City of Ice (20 page)

When Lord Resak was sure his guests could follow him, he led them down another large hallway to a wide staircase carved from ice. More moss had been attached to each step to prevent spills.

Suddenly Scirye heard high-pitched cries of excitement from above.

“Not again,” Lord Resak grumbled, but he hurried over to the bottom of the banister. The next moment a human and two bear cubs, little more than balls of white fur, hurtled down the banister on burlap rags.

The child knocked Lord Resak to the floor and Scirye noticed that she had the same hair and skin color as Lord Resak, so perhaps she was also a young shape-shifter. For that matter, the two bear cubs, who bounced off his stomach, could have been shape-shifters as well.

Lord Resak gathered them in his arms. “How many times do I have to tell you that you are not to slide down the banister?” With a menacing growl, he lifted the little girl toward his outstretched mouth.

The girl was squealing as she wriggled her limbs, and a horrified Scirye was sure Lord Resak's fangs were going to take a bite out of her, but instead Lord Resak blew a loud raspberry against the cub's belly. The girl had been squealing not with terror but with laughter. “Stop, stop, Uncle!” she screamed gleefully.

Giggling, the girl and the cubs tried to wrestle Lord Resak as if he were not some mighty spirit of the Arctic but simply a large cuddly toy. He held them tight, though, until he gave the other two the same punishment as the first.

When he lifted his arms, they scampered away, the girl running on all fours like the cubs. He smiled as he sat up. “They never listen to me.” He picked up their abandoned burlap rags and set them to the side, where the girl and cubs could find them again. When he straightened up, he looked at Scirye and her friends. “Now you know why I fight so hard. I'm protecting them and all our families.”

“And well worth it,” Bayang said fervently.

Scirye could not help smiling. They all were. Lord Resak took such obvious pleasure in his people and his home—in contrast to Scirye, who had wandered from one city to the next, never staying long enough in one place to sink down roots or find friends.

By the time that Scirye reached the top steps, she heard the noise from the next level. She could make out high-pitched squeals to bubbling rumbles. It reminded her of the collective sound that all the creatures in a zoo might make—though far more cheery and relaxed—and there was the strong smell of wet fur and fish, but it wasn't unpleasant because it seemed so natural.

Here the Arctic foxes, shape-shifting bears, wolves, and otters lived according to their own taste, so it felt as if she were visiting different worlds all jammed together. The bear-men and bear-women preferred spherical rooms large enough for families of three or four that, Lord Resak explained, reminded them of the dens a mother would dig in the snow for her cubs.

The walls of their section were also all curved, billowing inward or outward like sails so that the corridors themselves seemed to be alternately expanding and contracting.

“Oog,” Koko whispered, “I feel like I'm in a glass intestine.”

“I can't say I've ever had the pleasure,” Kles said, and held a claw to his beak. “Now to use Leech's patois, ut-shay up-quay.”

The Arctic foxes lived in warrens of tunnels and rooms that were smaller versions of the bears', but the foxes' hallways looked like cake batter had been poured down the walls and floors in folded layers. It made the footing precarious even with the walking moss on the companions' boots, and they were continually bumping their heads on protruding ceilings and walls.

The wolves' section was all angles, so parts of it made Scirye feel as if she were within a crystal while other parts widened into open ice fields where the wolves could run—or more likely skate.

In contrast, the otters' corridors had undulating floors that curled back on themselves and reminded her of fun-house slides. Instead of living in separate homes, the otters stayed all together in a large communal cavern where, despite all the space, they tended to cluster together in one rowdy, sociable superraft and with no regard for privacy at all. It reminded Scirye of school cafeterias at lunchtime.

As the companions passed through it, they noticed some of the otters had wrapped themselves in long pieces of green felt, which they wound around them so they resembled green caterpillars with fuzzy heads and feet.

“Why are they doing that?” Leech asked.

“In the ocean, otters would wrap themselves in the leaves of a bull kelp,” Lord Resak said. “Even here, some habits die hard.”

The decorations carved into the ice varied according to the group. Bears cut deep parallel grooves in patterns that swirled and spiraled across walls, floor, and ceiling. Wolves embellished their homes with carved rows of triangles like distant mountain ranges—or, Koko suggested with a shudder, like fangs. Different-colored ice worms added to the beauty of the carvings. The foxes' taste ran to circles while the otters' ornamentation was so chaotic that it gave Scirye a headache to look at it.

Scirye and her friends' progress through the palace was slow. As the news of Lord Resak's return spread through the level, creatures of all kinds came to greet him. They treated him not as a powerful spirit but as a favorite relative, even calling him Uncle. For his part, he had a friendly word for everyone—from elderly lemmings to wolf cubs that nipped at his legs.

