Dream of a Vast Blue Cavern

Chapter 6: Council of Exiles: Glace

 Glace did not want to leave Stasia in the Burial Chamber, so close to Chraun. It had been hard enough to leave while she was still unconscious, to seek food; now that she was awake he wanted to drink in the sight of her, to tell himself over and over again that she was alive. Alive, though Casser said she should have died. Glace turned away from that thought. She was alive.

 He and Larc felt their way through the dark Spiral Tunnel, listening for Flames coming through. He would have avoided the Spiral if he could, but the tunnel Casser made went to the Lakes, not the mines, and there were no spurs this far down that were not dead ends. If they found more Icers, they could start to shape tunnels around the burial chamber, make safe passages that could be hidden from the Flames, but for now there was only he and Larc, and Larc admitted that she had no affinity for stone.

 The patrols in the Spiral were thick, and more than once they saw the telltale glow coming around a bend. The first time they were near a spur, and thankfully the Flames did not follow them into that cobweb-filled crack. The second time they had to backtrack quickly to the nearest spur, and hide in an alcove when the Flames checked the spur with their torches. Glace’s fear for Stasia increased; if they were checking the spurs, what would keep them from finding the burial chamber? But there was nothing he could do for her now.

 When they drew near the top of the Spiral where the tunnel branched, the distant glow of Flame torches blinded them both. Glace pulled Larc into another dark spur. If he remembered correctly, this one went through to the mines, bypassing the busy tunnels by the lake. As he padded silently through the narrow tunnel, Larc’s websilk rustling against the sides, images of the battle rose and flickered through Glace’s mind, playing over and over. Houses on fire, bodies filling the streets, blood and ash coating everything. He had bathed in a spring near the Burial chamber, but he could not wash the slimy feeling of blood off his skin. Larc’s breathing grew heavy, and he realized she must be remembering, too. He reached back and grasped her hand.

 They said nothing, just walked awkwardly with hands clasped. Glace pushed through giant, sticky webs of wild neithild; it did not seem the Flames nor anyone else had used this tunnel for a very long time. The ground sloped gradually upward, a good sign that they were headed for the mines. Glace hoped that it was the tunnel he remembered, that it really did have an exit at the end.

 “At least Stasia lives,” Larc said once, hollowly. “And Casser. At least we have that much.”

 Glace said nothing. He agreed, but the immensity of loss was too much to bear thinking about. He saw blood again, and chunks of ice falling from the ceiling as he carried Stasia into the lake. His home. What if the four of them were the only survivors? Would they live out their days in the Burial chamber, sneaking food from the Flame’s stores? Glace could not imagine such an empty existence. He still could not believe his home was gone. The Council Hall, Market, all the people, the lake—he would never again saunter onto the training square and engage another Warrior in a spar.

 A sound echoed down the tunnel and Glace froze. Larc bumped into him from behind and stayed close and quiet. Glace gripped the handles on his mace and axe. There would not be much room to swing them in this tight tunnel, but drawing his long-swords would be impossible. He would throw the mace with all his might, follow it with the axe, then draw his dirk for a close attack.

 The sound continued, a faint snuffling, almost too faint to hear, a rock dislodged here and there. Glace could feel the air change slightly as Larc drew T'Jas. He wished he could talk to her, to coordinate their attack, but talking would only give them away too soon.

 Glace blinked, trying to prepare his eyes for the burst of light that must be coming. The noises grew, but the light did not appear. A strong smell washed over Glace and joy exploded in his heart. In the same moment, Larc giggled and made an icelight.