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the quilt over his back. He began to slowly, painstakingly chisel away at the ice with the cleaver. He dreaded the sight before him, still not knowing if she was dead or alive. It was very possible that he had spent half the morning to dig her out, only to be retrieving the completely lifeless body. Em had not made a sound as he tunneled around her enclosure. He had tried to speak with her on a few occasions, but the silence he got in return was overwhelming.
    Russell did not want to begin his life over. He was happy for the first time since the sonic. Em made him laugh and even when she made him angry, it was an emotion that he could not hang onto.
    The cleaver broke through and he hesitated for a moment. Did he really want to see her black and charred? If legend held true, she might have faded away to dust, but somehow he didn’t think so. Em was not the type to wither away and leave the world without someone mourning her death. She might not want a funeral, but…hadn’t she said something once about being cremated? Russell wasn’t even sure if that could be done without a high heat furnace.
    He was hesitating to break away more of the ice. With a reluctant swing of the heavy blade, he made it bigger. Each slice through meant that with one more blow he might see her fate. Would she even look like his Em anymore? He turned the knife sideways and cut through the bars of ice he had created. The tinkle of chunks as they fell into her cave sounded like breaking glass.
    Em was just as he had feared. Her face and hands were blackened, and her clothing was melted to her body. The inside of her enclosure had been melted solid and she was sealed within it.
    With a heavy heart and a determination to simply bring her home, Russell continued chopping.
     
    * * * *
     
    He had wrapped the ice block in the quilt and had dragged it back to the fortress. He had no way to know if she was dead or alive, but she had made no attempt to move. Russell had removed as much of the ice as he could, but with no pulse to feel for, he was at the mercy of Rory or Salt to say if she was actually dead.
    Shoving the door open, he hauled the satchel to the top stair and then shut the door. The inside of the main room was warm and filled with people. They were all sitting at the various tables and chairs, eating from a wide buffet of food. His stomach growled in hunger, the sound causing those closest to the stairs to turn and glace at him.
    “Could someone grab me a towel or a blanket?” asked Russell in a somewhat gruff voice.
    Janet had a shawl around her shoulders and she quickly brought it to him. Russell wrapped it around his waist and then shifted back into a man. Janet gestured to the satchel with her head. “Is that Em?”
    Russell nodded. “I have to get her to Rory and Salt. I have no way to know if she is alive or dead.”
    “Do you need help?”
    “No. What I would really like is a plate of food. Could you get me one?”
    “Of course.” Janet turned and hurried down the stairs, going to get him a plate.
    Russell shifted the corners of the quilt up over his shoulder. He had no intention of allowing the humans to see Em in her present state. The sight was simply too gruesome. He walked slowly down the stairs. He was cold and exhausted. Grief had added to his weariness, making her feel far heavier than she actually was. As he walked through the hall, everyone turned their eyes to him. He knew that they were looking for some show of encouragement, but he had none to give. Janet followed him down the hall with the food in her hands. She had piled his plate high with a variety and if he had been less distracted, he would be more eager to eat. The only reason he was even doing so was because his stomach was demanding it of him.
    Janet knocked on the door, but there was no answer. “What do I do?”
    “It should be open.”
    She tentatively put her hand to the knob and slowly turned it. As he had predicted, the door slid open. Salt was