2.24 The Dormance

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The lull of waves lapping against wood became the hourglass that marked their passage through the weeks. Warm winds cooled into a chill that doused their spirits, and mocked their resolve. Tomykas and Mhagi crossed the equator and the lull eventually roughened into the audible scrape of frozen water against the wood of the raft.

Ice cracked beneath the dual prows of the kayaks in the dying daylight. A field of ice, like a beach of pure white sand, reached the horizon. Their raft was the lone sign of movement in any direction. And that movement, apparently, had made Mhagi seasick. She leaned over the side of the raft and vomited onto the ice. Strange, for one born in the embrace of the sea. But fatigue had dogged them for weeks.

Tomykas stifled a sob. Mhagi had comforted his fears in the past days as much as she could muster. Just as he’d reassured her as much as he could.

Tomykas breathed across Mhagi’s back, covered only in thin silk. More than he had on, for Pelutian warriors typically forewent shirts in the heat of Welkin Ring. His lungs channeled the heat of Phyr’s breath, warming the air between them.

He watched her sip the wind, judiciously drawing in currents if air so as not to exert herself.

“Anything?”

She shook her head.

“How do you feel?’

She shook her head.

Tomykas sank down and drew her into his arms, kissing her forehead.

“What is your favorite sound?” he asked.

“The one you made last night,” she said, in a tone that sent tingles through him.

“At least the restoration ritual is easy enough for us,” he laughed.

“Love has a way of making things easy.”

“Love? I thought you just liked me for my fine—”

“Finish that sentence,” Mhagi said, eyes sparkling, “and I’ll toss you overboard.”

The jest fooled neither of them. She’d said it. She’d said out loud what he’d felt in his heart for years. Tomykas hugged her tight. “I love you too, Mhagi.”

“I got that feeling.”

“Too obvious?”

“You kept your honor. By a hair’s breadth.”

Their banter could not hide a truth that had been growing, like a boil festering beneath a splinter too stubborn to work its way out of his skin. He could only melt ice for so long. And she could only summon gusts enough to keep them moving at a snail’s pace. If they didn’t find a port, soon, no amount of innuendo would stave off their drain. They’d freeze, entwined together, as cold took them.

Her admittance of her love for him chilled Tomykas more than the frigid air. It meant she didn’t fear facing the ire of the Pelutian king again. And, since they’d hardly sealed their victory, it meant she expected to die on this frozen sea.

At least the sunsets gave them beauty to behold. Fire tinged the white ice orange, in a line from the setting sun to the hint of black water in their wake. They sighed together as the sun’s light failed, as their tradition demanded.

The sun had set, but a hint of its light remained. Tomykas watched the dark crackles of water they’d left in their path. For some reason the currents had shifted northwest under the ice, turning them to face the sunset. Eastward held nothing but frozen water and the last glimmer of sunlight. It flickered oddly in his sight.

Tomykas bolted upright.

“What is it?”

“Behind us,” he whispered. She looked over his shoulder and gasped.

“Is that… is that firelight?”

“That’s why the current changed! We must be in a bay.”

With the setting of the sun, the winds shifted. Tomykas didn’t need Mhagi to draw the scent to them: the smell of smoke wafted clearly on the wind.

“We need to go back!” he cried, setting the sails in preparation to head windward. They each took a paddle and turned the raft around, with great effort.

They’d already broken the ice eastward. Tomykas tacked against the wind. With judicious assistance from Mhagi, they drifted closer and closer to the firelight. As shore loomed closer, he saw a massive bonfire, with the silhouettes of people dancing before it. Guttural voices sang a strange song as drumbeats pounded low in the air. The sound stirred his blood.

Their raft seemed to crawl, until they got close to shore. The land rushed towards them and their craft beached with a resounding tinkle of broken of ice, startling the dancers.

Tomykas stood, looking out at a sea of bright blue eyes and blonde hair. Clad in heavy furs, they looked at his naked torso in confusion.

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“Stay down,” he told Mhagi, and hopped into the frigid water. He sucked in his breath and ran towards the shore, hopping awkwardly to keep as far out of the water as possible. His loincloth dipped into the water, chilling him. But the moment he felt land beneath his feet, he sprinted towards the fire, whooping in delight.

The crowd parted, looking on in utter amazement as he pivoted in the warmth of the flames. Twirling a finger, he coaxed a ribbon of flame to swirl around him, warming him from all sides. His audience gasped. Tomykas smiled through clattering teeth and spread his hands above his head. Whirls of flame spiraled towards him, which he spun into beautiful patterns in a mesmerizing dance of color above their heads.

A huge man barged forward. His hoary eyebrows had no color, but his ruddy cheeks made up for it.

“How? How did ye get here?’

“We sailed,” Tomykas said simply.

“Without a stitch of clothing on?”

Tomykas pointed at his loincloth. “Just the usual amount.”

The man laughed, deep and uproariously, and clapped Tomykas on the back. “If this doesn’t beat all. Never in all my years have I heard the like. It’s ice from here to Hammer Bay.” The man frowned. “And what do you mean, ‘we?’”

