"Whoa," said Saark, holding up a hand. "Poisoned? As in, gets into our bodies and chokes us, kind of poison?"
"Balaglass Lake is frozen," said Myriam. "But not with ice, with toxins. Even in high summer it remains solid, but as unwary travellers wander across its seemingly solid surface, then a pool will suddenly open up and eat them. I saw it, once. Near the edge. Man fell in, up to his knees; over the next few days, the… water, or whatever it is, ate the flesh from his bones. We strapped him down, used tourniquets, a leather strap between his teeth. He screamed for three nights until we could bear it no more and put him out of his misery." Myriam faltered, and was silent.
"A happy tale," snapped Saark. "Thank you so much for lifting my mood!"
"We need to cross it," said Kell. "It's the quickest way."
"Where to?" said Saark, face a frown.
"To the Black Pike Mines," said Kell.
They stood by the shores of Balaglass Lake, but there was nothing to see except a perfectly flat platter of snow. A wind sighed from the edge of the Iron Forest, ruffling Kell's beard as his dark eyes swept the flat plateau.
"You see?" pointed Myriam, behind her. They looked at the animal tracks. "Nothing heads out onto the frozen lake; it's as if the animals know it's evil and will suck them down."
"What freezes it, if not the ice?" said Saark, rubbing his chin.
Myriam shrugged. "Who knows? It has always been thus. Styx said his father, and his father's father, had both always known it as such a place. And that only the foolhardy attempted to cross."
"How big is it?" said Saark, peering out across the desolate flat plain.
"Big enough," laughed Kell, and stepped out onto the frozen surface. "See. Solid as a rock."
Saark stared at him. "It's when you say things like that the ground normally opens up and swallows you! You should not tempt the Fates, Kell. Their sense of humour is more corrupt than a canker's brain."
"Ah, bollocks," said Kell. "Come on ladies, we have a mission. You want to save Falanor? Well it won't happen if you all stand there picking your noses."
"I do so under protest," said Myriam, and warily tested the surface with her boot. "Seeing a man scream with only bone sticks as legs taught me never to chance my luck here." Even so, she stepped onto the frozen lake and stood beside Kell. Then Nienna stepped out, and lifted her head proudly, turning to meet Saark's gaze.
Saark stepped from one boot to the other. "You sure there's no way round?" he whined.
"Get out here!" thundered Kell, and turning, stalked off across the plate of ice.
Warily, Saark followed, leading Mary who shied away, trying to pull back. "Shh!" soothed Saark, and slowly, gently, coaxed the donkey out onto the frozen surface.
Myriam, who was twenty paces ahead, turned. "See. Animals can sense it. Sense the death."
"Will you fucking shut up!" shouted Saark, irate now as he fought with the donkey. "Shh, girl, come on, girl, it won't hurt you, girl, please come on, trust me, it won't hurt."
"Is that how you coax all the ladies?" grinned Myriam.
Saark considered this, and frowned. "That's just a damn and dirty misrepresentation," he said. Then smiled. "Although I have to admit, it works sometimes."
Kell and Nienna were ahead, Kell striding through the powdered snow without a backward glance, the mighty Ilanna in one fist, his other clenched tight. Nienna trotted by his side, and glancing back, she saw Saark and Myriam following.
"Does this lake really swallow people, grandfather?" she asked, staring down at her boots. She had come to trust the ground, and the thought of walking on thin ice filled her with a consummate fear.
"Old wives' tales," said Kell, without looking at her. His gaze was focused on the distant line of trees, a swathe of iron-black trunks no bigger than his thumbnails. Half a league, he reckoned. That was a long way to walk on treacherous, thin ice.
Behind, Saark and Myriam were making small-talk.
"Tell me more about the clockwork," said Saark, the rope from a disobedient donkey cutting into his hand and making him wince.
"What do you need to know?"
"You think I will die? Without it, I mean?"
