In silence Wendel and Dr. Medes made their way back to the entrance of the tunnel where the dogs had been staying. It was warm enough inside the tunnel in spite of the ground being made of stone and ice. Dr. Medes spread out a blanket. Wendel did not feel uncomfortable sleeping inside a rock and ice tunnel. Sleep came easily for Wendel. This was an unusual occurrence for him, the next day he wondered if it was because he had been exhausted down to his bone from the day’s exertions.

He awoke to Dr. Mendes shaking him gently by the shoulders. She still had not yet spoken since they left the sight of the giant snowflake, and that seemed to be the appropriate response. Wendel got up, checked his gear as best he knew how, and heard the sound of stone grinding and knew the tunnel was opening. The day was well begun already, the sun high in the air, and they began the trek back.

Once they were a respectable distance from the tunnel, Wendel turned to Dr. Mendes and asked, “So, is that it? That’s all we came here to do?”

She looked at him wryly and said, “Yes Wendel, that’s all we came here to do.”

He started, “But, I thought, I thought you were a thaumatological forensics-”

She cut him off before he could finish the thought, “We always use our resources Wendel. We always use whatever resources we have on hand. Remember that. There’s no reason for me to go through a deeply involved forensic procedure when I can simply ask someone that knows what happened.”

He tried again, “But how do you know the-”

“Do you doubt the knowledge of a being capable of showing us what happened in our minds directly? Do you doubt the images you saw?”

Wendel felt himself resign. He understood that he wasn’t going to get anywhere arguing with Dr. Mendes. He also understood that he didn't want to argue with Dr. Mendes. It seemed so anti-climatic. He had done his thesis study on forensics, and he knew that Dr. Mendez had a double doctorate. He had never read a paper she was the lead author of, but had read many papers on which she was given co-authorship. They were sent here because she was this renowned investigator. Now they were leaving.

They continued uneventfully back through the mountains. Eventually he began to feel like they were going to get out of this frozen hell. They had broke for camp only once to eat and it was an empty conversation, and she had asked to see his hands again. He had been remembering to swing them as he walked and tried to keep pace with her. He seemed not to be suffering from the same sickness as the day before. She said it was something to do with homeostasis and adjusting to the elevation.

They began their trek down the final slope and he could see the village that was employing them. He wondered how much money they had paid her to investigate this, he wanted to ask her but he did not want her to think he was implying that he deserved a cut of the profits. Unbeknownst to Wendel, Dr. Medes was here pro bono for reasons that were her own.

Back in the village, there was a crowd of people waiting for them at the base of the slope. The village chieftain led the crown. He was a grizzled old man with wild white hair marred only by a few specks of black that hung on. His eyes were set deep in his sun hardened skin. He approached Dr. Mendes and asked her if she had discovered if the avalanche had been the work of an evil wizard, or perhaps some other sort of evil entity, cursing their village for something they had done. Some offense they had unknowingly perpetrated. Wendel could hardly understand the man, for his thick accent and his gruff manner of speech.

Dr. Mendes bowed her respects, and Wendel felt obligated to bow as well. She explained loud enough for everyone in the crowd to hear that this was simply a natural occurrence. She used the exact same phrase that the crystal had used, “The mountain takes with the same hand that the mountain gives.” That seemed to appease the village chieftain. There was little that could be done for the freshly dug graves on the outside of town or the destroyed houses and fields.

Wendel consoled himself, telling himself that this was in fact a victory somehow. They discovered what they came here to discover and they would be moving on from this frozen hellscape soon. He hoped.

They were offered hospitality. The chieftain explained that in spite of the fact that the news they came back with was negative, a feast would be thrown in their honor. Dr. Mendes politely declined, she took what gear was theirs from the dogsled and returned the dogs to their owners. Wendel was awestruck at all this, he thought a feast sounded lovely and he felt that a night indoors would be a welcome respite.

Wendel tried to voice his objections, but Dr. Mendes said they had to keep moving. She informed him that there was another incident that needed to be investigated. Something about a flood. Wendel tried again as they were leaving the village, “Dr. Mendes, um, I don’t want to be rude. Or ask anything from beyond my station, but…” Wendel stammered for a moment as Dr. Mendes stared full into his eyes and then he forced himself to finish the question, “Did he pay you?”

She gave him a long sideways glance before finally answering, “No, Wendel. He didn’t pay me.”

