Chapter Text
Jago’s long stride covered the ten-mile distance to the palace in an instant. They came out of a region of low hills of rock that gradually became more and more ice-covered. The hills fell away to reveal a magnificent castle of ice, with tall spires and rows of arched parapets. The structure backed up onto a large glacier, a wall of ice defending the castle from the back. Starlight and moonlight glittered off the smooth surfaces, reflecting and deflecting the minimal light from the Arctic night in a dizzying array.
“It’s too dark to see any bushes,” Ray fretted, unwilling to take Jago too close to the castle and endanger him.
“I can find it,” Jago said. “Cloud berries are a favorite delicacy among the hoofed creatures.”
Ray patted his neck and the caribou stepped forward, planting his hooves carefully and twitching his nostrils. After a few moments, Jago halted at the base of a ramp of ice. Ray saw a blurry, indistinct shape at the bottom, something that was not hard and shiny like the rest of the ice – a shrub with fat, round berries still clinging to its spindly branches.
Sliding from Jago’s back, Ray found the cloud berry bush to be nearly his height. He plucked them carefully with his mittens on and put them in the pockets of his parka.
“Take as many as you can carry,” Torngasuk advised.
Ray nodded, pulling the plain shawl that he had been using as a saddle down from the caribou. He spread it out on the ground, and then tied the corners, fashioning it into a rucksack.
“I’m not going to take them all,” he said, thinking that Jago and Torngasuk might need a meal before he got back.
When he was satisfied, with his haul, Ray said, “Okay, this is it then. Don’t try to follow me.”
Jago snorted, “I am not a silly wolf. I will wait for you here.”
“Thank you,” Ray said. He turned to the raven. “Torngasuk . . .”
“I will tarry here while you carry your quest to the end,” the raven replied.
Ray nodded, and then turned to face the icy ramp. He put his foot down carefully, and then shifted his weight, not wanting his feet to fly out from under him. He was afraid that if he lost traction, he would fruitlessly continue to try to get up the ramp and get nowhere. However, the thicker leather of the sealskin boots provided an admirable grip on the slick surface. Still, he kept his pace slow, stopping frequently to look for the air jets that the Inuit woman had warned him about.
When he was more than halfway up the slope, Ray encountered the first blast of icy air. It shot into the sky about ten feet in front of him, but he could feel how cold the stream was. He waited for it to fall back to the ground and then tossed a cloud berry as he had been instructed. The berry lodged in a small divot caused the jet and held there. Ray refused to speculate about how something so small as the berry was able to hold back the fountain of air. He had to trust whatever magic lay in the berries.
Soon, Ray reached the gate to the palace, which was not locked, but guarded by another stream of air. He tossed a berry and the way was clear. He found himself in a long hallway, but he didn’t let his guard down, still wary of the icy jets. He found that there was a slight, very tiny, gurgling before the air launched upwards, and he bent his ear, listening carefully as he moved slowly through the hallway. The walls made a ringing sound as though the ice were vibrating, an on-going noise that he tuned out trying to listen for the jets. Above him, crystals of ice grew down from the ceiling, making him fearful that one of them might come loose and impale him. He wanted to run away from the potential threat, but forced himself to go slowly in the face of the actual threat from the icy air.
The corridor disgorged him into a circular room lined with colonnades and doors along the perimeter, that was open to the sky. He peered at each door and then decided the one directly opposite his position was the most likely to lead to the Winter Queen’s throne room. The castle walls swooped upwards over the doorway and there was a tower atop the structure. He couldn’t decide whether he would try to cross the open space or keep to the sides and walk the edge of the circle. He waited to see what would happen, but the whole space seemed quiet. Concluding that the straight line was the best option, Ray set foot into the open courtyard. Immediately, gouts of gelid air shot out of the floor.
Ray stepped back and pondered, finally deciding that his original plan was the best, especially if he had Ben with him on the way back. He didn’t know what shape Ben was in after all the months in this frigid place, and the shortest distance seemed best. He stepped out again, waited, and then tossed a berry.
His progress was painfully slow, and he fought the urge to hurry – with his goal slow close, every delay was agonizing. But he at last reached the room on the other side. This room was closed by doors of glass that looked like blue ice. Ray couldn’t see inside, but he was certain that the space beyond was the throne room. The doors had no handle that he could see and his mittened hands couldn’t get purchase on the surface, but he pushed against one side and the door gave a little bit. He could see that the doors were latched somehow in the middle of the frame.
