Kai and Gerda had been gathering clean ice to melt for over two hours, loading it on a sleigh which was almost full, now.
They were pushing the last block when they got drenched.
The ever unchanging frozen river where they’d worked suddenly burst to life, and water poured down.
His body moved quicker than his mind: he pushed Gerda aside and managed to move out of the way just as a torrential jet floated down, heading towards the village.
Kai wasn't pressingly concerned; they hadn't built it – it would have been completely useless, as every source of water had been solid since before they'd moved here – but there was a dam between the jet and their village.
Gerda was laughing in delighted, incredulous and joyful about the outcome, as was her shortsighted nature: Kai was made of different stuff.
His eyes went up, narrowing; incredible, life changing things like that didn't just happen out of nowhere – not to them.
“Come on, Kai!” Gerda beckoned, jumping on the sleigh. “Let’s go tell everyone.”
He shook his head. For one, he wasn’t about to sit on a sleigh directed by Bae, Gerda’s idiotic reindeer; but regardless, he wasn’t returning to the village right now.
“You go. Get Fyn to test it, and wait for my return before anyone drinks it. I'm going to see what happened.”
Kai climbed up, although the constant storm got worse and worse with each step.
They'd established their village as far as anyone could go without freezing to death; a mile up, survival was impossible without the best equipment.
Well, for a human, in any case, which was exactly why this place was perfect for them. They tolerated the cold better, and when threatened, they only needed to run up to find shelter.
That village down there was the relic of his people; less than four hundred folks, most of them old. Every decade, they lost an ancient to time and a child to their enemies, at best; but they were hanging on.
Which was why he wasn't taking chances; desperate as they were for drinkable water, he wasn't allowing anyone to touch it until he knew what had caused it to erupt – and whether it had been tampered with.
It took a while for Kai to realize he’d stepped into a territory he’d never seen before. The wards generally pushed him away a good five miles down, but he hadn’t felt the powerful, gut-clenching need to turn back.
That was worrying. Did it mean the mountain wasn’t as safe as it had been?
A sound interrupted his reflection; the laughter seemed to resonate around him, echoing in the forest.
Kai turned around, his frown deepening. What the hell.
It wasn’t snowing right now.
It wasalwayssnowing in the mountains; but in the last few minutes, the storm had stopped, the misty frost had lifted. He could actuallyseearound him.
Harsh, uncaring, dangerous as the world he lived in was, he couldn’t deny how breathtaking it looked today, with the sun beaming through the powdered trees.
It wastooperfect; there even were damn birds singing. These lands hadneverharbored birds; he would know. He and the other hunters went after everything his people could eat; the rest of what they needed, they had to get from human towns.
Following the songs of the birds as quietly as he could, Kai eventually arrived exactly where he needed to be.
There was the answer to his questions: between the mountain where his village was settled, and a higher, more imposing peak, dominating the entire chain, there was a large tarn, and water flowed freely, heading down.
Kai was torn between thanking his fortune and wondering why it had happened now, after ten years of struggle. He was no meteorologist, but there had been no dramatic change of climate, as far as he knew.
Eventually, convincing himself that it didn’t matter, he drew an arrow from his back, and shot one of the deer around the pool, first – then, before they could fly away, a couple of pheasants, and something that looked like a duck.
Fuck. He’d never brought back that much food in one go, after less than an hour of hunting.
Needless to say, the duck would behis.He was generous and all, but there would be no sharing that roast.
Things were definitely looking up; they might not need help after all.