Chapter 27- Close Enough to Taste, Far Enough to Kill

“Have we entered Hell?” Tian wasn’t sure who spoke for a moment, then realized it was him.

Shimmering gems of ice condensed over a lake nearly a mile in diameter, before sublimating from the extreme cold. The ice sheet was clear to the point of near-invisibility, brilliant under the sun. The whole of it looked as though it was on fire. It wasn’t the sun’s light reflecting on the surface. It was the burning stone tree at the center.

Rising from a stone island at the center of the lake was an enormous tree. The thick black trunk quickly split into many sections, reaching upwards like fingers that then divided again and again before spreading into thin, nobbly branches. There should have been a heavenly fragrance- the tree bore both blossoms and fruit, but there was only a smell of burning stone. The blossoms, five lobed flowers with sprays of golden pistils, were made of static flames, and the fruit, plump and round, made the air shimmer like water with their heat.

“A plum tree, I think. Some kind of overfed, petrified, hell-plum.” Lin murmured.

Su flicked a stone onto the ice. Rather than gliding, it came to a quick stop, and frosted over. They watched it for a few minutes longer. The rock began to flake, shedding layers and quickly looking corroded. In a quarter hour, it was a little heap of gravel. In twenty minutes, it was dust.

“Remind me how long it’s been since anyone harvested the ice here?” Liren asked.

“It’s an interesting question. The mountain never goes uninhabited, but there is not always a clear ruler. There were, I believe, three sects based on the mountain that were consolidated into the Ancient Crane Monastery when the Ancient Crane rested here. The history is unacceptably vague, and there is even less about the sects that existed on the mountain before them.” Su shook her head at the messiness of it all.

“Presumably someone entered the trial grounds between when the Eight Directions Palace fell and now.” Wang stroked his chin. “Though it is entirely possible that they just never got this far. Or if they did, they failed and died here.”

Tian pulled out one of his herbology manuals and quickly checked his memory. “Plums need freezing temperatures to properly grow. Perhaps stone plums need it to freeze even harder. Likewise, the only way I can think of for ice to gain layers is if it freezes, partially melts, freezes again, and so on. A heat source is needed. I am suddenly very curious about what exactly this forest is.”

That got a round of silent nods.

“Anyone have any good ideas?” Lin asked.

That got a round of silent shakes.

After another long pause, silence, Brother Wang scratched his chin and said “What about quarrying the ice away? We start from the closest edge and work our way inward. It would take a long time, but we aren’t in any particular rush and we will be harvesting valuable goods as we go. I’m sure that we could find a use for powerfully yin ice, even if it’s only to sell it.”

Liren nodded firmly. “Excellent idea. Here, use this pick axe and try it out.” She pushed the pick axe into his hand, and prodded him towards the lake.

“I really don’t think-” he started to say, but was quickly overruled.

“You can do it, Brother.” Lin encouraged.

“Yes. Bring back useful information, Husband.” Su also ‘encouraged.’

“Think of it as training before you are sent to the lead mines.” Tian also helped.

“I’m remembering this, you swine.” The big man grumbled and made his way to the edge of the lake.

“Cold. Very cold. Not unbearable, but even here on the shore, I think I would freeze in a few hours.”

“Good. It means you won’t sweat as much.” Liren added to the encouragement.

Brother Wang groaned, doubtless with gratitude for the unstinting support of his sect siblings, and brought the pick axe around in a sharp arc. There was a glassy clack followed by a metallic chime and then a considerably less melodious thud.

“Ah. Sorry, Sister Hong, I seem to have ruined your pickaxe.” The head had broken in three places, and the handle was shattered. “Ruined” was a fair description.

There was a few moments silence as they examined the destruction.

“I’ve been trying to come up with something about how this is the ancestral pick axe of the Hong Clan, and I’m struggling to say something sensible. Just assume I’ve effectively guilted you into handing over your purse.”

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Liren pulled out a stick from her storage ring. It didn’t freeze when it was over the ice, but it did freeze seconds after it touched the surface. The wood was practically evaporating in front of their eyes. A light tap against the ruined handle saw puffs of desiccated wood flying off in the light breeze.

“No problem. Here.” Brother Wang handed over a very thin purse of soiled and tattered silk.