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Aulf bit his lip awkwardly. It was Ingar who came to the rescue.

  ‘You did the right thing,’ she said. ‘It was a terrible thing to happen, but you did everything you could.’

  ‘But what are we going to do now?’ Elya whispered, through her tears.

  ‘We’ll work something out,’ Ingar assured her, fixing Aulf with a hard stare. Pulling himself together, Aulf nodded. In truth, he had thought no further than the immediate challenge of saving two half dead children from frozen oblivion. For most of his twenty-two years, there had been only himself to look after, but now others needed his guidance. He thought about the twins’ father, helpless in death out on the ice, and was determined not to let them down.

  ‘Ingar’s right,’ he said. ‘We’ll work something out. But not now. Right now, the two of you are exhausted, and nobody thinks straight when they’re that tired. Tomorrow is soon enough to be making plans. What you both need is a good night’s sleep, here in the warm, and we’ll talk tomorrow.’

  With Jacob settled back in his bunk, Aulf and Ingar left the twins to sleep and went out on the deck of the Aurora. Night was falling fast, the stars already piercing the deepening blue of the evening sky. As the sun slid away below the flat horizon, so the temperature on the open ice plummeted. Aulf and Ingar tugged sheepskin mittens over their knitted gloves and pulled their woollen mufflers closer around their faces against the sharp bite of the freezing air. Together, they looked out over the wreck of the twins’ boat in subdued silence. Finally Aulf spoke.

  ‘Do you believe them?’

  Ingar looked at Aulf’s face to gauge what he was thinking. ‘Their clothes, the way they speak - their boat even - I’ve not met anyone like them before. But you’re the sailor,’ she reminded him. ‘You know more about what it would take to cross the great Ice Plain. I didn’t think it was possible.’

  Aulf stared out into the dusk as though he could see the endless blankness of the Ice Plain stretching away into oblivion, cold and unyielding. Skymirror, Jacob had called it.

  ‘I didn’t think so either. Out there, there’s nothing but featureless, blinding whiteness, and treacherous mists. Keeping a straight course is impossible, and the ice just goes on and on, forever. But with an enchanted stone to help you, who knows?’

  ‘So, it could be true then?’

  In the failing light, Ingar caught an unmistakable glint of excitement in Aulf’s eyes.

  ‘I hope it is! Just imagine how incredible it would be to take the Aurora across the Ice Plain, and find out what lies beyond it!’

  Ingar heard the thrill of longing in Aulf’s voice. He was more at home on his boat then he ever was on land.

  ‘As long as you took me with you.’

  ‘That goes without saying.’ Aulf gave her a broad grin. ‘You are my crew, after all.’

  Chapter 3

  ‘Perhaps Elya and I could bring our things over here onto your skiff,’ suggested Jacob, as they ate breakfast together the next morning. ‘And... well, if there’s anything you might find useful, we could bring that back too.’

  ‘Good plan,’ Aulf agreed. ‘But we need to work fast. If raiders spot us, we’re a sitting target.’

  ‘What about Father?’ asked Elya, and she and Jacob exchanged another silent look. There was no mistaking the dread in both pairs of green eyes.

  Aulf cleared his throat. ‘There’s plenty of firewood. I’m not sure what you… how you…’ He tailed off, uncertainly. Their customs might be different, after all.

  Jacob dragged his gaze back to Aulf.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said, steadying his voice with an effort. ‘We need to build a pyre.’

  Aulf sailed the Aurora in a long arc, bringing it up next to the stricken craft. The Aurora was fast because she was light and strong, but there was plenty of room on board. The side lockers were mainly empty except for vast coils of rope acquired at various times from raiders’ trip lines. Ingar swiftly began to fill these with salvaged blocks and cleats from the wreck while Aulf lashed down a deck locker he had dragged across from the stranded vessel. Jacob appeared, staggering across the ice under the weight of an intricately carved wooden frame fixed to a round base. Aulf jumped down eagerly to help him lift it aboard the Aurora and lower it carefully onto the deck.

  ‘This won’t work properly if there’s metal nearby,’ Jacob warned Aulf as he hung another lodestone from the frame, a larger version of the one he had shown Aulf the evening before. The disc on the base of the frame was marked with numbered lines around the edge and could be rotated to point the same way as the stone. Aulf walked around the device several times, admiring every little detail of its design and thinking it was one of the most fascinating and beautiful things he had ever seen.

