Wendel wondered if she would leave his body where it fell. Not really worth it, dragging my corpse along. In the distance, the mountains and the sky ran together into a bitter white sheet. Somewhere behind the clouds, an indifferent star lit everything with a blinding light, and up ahead he could barely make out Dr. Mendes and the pack dogs pulling the sledge. There was relief in no longer feeling the cold. With a faltering step, Wendel fell. The borrowed snowshoes caught, and his knees and hands disappeared into the hateful white powder. It was silent and dark until he heard her shuffling steps and then her musical accent.

“I can’t help you, Wendel.”

“I know. No one can help me.”

“I think you can help yourself.”

“I don’t know how!”

“Just sort of flop about, try and pack the snow around you down until it’s firm and you can right yourself.”

“What’s the point?”

“Well, if you stay where you are, you’ll die.”

“So?”

“I’ll have to fill out paperwork.”

Wendel proceeded to flail about, pressing the snow down. Once it was firm enough he was able to gain purchase on it. The dogs pulling the sled with their supplies looked at him, their lolling tongues and open mouths mocked him as he pulled himself out of the hole. Dr. Mendes offered him a hand, and he righted himself, shaking the snow off. He was buried beneath so many layers that none of the snow had made it to his skin, but still he felt wet. Warm almost.

From the sled, she retrieved two long walking sticks and pressed them into his hands. “If you slide, or fall again, these will help. The ground is buried, there’s no way they’ll reach the bottom so don’t try try lean on them, but if you sink again, try and press down. If you can reach the ground with the sticks, you should be able to keep yourself sinking in too deep. We’re going uphill, kick little steps into the snow as we go, like this.” She demonstrated, lifting her foot, placing the toe into the snow and forming a small ridge. Packed down, it made a stair for her, and she proceeded again with the other foot.

Wendel tried to mimic her motions, and thought he was keeping up the grueling pace she set, but before long she was ahead of him again. Dr. Mendes glistened in the sunlight. The snow surrounded them for miles, and even when Wendel closed his eyes, he could still see the snow reflecting the sun.

Wendel no longer felt the cold, the weight of his pack on his back grew heavy every time he stopped to take another layer off. She had not changed her clothes, all she wore was a khaki jacket embossed with the symbol for the science department of the University over a short-sleeved khaki shirt and her khaki overalls. No hat on her shaved head, and neither a sign of chill or perspiration on her exotic face.

“Are you coming?” She called back in a tone he knew she did not mean to be mocking. He added the derision in his own mind.

“I… I just need…” Wendel was panting, there was no air up here, he felt choked and sick. The world was swimming around him and he felt like he was keeling although he knew he was standing firm. She jogged lightly back the twenty or so paces to where Wendel was.

“Drink this.” She produced a waterskin, from his pack, without him so much as seeing her hands move. Everything was a blur now, he wanted to sit down, in the cold hard packed snow. Gratefully he drank the water in deep gulps.

“Sip it or you’re going to-” She stopped as he doubled over and vomited the water he had just swallowed. She stood there, staring at the sky with her beautiful black eyes, waiting for him to gather his wits and come back to himself. When Wendel had finally stopped heaving, collected himself, and tried sipping at the waterskin again she spoke.

“Let me see your hands.” Her accent was so interesting, he’d heard her lecture twice back at the University, and both times he’d missed almost everything she said caught up in the strange lilting of her voice. Not understanding he produced his gloved hands for her to examine. Gently she removed his gloves and tucked them into his belt, and in spite of how much his whole body ached, and how terrified he was that he was going to die here, he felt a sharp thrill when her hands grazed his waist tucking the gloves between his belt and his pants.

Wendel was so caught up in her touching him that he was completely unaware of the fact that he could not feel her touching his hands at all. She squeezed them a little harder, and looked at his face gravely. Sharp realization dawned on him. He could not feel his hands at all. Fear gripped him tightly. He tried to move his fingers, and they only twitched. Terrified he brought his hands up to his face and they burnt worse than any fire he’d ever accidentally touched brewing in the labs at the University. Failing to stifle a scream, he was cut off when Dr. Mendés’ hand clapped over his mouth.

“You do realize we’re here investigating an avalanche,” she saids softly, meaningfully, “we’re going to have to stop and build fire so you can gradually warm yourself. If I move my hand, are you going to scream?”

