“Mathis. Mathis, wake up.”
Schuler blinked open his eyes to see his brother reaching over a pile of ash to shake his shoulder. The frozen curtain had maintained the burn of the fire, making it unnecessary to sacrifice their clothing. It was a miracle. Schuler found himself lying on his side on the ground. His hand shot up to his forehead to find the skull missing. With a start, the man sat up and turned his head in dismay.
Behind him, held up by a frozen sheet, was the dark skull. Nothing existed in the empty sockets. The void stared back at the men over a gaping maw. It guarded a band of glazed light that appeared beyond the icy screen. Dawn had come. The dead skull had seen them through the night.
“D-do we pry it out from the ice?” Albert asked softly. “We can’t just wait here for it to melt.”
Schuler gritted his teeth. His brother was right. The ice, his body, could take hours to thaw if it would at all in the cold. What was a refuge from the storm was now a cage. They could not wait. He shambled around and knelt before the skull.
The man struggled to convince himself that Anax would not feel his body breaking apart. After all, the creature’s anatomy was beyond what he could understand. However, Schuler could not help but think he was desecrating his savior. His fingers curled around the edge of the slot that Anax had left for air. The bitter cold nipped his skin. He pulled.
Schuler felt a phantom pain as the first piece came away and hit the ground. A series of fractures followed as he continued to fell each glassy piece. With shaking fingers, he frantically guided them into a pile at his knees. The ice racked his bones, but he would collect them all. Anax deserved this minimal respect.
Choked breaths escaped his throat as more of winter wafted into their enclosure. Schuler’s lungs seared as though he had run a mile. However, he took no breaks. Anax never tired, and neither would he. Fingers burned bright red, then purple. When the skull loosened from the shattering wall, Schuler gently took it into his hands. He could barely feel it. Gingerly, he placed the skull by the coals with a vain hope.
For a moment Schuler studied the curves of Anax’s crown. But no eye flashed into existence. The man then continued to break apart the last of the ice until the deed was done.
Now unimpeded, a gentle breeze greeted the men and briefly aroused the corpse of the fire. Schuler swept the pile of frozen pieces toward the small coals. Albert watched wordlessly, holding still so as not to aggravate his leg or his aching joints. The cold was not helping his condition, but he knew the monster needed his brother’s full attention. Their salvation was in its claws. It always had been.
Albert stared out beyond the shadow of their little cave. The sky was completely clear. Still untouched by day were the birches spilling down the slope. Crusted with ice, the dark poles staked through a smooth lavender blanket of snow. He shivered, but the promise of the sun was enough to resuscitate his spirit.
The skull was still unresponsive and the thin layer of ice encrusted around it had not budged. Their little cave faced westward, and what had sheltered them during the night now blocked the sun and fenced them in chilling temperatures. And with no dry fuel in sight, the fire would not be revived. Schuler looked toward the band of light outside. Their greatest hope lay beyond the shadow of the cave.
Schuler lifted the skull into his deadened hands. He locked eyes with his brother.
Albert knew what his younger brother would do. Despite every fiber in his body jumping to word otherwise, to rebuke, to chastise, he nodded. “G-go,” said the elder. “You know where to find me.”
Schuler squinted, his heart tearing at leaving his brother here. He knew not when the sun would reach him, so he took off his coat.
“Mathis, what are you—“
“You’ll need this while I’m out,” said Schuler curtly. He left no room for a retort. Albert was physically incapable of returning it. Once his coat covered his brother, Schuler scrambled out of the shelter of the rock and into the open wilds with the skull under his arm.
Silence seized the dead camp. Albert barely ventured to breathe. He had been left alone before and was not worried about his own safety. However, his stomach turned over his brother’s well-being. When they were first cast into the wilderness, before he knew the skull was alive, there existed a shallow foundation of bravado. They were men, they would handle things. He had spent years in the Torondek, but as their journey continued, that foundation crumbled. The reveal of the monster was a bolster that held them above water. But now that even the skull’s status was uncertain, Albert felt all the more terrified.
Albert kneaded his brother’s coat in his hands. The sun had risen, but it was still far from the cave. He stared enviously at the birches on the horizon, illuminated from their boughs to their trunks. How he wished to stand among them to embrace the love and warmth of the heavens. He sniffed. Right now, he had the love and warmth of his brother surrounding him. The scarf around his leg was the first gift, and the second gift he now clutched in his arms. The coat lining still held some of his brother’s warmth. Albert hugged it to his chest.
Every minute that passed he sent a prayer upward. Even if his brother was committed to a path toward Hell, he deserved to live a bit longer before that. The monster, too. No one should die alone. Not in these conditions.
Albert shuddered. He watched his breath escape him, twisting in the dark shade of the rock. Perhaps they were all done. He coughed back a sob. He would volunteer for eternal damnation if only he could take back what he had said to his brother and his new sister-in-law. If he could only apologize.
Marguerite’s sunny disposition crossed his mind. Under this frigid hold, she was the only thing to give him peace. His mouth wrinkled as he laid his head back against the stone. She would take good care of their children. As she always had.
“Oh, Marguerite,” he whispered. “I’m a fool.”
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