Blue Fire and Ice (34 page)

Veering towards the wall, Brian continued to make patterns in the snow. He hopped on one foot, he hopped on both feet, he skipped, he leapt, he even walked on tiptoes. He did what he had hardly ever done in his life.

He played.

Brian played in the snow until he found that he had hopped and skipped all the way to the base of the cliff. Almost running nose first into half a mountain brought him back to his old self.

He checked the sun, which was now above the horizon. ‘Oh, bother,’ he said. ‘I think I’m a bit late. The others will be waiting for me.’ He turned and walked as quickly as he could, following the base of the cliff in the direction of the camp.

Thousands of years before, that very place was shaken by the thunderous roar of crashing rocks as the mountain split in two. When the clashing and smashing had stopped, half the mountain lay strewn on the ridge, a jumble of boulders and rock. The mountain had no idea that thousands of years later, the debris left from tearing itself asunder would cause the finest Factotum Beadledom had ever had to be late.

‘Oh, bother!’ thought Brian. ‘I shall just have to climb over.’ And so he did. As nimbly as he could, he scrambled up the rocks. Now, at any time, for anyone, Beadle, Muddle or Myrmidot, it would have been quite an effort scrambling over those boulders. But at that time, for that particular Beadle, it was extra challenging. Covered in snow and ice, the rocks and boulders proved a formidable obstacle.

In later years, when he pondered what to put in his book about his life as an adventuring Factotum, Brian decided that he would include a warning to his readers that, should they find themselves atop a large snow-capped boulder, and wish to get to the next, they should consider any method except one; they should not, under any circumstances, take a running jump. For that is what Brian did. He took two quick steps on the icy rock, and leapt.

‘My feet shouldn’t be up there,’ he decided, seeing his feet high above his head. ‘And why is the sky under them?’ Brian soared straight up into the air and then soared straight back down again. He landed on his back with a solid thump.

‘Ooomph!’ he said. And everything went black.

*

‘He’s missed breakfast,’ said Dot.

Aunt Mag was worried. ‘Brian has never missed anything in his life. Something’s wrong.’

‘Shouldn’t be hard to find him,’ said Crimson. ‘His are the only tracks. I’ll go and look for him, in case something is wrong.’

‘Do you mind if I go with you?’ asked Dot.

‘Not at all, Dot. Come on, let’s go.’

‘We’ll harness Miniver and get the sledge ready to go. We don’t want to lose any more time,’ said Grunge.

Crimson and Dot set off, following Brian’s tracks. Everything seemed normal until they got to the northern edge of the ridge, where they turned west, still following the tracks. After a few paces, they stopped, puzzled.

‘The footprints are strange,’ said Dot, looking bewildered and amused. ‘You don’t think he was …’

Crimson nodded. ‘I do,’ she said, suppressing a laugh. ‘I think Brian was …’

Crimson and Dot looked at each other and then, in unison, exclaimed, ‘Playing!’

They laughed. And they couldn’t stop laughing as they followed Brian’s trail.

It probably was a bit mean for them to make fun of poor Brian but the idea of the serious little Beadle playing games in the snow seemed too unbelievable. So they began making up tragic and silly stories about Brian’s fate until they had followed his tracks to the rocks.

Crimson froze. She stared at the cliff face. This place was … wrong.

‘He climbed over the rocks,’ observed Dot. She noticed the look on Crimson’s face and her laughter faded.

‘Crimson?’ Dot cast a worried look at the Muddle. ‘Are you OK?’

Crimson nodded. She pushed the feeling aside. ‘He must have figured out that the camp was just on the other side and didn’t want to walk all the way back and around.’

‘I’ll bet he’s back at camp, now,’ said Dot.

‘You’re probably right,’ sighed Crimson. ‘We should make a move.’ She looked at the mass of snow-covered fallen rock. ‘Those rocks look slippery. Maybe we’d better go back the way we came,’ she said.

‘We’re late getting started as it is. If Brian made it OK, we can,’ said Dot.

Crimson ‘You’re right. Let’s go. But be careful.’

