C1 Chapter 1

The blackest day in the history of the Ice People. You would have to give that designation to 8 May 1960. They had undeniably had their share of bleak moments through the centuries. On that day, however, everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong.

The entire proud expedition to the Valley of the Ice People had failed at the halfway point. Tengel the Evil had proved stronger than they had anticipated. It was his fear of their reaching the Valley that lay behind all the misery.

Little Gabriel, the only child of Karine and Joakim, lay senseless on an inaccessible ridge above the Gudbrandsdals River. And the cliff, the bare rock, gave him no protection. This was Shama’s territory.

The wonderful Marco, in whom everyone put all their trust, had fallen into the river in his attempt to save the child. A helper of Tengel the Evil had cut the rope that Marco had been using.

Ellen was gone: for just as Nataniel had predicted, one of them would have to pay with their life and perhaps even drag the other one down with them if they gave in to their feelings. That was what he had seen in the flash of a painful vision the first time they met.

And Nataniel himself had been badly hurt by the grenade that had been thrown at them, though no one knew how badly, least of all himself. In his agonizing state of pain, all he could hear was Linde-Lou’s despairing voice: “Gone! She’s gone into the Great Abyss, the void that the demons fear most of all! The Great Abyss has taken Ellen!”

And then Nataniel was surrounded by darkness and nothing else.

The fifth of the chosen ones, Tova, was running for her life into a big forest farther up the valley. She was pursued by unscrupulous men with murder in their eyes: Tengel the Evil’s men. Nevertheless, she still attempted to drag the terminally sick Irishman Ian Morahan along with her, trying to save him from a quick death only to condemn him to a slow and tortuous one, because she wasn’t thinking straight but doing what she thought was an act of compassion.

It was clear as day that those two didn’t have the slightest chance of getting out of this alive.

And in the hall of Linden Avenue Tengel the Evil himself had taken on the shape of Per Olav Winger – and Mali had not recognized him.

The day couldn’t have been darker.

The local men who had been trying to help rescue Gabriel stood paralysed, staring down into the abyss where Marco had disappeared.

“He was a brave man,” murmured one of them. “May heaven have mercy on his soul.”

“We’ll have to search for him farther down the river, of course,” said the doctor. “But he couldn’t have survived that fall. We have to concentrate on the boy.”

The sheriff, who had been urgently summoned by the doctor, had other things to see to. He and one of his men had gone off to find the knave who had slashed the rope. The farm hands heard a volley of shots from farther into the forest.

Then the sheriff returned. “He escaped in a vehicle. I’ve sent several men after him but our cars were parked farther away so he had a head start. How’s it going here? Who’s willing to be lowered down this time?”

There was an embarrassing silence.

“Naturally we’ll make sure that nothing like that happens again,” added the sheriff quickly. “The rope will be monitored at all times.”

All the men probably wanted to go down and fetch the boy, but they were frightened by the abyss. They thought of their wives and children at home and hoped that one of the others would volunteer.

Suddenly a strange figure emerged from the forest. The men said later that they had never seen anything so hideous. A stiff-legged man dressed in brown, who had hair that resembled hemp and sunken eyes. In a creaking voice he asked if he could go down and rescue the boy.

Everyone gave a sigh of relief and without giving much thought to his peculiar physiognomy they carefully tied a new rope around him.

“There was another,” said the doctor, “but he fell into the river.”

Rune nodded, as though he was already aware of it but didn’t seem too concerned about Marco’s fate. Those who had been there from the start found the situation extremely bizarre: first the most handsome man they had ever seen had attempted to save the child, and now by far the ugliest one they had laid eyes on was going to try.

Slowly and clumsily, but without hesitation, Rune began to make his way down the cliff wall. The others watched his descent with great interest. They watched him approach the seemingly lifeless boy and they held their breath as the wooden-seeming, alarmingly ugly man reached the ledge. They saw him standing still while his lips moved as though he was speaking to someone. But it couldn’t have been the boy, because he seemed so deeply unconscious that they actually feared the worst.