But then Ray remembered that he had the handgun that Raymond had given him. He reached into the inner pockets of his parka, pulled out the pistol, and stood to the side to aim at the latch. He pulled the trigger, hitting the door and shattering the ice. Ray nudged the shards of the ruined door to the side with his boot and stepped over the threshold into the throne room.
More crystals of ice dripped from the ceiling and the ringing noise grew louder in the large room. On a raised platform at the other end of the room was a throne, made of ice, shiny and slick and cold. But at the base of the dais, there was a dark, huddled shape.
“Ben.”
Ray put the gun away, and tried to concentrate to hear anymore of the icy jets of air, but could not discern any sign of them. He hurried forward, because it was indeed Ben – wearing the same clothes that he had been the night he left for the bar all those months ago. His feet were bare, and a manacle circled one ankle, the chain leading up to the throne and fastened to a loop on the side of the chair.
Ray knelt beside him and picked his chin up. Blue eyes full of sadness and despair stared back at him. Ray felt his own eyes welling up in response. Ben was a shadow of his normal self, small and bedraggled.
The man blinked slowly.
“Ray?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Ray scrubbed tears away from his cheeks. They were freezing on his skin.
“So cold,” Ben muttered, shaking.
Ray pulled his parka off and wrapped it around Ben’s shoulders. Ben clutched at the fur and gathered it close around him.
“You’re here,” Ben said, wonder in his tone.
“Yeah, I had to find you,” Ray replied. “She took you . . .”
“She kissed me and I froze.”
“Let’s just get you loose.”
“She said I could go free if I solved her puzzle. But my brain is frozen.”
“That’s bullshit,” Ray replied.
He pulled out the gun again, mentally thanking Prince Raymond for his forethought, and aimed it at the chain securing Ben’s leg to the throne. The bullet hit the chain, severing the link, but skidding off the icy surface of the floor and ricocheting around the room. Ray threw himself over Ben, shielding him until the missile lost momentum and clattered to a stop.
“Okay, let’s go.”
“I can’t. I haven’t solved the puzzle.”
Ray scrubbed his hands through his hair. He could feel the cold creeping into him, slowing his thoughts. He had to get Ben out before it was too late. He touched the vial of antidote against the inner pocket of his shirt. He’d hoped to get free of the palace and get Ben into a better frame of mind before broaching the topic of the drug. But now, he thought he might be out of time anyway.
He crouched in front of his partner. “Ben – remember the case we working on? About the troll glass? The drug?”
Ben looked at him, blue eyes hazy with ice. “I think so.”
“Good, good. Yeah. You got hit with the drug, into your eyes.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. And if you remember, the drug removes your emotions. All your emotions.”
Ben nodded. Ray wasn’t going to bring up the rest, the terrible days just before Ben disappeared.
Ray patted the tiny glass container against his heart. “I’ve got the antidote. If you take it, it will counteract the effects of the troll glass. You’ll be back the way you were before.”
“I will?”
“Do you remember how you felt before? Before you met her, before you came here?”
“I . . .yes.”
“Do you want to take the antidote?”
Ben didn’t reply, staring at the shards of ice at his feet.
“Look. You don’t have to come with me,” Ray said, wiping away more tears. “I just want you to be okay. If you want to stay with her . . . well, I won’t be happy about it, but I just want you to decide for yourself. Not ‘cause of me and not ‘cause of her.”
While Ben gazed at the floor and huddled into the parka, Ray forced himself to stillness, forcing his shaking muscles to unclench. He cast his mind back to the quest for Sir John Franklin, how cold it had been then, but he also had the warmth of Ben next to him through the whole journey. And then their life together in Chicago once they returned; once Ben decided to come back with him.
“I’ll take it, Ray,” Ben whispered.
Ray took the vial out of his inner pocket and eased the stopper loose. He held it out to Ben. “Just drink it down.”
Ben nodded, his hands shaking with cold as he removed the stopper and held the tiny glass container to his lips. He tilted his head back, and let the liquid flow across his tongue and down his throat. It tasted vaguely of honey. He slumped, nestling into the parka. Ray wrapped his arms around Ben, going with him to the floor, and trying to ignore the cold seeping into his pants. He hoped with everything he had that the antidote worked as quickly as the troll glass did.
After a while, he felt the man in his arms stir and sit up straighter. “Ben?”
Icy cold hands grabbed his face but the mouth covering his was pure human warmth. Ray sank into the kiss, the familiarity of it, the feeling of belonging that he always felt when he was kissing Ben. The kiss turned dirty, threatening to turn in a decidedly not family-friendly direction, but Ray remembered where they were and that any intimacy might actually kill them under the circumstances.
