by E. C. Hibbs
One day, he would do this. He would stand where Henrik did, a drum in his hands, communing with the Spirits.
When he finally opened his eyes, the night had truly come. He always lost track of time on occasions like this. It was so easy to be swept up, to let everything but the song lose its meaning.
When Henrik struck the final beat, the solemnness of the gathering quickly transformed into merriment. Everyone headed to the bonfire, stoking it until the flames grew higher than the tallest man. Sparks blazed into the night like shooting stars. Bowls were heaped with food, laughter echoed around the headlands, hands were joined and everyone danced in a massive circle.
The hours bled into each other. Tuomas let them, allowing himself to get lost in the celebrations. Winter would be hard, as always, and as the Sun Spirit entered the cold with a final blaze of glory, so too would they.
He soon lost count of how many times he spun around the fire pit. The flames filled his vision: ever-shifting patterns of red and yellow; like a snowflake, no two were the same. Dizziness threatened and he pulled his hand out of Mihka’s. Mihka didn’t even notice; he carried on dancing with endless energy, his cheeks red from the heat.
Tuomas made his way to the edge of the throng. He took off his hat and wiped sweat from his forehead. Paavo was standing to the side with a bowl of stew in his hand.
Tuomas took a second helping of his own, using the blade of a small knife to spoon the chunks of shredded reindeer meat into his mouth. It was lean and a little salty, with the crisp taste of the forest mixed in: traces of the lichen and berries foraged by the animal in the autumn.
He gazed at the sky, taking a deep lungful of the crisp night air. A sudden flicker appeared in the corner of his eye. He blinked hard – the fire must have seared itself onto his vision.
But it didn’t go away. And it wasn’t yellow like the fire. It was green.
He froze. A faint glow was appearing against the darkness.
His heart skipped a beat and he nudged Paavo’s arm. His brother looked at him in confusion, but when he followed Tuomas’s gaze, his mouth fell open.
“The Lights!” he muttered.
The green flame swept over the fjord. Tuomas had seen the aurora more times than he could count, but this was special. It was the first time the Spirit of the Lights had danced this winter.
Others had noticed by now and silence fell over the crowd. The only sound was the crackling of the fire as a log tumbled into the embers.
The Lights were growing stronger by the moment, flickering across the sky in eerie waves of blue and green. The stars peeked through the swaying curtains, themselves almost lost against the spectacle.
Tuomas recalled the old legend of a white fox sweeping up the snow with her tail as she ran. The snow burned different colours as it skimmed the World Above, letting the ancestors dance and look down on their living families. It made the aurora, the ever-changing fox fires.
That was the story the first men of Akerfjorden had told to explain what the Spirit of the Lights looked like, but nobody knew how true it was. Tuomas supposed it was a fitting description though. All Spirits demanded respect, but this one was as beautiful and cold as the snow she flung up with her tail, and she knew it.
Tuomas bowed his head. There was a shuffling of clothing as everyone else did the same. On this night, on her first appearance, nobody was about to take any chances.
Mihka ambled over. A scowl was forming on his face
“Of course she had to come out in the middle of the party. They’re not even that impressive,” he grumbled, just loud enough for Tuomas to hear.
“Shut up, you idiot,” Tuomas hissed back.
“I’m serious. She couldn’t let the Sun Spirit have all the glory?”
“Will you be quiet?”
Sisu heard the whispers. He strode over and snatched his son’s elbow.
“Mihka. This isn’t the time.”
Mihka threw a disappointed snarl towards the aurora. A restless flash was growing in his eyes, fed by merriment cut short and the attention he loved, unable to be held back now.
“Tell her that. She’s got all winter to dance. This is supposed to be for the Sun Spirit.”
Sisu brought his face close.
“That’s enough! Show some respect!”
“She can’t hear me,” Mihka insisted under his breath. “And what does she care? What’s she going to do, strike me down?”
