18: Blizzard

Mithrellas and Cassie were scheduled to give their tours on Monday, Shane’s was on Tuesday, while Elrohir and Lily were giving theirs on Wednesday. Jud and Nimrodel were scheduled for Thursday, while Elladan’s tour would be on Friday and Daeron’s on Saturday. Zach, of course, was on the last day. The next few days stayed clear and, at least among the Elves and their immediate friends, there were no major mishaps on any of the tours. The worst that happened was Lily forgetting where the Elf-path to Santa’s Grotto began.

“I was so nervous,” Lily explained as they gathered around their table in the cafeteria eating dinner Wednesday evening. It was now nearly nine o’clock. During this week the cafeteria stayed open late to accommodate those students whose tours did not end until after eight. Lily’s and Elrohir’s groups had both been scheduled to meet with Santa at seven, so their friends delayed eating their own dinners until they could join them and tell them about their day. “My eyes aren’t all that great in the dark, and I couldn’t find the stupid entrance to the Elf-path!” she practically wailed. “I’m sure the evaluator must’ve thought I was losing it. She’s probably going to fail me.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Nimrodel told her roommate, giving her a hug and a smile.

“Did you find it eventually?” Elladan asked but Lily shook her head, still looking morose.

“What did you do?” Glorfindel asked sympathetically.

“I pretended that the reason we couldn’t find the path was because someone in the group did not believe in Santa, that there was an enchantment on it so that not even an elf could find it,” she replied with a rueful smile as the others gave her considering looks. “It was all I could think of to explain why I was having trouble finding the path.”

“That was very clever, though,” Daeron said. “How did your family react to that?”

“Oh, I suspect the parents knew the truth,” Lily answered with a sigh, “and the evaluator as well, but the kids actually believed me, insisting very loudly that they did indeed believe in Santa and maybe one of the grown-ups was the nonbeliever.”

They all chuckled at that.

“So what happened?” Shane asked.

“Just about then, I showed up with my group,” Elrohir told them. “I was surprised to see Lily there running around looking for the path.”

“I was never so happy as when Roy showed up, though,” Lily said, giving them a blush.

“I asked her what was amiss and she told me this story about the path being hidden and why. I knew what she was really trying to say so I played along, reminding her that even though one Elf could not break the enchantment hiding the path, two Elves could if they joined forces. I had everyone in both groups hold hands with Lily right behind me and then started mouthing some elvish-sounding nonsense even as I led them right to the entrance. The children were quite impressed.”

“I’m going to have to find a way to remember where the entrance is from now on,” Lily said with a sigh. “I can’t depend on someone else showing up in the nick of time to help me out the way Roy did.”

“I like the idea of the path being hidden because there’s a nonbeliever in the group, though,” Daeron said. “I think I might incorporate that into my own tour.” The others all nodded.

“So what elvish-sounding nonsense did you spout to find the path?” Elladan asked his twin, giving him a sly look.

Elrohir’s expression turned mischievous. “Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen! Fennas Edhellim, lasto beth lammen!”

“That’s pretty cool,” Jud said. “You’ll have to teach us that so we can use it ourselves.”

The other Mortals all nodded enthusiastically while the Elves hid smiles behind their hands, trying not to laugh. Glorfindel rolled his eyes at Elrohir, but then gave him the ‘okay’ sign, letting him know that he had done the right thing. The younger ellon fairly glowed.

****

It snowed Thursday, but not enough to cancel the tours. However, the clouds stayed and thickened over the next couple of days. By Saturday there was some concern that the next day’s tours would have to be cancelled, for there was heavy snow in the forecast for overnight. Zach was despondent.

“It’s been bad enough having to wait all w-w-week while everyone else has done their tours,” he complained to Glorfindel later that evening as they entered their room after bidding their friends good-night, “but to have to w-wait another day!” He groaned, throwing himself on his bed.

“It may not come to that,” Glorfindel said, trying to comfort him. “You’re going to make yourself sick with needless worry and then where will you be?”

“Every time I look over my plan it seems more and more stupid,” Zach said with a scowl. “I keep wanting to change it but I can’t.” All week long Zach had listened to everyone else describe how they had conducted their tours and now he was obviously feeling that the plans he had made were somewhat inadequate.

