Chill

Chapter 18

Tam said nothing in response to this revelation. What could he say? Bits of stone that looked vaguely like flower petals.

After her triumphant yet perplexing gesture Maena carefully placed the curious stone she had help up in a gloved hand back into its place, snapped the lid shut on the casket and resumed the return journey in silence. Clearly the discovery and escape were enough adventures for one day.

As they walked side by side amid the painful groans and rumbles of the forlorn landscape Tam reviewed in thoughtful reverie what they had just gone through.

They had successfully penetrated the chill to a level higher than anyone before and heard rather than saw what may have been frost demons. Perhaps a trick of the strange microclimate might result in such howlings both near and far, he could not say, but there was a convincing eeriness about the experience that made him respect the stories of the Frozen Peaks all the more. Such weather extremes must frequently create unusual effects that even someone of the most cynical outlook might ponder with unease. There had been no sign of any Ice Maiden though.

Then he considered what they did find. A carefully constructed shrine carved out of ice in an almost impossible to reach location deep within the chill. It was so delicate that it could only survive in freezing temperatures yet there seemed an air of permanency about it. Why would the Lumos create something like that? Unless it was part of an elaborate trick, some distracting prop that would deflect away from their true intentions, heightening the romantic idea of a lost Ice Maiden amid the glaciers and snow drifts. Amid that ambiguous fabrication something solid and retrievable had been found, something left there with apparent solemnity by whoever could be deemed responsible for the shrine. A casket full of Petals, as Maena called the cluster of glowing stones, identifying them in hushed tones. Tam shook his head over this, for it all seemed like Rosy Romance girl stuff.

"Having second thoughts?" Maena said, noticing his gesture. They had reached Upper Maeven by now and Tam lingered near a dark corner of the Wayfarer Inn, as if unsure of his next move.

"About what?" he said.

"Showing this to grandfather. Confessing our adventure, revealing our discoveries and perhaps confronting him about his lies." There was a hardness in the conclusion of her words that did not bode well for any impending conversation with the professor. Tam thought it might therefore be better if he stuck by Maena's side a little longer to ensure she kept her temper in check. She was a fierce little creature when she wanted to be, he realised, completely opposite to the urbane and indulgent professor. Presumably she got this facet of her character from her Pioneer mother just as he felt he owed his adventurous yearnings to the wandering singer who stole his placid father's heart.

"Let's go see him," he agreed.

They carefully let themselves into one of the hidden back entrances to the fortress-like structure, Maena using a key card with thumb print access for added security. Up in the hidden room where they had first practised with their survival kit Maena immediately began stripping off the hi-tech survival garments. Tam turned his back in embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry," Maena said, genuinely contrite at the thoughtless exhibitionism. "You change in that room there," and she pointed. The usual air of flirtiness was strangely absent and even more strangely Tam missed it. As he replaced the survival suit with conventional padded garb he carried in a pack he pondered his feelings. It was nice to be liked, even by a thin crazy, obsessive girl like Maena Madrullian, he realised, and then shut the idea down. There were more important matters to focus upon than the massaging of his male ego.

"Ready?" he heard Maena's voice in the closet doorway where he had hidden himself and he could not be sure she had been watching him all the while as he changed.

"Ready," he grunted back and joined her in a shadowy corridor which he knew led to the lower living quarters level of the mansion. She clutched the curiously decorated casket close to her chest with a nervous intensity that worried Tam not a little. Such heightened emotion could easily lead to one of her blackout fits. They paused by the great door of the study, knowing the professor was inside for they could hear him humming to himself. Maena assured Tam in a whisper he only did this when he was alone. There would be no Crystal Lumos agents with him at that moment. Taking a deep breath, she rattled the door open without knocking and plunged into the dimly lit room.

"Grandfather!" she said in a voice that suggested immediate attention without apology necessary for the interruption. "We found something, something really important."

Lights went on in the study as if by magic and the professor was revealed sat at his empty desk. No screens were illuminated, no paperwork scattered upon the old wooden surface of the desk as if he had been in the middle of some project. Tam got the vague impression the man had actually been dozing. However a small gadget of indeterminate function that sat inconspicuously to one side of his right hand bleeped once and then remained silent.

"And what is this child?" the professor said, smiling indulgently as Maena placed the dark metallic casket right in front of where he sat. He briefly glanced at the curious item and then up at the expectant faces of the two young people standing before him. Wordlessly he perched magnifying lenses precariously on his nose and, leaning closer, began examining the intricate patterns on the upper surface of the box.

