Ice Burns Read online

  “You may,” the old woman said, her tone heavy with cheek.

  Chandra could not hold back the derisive snort, and the old woman chuckled.

  “You may call me Matta.”

  “I'm not sure you'll find me to be a very good student,” Chandra whispered. “I have no skills to start from and have not done well by being taught in the past. You'll have your work cut out for you.”

  The old woman laughed. “Granted, but that will change. You need to understand what you can achieve in order to fully embrace what your future holds,” the woman told her as she sidestepped Chandra and put a pot of water on to boil. She crossed the room quickly and hardly seemed to use the walking stick as she went about her business.

  “What will you get out of this? My servitude?” Chandra heard Frostwhite shuffle and call to her from somewhere above her in the shadowed rafters of the tiny house.

  “I don’t care! I didn’t run away to turn into someone’s servant!” she called to the bird. “I want to know what she wants from me!”

  Matta waved her hand and motioned to the chair Chandra had sat in the previous evening.

  “Okay.” the woman asked softly and handed her a cup of tea. Chandra stared at her for a moment before taking the tea. “You want to be free as you say, but to do what, where, and how?"

  Chandra sat down and felt as though she folded in upon herself at her own fears being tossed back at her. As the warmth of the cup soaked into her skin, Matta’s words struck true inside her. Chandra had no idea where she needed to go. She was running without a destination. She lowered the cup and her hands to her lap and dropped her head.

  "You found me for a reason. The empty cottage will be visible to passersby, but they will have no desire to enter nor would they find me unless I choose to reveal myself to someone. You were brought to me, and here you will stay,” the old woman concluded before standing to walk outside the cottage. Chandra thought she heard the woman mutter, for now as she left and she was left to sip tea and organize her thoughts.

  18

  A few days later, Chandra felt like a pack animal and didn’t doubt she would look the part were someone to happen by. Stacks of bundled branches and dry wood were strapped in a trembling tower to her back. Her feet had gone from tender to numb and now felt like swollen slabs of useless flesh. Her arms were burdened with a basket of blackberries, several tied handfuls of ivy and a large bundle of a bright, crimson flower. She had not had a problem with any of the items less the flower.

  Matta had given her one dry flower and instructed Chandra to search the forest and bring back as much of it as she could find. She was unfamiliar with the bloom and had smelled the dried blossom. The smell was unlike that of any flower she had ever known. It was a dark, mossy smell like leaf decay or rotten food scraps. The oily putrescence of the bloom was cloying and clung to her nostrils as though she had rubbed the petals inside her nose. It was heady and managed to make the forest look cloudy despite the bright day. She had managed to find about six blooms that seemed unwilling to part with the brush. In the struggle, Chandra ripped several holes in her shirt and pants from brambles that lined the stems.

  Chandra hoped it was the right plant because she couldn't imagine carrying another that smelled as bad. She pushed herself to move faster. She couldn't wait to reach the cottage so she could distance herself from the flowers as quickly as possible. She considered finding another flower to block her nose from the smell but knew she didn't want to pull that smell into her mouth, either. Once in the cottage, she planned to pull wood ash from the hearth to rub on her skin in the hopes that it would scrape off pollen or oils from the plant and then she could hobble into the creek. She considered burning her clothes but thought it might make the stink more prevalent.

  Matta stood at the doorway of the cottage as Chandra approached. She had thought that the old woman's home would return to its decrepit and ruinous appearance, but it remained livable and too visible as far as she was concerned. What would happen if Matta was wrong and someone else found this place and Chandra? She shuddered.

  “I thought that stink might be you coming back.” Matta laughed. "At least we know you found the right flower."

  Chandra arched her eyebrow but said nothing and dropped her burden at Matta’s feet.

  “Not here. Stack the wood near the door, wash the berries with some of the well water, refill the pitchers from the well and put the plants on the counter near the door.”

