Frost Fire
an excerpt

The flight went uneventfully, and she had to don her robe once she was still two hours away from her destination. The air grew bitter cold, and finally she saw it. In the low mountains was a crater bigger than anything she had ever seen. It was hundreds of meters deep, and a couple of miles across. In the center there was a smudge of red and black, and the pilot pointed it out as their destination. That was where she was going to spend the next three years.

The trunk held fast, and her emotions didn’t get out to get the better of her.

The barge landed in a flat snowy field, down-slope from a squat building that looked like a bunker. She debarked and waved the captain away, shouldered her duffel, and headed up to the entrance. The sky was a bright deep blue, and she couldn’t feel any of the spring life she had reveled in just that morning.

‘Oi, you must be the new ‘un.’ A brown-haired man not much older than she with buck-teeth and a sullen expression greeted her from a chair near the entrance. ‘I’m to show you your room. Come this way.’

The heavy door opened at his touch and led into a sort of airlock. He opened the second door, and Kestrel found herself in a large common room that was a mess. The floor was littered with wrappers from one junk food or another, and the place smelled of mildew and unwashed boys.

‘I’m Kestrel Greenlake.’

‘You are, ain’t you. Wasn’t expecting anyone else; the Ice Hole ain’t on many holiday tours.’ He had a little bit of a limp, favoring his right leg.

‘this ‘ere’s the kitchen’ he said, gesturing through a doorway. Kestrel noticed it was in the same sorry state as the common room. ‘That over there’s the latrine,’ another gesture the other direction, ‘and this is the dormit’ry.’ They entered a large room at the end of the hall, with old iron framed bunk beds. ‘Ye can take your pick of the ones on the right side there; us guys stick to the left for the most part on account of the heaters work on that side. Well, except for Ross. He tends to stick to this one near the door. He’s got horrible gas, and sometimes gets out of the room in time.’ He then muttered to himself, ‘sometimes ‘e doesn’t. Rough nights those, but we’ve gotten used to ‘em.’

Kestrel picked the top bunk of a set in the far back corner and threw her duffel on it. ‘And you are..?’ she asked, turning back to her guide.

‘Donory’s the name. Only got three more weeks here, so don’t mind me if I don’t wanna get to know yet another screw-up.

‘Captain Thonnel requests you meet him on up the path and he’ll show you your duties. Just head out the door and make a right. Follow the chain; you can’t miss it.’ He left her, muttering ‘’less you’re an idiot. Wouldn’t be surprised; this place is full of idiots here…’

When she emerged back into the common room, Donory had disappeared. She took note of a staircase in the far corner, and headed out the doors. There was an icy path beaten from the door around the right side of the bunker, and attached to the wall with massive rings was a chain. The wind picked up a little and she grabbed for it instinctively, closing her robe against the cold. The few clouds that had been on the horizon had moved in quickly, and soon the blue sky would be hidden away. Kestrel felt a metaphor coming on with that realization.

Not too far off was a great big bear of a man, with a large fluffy ginger beard, and a green robe. She’d have thought the effect rather striking had she thought to let her emotions out of their trunk for a while.

‘Captain Thonnel?’

He held onto the chain and surveyed the distance. She wondered how long he’d been staring. He turned to face her and spat into the snow at her feet.

‘You’re Greenlake?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘A’right. Follow me.’

Little flurries of snow blew around the two figures as they clutched their robes tight against the icy wind. The cloudy sky kept the sun glare away but made the world a dim, grey, cold wasteland as far as the eye could see; the brightly colored robes the only reminder that there was life here. The path was a mire of churned up mud and snow from the various other people that walked this route every day to keep watch. The place was so desolate that even the lights on the posts that lined the path, normally cheery and yellow, seemed dim and depressed by their surroundings. The chain, something to grab a hold of in case of a freak blizzard, clinked in the rings on the posts, adding a somber soundtrack to the crunching and squelching of their passing.

The red-bearded man in the lead stopped and turned to spit in the snow, "Well, not far now girl. Just over this ridge and we'll meet your new little friend." He turned and continued up the hill with an air of boredom and indifference, leaving Kestrel to realize he'd begun moving again and jog after him. She felt bewildered and lost; all of the circumstances that led to her being in this place at this moment were still a blur. Bob peeked out of her hood, looking expectantly at the top of the hill.

