Stranded: Heart of Black Ice Bay - 25. Epilogue

On a beautiful morning in early April, sparkling sunlight glistened off the rippled surface of Bear lake. The scene could not have been more different from the glacial one they had encountered almost six months earlier. Everything felt alive with the optimism of spring. Black and red butterflies fluttered between clumps of bright yellow wildflowers lining the lake at the point where they had returned to shore on their last visit. Leon had been right again, that even without ice to walk upon, they could easily wade to the island from there, the cold shallows only just coming up to their waists.

After lighting a fire to dry their breeches, they replaced the crystals in the cavity beneath the floorboards, then spent time sweeping the floor and repairing the hut roof, chopping supplies of firewood, fixing the tapestry back in place, and making the cabin generally habitable. Mrs Sturridge had even gifted Brathay a small clay vase, something he filled with violet, white and yellow flowers he had found bordering the hut.

They had discussed with Fleming whether to return the crystals to the lake or leave them in the keep for the next incumbent. Fleming had been the one to explain about the safety of the lake, not only being surrounded on all sides by water—often, he had heard, the water acted as a shield for items of power and effectively rendered them untraceable—but also being protected by the creature in the lake.

The days before they set off, they consulted other individuals about their planned trip. Nokh Sturridge had been bemused at Brathay's request to gift something to a wild bear, but rather than simply providing suggestions, he had produced a small sack of assorted foods including berries, fish, insects and larvae, with instruction to leave the contents on an open rock somewhere the bear frequented. Near the entrance to the plateau forest, Leon had emptied the sack onto a clean stone beneath a tree where they had found fresh droppings, bear claw marks and prints in the soil.

They had planned to spend at least one night in the lake hut. Both of them wanted to enjoy the other's body under the roof of the cabin, something they had desired before but had not pursued due to Brathay's condition. From there, they had agreed first to head to Aulderly to visit Brokerman, then onto Pigeon's Head Spit in Cormaland to visit Leon's sister, from where they hoped to board a ship for Khloradich to see Leon's brother with whom they would remain until the baby arrived.

Familiar with bringing Sjin-Shatir babies into the world, Fleming had insisted that nearer the time of the birth—at least a month before—he and Marietta, along with Joxi and a few chosen villagers, would come to the warmer climes of Khloradich to oversee the birth. Even with that reassurance, Fleming insisted Brathay remain in constant touch in case of any changes. For this reason alone, Leon delayed their plan to venture up to Morkhlach and into the Scorched Kingdom.

In the end, Bhullard and Ligger insisted on escorting the Morkhlach soldiers back to their homes and talking to the old duke. Haycock, who had recovered sufficiently, wanted to accompany them, but Fleming considered the journey on horseback too arduous and insisted he return to Cormaland on one of the remaining ships and convalesce there. Brathay realised Haycock was indeed on the mend when his incessant groans and complaints stopped abruptly after he heard one of the Cormaland sailors bragging about the stable of fair maidens and handsome boys in the court of Cormaland.

The sun had set by the time their work was done and before they settled in for an evening meal. Even so, Brathay insisted on saying his thanks to the lake creature. By way of an offering, Mjaj had recommended a small collection of crustaceans and seafood, including crabs, shrimp, worms and squid. This time, while Leon looked on, Brathay waded out into the darkened lake before emptying the contents into the water. Standing there, he felt a little foolish, watching the items sink below the surface. When he turned around, a smiling Leon beckoned him back to the shore.

"This feels so inadequate for a creature that saved my life. But I am at a loss what else to do."

"You said your locket allows you to channel nature. Why not say a few words. At the very least, doing so might make you feel better."

Brathay nodded, then knelt down at the lake's edge, placing his hands into the cold water until they touched the lake bed. With the water reaching his elbows, he closed his eyes, trying to silence his mind and channel his thoughts. Eventually, he found the words he wanted to say.

"Creature of the lake, I am not sure if you can hear or understand me. And I am not sure the offering I brought you is sufficient enough. So I offer you my heartfelt thanks for saving me and helping me to become the man I am today. If there is anything I can do to repay you, please find a way to let me know. May the bountiful blessings of nature and everything she stands for be upon you."

Brathay lifted his hands from the water, opened his eyes and looked out across the stars reflected in the lake. Apart from the gentle ripples he had made and the occasional evening dragonfly zipping along and dipping into the water, the surface remained as still as a mirror. After a few moments of contemplation, he stood as a warm hand landed on his shoulder.

"I wonder if I was heard?" he asked, putting his wet hand on top of Leon's.

"You have done all you could, Brathay. You can do no more. Let us head inside and boil some fresh water for stew. I am sure you are as hungry as I am by now."

Brathay allowed Leon to wrap a warm arm across his shoulders, turn him around and lead them towards the hut. As they approached the door, a sound came from behind them, like wet rags dumped onto the ground. Both Leon and Brathay turned to see two silverfish wriggling a few feet from the shore.

Leon laughed aloud while Brathay looked out across the water to see a series of bloating circles upon the surface heading away towards the dark centre of the lake.

"I think you were heard," said Leon, kissing the side of his head. "Which means, of course, that you are now on fish gutting duty."

"Wait," said Brathay, noticing lights in the evening sky. "What is that? In the sky?"