“Your plan is perfectly fine as it is,” Glorfindel assured him. “Now, my advice to you is to try and get some sleep. You’re not going to do yourself or your group any good if you show up half dead from lack of sleep.”

“I don’t think I can sleep at all,” Zach confessed with a sigh, though he got up and started getting himself ready for bed. “I have butterflies in my stomach. I just want to get it over with.”

“I know,” Glorfindel said sympathetically. He started softly humming an ancient lullaby as he readied himself for bed as well. He kept it up even after the lights were out. He heard Zach sigh after several minutes went by and then soon after he could tell from Zach’s even breathing that the Mortal was now fast asleep, softly snoring. He smiled to himself as he settled further into his covers and then allowed himself to slip onto the Path of Dreams.

****

Glorfindel woke and saw by the clock that it was not yet six. He climbed out of bed, glad to see Zach still sleeping soundly. Taking a look out the window he saw that the predicted snow had not come, yet deep in his bones he knew a storm was on its way. Eschewing a shower, he slipped into some clothes and made his way quietly out of the room and headed for the foyer. They had been told that if a day’s tours were cancelled a notice to that effect would be posted in the foyer no later than six-thirty. He was not too surprised to see the Twins already there, checking the chalkboard that had been placed on a table against the wall. At the top were the words FINAL EXAM TOURS with the day’s date written beneath. The rest of the board was blank. The Twins were both grimacing as they turned almost as one when they heard him coming.

“There’s a blizzard coming,” Elladan said without preamble.

“I know,” Glorfindel said. “It isn’t six-thirty yet. They may still be checking the forecast to be sure.”

Elrohir gave him a sardonic look. “They should consult us,” he said. “Our weather-sense is more accurate than any of their fancy instruments.”

“True,” Glorfindel averred, “but since they don’t know that we are Elves they have no reason to consult us about the weather, do they?”

“What if they don’t cancel?” Elladan asked, his expression one of concern. “I do not like the idea of Zach or any of the others out there with a blizzard coming, and then what of the families?”

Glorfindel shook his head. “We will just have to accept their decision to hold the tours if they don’t cancel,” he stated. “It’s possible that they will think the blizzard will hold off at least long enough for most of the tours to finish.”

“But you know as well as we that the worst of the storm will hit us by mid-afternoon,” Elrohir retorted.

Glorfindel gave them a helpless shrug, having no answer.

As six-thirty approached, other students began making their way to the foyer to check the chalkboard. They huddled in groups, speaking softly, alternately glancing at the clock to check the time and out the window to check the weather. At six-twenty-five, a car pulled up and Glorfindel saw Roland Smith climbing out and heading their way. He went to the door to let the man in. Smith nodded his thanks but did not speak, stamping the snow off his boots and removing his gloves as he walked to the chalkboard. There was absolute silence as he picked up some chalk and scrawled the words ‘AS SCHEDULED’ across the board.

There was a collective sigh of relief from the other students who started heading back to their rooms, all of them smiling, and Glorfindel realized that these children were as anxious to get their tour over with as Zach was. They must have resented being the last group to go, though logically speaking, someone had to be last.

Elladan went over to Smith as the man put the chalk down. “Are you sure it’s wise?” he asked softly. “There’s a storm coming.”

“But not until later this evening,” Smith said. “We consulted the meteorologists at Fairbanks and even the guys at NORAD and they all assured us that nothing will happen before six or so. Most of the tours will be done by then and if we have to we’ll cancel the Santa visits for the last groups and reschedule them for later.”

Elladan was about to protest, but Glorfindel put a hand on the ellon’s shoulder to get his attention and shook his head. “I’ll go tell Zach the good news,” he said with a grim smile and the Twins snorted in disgust.

Zach was still sleeping when Glorfindel returned to their room. He bent down and gently shook him awake. “You need to get ready,” the Elf said quietly when Zach opened bleary eyes. “It looks as if today’s schedule still holds.”

The Mortal fairly leaped from his bed to look out the window and then he grabbed his bathrobe and rushed off to take a shower. Glorfindel smiled and took the liberty of getting out Zach’s Elf Guide outfit so that it was ready for when the young man returned. Once Zach was dressed the two of them made their way to the cafeteria even though Zach insisted he was too nervous to eat anything. Glorfindel, however, was just as insistent that he eat something.