  Chandra's response was a heavy sigh before she moved to comply. In the days she had been there, she had done nothing but work. She had done clumsy repairs to the inside as well as outside of the cottage, gathered plants and food as well as odd supplies. Matta had made her spend a day seeking out certain feathers from the birds in the forest. At first, Chandra had thought it would be a relatively easy day and then discovered that only certain feathers from a certain bird would do.

  Frostwhite wouldn't help. He was mysteriously gone from morning until evening that day. She felt like he was annoyed with her because she had little patience for the grouchy old woman who gave them shelter.

  “Be sure you don’t crush the blossoms of those flowers or you will never get the smell out of your clothing,” Matta called over her shoulder as she walked off into some trees near the cottage.

  Chandra snorted as she looked down at the crimson stains on her tunic. She shook her head and moved to complete the tasks. When the forest dimmed with the approach of twilight and the crickets were singing their moon call, Chandra exited the little hut. She was covered in ash and soot she had taken from the fireplace, cleaning it in the process. The water would be a good place to wash everything away; clothing, smell, and aches. She took a threadbare cloth and a nub of soap as she exited the cottage. Matta had gone to work in her "garden" that looked more like weeds, a little ways behind the house. Chandra thought she might have time to wash up before Matta came back.

  The icy water was a shock as it dragged across her body like a million blunt pins. She shivered the moment she set her foot in the water and hastened to rub at her body with the scrap of cloth and the bar of soap. Chandra thought for a moment of the giant tub that had been in Master Dreys’ estate and how she had been able to take a bathes with fine soaps and soft linens to wrap in after. The servants hadn’t always brought her very warm water, but it had never been as icy as the creek.

  “The water runs down from mountains in the frozen North,” Matta’s old voice croaked. Chandra jerked her head up to look at the old woman who was sitting on a large, flat bolder at the bank. From her posture and expression, Matta looked like she had been there a long time, though Chandra had walked past that very boulder and placed her clothing behind it.

  “This is as warm as it gets,” Matta said as she lifted a mug of something to her lips and took a deep draft.

  Chandra said nothing but continued to rub at her skin with the soap and cloth. She scrubbed hard, not just to get the stink flower off, but to try to keep her blood circulating. She looked up at Matta, drinking her hot tea, and made a rude face.

  “Maturity is something you need to learn, Chandra. Pouting and being arrogant may have been your life before, but look how much help it got you,” Matta said after an extended silence.

  Chandra walked from the creek. She fought the urge to snatch up her clothes to cover herself or crouch behind whatever cover her hands could give. She had to remind herself that Matta could not see her, but it didn't make the desire to hide go away.

  Her limbs were white and pink from a combination of frozen water and rough scrubbing. The parts of Chandra that had been wholly submerged had a bluish tinge like fine white marble. She had scrubbed at her hands but still the line of red that filled the quick of all her nails remained, like a giant flag of guilt to mark for all to see. It had been at least a week and her hands still showed her former Master's blood on her hands. She shook her head and moved past the woman and gathered up her clothing. After wrapping herself in the thin blanket,
she carried the garments to the water and submerged them.

  “You will need new clothing." Matta's milky gaze was on the sky where the stars had just begun to show their light. Chandra wondered if the old woman even remembered she was there with the way she drank from her mug and stared at the blue-black heavens.

  “I cannot go into a village,” Chandra rung her clothing and continued to scrub. “Not yet.”

  “Who said anything about going to a village? You will sew your own, starting with the holes you made from today’s exploits. If luck is with you, the forest may grant you some skins from its lost children to leatherwork. I will teach you, but it will be hard work.”

  Chandra cringed at the thought of sewing clothes or being turned into a tanner, but she did not say so. Clothing was a necessity and hers had never been intended for rough use. Chandra she thought about it for a moment before saying, “Thank you, Matta.”

  “After you finish taking the stink out of your garments, please come to the cottage.”