"There's a trick," Maena pointed. "Press just there and it releases the lid. Found that out by accident." The professor did as requested and the lid popped open, revealing the petal-shaped stones within.

"Where did you find this?" he spluttered, his demeanour changing instantly on catching sight of the contents. The man was suddenly very alert, very awake. The indulgent good humour had disappeared.

"The High Peaks sir," Tam offered. "We were exploring and came across this strange ice shrine. It looked completely artificial, like someone had carved it out of the ice and there sat on a sort of throne in the middle was this casket. Maena picked it up to look when strange howling sounds startled us and we ran away without looking back. Apparently they're Petals," he added, glancing briefly at Maena who blushed in the firelight. She made a face at him.

"The High Peaks? You have been there? How, pray child, did you manage that?" He looked astonished.

"Perseverance grandfather," Maena responded cheerily. "We're young and healthy and could not resist an opportunity to explore the strange hotspot on the weather maps. You know, the manmade device that's causing the chill." She added this last bit archly, hoping for a reaction, only to be disappointed.

The professor seemed not to be listening. He took a glance at the cluster of rosy crystal shapes, gently touched one with a finger, and then shuddered, closing the box with a snap. He sat heavily, cradling the box in one hand and his lowered head with the other. He remained frozen like this for so long Maena grabbed Tam's arm and ushered him out of the room.

"Grandfather's having one of his absentia fits," she whispered softly. "He gets those now and again when emotion seizes upon him, especially when he stares too long at the Spark," she added. "Probably runs in the family."

"It was the box," the boy responded, searching for answers, allowing himself all the while to be pushed into the corridor.

"Guess so. Petals can affect sensitive people like him." They closed the door quietly behind them but not before Tam caught a glimpse of the elderly man slumped forward onto his desk, his shoulders shaking as if in a fit of weeping.

Maena pursed her lips at the brief sight. This had not gone well. Confronting her grandfather about what really might be happening up in the High Peaks had resulted in an apparent fit of the sulks. She had seen it before and knew he was reliving past memories that were anything but happy. The fact he would not explain them was a source of frustration to her but assumed they were linked to the sadness regarding her lost mother. No amount of pressing or tears on her part would illicit any pertinent details so she had eventually got used to leaving him to it until the mood passed. She called Falma and advised her the professor was feeling unwell and it might be a good idea to look in on him a moment.

The bustling housemaid made a worried face, wringing her hands.

"No bad news I am hoping?" she said, searching for information. Maena shrugged. The woman left in a hurry.

"Well, that didn't quite go as planned did it?" she then said once she and Tam were alone again and sitting upon the familiar red sofa side by side in the grand lounge. It was late afternoon and the ever thoughtful Falma had left some steaming dishes on a table amid paperwork and discarded infodiscs, guessing the youngsters had not eaten in a while. Once the tension of the past few hours had finally lifted they found they were indeed starving after their adventures, so tucked in gratefully. Tam paused in his eating, glancing up at the chestnut locks of his thoughtful companion as she munched absently on mutton fritters in onion sauce.

"What actually are Petals?" he said after swallowing a mouthful of food.

Maena snorted, wiping her mouth and then her hands on a napkin.

"Don't boys ever read?" she laughed. "They're love letters of course, eternalised in a mineral matrix so they'll last for ever. Writ in stone as Rosy Love Romances say." She tossed her head for dramatic effect.

"I don't tend to read, er, Rosy Love Romances," Tam replied, tapping the floor absently with a booted foot as he looked down. Love talk with this girl was more than a little embarrassing. Of course he read books, but adventure stories set on frontier worlds or between universes, with gallant heroes destroying Gate invaders, or wraith keepers overcoming evil among the stars and galaxies in far off times. Rosy Love never appeared in such tales, not ever.

"Why would they affect your grandfather, though?" he pursued after a moment. "I mean, he's like, really old."

"It's when you touch them. That brings all the memories of long lost love rushing back, like as if you were reliving romance all over again. Even Petals from someone else can give you a love buzz."

"Love buzz?" Tam smiled. "The professor had a love buzz?" He could not imagine the quiet, scientifically minded old man seized with romantic enthusiasm. "Whose Petals were they?" he then added, analysing the past events more deliberately. "I mean, the Ice Maiden's? Really - would she bring her love letters to our mountain and freeze everything so she could relive a lost love in peace?" It did not sound plausible.