Wendel shook his head back and forth, and as she removed her hand, he uttered in a hoarse whisper, “Can’t we just use magic?”

“Oh, you idiot boy. That would just burn you, or worse. No, I never use magic. Rarely is it is actually necessary. Your body can take care of itself, if you let it. Homeostasis, does that mean anything to you? Nothing is better at knowing what your body needs better than itself. I’ve seen mages, even wizards try to keep themselves alive with magic. Many of them can’t even walk now, or walk now in the shape of something that would terrify you.” She was working quickly as she spoke, and Wendel stood dumbstruck watching her.

“Stomp your feet firmly and make a flattened hole in the snow. Firmly and without making a lot of noise, you need to get your heart pumping anyway.” Almost mechanically Wendel followed her instructions.

Dr. Mendés took supplies off of one of the pack dogs they had borrowed from the village. She removed a medium sized cast iron skillet, two tight bundles of what looked like hay rolled in something sticky, maybe fat. From the pouches on her jacket, she removed a knife and a long metal rod. She shooed Wendel out of the way and laid the skillet in the hole, and put the hay in the skillet. She struck the knife to the metal rod only once and a shower of sparks rained down on the hay. It caught, slowly, and then began to burn with an orange flame, flickering in the light breeze.

“Right, so I’m going to build this fire up, and while I do so, I need you to swing your arms like this,” she demonstrated swinging both her arms around in wide circles, “and I need you to do that between thirty and fifty times. I know it seems silly, but remember who I am.”

Wendel nodded mechanically again, and began to pinwheel his arms. She removed a few small pieces of wood from the pack on one of the dogs, and built up the fire. Wendel was counting to himself. When he reached fifty, he looked at her expectantly.

“I know that right now you see this fire and you want to crouch close to it, but you can’t just yet. You need to spin each leg fifty times like this,” she demonstrated, “when that is done you can huddle to the fire.

Once again, he followed her orders, and when he was finally done with both legs, he felt better. Less dizzy and more present. He felt less like he was going to die. Dr. Mendés removed a kettle from one of the pack dogs, and poured water into it from Wendel’s water skin. She held it above the small fire by the wooden handle, and it began to warm. Steam rose from the kettle more quickly than Wendel would have expected, and then she retrieved a wooden cup from one of the dogs and filled it.

“Sip it,” he did so, slowly, “so, Wendel, tell me why did you request to accompany me on this trip? Or did the University decide that I needed a bit more of a challenge?”

“I was hoping that if I performed well you would consider me for an apprentice.” He blurted between sips.

“Are you aware of what happened to my last three apprentices?” She spoke wistfully as if to herself.

“Yes, Dr. Mendés.”

“And are you aware that after the last one, I requested, on paper, that the University stop assigning me apprentices?”

“Yes, Dr. Mendés.”

“Then I will ask you again, why are you here?”

“Because I love… the work that you do. I just wanted to be a part of it.”

“Really? And could you describe the work that I do, and what aspect of it you find so fascinating.”

Wendel could feel her eyes scrutinizing him. He thought of his pale skin blotched with the scars from years of adolescent acne. His ridiculous red hair, his slender frame that never filled in to match even his insubstantial height. It was amazing how quickly his mind brought to the surface everything he hated about himself staring into her black on black eyes, her beautiful and strange skin, smooth and perfect, black as obsidian. He was a fool, he didn’t belong here, and yet here he was, and she was looking at him expectantly, demanding an explanation as to why she was being forced to save his life.

“You’re a hero.” His voice was hollow but it was all his mind could force from his lips.

“Heroine, and no, I am not, because heros and heroines are dead. And foolish.”

“Everyone says you’re a heroine, one of the living legends at the University, and-”

She cut him off with two fingers to his lips, and then brought one vertical finger to her mouth, her eyes darted side to side. He couldn’t see anything at all but snow. Obviously she could. All of a sudden they were surrounded, Wendel couldn’t even count them. They were slender and incredibly tall, furry creatures. They looked somewhat ragged, and almost human except they were easily eight feet tall.

Dr. Mendés stood up slow, and signalled with her hand flat for Wendel to remain seated, and do nothing. At least, that’s what he decided she was signalling because that was what he intended to do. She stared at each of the creatures in turn, catching their eyes, and then nodding to each. Finally, the largest of the creatures took a step forward and uttered something in a guttural language. Wendel realized it had to be a language when Dr. Mendés replied in the same guttural tones.