“It’s going to be a long day and you should have something on your stomach before you venture out into the cold,” he told the Mortal as he steered him towards the cafeteria. “At the very least have some tea or coffee and some toast. The vans won’t be here for another hour anyway, so you might as well sit and relax.”

Surprisingly, at least to Zach if not to Glorfindel, all the other Elves and their friends were waiting for them in the cafeteria to wish Zach good luck with his tour. They sat around the table, reminding him of all the things not to do while he munched on some dry toast and drank cocoa. He mentioned his fear that he would start stuttering badly again because he was so nervous.

“You’re going to do fine,” Daeron assured him with a smile. “Just speak slowly and carefully and remember everything I taught you.”

Zach nodded and then it was time for him to leave. Everyone accompanied him down to the foyer and waved encouragingly as he headed outside to find his driver.

“I hope he does okay,” Shane said as they stood before the foyer window overlooking the parking lot and watched Zach climb into a van belonging to the Arctic Village Holiday Resort. “I know he’s been very nervous about this all week, more so than the rest of us.”

“He’ll do just fine,” Glorfindel said with as much confidence as he could muster, “but it wouldn’t hurt to keep our fingers crossed.” He glanced upward. “I don’t like the look of the sky. Something tells me that we’re in for a real blow sometime today.”

The other Elves nodded, knowing that Glorfindel’s words were very true.

 “Let’s hope it holds off until everyone is safely back,” Jud said. “When does Zach have his family meet with Santa?”

“He’s scheduled for five o’clock,” Glorfindel said.

“Hmm.... not early but not late,” Daeron muttered.

“So, with any amount of luck, he’ll be back here by around six-thirty,” Lily opined.

“And all we have to do is wait,” Nimrodel said somewhat grimly, taking one of Mithrellas’ hands and clenching it, her eyes darkening with memories of her own experiences of being lost in mountain storms. Only the other Elves understood what she must be feeling.

“I hate waiting,” Lily replied with a sigh.

No one bothered to comment on that, for they all felt the same way.

****

The morning dragged for them all. Glorfindel tried to keep himself from worrying about Zach by writing the next installment of his ‘Letter to Finrod’. When ships still sailed to Valinor he would periodically ask someone who was leaving Middle-earth to convey some letters he had written to his gwador, describing all that was happening to him. He gave Círdan a final bundle of letters to take with him when that ancient Sinda boarded the Last Ship. And even though he had no means of sending any more letters to Finrod the habit remained and he now had a large collection of unsent missives carefully stored away in a safety deposit box. He doubted that his gwador would ever read a single word, but he found some comfort in writing out his thoughts and feelings in this manner. Addressing his thoughts to Finrod made it seem less like a diary or journal and more like an intimate communication between friends and heart-brothers even though it was only one-sided.

Now, however, he had trouble putting any thoughts down and after a time he simply gave up and went to see what others were doing. He stopped first at the Twins’ room to find Daeron and Jud already there, the four of them playing penny-ante poker. They had no idea where the ellith were or where the rest of their friends had gone to.

The ancient minstrel took a glance out the window and frowned. “It’s started to snow,” he commented unnecessarily, for they could all see that it was so.

“Maybe it’ll just be a few flakes,” Jud opined, though he did not seem very confident in his pronouncement.

“We can only hope,” Glorfindel replied, then sat down on the edge of Elrohir’s bed and waited until the next deal to play with Daeron lending him some pennies.

****

Cassie and Matt, being used to arctic travel, had braved the weather and joined them for lunch. It was a quiet affair as Glorfindel and the others gathered in the cafeteria, none of them very hungry, all of them continuously glancing out the windows at the snow falling. It had ceased to be a few flakes an hour ago and it was now coming down hard enough that even the Elves had difficulty seeing anything through it.

“I know Zach will be disappointed and feeling cheated that he won’t be able to finish his tour,” Elladan said at one point when they were discussing whether the tours would be called off.

“Most likely,” Glorfindel replied, “but he will be evaluated on what was accomplished in the tour up to the point where it’s cancelled and as long as he has shown the evaluator competence in what he was able to do, he’ll pass with no problem.”

