City of Ice (17 page)

Scirye had seen bears before, but they had always been dull creatures caged in a zoo, with no more animation than furry cushions. So it had been a thrill at first to see a bear in his natural home, running and leaping with such power and grace—perhaps moving with less grace than the dragon but with more vitality.

As lithe as Bayang was, there was never any wasted motion in what she did. Whether fighting or flying, she never seemed to move without some intelligent calculation beforehand.

The bear, on the other hand, was as restless as an Arctic wind, prowling about, testing the air, glancing about. And when he attacked, he struck with the violence and force of a hurricane.

Though Scirye and her friends had taken many risks while they were pursuing Roland, nothing had seemed quite as brave or foolhardy to her as the bear's battle against overwhelming odds. Her amazement had turned to admiration as he fought the freebooters and the Ajumaq with such determination and courage that she had felt like cheering.

That had soon changed to shock when she saw the bear's ferocity in battle—she'd only caught a glimpse of the earlier fight with the freebooters.

And shock gave way to fear when it was only her friends left facing the bear.

It was her precious Kles who had her the most worried, because when the battle madness had seized him he would fight creatures a hundred times his size. So she was grateful when Upach managed to get Kles to withdraw with Leech to Bayang's side as she lay in the snow.

When the ifrit flowed back up the cliff and onto the top, Scirye thanked her.

Upach's smoky form floated by her mistress, her dusky shape vibrating as if she were shivering. “I could smell their madness.”

Their? Did she mean Leech?
Scirye wondered. She hadn't seen any outward signs like with Kles. Leech had fought hard, of course, but that was to survive. Upach must be mistaken.

The bear was pacing back and forth at one end of the clearing, staring at her friends as if he were at a buffet and deciding which one he was going to have first for dinner.

“This could go on for forever,” Scirye said.

“You're right.” Roxanna leaned her rifle against some baskets and held up her empty hands as she called, “We greet you, Lord of the North.”

The bear only growled menacingly.

“Humph, that's gratitude for you,” Koko grumbled.

“After encountering Roland's troops, can you blame him for mistrusting humans?” Scirye asked.

“Well, what do we do?” Roxanna asked, frustrated.

Scirye had hated to be a spectator while her friends battled for their lives, but perhaps, as she was the daughter of a diplomat, there was something she could do now. Her mother often said sometimes it was harder to end a battle than to fight one.

“Leech,” Scirye shouted, beckoning him over, “take me down there so I can talk.”

“Leech, you'll do no such thing,” Bayang ordered.

“I can't negotiate when I'm yelling at the top of my lungs,” Scirye replied. “It's dumb for us to fight with one another instead of against our real enemy Roland.”

“But Lady—,” Kles tried to protest.

Scirye cut him off with a gesture. “I'm going and that's that, Kles—even if I have to jump off the cliff to get there.”

The griffin knew that tone all too well. It had gotten them into more trouble than he liked to think. “Please, Lady. Stay up there. Let me handle the bear.”

“He eyed you like you were a flying snack,” Scirye said, and beckoned to Leech. “Please, Leech.”

As the boy began to fly up toward the cliff top, Bayang said, “Leech, do what I say.”

Leech shrugged. “I think she's right. Why should we fight the bear?”

Roxanna picked up her rifle again, ready to set the butt against her shoulder and snap off a shot. “I'll keep an eye on him from up here, or for any more of Roland's men sneaking up on us.”

The battle seemed to have finished restoring her confidence, because she sounded as sure and capable as ever.

“Then I know I'll be safe,” Scirye said.

Roxanna smiled her pleased acknowledgment and then went back to surveying the landscape for threats.

When Leech reached the cliff's edge, he swung around, presenting his back to her. “Here's the taxi, Lady. Hop on. The meter's running.” As she climbed on, he wobbled immediately at the change in weight.

Alarmed, Kles darted in to steady them with his forepaws, but he wound up overcompensating so that Leech and Scirye tilted even more to the side.

“Aim for the snowbank,” was Koko's advice.

Somehow Leech managed to regain his balance, and then, with the persistent little griffin helping, they descended like a leaf in a hurricane.