  Back on the ice, Aulf examined the broken runners of the wrecked ship, curious about the strips of metal fixed to each runner. They had buckled and twisted when the wood splintered, but not cracked. The metal seemed as hard as iron but as malleable as copper. Carefully, Aulf peeled the strips from both runners and stowed them carefully in a locker.

  When finally the wreck was stripped of everything salvageable, Aulf moved the Aurora away, and they faced the toughest task of all. Using the charred door of the cabin as a bier, they hoisted the dead man between them onto the deck of his ruined boat and laid him on a bed of sails. Not sure what else to do, Aulf and Ingar retired to the Aurora, leaving Jacob and Elya to say goodbye to their father.

  Brother and sister stood close, not moving, hands joined and heads lowered. Aulf looked round to speak to Ingar, and was surprised to see her cheeks streaked with tears. He had not seen her cry before. He looked away again, pulling his goggles over his eyes.

  ‘Because of the glare,’ he told himself.

  The sun climbed higher in the flawless blue sky. On the deck of the wrecked boat, the twins stood unmoving. Only the ever present wind stirred in the rigging of the Aurora, tugging at their hair and clothes. Aulf and Ingar, watching from the Aurora, saw the twins turn as one and lower themselves carefully onto the ice. The time had come. Swiftly, Ingar slipped into the cabin to light the torch they had already prepared - a piece of shattered planking, wrapped at one end with a strip of oil-soaked sailcloth. Jacob was waiting for her beside the Aurora as she came out of the cabin and she handed the flaming stick into his uplifted hand. Solemnly, he walked back across the ice to where his sister stood close to the broken Gem, and thrust the torch into the jagged spars and splinters of timber piled beneath the stricken boat. Fanned by the wind, the flames caught instantly. The twins headed back to the Aurora. As the blaze licked higher, the deck of the Gem became less distinct, the air above shimmering in the unaccustomed heat. With a ferocious roar, the whole boat was suddenly engulfed in flame. Smoke billowed against the clear blue sky, pushed over by the constant breeze. Aulf, worrying that the great column of smoke might attract unwanted attention, had to fight a restless desire to be on the move, but he didn’t want to be the one to break the silence.

  ‘We should leave,’ Jacob said at last.

  Aulf breathed a secret sigh of relief. Swiftly, he pulled in the main.

  ‘Boats!’ yelled Ingar, pointing at the shimmering horizon.

  Aulf’s mouth tightened as he squinted through his goggles in the direction of Ingar’s pointing finger. Five boats were clearly discernable, moving swiftly across the ice towards the burning wreck and the Aurora. Even at a distance, Aulf could make out the patched sails and makeshift cabins protruding from the decks, and knew them instantly as raiders. A motley fleet, but a fast one.

  ‘Jump in the netting and hang on,’ he ordered the twins.

  The Aurora had two outriggers, large skis outstretched on either side of the boat, attached to the hull by horizontal ladders with nets strung beneath them. Jacob and Elya tumbled into the nets, something in Aulf’s tone forestalling any protest they might have made, and Aulf and Ingar flung themselves onto the outriggers.

  The Aurora had not had time to pick up enough speed and the r
aiders were closing fast. Jacob, clinging to the netting, could already pick out the individual figures of the raiders in the lead vessel, so heavily fur clad their faces were mostly obscured, but their whooping war cries carried clearly. An arrow whistled above his head, clattering harmlessly on the ice beyond. The gap was narrowing fast. Jacob saw one of the fur clad men swing a grappling hook and braced himself for the inevitable impact.

  Aulf jerked the Aurora round in a violent tack, throwing the entire vessel onto the far outrigger. The boat groaned with the force of the sudden change of direction, and Jacob winced as a flurry of ice shards flew upwards and stung his cheek. One side of the main deck slammed back down onto the ice so hard, he felt he had been winded, and suddenly they were away.

  Taken completely by surprise, the raiding ships slid harmlessly past as the Aurora, gaining momentum, shot away on her new course, the shouts of the raiders following clearly on the breeze. In a last attempt to intercept their escaping prey, the pursuing boats spread out, but the Aurora, having gained her advantage, now sped away over the frozen sea with the ease of a gliding bird.