“They may reschedule part of the tours,” Cassie said. “The kids will be really disappointed not to meet Santa. I’m sure they’ll try to make it up to them if they can’t see him today.”

Everyone nodded.

“I wish there were some way to know for sure if Zach and the others are okay,” Lily said.

“Why don’t we all go over to the Grange Hall after we’ve had lunch?” Glorfindel suggested. “The snowfall isn’t so bad yet that we can’t drive there. All the tours have to return there anyway and we can be there when Zach comes.”

Everyone thought that was a good idea. Appetites suddenly reappeared and they ate with more enthusiasm. Half an hour later they were heading for the van while Cassie and Matt went to their own cars. As he was pulling out, Glorfindel saw Evan and Maggie struggling through a drift. He stopped and rolled down the window.

“Evan!” he shouted.

The two Mortals made their way over. “Jen and Chloe are out in this,” Evan said by way of greeting.

“Get in,” Glorfindel said with a jerk of his head even as he rolled his window back up and the two climbed in. He noticed with approval that both Cassie and Matt had stopped to offer lifts to other students who apparently had had the same idea as they to go to the Grange Hall. The road was slick with snow which had not yet been plowed and the going was slow but Glorfindel got them there without much trouble.

“Hey, look!” Elrohir called out. “Some of the vans are back already.”

They could see that at least three tour vans were parked in front of the Hall and a fourth was turning into the parking lot just ahead of them.

“Let’s hope the others get back as well,” Daeron said grimly.

Inside the Hall there was utter chaos. A great number of other students, perhaps having come into town earlier for whatever reason, were there, looking anxious. Townspeople were there as well and Glorfindel thought perhaps these might be friends and neighbors of those families still out in the storm. He caught sight of the Michaelsons and went over to greet them, bringing the others along.

“One of our neighbors was doing the tour today,” Dave told him after quick introductions were made. “She’s a single mom. Husband just up and walked out on her and their four kids without looking back.” He gave them a disgusted look.

“We’ve sort of adopted them,” Janna went on to explain, her expression more anxious for the safety of their friends. “Nicole’s kids and ours play together all the time.”

Kevin and the twins all nodded, their expressions ones of distress and worry.

Something rang a bell in Glorfindel’s mind at the mention of Nicole’s name. “Would that be Nicole Lord?”

Dave and Janna gave him a surprised look. “Why yes, it is?” Janna replied. “But how did you know?”

“My roommate, Zach, was assigned to guide your neighbor and her children,” Glorfindel said. He glanced around. By now more people, both townspeople and students, were streaming into the Hall looking for friends. He saw Marian with Deirdre, Roland Smith and Paul Pettingill off to one side apparently having an argument. “Come,” he said to everyone, “I want to find out what’s happening.”

They made their way across the floor and Glorfindel could see the angry look on Pettingill’s face even as he heard the last part of the man’s words to the other instructors. “....warn you not to hold the tours today?”

“Paul,” Glorfindel said as he sidled up to the ranger.

Pettingill blew out a breath and gave him a nod of acknowledgment. “Loren.”

“You were against the tours being held?” Glorfindel asked, stealing a glance at Roland Smith who looked, if anything, mutinous, as if the weather and everyone else were involved in a conspiracy against him.

Pettingill nodded, looking grim. “Any fool who can read the signs would know there was a major storm coming.”

“Fairbanks said it wouldn’t hit us until around six or so,” Smith protested.

“Bah!” Pettingill exclaimed in disgust. “With all their fancy-dancy equipment, they’re still wrong half the time. Nature doesn’t lie. I warned you as early as Friday that the tours should not be held today.”

Glorfindel and the other Elves exchanged considering looks and their estimation of the ranger went up several notches. Glorfindel turned to Marian. “I see four, no five, students back,” he said nodding to where another student in an Elf Guide outfit was herding her charges into the Hall. A table had been hastily set up to one side where hot drinks and snacks were being distributed. “Where are the others?”

“That’s what we’re trying to determine,” Pettingill answered before Marian could open her mouth. “I’ve got my rangers contacting all the resorts and safari companies. Ah, here’s Francine.”

