20. Under the Ice
It snowed heavily during the night, and in the morning, the porch of O'Brians’ house was once again covered with a thick layer of snow. Eric was shoveling the sleet, when Dinah appeared in the yard.
“Is it just me, or have you been avoiding my company recently?”
Without stopping his work, Eric assured her he wasn’t avoiding her.
“Then will you go with me to the rink?”
“To the rink? Today?”
“Yes, right now. Please, let's go.”
“I don’t have skates—”
“Let's go to the store and choose skates for you. Oh, please, Eric, let’s go.”
“But I don't know how to—”
“I know, I’ll teach you.”
Eric tried to find another excuse, but after Dinah’s persistent cajoling, he went to the store on the square after skates. The rink was full of people. Dinah hadn’t lied, she skated well and helped Eric stay on the ice. After many falls and bruises, he at last learned to keep his balance. His friends from the East Bank—Thomas, Marion, and Tim—were swirling around him. Sometimes Dickens appeared on the horizon, but fortunately the ice rink was big, and he quickly got lost in the crowd.
“O'Brian, which is more difficult—to ride or to skate?” Thomas asked, skating around Eric and Dinah.
“I don’t even know. I could break my neck in both cases.”
“You’re a pessimist, O'Brian,” Thomas shouted, sliding away from them.
“Hold my hand, we shall go faster.” Dinah pulled Eric into the middle of the rink. Taking an awkward turn, he lost his balance and trundled on the ice, pulling Dinah down with him.
“You alright?” Eric asked her, holding her head above the ice.
“I’m fine,” Dinah said with a giggle. Her long braids had wrapped around her neck, and her hat had flown from her head. Eric wanted to get up, but Dinah put her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips to his. When Eric didn’t answer her kiss, she flushed and stared him in the eyes.
Eric helped her to her feet, trying not to look at her. He had been dreaming about her since the first day he saw her, but now he couldn’t even make himself answer that long-awaited kiss.
“I have to go,” he said, and muttering a low, “sorry,” left Dinah and the rink.
Eric had a long walk through the misty town. He strolled by the snow-covered arena, where no one was training anymore, then reached Enchanted Garden, and passed to the West Bank. He was thinking about the two girls from the opposite banks, when something sparkled in the distance. It was the icy lake, gleaming like a white saucer under the sun, with jagged mountains on one side and white poplars on the other. Eric looked at the chain of vast mountains with shining icy peaks, and at the deadly glaciers surrounded by the unstained white clouds and deep sunlight. He then looked at the frozen surface of the lake, wondering how solid it was and if it would break under his weight. He took a pebble and threw it on the ice. It didn’t crack. Eric squatted, took off his glove, and rapped the ice with his fist. It echoed with a dull sound. He was about to put the glove back on his hand when he saw something stir beneath the ice. Something golden appeared under the ice, like algae. But algae isn’t golden. He leaned closer to the lake, desperate in his curiosity, holding onto the branches of a withered bush, and keeping his other hand on the surface of the lake. He felt his skin grow cold and was just about to take his hand away when a palm touched the ice from the other side. Eric bounced back. It was a human hand, white and slender. Someone is drowning, he thought, bending over the ice and looking for the hand. Still holding onto the branches, Eric tried to capture the motion. The golden algae reappeared, but it wasn’t algae at all. Hair drifted slowly in the water. Eric banged his fist on the ice, trying to break it. Someone was drowning and the quicker he broke the ice, the higher were the chances to save them. He ran out onto the ice and squatted a few feet in. The ice could break at any second, but Eric wasn’t thinking about it. Once again the hand appeared before his eyes. It stroked the ice from the other side. Eric saw long fingers, a hand, a shoulder. He gaped at the person staring back at him. It was a girl with a pale face and golden hair, and she wasn’t drowning, but smiling at him while sinking deeper into the darkness. She was going down, and he was looking after her, thinking that she was drowning and that he had imagined her smile. Eric raised his head and looked around him.
“HELP! ANYBODY!”
Something hit the ice and cracked it, tossing icy shards all around the lake. Eric rushed to the hole and was grabbed by the collar and dragged into the water.
He tried to resist, but she held him tightly. Her face was inches from his; she was smiling while he tried to pull out of her grasp. The girl dragged him down into the abyss. Eric was still holding in his breath, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. Air, he thought. Give me air. His lungs were unable to hold back any longer, they needed to take a sip of air. Then she touched his face with her icy lips. It was a strange kiss, and it could bring him only death.
Eric opened his mouth, and when she tossed her head back, the cold water rushed into his gullet. Only a few agonizing seconds, and everything would be over. Eric tried to fight for life, but strength was leaving him. It was his end.
