Chapter 726: The Lake of Ever Ice

Chapter 726: The Lake of Ever Ice

The frostbitten wind whipped over the Lake of Ever Ice, lashing a small cluster of buffeting tents. The lake spread from horizon to horizon: still, frozen, seeming to have neither banks nor shorelines, simply stretching out endlessly. From east to west, and north to south, ones gaze found only mile after mile of icy, frigid landscape glittering beneath the harsh white sun.

In the distance, tiny frost-sheathed fairies beat blue crystal wings, fluttering through high winds, laughing and teasing each other in voices crackling like layers of shifting ice.

Their eyes flitted about, watching the odd encampment now settled on the lakes frozen surface, built beside a crossroads marked by four spires carved with symbols so old, even most fae did not remember them.

The encampment sheltered mortals who flew a strange symbol on their tent posts and banners, one these fae had never seen before: a white mortal hand emblazoned across every tent and every waving banner at the camps borders.

Yet, the tiny faeno matter how curious they might bewould not approach this place. Though the campfires were cheery and called to them, and the scent of roasting meat was enticing, one within the camp struck fear in them much colder than the ice below.

Beyond the tents and whipping banners, the Stalker relaxed, gnawing a piece of red meat and gazing out across the barren landscape. The meat was still warm, fresh and raw, its juices stained his beard as he licked his lips.

Ah, another beautiful, cold day, he said. Shame my hounds can't share in my cheer.

Behind him, the camps atmosphere was as grim as fires were warm, and the ice was cold. Holy men and women crouched by altars to their god, praying with hands clasped and cloaks thrashing in the wind; apologies were being whispered with desperate pleas for guidance.

The Stalker looked at the grey cloud covered sky, wondering if old Uldar would bless them with a sign. If the ancient deity was feeling generous, though, he didn't show it.

Behind the short fae, came the sound of footfalls trying to approach quietly, but any hope of silence was ruined by ice shards crunching underfoot.

How do you like the lovely layer of frost? The Stalker asked, stomping his feet. The Lake of Ever Ice never thaws, you know. The surface never cracks, andlet me tell youif you leave the road and wander off, you'll never find the lakes end. No land, nothing at all. He looked back at the sky. Yet the wind always blows bits of ice over its surface, thats the only thing that gives you any traction. Otherwise, we'd be slipping and sliding around like a piece of bacon, in a hot, fatty pan.

He laughed. "The ice blowing in the wind stings the face, doesn't it? But its only those pieces of ice that lets us walk in this placeand if I'm truthful, we should still be slipping and sliding around. Kind of makes you wonder if the lake wantsus to be walking on it, hmm? Blessings have a strange way of not looking like blessings sometimes, dont they?

The Stalker turned.

Gabrian stood behind him with Izas.

I take it you want to talk about that little battle? the fae asked.

We have failed, Izas said grimly. And this was our greatest chance to destroy our enemy. He will be better prepared next time.

Every attack now will be more difficult than the last, Gabrian echoed. The Fool has a way of slipping out of his bonds. Uldar marked him with a holy purpose, yet he has escaped his divine destiny. Now, we have declared he must pay with his life, acting on Uldars will, and yet he has escaped thrice now. Once at Uldars Rise, the second time at Rockmoot and now, here, in this northern Empire, so far away from home.

Aye, that last one was a bit strange, the Stalker said in easy tones. I thought your little trick with your holy dirt would stop him from teleporting around; I mean, that's why I went through all that trouble digging up your old home, isn't it?

Gabrian looked at Izas, the Third Apostle let out a long breath.

The interdiction was not perfect, he said grimly. The circle of soil and my sanctification gave the area a taste of our gods power, but this land is not Thameland, nor is it Uldars divine realm. His interdiction was naturally weaker in this place, I'm simply thankful it worked at all.

Out of the question, Gabrians tone was firm. We are here to do Uldars will, not start wars that could devastate his holy land. Already our divine purpose hangs on a precipice; any interference noweven delicate interferencecould see us fail. A war with an entire city of wizards is no delicate matter.

Perhaps we should not be so hasty, holy leader, Izas said suddenly. With the right mercenaries hired, we could gain a presence in Generasi without drawing their eyes to our land.

The First Apostle paused, his brow furrowing in thought. Perhapsbut only if the hour grows desperate. For now, we should focus on strategies that ensure the Fool dies when we next have him in our grip.

Well, if thats how things must be, I think Ill be taking part the next time we find him, the Stalker said. Now that I know he's a challenge, I can't resist getting in on the festivities myself.

Thank you for your assistance most wholeheartedly. May Uldars light shine upon your steps. Izas bowed his head.

Oh, bah! No need to be so dramatic, Im just having a little funand speaking of fun He tapped the side of his nose. I heard some interesting details when I was tucked away inside the giants cottage. Some very, veeeery interesting details.

Such as? Gabrian asked.

Seems our quarry was up to a bit of mischief. Appears he was stealing from someone there in the Empire.

A thief. Izas snorted. Of course the Fool is a thief.

Ah, but his moral and criminal proclivities aren't what interest me, my hounds. What interests me is what he stole, and who he stole it from. He rubbed his hands together, clenching the golden pipe between his teeth. And who he stole it with. Seems he didn't trust someone he went thieving with, or at least thats what he told the giants.

Oh? Gabrian looked at him with interest. You mean to say that he's created more enemies for himself.

Aye, and that his allies might not be soallied with him, shall we say? He licked his lips. In either case, his enemies, those who might hold a knife ready for his backthey might become our friends.

More of your hounds, then? Izas asked, a slight note of distaste in his voice. A very slight note.

You catch on quick, and that's another reason why I like you two so muchoop!

What's wrong? Gabrian asked.

Hes baaaaaaack, the Stalker grinned, fangs flashing in the cold light. Hes too far for us to get to him quicklybut he's back where we can get our hands on him. And now, the hunt begins again!

He laughed in pure delight. En garde, my quarry, en garde!

Alex and the two giants materialised in a frozen tundra in the northern reaches of the Empire. The wind was biting, the land desolate, and the sky grey, and grim.

Yet, despite the bleakness around him, he was home. This place would be home for a while, and only the Traveller knew how long that might be. Though, likely even she didnt know.

Alex exhaled, blowing twin puffs of steam in the frigid air. Alright, you zealous bastards. En garde!

He looked at Birger and Bjorgrund. Come on, friends, we've got a sanctum to find.