Fire and Ice
Birthright

The snow crunched underfoot as Reverend James stepped out onto the ice field. He looked down and moved his foot from side to side, moving the slight covering and staring at the glazed surface of frozen water. He knelt and placed his hand on the snow, letting the white blanket run through his fingers and toyed with the fabric of the delicate covering for a moment before placing his hand flat on the ice. He frowned as he touched the surface of the ice and placed a second hand flat on the surface. The ice was warm to the touch and a tender heat generated through his fingertips and warmed his freezing body. A shiver ran down his spine as he wondered what kind of natural event could generate a bizarre feature of warm ice. The wind continued to swirl around him, caressing him with its icy cold touch and reminding the priest that this was in fact a massive ice field.

Still kneeling with his hands in place on the ice, he raised his head and looked across the almost flat surface of the field toward the imposing figures of the volcanoes in the far distance. Thick plumes of black smoke bellowed from each funnel, rising and clawing into the cold evening air. The darkness reminded him that there was little time left. He stood and felt a tremor beneath his feet, pushing him unsteadily across the smooth surface. He was thankful for the presence of snow on the ice making it easier for him to find his footing. He glanced at his palms as he shuffled cautiously across the slippery surface and examined the in-grained dirt which stained his palm. He blew on his hands gently, creating a vortex of air which disturbed the fragments of snow on his hands. He watched for a moment, briefly wondering why the snow hadn’t melted in his hands before glancing back to the two active volcanoes then back to his hands. It wasn’t snow he realised suddenly, the substance on his hands was ash from the mountains. The distant rumble brought him back from his thoughts as the volcanoes angrily reminded him of his purpose as they roared at his intrusion.

His feet slipped on the surface as he struggled to find his path, while his eyes flicked from floor to horizon. He became aware of the increasing volume of cracks spreading across the ice field with each tremor and once again he questioned why and what he was doing. He shook his head...what was he looking for. The evidence before his eyes couldn’t despite the reasoning that the volcanoes were erupting simultaneously, an event like like this could create a rip large enough the tare the planet apart he pondered. A plume of steam erupting from the ice field caught his eye as a deep hole bore through the ice and drove up into air like a giant rising from the depths. The thick white cloud of steam bucked and rolled as it mixed with the freezing air above the ground in a majestic dance, twirling and twisting in time to a silent orchestra of music. Further spouts of steam broke through the ice, throwing chasms of ice into as the violence of the mini-eruptions shook the entire field. Aston stumbled to the ground heavily, his knees connecting sharply with the hard frozen surface. He crawled on his stomach as spires of rock thrust through the surface creating deep gorges across the ice and unsettling the entire stability of the area.

The ground rocked and buckled beneath his body and platforms of ice rose and fell, sending him sprawling helplessly over the glassy layer. His fingers grasped a tower of newly-formed stone and he grasped the rock as the earth buckled in angry contemplation.

Father Brown hauled himself over the barrier at the top of the rope and glanced around the deserted corridor. His ears had become accustomed to the sound of fighting as he climbed and after a while he had realised the noise had succumbed to a low distant rumble. He slowly stalked the corridor, his eyes flicking around the walls as he moved carefully one foot at a time, mindful to be silent in his approach. He paused as he considered where to go, the throne room or the cells. Crane could be in either in pondered as his hand touched the silver pendant from his neck. He pulled himself from the wall and strained his hearing over the sound of the rumble outside and listened for any sound of voices. Nothing. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before turning in the direction of the throne room and padded quietly along the wooden floor. As he neared he pulled himself into the shadows of the corridor as voices drifted through the large double doors of the room. He strained to listen as the woman’s voice penetrated the silence of the corridor and echoed across the walls.

Lady Theye sat on the edge of her throne and gazed down at the bedraggled form of Captain Crane at her feet. The stump at the end of his right arm was covered with roughly cut vine leaves and bound with a single cord. Blood stained the greenery from the hidden injury as he knelt between by guards. “You disappoint me captain” she said coldly as her fingers caressed the drying blood on her face, “I had hoped you would see reason and join me at my side”

“I have no intention of joining your court” he whispered through cracked teeth defiantly, his head lolling as he spoke. “I would rather die”

Lady Theye threw her head back and laughed as she leant back in the chair. The rolls of fat around her waist wobbled as the guttural sound erupted from her body, “such spirit” she laughed, “we shall come to that in due course my dear”, her eyes narrowed as she examined his bloodied body, “where are your friends?” she asked.