But it ended differently. The girl rushed up, carrying Eric with her. One mighty blow under the ice, then shards and drops flew aside. Eric's face appeared above the water and someone grabbed him firmly by the collar, pulling him out. It was Hector, holding Eric by the shoulders while he coughed out water.
“Are you alright? Eric, can you hear me?”
Eric was shaking; his teeth chattered so hard it seemed they were going to break. Hector dragged him to his carriage on the shore and took him to his house.
Wrapped in a blanket, Eric was sitting by the fire with a cup of hot tea. His hair was still wet, as well as his clothes hanging near the fireplace.
“You saved my life,” he told Hector. “I'll never forget it.”
“Nonsense. Anyone would’ve done the same. Luckily, you called for help, otherwise I wouldn’t have suspected that someone was in trouble.”
“How could she be under the water? How did she not drown?” He looked at Hector for an answer. “It was—”
“A mermaid.”
“A mermaid?”
“A mermaid, a siren; call her as you like, but based on your story, it could be only her—long golden hair, pale face, and a tail with fins.”
“Tail? There was no tail.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm not sure of anything, but she seemed so real.”
“Mermaids are real, too.”
“I don’t remember seeing her tail.”
“But did you see her legs?”
Thinking it over, Eric shook his head.
“How do you think she broke the ice before she pulled you under the water? I was standing on the shore when the ice shattered into pieces; they break it with their tails. And they also drown people. I don’t know why she let you go, but believe me, you’re very lucky.”
“A mermaid tried to drown me. Am I dreaming?”
“I am assuring you that you’re not sleeping. And then, why would you dream about me, when you have a charming witch to dream about?”
Eric laughed. “I don’t remember if I have thanked you.”
“You have. Many times. It’s obvious you’re glad to be alive.” Hector chuckled. “But I never thought the mermaids would swim so close to the shore.”
“I remember her dragging me down. I thought my ears would burst. It was dark there, but I continued to see her face, as if it was lit up by the glitter of her hair. Crazy town,” he muttered under his breath. “Are there many such creatures in Hollow?”
“Not anymore. Once Hollow was a town inhabited by witches, wizards, and other magical creatures. But almost everyone was killed in the witch hunt. When the story with the split of the town began, I was a child and don’t remember a lot. My father never speaks about it, because my mother die
d then. He doesn’t tell me what really happened. My father always says the same thing—that my mother's death was an accident, but what happened in Hollow was far from an accident. Jack and I have recently begun searching for answers. We have learned a lot, but much is still hidden from us.”
“What have you learned?”
“Somewhere in the forest there’s an ancient castle. Once a road led to the castle, but then it overgrew with trees and was lost. Many years ago, people came from this castle—the Hunters. They split the town and began a massacre of witches and their families. Jack’s aunts and their families were murdered. I think my mother was killed by them too, though she wasn’t a witch.”
“Then why would she be killed?”
“Because she was friends with the witches who were executed.” Hector took a deep breath. “You can’t even imagine what they did—those Hunters. They murdered, tortured, slaughtered. The mere thought that my mother might have been tortured by them make my blood freeze.”
Eric remembered the night in the forest and the visions he had by the fire. He couldn’t explain how, but he had seen what Hector was telling him. The murders, and the Hunters, and their victims. He looked at his hand. The burn, the only proof that his visions had come to life, was still there.
“Jack and I have found out that Sheriff De Roy and some of the residents of the East Bank had sided with the Hunters. That’s why my father and Jack’s parents keep silent. Jack has been arguing with them for months, but they won’t tell the truth. They know if we learn the names of those who took part in the hunt, we’ll take revenge on them. We’re trying to find out ourselves, but we haven’t learned as much as we need. People are still afraid to recall the events, even though so many years have passed. We’ve been looking for letters, diaries, journals.”
Eric thought about the dinner in the McCormacks' house and how angry Peter McCormack became when they talked about the witches. He wondered what had been Peter McCormack’s role in the witch hunt.
“How could something like that happen just a decade ago? The days of inquisition are long over.”
“We know very little, but we’re looking for the answers. I will find out how my mother died. If she was murdered, I’ll find the one who did it.”
“Do the girls know about all that?”
“They know about the witch hunt, but not the details. Jack and I found an old diary and learned things that would make your blood freeze, but Jack won’t tell them about it. He protects them as much as he can.”
“Do you think they may be back?”
“The Hunters?”
Eric nodded.
“Yes, they may come again. We’ve learned that they have been coming back to Hollow throughout centuries.”
Eric ran his hand through his wet hair. “Hector, if I can do anything to help you in your search, just let me know. You can count on me. I know I’ll be leaving soon, but still, if you feel I can be of help, just write to me, and I’ll do my best to be back. I want to be sure that nothing like this happens again. Not to my friends.”
Hector nodded in agreement.