Scirye swayed a bit when she got off, and the ever-attentive Kles flew about her, brushing stray snowflakes from her clothing.

Leech glanced at the bear. “I don't think he cares how neat and tidy his dinner is.”

Down in the clearing, the scent of blood was much thicker than on the cliff, and she did her best to hide the fact that it was making her a little sick. Waving her hand, Scirye shooed Leech and Kles away. “We don't want to make him more nervous. You can keep an eye on me from the air.”

Leech rose, hovering several yards above her, but Kles settled on her shoulder and sank his claws lightly into her clothes. “My place is with you,” he insisted.

In the snow, Bayang struggled to her feet, wincing as she folded her injured wing against her back, and then moved to block Scirye's progress.

Her friend's concern touched Scirye and she put a hand affectionately against the dragon's armored cheek. “Does it hurt much?”

“Some,” Bayang admitted. She glanced at her back, wincing as she tested her injured wing. “But I don't think I'll be flying until that heals.”

As soon as the dragon had turned away, Scirye had started to run—or more like jog, because the snow slowed her.

“Come back here!” Bayang said, reaching out with a paw.

Scirye jumped to the side and then continued to head straight toward the bear.

When he snarled at her, exposing wickedly sharp fangs, Scirye's legs went all wobbly so that she stumbled.

“You'll get yourself killed!” Bayang yelled, the worry plain in her voice, but that only spurred Scirye on.

Throwing out her arms to the sides, Scirye managed to get her balance as she staggered on. As she righted herself, she tugged the stiletto and axe from her belt and threw them down. Then she held up her empty palms. “We…we come in peace,” she panted.

She gave a jump when the bear reared up to his full height. There was so much of him! He had looked imposing enough when seen from above. Up close, he was downright terrifying. He towered over her like a white furry mountain. A growling furry mountain…with big claws.

Her legs suddenly turned to jelly, and she plopped backward onto the snow. As she sat on her rump gazing up at him, the bear seemed even more gigantic. When people saw bears in the zoo, it was easy to think that humans had tamed Nature, but they were only fooling themselves. Away from their cities, humans were lunches who very considerately delivered themselves to the animal diners.

Kles had instinctively flown into the air when Scirye had fallen. He hovered overhead now, his claws aimed at the bear, prepared to leap to her defense. There wasn't an ounce of fear in his small body.

“Why,” the bear rumbled in a voice like boulders rumbling down a hill, “have you invaded my territory?”

The bear exuded a massive sense of power. Pele had been as quick, loud, and explosive as the volcanoes she ruled, a strength that was rooted in the fiery heart of the earth. The bear's temper was as deep, slow, and relentless as a glacier grinding mountains into pebbles.

Pele was quick to fight, but she had no patience. Draw out the struggle and she might lose interest. The bear, on the other hand, would be slow to quarrel, but once he did he would not stop until he had crushed his enemies.

Though she was frightened, Scirye made herself concentrate on his eyes. She didn't see the all-consuming hate that had been in the hag's eyes, but she didn't see any friendliness either.

“Gee, sorry, mister. We didn't know this was your front yard,” Koko yelled. “Come on, kids,” the badger said, waving urgently for them to retreat. “Let's not annoy the nice critter.”

“Critter, am I?” the bear roared.

When she felt the violent energy radiating from him, Scirye wished that she had listened to Bayang and hidden behind the dragon. It was as if that terrible Arctic storm had condensed into the shape of the bear—and that furry hide could barely contain the rage of its destructive force.

But then Scirye saw Kles's fur beginning to fluff outward—not to be cute but as a sign of anger—and she heard the faint hum of Leech's rings as he spiraled close, ready to snatch her up and escape.

Her friends' presence reassured her and she bowed her head respectfully to the bear, finding it a relief not to look at him. Then she did her best to imitate her mother when she was calming down hostile foreign officials—or French waiters, whom she said were even more dangerous.

“We mean you no disrespect, Lord,” Scirye said, her voice sounding strained and shrill to her own ears. “We are hunting our enemies, a human called Roland and a dragon.”