Then the man tied the rope around the boy and signalled to them to start pulling. And then they got to work. There was nothing to scare them off now.

“What kind of a maniac was that who came and cut the line?” asked one as he was hauling on the rope.

“He must have been crazy,” said another.

“A lot of strange things seem to happen here,” said a third. “And whatever happened to that girl? The one who was ugly as a troll? And who sent us here? I don’t understand any of this!”

“There’s something sinister brewing here.”

The doctor and the sheriff remained silent. They waited with great anticipation as the boy and his peculiar rescuer were pulled up.

The sound of an ambulance siren could be heard coming from the road.

“I ordered it,” said the doctor.

“And I’ve sent a search party down to look for the man who fell into the river,” said the sheriff. “But I think this might be more urgent right now.”

“Yes, of course.”

The load was lifted up terribly slowly, until one of the men was able to reach Rune’s hand. “It was like grabbing hold of wood,” he said afterwards.

After that they focused all their attention on the little boy. The ambulance staff came running down with a stretcher upon which Gabriel was laid, and the procession quickly made its way to the main road.

“We should thank ...” began the sheriff. “But where did he go?”

The mysterious rescuer was nowhere to be seen.

Morahan began to cough. He had to stop: his lungs were making a wheezing sound and there was blood in his mouth.

Tova looked at him in dismay. “They’re coming! What are we to do?”’

“Run!” whispered Morahan hoarsely.

“Over my dead body!” she gasped. “Here! Between these rocks!”

“You too.”

She hesitated. There wasn’t really room for both of them. “Yes! But keep quiet then, don’t cough!”

That was easier said than done.

At the very last minute they managed to squeeze themselves between some boulders and just had to hope they weren’t too visible. Morahan tried to hold back his coughing attack and Tova helped him by covering his mouth with her hand. When she saw the blood trickling through her fingers she grew cold with fear.

Their pursuers came rushing out of the forest. They hurried past them, taking the most obvious route into a gorge, and then they were gone. Tova couldn’t imagine how they hadn’t been able to catch sight of her and Morahan, but then she realized that their hiding-place wasn’t all that visible after all.

Aha, she thought. Someone had positioned themselves between them and their pursuers, blocking whatever view there may have been of them.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you, whoever you are.”

She could hear Halkatla’s cheerful laughter. So she was still with them. Great!

“But they’ll probably come back,” she whispered to Morahan. “What will we do then?”

She didn’t get any response. Morahan had lost consciousness.

Maybe it’s for the best, Tova thought. He’ll avoid having to experience all this torment.

She took a moment to look at his disease-ravaged face and liked it. “Damn!” she thought. “Damn it!”

She could safely leave him there, they would probably leave him alone. But she would have to go.

But she remained where she was.

There were voices approaching; the men were returning.

I’m in deep water now, she thought. And Marco, my guardian, isn’t here.

“Do something, Halkatla!” she muttered. “You are in contact with spirits and demons. We’re in a real crisis now.”

“It’s already been done,” answered Halkatla softly.

A strong wind blew through the forest. There was the sound of loud thunder. A whirlwind raged along, sweeping up sticks and straw, picking up loose objects and rocks along the way and tearing through the trees.

The pursuers screamed: “That confounded tornado has returned! The one that took our friends! Hurry! Find shelter!”

Tova could tell from the shouts of horror that arose that they hadn’t managed to get away.

“Thank you, storm demons!” she shouted, “And thank you, Halkatla!”

“My pleasure,” answered the roguish woman’s voice.

The forest grew quiet. Morahan moved slightly and moaned a little but didn’t wake up. Tova took out her handkerchief and wiped the blood from her hands and his face. “Poor man,” she whispered. “Poor man, you don’t deserve this. You look so ... kind.”

No, not kind, that sounded so neutral. Sympathetic? Yes, that was better.

And then she heard footsteps.

Yet another pursuer? She automatically threw herself to the ground.

“Tova?” said a creaking voice.

“Rune!” she shouted with joy as she flew up to greet him. “Oh, Rune, Rune, thank you so much!”

