Feeding the Stone
    by northern

    For Maggie, because she made a wish. Thank you to Music Diamond for beta.


    Every day is the same. Endless wading through snowdrifts across the mountainside to the shaft. Then back again in the evening, through new snowdrifts accumulated during the day.

    The wind cuts if they're not careful, cuts to the bone and inflicts wounds of coldness. They sit long hours by the fires, munching on dried fruit and rubbing chilled limbs back to life. There is no extra light, and if they happen to look up the others will be nothing but vague shapes of night and ember shades, only reflecting a glint or two from sudden flares.

    Every day they stand around the Mouth of rock, singing long notes until they have no more breath to give. Their voices mingle and travel down the passage into the innards of the mountain, creating something stronger and deeper than five voices alone could make. They fidget and change their positions and pitches infinitesimally, to make the purest harmonies, the strongest vibrations, and the Stone sings for them; magnifies the sound many times and feeds their hymn down the hole into the earth.

    Together, they are a whole, and their voices flow as cold water down a steep waterfall, here in strong gushes, there in a misty spray. They are the ones who Feed the Stone.

    When they arrive in the morning, the sun has barely cleared the horizon. The light snow on the few straws visible by the cave entrance catches a ray of sunlight and sparkles golden. They're out of breath from their long walk, and they rest for a moment right at the cave mouth to calm down and get rid of the ice that clings to their scarves. Their limbs are still buzzing from the heat of their strenuous walk, but they must conserve energy. They cough, but not too violently, to preserve their voices, and only then, when they are calm and composed, do they proceed further in.

    They stop reverently where the passageway widens into the cave hall. Here, the air is still and damp, and cold, so bitterly cold. The draft that comes from the Mouth of the shaft at the center sometimes carries a salty tang to it. They huddle close to each other in their worship, drawing whatever heat they can.

    They approach the chasm. It's wider than the length of two men stretched out one after the other, but round. It is fully possible to walk around it, and they do, positioning themselves to start their morning prayers.

    Joey starts with a soft note, beginning in a whisper, but growing steadily, and JC joins in with his part. The others follow when they're ready. It takes a while before the sound of them takes effect, and the chasm begins to vibrate and hum, eating their prayer and sending it downwards. After a while, Chris gets impatient and begins the second sequence, raising his voice in the rapid pattern that will be repeated many, many times before it's done. There is not as much of a steady hum down the shaft in this piece, but a smattering of echoes that is still pleasing to the ear. During this long piece, they move around, each of them raising their voice above the others' at intervals to go down the hole in the ground.

    Justin crouches on the slight outcropping at one side, close to the steep drop of stone, and sings directly down into the opening. This is not as effective as facing one of the walls, but his notes are still impressive and distinct. The Stone hums its approval and they continue.

    In one of their sequences, they all sit on their cloaks around the round chasm, facing it, singing low but intense long notes that become one echo after another, all blending into one another. The Stone doesn't hum or resound then, but makes its own echoes, coming together perfectly with their voices. This sequence is Lance's favourite, since it makes the most of his deep, long notes.

    At midday, they quiet briefly, sharing cold bread and dried meat with already stiff fingers, chewing and swallowing quickly and silently with respect for where they are. JC stands facing the chasm, chewing slowly. He doesn't eat much. He only wants to get back to the singing.

    From midday until the end, they do their most strenuous work, trying to find ways to make the Stone sing. They stand facing the walls, they lie on the ground, they stand at certain spots discovered at random to have a good connection with the Stone. Everything they do is to awaken the Stone and make it sing with them, loudly and mightily.

    Today Chris takes the lead and scampers up one sloping wall to sit close to the ceiling, exploring a good spot, recently found. His dark eyes shine in the inadequate light under his hood and he maneuvers them easily - stand on this stone, lean against this wall - until he is ready to try, and he leads them into it with his high, pure voice. He tries with a lower than usual pitch and gestures commandingly for Lance to imitate him at his own spot. Lance is their anchor, slow and sure, with deep notes that help the vibrations along. They wouldn't be the same without him. He's trustworthy, but doesn't take much initiative. He does what is needed, but no more. He saves himself for something else he never speaks about.