"Not hers, obviously," Maena said in all seriousness. "Left there by a villager, Fallow's plighted perhaps, though how could they afford so many Petals? Not cheap y'know," she added with practical consideration. She had a sneaking thought they might be Forsa Bandilor's, unsent passionate yearnings for Paalar Musconie. She could certainly afford the extravagant gesture, but how did she come to lose them in the High Peaks? Then her romantic mind resumed sway, mischievously conjuring up possible explanations linked to the wraithlike creature among the snowy peaks. "They were enshrined, weren't they, though. The Frost Witch found them, got a love buzz, and then left them there surrounded by icicle flowers and love knots as tribute to their significance. Who would have thought the Frost Witch would be such a softy?" She sighed, looking dreamy eyed. Tam cut through this rosy moment.

"Stop calling her that!" he said and stood angrily, the remainder of his meal scattering across the table.

"I'm sorry," Maena said, startled, realising she had used the evil moniker for the fantasy girl, a sensitive point with Tam in light of his strange obsession.

"No you're not. You're just making fun. It's all right for people like you to go wandering across the galaxy, experiencing amazing things, becoming bored by all the extravaganzas that you see. For us backward people, stuck on lost worlds like Troy, dreams are important still. It is all we have left once the hardships and deprivations of colony life have crushed everything else out of us. Things like this mean something, and all you can do is tease and disparage and make fun."

He threw his napkin down furiously and stormed out of the house before Maena could add another word to counter his fury.

"The thing about Petals, you foolish boy," she said as she watched him march up the hill back to the Sorrell Wayfarer Inn, "is they have two imprints, for love is a joint venture. No amount of sophistication can change that. Love affects us all, young and old, wise and innocent." Sadly she went back inside, cutting off the frosty air and returning to where the professor had been sat motionless with the mysterious box. She found him gone although the room was still lit and heated. He had obviously taken the box with him too. She presumed he had gone to bed early. Falma bustled around her a moment without enlightening her on her grandfather's condition before shooing her upstairs also so she could reside total mistress of the house after hours and read her own romances in peace by the light of the crackling springwood fire.

It was too early to sleep of course and Maena was too excited by her discoveries to relax. Her thoughts were of the highly romantic shrine she had found where the casket resided. Although her theory the Crystal Lumos were behind the chill remained undisturbed there was something deeply compelling about the Frost Witch, or Ice Maiden as she tried to call the mysterious girl. An anomaly, a side effect of the chill imprinted with a very human quality had somehow taken hold in the frozen high valleys, something unexpected or unplanned which just might be scaring the Lumos agents good and proper. Perhaps the hermit had something to do with it, conjuring up the wraith through some gadgetry only he knew of as a way to combat what the Crystal Lumos were trying to do in the High Peaks. Yet could a crusty old man envisage such a faery entity? Only a reverentially romantic soul would create such a shrine and honour the love of others with such commitment. Maena pictured to herself the mysterious being in greater detail, piecing together how she thought the isolated creature might be. Possibly the Ice Maiden had been struck by the emotions she experienced on finding the Petals and the only thing she could do was create the shrine in tribute. In amused detachment Maena realised under the same circumstances she would have done exactly the same thing.

As the early evening stretched into late night Maena inevitably played out numerous Rosy Love incidents with Tam which of course included making their own Petals of eternal binding when strange thumping noises aroused her from her misty dreams. She went to investigate and found her grandfather wandering absently around the upper levels, going into rooms and turning over the contents, as if searching for something. He did not appear to notice her and she assumed he was sleepwalking although fully clothed as if he had not been to bed yet. It was something she had not known him to do before but under the present circumstances there was no telling how he might be feeling. Thus she chose not to disturb him, only watch, to make sure he came to no harm, she told herself. Every now and then he muttered under his breath and she tried to eavesdrop, feeling a little guilty at first but then remembering the man had been concealing things from her all the while, and from everyone else as well.

Curiously the professor went up to the very bays where the old Lumos files had been secreted and this explained why there were so many tracks on the usually undisturbed dust. Clearly he had visited the place on numerous occasions before. He delved into box files and in his absentminded eagerness tore and discarded reams of crumbling sheets. Maena watched in horror as these possible incriminating documents were destroyed. They clearly were of no significance to him in his present state of mind.

