69: Rescue Operation

Finlay finally reached the tarn to find the Elves frantically chipping at the ice using arrowheads.

“What the hell happened?” he cried as he reached them. “Where’re Meriwether and Farrell?”

“Where do you think?” Glorfindel snarled. “Don’t just stand there. Give us a hand.”

Finlay stared at the ice and the Elves chipping away at it and a sense of horror washed over him like a black wave. Then he pulled himself together and brought out one of his guns and clipped in a magazine. “Right. Get back all of you,” he ordered as he aimed the gun at the ice. When the Elves realized what he intended they began to scramble but Finlay never fired a shot.

Almost at the same time, a brilliant white light blinded them all and when they could see again, they found themselves staring up at a Maia who stood almost twice the height of the tallest Elves. It was Eönwë, though Finlay would not know that. He just stood there gaping at the apparition while the Elves all started bowing, but the Herald of Manwë ignored them all as he pulled his sword of light out of its scabbard and raised it two-handed above his head.

Finrod was the first to realize their danger. “Off the ice! Move!” he screamed and he grabbed Glorfindel by an arm and hauled him along, everyone else scrambling to follow. “Move, move!” Finrod continued yelling and Finlay found himself turning and running until he was several feet from the tarn before he stopped and looked back. The Elves gathered around him.

Seemingly in slow motion, Eönwë brought his sword down and when it touched the ice, there was a loud crack and the ground actually shifted as if experiencing a quake, forcing most of the Elves and Finlay to their knees. The sword, easily as long as the Maia was tall, sank into the ice like a hot knife into butter and even as it opened up a hole, there was another flash of light and another Maia appeared, just as tall as Eönwë, wearing the harp emblem of the Lady Estë on her surcoat.

She knelt on the ice and reached through the crack in the ice that Eönwë had made, his sword still in the water, preventing the ice from reforming, the water bubbling and steaming as if it were a hot spring. She seemed to know just where to look, for a moment later she withdrew her arm and in her hand were two figures, their bodies locked in an embrace of death.

The Maia stood and walked to the shore, gently laying the bodies on the ground, then disentangling them. She bent down and breathed into Farrell’s mouth and then did the same with Alex. Even from where they were standing, Finlay and the Elves could see the blueness of their skin turning rosy pink and both began to breathe, spewing water out of their lungs.

Eönwë, meanwhile, had withdrawn his sword, returning it to its scabbard. Almost at once the ice reformed. The other Maia stood, gazing lovingly down upon them all and then the two were gone as if they’d never been. For a second or two, everyone just stood there, gaping, then Glorfindel began running toward where Alex and Farrell lay, shouting orders.

“Get a fire started. Someone help me get their clothes off before they freeze again. Do we have something to wrap them in?”

“We can strip,” Vorondur said, and followed words with action, removing his clothes until he was standing only in his briefs. Aldarion did the same. Elrohir and Elladan were checking the two Men out, helping Glorfindel and Finrod to strip them of their wet clothes and re-clothing them.

Finlay just goggled. “Ah, won’t you two freeze your… er…”

“We’re Elves, Edward,” Vorondur said with a grin. “We don’t suffer the cold as you do and as soon as some of their clothes dry, we’ll switch. The important thing right now is to get them off this mountain and to the hospital as quickly as we can.”

“Too bad there’s no med-evac this time around,” Glorfindel said.

“But who needs that when we’re here?” Elladan retorted. “Okay, they’re both stable, but we need them to be warmer. How’s that fire coming along?”

“It’s coming,” Legolas of Gondolin called out. “Bring them over here.”

The Twins each took one of the Men and lifted him into his arms, carrying them easily to where several Elves had cleared a space for a fire. Glorfindel and Finrod both removed their coats and handed them to Vorondur and Aldarion. Finrod had exchanged his cloak for the coat so as to blend in better with everyone else.

“You may not freeze but you look ridiculous standing about in your unmentionables,” Glorfindel said with a grin. Both Vorondur and Aldarion chuckled as they accepted the coats. “Finlay, help me with these clothes. We need to get them dry or at least dryer.” He bent down to gather up Alex’s wet things and Finlay did the same with Farrell’s and together they joined the others around the now blazing fire, larger than they normally would make it, but needing the heat for the Mortals.

“How are they?” Finrod asked Elladan.

“Alive, but that’s about all I can tell you,” the elder twin replied. “They’re both comatose and only Eru knows if they will ever fully recover.”

“I do not think the Maiar would have been sent to rescue them and breathe life into them if they were not meant to recover,” Finrod pointed out.