There was some sort of conversational exchange, and finally Dr. Mendés went to the pack dogs and retrieved some of their pemmican, some of their water, and a thin bladed filet knife. She presented these things in a supplicating gesture to the leader of the creatures and then placed them on the hard packed snow at the creature’s feet. Two of the other creatures retrieved the offering, and then the leader spoke again in that same strange language. Dr. Mendés responded and bowed at the waist. The creature returned the gesture and as quickly as they had appeared the creatures were all gone.

“Right, where were we? Heros?” She spoke as if nothing had happened.

“I- what? What were those things? I-” He stammering like a fool and he knew it.

“The snowmen? They live here, it’s as simple as that.”

“What just happened?”

“I paid for the right to cross their land.” She shrugged.

“They were monsters!”

“No, they were just the locals, and had I responded differently, they would have killed us, this is their land after all. How would you have handled that situation?”

“I don’t know, I think I probably would have been killed, by the locals.”

She laughed and it was a beautiful sound, like some angelic instrument. Her eyes lit up with the laugh and Wendel softly chuckled as well.

“Well at least you’re smart enough to realize that. How do you define me as a heroine?”

“You caught the Perim mages!” He blurted it out all at once, and then clamped his mouth shut, suddenly aware of the avalanche risk.

“Simple detective work, they were sloppy.”

“You saved Fellim Narsye from the-”

“Yes, from the minotaurs, but honestly he slighted them and I just had to get him to make amends for the insult to their honor. The minotaurs have a fascinating culture.”

“Everyone at the University talks about you as if you are a legend, your deeds are sung by bards far and wide. You’re The Good Kind's Sword and in the war-” She cut him off again in mid-sentence.

“You’re looking warmer, let me feel your hands again.” She spoke and he was extending his arms before she’d even finished. She clasped both of his hands and he could feel hers this time. His heart was already pounding from fear and excitement and when he felt her hands, calloused and not at all like he was expecting, he could hear his pulse in his ears.

“Yes, I think that’s better. Put your gloves back on, and this time, try to match my pace. Remember, if you’re feeling cold you’re not moving fast enough. Alternate between swinging your arms loosely to keep the blood flowing and tucking them in your armpits.” She gave the instructions while she was breaking down the fire she had made, and by the time she finished explaining what to do, there was almost no sign of the small fire. She’d even kicked snow in the flat hole and it was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding snow.

Wendel was awestruck, he was doing his very best to keep pace. She was amazing. He wanted desperately to ask her how they were going to meet the request of the villagers and find out if the avalanches were caused by magic. There was very little about thaumatalogical forensics that he could remember right now. At this moment he felt like he was just following her to learn how to survive in this inhospitable environment so different from anywhere he’d ever been before.

“Right, not much farther to go now.” She stopped and surveyed the area and Wendel wasn’t sure how she could know that, it all looked the same to him. It looked like snow, on the slope of this awful rocky mountain they were destined to die on.

Once again they started walking at the brisk pace she set, and time passed. It could have been minutes or hours, Wendel couldn’t tell. He was just trying to focus on swinging his arms and making sure he could still feel his fingers and toes. The mountains rose and fell in front of them. Wendel couldn’t decide if going up was worse than going down. The sun continued to move in the sky, and by the time they stopped to rest again he realized with a small shock it was almost down.

Except that this time they weren’t stopping to rest. She was doing something in the snow on the slope that looked the same as the rest of the land. His hands and feet were at least warm enough to feel, but he realized that it was getting colder. He glanced over to her, and tried to ascertain what she was doing, but it was futile.

All of a sudden he heard a whining, friction sound of rock sliding on rock, and a hole opened up in the slope. To Wendel’s surprise, there was light coming from inside the hole. Dr. Mendes looked at him and said, “Well, come on. If you want to see what I do, you should see this. Do not speak. Do not stare. Be respectful. Kneel when I kneel, and please don’t do anything stupid, or you will die.” She spoke in a very matter-of-fact way that terrified him much more than if she had said it in any sort of an intimidating way. While she was giving him this warning, she had been unhitching the two dogs from their sled.

Where she had opened the slope, all of the snow that was resting on the door fell inside. Dr. Mendés barreled through the waist deep snow, pulling the sled of supplies behind her as she did. The two dogs bounded happily after her through the now loose snow. There was a strange blue light filtering through the snow and soon they were gone, past the entrance into this pile of snow. Wendel had no choice but to follow or be left on this slope where the sun was setting. He did his best to follow her through the snow, trying to walk in the wake she and the dogs had carved.

