“It’s not equipment, lad, it’s location. The Silfen paths aren’t stable, you know. Once you start going deep into the forests, there’s no telling where you might wind up.”
“You mean like there’s no dependable way to get out of here?”
“There’s a million ways out by all accounts. And then again, there’s another million ways to stay. I’ve seem them sometimes, with my own eyes. Friends who can’t take the Ice Citadel anymore. They set off into the forest, looking for somewhere better. Years go by, and you think they must have made it, must be safe. Then an expedition will come across their bodies, all stiff and black.”
Orion pulled the sleeping bag tighter around him, fighting the way his chin was quivering.
Ozzie gave the woman a look, but she didn’t seem perturbed. “If there’s a way in, there’s a way out,” he said.
“Sure there is. What I’m telling you is, nobody here knows one. Anybody who does leave permanently doesn’t come back. At least, I’ve never seen one return.”
“How long have you been here?” Orion asked.
“I’m not sure. Some of the places I’ve visited might not have had the same kind of time as others. They were different. Don’t ask me how. You only realize once you’ve left. When you try and remember, every moment you spent there was like a dream. Then there’s the paths, time flows along them as well. You probably realized that the climates merge very gently, to do that they have to match seasons.”
“But how long?” Orion persisted.
The old woman smiled, showing copper-colored teeth. “Put it this way, I walked off Earth in 2009.”
Orion let out a gasp of surprise. “No way!”
“Oh, yes. I was on vacation in Tuscany. I still liked doing that, walking through the countryside, visiting the towns, sampling the food. There were enough areas of it that the developers never got around to ruining which made it worthwhile. One day I packed my backpack and hiked off into the forest. That was it. I’ve been out here ever since. I never really wanted to go back. I mean… what’s the point?”
“Interesting,” Ozzie said. It was fascinating to know the Silfen paths had led to Earth in those days, but somehow not surprising. “That would make you about four hundred years old. They didn’t have rejuvenation on Earth back then, not even in Europe.”
“I’ve never been rejuvenated. I told you, time runs differently along the paths.”
“But you just said you don’t walk the paths anymore.”
“I’m here, though, and I encounter the Silfen most years.” She shrugged. “This isn’t something you rationalize and order, Ozzie. Everything that is here simply happens. Don’t try to assign reason to what you experience.”
“Right.”
“Please?” Orion said. “Do you know if my mom and dad are here?”
“What are their names?”
“Maurice and Catanya.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Orion, there’s nobody here with those names. And I can’t recall a couple passing through, either.”
The boy hung his head.
“Not every path from Silvergalde leads here, you know,” she said. “They could be anywhere. Some nice tropical island, perhaps.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
She looked at Ozzie, who gave her a don’t-ask-me shrug.
The Ice Citadel gradually grew larger in front of them. It was difficult for Ozzie to see clearly through the grubby, ice-crusted crystal window, but the basic pyramid shape soon became apparent. From base to tip it was about seventy yards high. Every surface had been covered in crystal, great lengths of the quartz trees arranged into hexagonal arrays. They were packed together in a perfect honeycomb, giving no clue as to what material was underneath. A smooth cylindrical pillar of crystal rose from the center of each hexagon, topped by a large multifaceted stone that swelled out almost organically. Ozzie frowned at the assembly, trying to understand its purpose. The long segments that made up the hexagons were angled in series against each other, forming tiers. Little prismatic sparkles of light danced off the sheer surfaces. They were like… “Mirrors,” he muttered to himself. Very crude concave mirrors focusing sunlight on the central stalk. Or maybe not so crude, he decided; it would take a real artisan to get the angles just right.
The top of the pyramid was a small rounded pinnacle. As he watched, the beam of green light shone out of it, sweeping around.
“You can see it right over the other side of the crater,” Sara said. “There’s been many a night it’s guided me home.”
“It works at night?” Ozzie said. “I assumed the mirror array gathered sunlight for it.”
“Worked that out, huh? Shouldn’t surprise me, a techie like you. The mirrors mostly scoop up light for the rooms inside. But, yeah, the top row is exclusively for the lighthouse system. They pour sunlight into some kind of light battery. Please don’t ask me how it works, it looks like a big ball of stone to me. There’s always some idiot science type wanting to take it apart. We don’t let them, of course.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll spare you that.”
“Good. We have been known to run some people out of town. And as far as we know, there isn’t another town on the whole damn planet.”