“Where’s the girl, though?” Finlay asked. “Any sign of her?”

“None,” Glorfindel answered grimly. “We arrived just in time to see these two fall through the ice but by the time we reached the tarn the ice had already reformed. Check Farrell’s pockets. Maybe there’s a clue somewhere.”

Mithlas happened to be laying out the clothes to dry and rummaged through all the pockets of Farrell’s clothes, pulling out a wallet, a gun and a smartphone. He handed the latter up to Glorfindel.

“It probably won’t work, but…” He pressed the button to turn on the phone and for a moment nothing happened and then the phone’s homepage appeared.

“There’s no way you’re getting a signal out here, mate,” Finlay said.

“No,” Glorfindel agreed, “but there should be a record of calls. When we get off the mountain we can take this to the police and have them trace the most recent numbers.” He shut down the phone and stowed it into a pants’ pocket. “Until Farrell recovers, if he ever does, and tells us where he’s got her, it’s the best we can do.”

“Edrahil, Haldir, we need to make a couple of travois to transport these two,” Finrod said. “Break up into teams. Let’s see who is the fastest.”

There was laughter all around and the Elves, speaking in a mix of Sindarin and Quenya, quickly broke into two groups and ran off into the woods lower down the mountain, leaving only the Twins, Glorfindel and Finrod and the three Mortals to themselves. Glorfindel gave Finrod a knowing smile.

“Good idea. Keeps them busy,” he said and then called after Finlay who had stepped away from the fire, finding it too warm. “Edward, stay close to the fire. Don’t wander off. Already the temperatures have dropped below zero.” He turned back to Finrod. “We may have to wait until morning before we risk moving Alex and Farrell. Even wrapped up in every coat we have I doubt those two would make it down alive nor will Edward.”

“Hey! I can take care of myself,” Finlay protested.

“No doubt,” Glorfindel said, “but the trail down is treacherous even in daylight. At night, with the temperatures plunging into the minuses, it’s going to be hard enough to keep you all alive with this fire going.”

“Speaking of which, we’ll need more wood soon,” Elrohir said.

“Stay here and keep an eye on your charges,” Glorfindel said. “Finrod and I will get the wood. Stay here, Edward.” With that he and Finrod left the circle of the fire and made their way back down the trail to where the trees were. They could hear the cheerful banter of the other Elves as they gathered the necessary materials to make the travois. Glorfindel and Finrod encountered them as they were hauling their finds up the trail.

“We need more wood for the fire,” Glorfindel said. “We’re staying the night.”

Immediately, three of the Elves handed their haul to others and joined Glorfindel and Finrod in gathering sufficient wood to last through most of the night.

“Let us hope there is no storm, or I doubt if any of us will survive the night,” Finrod said quietly.

“If the Valar mean for us to survive, they can bloody well see to it that we do,” Glorfindel muttered angrily as he hefted a fallen tree branch into his arms. “We’ll do our part and they can do theirs.”

There was nothing more to say to that and they gathered the rest of the wood in silence. When they returned to the fire, they discovered several of the Elves in the process of building a wall of snow around the fire, just far enough out so as to be unaffected by the heat.

“What’s this?” Glorfindel asked Mithlas whom they encountered first.

“Dan’s idea,” the Sinda replied. “It’s a wind break. We’ll leave one opening so people can go outside the perimeter to relieve themselves or to go gather more wood if needed.”

“Good idea. There’s certainly enough snow. Make a privy just to one side of the opening so Finlay doesn’t have to travel far. He wouldn’t last five minutes in this cold.”

Mithlas nodded and went back to work, while Glorfindel, Finrod and the other wood-haulers continued on to the fire, piling the wood to one side.

“Any change?” Glorfindel asked the Twins.

“They’re still comatose, but Alex actually came to for a second, opened his eyes, though I doubt he saw us. He whispered ‘atar’ and then became unconscious again.”

“Hmm…. that’s interesting,” Glorfindel said.

“You don’t think—?” Finrod started to say, but Glorfindel shook his head.

“I don’t know what to think at this point,” he admitted, “but I certainly have my suspicions. I have to wonder who gave the order for the Maiar to come to the rescue.” He gave Finrod a significant look and the other Elf nodded in understanding.

Then Finrod retrieved his bow and quiver of arrows, which he had put down to go gather wood.

“Where are you going?”

“Hunting, of course. There’re bound to be rabbits at least further down the trail. We can at least have something hot to eat, especially Edward.”

“Now if we’d been thinking we would’ve gotten some snacks at the gas station,” Elrohir said with a cheeky grin. “But no, you were in a hurry.”