Tuomas wasn’t sure whether he meant it or whether his cockiness had gotten the better of him. Mihka turned his eyes on the Spirit challengingly.
“Go on,” he muttered. “I dare you.”
The sky exploded.
A peculiar roaring sound filled the air and the Lights shot towards them like an arrow. Women shrieked and leapt aside, shielding their children’s eyes. A bolt of turquoise rushed in Tuomas’s direction, then a shockwave as strong as a blizzard wind ploughed into him.
He landed on his back, upending his bowl and spilling its contents everywhere. Paavo and Sisu slammed down next to him.
He looked around for Mihka, and a horrified cry caught in his throat.
A few others had fallen over, but in the middle of the commotion, Mihka was still standing – and the Lights had struck him.
The serene green glow was now tinged with a vicious red, and the Spirit was weaving them around Mihka – Tuomas couldn’t see her, but he knew she was there; felt her in his bones like the thunder of an approaching avalanche.
“Mihka!” Sisu yelled, barrelling towards his son. But as soon as he came within touching distance of the Lights, he was thrown away like a ragdoll.
Maiken, one of the other leaders, ran over, her hands outstretched towards Mihka. She leapt towards him, only to bounce off the aurora and land in a heap beside Sisu. She tried again, followed by other villagers, but no matter how hard anyone pushed, they couldn’t penetrate the Lights. Even Henrik, beating his drum frantically, barely managed to get closer.
The Spirit was too strong. She surrounded Mihka with her fire, restraining him where he stood, jolting him back and forth so fast it seemed his neck would break. He wasn’t even screaming. It was so bright, Tuomas could barely see him.
Was he dead?
Tuomas didn’t waste time thinking. He leapt to his feet, ran at Mihka, and shoved him hard.
Amazingly, the Lights lost their grip and the two of them tumbled into the snow. Tuomas covered Mihka with his body, screwed his eyes closed, not daring to look.
He felt the aurora behind them; pictured the furious Spirit driving it. The Lights were so close, he saw green and red through his eyelids.
Her power and might flowed through him, cold, as though he’d fallen into a freezing lake. It was something not of this World; too icy to be anything but a Spirit.
He gritted his teeth, waiting for her to strike him too.
But nothing happened. There was a flash, and as quickly as the Lights had come down, they were gone.
Tuomas inched his eyes open, trembling with fright. The sky was empty, and Mihka stared silently up at him, barely breathing, his sooty hair now white.
Chapter Two
Everyone hurried back to the village, keeping their eyes fixed on the ground in case the Spirit of the Lights was still watching. If she had struck Mihka – the son of one of the leaders – then who might she come after next?
Tuomas clung tightly to Paavo. His legs moved as though separate from his body, only going through the motions of walking. His mind blazed.
What had just happened? What was wrong with Mihka? He could see his friend up ahead, bundled in his father’s arms, followed closely by Henrik.
What had the Spirit of the Lights done to him?
The bell of the lead reindeer sounded from somewhere in the forest, along with the low faraway thunder of hundreds of hooves moving over snow. The herd was spooked. They knew something had happened.
Henrik pointed at his hut, and Mihka was quickly taken inside. Tuomas strained to see,
but Paavo pushed him through the door of their own shelter. Paavo had left the fire piled high while they were out, so it still burned healthily and the interior was deliciously warm and light.
But the comfort was lost on Tuomas. He still felt the ghostly chill of the aurora at his back.
“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Paavo asked, checking Tuomas’s face.
“I’m fine,” Tuomas assured him. “You’re not. You’re bleeding.”
He touched Paavo’s temple and his fingers came away red. Paavo winced at the touch.
“I must have landed on a rock. I’ll be fine, it’s not deep,” he said as he examined it himself.
Tuomas nodded in relief, but then it gave way to frustration. He kicked at one of the stones surrounding the hearth.
“Idiot! What was he thinking?”
“Why? What did he do?”
“He insulted them – the Lights! That’s why she came down! Why she only went for him!”
