Chapter Seven:
During the following week, we shifted our base from the Fuschlsee to the banks of a small stream in northern Tyrol, the Leutascher Ache. We would use our new site—a high-class bed-and-breakfast—as a springboard from which to explore the nearby towns of Mittenwald and Garmisch-Partenkirchen and all of the surrounding landscapes. Ava and Morgen had grown weary of the Fuschlsee after spending four nights with different male guests. None had been particularly entertaining, they claimed, and Ava remained thoroughly affronted that one of the men had tried to whip her with his tie. “I’m just not into the BDSM scene. It’s so vulgar,” she declared during breakfast on our last morning there.
“It’s not BDSM unless you consent first. But I’ve heard that rich men like to play at being masters,” Erika put in with a look of faux innocence. “Apparently they feel like having money doesn’t satisfy their cravings for power.”
This prompted both Ava and Morgen to refuse to speak to Erika for the rest of the day, while I simply blushed at my food and shared a private glance with Vreni, who rolled her eyes in disgust at our two friends. When we arrived at our new destination, the offended girls shut themselves into their suite to grumble together while Erika, Vreni, and I got settled in a slightly larger suite. Erika agreed to take the daybed this time around, so I would be sharing the main bed with Vreni. Hopefully I would not have any dreams that inspired my ice to manifest itself while I slept. That generally happened only with nightmares, though I had also awoken with traces of ice coating my flesh whenever I had raunchy dreams. Usually those sorts of dreams involved either Hans or an unknown Teuton priest of sizzling fire, his element complementing mine perfectly in my subconscious.
That was one thing that I hoped four straight years in the U.S. would purge from my system entirely. Though I hated to admit the truth to myself, I was in love with someone over thirty years my senior, someone who treated me as just another curious Teuton student, someone who had never reciprocated my feelings at all. I needed time away from Hans, and maybe immersing myself in a completely foreign culture would help quell my foolish yearnings. Even if I did end up with a Teuton man of high blood someday, I may not be willing to risk giving him children. And from what I had observed, all of the young Teutons in München seemed hung up on the concept of preserving their family trees.
On our third night at the bed-and-breakfast, Erika joined Morgen and Ava in their drinking games. The two had forgiven her after she introduced them to a pair of Austrian businessmen who had rented the apartment above ours. The three girls spent most of the evening at the hut’s beer garden, their rowdy laughter occasionally drifting out to where I sat beside Vreni before the hut’s fire pit. The two of us were in casual clothes—shorts, tank tops, and sandals—since we had all spent the day hiking around the lakes near Mittenwald.
“So is it getting serious between you and Stefan yet?” I inquired at length, leaning back on my elbows and watching the flames dance in the pit. I wished that I could manipulate fire as well as ice.
Vreni sighed quietly, lying back on the lawn with her hands behind her head, her eyes on the stars above. “I like him a lot, and we have a lot in common. But I don’t know how long he’s going to stay with me, you know? With the whole Teuton thing and all.”
“Yeah,” I answered, sympathy building within me at my friend’s uncertainty. “But just think, if he does decide to stay with you, then someday you’ll be able to stick your hand into the heart of those flames.”
Vreni chuckled, brushing a strand of blue back from her face; her hair had begun to escape its bun after our exertions that day. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I’d really want to be able to manipulate my element,” she murmured, sounding thoughtful, shifting position a bit on the ground. “I mean, think about it. If the government ever got wind of Teutonic powers, all of you would either get stuck in science labs or be hunted to extinction.”
“Yeah, I know.” I looked up at the heavens myself, wishing for another world, one in which my people would not have to hide. “That’s why we have to keep it contained and only tell people we trust. The secrecy really sucks sometimes.”
Vreni sighed again, and I closed my eyes to concentrate on my other senses—the sounds and heat of the crackling fire, the summer breeze caressing my cheeks, the scents of flowers and trees and grass . . . and the chattering waters of the shallow river that flowed not far from our bed-and-breakfast. I felt a familiar stirring in my soul and thought back to my recent romps with Erika.
“This night is calling me to break free and dance . . . .” I said in an undertone. My Teuton friend would be too drunk to attempt anything tonight, I figured. I felt a niggling urge to set more than just my spirit free this time around, to let my ice enhance my mortal body.