  Aulf swung away from the sun, heading towards Quayven, and soon the raiding boats dwindled to mere specks in the distance. The smoke was no more than a distant dark smudge on the horizon, and in front of them, the ice formed a vast unbroken plain. They had avoided disaster, yet Aulf was still troubled. Already late with the post, he was uncertain what to do. As the first indistinct hint of an island broke the clear rim of the horizon, he glanced at the lodestone fastened to the deck. Sure enough, it was still pointing just in front of the sun. Looking at the strange and beautiful contraption, his doubts grew even heavier.

  ‘We can’t sail into Quayven with those two and all this gear on board,’ he muttered to Ingar, taking her aside out of the twins’ hearing. ‘Can you imagine the fiasco? Not to mention the fact it would be an open invitation to every quick-fingered vagabond on the dockside!’

  ‘We need somewhere safe to store it all,’ Ingar agreed.

  ‘Ma’s,’ they said in unison.

  Aulf, bit his lip as he considered their options. ‘We’d best keep out of sight of Quayven though. And it would mean another night camping on the ice.’

  ‘What about the mail?’ Ingar reminded him. ‘You’ve never been late before.’

  ‘Can’t be helped.’ Aulf gave a resigned shrug. Changing direction again, he sailed on, keeping the distant island on the horizon.

  Chapter 4

  Aulf held a steady course. Around them, the circle of ice stretched out unchanging, never seeming to shrink. Jacob and Elya huddled on the deck, brooding and silent, watching the endless whiteness slip past.

  Suddenly, Ingar flew out of the cabin.

  ‘The stove door’s been left open! We’ve lost the fire! It must have got knocked when we were moving all the stores.’ She threw her hands up in frustration. ‘We won’t be able to stay out on the ice overnight without a fire.’

  Jacob looked over at Aulf, and was surprised to see that Aulf looked as dismayed as Ingar.

  Ingar gave a small helpless shrug. ‘We’ll have to risk sailing into Quayven, after all.’

  Jacob waited for Aulf to answer, but he was looking away to the horizon, tightening his lips as he pondered this disaster. The little frown had returned to his forehead.

  ‘Couldn’t we just light another fire?’ asked Jacob, wondering if he was missing something obvious.

  Ingar and Aulf swung round accusingly, as though he was trying to make fun of them. He shrank back.

  ‘What if we can’t get it going?’ Ingar reprimanded him. ‘We can’t stay out on the ice tonight unless we can be sure we’ve got a fire.’

  Jacob and Elya exchanged puzzled glances. ‘Don’t you have a flint and steel?’ Jacob, asked, bemused.

  Ingar and Aulf looked blank. ‘A flint and what?’ queried Ingar.

  ‘A flint and steel,’ repeated Jacob. Realising from their expressions that they had no idea what he was talking about, he looked puzzled himself. ‘Well, what do you use to make a fire?’

  Ingar vanished back into the cabin, reappearing with a bow in her hand.

  ‘You use a bowdrill?’ Jacob raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s hard work! I’ve never managed to burn anything except my hand with a bow drill’

  Aulf laughed, and the tension relaxed. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘But at least you get warm trying to start the fire! We really rely on keeping the smoulder going, especially out here on the ice.’

  Jacob looked hard at Aulf and Ingar. ‘Do you know what a flint and steel is?’

  ‘I know what flint is,’ Aulf answered. ‘It’s a type of stone. But I’ve never heard of steel.’

  ‘When you reheat iron in charcoal, it becomes stronger and more malleable,’ Jacob told him. ‘That’s steel.’

  ‘Like the metal on your boat’s runners?’ Aulf looked pleased with himself for solving the puzzle. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know any metal like that.’

  Jacob decided he liked Aulf. Most people – most adults, anyway – would have taken offence at being put right about something they didn’t know by someone so many years their junior. Aulf, however, didn’t seem at all put out.

  Ingar looked doubtful. ‘And you can light fires with this steel?’

  Jacob nodded. ‘It’s easy with a flint and steel.’

  ‘So, have you got one?’ she asked, still unconvinced.

  Jacob looked round at Elya, and found she was already staring at him, her face aghast as realisation struck her. ‘Oh no, Jacob! You know what we’ve done?’

  Jacob stared back at her blankly, before comprehension dawned. The same look of dismay swept over his face.