She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug.

“It wasn’t me,” he smiled shyly. Then he grew serious again, “Was it ... the storm demons again?”

“Yes.”

He looked very concerned. “They have done tremendous work today. But they have defied Tengel the Evil’s plans too many times now. He has begun to notice them.”

“I thought he had been destroyed?”

“Far from it. He is in Linden Avenue now.”

“What?”

“Others are taking care of that. We must concentrate on what’s going on right here and now.”

Tova was speechless for a moment. Then she said meekly, “But he can’t harm the storm demons, can he?”

“There is the Great Abyss, every demon’s greatest fear.”

Tova shuddered. “But does it really ... exist?”

“It has already managed to swallow Ellen.”

“What?”

“It’s true, I’m afraid.”

Tova started to moan in despair. “We have to save her!”

“Where? We don’t even know where it is. And the Great Abyss means annihilation, Tova, don’t forget that!”

“Oh, Ellen!” Tova groaned.

A subdued storm passed above them.

“Thank you, Typhoon!” Rune shouted. “Thank you all, storm demons! But beware! He is after you!”

They responded with an overly confident, hollow laugh and then they were gone.

“Rune, I feel paralysed,” whispered Tova.

“And you don’t even know the half of it. Tengel the Evil hit us hard. Harder than we had anticipated. But we have to see if we can move on from here. I can see that that man is suffering.”

“Is there nothing you can do for him, Rune?” she asked. “His name is Morahan and he is a fine person. Can’t Marco ...?”

“Marco can’t do anything now,” Rune answered quickly, not wanting to tell her what had happened at the river. “Help me lift the man up.”

They lifted Morahan on to Rune’s back and started to make their way out to the road.

“Can Halkatla be allowed to show herself?” Tova wanted to know. “It’s so hard not knowing which side she’s on.”

“Yes, of course,” said Rune, smiling. “Then she can help us carry him.”

Halkatla appeared with a gentle smile on her lips – she appeared to Tova’s left instead of her right, as would have been expected.

“Welcome back,” said Tova who always felt very comfortable in Halkatla’s company. They were two spirits who understood one another without having to communicate in words.

“We have to get him to a hospital,” said Rune, referring to Morahan.

“To Lillehammer?” said Tova. “That’s the only hospital in this area, and then we’d have to get back. There’s no time for that!”

“No, but we could send him in an ambulance.”

Every cell in Tova’s body resisted that suggestion. “I feel personally responsible for him.”

“In which case you should stop dragging him around like this. The man is dying, can’t you see that?”

Tova couldn’t think of an answer. But she felt sorrowful and uneasy.

Just like his relative, Christa, who had once experienced this, Marco felt his fall suddenly come to a halt.

When the rope from which he was hanging had been cut and he began tumbling down to the seething river, his thought had been: I am no longer a black angel, I am mostly human, I’ll never survive this. But Christa hadn’t been one of the chosen, yet still she had been able, if not to fly, at least to keep herself afloat in the air longer than ordinary people. So why shouldn’t he, who was much closer to Lucifer than her, be able to do it too?

He knew how she had done it: pushed back the air with her hands and fingers. This would slow her fall. And as he neared the rumbling cascades of water in the Gudbrandsdals River, another thought struck him. The cliff, the rock, gave him no protection, but the water – what was it that Taran-gai water spirit had said that time? “The water must carry you and not close itself around you.”

But what if the water in which he landed was too shallow? What if he immediately hit the bottom?

But his thoughts, which were faster than lightning, didn’t get much further before he was surrounded by spitting waves and engulfed by the river. He was swept into a hole at the base of the thundering waterfall, beaten black and blue, but nevertheless still alive.

Three things saved me, he thought as he struggled to get back on land before the current dragged him back again: the same skill that Christa possessed, which was to slow down the fall by using air resistance; the protection that he had received from the water spirit in the Demon’s Mountain; and finally the fact that he was, after all, a black angel. Because even though he hadn’t kept all their characteristics he was still immortal.

The last factor was immutable. He could injure himself like any ordinary human. But Lucifer’s only son could not die.