“Don't be a worm. Stand up on your hind legs,” the bear commanded.

Though Scirye's legs were still trembling, she rose, but the difference in their heights was so great that she was already getting a stiff neck from tilting her head back to face the bear.

“How did you get here?” the bear demanded.

“In Hawaii, we fought the enemies of the goddess Pele. In return, she helped us to get to the Arctic,” Scirye said nervously. “She'll vouch for us.”

The bear growled menacingly. “You and a goddess? I hate liars.”

Scirye's protective charm was hanging around her neck. Opening her coat, she pulled out the black flower that Pele had shaped from molten lava as if it were child's clay. “The goddess gave each of us one of these to keep us warm.”

The bear stretched out a broad forepaw, the claws looking like daggers, and Scirye could not keep from flinching.

“Stay where you are, dragon,” the bear growled to Bayang, who was trying to advance to Scirye's side. “This conversation is between me and this human cub.” Then he addressed the Kushan girl again, the amusement…and the challenge…plain in his voice. “When you're shaking like a lemming, it's hard to see how you could help a goddess.”

Scirye's eyes were focused on the large talons hovering before her face. “Um, no,” she said in a quavery voice. “But who
wouldn't
be scared of you if they had any sense?”

She was puzzled when she heard a chugging sound like an old truck motor and even more confused when she realized it was the bear's laughter. Setting his paws on his hips, he conceded, “Yes, I guess I'd be frightened of me too.” And then he actually winked. “In fact, I quake in terror every time I see my reflection on the ice.”

His broad, round jowls stretched in a good-natured smile. At the moment, he seemed less like a dangerous beast and more like a large teddy bear with extra padding around his middle.

“Please, Lord, examine the charm.” Despite the claws in front of her, Scirye extended the charm toward them.

The bear held his forepaw a few inches above it. “Yes,” he said in surprise, “I feel the magic coming from it, but not who put it there.” He lifted the paw up and scratched a jowl. “How can I be sure that the trinket came from Pele and not Roland?”

The injustice stung the girl. “My friend got hurt trying to help you.”

The bear dismissed that fact with a clack of his claws. “How do I know that you're not more of Roland's worms and this whole battle was staged to gain my gratitude?”

That was a deadly insult to Scirye and to Tumarg itself.

“We're no friends of Roland,” she protested. “He killed my sister and this boy's friend.” She motioned toward Leech. “We're here to get even with him and to get back the treasures he stole from my people and from Pele.”

Kles dipped his head politely as he hovered. “They are the ring and bowstring of the archer Yi. We think Roland may have come up here seeking a third treasure that once belonged to him.”

The bear's head jerked up, startled, and for a moment Scirye thought he knew something. In a low voice so the freebooter prisoners wouldn't hear, she said, “Have you heard of such a thing up here?”

The bear swung his head to the side so abruptly that it was Scirye's turn to be surprised. His black, moist nostrils widened as he tested the breeze and then his body stiffened. “I can smell more of Roland's lice coming.” The bear curled his lip scornfully. “There are always some fools who hear that phantoms are protecting an ancient treasure in the Wastes and come here to find it.”

Kles added, “Whether Yi's relic is here or not, Roland thinks it is. And he won't stop looking for it.”

“We have to stop them from getting any more of Yi's artifacts,” she urged, hoping that the powerful creature would side with them. “You have to believe me.”

The bear regarded her and then leaned forward and took a good whiff of her. “I smell your fear, and I smell your worry. But is that because your foes might catch you or because your allies may not get here in time?”

That was just too much for Scirye. She chucked diplomacy out the window. “It's not my fault that I haven't been able to take a bath in a while,” she snapped. “If you're going to be
that
sort of…”—she hunted for the right word—“of bear, we don't want your help.”

He swung his head back indignantly. “And just what kind of bear is that?”

She was so annoyed by the bear that she didn't stop to think. “You know, suspicious, snotty, ungrateful…” She was ready to enumerate his flaws at length, but she felt Kles give a cough that warned her to be more discreet. “And…and stuff like that,” she finished lamely.