The second mounted Silfen on each wing stood up in their saddles, and flung their spears. White light scorched down again. It wasn’t until the fourth set of spears had been launched that Ozzie saw movement out in the crater. A low, smooth arrowhead wave rose up between the twin pools of light and the shoreline, surging along for almost fifty yards before sinking down again.
A chorus of joyful chanting rose from the Silfen waiting for the beasts to be driven ashore, their cadence mingling with the thunderclap of the fourth set of spears.
“It’s working,” Ozzie mumbled inside his balaclava.
More bow waves were visible out in the crater now, all of them heading in toward the rim as the terrifying spears of light continued to fall behind: goading. The two closest to the shore were permanent, rushing forward ever-faster. Ozzie held his breath, eager to see an icewhale at long last.
The first one burst out of the ice granules a hundred yards from the shoreline; a huge gray shaggy mountain of fur sliding up into the air with the ease and grace of a dolphin sporting at sea. It was like a polar bear grown to dinosaur size, but with a row of arm-length tusks curving out wickedly from each side of its muzzle. The legs, of which there was a whole series running along its underbelly, were more like fur-clad fins.
“It’s huge!” Orion squeaked.
“Yeah, man, pretty damn big.”
The icewhale surged back into the ice granules, splashing up great gouts of the dry powder. Spears detonated into pure light behind it, converting the billowing cloud of particles into a seething mass of whirling rainbows. Its head rocked about in fury at this deliberate provocation, but it kept up its dash for the crater rim. Four more waves were close behind it.
Individual Silfen on foot were racing forward, their smaller black spears held above their heads. They had shed their big heavy coats to sprint toward their prey, dark motes skipping grimly over the bleak land. Overhead, the sky careered haplessly from red to white, spinning shadows around and around with giddy discord as the volley of twinned lightning bolts seared their way along steep curves. Ozzie had seen old documentary videos of soldiers storming ashore in wartime, and the charge of the Silfen was almost identical to that. A breathtaking insanity that made him want to scream encouragement.
The first icewhale reached the rim, and just kept on going at the same speed. Ozzie couldn’t believe anything that huge could move so fast. Its head was still scything from side to side, tusks snapping in berserk rage. Silfen fanned out around it. Several spears were thrown. These didn’t burst into a monochromatic blaze, but held true. They had little effect when they struck the flanks of the icewhale, its matted fur was so thick that most hit and rebounded to clatter on the ground. Those that did manage to stick their tips into whatever flesh was underneath didn’t penetrate far. They simply enraged the creature further. Its body bucked and twisted, contorting to allow its legs to scrabble at the slim poles like a dog scratching at fleas. Those Silfen who had thrown their spears started to retreat; several of them were pulling their bows around ready to shoot arrows. Ozzie had seen no sign of eyes anywhere amid the icewhale’s fur, but it seemed to know where its tormentors were. It lunged forward, giant muzzle snapping. Three tusks sliced straight through a Silfen. Jets of ebony blood squirted from the killer punctures. Then the muzzle sprang open again, ripping the body apart. Legs spun off one way, while the torso flopped to the ground. The icewhale thundered over it, and charged at another Silfen who was falling backward even as he tried to notch an arrow.
Orion screamed in horror.
“It’s all right,” Ozzie shouted. He hugged the boy, turning him away from the carnage. “I promise you he’s all right. They don’t die. Do you understand? The Silfen don’t die. They have an afterlife, a real heaven.”
The boy was shaking violently inside his embrace. “It ate him!” he wailed. “It ate him!”
“No it didn’t. It can’t. They’re too hot. It would burn its mouth away if it tried to do that.”
“But he’s dead.”
“No! I told you. The Silfen go to their own heaven. I’m not bullshitting you, man. That’s the way they are.”
Orion clung to him, his head pressed hard against Ozzie’s chest. “Will the monsters come for us? Please, Ozzie, I don’t want to die. I won’t go to heaven, I know I won’t.”
“Hey,” Ozzie squeezed reassuringly. “Yes you would. It’s me that’s headed down into the heat. Why do you think I keep having to get rejuvenated? The big bad dude with the pitchfork and an attitude is all that’s waiting for me.”
There was no answer; no smart or sarcastic comeback. Ozzie hugged the boy again, and took a quick look down at the hunt. The last of the aggressive spears from the riders had been flung, leaving the red sun victorious in the battle to light the sky. There were four icewhales on the land now, one of them even bigger than the first to emerge. Each of them was encircled by fast-moving Silfen on foot; spears and arrows were fired inward, black flecks shimmering through the air. Most still bounced off the tough lank fur, though the numbers sticking were increasing. Over a dozen Silfen were dead already, torn apart or mashed into the unyielding ground. Blood ran thick from their ruined bodies, steaming feverishly and boiling the snow before the pools and runnels started to freeze.
“Come on,” Ozzie urged. “Let’s get inside and take a major break from this bummer.” Any residual excitement he’d had at the prospect of witnessing the hunt had long since washed away beneath the guilt of bringing the boy here. He half carried him toward the nearest tent.
“They won’t come up here, will they?” Orion asked in a pitiful voice.
“No. I promise.”
Sara caught sight of them stumbling toward the tent together, and hurried over. “Are you all right?”
“No he’s fucking not,” Ozzie barked at her. “You might have told me.”
“It’s a hunt. What did you expect?”
Ozzie’s anger spluttered out. She was right. What had I expected it to be like? Just another TSI spectacular?
Sara tugged at the lacing that held the flaps on the outermost layer. Ozzie sneaked another look down below, making sure his body blocked Orion’s view. The sight was growing more surreal. The Silfen death count had risen to over twenty. Three of the elfin folk had managed to climb onto the back of an icewhale, hanging on to its fur and riding it like the wildest bronco in the galaxy. As he watched, one of them was swatted by the icewhale’s foot, tumbling a long way through the air before crashing onto rock. The surviving two were trying to thrust their spears down into the ruff of fur behind its neck, and having a hard time of it.
A second icewhale was plowing straight through a spinney of crystal trees. It was like an unstoppable bulldozer, bursting the trunks apart into dangerous sparkling shrapnel clouds as it hit them head-on. The sound was already reverberating over the escarpment, a city of glass caught in an earthquake. Silfen were having trouble dodging trees and spinning shards as they ran alongside, trying to take a shot.
As for the third icewhale… Ozzie’s brow crumpled into a frown. Five dead Silfen marked its path from the crater. The fight it had given them was tremendous, and now it was weakening, slowing. It had never been so vulnerable. Yet instead of pressing home their advantage, the blood-crazed elven folk were giving it a wide berth. Its back and flanks were pierced by over a dozen arrows and spears, its head wavered giddily from side to side. Obviously in distress, the icewhale came to an exhausted halt. As it did so, the Silfen began to form two loose lines, creating an avenue that led back to the crater. They held their spears aloft in salute. The icewhale turned sluggishly, and began its long labored trek back to the crater and the safety of the ice granules.