The Palace of Glass (11 page)

“It's . . . hard to explain,” she said. “How long until dawn?”

Flicker shook his head. “I remember that. When the sun comes up, right? We don't have it here. I told you, it's just cold and dark.” He gestured with his spear. “Do you need to rest? Otherwise we should keep moving.”

THE FROZEN FORTRESS

N
O SUN, AND
NO
moon.
It was no wonder the fire-sprites never came up to the surface.

The landscape was bleak and unwelcoming. They'd come up out of a crack in the ground at the base of a range of hills stretching off in both directions. Facing the other way, a row of jagged mountain peaks were visible only as blots against the stars, reminding Alice uncomfortably of the bowl of mountains surrounding Esau's fortress. In between was a dusty plain, scattered with a few rocks and the occasional glint of a frozen-over stream.

Not dust, she realized as they started walking.
Ash.
The stuff was pale gray and as light as powder, puffing
around their feet when they moved and leaving a clear trail of footprints behind them. Here and there, wind tugged it up into tiny ash-devils, gray whirlwinds that danced around them like playful spirits.

Flicker led the way with confidence, sighting
down his
spear at the distant shapes of the mountains to get his bearings. His long, glowing hair was a beacon, throwing red and yellow light all around them, like a pool of life amid a gray, dead emptiness.

After a while, to break the silence as much as anything else, she said, “Why
do
you come up here, if there's nothing to see?”

“It must look stupid to you,” Flicker said. “You can walk through a book into any world you like, and I have to scrape and crawl to get
here
.” He waved a hand at the bleak landscape. “It wasn't always like this.”

“You . . . remember?”

Flicker's lip twisted. “That's right. My spark made sure of it. I look out at this and I remember a time when the Heartfire was so strong, rivers of molten rock ran across the land, and my people lived under the stars.”

“What happened?”

“Every year, it gets a little weaker, a little cooler. Every
year we move down a little farther. Every year there are fewer of us. Eventually, there'll be nothing left but ash. I used to think there might be something else to find if we looked up instead of down.”

“Does Pyros know about this?” Alice said.

“Of course. Everyone knows. But they'd rather not think about it. Pyros says we can trust the
Readers
to help us.”

“A Reader
could
help you,” Alice said cautiously. “If you could use the portal-book, you could find a new home.”

“And what would we have to pay for it?” Flicker waved again at the dead world. “My spark told me that it was the Readers who caused all of this in the first place! That the Heartfire began to weaken when they locked away the portals in their books and their libraries.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I have no idea. But I know what happened to my spark. Your precious master wrote him into a prison-book, and traded him to some other Reader like a pretty stone.”

Oh.
Alice fell into silence. Pyros had said that Flicker's spark was gone, and she'd wondered if he'd been killed by the bluechill or another monster.
But Geryon took him.
In spite of the sprite's vicious tone, she felt a sudden kinship with Flicker.
Does Geryon haunt his nightmares too?

Flicker was clearly fuming, his hair brighter than normal and laced with yellow and white. Alice waited a few minutes, trudging carefully across the monotonous landscape, before she spoke again.

“Not every Reader is like Geryon.”

“Oh no?” Flicker turned on his heel, eyes blazing like twin stars. “And I suppose you're going to tell me that
you're
one of the good ones?”

“I . . .” The image of her father's sad, disappointed face flashed through her mind, and she willed it away. “I
try
to be. I've never trapped anyone in a prison-book.”

“You've used prison-books, though. You've bound creatures.”

“Only animals. Beasts. Not people.”
Except the tree-sprite. But I refused to kill it! And the Dragon. But that's different!

“That makes it better? You'd take someone like Ishi and trap him in a prison forever, just for your own power, and it's better because he doesn't
understand
?” Flicker squared off against her, as though about to throw a punch, and his eyes were so bright, Alice couldn't look directly at them. “I helped you, Reader, because we're
better
than you. And I'm helping you now because Pyros says I have to. But none of that means I have to like you or
forget what you are. You're the one who chose to pursue power at the cost of other people's lives, so
stop making excuses
.”

Flicker shook his head, a wave of blue-white sliding through his hair. “I'm wasting my time, aren't I?” he said, turning away. “Come on. We've still got a ways to go.”