"Where are they, where are they?" he repeated to himself softly. "Curse that officious Falma, where has she hidden them?" Then his mutterings became inaudible again, although brief mentions of meetings on other worlds escaped his lips now and again. They were places Maena was not familiar with but which sounded like informal eating places and clubs, not scientific buildings or research laboratories. As he rummaged through old lumber boxes he had the air of someone who had long lived alone and was used to verbalising his activities as he searched.

"Could it really be?" he finally exclaimed with some vehemence and this questioning fit seemed to break his reverie. The fruitless search was given up and the man wandered back to his own rooms. Maena continued to hover in the shadows, watching and wondering what might happen next. There was an extended period of stillness, suggesting the professor was finally preparing for bed. Maena listened a little while longer and then returned to her own room, satisfied the evening's wanderings were over, only to hear the distant sound of the door signal before she had set foot in her bedroom. Visitors, so late in the night. Again she carefully watched what was happening, using the shadowy labyrinth of corridors to good effect. Who would be calling at such an hour? Her grandfather, having shown no intention of retiring to bed, clearly knew the answer as he briskly went to the door without hesitation or a need to call upon the now slumbering housekeeper.

"Thank goodness you could come, at such short notice," he said to the tall, dark and sinister figures clustered round the door entrance. Maena recognised not only the sarcastic Agent Palmise but even Draevenk. He had presumably deemed the matter in hand of such importance that he had dragged himself out of his warm bed to answer the call of her grandfather. Without hesitation they were conducted to the second floor study. Knowing the ins and outs of the various winding passageways of the old mansion, Maena was able to anticipate their destination and hid round a back corridor corner as they marched up the stairs to the professor's well appointed and comfortable study. The lights were on and a warmth billowed out from the room, as if the professor had been expecting these important visitors and had made all ready for maximum comfort. Once they were all inside she listened at the door as best she could and heard something of the conversation, which was at times loud and energetic.

"You want proof!" the professor shouted early on in the muffled discussion. "Here, take a look at this, and this." Maena guessed he was showing the Petals to the agents. What had she uncovered? Muttered words too low to hear distinctly followed these outbursts for a while then an agent made a declaration. It was in the recognisable authoritative voice of Agent Master Draevenk.

"This is a serious matter, a very serious matter. We will have to consult higher up on the step we take."

"But you can help?" the professor's voice pleaded, cracking with emotion. There was a dismissive smugness in the reply Maena did not like.

"We'll do all we can."

Shifting chairs warned Maena to make herself scarce. She returned to her hiding place as the Lumos agents were ushered out of the study and down the stairs.

"If she can be saved," the professor said in hoarse tones, as he followed the Lumos agents, "I'll do anything, anything."

Maena did not follow them to the entrance but remained in the back corridor, pondering what she had heard. The Petals for some reason had prompted the professor to call in help from the Crystal Lumos. Help to do what? Save the Ice Maiden? Save her from what?

If the mysterious girl was indeed not a creation of the Lumos then perhaps she was indeed a threat to them as she previously speculated, but her grandfather clearly thought otherwise. It was the Petals that started it all and she determined to retrieve and examine them more closely herself, resolving to touch them with her bare hands, no matter what the consequences. She had to experience their mysterious power for herself. It was too late to do anything now and as the professor made definite signs of finally retiring to bed Maena decided to sleep on the matter herself.

The next day however things came to an abrupt head as a flood of Crystal Lumos agents poured into Lower Maeven. Agent Draevenk had wasted no time in consulting the higher powers within the Crystal Lumos Agency it seemed and their decision was clear. It was Karanie Fornoe who came racing up the hill breathlessly to spread the news, pausing at the Madrullian mansion on her way to the Sorrell Wayfarer Inn. She stated in simple terms what she said she had overheard among the Lumos agents gathered below. Everyone had to be evacuated with immediate effect.

The announcement did not go down well with the Pamistoe brothers or the Maeven Mountaineer outfit in general. The Poellan clan gathered in the Wayfarer Inn and swore they would oppose the Lumos invasion with every drop of their blood and Dorstal Pamistoe seconded the declaration.

"Over my dead body," he growled and Tam, a witness to these doings felt a little bit of admiration seep into him at sight of such selfless determination to stand up against overwhelming might. His father was more practical in the matter.

"Professor Madrullian has informed me armed and armoured agents have taken possession of the school in Lower Maeven as temporary barracks. You expect to be able to fend off this invasion force?" he said to the assembled mountaineers.

