Chapter Thirty-six
Every time I opened a way to the Nevernever, it always looked pretty much the same-an uneven vertical rip in the air that let in the sights and sounds and scents of the world on the other side. The longer I wanted the rift to stay open, the bigger I'd rip the hole. More experienced wizards had made a comment or two over the years to suggest that I still had a lot to learn on the subject.
When Lily opened the way to Arctis Tor, I understood why. Light and color shifted over the screen, their flow quickening, deepening. At first nothing else happened. The movie screen was simply a surface. Then the hairs on the back of my neck rose, and a cold wind wafted into my face, bringing with it the dry, sterile scent of winter in high, barren mountains and the high, lonely cry of some kind of wild beast like nothing in the real world.
Deep blue came to dominate the colors on the screen, and a moment later resolved itself into the shapes of mountains towering beneath the light of an impossibly enormous silver moon. They were bleak and hateful stone peaks, wreathed in mist and wrapped in ice and snow. The wind moaned and blew frozen crystals into our faces, then sank into a temporary lull.
The blowing snow cleared just enough to get me my first look at Arctis Tor.
Mab's stronghold was a fortress of black ice, an enormous, shadowy cube sitting high up the slope of the highest mountain in sight. A single, elegant spire rose above the rest of the structure. Flickers of green and amethyst energy played within the ice of the walls. I couldn't make a good guess at how big the thing was. The walls and battlements were lined with inverted icicles.
They made me think of the fanged jaws of a hungry predator. A single gate, small in comparison to the rest of the fortress, stood open.
Hell's bells. How the hell was I supposed to get in there? It was almost a relief when the wind rose again, and blowing snow once more obscured the fortress from view.
It was only then that I realized that the way was open. Lily had brought it forth so smoothly that I hadn't been able to tell when image gave way to reality. By comparison, my own ability to open a way to the Nevernever was about as advanced as the paintings of a particularly gifted gorilla.
I glanced back at Lily. She gave me a small smile and then gestured with one hand. One of the fiery butterflies fluttering around her altered course and soared over to me. "This much I can do for you all," she murmured. "It will lead you through the storm, and ward away the cold until you can return here. Do not tarry, wizard. I do not know how long I will be able to hold the way open for your return."
I nodded. "Thank you, Lily."
This time her smile was warmer, more like that of the girl she had been before becoming the Summer Lady. "Good luck, Harry."
Fix took a deep breath and then hopped up onto the stage floor at the base of the movie screen. He turned to offer me a hand up. I took it, stared at the frozen wasteland for a second, and then stepped directly forward, into what had been the screen.
I found myself standing in knee-deep snow, and the howling winds forced my eyes almost shut. I should have been freezing, but whatever enchantment Lily's blazing butterfly used seemed effective. The air felt almost as warm as that of a ski slope seeing its last day of the season. Thomas, Murphy, and Charity stepped out of a shimmer in the air, and Fix followed them a second later.
"Hey, Fix," I said. I had to raise my voice to be heard over the wind. "I thought you weren't coming."
The Summer Knight shook his head. "I'm not. But it will be easier to stop anything going through from this side," he said. He regarded us and asked lightly, "You bring enough iron, you think?"
"We're about to find out."
"Christ. You're going to piss off Mab something fierce, bringing iron here."
"I was doing that anyway," I assured him.
He nodded, then glanced back at the rift and frowned. "Harry," he said. "There's something you should know before you go in."
I arched an eyebrow and listened.
"We just got word from our observers that there's a battle underway. The Reds found one of the major headquarters of the Venatori Umbrorum."
"Who?" Charity asked.
"Secret organization," I told her. "Like the Masons, but with machine guns."
"The Venatori sent out a call for help," Fix continued. "The Council answered it."
I chewed my lower lip. "Do you know where?"
"Oregon, couple hours from Seattle," he said.
"How bad is it?"
"So far it's too close to call. But it's not good. The Reds had their sorcerous types mucking around with a lot of the Council's pathways through the Nevernever. A lot of the Wardens got sidetracked from the battle completely."
"Dammit," I muttered. "Isn't there anything Summer can do to help?"
Fix grimaced and shook his head. "Not with the way Mab's forces are disposed. If we pull enough of our forces from Summer to help the Council, it will weaken us. Winter will attack." He stared at the looming fortress, glimpsed in half instants through the gusting snow, and shook his head. "The Council's mind-set is too defensive, Harry. If they keep sitting tight and reacting to the enemy, instead of making the Reds react to them, they'll lose this war."
I grunted. "Clausewiz would agree. But I don't think the Merlin knows from Clausewitz. And this is a long way from over. Don't count us out yet."
"Maybe," he said, but his voice wasn't confident. "I wish I could do more, but you'd better get going. I'll hold the door for you."
I offered him my hand and he shook it. "Be careful," I said.
"Good hunting," he replied.
I glanced at my three companions and called, "Ready?"
They were. We followed the burning butterfly through the snow. Without its protection from the elements, I doubt we would have made it, and I made it a point to remember to wear sufficient cold-weather gear in the event that I somehow survived this ongoing idiocy and was crazy enough to come back a second time. Even with the Summer magic to protect us, it was a pretty good hike over unfriendly terrain. I'd done worse in the past, with both Justin DuMorne and Ebenezar, and there are times when having long legs can be a real advantage on rough terrain. Charity seemed all right, too, but Thomas had never been much of an outdoors-man, and Murphy's height put her at a disadvantage that the unaccustomed weight of her armor and cutlery exacerbated.
I traded a glance with Charity. I started giving Thomas a hand on rough portions of our climb. Charity helped Murphy. At first I thought Murphy might take her arm off out of wounded pride, but she grimaced and visibly forced herself to accept the help.