It turned its frosted eyes toward Annukka, eyes that glowed for a moment. Aleksia took an abortive step forward to put herself between the Sammi woman and the creature, fearing an attack.
But no attack came.
The Icehart suddenly raised its muzzle to the sky. It opened its mouth, but what came out was not its deadly cold breath, but a long, heartbroken cry, a moan that cut Aleksia to the soul and called a pain-filled sob out of her throat as well.
That note of agony hung in the air for a terrible, timeless moment.
And then, with a flash of blue-white light, the Icehart was gone.
Annukka ceased her song immediately, but the sorrow of it held them all captive, paralyzed with grief. Finally, Annukka strummed a few more notes out of her kantele — but this time, it was a child's song.
Slowly, as she played, the sorrow ebbed, faded. Kaari dried her eyes, the men turned away, stiffly; there was a flash of heat and light, and then they were free of the overburden of ice and moving easily again.
“Well played, Wise Woman,” Ilmari said, gruffly. “Clever.”
Something gleamed on the snow where the Icehart had stood. Slowly, Aleksia walked to the place and looked down.
Nestled in the snow, gleaming in the blue-white light of the Mage-light, was half of a crystal heart.
Aleksia picked it up. It was cool, but not cold, to the touch. It did not seem to be made of ice — but what could it be? What could it signify?
She brought it back to Annukka and Kaari; the Wise Woman handled it carefully, then shrugged. “I have no more notion than you,” she admitted, then rubbed her temple a little.
“But I know this. If I do not rest soon, my nose will be hitting the snow in no graceful fashion.” Aleksia looked to Ilmari, after slipping the crystal into her pocket. “Are we safe for the night, do you think?” she asked the Mage-Smith in a low voice. He regarded her thoughtfully.
“I think,” he replied, in tones of surprising courtesy, “that between you women, you have frightened it, made it grieve as it never has. I think it will not touch us now.” He regarded both her and Annukka with a new respect. “One Mage to another, lady, whether you are a Godmother as you say or not, you made good use of your powers this day.”
“Powers!” She came to herself with a start. “Urho!”
She searched for the pack that Urho had brought with him, found it and unpacked it until she found the carefully wrapped vial that she was looking for, and the pot of salve with it. She took both to where the Bear was sitting next to Kaari as she started a fire. Aleksia looked down at the girl, who was doing a good job of getting it going. “Kaari, do you feel equal to some wood gathering?” She glanced around the clearing, particularly at the two men, who looked very much as if they wanted to find a flat place to lie down.
The young woman looked up, with a serious expression on her face. “Actually, I think we should move back to where we left the sledge and set up camp there. This is just to give people a place to warm their hands.”
Aleksia nodded approval. “You are wiser. Let me treat Urho, and then we can do just that.”
The Bear raised his head with a little difficulty. I am seeing double.
She patted his massive shoulder reassuringly. “I am not surprised. But you carried your own cure on your back the entire way here. Open.”
The Bear opened his mouth obediently, and she measured exactly three drops of the cordial onto his tongue. He closed his mouth, and suddenly his eyes, which had been scrunched up in pain, relaxed.
She cleaned the blood from the fur of his head as best she could, then carefully applied tiny dabs of the salve to the gash there. It began to close almost immediately, and by the time she was done, it was half healed.
The cordial and the salve were of true Fae make, from the Elves themselves. Every Godmother had a supply; tales did not always go well, and sometimes it was necessary to patch up Heroes and Champions as well as guide them. But these things were to be used sparingly. She had only one vial and one pot, and when they were gone, the only place to get more was from the Elves themselves.
She helped Urho heave himself onto his feet, and the entire group wearily staggered to where they had left the sledge and the other two reindeer. The deer were unmolested, greedily grazing on the sweet tips of young birch saplings. Urho volunteered to drag in wood, and since he was clearly feeling a bit better, Aleksia allowed him to do so. After all, he could bring in far more than they could, with far less effort.
Meanwhile the three who had put the most effort out in the fight, Ilmari, Annukka and Lemminkal, were made to sit on the sledge while she and Kaari made camp. It was a very crude camp, and it was a good thing that no storms were threatening, because Aleksia very much doubted that the camp would have stood up to a storm. Neither of them could manage to get the hide tents up. But there was another reason why Aleksia wanted the others to allow her and Kaari to deal with making camp. She was, after all, a Godmother. And there was potential here for trouble…and potential for something other than trouble. So long as she set things up carefully.
So, she kept Kaari away from the men…and made sure that Lemminkal talked to Annukka. By the time they all rolled into their blankets, with the fire on one side, and the huge bulk of Urho providing warmth on the other, things were progressing to Aleksia's satisfaction.
15
In the morning, everything looked better. The sun was shining, and although the frozen forest was still encased in ice, it was beautiful. The air, while still bitterly cold, was not laden with the deathly chill of the Icehart's presence. Urho had been wonderful to sleep up against.
On the other hand, as soon as Aleksia moved, she wished she had not. The exposed skin on her face hurt. She had bruises where she would rather not think about. If this was being a Hero, she envied the stamina of those who did it all the time.
On the other hand, they had slept the night through undisturbed; Urho went out as soon as all the humans were awake and came back with four fish from a frozen stream. Aleksia would have felt very guilty had he returned with a rabbit or some other animal, knowing that it was still alive under that ice, and had been totally helpless, but she felt no sympathy for fish. Although she could not help with the cooking — the honest truth was that she was totally helpless when it came to that skill — she was at least able to create a subtle warming spell to make them all comfortable in the cold until the fire built up again. While the fish were grilling over the fire, Annukka declared that they were all going to be looked over and tended to.
It turned out they were all injured in some way or other. For one thing, all of them were frost-burned — like a sunburn, but caused by the Icehart's freezing breath. The skin on their faces was sensitive at the least, painful at worst. In fact, the two men were lucky that they had escaped frostbite. Had it not been for their thick hair and beards, both Lemminkal and Ilmari might well have lost the tips of their ears. And in fact, Lemminkal did lose the bottom half of his long beard, for the hair had been frozen so stiff it had, to his chagrin, actually snapped off in the cold. As it was, Annukka treated them all with salves to their tender faces, and warned them that the burned skin would slough off in a few days, and that they must be careful about further burns. Aleksia's tender forehead and nose gave her problems every time she did something that moved the skin, although she knew from past experience that once she shifted forms a time or two, that would mend itself. That was another benefit of shifting; by doing so, one could heal oneself.