They turned to see Ranger Doran approaching with a clipboard in one hand. She gave them a nod in greeting then without preamble began her report to Pettingill. “We’ve got seven tours holed up over by Chandalar,” she said, glancing at her clipboard. “They’re with the Lightfoots. Lucy says Max is out with a sleigh rounding up strays. Based on the information Ms Goodfellow gave us as to where various tours were scheduled to be at this hour, there should be another tour making its way to the Lightfoot farm. Lucy will call as soon as she has confirmation.”

“So that takes care of twelve, possibly thirteen tours,” Pettingill said. “Go on.”

Doran glanced at her clipboard again. “Mount Horace reports three tours there, and Arctic Village has another two. I’ve got the names of the students in each group.”

“Is one of them Zachary Austin?” Glorfindel asked, hoping against hope.

Francine glanced down the page on her clipboard, checking all the names and shook her head. “Sorry, no.”

“Hey, there’s Chloe!” Evan suddenly yelled out and started calling the young woman’s name.

Chloe came over looking half frozen but gave them a brave smile. “Thought we would never get back,” she said by way of greeting. “We found another van stuck in a drift and everyone got out and pushed.”

“Who was in the other van?” Glorfindel asked.

“Kelsey,” Chloe replied. “She looked absolutely terrified. She’s from Southern California and she’s never been in a blizzard before.”

“So that’s another two groups accounted for,” Marian said with a sigh. “That makes nineteen, maybe twenty, if Max Lightfoot found the other group.”

“That still leaves sixteen groups unaccounted for,” Daeron said softly, “including Zach’s.”

Pettingill turned to Doran. “Anything else?”

“Rainbow Lake says that they had three groups over there for lunch and they all set out about the same time in spite of the fact that the manager begged them to remain at the lodge. He has no idea where they were heading.”

There were grim looks all around. “Hopefully, they did not go too far and have turned back,” Pettingill stated. “What about the other resorts?”

“No word from them,” Doran answered. “Lines might be down in places.”

“They all have shortwave,” Pettingill said. “Contact them that way,” he ordered and Doran saluted and headed away, handing her clipboard to her superior. Pettingill turned to the others. “All right. Let’s get more organized.” He called out for attention, his voice ringing through the Hall and voices quieted to listen. “I need every student who was giving a tour today to come to me and report in. Someone stand by the doors and when other groups come in direct them to me. We need to know who’s where.”

Six students made their way to where Pettingill was and gave him their names, assuring him that everyone in their group was accounted for. Chloe did the same. Three other students came in with their groups, all of them looking half frozen, reporting to Pettingill who had moved to a table that Glorfindel and Daeron had commandeered and set up in the middle of the room. Francine Doran showed up in the meantime and told them that Max had found the eighth tour group and the three that had left Rainbow Lake were now back there. She handed him the list of students’ names.

“That leaves ten groups still missing,” Glorfindel said. He glanced over the list of students’ names and where they were located that the ranger had written out. He saw that Jen was safe with the Lightfoots and there were others he knew, but Zach’s name was not on the list. By now the Hall was nearly filled to capacity with townspeople and college students all wondering where their friends were. Marian managed to find a large chalkboard from somewhere which she had brought in. Cassie offered to copy out the information from Pettingill’s list so everyone could see.

It was now fully dark, made more so because of the storm. Some of the families had decided to return to their homes but most still lingered about, including the Michaelsons. Glorfindel and the other Elves stood stoically to one side waiting for news of Zach while their Mortal friends fidgeted, their sense of worry increasing with every passing minute. During the next hour all the remaining tours reported in safe, all but one.

“Zach is still out there,” Jud said as Cassie recorded the thirty-fifth tour group’s name on the chalkboard. “Where is he?”

Glorfindel came to a grim decision. The idea had been building inside him during the interminable wait. Now that all but Zach’s group were accounted for, he had no reason to sit around any longer. He turned to the other Elves. “Tôl hi i-lû,” he said gravely. “Tirathan am mellon vîn anim.”

“Govedinc gen,” Elrohir said and Elladan nodded.

“We all will go, my Lord Glorfindel,” Daeron said formally, though speaking English, and the two ellith nodded.

“What are you talking about?” Pettingill demanded angrily. “No one is going anywhere in this. And what’s all this ‘lord’ business?”

Glorfindel ignored him. “Daeron, we’re going to need more blankets than what I have in my van.”

“At once, my lord,” the minstrel said and ran off.

