Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 46 - The Black Water

“The demons don’t make such mistakes,” said Marco. He was on his knees next to the horns. “Yes, I thought so. The horn isn’t broken. It’s been loosened deliberately.”

“Why?” asked Tova stupidly. “Who did that?”

Neither Marco nor Nataniel answered her. They were focused on the horn.

The huge yak horn took up a lot of space on the stone floor. The other one was still stuck in the animal’s skull.

“Here’s the hole that the flute was placed in once,” said Marco. “And where it fell out, by Eldafjord.”

“Oh, wait.” Nataniel was breathless. “Here’s another hole, and I swear it wasn’t here the last time we saw the horns. Here, look! At the tip.”

Ian whistled. “Wow!”

“So you can blow into it,” said Tova, impressed. “But aren’t yak horns difficult to get a sound out of?”

“Not if you know how to,” said Marco. “But I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Neither do I,” said Nataniel.

“I played the trumpet once,” Ian admitted humbly. “But it won’t be the same ...”

“Won’t it?” Marco asked challengingly.

“You never forget the technique. But such a primitive instrument ... Of course, I could always give it a try.”

“I think you should,” said Nataniel calmly.

“Please do,” said Tova. “At least, you’re bound to make those who blocked our exit wet their pants. They’ll be shocked!”

Ian put the horn to his mouth. He had to move right up to the entrance to have enough room.

“That’s right, Ian,” said Nataniel. “You should turn towards the mystical wall!”

Ian filled his lungs and pressed his lips to the tip of the horn.

A roar filled the tiny crypt. Gabriel put his hands to his ears and the others moaned.

Ian blew for a long time and held the tone indefinitely.

When the sound had died out, not a sound could be heard. They all feared that they had gone deaf when the terrible roar, which had made the wall shake, had disappeared. But a thin, vibrating tone was left. It was so high and piercing that they hadn’t registered it at first. As they listened, its tone became deeper until the echo resounded, weaker now but like the sustained lowest C of an organ.

The walls began to shake once more. At first vaguely, hardly noticeably, then so much that the five had to hold on.

Up slid the short far wall, and a gate opened with a roar.

Afterwards they understood that the roar had come not only from the cliff itself moving. It was also the very distant whirr that had risen to a howling roar as it came much closer to them.

Inside the newly opened gate – which was shockingly narrow – there was complete darkness.

They looked at one another.

“Could Tengel the Evil have predicted this?” asked Nataniel doubtfully.

“With the horn?” asked Marco. “I believe he took enormous care of the horns in the Valley of the Ice People. He fumed when the first Jolin ran away with them and the whole treasure. But I don’t think he would have used our method of getting in here. You must remember that he was very skilled in witchcraft. I’m sure he had other ways of entering this crypt. I’m sure that we’ve been able to get in now because our friends, who are no doubt gathered in the Demon’s Mountain, figured out that this would work in an emergency situation, which it did.”

“Switch on your torches,” said Nataniel curtly. “We’re going in.” He was the first to enter. Marco signalled his thanks with a squeeze of Ian’s shoulder. This was praise that Tova and Ian appreciated.

Each of them took a portion of the Ice People’s treasure with them.

As soon as all five were inside, the cliff door slammed shut with a roar.

“There’s no way back,” Tova muttered. “I think this must be how Shira felt in the grottos.”

“Yes,” replied Marco.

“The horns!” wailed Gabriel. “We didn’t bring the horns with us!”

They all stood there as if the air had rushed out of their lungs. What had they done? How on earth were they ever to explain their loss to the others?

Ian threw himself against the closed door in the cliff, but, of course, it was in vain.

“Oh, hell!” said Tova, expressing what they all felt.

Nataniel pulled himself together. “There’s nothing for it but to continue with our task.”

“No, wait a moment,” said Marco. “How could it happen that none of the five of us remembered something so obvious as those huge horns?”

“You’re right,” said Tova, collecting her thoughts. “None of us noticed them. I think our helpers didn’t want us to drag them with us. They had done what they were supposed to do for this task.”

These remarks soothed them. Then they began to take a closer look at their surroundings.

Compared to the primitive crypt they had left, this cave was more finished. Perhaps that wasn’t the right word, but the walls were smoother, and they immediately discovered some decorations on one of them.

“A new gate,” said Gabriel.

“Yes, this one is clear,” said Nataniel. “Tengel the Evil must have done a lot during the thirty days and nights he was here.”

“We must remember that he was skilled in witchcraft even then,” Marco pointed out. “He hardly dug out these grottos with his own hands.”

“No, of course he didn’t. But the question is, did he have help doing it.”

“From whom? Who was his helper?”

“Why not ask who his helpers were!”

They focused on the pattern on the new gate. It seemed to be an inscription ...?

“The signs are impossible to decipher,” said Marco, after examining it for a while.

Nataniel stood in thought, then he said: “I’d love to have Benedikte here so that she could decipher them for us.”

“Could she do that?” asked Tova.

“Not literally. But perhaps she could decipher them intuitively.”

Marco shook his head. “You know perfectly well that Benedikte can’t be here. She can only advise you. Via telepathy.”

“Well, let’s get her advice, then!”

“That sounds sensible.”

They concentrated on Benedikte, and a moment later her thoughts came to them.

Marco frowned. “She’s suggesting Sigleik to me.”

“Yes,” said Tova. “And Heike.”

Nataniel looked up. “You’re right. Let’s get in touch with both of them. If you take Sigleik, I’ll get in touch with Heike.”

The room was quiet again. Ian and Gabriel listened anxiously to the loud noise coming from behind the decorated door.

“I’ve got Heike now,” Nataniel said quietly.

The other two were silent. It was obviously more difficult to reach Sigleik, who wasn’t so used to the Ice People making contact between spirits and the living.

“We must wait,” said Marco. “What kind of signals are you picking up from Heike, Nataniel?”

“He’s telling us that we must find everything that he and Vinga used when he wanted to break through the wall into the parallel world.”

“Ugh!” said Tova.

“No,” said Nataniel. “Heike assures us that this has nothing to do with the grey people.

Ian wanted to know: “Do the spirits of the Ice People know what’s on the other side of these gates that we’re walking through?”

“No. All they know is how we can possibly get through.”

“I see,” said Tova. “Wait ... I believe Sigleik is getting through to me.”

“Now please be quiet everybody,” said Marco, “because he’s not so good at this.”

They waited.

Marco turned visibly pale. Tova’s eyes became bigger and bigger.

“Oh, no!” she whispered:

“What does Sigleik say?”

“He’s deciphering the inscription,” said Marco calmly.

“How exciting,” said Nataniel. “Let’s hear it!”