They found Brian between the two boulders, still unconscious. Dot made it across the rocks and to the camp to get help. By the time she returned with Grunge, Copper and Aunt Mag, Brian was sitting up, Crimson’s arm around his shoulder. He was dazed and miserable.

Grunge dropped down between the rocks, next to Crimson and Brian. ‘How is he?’ he asked anxiously.

‘He’ll be OK. Just a large bump,’ said Crimson.

‘Slipped … feet … up … ohhhh,’ said Brian with understated eloquence.

‘Can you walk?’ asked Copper.

‘Have feet … have boots … walking boots…’ Brian tried to nod but his head hurt and he decided the words were sufficient.

‘We’ll get you back to camp and you can rest, Brian. We’ll wait until you’re ready,’ said Crimson.

The plucky Beadle got to his feet slowly. ‘Fine … walk… Oww!’

‘Which one of us is going to carry him?’ said Copper good-naturedly to Grunge.

Aunt Mag bustled forward. She was no bigger than Brian, but she grabbed the dazed Beadle and tucked him under one arm like one of the toddlers at her nursery.

‘Men!’ she sniffed, and walked briskly away with poor Brian under her arm like an oversized doll.

Back at the camp, they sat Brian on a rock and gave him a cup of fresh, hot coffee.

‘Thank you,’ said Brian, whose brain seemed to have started working again. ‘I’m feeling much better now.’ He looked at the sun. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve held us up. We’d better get going.’ He tried to stand, and winced. ‘Oww!’

‘You’re not going anywhere, Brian,’ said Aunt Mag firmly. ‘You haven’t got the sense of a piggy bank!’

Crimson patted Brian’s shoulder. ‘Aunt Mag is right, Brian. You’d better stay at the camp. We’ll go to the snowfield, get the ice and then come back here for the night. If we do find another trail down from the snowfield we’ll start there tomorrow.’

The others nodded. Except Miniver, who had been standing patiently in her harness.

‘Are you sure he’ll be all right? He looks very pale,’ she growled.

‘Maybe Miniver is right. Perhaps one of us should stay and look after him,’ said Grunge.

Brave Brian raised his hand in protest. ‘No, you’ll need to get the ice as quickly as possible to make it back before dark. You should all go. I’ll be fine.’

‘Just rest then, Brian, but don’t fall asleep. Not after a nasty bang on the head like that,’ Aunt Mag admonished him. ‘There’s food in the pack there.’

Dot came out of the tent carrying a sleeping bag. She unzipped it and wrapped it around Brian.

‘Here,’ she said awkwardly. ‘To keep you warm.’

‘Thank you, Dot,’ said Brian, wondering why the back of his head hurt when he attempted a smile.

He watched his companions set off east along the ridge towards the snowfield and the blue-capped mountain. He lifted an arm draped in the sleeping bag and waved.

‘Did Aunt Mag say I was supposed to sleep or not supposed to sleep?’ he wondered.

*

They made good time to the end of the ridge where it met the mountain peak. The mountain rose steeply but evenly above them. It would be a tiring climb but they felt refreshed and heartened at being so close to their goal. The snow was firm but not icy and the walking poles Dot had given them made their progress easier.

It was a glorious day. The sun shone brightly and the sky was a clearer, deeper blue than any could remember seeing.

‘It’s the same sun that shines down on Home and the same sky overhead,’ thought Grunge. ‘So why does the sunshine seem brighter and the sky more blue?’ He would have to ask Professor Weevil when they returned to Home.

As noon approached, they could see the crest of the peak a few hundred paces ahead. The climb was steeper and the snow icier. Aunt Mag and Grunge made harnesses from the ropes and helped pull the sledge up the peak, while Crimson, Copper and Dot pushed.

‘You’ve nice manners, Copper, and it’s kind of you to offer, but I think it would be better if I pulled,’ said Aunt Mag, in a tone that made it clear she’d brook no argument. ‘Too many years toting toddlers, not picking up pencils, Copper,’ she added kindly.

Each hundred paces took longer than five hundred had done at the start of the day. Yet they pushed and pulled and trudged on and at last they stood at the topmost point of the mountain.