The two crested the hill. Before them, the hill flattened out to a plateau on which a monolithic iron structure rose from the rock, snow still clinging to runes cast in the frozen metal frame, though it was supposed to be spring. In the center, pinned to the ground under the structure that looked like metal bones rising out of the ground, lay a red shape that didn't make visual sense at first. A moment passed and there was a flicker of movement that she realized belatedly was an eye, and a rumbling bellow split the air making her flinch and cover her ears. Red tentacles unfolded themselves in a fringe around its mouth and lashed out, straining to reach the two as the monster raised it's head as much as the structure would allow, frantically scrabbling in the icy mud to catch the prey standing just out of range, neck muscles straining. Kestrel's confusion was replaced by terror, while the red-bearded man crossed his arms and let out a gusty sigh, looking unimpressed. She fought down the urge to run as she realized the creature was imprisoned, and wouldn't be able to reach her as long as she stayed outside of the tentacles' reach; a line clearly marked by it's attempts to dig itself free.

Once the man was satisfied that Kestrel wasn't going to inconvenience him by running in terror or getting too close, he stalked off down the path, which continued on around the structure. "As the new arrival, your job will be feeding, and waste management, of the beast."

"wa--waste management?" she stammered, uncomprehending, as she jogged to catch him again, flinching as a tentacle squirmed into her view and dug a furrow into the slushy ground. They reached the edge of the structure and she could see that it was in pieces; ribs of iron with intricately carved designs drove into the ground all along the length of the creature's body. The rest of it looked as alien as it’s head, short stubby arms and legs emerged from a sinuous body that seemed to have more bones or more muscles – something- than it should have. Kestrel couldn’t put her mind on exactly why it looked unnatural. The runed metal ribs pinned the length of it’s body down to the tip of it’s tail. She noticed suddenly that there were large metal pins driven through each arch, and it dawned on her all at once that each pin seemed to be also driven into the creature; an extra precaution to hold him to the ground. Bob had the realization at the same time, and she could feel the horror rolling off of the little figgle.

"Yeh" The man spat again into the snow. "The beast is a magical being and won't die, but he's quieter and leaves us alone a bit if we feed him... and everything that eats has to... well, you know." As his words sunk in, they came to a series of rocky depressions. The smell hit her at the same moment as the realization of what she would be expected to do. The burly man laughed and slapped her on the back causing her to stumble. "Welcome to the Ice Hole!"

********

She shrugged off some of the shock she’d started this whole journey with, and promised to let it out to play when there were less pressing concerns.

“Ye know the basic spells to clean somethin’ up, aye?” the red bearded man said, as if it weren’t a question - hoping that this time, they’d actually sent a screw-up who knew at least something about the basics.

“I um… yes, of course I do. You mean you actually have people out here who don’t get latrine duty for punishment?” she clapped her hands over her mouth realizing belatedly that you just don’t talk to a senior wizard that way. The red-bearded bear of a man seemed to grow larger as he raised an eyebrow and glared at her. He spat in the snow again. She wondered to herself in the back of her brain if he had a drooling problem, when he growled low in his throat.
With a deadly calm, he said “Well, don’t just stand there missy… show me then, if you know so much more than the rest of us.”

Kestrel looked at the trough coming from under the beast and wrinkled her nose at the smell. She could tell that it hadn’t ever been cleaned properly, and was most likely causing him (her? It?) some discomfort. Looking closer, she found that the skin on top of the edges of the trough was chafed and half frozen to it with old blood and things that she didn’t want to think about. No matter what this creature had done, she thought, he didn’t deserve to be treated like this. Allowing it to live this was was cruel, and Kestrel’s impression of the red-bearded man dropped several notches.

She cast the necessary spell to heat and move the waste down the trough to the holding tank at the end, a little ways down the hill. It moved most of it, but hard work was going to be involved in cleaning it completely, but the spells she could think of were just ideas she’d had. Making things up on the fly for one such as her would get her in tons of trouble; Kestrel thought she would try once she was allowed up here on her own. She found a cart there that presumably had been used to carry the waste away. ‘Where do I take it from here?’ she asked.

He jerked his chin back the way they’d come. ‘You’ll find it down the path there, bear right when the buildings are in sight, you can’t miss it. I’ll leave you to it then. Come on back down when you’re done and I’ll show you the rest of your duties.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Don’t you call me ‘sir’ girlie. You’re in the crater of the world here, ain’t nobody cares about protocol here. ‘S long as you know who’s in charge, and do what I tells ya, you’ll get along fine. Too bad you didn’t have the good taste to screw yourself over nearer the end of your term. You’re gonna have a long three years here.’ He turned, spat into the snow again (predictably, she thought), and trundled down the frozen path, fur on his green robe trailing behind him. She spared a moment to think he looked like a large green bear before turning to pick up the cart handles.