Paavo frowned. “Wait… how did you do that? Push him away? No-one else could break through.”
Tuomas’s throat tightened. “I don’t know...”
The door swung open and a face poked through the frame. It was Aslak: one of the older herders.
“Are either of you hurt?” he asked.
“We’re fine,” Paavo replied, wiping the blood off his cheek. “What’s the matter?”
Aslak propped the door open with his shoulder.
“Can you come with me to check on the herd? If they’re startled, we’ll need a few men to calm them down. Maiken and Anssi are heading up there now.”
Paavo nodded and grabbed a hat, pulling it on in mid-step. Halfway out the door, he glanced back at Tuomas.
“Will you be alright here?” he asked.
“Yes, go on,” Tuomas insisted.
Paavo held his eyes for a moment. “Stay inside.”
With that, he disappeared, kicking the door shut behind him.
Tuomas glanced about in agitation, digging his fingers into the thick fur of his sleeping sack.
Stay inside? It was the sensible thing to do, but was Paavo honestly serious? Stay inside, when he had no idea what was happening with Mihka?
He managed to sit for a while, until silence fell. Everyone must have hurried back to their huts. He crawled to the door and opened it a crack to check.
There was nobody in sight. He threw a glance at the sky. A thousand stars blinked back at him, but no Lights. He was safe.
Seizing his chance, he slipped out and crept towards Henrik’s. The powdery snow muffled his footsteps a little, but he was still careful, placing his feet softly until he arrived at the side of the hut. He pressed himself against its turfed wall.
Henrik was chanting softly, accompanied by slow, harsh beats of his drum. The sound he made was unlike any Tuomas had heard: mournful, beseeching – desperate, even. It echoed all the uncertainty of the night.
After a while, the chant stopped. Tuomas knew Henrik would be coming out of the trance he’d sung himself into. He waited, listening hard.
Then a new voice spoke: Sisu.
“Can’t you wake him?”
“I’m afraid not.” There was a dull thump as Henrik put down the drum. “It is as I suspected. His body-soul is intact, but his life-soul has been taken.”
“Taken…” Sisu repeated. “How? By one of the ancestors?”
There was a hint of hope in that last question, but even from outside, Tuomas knew Henrik would be shaking his head. Only one kind of being had the power to take a soul.
“The Spirit of the Lights. Your boy has offended her. She’s stripped the life-soul away as punishment.”
A horrible silence descended. Tuomas’s heart pounded behind his ribs. Whether it was a human or an animal, nothing could survive without both of its souls, not properly. When the mages entered trances to commune with the Spirits, the life-soul travelled away from their body, letting them draw closer to the one they needed to speak to – but it always returned; they always woke up. To have it stripped away…
“But… he was only playing!” Sisu insisted, his words trembling. “He didn’t mean it… he was just being mischievous! You know that, surely!”
“Yes, I know what Mihka is like,” assured Henrik, “but Spirits won’t think that way. You see, they are pure energy, Sisu; neither completely good nor bad, just as nature is neither. They don’t have physical bodies like us; they are formless, unbound. Human emotions are beyond them. Aside from pride, perhaps.”
“What are you saying?”
“She has been insulted, and has responded in kind. Or, what she sees as in kind. This attack wasn’t pre-meditated, it was purely on impulse.”
“So what do we do?” asked Sisu.
“She must be appeased.”
“Well, you’re the mage. Can you do anything?”
“She won’t have it from me. She is angry, Sisu – she’s one Spirit I have rarely spoken with, and she almost threw me away the moment I approached.”
“But we need to get him back… he must wake up! I know I’ve spoiled him, but he’s the only family I have left.”
“I know.”
For a moment, Tuomas forgot to breathe. This couldn’t be happening.
Then Sisu spoke again. Tuomas had to strain to hear him; he was so quiet.
“The wandering mages. Do you remember them? That brother and sister?”
“Of course I remember them. How could I forget?”
