Glass Winter | Chapter VII

Figures materialised on a white horizon, some two hundred yards from the mouth of the cavern. From this distance it would be impossible to make out the trench wall of snow concealed by the blizzard, nor what lay behind it. By the time Sevt and company were seen and directed to the encampment the winds had shredded enough, and the huskies were too weak to stand. Quin had shielded Aurora behind his back from most of it while his own face bled, and Sevt suffered a similar, albeit graver, injury while leaping behind the rest with a shard of the wrecked punt as a cane.

He heard genial exchanges and outcries before approaching the wall of snow, six feet high, and saw Quin embracing some of the many men and women who were waiting for them. He had been recognised, and they in turn. Sevt felt a weight lift off his chest.

People.

There were so many. Of all heights and sizes. And the sound of overlapping voices he had never expected to recall through experience again. The air felt lighter to breathe.

People of the commune.

The ones that left for the mountains and their promise while the rest had stayed behind without hope. They were here. Small fires burned within a vast open snowfield consisting of quinzhees and what looked like stairs within leading underground.

They said nothing to him, but that was expected as the stranger that he was. Sevt noticed how one of the men broke off a hushed conversation with another, and made his way past the assembly and out of sight.

“You were abroad when it happened, Quin. In the fray we hadn’t the time to wait for anyone else. Mal led us into the mountains while Sowne stayed behind.”

She was a woman of frigid disposition, with pearly hair and skin that seemed almost translucent. Her eyes glowed like light under ice.

“Any of the other mushers come with you, by chance?”

“Yowl and Tear were out just as you were. Some others stayed and some came with us.”

The men that had noticed Sevt and his company from afar held angler rods and picks, but proceeded to seal the snow wall behind them as of the new development. Sevt caught a glimpse of the frozen hills from which they had emerged, before the vista was obstructed. There were indeed no mountains to speak of.

We’d rowed so far on that sea.

“Who’s this?”

His eyes were dark. His shoulders carried a tangled mantle of amalgamated animal furs, and his own pale hair was pulled tight from his scalp into a lock. His was a weathered visage, and men of equally hard countenance accompanied him in an arrow that naturally dispersed the residents of the encampment.

He indicated at Sevt, who heard Quin over his shoulder.

“Somebody I picked up in the barrens.”

“What’s he doing here?”

Such paranoia for a formerly open commune.

“Much like yourselves, gentlemen—”

“Hey.” Dark Eyes held a finger to Sevt, “Nobody’s speaking to you.”

“Yet we’re justifying my presence—”

“One more word.”

“Sowne, please,” Quin placed a hand on Dark Eyes’ shoulder only for it to be pushed away a moment after.

“Who did you bring with you?”

“Does it matter? He saved us, more than once.” Quin pulled Aurora to his side.

“With a leg like that?”

The wound had reopened in Sevt’s stump after reaching the shore. Quin had done his best to fix him new wraps with what they could find following the wreckage, though he could do little to help the man’s broken ribs. Aurora’s shattered arm was supported with a makeshift cast of the remaining bandages and splintered wood from the boat. Quin’s ribs were also an issue, though he had refused any treatment, what little could be done, from Sevt.

“Now why would I lie, Sowne?” The musher pressed against his own area of injury, “There were difficulties in crossing the ringwoodite sea—”

“I can tell. Lower the scruff of your coat, as you did now.”

Quin had moved his hand away from his side, which had pulled on the coat in question. Sowne stepped forward and tugged at the collar to an audible disturbance amongst those that were watching.

“This the difficulties you mean?”

Quin pulled away, concealing the decaying bruise on his throat. Sowne approached again, and Sevt saw him inspecting marks down Quin’s shoulder and back before letting him go.

“This is substantial, old man.”

So, it wasn’t a question of trust. You were hiding whatever that is when I offered to help.

“You ask why I think you would lie.” Sowne removed his now contaminated gloves and tossed them into the fire, “Because we thought you were dead. And now you’re here with a cripple.”