“What!? What about the University, won’t they expect reimbursement for the travel funds, and-”

She cut him off, “No, Wendel. The University doesn’t expect such things from me. You’ll understand if you ever have your own doctorate. Some of the things that the University investigates are things that simply need to be investigated. Often times the locals in areas like this can’t afford to offer much more than hospitality.” They were on the outskirts of the town now, making their way back down the foothills.

Some distance passed before she decided to continue the thought, “If we had stayed for this feast that they were offering us, we would have been taking a large chunk out of their winter store. It would not have been right.”

Wendel’s mouth started before his thoughts had fully coalesced, “Well…” He couldn’t think of anything else to add, and let the word fall.

The trail leading back through the foothills was a winding switchback, and now that they were carrying only the packs on their back, Wendel was seriously wondering where they were going to sleep that night. He knew it was getting late, though he couldn’t see exactly where the sun was in the sky for all the trees and hills. It was getting darker though. The air had warmed up significantly as they made their way down the slopes to the lower elevations, but he knew that once the sun was down completely it was going to be very cold.

He thought he’d try a sideways approach at voicing his concern, “So, where are we heading next, somewhere to get horses?”

She stopped and looked through him before answering, “No, Wendel, we’re not heading somewhere to get horses.”

“Well-” He stammered and she interrupted him.

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“Wendel, do you remember yesterday, when I asked you why you asked to be assigned to me?”

Wendel’s mind snapped back to that moment, when he felt like he was going to die. When his hands were puffy and unfeeling. She had tucked his gloves into his belt. “Yes, I remember.” He said.

“You never really answered my question. You said that you loved my work. And you found it fascinating. And I asked you specifically what area of my field of expertise you found so fascinating.”

They were moving again as they spoke, and making good time now. There was no longer snow on the ground around them. The trees seemed to be getting thicker, and the road was windy and narrow, laced like a thread between the thick foliage.

Wendel considered for a moment before he spoke, “I’ve read a number of papers on which you were cited. Everyone back at the University talks about you as if you were a legend-”

She interrupted him, “See, that’s just it. Everyone talks about me, but very few people actually understand what it is that I do. If I’m going to take you on as an apprentice,” she had emphasized the ‘if’ so strongly that Wendel felt it like a slap, “I need to know why you want to be my apprentice.”

Wendel paused again, stopped walking and looked all around himself. He stared at the trees and the light filtering through the leaves. He considered the question. He thought of Dr. Medes at the head of the lecture hall, how she had looked in front of the class. Her skin so dark it seemed she was cut from obsidian, her strange black on black eyes, and the command! The woman could take a room and control it with just words. He didn’t remember what the lecture was about, but he knew that he had fallen in love with her listening to her speak.

He decided he would try with one of her stories that he had read firsthand after hearing about, “The were-rats of Norn?” He stammered, barely getting the words out.

“The were-rats!” She repeated, “Of Norn, were very sick creatures. I was doing a mercy. A kindness to them. They would have died on their own and taken as many of the people living in Norn with them on the way. It was like putting down a rabid dog. Do you understand that Wendel? Do you understand that that was a kindness and not the brave act of a hero slaying a beast?”

“Well, I guess so. I read your account you know, but nobody talks about that story like that.”

“No Wendel. Nobody talks about that story like that, because the truth is not romantic.”

His mind was searching for other stories he had heard and read about he and landed upon one of his favorites, “What about that rock titan?”

“Ahh,” She may have smiled but Wendel wasn’t sure, “I remember the rock titan. Yes! Not a bad fellow, once you got to understand his side of things. The dwarves had been mining into the mountain for years and when they stumbled upon his lair-”

“Wait!” He interrupted her, and realized that it was the first time he had actually interrupted her, “What really happened? Everyone says that you defeated the rock titan, and the dwarves were so grateful they-”

“Yes, yes. That ‘they showered the University with their gold and gems.’ I don’t think it would be for the best if someone like you knew the full details of that story. I would like you to understand that the rock titan was not such a bad creature. And that I handled the situation the best I could. What the dwarves think happened was what the dwarves needed to think happened. What the University thinks happened was what the University needed to think happened. Wendel, do you understand the word politics?”

“I mean, I know the definition of the word.” He sounded indignant and petty. He hated what he could hear in his own voice, but he couldn’t help it. She’s belittling me!