    Justin stands with his head cocked, listening intently, and keeps silent counsel with Chris about whether to lower or raise the pitch. Justin is their center, who they look to for inspiration. He makes sure and strong notes, and he seems to have a knack for positioning himself just right. He is always quick to follow Chris's lead, but also puts in ideas of his own - a gesture to raise the pitch slightly, or a sudden step back to make a new effect.

    Joey takes position near JC at the edge of the chasm. Joey is always listening for the way they all sound together, and will sometimes change his note to change their whole. He likes to feed dissonances into their pure harmony, only making the sound richer, stronger. He listens for a while, watching Justin and Chris's silent exchange, breathing the air in cloudy puffs, and then adds his voice, changing the harmony in a striking way. Chris and Justin glance towards him, but they're used to his ways and use the new sound to explore new possibilities. Already Justin is nodding carefully at the quiet humming that resonates below and signalling Lance to sing louder.

    JC is standing next to Joey, breathing silently and listening with his eyes closed. It is always like that with him. He will join when he sees fit to join, and his voice will sound out the way he sees fit for it to sound. Still he is waiting. JC always seems to make the notes with everything he is. He closes his eyes and pours something almost tangible out of his mouth. When they are not at the shaft, he doesn't say much. It's like he is the most alive when he makes his long notes, and is saving up for the energy the rest of the time.

    Justin begins to experiment with the humming voice mat they already have. He slides his voice this way and that, exploring the sound and the way it Feeds the Stone. Lance and Chris and Joey make a powerful background for him to play to, and he uses all the possible contrasts, riding them like great waves, adding to them with little trills and sudden shifts that put froth on them as they roll again and again.

    Justin lets his hands fall and his head drop back while he sings. He almost cannot feel the cold. Never have they sounded so perfectly joined. Never has the Stone hummed and vibrated so loudly. It's roaring beneath them and over them and around them, and still JC has not added his voice to them.

    When he does, it is with a note so high and clear and strong, it rushes through them all like lightning. With some effort, or perhaps no effort at all, they manage to keep up their singing, while JC blasts through them all, using them as a magnifying lens, taking the Stone and penetrating it to the roots of the mountain. The chasm is trembling with the power of it all, throwing the sound of their voices back and forth in an ear-deafening cry that springs from wall to wall and down into the opening again.

    At first they can't distinguish the sound from the glorious voice of the Stone. Not until chunks of the rock itself start to fall from the cavern roof do they stop. It feels like the whole mountain is shaking, and they glance about wildly in fear. Nothing like this has happened before. Larger stones roll down into the chasm, and they stare fearfully while the Stone Feeds on itself. Only JC is still standing near the Mouth, blissfully blind to it all, mouth open in a never-ending ground shaking note. A boulder falls from above and strikes the ground heavily enough to crack the lip of the chasm next to where JC is standing. That is what finally makes Lance move, and he rushes forward and hauls JC back from the great stone Mouth while the others also come to life and make for the way out.

    Behind them, stone dust is billowing in great clouds, and they cough enough to make their throats sore as they stumble out onto the mountain side. They huddle together in the evening cold, listening to the stone groaning and heaving for a long while.

    When the air has carried no sound but the wind and the rustle of snow for a while, they stand and go to survey the wreckage.

    They don't get far. Massive boulders and rubble are blocking the passageway, and they can't get inside the great chamber at all. Joey tries to move a rock, but soon has to give up. Chris stands motionless for a while, and then starts to shake in dry, violent sobs. The others simply stand there, looking.

    It doesn't take long for all of them to realize that they will never sing to the Stone Mouth again. The mountain has choked on itself and will not have need of them again.

    As night comes and the sharp light of the stars needles them, they begin their last walk across the mountainside.

    All fiction. No libel intended.
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