Glorfindel was already turning to the next item on his mental list. “Nimrodel, you and Mithrellas find some thermoses and fill them with hot sweetened tea. It won’t be miruvor but it will have to do.”

“How many should we bring?” Nimrodel asked.

“As many as there are people in Zach’s group,” came the answer and the two ellith nodded.

“I brought a thermos along for my group,” Chloe said.

“Let’s go see if the other students did the same,” Nimrodel said and she and Mithrellas went off with Chloe to check.

“You’re not really intending on going out in this, are you?” Marian demanded. “That’s insane.”

Glorfindel ignored her, turning his attention to Pettingill. “We need to determine the last place Zach’s group was sighted and then extrapolate from that which way they would have headed.”

“Marian’s right,” the ranger stated firmly, ignoring Glorfindel’s request. “It’s not fit for man or beast out there. You don’t stand a chance of finding them.”

“But then, I’m not a Man,” Glorfindel replied with a wry grin and proceeded to do something he had not done in centuries — he pulled back his hair, revealing the leaf-shaped ears, and began putting his golden locks into braids. There were gasps from the Mortals around him. Elladan and Elrohir saw what Glorfindel was doing and began braiding their own hair, revealing the pointed tips of their ears.

“Who... what are you?” Marian asked faintly.

Glorfindel gave her a cool stare as he continued braiding his hair. “You wanted Elves, Marian. Well, you’ve got them.”

“Is this a joke?” Pettingill demanded angrily, confusion written all over him. “There aren’t any such things as elves.”

Glorfindel gave the ranger a sympathetic look. “No, Paul. This is no joke. We are the Eldar, what you call Elves, the Firstborn of the Children of Eru, as you Mortals are the Secondborn.”

“Yo-you guys are really for real?” Jud asked, his eyes wide as he watched Daeron come up loaded with several blankets, obviously re-evaluating his relationship with his roommate.

“Yes,” Glorfindel said shortly.

“And that’s not Welsh you’re speaking,” Shane put in.

Glorfindel shook his head.

“If... if Elves are for real,” Kevin Michaelson then asked, looking both fearful and hopeful at the same time, “does that mean Santa is, too?”

The adults gave each other uncertain looks, not sure how to respond to the child. Janna gave her son a hug and a smile. “I guess so, honey,” she answered and now Kevin’s expression was more thoughtful.

Daeron dropped his bundle of blankets and saw the warrior braids on the other three ellyn while all the Mortals around them stared at them in disbelief. By now others in the Hall were beginning to realize that something important was happening though they did not know what. Conversations were quieting down and many were making their way towards their group. Daeron gave Glorfindel a sardonic look. “Are we hunting orcs, my lord, or looking for lost children?”

Glorfindel gave a shrug. “I just don’t fancy having my hair blowing in my eyes,” he answered.

Daeron nodded and started braiding his own hair, though only in a single back braid, for he had never earned the warrior braids that the other three ellyn were now sporting. Nimrodel and Mithrellas came up just then with Chloe who stopped in surprise at the sight of the four ellyn. The ellith gave Glorfindel significant looks and Glorfindel just shrugged as he finished with the last braid. He glanced around and noticed the Michaelson children staring up at him in awe and wonder, in complete contrast to the expressions of disbelief and perhaps even fear that he saw among many of the adults. Their friends seemed unsure how to react, but he suspected that in the end they would accept them for themselves.

“Paul, where were they last seen?” he asked the ranger.

Pettingill started and blinked a couple of times, trying to gather his thoughts together. He rifled through a set of papers which were the plans each student had submitted. He pulled one out of the stack and gave it a glance. “The weather started turning sour about one o’clock, but most groups were still out in it until two-thirty. According to this plan, Austin’s group should have reached Lookout Safari’s husky farm by one-thirty. They were scheduled to be there for about an hour and a half before heading for the grotto with an intermediate stop at the Steiner Farm for some hot cocoa and cookies.”

Glorfindel nodded, well aware of the details of Zach’s plan but wanting confirmation. “Can you contact Lookout Safaris and see if they were there? And the Steiner Farm as well.”