Crane raised his head and smiled, “how should I know” he said eventually.

“Oh come now!” mocked Theye, “you think me a fool!” she stood to her feet and stalked around the body of the captain, “I know they live...and I know they are still at large somewhere, what I do not know is where!”

“Does it matter?” croaked Crane.

“I suppose not” she dismissed him and took her seat, “It would have been nice to watch you all die together” She leant forward and whispered toward him, “for your information, the Chamberlain should have dismissed your dark skinned friend by now, and I am awaiting news on your other friends. So, I do not care for these...games you play”

“Then kill me now and get it over with” Crane drew the last vestiges of energy he had remaining and pulled himself to his full height, closing his eyes and placing his hands by his side.

Lady Theye laughed once again, “you shall die, but not yet” she looked at the guards and clapped her hands, “take him away” she ordered. Crane looked at her with hate in his eyes as he was hauled to his feet, “you shall die at my hand” she promised, “but not after you have joined us for a final banquet in your honour”

“I shall decline to eat again” he retorted

“Oh my dear!” she laughed, “you will have no choice, for you shall be the guest of honour”

“What do you mean?”

“You shall be brought before me tonight, stripped and mounted over an open fire where we shall baste your flesh as the flame cooks the meat on your bones. Your screams shall bring a tenderness to the meat and bring our enjoyment of our feast to an almost sexual level. Once I have feasted on your flesh, it is my intention to indulge in wanton lust on your bones with my guests” she smirked as she approached him and whispered in his ear as she grabbed at his loins, “this will be the first piece I shall take in my mouth” she licked her lips as she toyed with his genitals, letting the involuntary twitch of his groins excite her as she rubbed the front of his trousers. “I shall run my tongue along its girth and swallow the meat, letting its juices run down my throat” she grinned as she met his gaze and pulled her hand reluctantly away and moved back to her throne, “take him away and prepare him for the feast” she commanded as her hand rested between her legs, “and see that I am not disturbed for at least an hour!”

The rock burnt his fingers as Aston clung on to the rock as the ground buckled beneath his feet. His body shook with the cold, and his hands burnt from the warmth of the rock. The tremor subsided and slowly he fought against the icy ground to regain his footing. He looked at the series of cracks which was currently spreading across the ice field. The giant platforms were stable and more importantly for him, still packed tightly together. He examined the plume of rock and carefully peered into the vent, moving his face as close as he dared to the rising steam. As his face neared the cloud, flakes of ice touched his skin and despite the hot appearance of the steam, the vapour was cold against his body. He cast his view into the vent and could see a steady tide of molten ice running like a river at the base of the funnel. His hands ran over the warm rock and he cast he eyes toward the other similar edifices that had risen from the surface of the ice. Each was similar in appearance, only a differing in size and shape, and each had a stream of smoke rising from an open vent at the peak of each funnel.

The ground shook again as a tremor erupted from the volcanoes and the ground buckled angrily throwing the hapless priest onto the ice. His hands ran helplessly over the surface as cracks forged path from the base of the volcanoes and over the field. The noise from the sky deafened his thoughts as he scrambled across the breaking ice pack, his hands and feet slipping on the smooth covering. The floor rocked and Aston grasped desperately on the edge of the ice as he was thrown into the air as the platform of frozen water threatened to sink beneath the surface. As it settled he rolled onto his back and breathed heavily, his heart pounding against his rib-cage as the air escaped his lungs. He stared at the darkening sky and forced himself onward, back across the ice field toward the edge of the area and pulled himself up onto the shingle which surrounded the shoreline. He sat for a moment and cast his gaze over the breaking ice and columns of hydro-vents which littered the field. The floor rocked again as another plume of fiery smoke bellowed from the distant volcano and cracks ran toward the shore, breaking in a myriad of miniature sheets.

The priest lent forward at the edge of the field and placed his hands into a deep crack, his fingers screaming at the intense cold of the sheet and he pulled the ice free from its moorings revealing the cold molten heart flowing beneath the ice. He looked on in wonder as the liquid flowed beneath the mountain, pure white thick liquid. He moved closer and lay on his stomach and peered into the flowing mass beneath the ice and watched as the contours of the liquid drifted in patterns, reflecting in the dwindling light. He paused as he watched the thick liquid swirl before his eyes and frowned as he tried to remember what the liquid reminded him of.