“We could seek them out. Their taika is so strong… especially the woman. We all know that from the last time they were here. If you can’t reach the Spirit, they must be able to.”
“I agree, they probably could,” said Henrik tightly, “but it’s been fifteen years since they were here. I haven’t even seen them on the migration routes since then.”
“I know they’re solitary, but they can’t be impossible to find.”
“Be careful, Sisu. They are powerful mages – too powerful, in my opinion.”
“We need all the power we can find if we want any hope of getting Mihka back,” said Sisu, firmer now. “I don’t care what they ask for – they can have all my belongings and reindeer if they want. But I am not about to let him stay like this forever!”
Henrik let out a sigh. “Alright. But on one condition.”
“What? I should go looking for them?”
“No. Tuomas should. You know my reasons.”
Tuomas drew back from the hut in alarm. They wanted him to go? Why?
He held his breath, waiting for more, but all that came was Sisu’s conceding sigh.
“Very well.”
Before Tuomas could stop himself, he hurried to the door and pulled it open. Henrik and Sisu looked up in surprise.
“How long have you been there?” Henrik asked tersely.
“Long enough,” said Tuomas. “I’m sorry, I was so worried. And then I heard you in a trance and knew not to disturb –”
“Never mind that, come in here,” said Sisu.
Tuomas quickly obeyed, shutting the door behind him. His eyes immediately found Mihka. He was lying in front of Henrik, covered up to his neck with a blanket. The men had managed to close his eyes, but his hair was even more jarring in the firelight flickering from the hearth. It was as white as snow, paler than hair Tuomas had seen on the oldest man.
The sight chilled him as though the aurora was behind him again. For all of Mihka’s troublemaking, he was still his best friend. He didn’t deserve a fate like this.
He faced Sisu, hoping he looked more confident than he felt. Sisu stared at him, his dark eyes appearing even darker beneath his thick black hair. His tunic was adorned with pieces of antler jewellery and bone beads: the sign of a village leader.
“I’m sorry I listened in,” Tuomas said.
Sisu grunted, not impressed with his eavesdropping, but then his face softened as he glanced back at Mihka.
“Thank you for getting him away from it,” he said. “But now we need your
help again.”
“What must I do?” asked Tuomas.
Henrik was still glaring at him disapprovingly. “It’s simple enough. You were the one who protected Mihka from the Lights. You saved him. The Spirit stopped her attack because of you. So you are the one best suited to find how to appease her.”
Tuomas glanced between him and Sisu. “Is that your reason?”
Henrik’s eyes became harder than stone.
“Mind your tongue. You have a hand in this, in some form, so you have a hand in undoing it. Do I make myself clear?”
Tuomas nodded. Now wasn’t the time for prying. There were more pressing matters to deal with.
“Mihka means a lot to me. I’m the only friend he’s got.” he said. “I need to look for two mages?”
Sisu nodded.
“They should be in their late twenties by now – the last time they were here, they were younger than you. They are called Kari and Lilja.”
“Which is their village?”
“They don’t have one. At least, not anymore. They left years ago and now they wander wherever they want.”
Tuomas threw up his hands in exasperation. “Then how am I supposed to find them?”
“Good question,” Henrik muttered, with a pointed glance at Sisu. “Be wary of them, boy. They’re a strange couple.”
Then he mellowed and checked Mihka’s temperature with the back of his hand.
“Can you be ready to leave tomorrow?”
Tuomas nodded. “I’ll find them. I won’t fail you.”
Henrik lifted his hand from Mihka’s forehead.
“I’m not the one to fail,” he said. “But, in any case, your wish is materialising: an awful event has befallen us and it is your responsibility to come through it. So, take a good look at your friend. As of this moment, consider him your mage test. You have a terrible Spirit to appease before this is over.”
The words fell upon Tuomas like stone, and the gravity of the situation truly dawned on him. But as he gazed down at Mihka – seeming so much like a corpse – determination began to flow through his veins.