Margit Sandemo: The Ice People 41 - Demon's Mountain

“We have strong helpers,” said André to his mother. “However, there’s something that doesn’t quite make sense to me. Why has Nataniel, who’s the most exposed of us all, only been given Linde-Lou as his protector?”

Heike turned to him. “Dear André, has it never occurred to you who Linde-Lou is?”

“No, he ...”

“He belongs to the black angels! Above all, he’s Lucifer’s grandson!”

André stopped. “Yes, of course! Heaven help anyone who tries to hurt Nataniel!”

“Exactly!” Heike smiled.

They went out onto the yard in the still evening. Nobody said anything as André locked the door after them, leaving Linden Avenue deserted. Because now they were the only three who lived there, and Mali was the youngest of them. She was sixty-six.

One day, they hoped that Tova would take over the place. But they doubted that she would ever get married.

Vetle had many grandchildren. Hopefully, one of them or their children would add to the clan at old Linden Avenue.

If the Ice People survived ...

It was now or never.

The avenue was enveloped in a haze, which they all thought was strange because it was a clear day and the stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky. When they entered the avenue they couldn’t see the end of it, because the fog was so dense.

It was cold as well. Benedikte shivered and was glad that, after all, she had put on an old jacket over her fine dress.

“Ugh, I feel the cold on my back,” muttered Mali.

Benedikte knew what she meant. It wasn’t just the raw cold ...

Thank goodness that Heike and Dominic were with them. You could sense that Mali and André were trying to hide their unease, which was close to anxiety.

Benedikte took a deep breath before she went deeper into the fog.

“VETLE!”

Vetle Volden had heard that voice once before. He had been fourteen at the time and alone in the house. Now he was fifty-eight, and much water had run under the bridge since then.

He could never forget the deep, almost hollow voice that called so uncompromisingly.

He looked up and saw the Wanderer standing there. The Wanderer in the Darkness, whose life was an enigma. He who had been a contemporary of Tengel the Evil.

Vetle’s friend and protector, just as he had been Heike’s. Now Heike was a protector.

“Yes?” said Vetle. This time, he wasn’t frightened.

“The time has come,” said the Wanderer. “The Ice People are to be gathered tonight. Your wife has gone to bed and she will sleep soundly. So will your daughter-in-law, Lisbeth, and your sons-in-law, Ole Jørgen and Joakim, in their homes. They’re not to know anything about this meeting. But your son Jonathan, and his three children – Finn, Ole and Gro – are to come. They have been summoned.”

“The children are so young! They’re only twelve, thirteen and fourteen years old.”

“You weren’t much older yourself when you left on a far more dangerous journey. Nothing will happen to your grandchildren; they can’t be safer than they will be tonight. And you do want them to be told about this?”

“Of course. What about my other children and grandchildren? Have they also been summoned?”

“Of course.”

“Mari lives so far away.”

The Wanderer smiled his tough smile, which Vetle could only sense within his cowl.

“Mari and her children will find the way. They will be accompanied, just like all the others. I’ve summoned Jonathan and his children myself, because they won’t be given their protectors until later. Let’s be on our way!”

Vetle took a moment to go into the bedroom and kiss his sleeping wife, Hanne, on the forehead. Then he went outside.

They were gathered in the yard of Vetle’s house in the cool spring evening: Jonathan and his three children, Finn, Ole and Gro. For a change, the three children were quiet and a bit serious with excitement.

Then the Wanderer signalled that they were to follow him.

Finn was baffled. “Where on earth does this fog come from? It’s only here out on the road in front of our gate.”

The Wanderer said wryly: “Let’s just get going; everything is as it should be.”

They entered the fog with great trepidation, and everything else around them disappeared. The whole world was gone; everything was just a light, white blanket.

“I should have put on my winter clothes,” muttered Gro, who was the only female member of the group. “It’s icy cold.”

“Now, now. Don’t exaggerate,” said Jonathan softly.

I wonder who will be my helper, Finn thought. This will be exciting! Grandfather has a very fine one, and Dad will be given just as great a protector, because he said so when he fetched us, this strange man who’s walking ahead of us. Ugh, I feel a shiver down my spine. It’s as if all the hair on my body is standing on end.

“The ground is so hard,” said Ole. “It rings when you walk on it!”

Finn said: “I can’t see it at all. I can’t even see my own feet!”

“Ugh, it’s ever so spooky,” said Gro, creeping closer to her father.

“I think it’s fun,” said Finn, but his voice was trembling slightly.

Nataniel was visiting his mother and wasn’t surprised when Linde-Lou suddenly appeared in the doorway, smiling shyly.

“Well,” said Nataniel to his guest, after putting the remains of supper in the fridge. “Has the time come?”

“Yes,” Linde-Lou replied. “I’ve made your father sleep ...”

Nataniel could feel his heart beginning to beat harder and quicker. Now things were beginning in earnest – above all for him, but also for the others.

“Mum ...?”

“She’s in the living room.”

They went through.

Christa wasn’t alone. She was talking with a dark man with slanted eyes, high cheekbones and an intelligent expression. An exceptionally strong personality. You sensed that immediately.

He turned to Nataniel. “I’m Tarjei, your mother’s guardian.”

Nataniel greeted him respectfully. This was his predecessor, the one who had been meant to fight Tengel the Evil, but whose role had been thwarted.

“How long ... will we be away?” Christa asked him cautiously.

“Don’t worry about that,” replied Tarjei. “Ordinary time on earth stops tonight. You’ll be back by tomorrow morning, even if this night may seem to last several days and nights.”

She smiled uneasily in response.

Christa and Linde-Lou, those two who once loved each other with the world’s most hopeless love, looked at one another for a few, painful seconds. She was beginning to show signs that she had turned fifty whereas he ... he was just as young and guileless as he had been then, more than thirty years ago.

Nevertheless, Christa couldn’t help feeling some ties vibrating between them. Nothing ugly, nothing impure, just an incredible understanding and sincerity. And a sadness that cut right through her soul with searing strength.

“We’re coming,” she said quietly.

Outside, there was a strange, restrained atmosphere of ... tension? Bafflement? Anxiety? No, not anxiety. Anticipation. The distant signals had died out long ago. This evening, the world was serene.

They couldn’t see anything because a heavy fog had settled over the courtyard, and the two mortals assumed that this fog lay over the entire parish.

This wasn’t the case.

Linde-Lou and Tarjei led them into the fog, and it made their skin feel icy cold. Without a word they followed the two men, even though they were very puzzled: at the thickness of the fog and the cold, at their steps that sounded hollow on the ground when they ought not to have been audible.

Neither Christa nor Nataniel asked about anything. They trusted their guides.