  Before Chandra had more than a chance to nod and raise her head, Matta was gone and Frostwhite sat in her place on the stone. The great hawk’s steel gaze was locked on her. Not a feather rustled nor did the bird seem to breathe in its statuesque pose. Chandra allowed her friend to look down his beak at her for several heartbeats before she turned her attention back to rubbing at her tunic.

  “I’m sorry you’re disappointed in me,” she began. “My only excuse for my behavior is that my life has been turned inside out. I also don’t find it easy to be in another’s company after having been alone so long.”

  She lifted spring eyes to meet winter and did not allow herself to look away from Frostwhite.

  “I don’t ask for your pity, just your patience,” she said softly.

  Frostwhite blinked once before hopping into the air for a moment and then landing closer beside her on the shore of the creek. He grabbed some shallow-water fish and snacked. Chandra said nothing, but watched his antics as one fish escaped his grasp and he pounced on it in a very un-hawklike manner.

  When Chandra returned to the tiny house, Matta was waiting with a slightly heavier blanket and a robe-like garment that had several moth holes in it. It seemed clean and was much warmer than her cold flesh. She took them gratefully.

  “I placed some pegs near the hearth so you could hang your clothes to dry. There is soup in the pot, hearth bread, and honey if you would like some.”

  Chandra did not know how to react to all the kind gestures. She stood at the closed door and donned the rough gown. She felt embarrassed for her behavior to the woman and her lack of patience toward what felt like punishment but was less than what she deserved. Chandra stood unmoving for several heartbeats before speaking.

  “Thank you,” Chandra spoke the words haltingly. It took more effort to speak than she would have expected. She took advantage of each offering.

  Frostwhite flew to land beside the chair. The great hawk tended to hunt his dinner as they ate theirs; Matta only made foods that didn't come from animals. While she was sitting near the hearth eating bread and honey, she felt the smooth heat of a cup against the side of her hand before she saw Matta. For a blind woman, she moved with stealth.

  “It's tea,” Matta said.

  Chandra placed the small plate near her on the floor and took the cup. Tea would be welcome after the frozen water bath. As she raised it to her lips, Matta placed her hand over the mouth of the cup to stop her.

  “Before you drink, I need to tell you something,” Matta began. “That noxious flower I had you gather today has been ground and placed in the cup you are about to drink from.”

  Chandra pushed mug and hand away and gave the woman a sharp look.

  "Settle down, it isn't poison, but it may bring your visions.”

  “Visions of what?” Chandra looked in the swirling depths of the steaming mug but didn't have enough direct light to see anything.

  “That depends on the person,” Matta told her. “My hope is that it will teach you some portion of your path so I can understand how to best instruct you. The flower essence will call to the magic inside you and help it speak to you, in a way."

  "So, I'm going to have a conversation in my head with magic? Don't they send people away who hear things in their heads?" Chandra tried to tilt the cup enough to let the fire show her the contents. Matta cuffed her on the back of the head, but it was a gentle smack that made her yelp and laugh.

  "I might wish to go there after I spend too much time with you," the old woman shook her head and settled in her chair. "What I need you to be aware of is that some of what you see will be confusing or frightening. It is a vision though, something created by your mind to decipher what the magic is trying to say. When it's over, we'll discuss it and figure it out together.”

  Chandra nodded. The tea smelled nothing like the flowers had; the scent was delicate and slightly sweet as though it were closer to a honeysuckle or apple blossom. She breathed it in and thought about "talking" to her magic. She wished she could somehow ask questions or direct the conversation to help her understand anything that had happened.

  “This is when I have to ask for your trust because the tea will put you out for a good while as the power forms inside you to direct you. You have my word that I'll watch over you, as will your unfettered friend.”

  Chandra inhaled the sweet scent and made eye contact with Frostwhite who seemed unconcerned. Even if she wasn't sure if she could trust Matta, she had no such concerns about her companion. Chandra crawled down to the blankets and thin mattress beside the hearth that served as her bed. She looked at Matta and reached out to touch one gnarled hand with her newly calloused and blistered one.