His hand found something to grab hold of – a birch sapling that was hanging above the water. And soon he was back on land, even though it was quite far from the spot where he had originally fallen into the water. And he had only been moderately injured. He was limping from a hard blow to his hip, and his arm on the same side burnt like fire after the impact with the water, but otherwise he was fine.

Marco didn’t have his own protector. But he had all the black angels, and one of them was standing on the bank.

“Don’t go back up there,” said the black angel. “Rune has been watching over it and will fetch the boy now. Go towards Tova instead – she needs you more. And ... on your way there it is best if you take Ellen’s bottle with you. We’ll show you where it is hidden.”

“But what about Ellen herself? Why can’t she ...?”

“Ellen is no longer with us.”

The black angel explained how she had been swallowed up by the Great Abyss, or the Shaft. Marco was speechless with sorrow. For a long time they stood there without saying anything.

“And ... Nataniel?” Marco asked finally.

“He was hit by the same hand grenade as Ellen. We’re working on him, but I don’t know.”

“So there’s been a total breakdown? Through every line?”

“Yes, and Tengel the Evil has forced his way into the stronghold, Linden Avenue.”

Marco took a couple of deep breaths. “Take me to Tova immediately! Even though I am mostly human now, you can still assist me, can’t you?”

“No. I’m sorry, Marco, but the source of life only applies to humans, not to demons or black angels. As the son of our ruler you would be considered worthless in the Valley of the Ice People, you wouldn’t be able to locate the jar containing the water of evil. Only a living mortal can do that. That’s why I am unable to help you now. I’ll escort you, but you’ll have to make your own way out of this deep hollow.”

Marco looked searchingly up the bare walls of the cliff. “Shama’s Kingdom,” he muttered. “How am I to ...?”

His gaze followed the wild path of the river along the base of the cliff. At the very bottom it became wider and flatter.

“But the water and the ground won’t harm me,” he muttered. “Come, my friend.”

Fearlessly he hurled himself back into the river.

The sound of howling sirens could be heard coming from somewhere. Was it a police car? No, more likely an ambulance. Everything was rocking pleasantly back and forth as though he was in a boat ...

Nataniel woke up to painful reality.

“Ellen,” he said hazily.

“There, there, lie still,” said a kind and persuasive voice.

Nataniel shouted out in fear and despair: “Ellen!”

Somebody gave him an injection in his arm. The sirens howled, the ambulance made a sharp turn and he was fastened with a seat belt to keep him from sliding around. He opened his eyes.

A male nurse sat there. There wasn’t room for anyone else in the back with the stretcher.

“I’ve lost Ellen,” Nataniel whispered.

As the anaesthesia spread a gentle fog over his pain and bewilderment he heard the response: “I don’t know who Ellen is. You were alone in the hangar. Had she been with you before that?”

“Yes.”

“Then she probably managed to get out in time.”

“But one of us had to die. I know, I could feel the vibrations of death: they filled the entire hangar.”

The nurse didn’t know, of course, what Nataniel was talking about; he thought he was delirious.

“There were cement bags close to you in the hangar,” the young man explained. “They split when the grenade exploded, the airport staff said, throwing up a big cloud of dust. Everything was enveloped in a layer of grey-white dust. You were the only one there, lying on your stomach with bleeding wounds on your shoulder blades and ribs. Had there been even one more casualty we would have seen some traces of blood or footprints. But there was actually nothing ...”

The young man’s voice sounded distant to Nataniel, the anaesthetic was beginning to take effect. His last thought was that no one could possibly disappear so completely as she had.

But he and Ellen had always been able to communicate telepathically ...

He focused all his concentration on contacting her. But of course it was too late now, his consciousness was slipping away.

And he didn’t manage to elicit a single response, not even subconsciously.

Ellen had disappeared without a trace.

Little Gabriel woke up in a white room.

It smelled like a hospital.

His body was in unbearable pain. His left arm was bandaged. It’s a good thing it wasn’t my right arm, he thought foggily. Or I wouldn’t be able to write in my diary.