A whistling wind kicked up. Mhagi rose from the raft like a colorful bird, leaping into the wind and letting it carry her across the frigid waters. She landed in a rustle of silk. The women nearby stared, open mouthed, at her. A fair few of the men as well, though they had the grace to recover and look away awkwardly.

“Have ye come for the Dormance festival?” his new friend asked. “Name’s Hinreckt, by the way.”

“Tomykas. And this is Mhagi.”

“Nice to meet you, Tom. Maggie.”

Mhagi nodded. Now that they’d made land, she seemed withdrawn, and shivered.

“Pren, bring some furs!” Hinreckt bellowed. Within moments, they’d both been draped in cloaks and pulled towards the fire. Tankards of ale and rough-hewn bowls of strange stew were shoved into their hands by timid townfolk. The pair sat in a daze by the fire, eating and drinking in numb silence.

The last thing Tomykas remembered before dozing off was Mhagi’s warmth settled against his chest, warm stew in his belly, and cold ground at his back.

“Not here,” a woman’s voice murmured at his ear. “You’ll catch your death of cold by morning.”

She pulled them both to their feet and led them to a nearby hut. She fussed and shifted things around, gesturing to a makeshift bed piled with blankets. “This’ll do for the night. We’ll watch after your boat.”

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“But, we can’t stay here in Cantleport!” Tomykas said, his voice rising, sending puffs of steam into the cold morning air. He and Mhagi sat at a long, rough-hewn table across from Hinreckt and Pren, who looked at each other in concern. Villagers bustled about the town, giving the strangers space, and pretending not to listen.

“It’s the Dormance,” Pren said, tugging at her blonde braid nervously. “Nobody’ll be headed this way nor out for months.”

“We have to get to the mountains,” Tomykas said, taking Mhagi’s hand.

Hinreckt peered at him in suspicion. “Which mountains?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, there are three ranges, each in a different direction. The Avaunt Mountains run from there” he pointed northwest, “to there.” He swept his arm nearly to the east, encompassing almost half of the horizon. “A couple month’s walk from here and about three month’s walk from end to end. Beyond those, there’s the Hiemal Peaks, let’s say a couple months walk straight north-- if you survive the pass over the Avaunt Mountains. Most wouldn’t even attempt to glance at it until summer. Speaking of summer, there’s the Summerling Ridge. It’s a few week’s walk east, then runs south about, oh, what would you say, Pren?’

“About four months, if you walked 12 hours a day.” She narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t recommend the walk if you’re pregnant, though.”

“I’m not pregnant!” Tomykas said, feeling foolish the moment the words left his mouth. He turned. “Mhagi?”

She stared at her hands, wringing them together. When she turned her face to his, her eyes glistened.

“I didn’t want to tell you. When we were on the ice. I didn’t know if we’d make it.”

“You… you’re with child?’

She nodded.

Tomykas stared at her, mind whirling. They’d made a child on the sea? The poetry of it moved him and he broke into a huge grin. His smile lit her up. Tomykas pulled her close, kissing her and touching her belly.

“That won’t happen for awhile,” Pren laughed.

Tomykas stood and whooped to the nearby villagers. “We’re going to have a child!”

Hinreckt coughed and muttered low, in what passed for discretion. “You, um, you and Maggie haven’t been with each other long, I take it?”

Tomykas stopped smiling. “We have to get to the mountains.”

“But you don’t know which ones.”

“No. They’re rounded. Old. Flush with elk and geese.”

“Blue sky, with yellow fields in the background,” Mhagi added.

“Who described them to you? Where do they live?’

Tomykas looked at Mhagi and fell silent.

“By Algidon’s balls, you two are odd ones. All we get through here are crusty old scholars, treasure seekers, and thrillseekers. You don’t fit into any category.”

“Particularly not the second,” Pren said, handing Mhagi a bundle wrapped in gray wool. She opened it and Tomykas saw a glint of Mhagi’s golden torc before she draped the wool back over. Pren paused a moment. “That sounds like Summerling Ridge. The north part. The closest, in fact.”

“Yes, ye might try one of the villages that way,” Hinreckt agreed. “Farmers, mostly. You ever held a plow, Tom?”

“Only a spear.”

“Good hunting over that way.”

Tomykas stood. “Very well. Point us that way and we’ll be off.”

Hinreckt and Pren stared, then laughed at the same time.

“Not until the Dormance passes. Unless you’d like to freeze. I know ye can summon flame… but not for a month’s walk straight. Stay here a couple months until the Emergence Festival, and then you can walk safely.”

“I appreciate your advice, but we’ll manage.”

Hinreckt scowled and put his hand on Tomykas’s shoulder. “It’s not advice, boy. It’s plain facts. You’ve no food. No clothing. No shoes! You don’t know where you’re going, and if you did, the ice won’t let up for another couple months. When it does, you can travel easier with more people to barter with, and more game to hunt.”

Tomykas looked past Hinreckt at the icy sea.

“Whoever is following you isn’t likely to make it through that. I told you, I’ve never heard its like. Now let’s talk about what you’ll take in trade for that fine raft of yours, get you some clothes and a place to stay, and see about making you some boots. You can use the time to pitch in around here and get your strength back.”