Sevt fell to the snow as his cane was kicked away. He heard scattered murmurs.

They’ll just allow that?

“Ho, then, what’s the deal—?”

His jaw clacked in a bloody blow to the cheek from an unseen boot.

“One more word. How’ve you come so far with only one leg, then, eh?”

My cane…

Sevt saw it clatter and leave the ground as it was confiscated. The boot pushed against his chest, turning the man onto his back.

“This isn’t a way to treat a cri—”

He screamed as the impact landed on his already shattered ribs. He heard Quin’s interjections and the shuffling of feet across snow as Sowne walked away.

“The girl’s not staying here. She’s a curse.”

“What do you mean? You can’t leave her out in the storm, she’s only a child!”

More cries and movement.

“She’s a curse and you know it, Quin. God, I don’t even know what you are. Or you.”

Sevt winced as the boot returned to press on his injury followed by the switch of a cold blade nicking his ear.

“You bring a corrupted child into our camp; the bruises on your mate say malevolent spirits have accosted him. Why is that the case? It’s not as if his very presence dictates their arrival, is it?”

Sevt heard Quin from somewhere in the crowd, “The Smiling Bastard was already there when we arrived! It was of no fault of our own! And the things in the sea… Sevt saved us from them. They came for me but he used it against them! We would never have crossed otherwise!”

“You’re sure of all of this, are you?”

Silence.

“No, but of course this ‘smiling bastard’ was waiting. Question is why did it remain in the commune when its work was already done?”

Sevt speech was locked behind a clamped jaw he could not open, “He was searching for… Aurora.”

“The child’s not human, fool.”

Another nick on the ear.

“It would have no interest in waiting for her. Nor any other child born of that commune.”

“And yet there were… parents and children hanged in your plaza. Why should she be the exception?”

“Why should the spirits of the ringwoodite sea have pursued you and Quin, so…?”

Don’t dodge the question, bastard.

“…and you were willing to sacrifice Quin’s life so as to make it to the other end of the shore?”

That was never the intention.

“Somebody you suspect attracts spirits regardless. Why should you care—?”

Sevt’s right cheek was gashed.

“Because you’re a lying, desperate bastard who’s blind enough to sabotage our new commune with no regard for anyone but yourself. And we’ve come too far. Something a green drop cannot understand.”

In a blur the blade moved from Sevt’s face down to his amputated leg. Dark Eyes dug into the wound, and Sevt was held down by others as he flailed.

“Unlike yourself, cripple man, we hope to one day see the glass castle. We’re going to see daylight before heavy bastards like yourself pull us down with you.”

Sowne flipped the blade in his hand and readied to strike at Sevt’s chest before something caught his eye up ahead. He sheathed the knife and rose to his feet as the other men let go of their captive. Sevt felt a tail brush past the open wound on his cheek, and two narrow yellow eyes watched him from a silent feline mug. It scampered in an instant as a pair of heavier boots on ice approached and Sevt felt a new pair of hands jerk him onto his foot. Someone’s beard bristled against his neck as they examined his feeble body, before handing him off to gentler arms.

“The man’s barely moving; what from the winds and his leg. We can question him further after he’s sheltered.”

“I’m not letting him anywhere near the encampments, Mal. Not with the stories he’s brought—”

“We had problems of our own crossing the Mountain Wall, Sowne. If him or his friends are a threat they’ll make that known tonight.”

“You’re staking the lives of everyone here to prove somethin’ of these three? And their fucking huskies?”

The world was darkening.

I need to rest.

“Hey, hurry up with him—”

There were shuffles and an overall din from the surrounding men and women.

“Back off, now, Sowne. We’ll hide under if worse comes to worst.”

“They’re not dropping anyone off anymore. They haven’t for years. Why’s he suddenly dropped into the barren and we’re meant to look the other way? Are you hearin’ yourself?”