  Elya looked at Aulf. ‘We left home in a hurry. There was only one steel on board. It was so important that father wore it round his neck…’ She was close to tears.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Aulf assured her. ‘We’ll think of something.’

  Jacob’s sharp mind was already ahead. ‘What about an ice lens?’ he suggested. ‘If we stop now, while the sun’s still up, we can do that easily. Assuming you have a drill and a saw.’

  ‘An ice lens?’ Aulf looked baffled. Jacob opened his mouth to explain further but Aulf held up his hand and grinned. ‘I think it might be easier if you just show us?’

  He let off the main, slowing the Aurora.

  ‘How old are you?’ he asked Jacob.

  ‘Fifteen.’

  Jacob saw Aulf’s eyes examining him closely. He looked almost amused.

  ‘How old did you think we were then?’

  ‘I thought you must be about that when I first saw you, but you seem to know so much.’

  Jacob shrugged. ‘Not really. Just the usual stuff.’

  With the Aurora at a standstill, Jacob clambered down onto the ice, saw and drill in hand, and walked purposefully away from the boat, his eyes searching keenly over the solid frozen expanse.

  ‘How far is he going?’ Aulf questioned, a note of concern in his voice as the thin, blonde figure receded ever further into the distance.

  ‘He’s looking for blue ice,’ Elya explained in her quiet voice, and seeing Aulf’s lack of comprehension, she added, ‘The bluer the ice, the clearer it is.’

  Aulf tried to look as though this made sense to him.

  When Jacob returned, he was carrying a large chunk of freshly cut ice which he handed to Elya.

  ‘So, you’re intending to start a fire with a lump of ice?’ Aulf raised a sceptical eyebrow, and laughed aloud. Elya grinned too. Secretly, Aulf was relieved to see her smile. She was quieter than her brother, her green eyes more intense, as though she looked deeper and saw more than her fair-haired twin. But now she looked animated and there was a spark in the emerald depths of her eyes.

  ‘Can I borrow your knife?’ she asked Ingar. Ingar took the sturdy blade from her belt and passed it over without a word.

  ‘Wow!’ said Aulf. ‘You’re honoured! Ingar lending you her knife!’

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bsp; Ingar flashed him a withering look, then turned her gaze back to Elya and the chunk of ice, eager to see what would happen next.

  ‘We’ll need smoulder,’ said Jacob, and Aulf hurried into the cabin to find some. When he emerged with the smoulder and some tinder on a flat slate, Elya was shaping the block of ice with the knife, much as a sculptor might do. It was now roughly curved, like two rounded dishes set rim to rim. She was intent on her work, dark head bent over her carving, her long, gloved fingers expertly wielding the knife blade.

  Finally she seemed satisfied with her sculpted ice disc. She laid the knife aside and began to polish the ice with the sleeve of her coat, pausing now and then to breathe on it before more vigorous polishing. Aulf and Ingar watched, fascinated. Elya held the now smooth ice lens up to the light and turned it around, examining it critically. Once more she looked satisfied. Arranging the smoulder into a neat pile in the centre of the slate, she raised the finished lens again, holding it carefully above the smoulder. The polished ice caught the light and flashed with the brilliance of the sun. The light shone right through it and made a bright point on the slate. Elya adjusted the position of the lens until the point of light was focused on the smoulder. They all watched in silent anticipation, mesmerised by the tiny pinpoint of brilliance.

  For a few moments, nothing happened, then Aulf drew a quick audible gasp. It was unmistakable. In front of their eyes, a thin spiral of smoke was rising from the small heap of smoulder. Beneath the smoke, a tiny flame leapt. It was magic. There was no other word for it.

  Wide-eyed, Ingar crouched down and pushed some tinder gently into the little flame. It flared instantly. Reverently, she picked up the slate and carried it back into the cabin, nudging it anxiously into the iron stove, and adding a few pieces of charcoal.

  It was real enough; she could feel the first small ripples of heat beginning to rise from the little yellow flames. Still she crouched by the stove, as though she couldn’t quite believe what she had seen, until her few pieces of charcoal were well and truly alight. She added some more and closed the door of the stove. Only when the casing had grown warm and she was certain beyond any doubt that she would not lose the fire again, did she stand up, closing the vents to let the charcoal smoulder and save it burning away.