The sled came slowly to a halt at the base of the pyramid. Ozzie and Orion pulled their gloves on again, covered their faces, and stepped out carrying their packs. Another couple of the Korrok-hi warbled mournfully to Bill as they started to unharness the big ybnan that had pulled the sled. Some humans (or human-shaped) had come over, dressed in the same bulbous fur coats as Sara wore. There were other aliens as well, a small gnomish creature with five limbs and two things like snakes with legs, all wearing coats of icewhale fur. Ozzie stopped to study them; he’d never seen their kind before. He began to wonder just how far into the galaxy the Silfen paths ran.
“This way,” Sara beckoned. “Iusha will stable your lontrus for you.” There were a number of archways of various sizes along the base of the pyramid, from trapdoor height up to an opening wide enough to take two sleds at once. There was a lot of activity around them, with animals (again types he’d never seen) and aliens coming in and out. Several sleds resembling racing toboggans were being prepared.
She led them through one of the archways into an antechamber with plain black marble walls. At the far end was a big revolving door made from bone, with thin crystal windowpanes. “It’s like a heat-lock,” she said as she pushed one of the panels and set the doors moving.
Beyond that was a wide corridor walled with the same marble. Long panels of quartz were set into the ceiling, with pink sunlight pouring out of them. Ozzie stood underneath one and squinted into the glare, but there was nothing to see.
“They light the whole place,” she said. “It’s like a root network of big crystal ducts leading down from the mirrors on the pyramid. Same principle as our fiber-optic cable, but big, much bigger, the ducts are a meter wide.”
The corridor angled down slightly, then opened out into broad stairs that curved around out of sight. They started their descent. The curve was actually a wide spiral. Ozzie lost track of how many times they went around, and how deep they were. It was a long way down. Sara took her face mask off, then unbuttoned the front of her coat. She was wearing woolen trousers and a thick blue sweater underneath. Ozzie realized he was getting warmer, and unzipped his own coat.
“What heats this place?”
“Hot springs,” she told them. “It was built right above them. I wasn’t kidding about that bath.”
The stairs ended at an archway. Sara watched as they walked out onto the main floor of the Ice Citadel. Ozzie took a few steps in, and came to a halt. He’d entered an alien cathedral, a vaulting dome at least eighty yards high. Pillars curved up the wall like some arcane rib cage, supporting seven balcony rings. It had to be a religious monument. The alcove walls between the pillars were carved marble. Thousands of different creatures stared out at Ozzie, every third was a Silfen. Somehow, the artist had given each one a majesty surpassing the divine quality suggested for the human prophets. They’d all been captured at the same moment of revelation and veneration, seeing the wonder dwelling beyond the physical universe. The bas-relief landscapes around them ranged from arboreal scenes to stark landscapes with exotic moons in the sky, cities of grandiose buildings and even technological surroundings. Right at the apex, a mandala of crystal strips shone brighter than the sunlight outside. “Jesus wept,” he exclaimed. As proof that the Silfen did have a tangible culture it was a startling introduction.
In the center of the floor was a large pool, fed by a raised fountain, whose waters steamed gently as it splashed and gurgled. There was no altar or rows of seating, which Ozzie was half expecting. Long tables made of bone and leather had been set up on granite paving that was worn and badly cracked. On the other side, a large rectangular stone hearth had been built, with neat brick-walled ovens on top. Flames were visible flickering through grids set in the base. Judging by the background smell in the room, and the soot clogging the oven brickwork, it was some kind of fat-based oil fuel. Several humans and aliens fussed around on tables next to the hearth, preparing a meal.
The chamber obviously served as a main meeting place for the Ice Citadel residents. Even in the daytime it was busy. The number of species astounded Ozzie; he could make out at least twelve different types. Creatures with three legs, four legs, six legs, some that squirmed or wriggled across the floor, one that hopped, and something that was either a young Raiel or a close cousin. Big and small, they had skins in many shades, scales, fur, spines, and oil-rainbow membranes; clothes on those that bothered ranged from simple togas to practical utility harnesses.
Like the statues, every creature was now focused on Ozzie and Orion. They were stared at, smelled, echo-sounded, heat-scanned…
Orion edged behind Ozzie, who returned the attention levelly. “Where are they all from?” Ozzie asked. “Do we know their star systems?”
“It doesn’t matter where they come from,” Sara said dismissively. “Only that they are here now. Why do you want to classify them? That’s the first step toward segregation.”
“Nobody’s classifying,” Ozzie snapped back. “Man, this has got to be the most important gathering of cultures we know of. There are more species represented here than even the High Angel hosts. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It means we have a broad fund of abilities to help us survive.”
“I’ve got to find out where they come from, if they know anything more about the Silfen.”