Then the pain began to overwhelm him. How his head ached! He had a splitting pain in the back of his head and in his neck.

He groaned. Mother, he thought, I want to go home to Mother!

But it wouldn’t have been much help even if his mother had been there to blow on it, this was so dreadfully painful!

“Hi there!” said a voice.

A doctor was bending over him with a friendly smile. “So you’re awake now.”

“Yes,” Gabriel tried to say, but his voice was gone.

“An angel must have been watching over you, my boy.”

Gabriel squeaked something in response.

“What did you say?” asked the doctor cheerfully. “Watched by the black angel? They don’t exist, and if they did they certainly wouldn’t watch over little boys who fall off cliffs!”

You know nothing about it, Gabriel thought but was too tired to say aloud. He closed his eyes.

Some time later, he didn’t know how much later, he woke up again.

Somebody was moaning near him.

In the next bed ...

Gabriel looked in that direction. At first it was hard to see clearly what it was. For a moment it looked as if two tall black figures were blocking the view, but then he was able to see normally again. His first reaction was one of joy.

“Uncle Na ... I mean, Nataniel, is that you?”

Then he grew worried. Nataniel didn’t look at all well. And he seemed so sad! And what was he doing in a hospital bed?

“Nataniel! can you hear me?”

It seemed they were alone in the ward.

His uncle moved his lips. He seemed paralysed somehow. “Ellen,” he whispered. “They’ve taken Ellen.”

Gabriel became alarmed and tried to straighten himself up on his elbow but it was completely impossible. Oh no, the headache was coming back! And his whole body, all his limbs and his back, was in pain.

“Nataniel,” he said urgently, “How are you? It’s me, Gabriel, I’m here, too.”

After a while it finally seemed as though Nataniel understood. He turned his head towards the boy’s bed. But his gaze was foggy and hazy, as though he had been drugged. “Little Gabriel,” he said tenderly. “How are you?”

They briefly shared their symptoms with one another. Then Nataniel said: “Linde-Lou said something just before I lost consciousness. He mentioned the Great Abyss.”

“Do you think that Ellen ...?”

“I don’t understand it, but what if it’s true? But, no, it can’t be! It just can’t be!”

“But if it is true,” said Gabriel, his voice grainy with tears, “Who was it that did it? Got her over there, I mean? Was it Tengel the Evil himself?”

“If it was he didn’t do it personally. But the man who entered the hangar ... the one they call Number One. Gabriel, chills shivered down my back when I met his gaze. He was the scariest creature I’ve ever seen. And we’ve seen quite a lot, both in the Demon’s Mountain and among Tengel the Evil’s helpers, but this was something completely different. Something much worse. Because he was human. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” answered Gabriel a little uncertainly.

Nataniel closed his eyes. “I think he was the one who did it to Ellen. It couldn’t have been anyone else.”

He continued through clenched teeth: “I’m going to mobilize every single one of our allies among the spirits and demons to determine the location of the Great Abyss. If it exists at all, which I doubt. But where else could she be? Believe me, Gabriel, I won’t give up until I’ve found Ellen, dead or alive.”

Gabriel wanted to object that they already had a task ahead of them, but he thought it would be too petty to bring up the Valley of the Ice People at a moment like this.

In any case, neither he nor Nataniel could do much right now. All they could do was stay put in their sickbeds until the doctor gave them permission to leave.

Mali had not been able to recognize Tengel the Evil in the guise of Per Olav Winger. But Benedikte was one of the stricken. Completely unsuspecting, she had come out into the hallway to greet the vacuum cleaner representative, whom they hadn’t summoned. She stopped dead in her tracks.

She stared at the man standing over by the cupboard, which he was inspecting with his back to her. She sensed the repulsive smell but that wasn’t what made her react. Despite the fact that Per Olav was a tall, erect man who didn’t in the least resemble Tengel the Evil, Benedikte seemed to see right through him. She saw what was concealed behind the everyday appearance of this man. It wasn’t that she actually saw Tengel the Evil, but she could sense his presence.