He pulled himself into a kneeling position and using one hand to steady himself on the uneven rock, he thrust his other other into the freezing liquid. He felt a bitter cold grasp and attack his hand as his fingers forged a path through the glutinous substance. A chill penetrated his hand, chilling him to the bone and he gritted his teeth as he moved his arm deeper beneath the surface of the planet until his elbow was submerged by the thick liquid. His eyes widened in horror as the cold consumed him, and slowly he pulled his arm out of the ice and drew it level to his face and stared at the covering which encased his arm. A glutinous thick white substance poured over his skin and ran along the limb, dropping into thick white puddles on the ground at his knees. He turned his arm over and looked closely at the substance as it froze his limb, pulling it close to his face and sniffing at the liquid. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Lord in Heaven” he breathed as more of the liquid fell away onto the floor and he looked out over the ice field, “I know...”

Crane allowed himself to be carried along the expanse of the corridor, the energy taken from his body and the will beaten from his soul. The news that he was to be eaten, wasn’t completely unexpected, ‘I hope I give you all indigestion’ he thought warily as the guards dragged him to his cell.

Father Brown had watched as the procession had left the throne room and he had caught most of the conversation within. He followed, occasionally glancing behind to ensure he was not being followed until he felt he was far enough away from the throne room to make his move. He crept low and quietly behind the guards and moving quickly grasped each of their heads and brought them hard together. The two guards moved in unison to the floor as the body of Crane crumpled from their release. “We must go” insisted Brown as he hauled Crane to his feet.

“Leave me” bemoaned Crane warily, “I cannot travel, I am too weak”

“I shall not leave you” persisted Brown, throwing the captain’s arm around his own neck, “we shall leave this nightmare together” he smiled at the other man and pulled him to his feet and along the corridor. The building shook violently as the tremors from the ice field reached the palace, sending the two men sprawling to the floor. “It is the end” commented Brown over the noise of screaming and disruption of trees from outside. “We must get out”

“No” said Crane softly, “this is it” he looked at Brown as the priest hauled him to his feet again, “if we are to die, then please let me see the light of day one last time” Brown looked at Crane and hesitated, “please”

“Very well” agreed Brown reluctantly.

“I know where to go” said Crane nodding down the corridor, “there is a door which leads to an observation gallery on the top of the building, take me there”

“This is a mistake!” snapped Brown, “we should get away”

“You said yourself the planet is dying. If this is the end my friend, then please let me make peace with God” Brown nodded and dragged Crane along the corridor to a small door and pushed their bodies out into the cold evening air.

They staggered as the floor miles below rocked, “it is to dangerous here” insisted Brown as they fell to the floor in unison.

“I lost my hand here” laughed Crane as he stared at the sky as he lay on his back, “I thought I would die”

“Captain...” started Brown.

“Do you believe Father?, I mean really believe”

The question threw the priest for a moment, “I thought I did, but now I’m not sure” he knelt and looked around at the chaos which surrounded them. He could see trees fall and buckle as the ground rocked and shook in a violent dance of destruction.

“I never believed” admitted Crane, “my wife did, but I didn’t. I mean how could someone so omnipotent create, then destroy something as beautiful as this” Brown said nothing just watched over the canopy as trees lifted and fell as the screams from below touched their ears. “Save me” begged Crane grasping the hands of Father Brown.

“I don’t...”

“Please, prayer for me”

Father Dominica Brown smiled at held the single hand of Captain Everton Crane and closed his eyes, “Father, who art in heaven” he began, “hear the voices of your shepherds. We were lost and sought salvation in the false promises of...”

A crackle of static burst through the air, “Father Brown...Captain Crane...come in...Brown...come in...can you hear...me?”

The two men opened their eyes in shock as the voice from the tiny communicator on Crane’s belt burst into life. Father Brown snatched the box and pulled it close to his mouth speaking quickly into the mesh grill at the front of the box. “Aston...is that you” A burst of static spat back at him causing the priest to pull the device from his face, “I say again Father James is that you?”

“Yes...” came the soft voice from the box, “I know...is”

“You’re breaking up” grimaced Brown through gritted teeth, “we cannot hear you “please repeat”

“I...what...”

“Please repeat, we are having difficulty hearing you”

“This is not a planet!” came the frantic response from the communicator.

“Father James, please repeat, I repeat we are having difficulty hearing you”

The voice burst from the box and spoke clearly, “I know what it is” replied the voice of Aston James, “this is not a planet...It’s an egg...and its hatching!”

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