As they stood there, the blackened sky exploded with brilliant white sparkles. From within, a shimmering sapphire bird rose up before the tail appeared, fanning out in emerald dotted feathers of cyan, lime green, amber and aquamarine spots like startled eyes.

"That is the emblem of Ballyhooky," said Leon. "The Royal House of Fenchundest and of the empress."

"What does it mean?"

"It can only mean that she has passed. A new era in Mulia begins tomorrow, Brathay."

What was going to be a simple stew of vegetables, herbs, and dried meats turned into a very flavoursome fish stew with the addition of herbs and spices from Fullroy's box of tricks. As they sat on the floor leaning into each other opposite the fire, Brathay told Leon about his mother's voice coming to him when he stood on the scaffold on top of the beacon tower. He had almost confided in Fleming before but felt better sharing the secret his mother had passed on with Leon.

"Leon, after the child is born and is old enough, I still want us to go to the ruins of Tokyo Minor. Mrs Sturridge has already offered to look after her. Will you come with me?"

"If that is what you wish, Brathay, then of course I will join you. And maybe together wecan uncover this mystery of this last statue. But for now, let us enjoy the rest of this blessed day."

** ❄︎ **

In the cellar of a disused fort along the borders of the Great Lake in Thiradonia, Lord D'Marish had been listening to the hushed tones of his general. Both stared down at the back half of an ancient tome, the Lore of Invocation, snatched from under the noses of the institute counsellors from one of Clorister's crypts. Both looked up when the leader of the Xuhadra—the flesh sculptors—appeared in the doorway.

To this day, D'Marish found their presence both reassuring and disconcerting. Dressed in their traditional ochre robes, they had large hairless heads of sagging skin like that of century-old men, sitting on thin childlike bodies no taller than a pre-teen. From the sleeveless arms came long pale arms, lean but muscular, ending in large hands, lithe and strong-fingered, the hands of skilled surgeons. Except that this particular breed of surgeons had learned to manipulate the dark science.

D'Marish might have exploded with anger at any other unscheduled interruption and told the visitor to be gone unless summoned. But he needed the obeisance of the Xuhadra, would use their unique skills in the weeks and months to come, and would not risk anything that might alienate or offend them.

"And how does our patient fare today?" he asked, smiling. "Is he of a better disposition than yesterday?"

"The body is almost repaired but the damaged will not let sculptors touch the face. Lord D'Marish, we do not understand. Sculptors cannot regenerate skin but we can mostly smooth away burn scarring. Instead the damaged wishes us to build him a mask."

At odds with their own evolution, the Xuhadra worshipped perfection of form and made it their life's work to seek perfection in other living beings. Anything imperfect or broken they referred to as 'damaged', something in need of repair.

"Does he now? Perhaps he wishes to remember what was done to him. Did he say anything else? Is he still angry about his delayed conveyance?"

From what D'Marish could tell, his friend had been caught by surprise and had only activated the retrieval charm—his escape route—after the fire had already taken hold and consumed part of his body. Lucky for him, the flesh sculptors had been on hand to quickly extinguish the fire and begin work on his badly burnt form. Otherwise, he might have been lost.

And D'Marish still had need of the man.

"He speaks only of the ones who damned him, speaks only of retribution."

"Of course he does. Nothing more about the village and the fortress in the north? About removing all traces of the buildings and every living thing in them from existence?"

"Not today, you lordship."

"If he does, tell him it has been done."

"It has been done?" asked the surprised general.

"I need him to believe so. When he is ready, I want no distractions."

"And the mask?" asked the Xuhadra chief.

"Build him whatever he wishes. When will I be able to see him?"

"Tomorrow, your lordship. Once the final clays and taupe bindings are removed."

D'Marish waited until the Xuhadra leader had departed and was out of earshot before continuing his conversation with the general.

"What news from the palace?"

"The empress' body lies in state, your lordship. The funeral will be held at the end of the month. With no heir apparent and no successor in place, will Duke Ervine assume control?"

"Temporarily, perhaps. When the time comes, that will be a decision for the Council of Nations. He has no claim to the throne constitutionally."

"And unconstitutionally?"

D'Marish smirked but said nothing. Like many of his counterparts, he believed that sometimes change came about by force, power had to be seized rather than granted. Even as his closest advisor, Ervine had never confided his true ambitions. And D'Marish would not be drawn on the subject.

"What news of the remaining part of the lore?" he asked.

"Nothing yet, your lordship. But with the reward you are offering for information, we have eyes and ears working for us all over the empire. I truly believe you will hear something soon."

"We need both halves in our possession if I am to do what must be done."

D'Marish sensed his general's hesitation.

"You mean go through with this, then?"

"I do."

"You understand this would in no way be akin to the summoning charm you produced for your friend?"

"I know executing this lore will take significantly more power and control than I possess, which is why I plan to channel one of the Drune."

"And I do not wish to dissuade you, your lordship, but the last time the lore was invoked, over five hundred years ago, the ritual would have been performed by a highly disciplined assembly of skilled mages. Are you willing to take that risk alone?"

"If it brings me what I believe it will, then yes."

"So be it."

** THE END **

COMING NEXT: UNLEASHING THE LORE