Alice didn't move. Anger squeezed her lungs and wrapped itself around her heart. For a fleeting moment, she fought down an overpowering urge to pull on her threads, to summon monsters into the world and blot this impudent sprite out of existence. It was, she imagined, how Geryon must feel, how all the old Readers must feel; utterly secure in the knowledge that everyone and everything around them existed only on their sufferance, because they chose not to wield their immense power. Their cruelty was the cruelty of elephants to insects—a casual indifference, until a bite began to itch, and then obliteration with a flick of the trunk.

And behind the anger, hiding in its shadow, a darker feeling she didn't want to acknowledge.
Guilt.

Alice forced herself to take a deep breath.
I'm not like them. I'm
not
.

“I didn't choose this,” she said. “I don't mean to make excuses, but it's the truth. Geryon killed my father and
brought me to live with him. Once he knew I had the talent to be a Reader, he told me I could be his apprentice or have my mind erased.”

Flicker cocked his head. “Then why serve him?
You
can use the portal-books. You could go to any world you like.”

“He might follow me,” Alice said, but it didn't sound convincing. Because Flicker was right, as far as it went. She probably
could
lose herself somewhere in the infinite worlds of the library, especially if Ending was willing to keep her secrets. But that wasn't good enough. “And . . .”

His burning eyes were steady on hers. “And what?”

“And he has to pay for what he did. There's no one to make sure he does but me.”

Flicker stared. Alice rubbed her face with her sleeve and sucked in a great lungful of the cold air.

“That's why I'm here,” she said. “Why I'm going to the Palace of Glass.”

“You never got Pyros' call for help, then.”

She shook her head.

“Then why risk your life for us at all?”

“I didn't think you'd be willing to help, with the bluechill out there,” Alice said.

“We wouldn't have had any choice, if you'd demanded it in Geryon's name.”

“I . . .” Alice hesitated for a moment, then finally shrugged. “I don't know. It seemed fair.”

Flicker regarded her for a moment longer, then turned away again. “Come on,” he repeated. “Still a ways to go.”

Eventually they came to a hill with a fast-flowing river wrapped around one side of it. Flicker led Alice to the top, and from there she was able to see quite a long way. The river flowed toward a stone wall about fifteen feet high, and passed underneath it through a low archway. Behind it, several towers rose even higher, turreted tops black against the stars. Lights glowed behind the windows, giving off a blue-green radiance that had looked more like the devilfish's glow than a proper fire.

In the center of the wall was an iron-barred gate. Standing beside it was an enormous woman, easily nine or ten feet tall, with skin the blue-white of old ice and frost-white hair. She wore a conical helmet and carried a long-handled ax whose blade glittered in the light as though it too were made of ice.

“I take it your memories don't include anything like that?” Alice said.

Flicker shook his head. “I told you someone would be using the
gate.”

“Who are they?”

“I don't know,” Flicker said. “Pyros might. It's been a long time since we had contact with any other peoples. Does it matter? I don't imagine they pose any more threat to you than we do.”

“I'm not going to force my way through,” Alice said. She was slightly chagrined to find she'd automatically been thinking about how she would fight the ice woman. “I don't just attack people for no reason.”

“What are we going to do, then?”

“Talk to them, for a start.”

ERDRODR OF NO NAME

T
HE ICE
WOMAN HEFTED
her ax a little, testing the balance.

“Ho, there!” she said, voice deep but surprisingly melodious. “Travelers, are you?”

Alice nodded. “I'm Alice,” she said. “And this is Flicker.”

“I am Byrvorda the Keen-Eyes. It has been long since we have seen a human, and longer still since a fire-kin has visited our lands. What do you seek in the domain of Helga the Ice Flower?”

“There is a wild portal in your fortress, I think,” Alice said politely. “We would like to go through it, and come back this way later.”

Byrvorda frowned. “The curtain is within, aye. What business have you in the land beyond?”

“I'm going to visit the Palace of Glass,” Alice said.

“The Palace?” The ice giant made a curious gesture with one hand, then spat in the ash at her feet. Her spittle made a tinkling sound as it shattered into frozen droplets. “You won't be coming back, then, more fool you. But it matters not. Helga the Ice Flower has decreed that the castle is closed to all outsiders until her return.”

“When will she be back?” Alice said.

Byrvorda shrugged. “Who can say? Helga hunts in the land beyond the portal, and she will travel as far as her whim takes her. When she returns, we will feast.”