So much pain…

~~~~~

A spit was crackling under the open night sky in the corner of what must have been an outer communal dining area. A ring of snow six feet tall encircled the five men who rested on caribou skins, digging and tearing into salmon and cod, voracious. Quin’s mouth watered at the sight of the fish but his body recoiled from those who were eating, with their juices trickling down and off their chins, their eyes nigh inhuman. Despite his hunger his insides churned with disgust.

“Your friend’s housed elsewhere,” Sowne watched those surrounding him eat but, like his guest, touched nothing himself, “Think of him as under the thumb of the new commune chief Mal Fallen. He chats with him and I chat with you. And he shares something with the broken one, you know?”

“Does he know I’m here?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The winds, though incessant and violent behind the wall, showed not a gust within the enclosure. The survivors had made themselves a comfortable home.

“Can’t remember much of it himself, but Mal claims he was, quite literally, tossed into the barren from a great height. Must have been one dangerous man for those that left him here to be treated as such. His legs were broken, and like a seal without water he had to feed off the fucking earth while he crawled his way to… well not even he knew. You don’t know this story?”

Quin shook his head.

“Exactly. You lived in the commune equal to him, and now he’s your captor. To top it all off, he was saved, much like you claim to have saved your Sevt, after gatherers, one of whom would become his bae, found him inching through the woods. Mended his legs, gave him a roof and two sons, and now he’s led the revolt. Him and I. But… it’s such a close story to yours and your Sevt’s, I can’t comprehend, help me here, why you should adopt it, feign ignorance and lie about it, while aiding someone who’s of no interest to anyone here.”

Quin glanced at the spit, unattended in the corner, but shed his hunger.

“I… didn’t lie. I lost everything after I returned to a desolate reminder of what my shining light of a people once were. I was a target from then on for… whatever they were that pursued us. You can’t blame me for that, surely, Sowne.”

“You remember me?”

“We might have spoken once. Everybody knows everyone in the commune through one connection or another.”

“So, they did. You’ll have time enough to notice, as well, that not a single soul in this encampment attracts any of the demons that you’ve attracted. And those marks on your back… they tell a story.”

They itched when mentioned.

“Perhaps some food on your tongue will loosen it. Bring her over here.” Sowne motioned to the two on his left who, abandoning their meals, stood up and walked over to the spit, hacking at the roasted animal.

They brought it over, tossing paw and limb into Quin’s lap. A four-toed paw.

“Ah…”

His body trembled as he ran a finger along the golden calf muscle of the beast. Quin threw the appendage away.

“Ahh… ahh…”

The head and neck were at Sowne’s feet. He gnashed at the meat, pushing a fang between his lips and spitting it onto the snow.

“Ahh…! AHH…!! ARGHH…!”

Quin stumbled to his feet and away from the dining five. He was restrained by unseen hands and prevented from leaving. He could only watch Sowne relishing the cooked husky.

“Visceral enough to recall the events of the commune and the ringwoodite sea. It would be beneficial to all for you to share everything you know about the latecomer Sevt. You know as well as we do that his drop, independent of everyone else’s by several years, is too conspicuous to ignore.”

~~~~~

“It’s a cruel tactic, Sowne.”

“The cat’s been a nuisance with the fish stores for a while, Mal. At the rate we’re able to catch them everyone’s better off without the pet. Besides at that distance Quin might have seen that the thing was too small to be one of his dogs. A closer look at my dish and he would have seen the cat ears—”

“Did you get what you wanted from him, at least?”

Sowne narrowed his eyes, “Quin’s the sensitive type. He might get defensive or shut down, but that never lasts. He starts talking real well following inconvenience or… a tragedy. And the story checks out.”

Mal raised his brow.

Sowne nodded, “Sevt’s a problem, is what. Nearly sacrificed the rest of his company just to make it across the sea. But when it comes to his origins… Quin, honestly, couldn’t say.”

“And yet he left his staff behind for the remaining mushers to cross with a light source. It’s more than we ever did.”

“That’s yet to be confirmed. I’ve sent some of the lads to look into it, they’ll return in a few days.”

