Bard: Chapter 13

They were a smaller party moving forward the next day. A good half of the volunteers had woken up with some degree of frostbite, right down to blackening toes and fingertips. After conferring with the captain, these stayed behind at the village with the supplies and all but one wagon and pair of horses. Liam, Laura, and all the rest were armored with everything they had that night protect them from the cold. The horses pulling their single wagon were draped with blankets, tarps, and anything else that could fit over the beasts to protect them from the winds.

The captain looked grim leading them into the frozen forest that stretched in front of them. Beneath the trees, the wind got worse, if anything. The snow had a crust of ice on top so thick even the horses could walk on it. It was sturdy, but slick, and their pace was agonizingly slow. Liam tied his hood up again, and kept his arms stuffed inside his coat, clasping his warming dagger and turning a shoulder into the wind to try and take some of the cut off his face. Laura walked backwards into the gale, Travis did the same. Trista had a scarf wrapped around the lower part of her face, but otherwise her head was bare, her dark hair whipping in the wind.

She held her violin against her front, wrapped in a piece of tarp instead of in its case. Every time someone cried out, either in pain, or shock from a slip on the ice, she flinched like she’d been struck.

“You alright?” he asked, falling in beside her. She nodded stiffly.

“There’s a lot going on,” she said, her voice tight. “And there’s something wrong with the wind.”

“Wrong how?”

“It’s…” she hesitated, grimaced, and shook her head. “The air doesn’t…smell right? It’s not…I don’t know.”

“I’m surprised you can smell anything,” Liam commented. “It’s too cold.”

“It’s…It’s sort of…I…” Trista sighed and shook her head again. “I don’t know how to say it properly, but it’s not from here.”

“Body!” One of the scouts shouted from up ahead, and a jolt went through the party. Liam met Laura’s eyes and she looked grim. He sorely wished he could have talked her into staying back.

The medic rushed forward, as did everyone else. The body wasn’t human though, once the snow was brushed aside it turned out to be a wild boar, stuck in crusted ice and frozen solid.

“Gods,” someone muttered. “It looks like an ice sculpture.”

“Hope we don’t find the others like that,” another said, too loudly. A worried murmur passed through the party. The medic shuddered and stood, kicking snow back over the boar and waving them all off.

An hour later they reached a wooden bridge that crossed a narrow river, frozen solid like everything else. The river had surged upwards in crystalline spikes the same way the bay had. The shards jutted outwards away from the wind, like a line of spears facing against the oncoming excursion. Liam shuddered at the sight. It was too much like a living thing trying to prevent the from moving forwards.

“Careful on the bridge,” the captain called out needlessly, as if anyone would walk idly across that death trap. Liam moved closer between Laura and Trista, freeing his hands and altering his gait so he was less likely to slip.

“What in the hells is this?” one of the women near the front cried out. As they watched, the ice on the bridge rails grew outward, forming even more glittering spikes thick enough to skewer a man.

“Just like the bay,” Travis muttered behind him.

“Just like the bay,” Liam agreed. He shivered, gratefully stepping off onto the far shore. The crusted snow gave way under his feet, sinking him into icy powder up to his waist.

He cried out as the cold shocked into him. The feeling akin to being dumped in a frozen lake. Laura ran to him, laying down on her stomach to spread out her weight before heaving him back up onto the hard crust of ice that covered the snow.

“Thank you,” he groaned.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, pushing herself upright. Liam tried his best to dust the snow off his legs but it had already crusted and frozen stiff to him. It would just have to break off as they walked.

He wasn’t the only one who had fallen through. At least two others were being hauled out of the snow that he could see, and one of the wagon’s wheels had broken through as well, locking the wagon in place and sending sickening cracks into the wind. Travis had gone down on all fours, trying to spread his weight out as he moved slowly forward, the icy splintering beneath him.

“We need to turn back!” someone shouted into the wind.

“There’s no way the others survived!”

“We need to find what’s causing this!” another roared. “Or it will only get worse!

“They’re not dead,” Trista said beside him. Her voice was loud enough to carry to him but he doubted the others could hear her.

“What?”

“The others, the first team, they’re not dead,” she said, an edge in her voice. “They’re terrified, and in pain,” she grimaced, “and not far ahead.”

“Turn back!” someone shouted at the captain.

“We’re nearly there!” Trista shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth and projecting her voice over all of them. “They’re not far!”

“How the hell can you tell?” someone shouted. It was getting harder to pick faces out in the slashing snow.

The wagon lurched forward, and a crack like thunder split the howling wind as the wheel dragged a jagged maw through the ice, splitting the surface they stood on and dumping everyone into a crevice of powdered snow beneath.