He pulled away reluctantly. “Hold that thought,” Ray murmured.
“It’s held, Ray.”
“Then let’s blow this popsicle stand,” Ray exclaimed, taking his mittens off and pulling them over Ben’s bare feet, before helping him to stand.
“Wait! The puzzle,” Ben protested.
“Ben! Nothing’s stopping you from walking out of here.”
“If I solve it, then she has no excuse to come after us. That is the nature of bargains with the supernatural.”
Ray wasn’t in the mood to argue whether or not the woman who had imprisoned Ben was some sort of fae or otherwise. He’d seen too much on his journey to doubt that she was not entirely of the world as he knew it.
“What is the word?”
“I don’t know. Maybe any word?”
Ray stared at the shards of ice and let his eyes drift into un-seeing. He bent to the floor, hands moving quickly to rearrange the shards into crude letters spelling out the word ‘eternity’.
“Good enough?”
“Yes, Ray, that should satisfy the bargain.”
Ray grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him out the way he came in. He kept a few of the cloud berries in his hand, just in case they ran into any more gouts of super-cooled air. They made it safely back to the cloud berry bush where Ray had left the caribou. This time, the caribou had been joined by another.
“This is my brother, Panuk,” Jago said. “You have agreed to free me, therefore, he came when I called to aid you.”
“Ben, meet Jago and Torngasuk.” Ray pointed to his friends. “I wouldn’t have made it here without them.”
“Very pleased to meet you,” Ben replied. If he had a hat, he would have tipped it.
Before they got going, Ray insisted that Ben eat some of the cloud berries. He didn’t know how Ben had survived in the icy palace, but supposed that something about the Winter Queen’s kiss had put Ben into stasis of some sort, where he didn’t need food or drink. Possibly. Ray was very sick of dealing with the supernatural at that point and just wanted to get back to Chicago where things were a rational sort of crazy. They were free of the palace and the danger of the icy blasts, so he pushed the berries on Ben.
Then he helped Ben up onto Panuk’s back, and they set off back towards the Inuit woman’s dwelling. But before they had gone more than two miles to the west, they were greeted by Diefenbaker, who pranced and woofed at Ben. Ray hoped that the woman had released him and not that the wolf had evaded her.
“Okay, I don’t know where to go from here,” he said as they rested. “I have no idea where we are either.”
He looked at Ben, hoping the Mountie’s impeccable instincts for finding his way in the trackless Arctic would kick in. But Ben looked around and then shook his head.
“I don’t know either.”
“Should we just turn south and see what we can find?” Ray asked.
Ben gestured to Torngasuk. “Can the raven scout ahead?”
“Sure,” Ray replied. “What is he looking for?”
“Any town big enough to have an airstrip,” Ben said.
“I hate to tell you this, but we’ve got no money and no passports.”
“If it has an airport, it should have a RCMP depot. We can get help from there.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ray nodded and then turned to the raven. “Can you find the closest airstrip?”
“I should have no trouble finding a place for the flying machines,” Torngasuk answered.
“Yeah, well stay away from the flying machines,” Ray growled. “You’d lose.”
While the raven was gone, they rested. Ray was itching to turn south, but didn’t want to go too far off the path if the nearest town was in a different direction. He rooted through the pockets in his parka and found a small amount of pemmican leftover. He and Ben split the morsel. Ben was withdrawn, closed in on himself, conserving his strength. Ray wrapped the plaid shawl around himself, trying to find the optimum way to keep himself warm.
Torngasuk came back a few hours later with a report of a sizable town two days ride to the south. They clambered onto the caribou and set off with the raven sailing ahead of them to show them the way. At night, Ray curled up with Ben, feeling something inside him finally settle, after so many months they had spent apart.
One morning, they crested a hill and saw a good-sized town lying below them, a mere handful of miles away. Ray slid down from Jago’s back and helped Ben down from Panuk. Dief leaned against Ben’s legs, offering warmth and comfort.
Ray turned to Jago, and hunted for a clasp to the halter that the caribou still wore. He found a buckle on the strap that passed under his antlers and behind his ears. Ray unlatched it and then pulled it off. Ray wanted to toss the hateful thing away on the tundra, but decided to find a trash can for it once they reached the town.
He stroked Jago’s soft nose. “You can go, buddy. I set you free. I can’t thank you enough. For everything.”