“Still,” Mal nodded, “He could have waited. With willpower like his, there’s a chance the ‘smiling bastard’ would have left them alone ‘till the rest returned to the commune. There are more factors at play here.”

“Like what?”

“Error under pressure.” Mal drank from a tusk, “He had only been in the barrens and the vale for a week. Human nature pushed them forward, and it caused their mistakes. It’s what caused the miasma of doubt that’d attract the demons to their boat. Our company tries to move forward and not stop and think. Perhaps Sevt and his allies suffer from overthought.”

“Plenty of assumptions, Mal. No, at this rate only time will tell who they really are.”

“Well at least you’re coming around.” Mal looked at the other, “I wouldn’t have started with violence until we were surer. The marks on Quin’s neck and back mean little to nothing without context.”

“Now you critique my methods again. Would you have chosen me if not for my will back at the commune to co-direct this expedition? I don’t back down from the cruel and the ugly,” Sowne’s finger ran down the length of the blade at his side, “I face it head on, no matter the cost to myself, because I believe in the cause. You don’t choose a man like that and regret it after, Mal.”

“We’re not under threat, Sowne.”

“We are under threat until we make it home. This place gives you no guarantee, and with this storm we can’t see the lights.”

He poured himself a tusk of lichen tea and paced the room.

“You’re making me want to tell the others of your ‘guidance’.”

Mal scratched his beard, “You will not.”

“They’ll know you’re not a prophet. Sooner or later.”

“Everyone is a prophet in this place. I’m feeding them only half the truth for the time being, they’re not to know where we’re at or they’ll scatter and panic.”

“Yes, you lie to them. Call it poisoned honey or what have you, but that’s what it is.”

“It’s not yet time for them to know—”

“You don’t play God with people’s faith. Only God does.” Sowne traced the rim of the tankard, “Nobody dreams willingly, not even you. I suggest we tell them that visions cannot be summoned by order and proceed as I have laid out.”

“Wandering out onto the ice.” Mal slowly rubbed his hands together, “We’d be going out blindly.”

“Now here’s where real faith is founded, Mal. Because we won’t be blind. We’d have the fish and the water under our feet, and, sooner or later, we’d walk out of the storm, or unto a rise from the earth. Sooner or later, we’d see the lights again. When that happens, we will no longer be lost.”

“We’d be risking fatal injury from the wind, even with makeshift moving shelters to obstruct us from cuts. Besides as our stores prove… food is a luxury out here.”

“It’s better than blind faith, Mal. There’s a difference between taking action on a notion, and waiting it out with no certainty of better days to come. As ever, I’m ready to take the blow. However that may play out.”

Mal looked up to see Sowne standing with open arms.

“I may be a brute. But I’ve got us this far.”

“That’s what concerns me, Sowne.”

“Come now. You’re willing to die for this expedition, that’s what you’ve told me.”

“I’m willing to die protecting those that I love, I am.”

“And I’m willing to die fighting for those that I love, Mal. We don’t use them. Not like some.”

Sowne’s eyes drifted to the far resting room, where Sevt’s foot could be seen. Mal stood up.

“We have time to think. Don’t be like him. Impulsivity has ended harder men than you or I.”

“He can’t be trusted. The girl is a curse, and now Quin too. If ever there was a time to act, it would be now. Don’t pull us down, Mal. Do I have to beg? Because I won’t.”

The other chuckled, “Oh, I know.”

“You claim to know much. Do you recall these ‘harder men’ from another life?”

Neither spoke.

“I’m finding it harder to remember arriving at the commune, don’t you?” Sowne made for the turn in the dugout and the stairs leading out, “If we stay here, and you want to stay here, we’ll soon forget why we came this far in the first place.”

Mal was alone in the room. He glanced at Sevt. The man was breathing.

Should I scorn you for wanting to live as Sowne scorns you?

He was to give him a chance. For everyone in the new commune. The winds howled evermore up above.