The carriage flew on as the days stretched into a week. They traveled east, then north, following rumors and old maps, searching for any sign of the others. The journey was long, but they did not hurry. There was no need. The search was the destination.
They saw many things.
On the third day, they passed over a mountain.
It rose from the forest like a sleeping giant, its peak lost in clouds. Alex guided the carriage higher, until they flew level with the snow line. The air grew thin and cold. Saeko wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and pressed her face to the window.
The mountain was bare above the treeline, nothing but gray rock and white snow. But near the summit, where the wind had carved deep crevices into the stone, a small lake sat frozen in a bowl of rock. The ice was blue, deep and ancient, and it reflected the sky like a mirror.
Alex slowed the carriage. They hovered in silence, watching.
"Ice," Saeko said. Not a question.
"Yes."
"Maria would like this place."