It sucked them in like quicksand, swirling and shifting like water, the heavy chunks of frozen snow pinning them down as well as a stone would. Liam tumbled into the powder, a bolder sized chunk of ice knocking the wind out of him and pinning him to the freezing ground.

Cries pierced the wind, and Liam’s view was overtaken by the snow. He batted the powder away from his face and it cascaded over him again. Grunting with the effort, he forced himself into a sitting position, but the ice weighed on his chest like a vice, holding him in the powder sink he had fallen into.

“If we get stuck here, we’re going to die!” one of the men screamed, and was met with a chorus of shouts and cries for help. There was no movement above him. They were all stuck.

Just like the boar, Liam thought, pushing helplessly at the boulder of ice that pinned him down. The wind was already dumping more snow into the pit he had made when he fell, threatening to cover his face. He sputtered, waving the snow away and struggling to keep his head up.

Panic gripped him, the undeniable horror of knowing you’ll drown, of feeling the weight bearing down on you and watching the water rise and being powerless to stop it. He howled, in rage and fear, pushing against the ice with all his might but it wouldn’t budge. He heard Laura’s shout nearby and prayed to any gods that might be listening that she wasn’t trapped, that she could climb back onto the ice and escape.

He felt Trista’s magic before he heard the violin. Amongst the shouting panic and the cutting winds, he suddenly felt warm, whole, strong enough to pull himself out. He pushed against the bolder and the ice crumbled under his hands.

The music grew louder, low and clear, fighting against the winds that buffeted them but getting through nonetheless. He moved to push himself out of the snow and found he didn’t have to, the crusted surface was rapidly dissolving, along with the powder underneath. In moments a path had been carved through the snow around the excursion team, inching forward into the forest. Liam found himself sitting on a muddy path, rivulets of melted snow draining around him.

Trista moved through them, and the song filled him up like a mug of hot cider. Liam pushed himself up, warm and rested like he hadn’t felt in weeks. All around him, the others let out sighs and laughs of relief, watching in wonder as she passed by. A few of them even reached out to brush their fingers against her robe, eyes wide. The captain shot a glance at Laura.

“You could have mentioned she’s a bleeding mage,” he snapped, and Laura shrugged. “Alright, follow the bard forward,” he commanded, and everyone fell in behind Trista.

The way forward was much easier with the wind and cold held at bay by the music, and the path clearing as they approached it. Trista played them through, her expression fixed into one of terrified determination. Liam stayed close behind, keeping an eye on the other members of the party. They were all happy with this development now, but mages were rare, and not always well regarded. It was better they think her a magician than a demon, but it was a mighty risk she’d taken.

The forest opened up. A broad ring of trees and shrubs lay broken and covered in snow. The wind howled louder, pounding at them like a giant’s fist.

“What is that thing?” Laura shouted, pointing forward. At the center of the clearing, set in the air right at eye level was something that flashed and glittered with each new gust of wind.

“It’s a gemstone!” one of the men cried in response.

“Bloody enormous gemstone,” Travis commented.

“Bloody magical gemstone,” Laura amended.

There was a cry, just barely audible over the wind as they stepped into the clearing, and Liam searched for its source. The ground was uneven, and more splinters of ice jutted out of the frozen snow, along with other, discolored pillars of ice. At first glance he thought they might be statues, but the cry came from one of them.

“They’re people,” Trista called back to the party. “Help them.”

Liam scrambled over the snow to the nearest icy pillar—a person, frozen solid. They were encased in ice as the boar had been, with just their shoulders and head left exposed to the biting air. Their hair and eyes were rime frosted, and their lips had turned black, but they called out just the same.

“Gods,” they rasped out as Liam appeared in front of him. “Help, please…please.”

“We’ve got you,” Liam said, though he had no idea how to help a person encased in ice. The rest of the party had dispersed, rushing to the aid of the other trapped people. Trista stood just inside the clearing, playing the violin to keep them warm and clear the ground. “Trista!”

She turned, but the music was already doing its work. The ice covering the man began to crack and melt away. The man wept with relief.

Then, abruptly, the music stopped. Trista’s gaze turned skyward.

Something dropped from the sky, right on top of her, screaming out in a piercing shriek of rage as it hit the ground, sending up a cloud of powdered snow and a gust of biting ice. The frozen man cried out in anguish and Liam turned his back to take the brunt of the cold, turning back with a shout, his swords already in his hands.

“Trista!” Liam shouted. She didn’t reply, and he couldn’t see her in the snow.

The creature crouched over her was bigger than the horses, frost-white, and covered in deadly, jagged shards of ice that glittered in the pale light.

The dragon turned its frigid blue gaze on them, threw back its head, and roared.