Book of Heroes: George of Sedona I - 24. Hot Springs/Cold Snow

Chapter 24: Hot Springs/Cold Snow

Clouds in the eastern sky had delayed the dawn and then raced the sun to the zenith. By early afternoon, slate completely covered the sky. The wind that had pushed the clouds dropped to the ground. The boys shivered despite their travel cloaks. Tiny pellets of ice, driven into their faces by the wind, stung their cheeks.

“This is going to get bad,” Arthur said. “We need to find shelter.”

George thought for a moment. “That way,” he said, pointing to a path that led from the main road south toward the mountains. “We’ll find shelter there.”

Arthur did not hesitate, but turned his horse in that direction. George’s ability to find water had amazed Arthur from the first day he’d known George. As the boy’s magical talent expanded, some sort of prescience was developing—at least, Arthur thought, as far as directing him on the right path is concerned.

The giant oak trees through which they rode had long since lost their leaves to the winter, but pines and other evergreens grew among the oaks. Their needles blocked what little light the sun was able to push through the clouds, but allowed the wind to pass unimpeded. The boys shivered as they rode down a narrow trail illuminated only by a strip of smoky gray directly overhead. Arthur paused, and gestured for George to take the lead. The tween fell back to the rear of the single-file column. He winked at Gary and Larry as they rode past him.

After a furlong or two, the trail ended in a clearing. George saw a three story stone and wood building. The building faced north. An open porch, whose roof rested on thick wooden beams, extended across the front. The back of the building pressed against a rocky hillside. Orange light shone through windows and illuminated rocking chairs and benches on the porch. There were no windows on the western wall, but there was a large door near the back of that wall.

Gesturing for the boys to remain mounted, Arthur handed the reins of Aurorus to Gary, and walked onto the porch. Someone inside heard or sensed the arrival of visitors, for the door opened as Arthur approached. Outlined in fire and lamp light was a figure nearly as tall as Arthur.

“Be welcome,” a tween’s tenor voice said. Looking out into the clearing, he continued, gesturing toward the western wall, “If you’ll lead the horses to the stable I’ll open the door from inside.”

Upon Arthur’s, “Yes, thank you,” the figure closed the door. Arthur took the reins of his horse and led the boys to the side of the building. The large door opened, revealing the same figure who had opened the front door. Although the light was dimmer, it was also less direct, and Arthur could make out a human with very dark hair and very white skin. He was dressed in brown tights and a white shirt, belted at the waist. He wore cumbersome wooden shoes.

The stable extended into the hillside; it was much larger than exterior appearance suggested. The ceiling and three walls were native rock. The companions’ horses, plus eight already there, scarcely took up a tenth of the stalls. The boy said little as he helped the boys tend their horses.

The boy led the companions to a door, where he kicked off his wooden shoes to reveal soft leather boots. Like the Dutch, Arthur thought. The wooden shoes are to protect the finer shoes from mud and dirt. Arthur carefully cleaned his boots on the scraper, and watched as the boys followed his example.

Their host led the companions up stairs to a large room on the third floor. “This will be your room. The baths are on the first floor. Use the east stairway,” he said, gesturing in that direction. “Turn right at the bottom landing; you can’t miss it. Common room’s to the left. Supper begins in about two hours. I must see to the others.” He turned and left abruptly, before Arthur could ask any questions or make any payment.

“Did you see that roan in the stable?” Gary asked. “Elven horse, for sure. She looked at me like Aurorus does…as if she knew what I were thinking. Do you suppose there are elves here?”

“He had wooden shoes,” George said, “like the Dutch.”

“Anything seem odd?” Arthur asked.

“Well, nothing…unless you count a huge inn out in the middle of the woods, miles away from everything else instead of at a crossroads, no, I don’t think so,” George said. He giggled.

“Are we in danger?” Gary asked.

“No…I’m pretty sure we’re safe, here,” Arthur said. There’s no sign of Evil, and the magical field is cleaner here than anywhere else this close to the mountains. It’s still different, but it’s not nearly as dark.”

“The boy’s aura was bright,” Larry said.

*****

“I guess this explains why there’s an inn here,” Gary said. He and the others were relaxing in a bubbling hot tub that smelled of iron. “There were mineral baths in the mountains east of Bowling Green. Father used to tell stories about dwarves’ forges under the mountains that heated the water. He…” Gary fell silent.

George, who was closest, took Gary’s hand and squeezed it. Gary smiled.

The boys were in no hurry to leave the hot soak, but watched as other custom came and went. A tween and a red-headed boy were the first to arrive. They spent a long time washing one another. They must be very much in love, Arthur thought. They’re using only soap and boy magic, and their magic is very strong.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Gary whispered to Arthur. “Are you going to ask him to share?”

“Hmph,” Arthur said.