And he always had a patient ear for their grievances. Scirye watched as Lord Resak calmed an elderly otter who had been complaining about his cousin's snoring. “Well, I could crush his head for you.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

The otter's whiskers twitched violently. “I want him to stop snoring, Uncle, not breathing.”

“Then I suggest you turn him over on his side when he snores,” Lord Resak suggested.

The whiskers wriggled in horror. “But that's not natural. Otters always sleep on their backs.”

“And otters snore,” Lord Resak said. “So perhaps you might try putting moss in your ears and sleep farther away from him if you can.”

“Well,” the otter said, scratching his shoulder, “he's only a nuisance when he's asleep, so I'll see what we can work out.” And he went away still grumbling but apparently resigned to his fate.

Though the palace was as cold as the surface, it didn't feel hostile at all. Perhaps it was because she was so close to Lord Resak. In his own home, the angry energy she had felt in the Wastes had been replaced by a sense of peace—a calmness brought about by Lord Resak's presence: He made everyone feel safe.

His spirit was large and generous enough to match his body—which made Scirye's own soul feel small and shriveled in comparison. How often had she been unselfish enough to do some kindness for her own family, let alone for others?
No,
she thought to herself,
I just complain all the time and feel sorry for myself.

Scirye took advantage of one of the rare lulls when Lord Resak was not speaking to someone: “You must really love your clan. Not only do you protect them, but you're so patient listening to their silly demands.”

“I take them as they are,” Lord Resak said, “including all their faults.”

“I could never handle so much responsibility,” Scirye said.

Lord Resak spread his hands. “And yet you're here. You didn't leave the thieves for someone else to catch.”

“I…I don't have any choice,” Scirye confessed. “I know this sounds crazy, but I made a promise to a goddess and She expects me to keep it. I asked Her to help me get revenge for my sister's death and recover the ring. It was a present from the Emperor Yü. It's said to have belonged to the archer Yi.”

“Yü? I met him long ago in his travels.” Lord Resak smiled as he remembered. “An amazing wizard. But so restless. He never could stay in one place for long. Still, he was as kind as he was powerful. His ring would truly be a treasure.” Lord Resak's bushy eyebrow helped intensify his gaze. “And what makes you think the goddess is behind all this?”

“She's under the goddess's special protection,” Roxanna supplied. “She warned Lady Scirye in a dream that Amagjat was attacking.”

“Wa! Amagjat?” Lord Resak clapped his hands in surprise. “And you escaped?”

“We captured her,” Scirye said. “If you don't believe me, you can see for yourself. And anyway, I'd feel better if I knew she was in your hands.”

“She's been my enemy ever since the First Dawn”—Lord Resak bowed—“so I thank you. We'll lock her away for good in the ice.”

Roxanna gave the approximate location of the sack that held her and then added, “And before She helped Lady Scirye fight Amagjat, the goddess sent an earlier sign of her favor: Her statue came to life and marked Lady Scirye. Show him, Lady,” Roxanna urged Scirye.

Reluctantly, Scirye pulled back her glove to show the “3” marking her hand.

“Many would call you fortunate to be so chosen,” Lord Resak said, and leaned his head to the side as he studied Scirye. “And yet I sense something is troubling you.”

Though she had not known Lord Resak long, he seemed so kind and wise that Scirye found herself blurting out, “She sent this strange vision too when she made the statue move.” After briefly describing it, the girl asked hopefully, “We're to go to the City of Death in the Kushan Empire, but do you know what the ‘3' means?”

Lord Resak's eyebrow twisted as he pondered the matter. “Many special things come in threes. The only way is to go there and find out what it means.”

“Oh, thanks,” Scirye said softly in disappointment.

He bent his shaggy head, gazing down at her compassionately. “And yet you're such a little cub. Why does she burden such small shoulders with such a great load?” Wanting to comfort Scirye, he wrapped his arms around her.

As soon as he had enveloped her, Scirye felt as warm, safe, and snug as if she were under her quilt at home, warm. She was willing to bet he made his whole clan feel this way. “I wish She'd get someone else,” Scirye muttered.

“I understand, little cub. You walk a path that would frighten even me.” Since they were touching, his deep voice seemed to rumble right through her.

Scirye bit her lip. “Then what do I do?”

“No one would blame you if you gave up and went home,” Lord Resak suggested kindly.

“My sister didn't run away. She fought a dragon and died,” Scirye said. “I can't do anything less.”

Lord Resak held her at arm's length, eyes intent on her face. “Then let me put your duty in perspective. Do you like your friends, little cub?” he asked.

“Of course, Lord,” Scirye said, wondering what that had to do with this.