“We're just passing through,” Alice said. “We won't stay long in your castle, I promise.”

“Helga's decrees are absolute, human,” the ice giant said. “In truth, even when she returns, I do not fancy your chances. She is not fond of your kind, though I daresay she might keep the fire-kin for a pet. They have grown rare in these lands.”

“Flicker is not a pet,” Alice said.

“And she is not just a
human,
” Flicker said, sliding his hand down his spear. “She is a
Reader
. Do you have any idea what that means?”

The giant shrugged again. “I have heard stories. Readers are said to be most formidable creatures, though I must say she does not look it.” She cocked her head, hand returning to her ax. “Is it to be war, then, Reader? Will you match your strength against mine?”

“I'm trying to
help
you—” Flicker began.

Alice cut him off. “No, Flicker.”

“Wise, for a human. You ought to be wise enough to give up your journey. The Palace is cursed.”

“Can you tell us when Helga returns?” Alice said.

“You will know,” the ice giant said. “The castle will come alive with feasting and song. If her hunt was a success, perhaps she will be in a generous mood.”

“Perhaps,” Alice said. “Thank you.”

She turned away, following her footprints in the soft ash back toward the hill. After a moment's astonished silence, Flicker followed, hurrying to catch up.

“I got the impression from Pyros,” the fire-sprite hissed, “that you were in a hurry.”

“I am.” Alice had checked the watch before coming down the hill.
A bit more than five and a half days.
And I'm going to have to come
back
this way, even once I find the Palace.

“Then what exactly are you doing?”

“Thinking,” Alice said.

“You killed a
bluechill,
” Flicker said. “Don't tell me that ice-thing scares you.”

“Look,” Alice said. “I know what you think of me, but I'm not going to hurt anyone if I don't have to, all right?”

Flicker stared for a moment, then shook his head. “Then we're just going to wait for Helga?”

“I'm going to eat something and try to get some sleep,” Alice said. Even with time trickling away, she had to rest
sometime
. “I'm exhausted after all that climbing.”

“What if Helga won't agree to let us through?”

“Then we'll find another way,” Alice said. “Something better than smashing the front door down.”

They made their camp in the shadow of a boulder on the hilltop, with a good view of the fortress and the plain beyond. Flicker made a fire in a small metal bowl, providing a measure of relief from the chill wind. Alice ate a joyless meal of cold dried meat, and watched in fascination as Flicker scooped up bits of flame with his bare fingers and popped them into his mouth like candies.

When she was full, she stretched out with her pack for a pillow. The ash made the ground surprisingly soft, and the rigor of the day's travel had left her so tired, she fell
asleep almost immediately. For once, the memory of her father was content to leave her in peace.

She woke to Flicker shaking her by the shoulder. His hand was warm, even through her leathers, like a mug of freshly brewed tea.

“Reader,” he whispered.

Alice blinked and sat up, ash cascading away where the wind had drifted it against her. “What's wrong?”

“Someone's come out of the fortress.”

“Just one?”

Flicker nodded. Alice licked her lips, then unscrewed the top of her canteen and took a swallow of cold, clear water. The ash got everywhere—even the inside of her mouth seemed to be coated with the stuff, and everything she swallowed tasted burned. She put the canteen away and climbed carefully to the top of the boulder, where she could see down to the fortress and the plain.

The guard was still at the gate, but another ice woman had appeared. This one was smaller, and dressed in a long white robe instead of furs and armor. She carried no weapon, only a basket. After exchanging a few words with the guard on the gate, she started walking across the ash wastes toward their hill.

“If it comes to a fight, better up here than down there,”
Flicker said. “Who knows how many of them there are inside?”

“It won't come to a fight.” Alice judged the ice woman's path for a moment. “Let's stay behind the boulder. We don't want to startle her.”

“She doesn't
look
dangerous,” Alice said.

“Aside from being twice our size,” Flicker said.

That was hard to deny. This ice giant didn't have quite the intimidating size and bulk of Byrvorda, but she was still a good seven feet tall, taller than Mr. Black. She was thin, though, and something about her gangly frame made Alice think of a girl in her mid-teens. Her blue-white hair hung loose to just above her shoulders, and she wore a thin white robe that didn't seem adequate for the chill.