She managed to whisper a few words to Mali. “Hurry! Both of you run to the Voldens and warn them! All the children must be sent away. Get word to the rest of the family!”

Mali gave her a quizzical look, to which Benedikte merely nodded. Her daughter-in-law quickly left the room.

The man had turned around and as he did so he put on a pair of dark glasses. But Benedikte had managed to catch a glimpse of the evil yellow gaze.

She knew that she herself wouldn’t manage to get away. For one thing she was too old, and for another someone would have to keep him at bay while the others ran to safety.

Outwardly she was very calm. But her heart was pounding wildly. Sander! she thought. Sander, my dearest friend, it has been many lonely years! And now they will soon be over!

She pretended that she thought it was the vacuum cleaner man standing before her.

“I understand that you were told we were interested in buying a new vacuum cleaner,” she said courteously. It was a matter of stalling for time. “But there must be some misunderstanding. The one we have works just fine.”

But Tengel the Evil didn’t waste time.

“Benedikte,” he said with deep loathing as he removed his sunglasses. “Face to face. You who defied me in your youth. What became of that, by the way? You look horrible. You take after me, I see. I am pleased to see that.”

She straightened her back. “Get out of my house. Right now!”

He laughed coldly. “Just listen to this.”

Tengel the Evil took a step closer to her and the repulsive stench almost stifled her. “You’re afraid of dying, all you pathetic mortals are. I’ll let you stay alive if you’ll tell me who it was who helped you at Fergeoset. Who ruined my idol there, which I would give my life to be able to use now. Who was that wretch?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Then I’ll kill all the children in the family.”

“You will do that anyway.”

That response provoked Tengel in the extreme.

“I’ll give you a last chance to save them all. Who was it?”

“You can threaten all you want,” said Benedikte, her heart bleeding with sorrow. Never to see this again: Linden Avenue. Her son André and his Mali. Her grandson Rikard and his little family.

But she had lived a long life, she would soon be ninety. And she had had a rich life.

When Tengel the Evil realized that he would get nowhere with her, Per Olav Winger’s face became twisted and from his gaping mouth a grey-green cloud of vapour came tumbling towards her. Benedikte retreated; it felt as though her body was burning from the unbearable stench and her lungs couldn’t get any air. Without resistance, she collapsed on the floor.

Per Olav Winger went on into the house to find the others. But they had already left Linden Avenue. When he discovered that he rushed to the next house of the Ice People, fuming with rage.

Someone helped Benedikte up. Heike. Her protector.

“We let it happen,” he said, smiling at her tenderly. “Because Tengel the Evil has made life more difficult for himself. We need you here with us, where your capabilities will be put to proper use: you with your ability to read the history of objects and look into hidden things.”

“But he is after the others! They must be saved!”

“We’re already taking action to eliminate that danger.”

All at once she noticed that there were others in the room. Tengel the Good was there, and Sol. And Shira. She greeted them, overwhelmed with joy, and they welcomed her into their midst.

“As you can see, not many of us are here,” said Tengel the Good. “All the others are busy saving their protegés from our evil ancestor. I can’t say out loud where they are being taken, but you know already, don’t you?”

Yes, Benedikte knew. In the greatest secrecy, the children were being taken to the Demon’s Mountain. Thank goodness! They would be safe with Tula!

She happened to look down at herself and discovered that she was no longer wearing her dignified old lady’s dress. Instead she was dressed like the others, in a simple, light tunic. And her hands. All the brown spots and swollen veins that had come with age had disappeared.

“Yes, you are young again, Benedikte,” said Sol, smiling. “And you are wonderfully sweet and womanly. Touchingly feminine, as you have always been.”

“Thank you,” she said, surprised. “I always saw myself as big and clumsy and mannish.”

“Then you weren’t seeing correctly,” Sol maintained. “You can have a big body and still be very feminine.”

“Yes,” said Benedikte, somewhat faintly, but inwardly she sighed with happiness. If only Sander had been with her!

But strangely she didn’t miss him so much. She realized what a great sense of community there was in the group of spirits.

