21. Elizabeth, Lighthouse PointA roar or tumult—is this noise real, or does it exist only inside Elizabeth’s head? At the entrance to the distillery, she searches for its source. The waterfall-like murmur is coming from the lakeshore twenty metres in front of her, on the other side of snow fields covered in ice.
She takes long strides on this ice, which is beginning to melt under the nearly spring-like sun. Her feet assail the sides of a white castle, a cone three metres tall, an imposing link in a chain of ice towers and caves. At the top, facing the bay, she discovers another world.
The ice, in full upheaval, is moving. With an infernal grinding, enormous sheets are shifting a few centimetres per second and piling up one on top of the other to form an iceberg.
For a long moment, Eliza