The snowfield stretched out before them, a glistening valley of ice between two mountains. It was breathtaking; a crisp, unspoiled blanket of white ice. But it was the blue that made them catch their breath. Dazzling points of gleaming blue dotted the surface, as if a giant had cast thousands of pale, sparkling sapphires across its surface. They caught the sun and sent out countless flashing points the colour of the summer sky.

The snowfield originated in a mountain to the north, a juggernaut of snow and ice the mountain couldn’t hold. So it crept down the mountain, passing between two peaks. The one they stood on, and the one opposite. The mountain with a cap of lustrous blue ice.

It was that far peak that held their eyes. The blue of its ice was lighter than the blue of the sky and gleamed as if lit from below by a sun of its own. It was like a beacon, even during daylight, a sparkling spire of rock and ice in the heart of the mountains.

The blue peak occasionally let loose its ice, mixing it with the pure white of the snowfield. A handful of blue frozen crystals mixed with tons of ordinary snow. But it was enough. Enough to keep the fire rock beneath the white snow from bursting into flames.

‘This is what Girth saw,’ said Crimson in a hushed voice. ‘He and his friends must have stood here and looked at the mountain, just as we’re looking.’

‘Oh, my!’ exclaimed Aunt Mag. ‘Oh my goodness! I would never have imagined it would be so … beautiful!’ Sadness flitted across her face. ‘I wish poor Brian could have seen this.’

‘What makes it shine like that, Copper?’ asked Dot, eyes wide with wonder.

‘I’m not sure, Dot.’ He smiled. ‘I’m finding more and more on this trip I’m not sure about.’

‘We’d better get started,’ said Crimson. ‘It won’t take us long to get across the snowfield. Then we’ll have to find a way up to the ice.’

Grunge patted Miniver. ‘Ready?’ he asked her. ‘Then we can head for Home.’

‘Ready,’ she growled, adding, ‘It’ll be nice to get back to Home.’ And she hoped Professor Weevil had been busy making jam.

The companions set off down the slope, towards the wide expanse of snow and ice. Towards the gleaming tower of rock and blue ice ahead.

Chapter 13

B
rian watched his friends until they disappeared at the far end of the ridge. His head hurt and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep.

‘No, I’m sure Aunt Mag said not to sleep,’ he told himself. ‘I’ll make some coffee. That’ll help me stay awake.’

Brian made the coffee and sat in the quiet of the mountains, his steaming coffee cup in his mittened hands. His head didn’t hurt as much and he felt warmer, but he could still feel his body telling him it wanted sleep and his eyelids begin to droop.

‘If I sit here, I’ll fall asleep,’ he said aloud. ‘I think I’ll go for a little walk to keep myself awake.’

Thinking he would like to see where he fell, Brian wandered alongside the row of rocks that bordered the camp, towards the cliff face and the rocks that had been his downfall. It was a short walk in the brilliant sunlight and crisp, fresh air and before long his head began to feel better and the tiredness had disappeared.

At the pile of fallen rocks, he could see where his friends had climbed up and over to rescue him. For a moment he was tempted to climb up and view the scene of his accident.

‘But what if I fall again?’ he said to himself. ‘There’s no one to rescue me again now and I could freeze to death lying there.’

Instead, he ambled around, wondering at the size of some of the rocks that lay piled on top of one another.

‘It must have made quite a noise,’ he thought. He peered between two enormous rocks, each bigger than a house. They had fallen a few paces apart, right up against the cliff face. A slab of the cliff face and other large boulders had come to rest on top of the two rocks, making a small, covered space. Brian peered inside. Dim light filtered through the rocks.

‘Just like a little house,’ he said, and stepped inside. ‘Or like the portico in front of the library.’

His eyes adjusted to the dark. Small boulders were scattered about and here and there snow had fallen through and sprinkled the ground. He was just about to leave when he saw something that surprised him.

A footprint. In one of the patches of snow was a single footprint. He peered more closely to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. It was definitely a footprint, a single footprint leading away from the cliff face. He scanned the ground. There was little light and he had to concentrate. He spotted another, a couple of paces from the first. Brian was puzzled. The second footprint led towards the shadow of the cliff face.