The Ice Game

THE ICE GAME

We play it ever year when the season turns. It's a very dangerous
game.
We choose the player by spinning icicles in a special thing we have, a
shallow
metal bowl that came off an ancient, wheeled sledge. We fill the bowl
with
pounded snow and leave it overnight until it's glassy and smooth.
Spinning slivers of ice seems a fair enough way to choose, but if
the
spinner is really skilful, I'm sure he can fix it. Tor was quick with
his fingers
in those days and knew how to twist. I watched the clear dagger wind
down
and stop, throwing a moon-shadow point on the smooth surface.
'It's you Fria.' He didn't even bother to sound surprised. 'You're
the
lucky girl.' His dark face was creased up in a smile but his narrow
eyes were
black and cold. There and then, I vowed I'd never let him touch
me.
'Well, what do you say? Do you accept the challenge?' They were
all
watching. All my friends and one or two enemies. I couldn't back out
now.
We had to wait until the elders were busy. We'd been warned about
this
game so many times, and they were always angry when they caught us
doing
anything risky. There's strength in numbers and the tribe needs
strength to
survive. We'd be punished - set to chipping old metal out of the ice,
made to
work gloveless until our hands ached. Not for too long though. Never
too long
or the ice will bite back. You don't want hunters or skinners with too
many
fingers missing. Judging the exact moment is a speciality with our
people.
Which is what the Ice Game's all about.
That night was a special one. The Ice Witch was going to the Big
Fire
to tell fortunes in the flames. She's a frail old thing but everybody
gives her
respect because she remembers life before the weather changed. That
was
centuries ago of course, but somehow she remembers. They say she has
books
hidden in a cave somewhere.
When the moon was rising in the dark blue sky and our mothers
and
fathers were all singing memory-songs round the blazing fire, we crept
away. I
remember the look of the ice fields as we crunched over them, so wide
and
smooth and beautiful under the moon, with the grey tops of broken
towers
sticking up here and there. And I remember the coldness inside me, as
though
my heart had turned to frozen rock.
You have to do it naked. It's not just so the boys can gawp at
your
body: clothes cause dangerous ripples. And for the same reason, it's a
girls'
game: smooth curves, no appendages to wave about. The girls don't mind.
If
they win they have power and if they lose, well they have a boy to look
after
them and give them babies. Either way, they can tell their children
they took
one risk the men will never take.
Except me. I would rather die than lose.
I'm quite small and thick-set, but that's a beauty in our people, and
I
don't have any unsightly scars or black patches. That night as I
stripped off
my furs and let them drop into the snow I felt no shame. But then I
didn't feel
anything much, not even the cold. We'd chosen a still night of course,
and the
warmth of my skin stayed round me like a cloak for that last few
seconds as I
stepped up to the edge. But I doubt if I'd have noticed a
blizzard.
You have to be naked. You need to feel with every square millimetre
of
skin as you slide, very slowly, slowly into the icy water. Icy is the
exact word:
it describes the temperature, but also the state.
Water freezes when it gets cold enough. Any fool knows that. And
since the world became so cold, ice is part of everybody's life. But
there is an
exception to the rule. If water is absolutely still, with no vibration
at all, it can
reach a state where it is not quite ice. It's actually below freezing
point but it
doesn't realise.
There's a time at the turn of the season and a place not far from
our
village where that happens sometimes: a small black pool, hidden
away
among the rocks at the foot of the ice cliffs. We younger ones looked
upon it
as our special place, our secret. We always used it for the Ice
Game.
The game is a test of courage and endurance. If you can get right
into
the pool and squat down under the water without causing that fatal
ripple, and
if you can come out again in one piece, you've won. You're the
Ice-Queen.
You have the power. You can tell everybody else what to do. You can
choose
your mate, or choose to be alone. I knew all this, but I also knew
something
else.
No girl had won the game in an age. The last one who came
anywhere
near, she died. They chipped her from the pool in a sold block, frozen
right
through, blue as a seal. It was in my mother's day, fifteen years ago
at least.
After that, time after time, at the turn of the season, a girl would
be
chosen, but she'd either refuse the challenge or fail early. Either way
she'd
pay the forfeit. The boys looked forward to it. So did the girls, most
of the
time. But I was different. I had to win.
I walked to the edge of the pool and lowered my right foot
slowly,
smoothly, into the water. It shocked me, but I didn't flinch.
If you're going to fail, it's best to do it at the very beginning. If
you dip
a toe in and the pool freezes, everybody laughs at you, but it's no big
deal -
you just peel yourself out and laugh with them. Unless you're me. I'd
made up
my mind that if I failed I'd slit my throat with a
skinning-knife.
I slid, inch by inch, into the freezing black water, like a knife
slipping
under a fish skin. I swear I could see it, that skin, rainbow scales
glinting in
