The day is glorious. The company less so. The valley walls don’t have the same feel of danger they did before the avalanche, despite the warm sun streaming over them.
The Ice-Guards carry large white packs, but I’m surprised to see even the Princess and her unpleasant brother carry packs, too. Significantly smaller though. Princess Rishala waits for us, then lifts the hood of her cloak over her black hair, and almost vanishes into the snow that surrounds her.
If she were further away, or if I didn’t know she was there … Then, even if I were looking at her, I wouldn’t be able to see her.
I remember that feeling of being watched yesterday, suddenly sure I hadn’t imagined it. These people let us cross their border, and then came to claim their recompense.
I grit my teeth. Why not warn us off, make sure we left?
Because they were looking for someone out here. For a Cloud Dragon, whatever one of those is. And they think it’s Danam.
I don’t like feeling it, I really hate admitting it, but I’m kind of jealous. Who gets chosen to lead by First Uncle? Me. Who goes further into the tombs of the Old People, right back where the light never makes it, where the passages widen out into empty chambers scattered with forgotten belongings? Me. Who was always taller, faster, stronger? Me.
And now?
Now Danam is some long-foreseen Protector. And I’m trailing along behind through the churned-up snow of everyone who doesn’t want me around, weighed down by fodder and worries. At least ZuZu’s on my side. If she winked at me as she trotted along, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Praseep turns to smirk. ‘Seems you might be good for something, Dirt-Girl.’
Pompous donkey.
To make the trek even more pleasant I’ve got Grumpy-Guard on my tail, still grumpy at being outdone by a gotal.
We set off for the far side of the summer pasture, loping through the snow drifts. There’s no sign of the lake. Frozen, buried under snow, a silent killer. I can feel it though. Ahead, getting closer and closer. We’re walking straight towards it. If we don’t change course soon, we’ll all tumble through the thin ice and be lost. No one seems at all concerned. Praseep’s too busy looking back at Danam, and I want to wipe the smirk off his face so I don’t say a word. That smirk will disappear pretty quick once the ice cracks.
Though, pompous or not, I don’t want to be responsible for that. I’m ready to speak up, when Danam does it for me.
‘We can’t keep going straight,’ he says.
‘Why not?’ asks Vilpur. Praseep’s eyes have narrowed and his smirk has morphed into a dragon-sized glare.
‘There’s a lake up ahead,’ Danam says, ‘hidden under the snow.’
‘How do you know?’
Danam shrugs. ‘I just do. It just is. We can’t go straight.’
The Princess turns around to look at Vilpur, her face alight. ‘See, I told you this would work out.’
Vilpur nods his head and Praseep looks away, biting his lip. Frankly, I’m confused. Our group sets off to circle the lake higher on the slopes, Praseep leading us along a perfect line of safety like he knew all along where we needed to walk.
Was that a test?
Our white-coated summer pasture is blinding in the sunshine behind us as we reach the end of the bowl and begin to climb out. I’ve never been this far before. We’re nearing the ridgeline marking the absolute border of our lands.
As I crest the top, a valley stretches out ahead of us, and I see why they call it the Skylands. White and deceptively soft-looking, bound on either side by mountains so high they make my soul soar. Beautiful. I breathe in deeply.
I can’t feel any people. No villages, and certainly no cities of shining green.
But then I can’t feel the Ice-People right in front of my face either.
They’ve settled behind a rock, sheltered from the cutting wind. A small fire is burning. The fire feels … strange. Powerful and bright.
Water begins to merrily bubble in a pot, and Aji adds butter and leaves. A pungent odour spreads immediately, and I forget about admiring the mountains. My stomach loudly reminds me I’ve not broken my fast. Back home we’d always start the day with tea and barley balls.
Praseep looks at me, then back to Aji. ‘Your cooking skills have found a new admirer, Aji.’ He smiles at her. Actually smiles. I blink to make sure I’m seeing right. In fact, all the Ice-People seem more comfortable now they’ve made the pass.