She climbed up to the hilltop, not far from the boulder where Alice and Flicker were hiding, set her basket down amid the ash, then looked over her shoulder at the fortress. Cupping her hands to her mouth, she said, in a ridiculously loud whisper, “Human! Human, are you there?”

Flicker caught Alice's eye. Alice shrugged, gestured for him to stay put, and got to her feet. The giant caught sight of her and took a half step back, eyes going very wide.

Alice raised her hands. “I'm not going to hurt you,” she said.

“I . . .” The giant composed herself a little and coughed. “I am sorry. I have never seen one of you before. Byrvorda said you were no larger than an infant, but I did not expect . . . I mean . . .”

Her face colored from white to off-blue in what Alice guessed was a blush.

“It's all right,” she said. “I'm Alice. What's your name?”

For some reason, this question made the giant wince. “Erdrodr,” she said. “Erdrodr of no name.”

“Why were you looking for me?” Alice said.

“Byrvorda was telling everyone at dinner that she'd seen a human and a fire-kin at the wall. A
Reader,
she said.” Erdrodr peered at Alice a little closer. “Are you a Reader? You don't look like the ones in the stories.”

“I am,” Alice said, deciding not to mention that she was only an apprentice. “Byrvorda said we can't go through the gate until Helga comes back. Has she returned?”

“Oh, no.” Erdrodr shook her head vehemently. “Even when she returns, my mother will never let you pass. She guards the curtain jealously.”

“Your mother? You're Helga's daughter?”

Erdrodr nodded, a mournful look on her face.

“Could you speak to her for us?” Alice said. “If I can help somehow—”

“Mother is less likely to listen to
me
than she is to listen to you. But I
can
help you, if you can help me. I can get you inside the castle. But . . .” She hesitated, then blurted out, “You must make me a promise.”

Alice blinked. “What kind of promise?”

“I must go with you. To the other side of the curtain. No matter what, you must allow me to come.”

There was a long pause.

“You'd better explain a little,” Alice said. “Do you mind if Flicker joins us? He has a spear, but I promise he's not a threat.”

“Of course.” Erdrodr scuffed a clear place in the ash with her foot. “We should sit. The guards may look this way, and I told them I was going to work on my sketches.”

“All right.” Alice waved, and Flicker got up from behind the boulder. Erdrodr had just settled herself on the ground, heedless of the smudges on her white robes. At the sight of him, the ice giant jumped back to her feet, so quickly that a startled Flicker pointed his spear.

“Oh!” Erdrodr said, staring.

“What?” Flicker said, raising his spear. “What's going on?”

Alice hastily stepped between the two of them. “Is something wrong?”

“No!” Erdrodr blinked and shook her head. “I have never seen a fire-kin before. I did not think . . . he is
beautiful
. The colors . . .”

Flicker's hair went briefly to a white-green, and Alice wondered if that signaled embarrassment.

“It's all right,” Alice said to him. “I think she was just surprised.”

Hesitantly, Flicker lowered his spear and came over. Erdrodr was rooting around in her basket, and after a few moments she produced a wooden slate and a stub-end of charcoal. Flicker flinched again as she straightened up.

“May I draw you? Please?” The ice giant stared at Flicker like an eager puppy. “It won't take long, I swear it.”

“I . . .” Flicker's hair gave another spurt of green. “I mean, I don't
mind
, but . . .”

The ice giant was no longer listening. She sat down again, raising a puff of ash, and began furiously scraping at the board. Alice shifted around behind her, to watch the work in progress, and gaped in astonishment. The stack of paper held to the board with twine was rough and uneven, and the charcoal crumbled and split in Erdrodr's thick fingers, but somehow she compensated
for all these difficulties. A picture of Flicker took shape, in delicate smudges of black and gray, capturing everything from the tilt of his nose to the way the light of his hair made the rocks at his feet cast shadows. In a few moments, Erdrodr lifted her hand, a frown fixed on her face.

“It's amazing,” Alice breathed.

“It's not right,” the ice giant muttered. “The colors
change
. I can't . . . bah.” She tore the page from the stack and tossed it aside. “I am not good enough. Not yet.” She let out a long breath and looked back at Flicker. “I am sorry. It is my passion, you see. The others think it foolish, but . . .” Her hands flexed, tightening into fists. “I cannot help it.”