Jago nudged his chest, blowing a gust of warm air over Ray’s face. “May you always step easy, Ray Kowalski.”
Ray nodded, blinking his eyes to keep the moisture a bay. “I’m gonna miss you.”
He swiped his arm across his eyes and then turned to the raven. “Torngasuk. I have no words. I owe you my life, and Ben’s life too. I’m gonna miss you the most.”
“May the wind under your wings always bear you home,” Torngasuk replied.
Ray smiled. “Go find Ataksak. I’m sure she’s wondering where you are.”
The two caribou wheeled and then galloped away. Torngusuk launched himself into the air, heading west. Ray refused to watch his friends leave, convinced that one day, he might see them again.
With Diefenbaker leading the way, they made their slow way the last miles to the town. Ben found the RCMP depot and told his highly edited story. Luckily, their previous adventures had ensured that almost all the Mounties in Canada knew who they were.
Phone calls were made to the consulates in both countries, and the young Mountie finally returned to where they were sitting in the hard chairs in the waiting room.
“We can’t whistle up your documents, I’m afraid, sir. But we can get you a transport to Chicago on a private flight. You’ll be given temporary papers to let you into the States.”
“What about Diefenbaker?” Ben asked.
“As he is a pet,” the constable said. “America has relaxed the entry rules – he’s been in Canada the last few months, and Canada is on the low-risk list. He can enter without delay.”
“Wonderful,” Ben sighed. “Thank you kindly.”
“You think you could get him some clothes?” Ray asked, pointing his thumb at Ben. “And a bath?”
“Certainly. The cargo plane won’t arrive until tomorrow. We will see to your accommodations.”
The constable led them to a rooming house down the street and paid the proprietress. She showed them to a cozy room on the first floor and gave them the keys to the bathroom. Another constable showed up with a change of clothes including boots and a coat for Ben. Ray took the Inuit parka back – he had gotten used to the way it fit him. Ray went first in the bathroom, taking a quick shower, but washing thoroughly. He was happy he had been mostly too cold to smell himself in the last few weeks of the journey. Ben went next, and when he came back into the room, he seemed more himself – his step was more confident and his head was up.
They had a thick stew for dinner, which Ray hoped wasn’t caribou, but he didn’t ask. Ben ate with his usual appetite, another sign that he was recovering. They curled under the piled quilts, just holding each other and not saying too much. Ray was too tired to talk. The fine-tuned tension that had kept him going for so long gradually ebbed away. He thought he might want to sleep for a month.
The next morning, they boarded a private cargo plane that would take them to Chicago’s executive airport after a stop in Toronto for refueling. Ray watched out the window as the vast expanse of Canada passed beneath them, on the lookout for a wide valley with a colorful tumble of buildings at the center. He couldn’t find anything but he supposed that whatever protected the Queen of Endless Summer from hikers probably also shielded her from curious eyes in the air.
At long last they landed in Chicago on a private airfield. They walked across the tarmac with Dief on a leash to keep up the pretense that he was a pet and could enter without restrictions. They showed the temporary documents they had received from the RCMP to the USCIS agent at the desk, who waved them through.
They walked outside to find themselves in a Chicago winter with the wind howling off the lake. But Frannie was there and she hugged them until neither of them could breathe.
“You idiots,” she scolded, herding them towards her car.
They didn’t complain, just settled into the seats, while she pulled into the traffic on the expressway.
“Ma wants you to come over tomorrow. You don’t have to be there for presents, but maybe you want to eat?”
“Presents? Frannie,” Ray said. “What day is it?”
She gave him a look and then turned back to the road. “Why are you always asking that? It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Geez, I didn’t get you anything,” Ray joked.
He dodged the punch that she aimed at his arm.
Soon enough, she pulled up outside their house. She handed Ray the keys that he had entrusted to her when he first headed north.
“Thank you,” Ray whispered, holding her tightly. He was so glad to see her that he didn’t want to let her go. But if he knew Ben, he knew that his lover would need time before he was ready to face anyone. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“You do that.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “Merry Christmas!”
They made their way up the walk to the stoop which had been swept clean of snow. The door yielded to the key, and they stepped inside their home. The heater was on, filling the house with warmth. Ray discovered fresh groceries in the fridge and said another silent thanks to Frannie.
They had dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, possibly the best thing either of them had tasted in their recent memory. They poured glasses of milk, and took their meal into the living room where Ben turned on the gas log.