Aji grins back at Praseep. And her eyes … her eyes are as bright white as soft-fallen snow, only the tiny black pupil in the middle. I stare. And as I’m staring, mouth open, between one moment and the next, they zap back to deep hawk-brown.
By the Dragon!
Ice-People eyes. All the stories are coming true.
Aji warms up small round cakes she pulls from Praseep’s pack. Praseep’s a strange one, for sure. On the one hand, he’s been so rude to me I would like the opportunity to push him off this ridge. But then I see him joking with guards and carrying group provisions …
I’m so confused by everything this morning.
The warm potato cakes are honey-sweet, fluffy inside and crunchy on the outside. And the tea is salty and thick and delicious. In our village, tea is usually very milky with a generous spoonful of honey. Somehow, the salt suits where we are.
Danam doesn’t agree. I don’t notice his silence immediately, not until Vilpur kindly asks him if he’s enjoying his meal. His tea’s barely touched.
‘It is a delicacy in our land, it will give you the energy and warmth you need,’ Vilpur says with a serene smile.
Danam looks uncertain, his eyes flicking to me. My cup’s empty. I’d drink his too, if he offered it. He doesn’t. He pastes on a smile and takes a tiny sip.
He hates it. He looks the same as he did that time the summer heat turned the hearth-stew and he was the first to be served.
Vilpur slaps him on the back with a laugh. ‘More than that, my boy. How can you expect to become a Cloud Dragon if you never eat?’
Danam takes a deeper swig. He struggles to get it down. I wince for him. He manages a swallow, manages a smile, takes a hasty bite of the cake as if to erase the memory of the tea.
It doesn’t work.
When he throws up, it’s spectacular.
Some of it spatters Praseep’s white cloak. Vilpur’s all concerned about Danam, but I’m waiting for Praseep’s reaction.
I mean, a Dirt-Boy just vomited on his Ice-Cloak.
I’m expecting him to explode.
But he doesn’t.
He just offers a cloth to Danam, and then moves aside to quietly rub off his cloak in the snow.
I feel strangely disappointed, and I realise I actually wanted him to explode. I want something that confirms these people aren’t right for Danam. Something that will help me convince him we need to get away before my usefulness is over. I want something I can fight against. I can’t fight crunchy potato cakes and scorchingly hot butter tea and kindness.
ZuZu comes over to where I sit on the outer edge of the group, and nuzzles my arm. I take my pack off, not realising until then I was still carrying it. Inside are the precious remains of the fodder for the gotals, and extra grasses Praseep had the guards harvest before we left. I hand out a small amount to each of them.
When the Ice-People talk of the palace, they look up the valley to where the clouds become like land. Two, maybe three more days away, I guess. The gotals may arrive hungry, but at least they’ll arrive. If I haven’t convinced Danam we need to escape before then. I still don’t trust these people. Any place where Praseep is an honoured prince is somewhere I don’t want to leave my nephew alone.
And there’s no way I can return to our village having lost everything I was responsible for. I need to think.
Praseep’s talking to the Princess, his voice fluttering towards me on the cold breeze. ‘When we stop tonight, we are going to have to do something about the stink of these Dirt-People. It is putting me off my food.’
And I hide a smile. Because there’s that nasty part of him I can plot against.
‘Really, Praseep. I don’t know what has got into you,’ I hear the Princess say. ‘Besides, Danam is one of us now.’
‘Not until he passes the Dragon Tests.’ Praseep’s voice is bitter.
‘He will pass, we have seen what he can do. As it is …’ she raises her voice so it can be clearly heard. ‘Aji, please see that Danam and the Dirt-Girl are washed tonight. Praseep, if you would assist?’
How on earth will Praseep assist me wash? My cheeks blaze in the chill wind. I glare at them all as they lord it up on their side of the circle. The upwind side.
And what did Danam do, that makes the Princess so sure he’s a Protector? She chose him straight away, just by looking at him, back in the cottage.
And what tests are they talking about?
But perhaps most importantly, by the Dragon itself, how do they think they’re going to wash us without us freezing to death?