Pettingill nodded and called to Ranger Doran, giving her orders to contact the safari company. Five minutes later she was reporting her findings. “They did indeed reach Lookout,” she told them, “but they cut the sledding short according to the manager because of the weather. They were only there for about an hour. The manager says he tried to convince them to stick around but the evaluator nixed the idea, said they were going back to Wiseman. That was almost two hours ago.”

“What about Steiner’s?” Glorfindel asked.

Doran shook her head. “They never made it that far.”

“They must have gotten stuck somewhere,” Daeron offered. “What’s the most direct route from Lookout to Wiseman assuming they decided not to stop at Steiner’s but decided to come directly here?”

Pettingill pulled out a map from his coat pocket, one that was creased and worn and obviously had had much use. He flattened it out on the table and everyone gathered around. “Lookout is here down by Bettles.” He pointed to the southwest of Wiseman. “If they were heading for Wiseman they would have had to cross both the Middle and South Forks of the Koyukuk to reach the James Dalton Highway. The road is unpaved and chancy in bad weather.”

Elrohir pointed at the map to a spot closer to Wiseman. “The Steiner Farm is here. If I remember correctly, somewhere before you get to the farm is the road that leads to Santa’s Grotto from the south.” They all nodded at that. There were actually two roads to the grotto, one from the south and one from the north. Zach’s group would have had to double back after visiting the Steiner Farm but it would have only been a slight detour.

“That would certainly be closer than Wiseman or even Steiner’s,” Daeron pointed out. “Once at the grotto they would have shelter, warmth and food.”

“That road is also more protected from the weather than the main highway,” Elladan added. “They may have decided to skip Steiner’s altogether and go directly to the grotto, especially if the main road was proving impassible.”

“We’ll have to make our way in that direction then and hope we spot them along the way,” Glorfindel said. “We’ll need torches. Without the stars to guide us we’re going to be as blind as any Mortal.”

“I’m coming with you,” Pettingill stated firmly.

“You’ll only slow us down,” Glorfindel said as he took off his coat and grabbed a couple of the blankets, wrapping a thermos into them and tying them with cord that Elladan had found, strapping the whole on his back. The others were doing the same. Elrohir had gone to the van and retrieved Glorfindel’s first aid kit as well and Nimrodel was attaching it to Glorfindel’s pack, making sure it was secure. Torches were found and batteries checked.

All the Mortals just stared at the six Elves as they prepared themselves to venture out into the blizzard. “What are you going to do?” Shane asked them. “It’s going to be rather awkward driving with those packs on your back, assuming you can even get out of the parking lot.”

Glorfindel gave her a wide smile. “We won’t be driving,” he answered and then with a nod to the others he headed for the doors, the Mortals stepping back to give them room. “But you can’t go out there without coats,” Marian protested. “You’ll freeze to death.”

Glorfindel just smiled. “No, Marian, we will not.” Then he saw the Michaelson children huddled around their parents. He knelt down and gestured for them to come to him. “Fear not! We will return with your friends. I give you my word.”

“And when an Elf-lord gives his word, he means it,” Daeron said with a faint smile to the children. “Only death will stop him from fulfilling his oath.”

“And sometimes not even then,” Glorfindel retorted, giving the children a smile and a wink.

“You can’t go out in this,” Pettingill protested one last time. “You’ll never survive the cold.”

“I’ve survived much worse in my time,” Glorfindel assured him as he stood up and then he addressed the other Elves. “We’ll take it at a steady pace,” he instructed. “Daeron, you’re with me. Nimrodel, Mithrellas, you’re in the middle. Elladan and Elrohir will bring up the rear.” Then he and the others stepped outside. They paused for a moment to get their bearings and Glorfindel pointed towards the south. They all nodded and then they were off, running lightly and swiftly on top of the snow while the Mortals huddled around the doorway and windows, watching in wonder and disbelief until the Elves were swallowed up by the storm.

****

Words are Sindarin.

Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen! Fennas Edhellim, lasto beth lammen!: ‘Elvish gate, open now for us! Doorway of the Elven-folk, listen to the word of my tongue’. The attentive reader will recognize this as Gandalf’s door-spell before the West Gate of Moria. For obvious reasons I have altered it slightly.

Tôl hi i-lû: ‘Comes now the time’.

Tirathan am mellon vîn anim: ‘I will look for our friend myself’.

Govedinc gen: ‘We (inclusive) go with you’.