“But there must be times when they wanted to do something that you didn't,” Lord Resak said.

Scirye nodded, remembering when she had wanted to push on while her companions voted to make camp.

“Did you leave them?” Lord Resak asked.

Scirye needed only the briefest moment to think about it. “Of course not, Lord.”

Lord Resak nodded. “To have friends means giving up some of your freedom. Duty asks the same of you, only its demands are greater and the sacrifices larger. And there may be no reward except the satisfaction of having performed it. Have I scared you enough to quit?”

Selflessness was Tumarg, the code by which her sister had fought and died. “No,” Scirye said.

There was an approving twinkle in his eye that was worth more to her than a volume of praise from someone else. “I didn't think I could.” With a pat on her back, he stepped away.

His tone reminded her of the way parents spoke when they were encouraging a child to walk—they knew the child could do it and that the child needed to do it and that they would be so happy for him or her when the child did.

Scirye would have liked to ask Lord Resak more, but at that moment a group of foxes trotted up to complain about some wolf cubs and he was busy playing peacemaker and lawgiver again.

It wasn't until much later that Lord Resak was able to lead Scirye and the others to what he said was the clan's true treasure.

“So you do have one after all,” Koko said with avid interest.

“Yes, a very old one.” The bear-man indicated two wolves pacing in front of a side corridor. “Which is why we always guard it. We'll put you in some side rooms there.”

Koko was all but rubbing his paws in glee. “Great idea.”

It was, Scirye thought, like leaving a cat in a goldfish store.

The wolves padded to either side to make way for Lord Resak, their eyes boring into Scirye and her friends.

The bear-man led them through a wide doorway into a round chamber from the center of which rose a tree carved from ice, spiraling toward the ceiling like a frozen explosion. The tree's three trunks rose from a common base, but instead of being solid, each trunk was a column of intricate icy lace that twisted and undulated like a serpent coiling playfully upon itself as it rose upward. The branches stretched upward as gracefully as dancers trying to touch Heaven. Red ice worms pulsed like fiery blood within the lace, and up above the ice had been shaped into broad, thin ovals in which had been embedded bits of quartz, which made Scirye think of shining leaves.

“Long ago, before the clan had books, a sculptor heard about trees, but she didn't know what one looked like. So she imagined one.” Lord Resak patted the trunk lovingly and the tree flickered in response. “I like to think it's what a tree is even if it doesn't resemble any real one.”

“It's the essence of trees,” Kles suggested helpfully.

Openmouthed, Koko pointed at a rayed disk nesting high up in the leaves like a bird. “Is that gold?”

“What else would you make a sun out of?” Lord Resak laughed.

“And…and diamonds?” Koko gestured toward the lumps that Scirye had thought were quartz.

“Yes, I like them in their original raw shapes myself,” Lord Resak said. “But the ones we want to sell we send to Prince Tarkhun and he has specialists cut and shape the diamonds.”

Suddenly Koko dropped to his knees, caressing the floor. “All this gold and all these jewels.”

Scirye looked at her feet for the first time. Beneath several inches of ice was a vast mosaic of gold and diamonds in the silhouettes of the different members of the clan: walruses and seals, whales and bear-people, otters and wolves and foxes.

Lord Resak regarded the fortune under his feet and then shrugged in resignation. “The otters like shiny things, so every spring they search the rivers for the gold washing down from the mountains. And the lemmings are worse. They dig for the diamonds. I keep telling the otters and lemmings that the storerooms are full, but I can't get them to stop. So we just have to carve out new places for storage.”

“So that's how you pay for all those supplies,” Leech said.

Lord Resak seemed almost embarrassed. “Yes, at least the gold and diamonds have one use. Oh no, wait. They also make good toys for the little ones.”

“Toys?” Koko squeaked. When he had recovered his breath, he hinted, “You know, I'm really a big kid at heart.”

Lord Resak waved a paw in dismissal. “You're welcome to some of them and good riddance.”

Koko looked ready to burst into tears. “You're a pal, a real pal.”

Lord Resak gestured to the glittering objects. “Could these trinkets be what Roland really wants?”

“No, Lord,” Bayang said politely. “He's gone to too much trouble for the other possessions of Yi.”

Before Lord Resak could reply, they heard an explosion in the distance. It shook the whole palace so badly that Scirye almost fell.

Then from overhead she heard a thunderous cracking like the spine of Heaven was breaking.

“Duck!” Leech shouted.

Scirye had just enough time to look up and see a twenty-foot section of the ceiling fall. Her openmouthed reflection on the mirrorlike surface stared back at her, a reflection that swelled in size as a ton of death dropped down straight upon her head.