LITMIR.BIZ

      This is what the legend says. Nobody knows whether it is true, but in the 16th century, a cursed child of the Ice People was born. He tried to turn evil into good, which is why they called him Tengel the Good. This legend is about his family. Actually, it is mostly about the women in his family – the women who held the fate of the Ice People in their hands.

      Chapter 1

      Five lonely people in the wilderness.

      Spring had followed the holes in the ice northwards, gliding silently around the summits that encircled the Valley of the Ice People. On the other side of the lake, high in the air, the raven shrieked its loneliness.

      The wind tore at their hair and clothes as they stood in the barren, rugged mountain pass with the glacier behind them, looking out over the valley of their relatives; a place where nobody dared to go.

      Spring and the warmth of the sun always came early to the Valley of the Ice People. Nevertheless, the five hikers were unprepared for the sight they encountered.

      After days of trudging through the snow, it was almost a shock for them to look down into a valley whose entire northern side lay parched and seemingly very hot. They couldn’t see the lake and its shore because the fog banks were dense. The southern side was still covered in snow. But this didn’t matter because it wasn’t where the hikers wanted to go.

      As they took in the view of the valley, they felt fear mingled with respect. Finally, they were here. This time, the descendants of the Ice People had brought their chosen relative, Nataniel, with them. The stricken members of the Ice People had waited for him for centuries. Many had attempted to reach the source of evil in this wilderness, so that their people could throw off its yoke, but nobody had succeeded. They hadn’t been strong enough.

      Now the time had come. Nataniel had all the qualities needed for the task. What was more, he had brought Tova with him, of whom it had been prophesied that she would be born at the same time as him, yet in a different generation.

      Quite unexpectedly, another member had joined them. He was a healer so powerful that they had no idea of his full strength: the enigmatic Marco.

      Young Gabriel, who was twelve years old, was also there. He didn’t possess any particular qualifications. He was with them only so that he could tell posterity about their bitter struggle with Tengel the Evil, the scourge of the Ice People.

      Ellen had been the fifth member to be chosen. But Lynx, the mysterious helper of the Ice People’s evil ancestor, had caught her and she had disappeared, engulfed by the Great Abyss.

      A quite ordinary man who had chanced to cross their path now replaced her. He was an Irishman called Ian Morahan. All those who supported the chosen members of the Ice People in their quest had accepted him and had given him the protection he would need in the shape of the potion from the Demon’s Mountain.

      The five chosen ones stood for quite a while without saying a word. They gazed at the steep cliff wall and couldn’t fathom how Tengel the Good and Silje had managed to pull their horse across it in the late 1500s when they fled from the scorched valley. It must have been a struggle. Along with the shock and the sorrow. It had truly been an incredible feat.

      “What should we do first?” asked Ian Morahan.

      The others were happy to note that he counted himself as one of them and that he accepted everything that was happening.

      “We’ve no time to waste,” said Nataniel in his pleasant voice. “We need to begin looking immediately for the place where Tengel the Evil’s vessel is buried. Can we establish the direction from here?”

      “We’re standing in an awkward place,” replied Marco. “We know that the vessel is buried at the foot of a tall cliff with two pinnacles that look like monoliths. But the nearest mountain ridges here cast their shadows over vast parts of the higher plateaux. The most significant landmark in our search – the promontory from which Kolgrim plunged, and where Heike and Tula later met Tengel the Evil – is enveloped in fog.”

      They all felt it: when Marco mentioned Tengel the Evil’s name, the ground under the rock trembled. This was his valley to a much greater degree than it was theirs.

      Or was it the reason for the roaring in the mountains? They looked in amazement at Marco’s gaze, which suddenly turned watchful.

      Then everything was quiet and Marco didn’t look so intense anymore.

      The five hikers felt pretty small, face-to-face with the enormous panorama in front of them. Young Gabriel was clutching his notebook under his arm, trying to appear brave. He doubted that he was succeeding, because the Valley of the Ice People was so intimidating. So beautiful and desolate. Far away from the world of humans, hiding a horror whose scope and strength they didn’t yet know.

      It was a cold day. The ice-old wind from the

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