Blue Fire and Ice (29 page)

Miniver’s roar rolled across the plateau. The figure stopped, dropping the shaft. As the bear raced towards it, the robed figure turned to her. Miniver could see its face. A woman’s face, impassive and dangerous. Her hand darted beneath her robe and she withdrew a small pouch. Miniver was nearly upon her when she emptied the powdery contents of the pouch into her hand and threw it straight into Miniver’s face.

Miniver roared in agony. The powder burned her eyes; the fine dust entered her sensitive nostrils, sending a sharp pain through her head. She could taste the bitter, burning powder on her tongue. Blinded, Miniver lashed out but her adversary had moved quickly out of her reach. Miniver fell on her haunches, rubbing her face on her forelegs, trying to rid her eyes of the burning powder.

The woman grabbed the cart, still a dozen paces from the cliff. She saw the others running from the tent, woken by Miniver’s howls of pain. She hesitated, then gave the cart a violent push towards the cliff. Spitting a curse, she turned and fled.

Miniver’s first roar woke the travellers. Grunge kicked himself free of his sleeping bag. Copper was already at the door of the tent and Grunge made to join him when he tripped, his legs caught in his sleeping bag. The others rushed past Grunge, trying to untangle his legs. They were already racing towards Miniver by the time he freed his feet and burst through the tent flap.

Brian saw the woman throw the powder at Miniver, then nimbly step aside and make for the sledge.

‘The sledge,’ he yelled. ‘She’s trying to steal the sledge!’

Aunt Mag heard Miniver’s cries of pain and ran to the bear. At the same time, she heard Brian’s cry. For the briefest moment, she was torn. She saw the woman push the sledge but Miniver needed help. In less than a heartbeat she had decided. She rushed to help Miniver.

‘No!’ cried Copper. ‘She’s trying to destroy it!’

Dot ran faster than she had ever run. She was the first to reach the sledge. She lunged and grabbed hold of the side. Her young arms weren’t strong enough to stop it, though, and she felt herself being dragged towards the precipice. A second later, Copper’s hands closed around the shaft and he heaved, trying to change the sledge’s direction away from the cliff. Brian, meanwhile, managed to grab the rear of the sledge. They felt it turn and slow. Dot dug in her heels and the sledge came to a stop at the edge of the cliff top.

Grunge joined them just as the sled came to rest.

‘Sorry, I tripped,’ he said, with an embarrassed smile.

Brian gave him a dismissive look.

‘Let’s drag it over near the tent,’ suggested Copper.

Miniver was still in pain, trying to rub the powder from her nose and eyes. Aunt Mag could see the powder on Miniver’s muzzle. She took a pinch with her fingers and sniffed.

‘Ow!’ she cried. ‘Chilli powder! Oh, Miniver, you poor thing! Let’s get this off you.’

Still rumbling in pain, Miniver allowed herself to be led back to the fire. Aunt Mag fetched some water and a handkerchief. She bathed the bear’s eyes and nose until the burning eased, and cleaned the powder from her fur.

‘Water,’ growled Miniver.

Aunt Mag led her to the stream and Miniver drank until her mouth no longer burned.

The others dragged the sledge to the tent. Grunge looked around the camp.

‘Where’s Crimson?’ he asked.

‘She left,’ said Brian, awkwardly. He didn’t like to think what that might mean.

‘Left?’ repeated Copper.

Brian nodded. ‘Sometime before Miniver roared. She went that way.’ He pointed north along the plateau.

Copper’s face creased with worry. ‘If she ran into someone out there …’ He didn’t finish. Everyone knew what he was going to say. ‘We should go and look for her. There are torches in one of the packs.’

‘She’s been acting strange since we left,’ said Brian. ‘As if she … she wasn’t with us.’

Copper looked at Brian through narrowed eyes. ‘Do you think she had something to do with this?’ He remembered the words Beatrice spoke to him as he boarded the tram. ‘Watch,’ she had said.

Brian was confused. ‘I just thought she was a bit … strange, that’s all. Grunge, you know Crimson best. Is she OK? Could she have had something to do with this?’