The two boys in question stepped into the hot tub. “Hello,” the tween said. “My name is Sam. This is my companion, Rudy.” He gestured to the red-headed boy. “Wow! This is hot. What’s the smell? They said mineral springs—”

“Iron,” Gary said. “There’s also calcium carbonate and other stuff.”

“That is Gary,” Arthur said. “His father is a Smith. I’m Arthur. That’s George, and that is Larry. How did you guys find this place? We just stumbled on it.” Arthur did not think it appropriate to share information about George’s prescience.

“Rudy knew about it,” Sam said. He looked at the boy.

“Someone told me…once…I don’t remember exactly,” Rudy said. He didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

The six boys sat together at supper. The common room was less than a quarter full. The food was excellent. Arthur and Sam declined the publican’s encouragement to drink wine, and asked instead for ale.

“This is like a resort,” George said.

“Yes,” Rudy said. “Rather than being a place a traveler might encounter, the hot springs make it a destination—a place people travel to for its own sake, and for the healing powers of the water.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?” Larry said. Arthur had spent a great deal of time driving from Larry’s mind some of the folklore and superstition with which the boy’s former master—make that his “late” master—had filled it.

Arthur bit his tongue rather than embarrass Larry by correcting him in public. That was rude, he thought. And it is possible that some people might benefit from the waters’ heat—even the minerals.

Rudy laughed, and his humor seemed genuine. “You wouldn’t think it, would you?” he asked. It was a rhetorical question, and he continued. “The heat might make someone with arthritis feel better, but it would take more than that to heal them. Someone with anemia might benefit from drinking the water—once it cooled! Bathing in it wouldn’t help. The soothing effects of the water…well, that could calm a person so that a healer could do his work.

“You’re a healer, aren’t you?” Rudy’s question was directed to Larry.

Larry blushed. “Not so good a healer as you,” he said. “I’m sorry I said what I did, it was rude.”

Rudy took Larry’s hand. “Please don’t be sorry,” he said. “Sam has spent the past decade teaching me to question everything and to take nothing at face value. Well,” the boy added, looking at Sam and smiling. “Everything except that he loves me.”

Rudy did not seem inclined to release Larry’s hand, nor did Larry give any indication he wanted it back. “Um…” Rudy said, looking at Sam.

“Um…” Larry said, looking at Arthur.

Arthur and Sam exchanged glances. “I don’t see why not.” “Of course,” they said.

Neither Sam nor Rudy saw their own room that night. All the boys were glad for each other’s company. The storm through which they had ridden gained intensity, and each of the boys woke more than once, to be glad for the closeness of the others.

*****

“We’ll not be leaving this day,” Arthur said. He and Sam had stepped onto the porch—against the publican’s advice—to look at the storm.

“And not likely tomorrow,” Sam added. “The storm isn’t yet at its peak, and the ice and snow are already several hands high.”

The boys had gone to the stable to tend the horses, leaving Arthur and Sam together in the common room. Arthur poured tea for them both. “Sam, you look at Gary and I see something—something incredibly sad in your eyes,” Arthur said. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I will say nothing more. If you do, I will listen.”

Sam nodded his head. “I knew I couldn’t hide it,” he said. “I knew the minute I saw him. Gary looks so very much like a boy who was my companion, oh, perhaps a hundred years ago. He not only looks like William, he acts like him. Gary is shy…so was William. Gary is quiet…so was William. Gary’s face…it’s blinding when he smiles, and he does whenever he looks at you…William did the same when he looked at me. We were—”

Sam paused, as if to capture the memory—and to store it away—and then continued. “We were so close. And then, he died. His father’s ship encountered a storm. Everyone was lost. I thought I would die, too. Before I could, Rudy was thrust on me, and I had to live.

“Yes, thrust on me. He was the only survivor of a brigand raid on the farm where my sister and her husband lived. He wasn’t even related to me, but—well, the Baron had to decide, and he decided on me.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Sam added. “Baron of Barrone. That’s where we’re from, a farm outside the city. Anyway, I changed his diapers and bandaged his cuts and kept him fed and clothed. When he became a boy, I explained the mysteries to him and asked who he’d like to be his companion. He had a lot of friends—I have a large family—and he said he wanted me. I told him that he should consider someone else, but he insisted.

“He told me that he loved me. I told him he was too young to know. He said that he was older than both of us.”

Sam paused. “The rest is his to tell.”

*****

“Arthur,” Rudy said. “I don’t know you. I think I know Gary, but I may be confusing him with Sam’s friend, William. He told you about William, didn’t he? I knew he would as soon as I saw Gary. Sam is so transparent, sometimes. I know George, but he doesn’t remember me. The funny thing is, that I know George for himself, and also because of two other boys I knew…boys who were with me in Barrone oh, six thousand years ago.”

Rudy had taken Arthur’s hand and led him away from the others. Sam and Gary smiled. “I knew they’d get together,” Gary said. “As soon as Arthur saw him, I knew it.

“What?” Gary added, looking at Sam.