“How can that be, when it’s not even winter?” I looked toward Vreni and caught her skeptical eye.
I gave her a half-smile and jerked my head toward the trees beyond the fire pit, beyond the property of the bed-and-breakfast. “The Leutascher Ache is down there, in case you didn’t notice.” Vreni’s incredulity showed no signs of departing, so I shrugged and added, “But there’s still too many people around for that.”
Vreni pursed her lips, but before she could comment, Ava appeared abruptly at our sides. “Hey you two, the beer garden’s closing for the night, but Greg and Fritz have invited us to use their hot tub.” I looked up at my lecherous friend, who swayed her hips and wiggled her blond eyebrows at me. “Figured I’d invite you two to take part if you wish. Your beggarly friend might need help making it back to your room, though, Swanie.”
“Good grief, Ava, her dad’s an engineer. And she lives in a house.” I shook my head at my classmate’s snobbery, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Erika bent over the railing surrounding the beer garden, vomiting onto the grass. All I could see of Morgen was her wave of auburn hair. She was locked in an embrace with one of the businessmen, having ditched my friend in her time of need.
“Whatever,” Ava said, rolling her eyes and running the fingers of her right hand through her long ponytail. “You two can help her if you’re not coming. We’ll see you in the morning, or maybe the afternoon!” She blew Vreni and me a kiss and then flitted back to the beer garden, where the waitresses were cleaning tables.
“Bitches as always,” Vreni noted with a disgusted scowl. “I’ll go take care of Erika if you’d rather get icy with the stream.” She pushed herself onto her feet and gave a big yawn as she stretched, her well-developed breasts bouncing noticeably beneath her sequined tank top.
“Those two guys would probably enjoy your company,” I remarked before getting up myself, stretching and patting the pocket of my jean shorts to make sure I still had my room key. “I can help Erika back to our room.” She was leaning upon the railing now, looking seasick.
“Unless they can improve my blood status, I’m not interested. Go have your fun, Swanie. I’ll take care of Erika.” She left the fireside before I could object, and I watched her hoist Erika’s right arm and drape it across her shoulders, her left arm gripping her waist as she led her toward the back door into the bed-and-breakfast. They looked like an odd pair, both tall and willowy, one blue-haired in name brand clothing, the other in a flared Gothic skirt and Crematory T-shirt, their positions in life hardly equal. But they appeared to be kindred spirits, somehow.
I stood lost in thought beside the fire pit until one of the waitresses came out to extinguish its remaining flames and remind me that the doors would soon lock for the night. “That’s fine; I’ve got my key to come in the front,” I assured her, glancing toward the third floor balcony, wondering whether I would eventually see my two crazy friends standing there naked, having splashed around madly in a hot tub. The patrons had all departed from the beer garden, and the balconies on both floors were empty of people. For now.
I pulled the case for my contacts from my pocket and poked them out of my eyes, deciding that it was time to take Vreni’s advice. Go have your fun, Swanie, she had said. She was right. I should not have to fear the possibility of running into any witnesses around the Leutascher Ache. It was a shallow river girded by trees, mostly undeveloped. I allowed my element to rise within me, answering the call of its primary . . . water . . . . My sight altered with a haze of blue, sharpening my focus on the night around me, its darkness no longer a mystery to me. And I turned away from the bed-and-breakfast to head for the river, just a short walk through the trees.
It did not take me long to reach the water’s edge, and when I did, I paused for a moment, reveling in the beauty of the night, the sounds of chirping insects and hooting owls melding with the chattering of the stream before me. Its waters were colored a pure light blue, though at such a late hour it appeared more of a midnight blue, the rays from the crescent moon above hardly touching its ripples. My friends and I had visited the waterfall that its currents created some distance downstream two days ago, but here beside our bed-and-breakfast it appeared calm and welcoming, its waters whispering to my spirit. My eyes studied the stream from left to right, tracing its course among the trees, along the road that led from our calm hideaway in the Austrian Tyrol to our home state of Bavaria.
