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The Lost Stars ChronicleChapter 21: Avalanche!
The sentimental moment was broken by a colorful swear from Bjarn.
“Megabloken son of a bley brick!”
Anardan murmured an agreement.
“What happened?” queried Voolmark.
“It’s so frigid the tyco hammer snapped.” swore Bjarn, throwing the useless shaft of wood into the snow but keeping the head.
“The sled will run, but if it takes another beating it will fall apart…” said Anardan.
“Well, then, let’s get moving,” replied Voolmark, “I’ll try to use my Earth Magic to sense dangers ahead, but I can’t promise anything.”
They all nodded and set out, skirting the hole and moving away from the dead village of Olgendale. They were slowed down even more, for Voolmark’s probing, the rickety sled, and Reno’s ankle slowed them down greatly.
We’ll be lucky to get to the Yellow Castle by March... grumbled Bjarn.
Before the party had gone five miles, the damaged sled struck a rock and fell to pieces. Anardan walked among the wreckage, muttering to himself, “Tyco. The best thing we can get out of this now is a good fire. We might as well stop now, we need to try to divide up these supplies.”
He nodded to the mound of leather-wrapped packages piled on the shattered sled.
“There’s a lot of it, we may have to leave some behind.”
The eight companions dragged the supplies and the remains of the sled under the cover of some nearby hemlocks, where Voolmark melted a patch of snow to build a fire.
“I still can’t believe I missed that rock.”
Bjarn picked up an axe and took apart the remains of the sled, tossing the undamaged boards to Anardan and giving the rest to Voolmark for the fire. Anardan picked up several planks, then settled down with a bag of tools and some rope to try to rebuild a smaller sledge. He cursed as the nail slipped through his clumsy leather glove, then finally took it off. Within half an hour, he pieced together a rough sled from the remains of the old one, then winced as the fire stung his frostbitten hands.
“Megablox, it’s cold out here. We’ll make one fully functional person together, Reno, you can’t use your foot and I can’t use my hands.”
Shainya and Reno tested out the sled, dragging it around the small circle of light made by the fire.
“It’s sturdy enough, but it’ll only hold about half of our stuff.”
The whole group looked toward the supply pile, now seeming much heavier then they had imagined it before. They would be facing heavy loads tomorrow unless they left some behind.
Ironically, the fellowship moved faster when they started out the next morning, for the tiny sled didn’t put up half as much as a fight as the larger, bulkier sled did. Also, Sir Dractor had used the remaining bits of wood and an unraveled blanket to construct eight pairs of snow shoes, so instead of plowing through the snow they simply walked on top of it. However, the walking in them took some time getting used to, and there were several hilarious moments when one person or another would fall face first when they tripped over their own feet.
They all had large packs strapped to their backs, even little Luxus, who bravely continued on despite sore legs and back. Reno had the lightest pack, for his ankle still ached painfully.
The entire day Bjarn, Reno, Aros, Luxus, Shainya, Voolmark, Sir Dractor and Anardan continued south, not talking, simply walking onward. There would be plenty of time to talk when they reached the Yellow Castle. Little did they know what dangers will still ahead.
Five days after the sled incident, the Fellowship Of The Pendants at last crossed the border into Classic LEGOland. They were all in high spirits. Their packs were lighter, and so was their step. They had just reached the peak of a steep hill when all megabloks broke loose. Or, more precisely, a chunk of snow did.
It started as a small tumble, but suddenly it became much more. Suddenly, there was no hill, there was simply a boiling, roiling mass of snow cascading downward. Bjarn and Sir Dractor went down first, the snow swallowing them up and tumbling them down. Reno, Aros, Luxus, Shainya, and Anardan all followed. Only Voolmark, using the Earth Magic, was able to keep himself from being swallowed.
The snow engulfed them. Anardan dropped his staff and struggled to keep his head above the snow, swimming with the flow as it thundered down the hill. The sled disappeared under a wall of snow, and the lead rope still attached to Anardan’s wrist pulled taught. Under the snow, the sled was hauled along by eddies and currents of boiling white snow, dragging Anardan and the others who had pulled the sled along, helpless to resist the pull. Anardan’s head struck a piece of wood, and he passed out.
Oof!