Miniver and Aunt Mag returned in time to hear Brian. Miniver answered the question, her growl deep and menacing.

‘Crimson wouldn’t do this. Not Crimson!’ Miniver stood on her hind legs, towering above them. Her next growl contained no words. It didn’t need to.

Copper didn’t flinch. He stared back at Miniver. ‘Then we’d best find out what’s troubling her, hadn’t we?’

Miniver dropped back to all fours and padded back to Dot. Her eyes and nose still smarted but the burning was lessening. She saw Dot staring at her and gave her a little nudge with her nose. Dot sighed and nodded, and nestled into Miniver’s warm fur.

A shadow walked into the light of the fire. It was Crimson. She looked at the disarray and the smouldering fire.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’ She walked into the middle of the camp and faced her companions. ‘This is all my fault.’

Chapter 11

T
hey put some more wood on the fire and sat, waiting for Crimson to continue. After a few moments, she began to speak.

‘Something has been pulling at me since we crossed the bridge. I don’t know what it is or what it wants, but it’s deep inside me. At times, it’s like a weight on me and the effort to move seems too great. Its force comes and goes, like the tide. I don’t even know if it’s bad or harmful. It’s like … a sense of something, a connection, pulling me. Then, tonight, I felt something different, something that felt wrong. Something calling. Someone calling.’

Crimson stared at the fire. ‘It felt the way it did when she spoke to me on the river.’ She shivered. ‘I couldn’t sleep. I knew it was her. She was nearby. I could feel it. So I went for a walk, to try and get a better sense of her, away from the camp. The further I walked, the less I could feel it and it was so good not to feel it that I kept walking. And then I sensed a terrible anger. I could feel someone else’s anger. I knew something was wrong and started back, but I was too late … I’m sorry. I should have warned you but I didn’t expect her to harm us.’

‘And what would we have done, Crimson? Stood guard? She has shown how elusive she is. She would have found a way. As it is, she’s done little damage, except to poor Miniver.’ Aunt Mag managed to sound sympathetic and practical at the same time. Crimson walked over to Miniver and wrapped her arms around the bear’s neck.

‘I’m sorry, Miniver,’ she whispered.

‘You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Crimson,’ replied Miniver in a low rumble.

One by one Crimson’s companions reassured her that she was not to blame and spoke comforting words to ease her guilt. But no one had words that could lift the burden she felt.

When all the words had been spoken, they laid their sleeping bags beneath the moon and the stars and slept.

The next morning they rose with the sun and breakfasted. After exploring the cliff face, it was decided to head north again. Gradually, the plateau melded into the mountain and they climbed steadily. By mid-morning they were able to turn east again. The mountain slope was gentle here and the trees were less thick and they progressed steadily towards their destination.

Grunge cast a concerned glance towards Crimson. She was worse than the night before. Her eyes were dull and she could barely keep pace with the others. She didn’t speak unless she was asked a direct question and even then her voice was strained and hollow.

Shortly before noon they reached the summit of the mountain. It was lower than its neighbours to the east but they were able to see far into the distance from its peak. Between them and the next peak was a long, shallow valley. Dense wood covered the floor of the valley and the side of the mountain beyond, but the slope into the valley was sparsely wooded and the ground was even. It raised their spirits to know they would make good time for the rest of the day.

Beyond the next mountain they could see snow-capped peaks. A long white plain spread out between three mountain peaks. The mountain at the northern end of the snowfield was the highest they had seen. It stood like a giant sentry keeping guard over the snowfield that lay before it. The sun, still slightly to the east, flooded the snowfield. Only the plain wasn’t pure white. Drawn out by the clear rays of the sun, the snowfield’s expanse revealed a tinge of blue.

‘That’s it!’ cried Brian. ‘We’ve found it!’

Grunge smiled. Brian appeared to have abandoned his scepticism, but Grunge couldn’t begrudge him his joy, he felt it himself.

They all felt it. They knew they weren’t there yet, but to be within sight of the snowfield lifted all their spirits.

It was Copper who tempered their joy.