“So sue me,” Glorfindel said with a sneer. “Alright, everyone, empty your pockets. Let’s see if anyone’s been hoarding goodies from the rest of us.”

There was amused laughter from the Elves as they complied with Glorfindel’s orders. Most of them came up empty. Prince Legolas had an oatmeal-and-honey energy bar and Elladan pulled out a packet of spearmint gum. Finlay proved to have the largest haul with a small bag of M&Ms and two packets of Hersey’s Special Dark chocolate.

He handed them over to Glorfindel sheepishly, saying, “I used to dream of chocolate stuck in the damn Inuit village.”

“We’ll reimburse you,” Glorfindel said kindly.

Finlay waved a hand in dismissal. “I can get more. Don’t worry about it, though how any of this will help us, I don’t know.”

“It probably won’t but you never know. Thanks. Okay, Finrod and I are going hunting. Someone whittle some sticks for us to spear the meat with in the meantime. Edward, for your own safety, don’t wander away from here. If you need to relieve yourself, Mick is building a makeshift privy right next to the entrance. And that goes for everyone else. This mountain is dangerous and you know why. It would be better for all of us if we could leave but that’s not going to happen before morning. If you need to step out, take a partner. I don’t want anyone outside this perimeter alone. Ron, you and Liam are in charge until we get back.”

Finrod grinned at Vorondur. “Too bad I do not have my cloak with me. I could have loaned it to you and you could be Captain Underpants.”

There was absolutely dead silence throughout the camp as everyone stared at Finrod in disbelief.

“Excuse me,” Vorondur said. “Captain who?”

“Er… Captain Underpants. It is a series of children’s books about two children who hypnotize the principal of their school into believing he’s a superhero called Captain Underpants, because he wears underpants and a red cape with black polka-dots and….um….”

Finrod looked at the carefully blank faces of the Elves around him and thought perhaps he had made a social blunder. Elrohir and Elladan, however, were both smiling rather evilly as they glanced at Vorondur.

“Don’t even think it, you two,” Vorondur threatened, but the Twins merely smirked.

Glorfindel rolled his eyes and grabbed Finrod by the elbow. “C’mon, Bookstore Boy, let’s go find us some rabbits.”

“Bookstore Boy?” Finrod exclaimed. “Who are you calling Bookstore Boy?”

Glorfindel stuck out his tongue and made a rude noise, which set everyone laughing as he and Finrod passed through the doorway of the snow wall and headed back down the trail, exchanging insults. Once under the trees, though, they stopped their bantering. Glorfindel closed his eyes, concentrating on sensing the life all around them. “Have you noticed that no animal seems to come any closer to the tarn than here?” he whispered to Finrod. “In the two years we’ve been here and as often as I’ve visited the tarn, I have never seen any trace of any animal approaching it to drink. All tracks stop right about here.”

“Do you wonder why, given what we know?”

“True. Sorry, I guess I was just thinking aloud. We need to move further down.” They headed down the trail until they were deeper in the woods. With preternatural ease they flitted silently between the trees, arrows at the ready, alert for any sign of life. They had not traveled far when several things seemed to happen at once. Glorfindel spied a large rabbit hopping through the snow and took aim just as Finrod hissed a warning. Looking to where Finrod was pointing, he saw a grey wolf sitting on its haunches staring at them.

“Uh oh,” was all Glorfindel could say at the sight, as he glanced around. “Where did he come from and where’s the pack?”

As if in answer, the wolf stood and set off down the trail, stopping to look over its shoulders as if to say, ‘Well, are you coming?’ When neither Elf moved, the wolf returned, circling them. Both Elves turned to face the animal which now began to stalk them, giving a soft growl. The Elves stepped back several paces and the wolf continued forward, seemingly urging them on.

“I don’t think this is an ordinary timberwolf,” Glorfindel replied as he and Finrod continued stepping back.

“You got that impression, too, did you?” Finrod retorted, flashing him a smile.

Glorfindel stopped and so did Finrod. The wolf growled. Glorfindel bowed, stepping to his left and sweeping his arm forward. “After you, Sir Wolf. We will follow.”

The wolf seemed to consider this and then calmly trotted past the Elves. Finrod gave Glorfindel a wry look and they followed the wolf down until they reached the fall of rocks that nearly blocked the trail. Lying across the lower course of the rocks was the body of a large buck, its blood black against the snow. The wolf sat on its haunches next to the carcass, its tongue out, its eyes seemingly bright with intelligence and amusement as the two Elves stared at the buck.