Warmth began to fill him, despite being waist deep in the snow he had been walking on top of only a moment ago. At first he could hear nothing, and see nothing except for the strange blue light through the snow, and then finally he broke through into a tunnel. The first thing that caught his attention was the strange dripping sounds. Now he could also hear very faintly the wind back outside, whistling against the opening. This sound was abruptly cut off and replaced by the whining, grinding friction sound of rock on rock.

Wendel wanted desperately to call out to the doctor, but he remembered her warning about remaining silent. He walked on, into the tunnel, lit with strange light, and not seeing the icy stalagmite. He tripped when he walked groin first into it. He fell, over the stalagmite, crushing his groin in the process. Fortunately the pain was so extreme that he couldn’t even scream. A harsh grunt escaped his lips, and he lay on the stone and ice floor, clutching at his injury and feeling nothing but pain and shame.

He would have perhaps laid there until he died. Warm, wet tongues lapped at his cheeks, adding insult to injury, then he felt strong hands on his shoulders, lift him back up to his feet. She pressed a finger to his lips. Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see much more clearly in the dim light that was emanating from the ice stalactites and stalagmites. The pain was abating and he felt like he could follow her. With a single point at the ground and a very stern look, Dr. Mendés made both of the dogs sit on the rock and ice floor. They looked like they would wait for her to return until time stopped.

In the dim light, he was able to navigate between the hanging ice lamps and those that seemed to grow from the floor. He could think of them as nothing else but ice lamps because that was what they seemed to be. The tunnel went on for a long time, and they penetrated deeper and deeper into the earth and ice. Wendel had never been very good at the tests and contests at detecting magic fields. It was something that a lot of his peers called a talent and not a skill. Magic could be learned but there were a lot of areas of study that an inborn aptitude for helped with substantially.

Wendel could sense the field now, and it was by a wide margin the most powerful he had ever felt. Deeper and deeper they crept into the strange tunnel, until the light started to get brighter. Now there was a faint humming sound, and it filled Wendel with terror. He didn’t know what to expect at the end of the tunnel but he kept thinking of the doctor telling him not to do anything that would cause him to die.

Finally, he felt a hand on his chest, and Dr. Mendés stopped. She gestured to him and he didn’t exactly know what her hand signals meant. Then she started walking again, even slower than before. Suddenly, the tunnel opened into a vast cavern.

The light was blinding now, and before he could see anything else Wendel had to close his eyes and shield the lids against the blinding light. A hand on his shoulder forced him down to one knee, and he remembered the doctor telling him to kneel. This was better anyway, with his head bowed he could at least open his eyes. He didn’t know if he was supposed to look up, thinking of her warning about staring.

Karene. Welcome.

I come bearing honor and respect ----- Wendel was hearing these words in his mind, the first had to be whatever was in this cavern, and it had called the doctor Karene. The second was obviously the doctor, though her voice in his head sounded deeper and echoed. The last word she spoke, the name of whoever she was talking to was unintelligible.

Wendel. Welcome.

I come bearing honor and respect. Wendel thought these words as hard as he could, afraid to raise his head and afraid that not being able to repeat the name he had heard from the doctor might be perceived as an insult. He heard a sound like snow falling from a tree branch and realized that the being they were visiting was laughing.

You may raise your head, Wendel.

Wendel raised his head, and looked upon the single most beautiful sight his eyes had ever beheld. Filling the all of the visible space, hovering just above the floor, and reaching almost to the top of the indescribably big cavern was an ice crystal. No, that wasn’t right, it was a single snowflake.

Your adoration fills me with joy. Wendel blushed, and again he heard the sound like snow falling from a tree branch.

----- we come with a single question. The doctor’s voice again, and then all of a sudden images upon images of the villages surrounding the area. The very villages that had sent them on this quest. Fields buried in snow, houses destroyed, lives in shambles.

It is very tragic and yet it is natural. The mountain gives and takes with the same hand.

Thank you. We will leave you in peace and solitude when the sun breaks in the morning.

Thank you Karene, and understand that this one you travel with is destined for greatness. Wendel could actually feel the confusion coming from the doctor! Again he heard the sound that was laughter.