‘There’s two peaks between us and the snowfield, not to mention the valley in front of us. That’s a lot of tough ground to cover in just over two days.’

‘There’s still six or seven hours left of today,’ said the resolute Aunt Mag. ‘We should eat as we walk. We’ll rest in the valley.’

Crimson had never felt so tired in her life. ‘I just want to stop. To lie here and sleep,’ she wished silently. She looked at her companions, settling their packs on their shoulders, ready to go on. She would go on, she told herself. She would.

So, into the valley they descended. It was a long descent over even ground and through light forest, and the companions had been renewed by the sight of their destination.

Aunt Mag felt the sun on her face and the freedom of having a purpose. She loved being with the children and would never do anything else, but she had always longed to achieve something, one thing, at least, that didn’t come with being Aunt Mag. Now perhaps she could. She glanced behind her. Dot and Miniver were still walking abreast. Behind them, Copper was examining the solar panel on top of the tank. She thought briefly about falling back to talk to the young apprentice. ‘No, this is not the time,’ she decided. She breathed in the mountain air and strode on.

Copper watched the panel vibrate as the sledge rolled over the ground. Again he worried that the vibrations would damage the delicate panels and wished he’d had time to make a properly cushioned mounting. He and Dot would have to test the panel when they stopped for the night. He glanced over at his apprentice, walking beside Miniver. He was glad she had found a friend. ‘She keeps to herself far too much,’ he thought.

Brian was worried. If you’d asked him, he wouldn’t have said he was worried; he would have said he was thinking, as he always did. He had worried about everything for as long as he could remember and it now seemed so natural that he no longer knew worry for what it was. Right now, he was worried about the mysterious woman. He was worried about the food; he was worried lest they not make it to the snowfield; he was worried about getting the blue ice down the mountain to Beadleburg without it melting; he was worried because he hadn’t made a list of all the things he had to think about and so he was worried that there was something he should worry about but had forgotten. But most of all, he was worried about Crimson.

Her behaviour had been odd, and although she had explained what had been happening to her, Brian wasn’t sure what it all meant, and that also worried him. Maybe Crimson didn’t want to be a threat but that didn’t mean she wasn’t one. He could see how she struggled to keep going, but whatever was affecting her, he could see she wouldn’t give in to it easily. Brian felt a sharp pain in his chest and with a start he realised something else. He was worried for Crimson and not just about Crimson. ‘Well, that’s unexpected,’ he reflected.

Miniver listened to the young girl beside her. It was as if Dot had just learned how to talk after a lifetime of listening. The words came in an endless flow. Not a fierce torrent, like the waters of the Salvation River, but calmly and steadily, like the little stream where Miniver would catch her breakfast each morning. Dot talked of so many things: her work, Copper, music, the stars, the trees, food she liked and food she hated. Everything it seemed. Everything except her family. Which, in Miniver’s opinion, was most unusual for young girls of her age, who generally have a lot to say about their families, though not much that is happy. But Miniver was content to listen, for one thing was sure: Dot was a very unhappy young girl, and she was most unhappy about herself.

‘Is Miniver a friend?’ Dot asked herself. It’s a strange thing that people can often talk of one thing and think of another at the same time without quite realising that they are thinking of the other thing. And so it was with Dot. She was telling Miniver how she loved riding her bike each day when she finished work. She would often take the long way home so she could ride through the fields on the outskirts of Forge. There everything was peaceful after the noise of the factory. It was like giving her mind a bath, washing away all the noise and concentration. Now, while she talked, she knew that the question was rolling around in her head.

She’d had friends when she was younger but they had drifted away over the last few years. She knew why, and blamed only herself, as she did for everything. She missed her friends; more than ever before she found she had confidences, doubts and dreams to share. Miniver was kind and patient; Dot had no doubt that Miniver understood what she was saying and, somehow, that Miniver cared. In a short time, Dot had come to love Miniver. But she wasn’t sure that made Miniver her friend. Or that she was Miniver’s friend, like Crimson or Grunge were. And as she knew she wanted to be.