the moonlight. The pool wasn't water at all, it was something else, a
fearful
creature, waiting to eat me up.
No! Don't think like that. Pretend it's a warm black fur. Let
yourself
sink down into it. Down, and down, and down. Too cold to think now,
too
cold to feel, ice spreading in my veins, seeping into my brain, shaping
my
thoughts.
I breathed in, very gently, trying not to move my ribcage,
expanding
my lungs sideways to take in the cold air. I bent my knees slowly,
slowly,
until I was crouching, face half covered by the freezing water. If I
raised my
eyes, I could see stars scattered like ice-crystals in the dark blue
sky. If I
looked straight ahead, I could see my friends and enemies, lined up on
the
edge watching me, but they seemed miles away.
At last the light disappeared and I was under.
And then it started.
You don't know until you do it. You think it's just endurance,
going
into freezing water, trying to stay alive. But it's not just that: as
you become
one with the water, totally immersed, what wonderful dreams come to
haunt
you. Ice dreams, gleaming white spires and towers, crystallised in the
folds of
your brain, memories of buildings you never saw which were lost and
buried
hundreds of years ago. Not just buildings either, animals, white whales
and
bears and wolves, all streaking across your mind, all begging you to
join them.
'Stay with us,' they say, 'Run with us. We'll play together in the ice
fields.
We'll fly among the cold stars, forever and ever and ever and?.'
As I said, timing's the thing. The ice castles turned from white, to
red,
to black. The animals faded and died. I knew my breath was going. Time
to
move. Time to live again. I didn't really want to. The only thing that
led me
out was his face, grinning in my mind, and what he'd say if I
failed.
Slowly, fighting my own breath, in agony now, I straightened my
aching body, up and up, straining all my senses to find the surface.
Mustn't
shatter it, or I'll die. Have to slip through as smooth as a
snowflake.
A flash of panic. Where was the world? Why wasn't I there yet?
Had
my whole body shrunk, shrivelled to a pebble by the cold? Was I a tiny
ice-
creature at the bottom of a deep ocean, with no way back? Then I saw
the
moon's round face smiling at me through the water. And I knew I was
home.
Still forcing my body to be slow, desperate not to fail at the very
last
second, I eased myself up through the black mirror, felt friendly
hands
stretched out to reach me, their warmth still inches away. Now I could
see the
faces, dark and smiling, fur hoods sprinkled with ice crystals.
Tor's face was not among them. He knew he was defeated. He'd
slunk
away somewhere. I had won!
I was the Ice-Queen, the snow maiden. I had the power. I grinned,
and
felt tingling on my face where the frozen water cracked. Happiness
surged
through me like heat. I calmed myself, ready to take the last
step.
Somebody threw a stone into the pool.
I didn't hear it: I felt a vibration, like the earthquakes that come
in the
Spring. It might have been an earth tremor, shaking the rocks
nearby,
dislodging loose pebbles. But I knew it was him.
I leapt like a seal and the water caught me, changing as it
touched,
becoming solid and smooth and hard as steel. Most of me was out,
iceberg in
reverse, one trailing foot still under. It brought me down with a crack
and I lay
on the frozen surface like a landed fish, quivering and broken. I could
see him,
standing on the edge, his white teeth bared in a grin. He had me in his
grip. I
was his now. I felt his cold eyes skinning my flesh from me. But there
was someone else watching.
'Tor Homun!' The voice of the Ice Witch rang out through the clear
air.
It sounded like tinkling icicles. Everyone turned to look. Lying with
my cheek
against the burning ice, I could just make out the frail figure in the
distance,
across the white plain. And there were other shapes black and solid:
the elders
were with her.
'Tor Homun, I saw you throw the stone. You tried to harm one of
the
people, to sap the strength of the tribe. You must pay.'
Later I found out the truth. They say it's forbidden, but they watch
us.
They sit by the fire and the old woman tells them how it's going. She
sees it
all in the flames. She tells them who's gone into the pool and whether
there's
trouble. It's a risk: they've lost children before. But they also find
out who
has the courage and the skill the tribe needs. And that person is
marked out.
That's how a girl gets to be the Ice Queen. And the Ice Queen becomes
the Ice
Witch. That's what I'll be, when she's taught me the centuries of
secrets the
ice has whispered to her.
They cut me free and wrapped me in my furs and carried me back to
the
village, singing all the way. They took Tor back too, but there were no
songs
for him.
My broken ankle's almost as good as new. The old woman bathed it
for me and put special ointment on, which kept the black patches away.
I can't
run any more, but I don't need to.
I am the Ice Queen. I will learn wisdom from the old woman, and
later,
when I am old, I will tell stories to the tribe. Tor is mine now. I can
do what I
like with him. In our tribe we don't kill unless we have to. We need
the
muscle. I send him to catch fish for me, and build ice-houses and dig
metal.
Sometimes I let him wear the seal-skin gloves. I don't want him to lose
too
many fingers.
It's a dangerous game.

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