While the humans ate, Diefenbaker flopped down his cushion in front of the fireplace. He was relieved to be back in Chicago – he was getting old and the cold settled into his bones in a way that it hadn’t when he was younger. He had just traveled thousands of miles to help his packmates and his paws were tired. He hoped the humans would stay out of trouble for a while and give him a chance to rest.
After dinner, Ray got another shower, taking his time and letting the hot water run over him until his fingers were prunes. However, he was careful not to run the hot water out. Ben stepped into the shower once Ray was finished. Ray left the bathroom, giving Ben his privacy. They had been through many ordeals separately, and they needed to meld their lives back together, but it would take time. Ray pulled a pair of soft flannel pants out of his dresser and topped them with a worn T-shirt.
Ben exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, nodded to Ray, and then attired himself in a set of red pajamas. He looked so stunning in red that Ray’s breath caught, memories of how he had lost the color red making him weak with relief that they had survived.
Together they made up their bed with clean sheets that nevertheless retained a faint whiff of their combined scent. They piled blankets on, probably more than they really needed, but both of them seemed unwilling to feel any bit of cold. Ray plumped up the pillows, squirming around until he could comfortably face Ben laying on his side of the bed.
Ben touched Ray’s jaw, careful fingers moving along his cheeks. “We have been through the fire, you and I.”
“Mmm,” Ray agrees.
“But we have come out stronger,” Ben insisted. “Annealed.”
They moved closer together, the attraction that has always existed between them despite their conflicts and confusion manifesting as a physical pull that neither can resist. The force of gravity that kept them orbiting around each other, their bodies moving in a dance nearly as ancient as the wandering planets, but just as stately.
Afterwards, they rested together, still entwined, but neither able to find sleep just yet. Ray told Ben all of his adventures, starting with the mechanic. Ben was an attentive listener, asking questions at the right time and giving Ray space to explain everything, his decisions, the actions he would have taken if he was forced to, trials he would have endured to find Ben and rescue him.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” Ray exclaimed, hopping out of bed and grabbing the pants that he had dumped on the floor.
He rooted around in the pockets and finally pulled out a scrap of paper that had been folded multiple times. He sat on the bed and handed it to Ben.
“What’s this?” Ben asked as he unfolded it.
“The coordinates to Estelle and Raymond’s place,” Ray explained.
“I see. Do you want to go back there?”
“No. I belong with you. I only considered going back to them because I thought you might not want to come back.”
Ben held the paper out. “Then what do you want to do?”
Ray took the paper between his fingers. “I wouldn’t want this to get in the wrong hands. I think I’m gonna burn it.”
He stood up and picked up some matches from the nightstand, and then walked into the bathroom. He struck a match and then lit the corner of the scrap of paper. When it was burning, he dropped it into the sink. He watched until the paper and its contents were consumed by the flame. He thought about the Queen of Endless Summer and her prince, and hoped that they both were thriving.
Back in bed, Ray snuggled into Ben’s arms and their minds finally quieted enough for them to find their rest.
In the morning, they woke to a fresh blanket of white outside their window. They thought about staying in bed all day, but Dief insisted that they have breakfast. As they walked down the stairs, Ray noticed an extraordinary sight in the driveway. He rushed to the side door, still in his pajamas and socks, and threw the door open.
“It’s the Goat,” he shouted, dashing outside.
The GTO sat in the driveway, a light dusting of snow covering it, but the paint was shiny and black, and the car was pristinely clean. Ray went to the driver’s door and found it unlocked. He slid into the seat and found the keys resting beside the gear shift. The interior of the car was in as perfect a condition as the outside. Even the rip in the passenger seat had been repaired. He got back out and walked around the car, inspecting it. He unlocked the trunk and found that all his possessions were neatly stored in a box, including his wallet.
Ray shook his head in amazement. He had no idea how the old mechanic had managed to get the car back, and get it there the exact day they returned. However it had happened, he was grateful. He whispered a soft ‘thanks’ to the northern sky.
Ben walked outside, sensibly wearing a coat and boots. Ray grabbed him and twirled him.
“I got my car back!”
Ben hugged him. “I think you should put it in the garage.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. We need to eat, and then we have some business to attend to. In bed.”
Ray laughed, slid back into the GTO and started the engine, which sprang to life immediately, purring smoothly. Ray found that the garage door opener was still attached to the sun visor, so he opened the door and parked carefully.
He gave the car a pat on the way out of the garage, and then joined Ben on the stoop. They went into the house arm-in-arm to celebrate the season and their return, and finding each other again – in their own special way.