"Lick," the more reasonable Pamistoe brother Malten, said solemnly, shaking his head. "This has all gone beyond a local disaster, frozen sheep and barren meadows. The very principle of freedom is at stake. The Lumos for whatever reason of their own have chosen to ride roughshod over the peaceable inhabitants of a district using armed force. Lick, they clearly intend to round us all up and at the very least intern us against our will. We are star leagues away from true constituted authority that could protect the innocent. The very least I say is internment, but just how desperate are the Lumos to hide what's up there in the chill?" The implied threat made some within hearing shudder.

"They're going to kill us all!" Sumira shrieked, clutching tightly to her giant husband. He remained silent but the grim expression on his face suggested he believed there was some possible truth in what his wife had declared.

"So be it," Dorstal Pamistoe said, stepping forward. "But first we fight. We got weapons, the advantage of high ground and familiarity with the terrain. We fight, we hurt them, we make them regret they ever set foot among the High Peaks," and there were cheers of defiance at this speech.

Men huddled in corners and women scattered to gather supplies of food and clothing. Weapons were suddenly on open display.

"What d'you think?" Teric Jonas said, looking at his friend with a glint in his eye of fear and excitement both. The inn was the rendezvous place for all the active youths left in the community and Teric and others were there almost all the time now. It was simply the place to be.

"I think the world has gone crazy," Tam replied immediately.

Karanie Fornoe sidled forward and there was a strange look on her face.

"The Dimsoe family have been arrested," she said with a sniff. "They rounded them all up. I watched them do it. Merry was unconscious when they put him in the truck."

"I'm sorry," Sumira said and hugged the tall girl with sympathy. Karanie remained unmoved by this gesture.

"He was stupid," she said, "to try to resist. We're stupid. We should accept the inevitable and let the Lumos have the Peaks. Why cling to a frozen wasteland no one can use?"

"But that's it, isn't it?" Eastel jumped in, overhearing these words of appeasement with scorn. "They destroy our economy with the chill, our worth, and then seize possession. They found something valuable up there they don't want anyone to know about. Create a frost demon story to scare the superstitious locals away, make the place unliveable and move in. But they didn't reckon on the Maeven Mountaineers," he wound up triumphantly.

"That's my boy!" Dorstal intervened, clapping the teenager on the shoulder heavily. "Like the son I never had, this one. Listen, there is no time to waste jawing anymore. We're taking to the high ground above the inn with arms and food. Survive as long as possible, drag out the resistance as long as possible and hope news of the Lumos actions reach those who can stop them before they take over completely. That's the plan. Are you with me?"

Eastel of course was full on determined to resist. Teric and Tam shook their heads. They did not know what their immediate future held but hiding among the hills waiting to be picked off by a flash rifle was not a scenario that appealed to either of them. With a shrug the Pamistoe males gathered like-minded men and boys around them and set off immediately for higher ground. Karanie Fornoe, all for non-resistance, gave her own tribute to peace by kissing Teric full on the lips by way of gratitude.

"You're not so stupid," she said softly. She looked to Tam as if to offer him the same gesture but his mother intercepted the move.

"I think you need to go," she said to the girl. "When Merry Dimsoe awakes, perhaps it might be nicer for him to see you by his side and not a Crystal Lumos agent, don't you think?"

Karanie Fornoe shrugged without comment, wrapped her furry cloak around her and departed.

"Allak's been arrested," Tam said to his mother.

"That Fornoe girl could have prevented it," she replied with distaste. "She has more influence with the Crystal Lumos Agency than anyone else in Upper Maeven. There's more than one type of virtue a girl can lose." With that she disappeared into the back of the inn, unable to bear the sight of so much anger and despair among the peoples of the Wilds.

Tam Sorrell looked around him and his blood ran cold. What had happened to the sheep herders he once knew, gentle men tending inoffensive grazers roaming the rolling meadows in the soft fragrant air of Troy's temperate hills? Now all around him were fierce bearded men swearing blood and thunder against a mineral exploitation combine as if civil war had suddenly broken out. It was the chill. It had changed everything and everyone with its biting, numbing cold. The very air they breathed was filled with this sense of desperation, challenging the gentlest of creatures to do all that was required to stay alive, dredging up the long buried instinct for survival. It was of a piece with the pioneers of old, a legacy of the Mineral Stars.

To be continued...