  “Bottoms up then,” she said softly.

  Matta smiled and Chandra raised her cup. The tea had cooled enough not to scald but was still hot enough to send a warm flood down her throat and pool in her stomach. The liquid felt comfortable in her belly. It was warm and soothing like a beam of sunlight had formed inside her. Chandra closed her eyes and felt a moment of pure comfort as she lay down. She felt the air come and go from her body at a languid pace. When she drew in air, it swelled within before gliding back out like a fleeting memory. She found herself warm and the aches in her body melted into the floor and blankets beneath her. Her last thought was that the hearth itself seemed to breathe and its hot breath tickled across her face.

  Chandra knew she was falling behind. She couldn't seem to make her legs move fast enough to catch up, but she had to keep trying. If she stayed, it would all be over; the deaths would have been for nothing and she would be nothing.

  The light was just ahead of her now as she caught her second wind and pushed across the rain-slicked ground with greater speed. The light danced as though it were waving her on; calling to her.

  Then, there was a second light that began to bob and dance with the first and she was getting closer. Both of her hands itched and Chandra looked down to see that one had turned into a block of ice and the other was twisted and burning. Neither one hurt and though some part of her was afraid, more of her just accepted it as fact and she continued to run.

  The two lights grew bigger still. They must be waiting for her to catch up and she would very soon. Chandra reached out with her right hand and the fire that was there licked up her arm and turned the skin black but did not hurt. She knew it should hurt, but it felt good instead.

  The lights glowed and she knew they weren't lanterns. The light shifted from a golden glow to a white-blue like the center of a flame and she knew they were eyes and they were waiting for her.

  Chandra lifted her frozen hand and saw lines of blue climb her arm but it did hurt and her blackened limb began to blister as the azure in her veins bled into it. She screamed and pushed both arms out, palms open, as though to stop the eyes or stop herself; she wasn't sure which. The eyes started to come into view and she knew them. She knew eyes like that.

  Chandra saw a wall of pale blue. The eyes were gone, b
ut the wall of blue reflected the same icy-hot shade. It was like looking through a wall of water with rainbows flickering across the surface and light sparkling as though alive.

  Because it was ice. She remembered seeing it and knew that she had been here before. The wall was not a waterfall, but solid ice. And on the other side of that ice was something that waited for her.

  As before, the shadow beckoned to her. Chandra could not stop her dream self as it reached out to run her hand above the surface, and the shadow parodied her movement. She stopped short of touching the surface; the uncertainty was fear this time. The shadow pressed against the surface and scrabbled on the surface. This time, Chandra heard a scraping sound against the ice. She didn't want to touch it.

  The dark form moved and slammed a second hand of shadow on the ice wall and a crack spread from the base. There was a wrenching sound that boomed and scraped at her eardrums like a terrified scream. Or an angry one.

  As quickly as it began, it stopped. Chandra found herself again in a dark corridor behind a young woman. She recognized the back of the woman's head and felt the familiarity of her dream self. They were looking for something.

  The cave was like walking in a starless sky. Chandra let her hand trail along the wall to feel the cold rock walls. She somehow felt that the walls, too were black and shiny like black glass.

  The woman said something, and dream-Chandra replied. It felt different though and she seemed to sense that she was trying to tell the other woman something very important.

  The weight of the cave pressed down on her painfully and she felt her breath in her chest as though it had turned into massive bubbles that took up all of the room inside her. Chandra kept trying to pull in air, but there was simply no room for it. She was being squeezed to death by the air in her body.

  She felt herself try again to tell the woman who froze in front of her. The woman became a statue locked in place just as the light flared up to blind Chandra. Painful light stabbed at her eyes and was agony on her skin. When she was blinded, she remembered what came next and began to whimper because she didn't want to see it.