’t get up to help, no matter what happens.”

If they’re anything like the Smiling Bastard, they’ll leave the passive ones alone.

The girl clasped her hands, muttering.

“Anything other than prayer you can suggest for us, man?” Quin’s hands were trembling, his face in a grimace.

Their grip is strong when they find something to hold onto…

“I’m sorry about this. Promise to trust me unto the end?”

“What have you got, young man?”

“Trust me. It might be the only way for us to reach the shore unscathed.”

Sevt placed his hand under the lantern and pushed it inside its sheath, casting their boat into darkness.

I need to steady my mind.

Quin, meanwhile, bellowed, as was expected. The other could hear his feet shuffling around the deck, and the huskies began to yap and whine.

Listen.

The waters rushed. The whispers grew louder. Sevt approached Quin, ready to grab him only for the other’s grip to find the scruff of his cloak.

“What’d you do with the light—?!”

They were soaked and pulled towards the bow. With a jolt Sevt dropped the lantern out of its case, clasping Quin with his free hand while three or four shadows strained at the old man’s hood, pressing him against the front interior of the boat. Sevt thrust his left foot against the hull and pushed the lantern back inside its sleeve, making it protrude from the end of the staff. The boat was already racing across the waters.

“Trust, Quin!”

Spearing the warm staff in the shadows’ direction while they wrestled in darkness Sevt heard the hiss of evaporation, coupled with inhuman gurgling as the grip on Quin’s hood loosened. With another flick of the stick the boat was once more alight, now only pulled by a single oozing figure. Any faster and their ride would be flying off the surface of the sea.

The demon launched at the staff’s wielder who, with an overhead spin of the lantern and chain that just avoided its target, pushed it back to the front of the boat, still pulling the company along.

Sevt’s gut was kicked. And again.

“Stop that. Your life’s being saved, dammit.”

“Damn… you…” Quin was red in the face.

Sevt’s chin was booted.

He’s not thinking straight.

A lone buoy passed in a blur. Their angle was off. With another swing of the lamp near the shadow it changed its direction of pull to their left. Laika was barking.

Always was the noisiest of the four.

With another jolt the lantern’s chain extended, and Sevt swung it over his head to repel the audible advances of all the shadows behind and around their boat. They hit a rock, taking flight before crashing back down onto the water’s surface.

We’re reaching shallows.

Another scraped the side, flooding the deck. The boards of the boat were breaking and splintering away, and Aurora’s prayers had been replaced by screams. Quin’s boot kicked Sevt in the chin.

Why must we suffer so to make it?

The cold inhuman waters embraced Sevt’s back and filled his lungs. He thrust the staff ahead to keep it alight as the bow demon dove to avoid the heat, and the shores rushed into view. They broke against the rocks, and Sevt felt his healing ribs crack once again, a sharp pain hitting his jaw. He gasped for air as the waters dissolved from his body, swirling and splashing around him. Without a second thought Sevt propped himself up on his foot with the staff, flailing the lantern around in a daze.

“Back…”

He coughed blood.

“Back… bastards.”

He heard them rushing and closing in, like a roaring river current.

The creek by the house…

Sevt put down his head and leaned on the staff, emptying his mind. He could not hear nor see where the others had gone.

“You have strayed from those you tried to save…”

“With a reckless, careless plan…”

His thoughts were quieting.

“Steady your mind, Aurora! Quin…! Wherever you are don’t let them in…!”

Pull yourself together and don’t let them in.

It almost sounded like a prayer. The waters rushed and receded where he stood. Cold. Roaring and receding.

Lifting his head and looking around, Sevt saw waves on a gravelled shore coming and going. Coming and going. He saw the rocks that had smashed their boat into pieces. One of the huskies was being used as support by Aurora struggling back onto her feet.

“You’re alive. Quinart!”

Sevt surveyed his surroundings, forgetting his loss of a leg and falling onto the ground, his staff clattering towards a slumbering Quin.

“Old man.” Sevt crawled over to him who awoke with a start, making the other sigh with relief, “Anything hurt? Tell us what hurts.”

“What the fuck were you doing?”

Sevt was flipped and pushed against the rocks, spit flying into his face.

“You were so willing to sacrifice me to further our escape? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I didn’t… sacrifice anyone. I was saving us all. My hand was on you where yours is now on myself.”

Quin shoved the other away, limping towards Aurora who mentioned something about a snap she had felt in her arm. The angered waves were restoring back to the ringwoodite calm Sevt had known since seeing the underground ocean for the first time. What remained of the boat lay scattered around them. Their demons had proved no different than the one in the commune; they lost all power and interest when nothing stoked their fire.

Quin had been knocked out, and Aurora, supposedly, continued to pray.

It was unclear how it affected the dogs, if at all. Rolling back onto his front, Sevt was met with a Laika nigh torn in two against the jutting rocks up ahead. It barked no more. Another few feet and their company might have suffered the same fate against the terrain. Reaching his arm to its limit Sevt grabbed the staff and raised it over the floor. A gaping cavern, its ground at an incline, was in the wall ahead. Despite the darkness they had faced and endured, the man felt a warmth in his chest he had not felt since the dancing lights had graced the skies again following his rescue by Quin.

“We made it. Against all odds we made it.”

“And what’s the plan now, smart one? What of the other mushers and the ‘trail of oil and fat’ that will lead them nowhere?”

There was fear and anger in the eyes of those looking at Sevt.

He unclipped the lantern from its chain and, limping with his staff across the shore, placed it among the high rocks.

“A shore light that never fades. In darkness like this they should see it where the buoys had stopped yesterday. We’ll use the sconces to illuminate our way to the surface. The dancing lights will guide us from there.”

I don't want to leave it behind, but it's the least I can do now until the mushers catch up. If they do at all.

Quin watched the flickering flame from afar for a while.

“You’re to know now that nothing awaits us on the surface.”

It felt like a blow to the gut though Sevt knew not what it meant.

“What could you mean? And if I believe what it is that you say, you didn’t think of telling me this before?”

“We had no choice. Just know that there’s nothing.”

~~~~~

A blizzard unending roared past the Mountain Wall which no person could cross. Braving the chaos of a ringwoodite sea and struggling up a cavern for two days lead only to nothing. Sharp, relentless, and unforgiving, the winds could shred the unprepared over several days until only bones were left. Those too would be pulverised in time.

This is what the commune feared.

Through the storm no dancing lights could yet be seen, and with an eternal polar night and a barren of packed ice and snow, flat and unchanging unto each horizon, there were no landmarks to speak of. They must have passed the mountains themselves days ago. Sevt’s face was already bleeding.

“What do we do now?” Aurora’s voice was overpowered by the rush in their ears.

What can we do now…?

On either side of the mountains, there was nowhere to go.

Faith, guide me.