'I search for the Cailleach Bheur,' the thing said in a voice that sounded like glass breaking. 'She may release the Fimbulwinter.'
Everyone in the group was struck dumb by the terrifyingly strange apparition looming before them. It swayed from side to side in a manner that suggested it was uncomfortable and they realised it couldn't quite understand the effect it was having on them.
'We… we can't help you,' Crowther replied eventually, his mouth dry. 'I'm sorry.'
'What are you?' Caitlin asked in the frightened voice of Amy.
The thing moved forwards as if blown by the wind until it stood in front of Caitlin, and those frightening red eyes burned into her face. 'I see ice in you?' it said, puzzled. Then, as if realising it had acted impolitely, it stepped back and held out arms swathed in the white tatters. 'I am Moyaanisqi, known as the White Walker. I roam across all worlds. My home is the great wilderness, the frozen plains, the chill peaks. But what,' it added curiously, 'are you?'
'We're… humans,' Crowther replied awkwardly.
'Humans?' The White Walker thought for a moment, then exclaimed, 'Fragile Creatures! I have seen your kind from afar when I have wandered the great mountain ranges of the Fixed Lands in search of the Cailleach Bheur, but never so close. Fragile Creatures!' There was wonder in its voice, as if they were the fantastical beings.
'You've been to our world?' Caitlin asked. 'Many times, though my long quest has made me solitary and wary of contact with others. I roved the high places and the white wastes for a time, leaving only the prints of my feet behind, finding nothing. And so I moved on, here, to the Far Lands. Perhaps my journey will take me further afield again.'
'Then you have seen many things.' There was a gleam in Crowther's eye.
'Many things.'
'We are searching for a place called the House of Pain, though I suppose it may have another name. Could you direct us to it?'
The White Walker thought long and hard, then shook its strange crab-head slowly. 'It may lie in the burning places where I cannot pass. But if that is so, then you may encounter the Djazeem who abide in the great sand- deserts. There is a word of power I know that will make them do your bidding. Whisper it to them and they will be empowered to take you to your destination.' It looked intently into all of their faces and then returned to Caitlin. 'You. For in you there is not only ice, but also the fire that does not burn. You will carry the word of power.'
Caitlin/Amy shied away, but the White Walker moved rapidly to whisper into her ear. Whatever it said, it affected Caitlin profoundly, for she fell to her knees, dazed.
'You will not recall the word until you need it, but it is there. That is my gift to you.' It stared at them, shaking its head in amazement. 'Fragile Creatures!' Then it drew itself up and turned to go. 'Now I must continue my search, for the Cailleach Bheur never rests and the worlds must not come to an end.'
Crowther called out one more question. 'Who should we ask for guidance?' The White Walker waved its tatters towards the lowlands. 'Follow this path to another gully and then to the plain. I have heard tell there is a place nearby where live many who were once Golden Ones, but are no longer. They may know more. Farewell.'
Before they could answer, it was gone, perfectly lost against the snowy background.
'What,' Matt said in a state of extreme awe, 'was that?'
'In the Dyak dialect of Borneo, there is a word,' Crowther mused, 'ngarong. It means a secret helper who appears in a dream. And, my friend, you will soon learn that this is very much a dream.' They made their way into another gully below the snowline. The way was uneven underfoot, and they had to pick their way carefully so as not to plunge on to the jagged rocks that lay all around. Broken-backed, skeletal trees pointed their way down the mountainside, at once cosily familiar yet somehow eerily alien. Such was the confusion of outcroppings that they couldn't measure their location against anywhere beyond their immediate surroundings.
Eventually, the rocky mountainside gave way to gentler slopes where wild grasses and flowers grew in abundance, and the trees became sturdier and thick with leaves. The temperature increased several degrees, but they still couldn't get their bearings or even tell the time of day, for a thick fog hung low, the air infused with fine droplets of moisture that soaked them to the skin within minutes.
Caitlin had the odd sensation that the scenery was creating itself just beyond her perception, shaping itself to fit her expectations. And if she allowed herself to dwell on that notion, she then had the disturbing feeling that there was an intellect all around her, in everything — the grass, the fog, the stones beneath her feet. She walked on the face of an infinite god, which could open its mouth and gobble her up in an instant. The notion set the voices at the back of her head chattering like monkeys in the jungle. They broke the journey for a while and slept, possibly for hours, but it was difficult to tell because it was still daylight when they awoke. When they set off once more, Crowther strode on ahead, using his staff like a rudder to steer them. Caitlin and Matt followed closely at his heels with Mahalia and Carlton bringing up the rear. After her initial euphoria, Mahalia had returned to her brooding, continually watching their surroundings with suspicion, which Caitlin decided was not a bad thing. But Carlton was bright and excited, skipping here and there to examine each new landmark as if he were on the holiday of a lifetime.
'I didn't realise you were such a fighter,' Caitlin said to Matt as they waded through waist-high grass that rippled around them like a green sea. 'You were a natural back at the Rollrights.'
Matt shrugged uncomfortably. 'It's amazing what you find inside you when you really need it.'
'Well, I'm glad you're here.'
'I want to prove my worth. I still feel like a hanger-on. Professor Crowther…'
'Ignore him. He's grumpy about everything. Whatever he says, I bet he's secretly glad you're along for the ride.'
Matt shifted uncomfortably, then said, 'There's no easy way to put this, but… are you feeling OK?'
'You mean the voices? I don't want-' Shards of glass were suddenly being driven into her brain. Her hands shot to cover her eyes.
'I'm sorry…'
But his question had released some of the pressure and words came out unbidden. 'There are four of them, apart from me, all sitting in an Ice-Field, looking out into the night.' She approached the image hesitantly, like a sleeping jungle beast.
'You're aware of them?'
'All the time.'
'How does that feel?' He looked uncomfortable at his probing, but couldn't help his curiosity.
'Like they're all me, but not me. I know that doesn't make any sense, but I can't describe it any other way. There's a pressure in my head, as if they're all jammed in, each one trying to force themselves forward. Me… Caitlin… I'm a little stronger, so most of the time I can stay at the front. But if one of the others became stronger…' She really didn't want to consider that. 'In a strange way, they help.'
'How's that?'
'Most of the time they stop me thinking about Grant and Liam.' Two graves, a stormy night; her mind shifted with a tempest-driven lurch. 'Even mentioning their names, I know… I could go mad if I allowed myself to think about it.' She laughed bitterly. 'Mad! Madder… maddest… My sanity is hanging on a cliff edge by its fingertips, and the slightest thing could send it plunging into some big black hole, never to return. The others… it feels as if they're keeping all my thoughts and feelings chained up, keeping me steady. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here.' She chewed her lip until it hurt. 'I'd probably be dead.'