A Cruel and Burning Ice, Page 2

  Chapter 2 – A Queen Carved from Ice...

  "She's gorgeous." Easy Eric whistled as he regarded the glistening statue standing in the workshop's center.

  Even Prudent Pauline could not resist staring at the curves of that form chiseled for the tinker and his king to commemorate the start of another Envy Burn. "She's too beautiful for mankind's eyes. They don't have a chance of preventing her from melting."

  Flighty Fiona sneered. "That would serve them right. They'll ruin their entire kingdom if they let the tinker's statue melt."

  "I'm afraid you're right, Pauline," tears glistened Eric's eyes. "They don't even know the true story of the Kahl-Queens. Most haven't even heard of Kahl-Queen Aura. They have no idea why the second sun rises."

  "You think the statue will remind them of the truth?" Pauline asked.

  "No," Fiona quipped, "but it's still beautiful."

  Fay bustled about the statue that stretched several stories to scrape at the workshop's high ceiling. Though the second sun lifted outside, the breath of the Fay frosted in the cool that emanated from the most recent creation they achieved with the tinker. With gloved, small fingers and fine chisels, they refined the details of each glistening eye, the shape of each curve.

  The tinker's workshop bustled with excitement. The Fay had worked with so many tinkers throughout the years, and none of those fine crafters recalled a piece for which they felt more pride. None of the past tinker efforts could compare with the statue of their lost Kahl-Queen - not Tinker Henderson's great roadway, not Tinker Rena's great foundation stones. No tinker was closer to the Fay's hearts than Tinker Kohl, who listened to every story the Fay had to tell him, who asked so many questions regarding the Fay's subterranean home during the Envy Burn. They couldn't resist thinking of Markus Kohl as a brother no matter that he was only a man.

  And looking upon that tall statue that glistened before them, turning the workshop so cool no matter the outside heat, all those Fay held their breath and prayed that such carved ice would be enough to make their Tinker friend smile.

  The king could be damned as far as the Fay were concerned.

  "Everyone to the line!"

  Mad Phillips's voice thundered through the workshop, amplified through one of the tinker's loud tongue trumpets.

  "Tinker Kohl enters the shop!"

  The Fay quickly formed into lines with a discipline they would show to no other man than their favorite tinker.

  Markus Kohl stooped through an archway and smiled upon his workshop. Mad Phillip snapped his fingers, and an orchestra of music boxes chimed a celebration song for the tinker who prepared to offer their project a final examination before it would be presented to man's king.

  "It's more incredible than I could have imagined," Markus marveled as ice stretched into his beard. He paced slowly around the tall statue, admiring the fine craftsmanship that captured an invisible wind for the way the figure's hair and robes billowed. "I will never know if any of you Fay truly understands the power of your magic. Men never achieve the potential of any of their dreams, and yet you Fay so easily surpass anything we can imagine."

  Mad Phillip's eyes beamed. "So you like it, boss-man?"

  "I love it."

  Markus slapped his foreman's shoulder and sent Mad Phillip sprawling into a chest of tools. Instantly, the Fay broke the discipline of their lines and danced throughout the chamber, whistling and cheering as they embraced one another.

  Markus cleared his throat. "But it doesn't matter what I think. What matters is what the king thinks."

  The Fay disengaged from their embraces and frowned.

  "Was she really that beautiful?" Markus asked after circling the statue another time.

  "Aye, boss-man, she was," Phillip answered. "More beautiful than any of us would dare dream to capture. No matter any of our talent, tools or magic."

  The Fay bowed their heads.

  Markus extended a hand towards the glistening statue's body of ice before remembering the jeopardy he would hazard with only a simple touch. No man but Markus Kohl knew the danger of that statue, and yet he still felt the temptation to touch it.

  "She was truly the third Kahl-Queen?"

  "Aye, boss-man, she was." Phillip nodded.

  He had approved every step of design and construction, and still, Markus could hardly believe it. What trick of light had the Fay captured so that the statue's hair appeared silver like the locks of the Fay? How had the Fay so crafted the ice queen's eyes so that they seemed to follow him about the workshop? How had they shaped ice so craftily that Markus would've sworn warm blood pulsed just below the statue's surface?

  He was the tinker, and the Fay had informed him of every step taken in the production of that glistening statue of a forgotten queen. The Fay had told him they would bring a block of that ice up from the treasure troves they had hidden deepest in the earth. The Fay had told him of the danger that lurked at the heart of that ice that would emanate such cool no matter the second sun. They told him the risk they took by throwing Fay magic into the mix. Throughout, Markus had believed himself the objective tinker. But he no longer gave himself such credit. For though he knew better, he could hardly resist the urge to throw his arms about the feminine form chiseled from the ice.

  Mad Phillip rested a hand on Markus's shoulder. "Careful, boss-man. She's humming with power now."

  Marcus ripped his gaze away from the statue's graceful curves. "Does that fuel burn in her heart?"

  "Aye, boss-man."

  Markus nodded. "So there's no turning back now. Regardless if the kingdom can handle her, we've crafted her for the king and all his realm."

  Splinters of worry tore at what remained of Markus's intestines. Did he really believe a benevolent motivation, a desire to provide his king with cool no matter if the second sun rose into the sky, moved him to accept the Fay's proposition for their final project before retreating into the ground? He wondered. He feared that perhaps a more malignant desire tempted him to help create that statue that now stretched in his workshop. How much longer could he trick himself into believing that someone, anyone, other than himself or the Fay could maintain that ice so that the terrible, deadly power did not seep from the statue's heart to lay ruin to village and realm? Did he harbor a wish to see that world destroyed for which he had spent a lifetime to maintain? And why not? What affection had that world shown to the lowly tinker? What kindness was ever extended to his Fay friends? The Fay would not remain in that realm to suffer any of the consequences. Nor did Markus harbor any plans to linger himself. Yet had something snapped so terribly within him to casually offer king and man the means of their own destruction?

  "You alright, boss-man?" Mad Phillip tapped Markus's shoulder. "You look pale."

  Markus gripped his friend's arm. "I'm fine. You Fay must learn to forgive the drifting minds of old men. Break out the good drink and break the best bread. But most of all, my fine Fay friends, sing to this old tinker one more time of that third Kahl-Queen who you have so magically captured in this ice. Tell me one more time the Fay story of the Envy Burn."

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