“For us?” Glorfindel said to the wolf. “Really, you shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t be such a goose, you goose,” Finrod said with a roll of his eyes. Then, he bowed politely to the wolf. “We thank you for this gift, my lord.”

The wolf considered this, giving a short yelp, as if to say, ‘You’re welcome’ before it leapt over the body of the buck and nimbly climbed the rock fall, but instead of moving down the other side, it continued climbing into the sky before simply fading into the darkness. For a moment the Elves stood there staring up in disbelief and then Glorfindel gave himself a shake. “Let’s get this meat back to base.” Finrod only nodded and soon they were hauling the carcass back up the trail to the tarn.

When they arrived, there were exclamations of surprise at the buck and everyone demanded to hear the story. Finlay listened in disbelief, yet the Elves all nodded sagely and began putting forth theories as to whether it was a Maia or perhaps Lord Oromë himself who had appeared to Glorfindel and Finrod as they set about dressing the meat, skewering it on sticks to cook. Alex and Farrell continued to remain comatose, but Elladan assured them that both were breathing normally and all their vitals appeared normal. “The sooner we get them to the hospital, though, the better.”

“One thing at a time,” Glorfindel said. “It would be great if they woke so we can feed them before we set off. Too bad we have nothing for making broth in.”

“It cannot be helped,” Finrod said philosophically. “Let us be grateful for what we do have.”

“Amen to that,” Vorondur said, joining the conversation. He was dressed in his own clothes again, as was Aldarion, for by this time Alex’s and Farrell’s clothes had dried enough to be worn. Both Men were lying on the travois which had been constructed for them, as near to the fire as was safe, each wrapped in a couple of coats. Vorondur lowered his voice. “Finlay is beginning to panic. Oh, he looks calm enough, but trust me, his heart rate’s gone up in the last half hour and he can’t settle. He keeps pacing the perimeter and muttering in more than one language. We need to distract him, help keep his mind off things.”

“Any suggestions?” Glorfindel asked.

Vorondur gave them a grin. “Well, we have a campfire and what do we do around a campfire?”

“Sing and tell tales,” Finrod answered.

“Hmph. That’s easy enough to do,” Glorfindel said. He raised his voice so all could hear. “Well, we’ll soon have dinner ready. Anyone for singing and telling stories around the campfire?”

There were shouts of approval from the Elves. Glorfindel called Finlay over. “You’re in for a treat, Edward.”

Almost at once, someone raised his voice and began singing a hymn to Elbereth and soon all the other Elves joined in. Glorfindel glanced at Finlay staring wide-eyed at them all, a look of wonder on his face as the Elves raised their ethereal voices to the sky. After that, Mithlas began singing the Leithian, the story of Beren and Lúthien. He got through the first canto and Aldarion picked it up from there, so that one-by-one, each Elf, including Glorfindel and Finrod, took turns singing the tale. Finlay had no idea what they were singing, but the voices transported him to another world, another time, and it was only when the final note was sung that he even remembered who he was and where. He blinked, as if coming awake, and found someone thrusting a stick at him with a hunk of deer meat on it and he took it gratefully and began eating.

Everyone else was eating as well, sitting or standing around the fire. The chocolate was passed around, everyone getting a smidgen of the candy as dessert. Elladan and Elrohir were still tending Alex and Farrell, singing softly words of healing to them both. Glorfindel asked Finrod for a tale while they ate, and the Elf prince obliged with a story about how he met Bëor and his people. “The first Mortals to reach Beleriand,” he explained to Finlay, who hung onto every word.

And so it went. At one point, Glorfindel asked Finlay for a tale or a song. Finlay demurred, but when it was pointed out that everyone had contributed a tale or a song that evening, he finally acquiesced. All through the evening and into the night the weather had remained calm, if frigid, the stars glittering high above them, but as the earth turned and midnight came and went, the wind began to pick up and clouds began occluding the stars. Now, it was snowing, though softly. Finlay looked up as he felt the first snowflakes on his brow and sighed, huddling further into his coat, everyone waiting for him to sing or tell a story.

“Oh the weather outside is frightful,” he began singing in a soft voice and several of the Elves chuckled. “But the fire is so delightful. Since there’s no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

“From your lips to the Valar’s ears, my friend,” Glorfindel said with a laugh and several others joined him.

“Sorry,” Finlay said apologetically. “I’m not very good at this and why would you want to listen to me croaking away when you all have such beautiful voices?”

Before anyone could answer him, Alex began stirring, moaning slightly. Everyone stopped what they were doing as Elrohir, being the closer twin, leaned over and brushed a hand through Alex’s hair. “Alex, can you hear me? It’s Roy. You’re going to be okay. Alex?”