“Let us call this a probationary period. We were both told that you were destined for greatness, and a creature that is older than humanity is rarely wrong, but the word greatness can mean many things, not all of them positive. Let us assume that I am going to allow you to travel with me, if I do, there are some things you need to understand. Not everything we do is exactly as it appears. There are many different kinds of truth in the world. Do you understand, Wendel?”

“Yes. I mean, I think I understand.”

She stopped walking and looked him in the eye, “No, you don’t understand at all. But you will, you will in time.” The forest had seemed to change as they made progress, where they now stood there were tall and skinny trees, spaced farther apart, and Wendel looked past the doctor, and could see faint shadows of movement amongst the trees. “Shh!” She cautioned him, and he realized that he had stepped on a twig trying to look past her.

“What?” He tried to whisper to her, and was shocked by how far he felt his voice carry in the near silence. She put her finger to her lip again in the universal gesture of silence, and he thought her black on black eyes darted around mady, but it was hard to say for sure. She gestured to him again with hand-signals that he didn’t understand, and he was beginning to think that he was going to have to explain to her that he must have missed a class or two because he had never before seen this weird language of gestures that she used so frequently.

An arrow hit the ground near their feet. It didn’t lodge itself into the ground, but rather fell over onto its side. Wendel jumped back aghast and made a small fearful sound. He was in mortal fear for his life, and he began conjuring a spell. Dr. Mendes slapped him. She slapped hard across his cheek. It stung and hurt both his face and his pride. It broke his focus and the defensive ward he was casting dissipated in his mind.

Several skinny and ugly looking men began making themselves visible, stepping onto the trail from the treeline. Wendel noticed that quite a few of them were women as well. They all looked filthy, wearing tattered clothes, faces covered in dirt, hair unkempt and matted. Each amongst them carried some sort of crude implement of destruction, some as crude as a stone tied to a branch. Others carried ‘bows’ made from green saplings. This is it, Wendel thought, I’m finally going to see why everyone at the University calls this woman a hero.

The largest and probably healthiest member of this group stepped in front of them. He was a broad shouldered man with a barrel chest. He wore a bushy beard that seemed to have things living in it, perhaps an entire ecosystem. He said in a gruff voice, “Drop your packs. Drop your packs and empty out your pockets.”

The doctor just stood there meeting his gaze with her own black on black stare. She said in a calm voice, “And if we don’t?”

“Well, if…” The man seemed to be wanting to look anywhere but her eyes, stammering out a response, “If you don’t. We’ll kill you, and take your stuff anyway.”

She seemed to be considering this and said, “Hmm, well. If you’re going to kill us and take our stuff anyway then you had better just get to killing us.” Wendel couldn’t feel any sort of a spell being conjured, and watched this exchange speechless.

“Oh! Come now!” The man with the big beard said, “We don’t actually want to kill you! We’d prefer it if you’d just drop your stuff on the ground, right!?”

She took in the small crowd of skinny filthy bandits before she started again, “None of you want to kill us, and we don’t want to give you our belongings. Perhaps we can come to some sort of a bargain. What is it that you plan to do with our equipment, maybe I can be of assistance.”

The man seemed to be completely confused by this train of questioning. There was a murmur spreading the ranks of the people around him. The doctor started speaking again and her voice carried over the grumbling crowd, “I’m a doctor, as it were. If there is anyone in your group that is injured or sick, I have quite a bit of medicine with me. I’m also very well travelled and quite knowledgeable about fixing things. If you have any equipment in need of repair, or whatever sort of dwellings you are living in need maintenance, perhaps I could help you with that.” She seemed to be appraising the group as she spoke, her eyes moving from one filthy face to the next, “But if you leave us without our blankets, without our food. We’re as good as dead. Whether you want to draw the knife or not. You don’t have the look of a killer. I know what killers look like.” She drew her upper lip back in what may have been a smile but to Wendel’s untrained eye seemed to be more of a snarl.

In a much softer voice, the man spoke again, staring at his feet, “My daughter. She’s sick. Back at the camp.”

“Ahh!” Said the doctor, “I might be able to help you with that, but I won’t be able to help you at all if you take our packs, and blankets and clothes.”

“All right!” He said gruffly, and he set his club down on the ground and leaned upon it, “But no trickery!”

The doctor looked at him, and the most innocent of smiles crept across her face. “Of course not.” she said “Lead the way.”

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