“Nothing,” Sam replied.

“Something, I think,” George said in unconscious imitation of Arthur.

“A memory,” Sam said. “A memory that needs to be put to rest.” He didn’t seem inclined to say more, and Larry changed the subject.

The storm continued for a ten-day, and it was several days after that before the path to the main road was passable.

*****

Cold air flowed down the slope of the Iron Mountains and bathed the boys and their horses. It was a long time ago when I first crossed the Gray Mountains, and decided that mountains and winter made bad companions. This is considerably worse, Arthur thought. He nudged Aurorus and rode past Gary and Larry, touching each boy on the shoulder as he passed. When he reached George and Aeolia, he slowed and matched their pace. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” George said. “Aeolia is hungry.”

“It’s the cold,” Arthur said. “We all burn more—”

“What—” George interrupted. He held his left arm out horizontally, the palm turned down. It was the signal for silence. From the mountain, in front of them, a barely audible, deep rumbling became louder, and then stopped. Moments later, a white cloud rose into the sky and sparkled when it reached the sunlight.

“Avalanche,” George said, finally, breaking the silence. “Wonder if it’s blocked the road.”

Arthur nodded. He gathered magic and cast a ping in the direction of the cloud.

“Hope no one was caught—” George began.

The ping had returned. “They were,” Arthur said, and spurred Aurorus, knowing the boys would follow.

They reached the edge of the avalanche after a four minute gallop. Snow, at lest 20 feet deep, covered the road as far as they could see—to the next curve more than a half-mile ahead.

“Look!” Larry pointed. Below the road, sticking up from the show, were what could only be the legs of a horse. “And there!” Larry pointed again. A flurry of show settled to reveal a figure clawing its way to the surface.

“There are others,” Larry said, looking for and finding auras. “Alive—under the snow.”

Arthur jumped from his horse and dropped the reins to the ground. “Gary; stay with the horses. Larry, show us where they are. Come on, George.”

Arthur and George followed Larry. They waded through snow that was in places waist deep. “Here,” Larry said. “There’s one here. And another, there.”

Arthur nodded. You two—start digging there.” Even as he spoke, Arthur gathered magic. With its power, he scooped away snow and tossed it downhill. He felt resistance. It was a person. A little more snow, and the legs and trunk of a person were revealed. Arthur groped for a handhold, and pulled the figure from the snow. Human, tween, he thought. Alive, but barely so. He lay the boy on the surface of the snow and called, “Larry, come here. Make him breathe.”

Arthur and Larry exchanged places. Arthur helped George remove the last of the snow from a second figure. Another tween—oh, no, it’s a boy, Arthur thought. And then, he’s dead.

The first boy—the one who had freed himself, was digging—frantically, randomly, and uselessly. “Evan! Evan!” he called. “Where are you!” The only answer was the echo of his own voice.

Neither the tween Larry was attending nor the dead boy was Even. As soon as that had been determined, Arthur pinged the snowfall. There, he thought. The show is more than 60 feet deep, there. He never had a chance.

“These boys and we need warmth, food, and shelter. We know there’s nothing for hours behind us. George? What do you think?” Arthur asked.

George knew what Arthur meant. They’d discussed how easily he seemed to find water, woodland glades, places sheltered from the wind, and—more recently—a resort with hot, mineral springs. This was the first time Arthur had suggested that George consciously try to use that talent. George thought, and reluctantly decided. “Ahead,” he pointed to the show that covered the road. “That way.”

Arthur smiled. “George, I’m going to need a lot of boy magic when this is all over.” He limned his arms with that power and slowly swept them through the matrix. He visualized the rooster-tail of snow thrown aside by a snowplow—a childhood memory from Earth—and plowed a path through the snow.

Night was a quarter gone when they reached an inn. Arthur wasn’t surprised to be met by three men who held swords. At least one is a sembler, he thought when he had told his story, and been welcomed.

Hardy and Calvin, the tween and boy who had survived the avalanche, were destitute and disconsolate. They had managed to retrieve the saddlebags from only one of the horses, and they held only some of Calvin’s clothes.

The innkeeper brought Arthur a pint of ale, unasked, and sat across the table from him. “I’ll come right to the point,” he said. “You told true when you said avalanche. Bart—my brother—he’s a sembler, but you sussed that, didn’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, he went on. “Trouble is, avalanches don’t happen on the road.”

“Oh,” he continued, after seeing the look on Arthur’s face. “They happen, just not on the road. See, avalanche won’t happen unless the slope is steep enough, and the road was built—aeons ago—to bypass such.

“Reason I ask is because something caused the avalanche—something unnatural like. The two dead boys and the two you rescued—anything peculiar about them?”

Only that there were four of them, on horseback, and they were traveling East on the Southern Mountain Road, Arthur thought. They were where we might have been had someone thought to look for us there. The avalanche—it was aimed at us and caught four innocents.