A smile spread slowly across my face at the mad idea that came over me while I stood admiring nature’s path. Erika and I had enjoyed spiritual dances upon the lakes on three different occasions while we vacationed beside the Fuschlsee, but we had never attempted a physical elemental dance upon it. There were always too many people around, even at night, but here? It should be possible here, and I had some experience with manipulating the flowing currents of the tiny stream on Thaden property. But did I dare to try such a thing with a river, with one that eventually entered an untamed gorge in its swift quest for the waterfall?
I kicked off my sandals anyway and knelt down to trace my fingers through the water, my mind toying with the idea despite its risks. The currents seemed to caress my skin, their chill speaking more deeply to my blood, to my ice. It began to overtake my veins more thoroughly, and I watched as my fingers took on a translucent sheen, creating tiny ice floes in the water they touched. One breath of cold air escaped my lips, and I swung my head around to look behind me at the line of trees, at the lights of the bed-and-breakfast further away, atop a slight incline. No people. There were still no people around.
In order to physically dance in Teutonic glory, one must put aside inhibitions and fully embrace one’s element, allowing it to meld with the landscape in a perfection of life. I had read that phrase some time ago in Der Weg, and I had already put the concept to the test at home, in the safety of my own backyard. I had even danced once on the shallows of the River Isar, which traversed my hometown. If I could succeed there, I could manage it here as well. There was no one around to witness it, or to tell me to refrain from indulging myself.
So I threw caution aside and skipped into the waters of the Leutascher Ache, their cool temperature infusing my limbs with strength, awakening my ice to the fullest. I giggled at the foolishness of my actions, then lifted my arms as though to join them with a Teuton partner, imagining a moment of elemental unity. And my voice began to softly sing an ancient folk song of my people, my body beginning to sway gracefully, a thin coating of ice spreading itself down the skin of my arms, of my legs, of the shoulder-length locks of my black hair. At last, my confidence came to the fore with a triumphant burst of vigor, and I leaped from my stance in the center of the narrow river to the crest of a swell several meters downstream, my icy toes merging neatly with the water, freezing it solid.
My enthusiasm increased exponentially, and I chortled in the midst of my song, springing further downstream to create another ice floe, and then another. From time to time I neared the banks of the stream, my frozen fingers reaching up to brush overhanging branches with the frigid kiss of my ice. The currents of the Leutascher Ache seemed eager to carry me along with them, reinforcing my stamina with the melody of my strong and living primary: water.
My element began to sense other creatures dancing with me amid the tree branches, some of which I noticed were of silver oak, one of several plants with special properties to the Teuton people. Are the Eihalbae actually dancing with me? I wondered, a delight I had not yet experienced quivering in my heart. I began to brush my ice against more and more branches as I progressed, hoping that the whimsical fairies may show themselves.
The idea of sharing a dance with the elusive fairies propelled me to abandon all restraints, to engross myself in my powers while I had the chance—before I found myself in the prison of a foreign country, a college campus filled to the brim with students and professors, with witnesses. I sprang from choppy waters to a boulder that jutted into the river, creating a rushing waterfall. I paused just long enough for my ice to begin crusting the stone beneath my toes, and then I jumped to the base of the waterfall, letting its spray coat the strands of my hair, where it promptly froze into jagged icicles. Laughter rang forth from my lips, echoing through the trees around me, reflected by the waters beneath me, their chill, swells, and speed ever increasing.
I finished singing another song, one about the Isar—changing the name Isar to Leutasch, since it seemed close enough—before thinking that it might be prudent to end my elemental gambol and return to the bed-and-breakfast before the night grew much later. I slowed to a halt on a small iceberg that seemed to arise from my feet themselves, then offered a brilliant smile to the river before me, to the waters around me. “Leutascher Ache and distinguished Eihalbae, it has been a pleasure.” I spoke my compliment in Teutonica, suddenly wondering whether the stream itself had a spirit, that it could somehow appreciate my gratitude.
Then I turned to face what was behind me, and a horrified gasp escaped my lips.
The calm and peaceful mountain stream that I had eagerly danced upon had transformed into a swollen river with raging and rippling currents, my elemental potency having filled it to the brim of its banks. The waters shoved me forward with unyielding tenacity, as though they wished to mock my confidence, having danced downstream toward more dangerous environs rather than upstream, which should have been my first choice, despite the difficulties it would have entailed. Teutons with water-related elements, when dancing upon a river, should chose the downstream path in order to maximize their liveliness with that of the currents.