Alex blinked open his eyes. “C-c-cold,” he stuttered.

Almost at once, several Elves doffed their coats and handed them to Elrohir, who began piling them on top of Alex. Other coats were placed over the still unconscious Farrell in case he was feeling cold as well.

“Is that better?” Elrohir asked, still brushing a hand through Alex’s hair, offering him comfort.

Alex nodded and closed his eyes, sighing slightly as he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

“The fact that he woke and was able to tell us that he was feeling cold is a good sign,” Vorondur said to Glorfindel and Finrod.

“It’s going to be a few more hours before we can leave,” Glorfindel said with a sigh. He glanced over to where Finlay was attempting to hide a yawn and walked over to the Mortal, clapping him on the shoulder. “You should get some sleep, my friend.”

“What about you lot?”

“Oh, don’t worry for us, we’ll be fine. Let’s find you a nice spot near the fire.” He pulled Finlay up and led him to the other side of Alex. Finrod and Vorondur had laid down their coats to form a bed so he wasn’t sleeping on the frozen ground and then more coats were placed over him as blankets.

“I really don’t think I’ll sleep,” Finlay insisted.

“Oh, I’m sure once you’re settled you will,” Glorfindel said with a knowing smile and began humming what sounded to Finlay like a lullaby. Several others picked up on it and soon Finlay was dropping off to sleep to the sound of the Elves singing.

****

Soft voices and gentle laughter woke Finlay, who was surprised that he had actually fallen asleep. Blinking open his eyes, he saw that the sky was beginning to lighten in the east. The fire was low and people were milling about. He stood up, stretching and yawning. Glorfindel came over to greet him.

“Good morning. We’re about ready to head out. There’s some deer meat left over. I suggest you have some to keep up your strength. We’ll get you a proper breakfast at the resort.”

“How are Meriwether and Farrell?” Finlay asked.

“Still unconscious, though Alex seems to have entered into true sleep. Farrell hasn’t stirred. I’m no expert, but I can see that Dan and Roy and even Ron are troubled by that. The sooner we can get them both to the hospital, the better.”

Finlay nodded. “I’m just going to… ah… use the privy.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Glorfindel said with a grin and he sauntered off to issue some orders to the others.

About twenty minutes later, they were ready to leave. The fire had been put out and two of the Elves were pulling the travois with Elladan and Elrohir walking beside them, keeping an eye on the two Men. One of the Elves was carrying Alex’s snowshoes which they had found lying in the snow. Finlay was surprised that they were not backtracking but were continuing along the other side of the tarn, all of them keeping well away from it.

“The trail loops around,” Glorfindel explained, “and this part of it is a little easier to navigate. No rockfalls to deal with. It shouldn’t take us too long to reach the resort.”

Even so, the sky was a brilliant blue and the sun was well above the horizon before they made it off the mountain and were approaching the resort. Vorondur offered to run ahead. “I’ll have them call in medi-evac,” he said and at Glorfindel’s nod, he loped off. The rest of the party arrived at the resort about ten minutes later to find Vorondur with the resort manager, Randy Snodgrass, and his assistant manager, Amanda Taylor waiting for them.

“Med-evac is on its way,” Randy said, “and I’ve ordered a hot breakfast for everyone.”

“Thanks, Randy,” Glorfindel said. “Do you have a room where we can put these two until the helicopter arrives?”

“There’s a fire going in the main foyer,” Vorondur said. “I suggest we bring them there. Even wrapped up in all those coats, the journey down was cold. We need to keep them as warm as possible.”

Glorfindel nodded and soon they were all congregated in the main foyer, shielding the two comatose Men from the curious eyes of patrons and employees while hot drinks were passed around.

“As soon as we get these two on their way, we’ll take up Randy’s kind offer and have breakfast before we set off for Wiseman,” Glorfindel explained to them. Even as he was speaking, they heard the distant chuff-chuff of rotors. “Let’s move them outside,” Glorfindel ordered and soon they were all in the parking lot where the helicopter was settling, the doors opening and two paramedics jumping out. Elladan and Elrohir met them and filled them in as the two Men were loaded into the craft.

“We’ll see you later,” Glorfindel shouted to the Twins as they leapt aboard behind the paramedics. Once the helicopter was on its way, Glorfindel turned to the others. “Let’s go have breakfast.”

****

Note: Captain Underpants is a children’s novel series by American author and illustrator, Dav Kilkey. To date, there have been ten books written.