“I’m ready to get to work,” she said.

Just as she had said that, Ingrid joined them. She looked very concerned.

“Mari is refusing to hand the children over, and I can’t find a way to persuade her.”

“Then take them by force,” said Tengel the Good.

“That’s already been done with the four youngest. But Christel is in love with a boy and doesn’t want to go to the Demon’s Mountain.”

“I knew they would give us problems,” said Sol with gritted teeth. “Mari and Christel have never really belonged to us. And is it Inu who is responsible for Christel?”

“Yes, he has received assistance from Tula. But both mother and daughter refuse to believe there is any danger. They don’t believe that Tengel the Evil has been set free.”

“I’ll see to it,” Sol hissed and left in a raging funnel of air, making the tablerunners fly about.

But she arrived too late. Christel was dead and could never be brought back to life. Mari sat holding her in her arms, screaming out her sorrow.

The battle had claimed another victim.

Tengel the Evil summoned his second-in-command, the so-called Number One.

“Has the task been completed?”

“I got the girl. The one called Ellen. She has been eliminated. But he was too strong.”

“Nataniel? What do you mean, too strong?”

“I don’t know. He can’t possibly be an ordinary human.”

“So your men only managed to get hold of one young woman. What kind of fools are you?”

“They have powerful helpers.”

“Rubbish! I have helpers that are much more powerful. What kind of helpers?”

“Storm demons. They are everywhere and are upsetting our plans.”

“I’ve heard about them. They are bothersome. And ungrateful, those pathetic creatures. They had the audacity to refuse to serve me! Send them to the same place where you sent the girl! Ellen, I mean.”

“As you wish, Master.”

Tengel the Evil ended the telepathic conversation. He was satisfied with his first officer. The best he could have chosen!

But now he was annoyed. All the children except one had disappeared, and were hiding in an unknown place, he didn’t understand where. Well, he’d just have to take revenge! He would start on a small scale, one in every house ...

At Linden Avenue he had already managed to do away with the worst of them, Benedikte. Wonderful! Now it was on to the Voldens ...

The only one he encountered there was Hanne, Vetle’s French-born wife. Though she wasn’t one of the Ice People she could still be used as an example to frighten the others.

He did away with her very quickly, didn’t even bother to hide who he was. Although she had been warned, Hanne merely saw a man wearing sunglasses and was unable to defend herself. Since she and Vetle now lived in Jonathan’s house, the others there managed to slip away.

He didn’t bother with Joakim and Karine. His men were already pursuing their son, Gabriel, and they would soon catch him.

But he loathed Nataniel’s parents for having a son like that. His victim was Abel Gard, who tried to drive Tengel the Evil back by holding a Bible in his hand and pronouncing forceful biblical words. He might just as well have waved with a handkerchief. Abel fell to the ground, an innocent victim in this terrible battle.

Rikard and Vinnie managed to escape. Tengel the Evil focused all his concentration on their disobedient daughter, Tova, instead. He would grab her with the greatest glee!

And at Skogsrud he had already taken Ellen, just as he had taken Christel at Mari’s and Ole Jørgen’s.

Ellen, Benedikte, Hanne, Abel, Christel ... that little warning would have to do ... at least for now.

He didn’t seem to think highly of women, Tengel the Evil. Four of the victims were women.

He was very satisfied with the day’s outcome. But he couldn’t feel entirely safe until they were all eliminated. Now he wanted to go north. He, too, wanted to find the place where he had hidden the water of evil, but for different reasons. He wanted to drink from it in order to regain his full power.

Besides, he thought those who were trying to get ahead of him were getting a little too close for comfort.

And now the story will leave everybody else for a moment and concentrate on Tova and her companions.

Because she was the one who would now have to transport the clear water to the Valley of the Ice People. Ellen had disappeared, Nataniel and Gabriel lay helplessly bedridden in Lillehammer Hospital and Marco was fighting his way up the deep gorge of the Gudbrandsdals River while battling Tengel the Evil’s huge bats, which hurled themselves at him from the slopes.