The cart was ungainly and had obviously seen a lot of use and abuse. She got along the length of the beast’s body, and came around the largest of the metal structures which was holding it’s head. The pins came through this part of the structure as well and she was horrified all over again that they seemed to go into his skin until they hit his skull. A hand went to her mouth, and the beast noticed her again. It’s tentacles thrashed towards her, the only parts of him that were still allowed to move. They lined its mouth in a fringe; long, thick as her waist, and blunt at the ends, yet surprisingly prehensile. She didn’t envy anyone who got close enough to them to be caught. It’s mouth was lined with large teeth that seemed to have been taken from different mouths. They grew at different angles from each other and were different sizes and shapes.

She pushed the cart to the top of the path leading down the hill, staying well on the far edge from the straining tentacles. With one last glance at the beast, she started down the hill.

‘Something is very not right here, Kes.’

Kestrel whipped her head around, looking for the voice that had spoken. This turned out to be a very bad idea as the cart slid slightly on the ice with her movement, and started to slide. She whipped back and grasped the cart handles as they nearly slid out of reach. She dove at the last minute and managed to grab tightly onto one of them. There was a moment of relief as the cart stopped, then began to slide again, dragging her with it.

The cart bounced and she landed on her butt, which numbed instantly in the bitter cold, and tried to dig her heels into the ice and slow the cart. Falling though, sped up her descent, and Bob gripped her neck for dear life with his short little legs. She tried to let go of the cart, whose bouncing was throwing wet, gooey bits at her that hit her robes and face. Bob felt completely disgusted to her when a drop hit him right between the eyes. Her robe caught onto the splintery wooden handle and she flipped over, now sliding headfirst behind the cart, which was losing its contents even faster as the hill got steeper.

She squinted her eyes, shut her mouth tightly (she wasn’t going to be able to get that taste out of her mouth for a month), and hoped she wouldn’t land on anyone when they hit the bottom.

If she had kept her eyes open, she would have realized that the cart had taken the right turn the red bearded man had spoken of, and the cart picked up speed. Bob dove off and rolled in a snow bank as the path gave out over a small bluff, and Kestrel was suspended in the air for a moment, cart and all, before falling.

She crashed down only a short distance below into a mire of muck, ice, snow, and things she’d rather not think about. This was apparently where she was to dump the contents of the cart… which had (miraculously!) survived the fall in one piece. She retched a little, relieved that that would help with the taste in her mouth, then started to pull herself out. It was slow going, and she lost a boot before it was all over. She lay in the clean snow panting, and only the freezing water leaking into her sock got her moving again.

She looked up towards the cliff and saw a tiny pair of eyes peeking at her. ‘fat lot of help you are, Bob. Think you can find my boot for me?’

A wave of horrific surprise rolled off the Figgle, and Kestrel felt a small twinge of satisfaction that he wasn’t getting out of that bog of eternal stench quite so easily. While Figgles were notoriously intelligent, and well known to be good at finding lost things, it was not so well known that they were completely obsessive compulsive about finding said lost things. Once you asked a Figgle to find something, he wouldn’t stop until he had and the compulsion let up.

Bob scampered through the snow around the mire, and got to where Kestrel was, then moved towards the bog. Kestrel got the cart turned around, then used the same spell she’d used before to clear the muck out of the cart. Then she got to work at drying herself off. Sitting on the open edge of the cart, she stripped off her remaining boot and socks, and heated them up to dry them off. Her boot was filled with – she was not going to think about it – and she cleaned the goo out of it as well. Her toes were starting to turn blue, when her boot turned up, with a very irritated Bob shivering next to it.

‘Here Bob.’ She held her hand down to the little figgle, and he gingerly stepped into it. Whispering a few words to him, the muck and beast dropping melted off him, dripping onto her hand and then to the ground, leaving her hand and Bob completely clean, but wet. Waving her other hand over him with a few more muttered words, he poofed out, now dry and warm.

Donning her socks and boots again, she got as much of the muck off of her cloak and uniform as possible, which unfortunately wasn’t much, and placed Bob back in her hood. She tried warming herself, but it was so cold out here there wasn’t much she could do. There was no path to speak of around the bog, so dragging the cart took much longer to wrestle back to the top of the overhanging bluff.