"That is what Tashmaniok and Shanna advised. They may have been lying, though." She peered at Saark. "Why? How do you feel?"
"Wonderful! Powerful, strong, at the peak of my prowess! All pain is gone, my wounds have healed except for the odd twinge; I'm thinking maybe this clockwork vampire thing isn't so bad after all. I am faster, stronger, my eyesight more acute; my stamina rarely leaves me, and I have greater resistance to heat and cold."
"And yet you still moan about your cold toes," observed Myriam.
"That's because the moaning bastard will whine about anything!" shouted back Kell.
"By the gods, he has good hearing for a human," frowned Saark.
"Better watch him, then, when you're sat under the blankets cuddling Nienna."
Saark stared long and hard at Myriam. "I was simply offering warmth and friendship," he said.
"Yes," snorted Myriam. "I've seen that sort of friendship a lot during my short, bitter lifetime!"
Saark's eyes went wide. "Me? Really? You think I'd…" He considered this. "Actually, yes, of course you're right. I would. But you're missing the point. With that huge ugly axe hanging like a pendulum over the back of my skull, well, somehow I seem to lose that all-important urge." He grinned, but watched Myriam's face descend into pain. "Are you well?"
"Yes! No. It's just, well, I don't want to talk about it."
Saark replayed the conversation in his mind. Something had upset Myriam. What had it been? With his big flapping lips, he'd managed to put his damn soldier's boot in the horse shit again. Saark frowned, then stopped walking, placing his hands on his hips. Mary clacked to a halt behind him, and Myriam turned, a question in her eyes.
Saark moved to her, and he was close, and he could smell her scent, a natural wood-smoke, a musky heady aroma mixed with sweat and Myriam's natural perfume. It made him a little dizzy. It made his mouth dry.
"Yes?" she said.
"Nothing," he smiled, and leant in close, lips almost touching hers, and he paused, and felt her inch towards him, her body shifting, in acceptance, in readiness, in subtle longing; and this was his permission to continue and he brushed her lips with his, a delicate gesture as if touching the petals of a rose and he felt her sigh. He eased closer, pressed his body against hers, and they kissed, and she was warm and firm under his gently supporting hands, her body taut, muscular, stronger than any woman he'd held before. He heard her groan, and her kiss became more passionate and Saark understood now, understood with the clarity of blood on snow. She had been eaten by the parasite cancer, and retreated like a snail into its shell. Myriam had repressed her lust, her longing, her desires, and it had been a long time since she'd had a real man; a long time since she'd had any man. Saark grinned to himself. I'll show her what a real man is all about, and he kissed her with passion, with delicacy, with an understanding of exactly what women want, how to bring them out, how to allow them to enjoy themselves – and more importantly, enjoy themselves with him.
She pulled back. "You're a dirty scoundrel," she laughed.
"Kiss me again."
She kissed him again, with an urgency now that was suddenly interrupted as Mary shoved her muzzle into Saark's cheek and flapped her lips with a "hrrpphhhhh" of splattered donkey saliva. Saark made a croaking sound, taking a step back, and Myriam laughed a laugh which was a tinkling of gentle chimes.
"I think she's jealous," smirked Myriam.
"I think you're right," agreed Saark. "Go on! Shoo! Bloody donkey! Bugger off!"
Myriam touched Saark's cheek. "I'll be waiting for you. Tonight."
Saark gave a single nod. "I know, my sweetness."
The Iron Forest shifted slowly back into view, but Kell had stopped up ahead. The travellers had become strung out, Kell in the lead, followed by a sullen Nienna walking alone, then Saark and Myriam trotting across the flat lake side by side, their faces awash with laughter and good humour. After a few minutes they caught up to Kell, whose dark eyes were surveying the black, seemingly impenetrable mass of the Iron Forest. It was dark, daunting, huge angular trunks and branches like broken claws. A dull silence seemed to ooze from the forest like an invisible smoke. No birds sang. No sounds came to the group, except for…