But Der Weg Teutonisch, as erudite as it was, did not stop to consider the consequences of dancing downstream when there happened to be a rock-walled gorge . . . and a large waterfall . . . downstream.
I had not realized that I had gone this far.
My eyes darted around to analyze my surroundings beyond the stream itself, and I saw that the trees had indeed given way to steep walls of earth and rock, grass poking out in clumps here and there, scraggly trees stretching to the sky high above my head. The river had narrowed, beginning to ram itself around stone ledges and fallen logs in a race for its grand plunge over a kilometer away.
And the hand of fear grasped my heart at the realization that I had reached the Leutasch Gorge, a lengthy ravine ignored by intrepid rock climbers, not yet developed into any type of attraction. I would not come upon anyone to help me get out of this dreaded place, not even once I reached the path to the waterfall, which was closed for the night. I had to rescue myself.
My first thought was to point my feet to the west, upstream, and fortify my ice with what little remained of my sanity, to allow it to conquer the raging waters at my back—my own creation. If I had caused this overflow, I should be able to tame it. But my fear had already prompted my grasp on my element to slacken, and suddenly a wave smashed me against a rock to my right, my feet sinking into the waters as they attempted to pull me under, a mere human overcome by her folly. I cried out in pain at the impact, reaching up to grasp hold of a tuft of grass sticking out above the rock. If I can’t ride the river back, maybe I can climb out of here and head for the road. It can’t be too long of a walk.
I considered that option for a moment, my right hand clinging to the grass, my left scrabbling upon the rock, at last snatching its rough tip, my feet and lower legs still pounded by the angry waters of the Leutascher Ache. Though I had never used my ice to climb anything before, it would probably be safer than attempting to control the maddened river. So with a shout of determination, I channeled my ice into my fingers, transforming them into translucent claws, with which I began to scale the wall of the gorge, thrusting them into patches of earth, avoiding the stone.
Soon enough, I managed to pull my entire body out of the river, my toes also sharpened by my ice, stabbing themselves into the sides of the chasm. I pressed onward, away from the uncontrolled stream toward a sizeable elm tree that arched out from the rock, reaching for the sky and its life-giving heat. If I could pull myself atop the curve of its trunk, I could rest for a while, recover from this watery insanity that had conquered my confidence. So I clawed my way onto the trunk, some fifteen meters above the stream, panting with the effort, at last collapsing onto the bark and wrapping my arms around its girth. Shaky laughter pealed from my lips as belated shock flooded my veins, displacing my ice entirely.
What is this lunacy that drove me to this? I asked myself, closing my eyes and pressing my right cheek against the elm. How could I have let my fantasies master my discretion? True, no one saw me . . . except for the fairies . . . but now I have to face the consequences of my elemental jaunt . . . and find a way back to the bed-and-breakfast . . . back to my friends who will wonder where I’ve been . . . and why I’ll come back looking so bedraggled and drenched.
My thoughts turned to Hans, and a blush burned my face. What will he think of me when he finds out about this? I struggled to push aside my shock and fears and properly focus on a solution to my predicament. Here I sat, on a curved tree some distance from a stream rushing through a gorge, even further away from the top. I was no rock climber, and the awareness that I had already ascended this far without the aid of climbing ropes sent another rush of anxiety through me.
I looked down at the dark currents below me, then squinted at the rim high above, trying to decide which path to take. My ice had contracted into my spirit, so I focused upon it anew, pulling its blue veil over my eyesight, letting its chill freeze the nervous sweat that coated my skin. I looked up again, then down, the ice within me sensing the call of the Leutascher Ache once more, yearning to merge with something far suppler than the earth and stone above.
But I’d have to go upstream . . . and I don’t know if I can do it . . . even if the currents have calmed from my elemental storm, any uncertainty may lead to my destruction.
Torn, I scowled, raising my eyes to the cliff above me. It was high, at least another thirty meters to the top, crags of rock protruding here and there amid bits of earth, grass, weeds, trees. I can’t do this. I really can’t do this. I’ve trapped myself here where no one will find me, and my ice can’t save me from the wild. Despair dug its nails into my heart, and my shoulders began to shake with sobs.