A smattering of applause broke out and she felt a blush light her ears on fire; what she suspected was the entire bunker staff was waiting – complete with folding chairs. A few were munching on biscuits and drinking beer as if this were a play put on just for them.

‘Well girl, if ye wanted to take a swim, you could’ve asked where the pool was; looks like you found it on yer own eh?’ Red-beard laughed and so did some of his fellows as he looked over at them.

‘Right Red, looks like the new girl is gonna fit in right good here; she can’t even stay for half an hour without getting in trouble!’ That from a dark haired man who looked as if he knew he was handsome and expected that to get him out of any trouble. Ironic, Kestrel thought, considering where he’s stationed…

The blush seemed to be directly tied to her lips, and was keeping them shut. The channel from her mouth to the part of her brain that wanted to give this idiot boy a piece of her mind seemed to be too filled with muck to allow the connection to be made properly. So she did the only thing she could think of: reminded herself to not gape like an idiot, and went back to wrestling the cart back up the slick path to the top of the hill. They taunted her from their chairs and she noted that they were all men; not a woman among them, save her.

Bob sent a wave of sympathy towards her, and gave her the impression he’d dump them all into the bog if he could. ‘Hey… Bob.’ She said out of the corner of her mouth, ‘Can you find a way to dump them all in?’

Bob started in surprise, then she swore if he could grin evilly, he would be doing so now. He dove from her shoulder and burrowed into the snow. She let herself slide down the path some with the cart, and fresh laughter broke out as her audience waited to see what she would do next. She turned to face them for a moment. ‘Any of you lot want to give me a hand with this?’

They all laughed more, save for a mousy boy near the edge of the group farthest from Red Beard. One of his comrades clapped him on the shoulder in a fit of mirth, and he decided. Standing, he shrugged his robe higher, and clenched his fists resolutely. Kestrel readied herself in case he was being urged to pull a trick on her, then Red Beard noticed what he was up to. ‘You boy!’ he bellowed, ‘sit yer arse down. If she can’t make it here, then she can’t make it anywhere. Leave her be!’

He pulled his head down into his shoulders some, wincing and pausing, then resolutely straightened again and grabbed the far end of the cart. Red Beard yelled again, ‘You’re on latrine duty until the end of yer term Mystery Boy.’ Kestrel thought with satisfaction that at least there was someone here who might be worth talking to. She’d fallen so far, so quickly – no pun intended – that to have to do this alone with so much opposition would quickly be unbearable. He grabbed the front of the cart and hefted it up, much stronger than he appeared. Kestrel grabbed the handles and did the same, and they slowly and carefully made their way up the hill.

Kestrel felt a gleeful feeling from bob that could only be described as triumph. ‘Hold on a moment,’ she told the boy and put down her end, digging it into the ice. She turned to look at the audience, just as a massive cracking sound echoed around them. They paused, and the boy gasped and set his end of the cart down gently, mouth agape. Just then, the ice cracked, and the part of the bluff overhanging the bog broke off and dumped everything that had been on top of it right in. They squealed like a herd of piglets; yelling and shouting at each other, and not a little retching was to be heard below the bluff.

She looked at the boy, who was regarding her in awe. ‘I’m Kestrel.’ She said, holding out her hand.

He looked down at her hand, back up at her face, clamped his jaw firmly shut again, worked it some more, then placed his hand in hers. ‘I’m er…’ he trailed off. ‘Evan. The Enigmatic.’ His ears turned red and he looked away.

‘Nice name, Evan. Shall we go see if they are okay to pull themselves out?’

He took his hand back and grinned. ‘Yeah. So long as we don’t have to help ‘em out.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

Sure enough nobody was injured, though the loudmouth fellow who had heckled her a few moments ago was complaining the loudest, throwing death threats her way. Red beard was standing in the very spot she’d pulled herself out nearly a half hour ago now, yelling at them to shut up and get out of there. He looked up to see her checking to make sure they were all right, a calculating look in his eyes. Bob popped out of the snow at her feet and scrambled up to her shoulder, shaking the snow off and plastering his frozen little feet to her warm neck, making her shiver. Red beard nodded, not quite smiling, and she nodded back before grabbing Evan’s robe and leading him back to the cart.

‘Did you do that?’

‘Me? I was helping you with the cart.’

Evan grinned, ‘I think you’ll do alright here, Kestrel.’

‘Thank you, Evan.’