Bjarn’s lungs were punched free of air as the snow swallowed him. The old Forestmen could do nothing as the snow dragged him along, simply wait until the ride was over or until he ran out of air. Strangely, Bjarn felt no fear. Perhaps it was because he was so helpless, at the mercy of Mother Nature herself. In other situations, Bjarn could have at least done something. While Bjarn battled in the courtyard of the Eastern Knight’s Kingdomers fighting for his and his friends’ lives, he had been afraid. When he and Dale rushed like mad to carry Shainya to medical aid, Bjarn had been afraid. When Bjarn charged the Gates Of Orion with his Forestmen and other allies, he had been afraid.
Not now. Now, clutched in the relentless grip of the avalanche, Bjarn could not be afraid. He could only pray. Bjarn had never been a very religious man, and the only time he mentioned the gods was in a oath. But now, Bjarn prayed. Prayed for the lives of his friends and companions. Prayed for the lives over everyone else affected if the Fellowship of the Pendants failed. Lastly, Bjarn prayed for himself. Then he ran out of air, and knew no more.
“BJARN!”
Something slapped across Bjarn’s face. Hard. When Bjarn did not respond, the slap came again. The hand was about to slap a third time when Bjarn said loud and clear, “I prefer the splashing-water-on-face-to-wake-someone-else-technique.”
Sir Dractor, who had been the person slapping Bjarn, laughed.
“Then it’d freeze on you face, and you’re chilled enough.”
“Where are we?”
“If I am not mistaken, under what’s left of Anardan’s sled, which itself is under at least four feet of freshly-tumbled snow.” replied Sir Dractor simply.
Bjarn sat up and promptly hit head hard on a slab of board.
“Ouch!”
He rubbed his head and looked at Dractor.
“Where are the others?”
Dractor shook his head sadly.
“I don’t know.”
When the avalanche finally stopped, Anardan was covered to his neck in snow, and he couldn’t move at all. There was silence for several moments, before someone called out.
“Hello?”
It was Reno. His hat and staff were missing, and his entire form was covered with snow. He spotted Anardan, submerged in the drift, and quickly dug him out.
“Where are the others?”
“Don’t know.” Reno said, “But we can’t wait to find out.”
Anardan was suddenly jerked backwards. Taken off guard, he tumbled into the snow.
“You alright?”
Anardan looked at the sled lead rope, still wound around his wrist.
“Something pulled on the rope!”
There was another jerk, harder this time. Anardan pulled back, three times.
“Hello? Anyone down there?”
There was no answer.
“Someone must be caught in an air pocket. Come on, we’ve got to get them out before they run out of air!”
Reno picked up the board he had used to dig out Anardan, and followed him while he yanked the rope out of the snow until he was directly over where the sled should be buried. Reno begun digging furiously, but the snow kept sliding back to replace what he dug out.
“Shh!”
Reno halted his digging, and they could hear Sir Dractor’s muffled voice filtering up through the snow.
“Hello? Can anyone hear me?”
“Yes, Anardan and I are going to try to get you out!” replied Reno.
Anardan looked at the hole, no more than a depression in the snowdrift.
“They must be five feet down!” exclaimed Anardan, pulling on the lead rope.
“Listen, on three, you will push up on the bottom of the sled and we’ll pull,” called Anardan.
“Reno, grab the rope! One, two, THREE!”
Shainya screamed, and then promptly fainted, though she would deny it later. When she awoke, she was in the arms of not Reno, but Aros.
“Shainya!! Oh thank Chodan!” Aros promptly set her aside and continued, “Help me look for Luxus!”
They both began to dig about in the snow and suddenly Aros began frantically scrabbling at where a gloved hand protruded. With a cry Shainya jumped up and began to shift chuck of snow too. At last the blue face of Luxus was revealed, his eye closed, mouth and nostrils clogged with snow. They still could not pull him out of the snow, but Aros cleared Luxus’s nose and clawed the snow out from the little boy’s mouth, though he couldn’t know if there was snow still lodged in the throat.
Aros started to repeat, “Luxus, wake up, it’s your brother Aros, wake up…” while rubbing his face, the only body part visible, vigorously.
Shainya patted herself down frantically and pulled out a thermos, a simple mug with a seal that Voolmark charmed yesterday to keep the contents warm. She uncorked it and blinked at the steam hit her eyes. Then she moved over to Luxus, who had still not shown any sign of life, and poured some of the liquid down his throat. The drink scalded Luxus’s tongue, but effectively melted the snow clogging his throat and snapped him awake. He coughed frantically and spit out most of the liquid, but he was alive.
Aros shook tears from his eyes and said happily, “Hang on, lil buddy, we’ll get you out of there soon!”
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