The Winter Spirits

by E. C. Hibbs

  He didn’t even need to think; it was as though the sound was already fully formed in his chest. All he had to do was open his mouth and let it flow out like water.

  This time, however, he managed to keep control. His souls didn’t loosen, he kept his feet firmly on the ground. He let himself feel that hot summery taika, allowed it to consume him. It tasted sweet on his tongue; deliciously warm. He felt as though he was lying in a meadow under the Sun Spirit’s shining face. It was almost enough to shrug out of his coat, but he forced himself not to do that.

  He basked in his own uncovered power, rolling in it like a child would play in the sea. He could do this. Both Henrik and Lilja had said he was strong. Now, he could do some real mage work, prove to them he was capable of that title. This quest was supposed to be his test – surely a little practise wouldn’t hurt.

  Instead of wishing himself outward, as he had done in the past, he pulled in. He breathed deeply and icy air flooded his lungs.

  “Lumi…” he whispered.

  A growl echoed in the distance.

  His eyes flew open. She wasn’t there – and neither was anyone else. He was still alone. But he felt a presence, all around him, as though something was trying to press through from another realm.

  Then the growl came again: deep, guttural. The air took on a horrid rancid taste that almost made him retch.

  He stopped drumming.

  “Who is with me?” he asked carefully.

  There was no answer. He got to his feet, unease writhing in the pit of his stomach.

  What kind of animal made a noise like that?

  The humans’ settlement was barely visible in the distance, but the Spirit could spot the hut which her companions had taken shelter in. She kept her eyes on it while she waited out the blizzard, sensing the Storm Spirits sprinting across the tundra.

  Stay strong, White Fox One, they whispered before whirling away into the sky.

  She watched them go with an air of melancholy. The snow tore around her, whipping her hair over her face. She flattened her ears to stop the wind howling down them.

  It was wonderful to feel the blissful cold seep through her earthly flesh. After an age spent in weightlessness, it was still difficult to bear the closeness of everything, but she was slowly getting used to it.

  The storm passed, and she looked back at the village, dusted white against the massive flank of the mountain. She refused to go closer. She couldn’t let the humans see her like this… at least, no more humans, not yet. The mage woman was enough, and that had been a choice forced on her.

  But the boy… Tuomas… he was a different matter.

  So many humans only became familiar to her when they joined her dance through the skies. While in the World Between, they were as far away as the furthest stars. She couldn’t distinguish one face or voice from the other. And that was the way it had always been.

  But then Tuomas had come along.

  Even from the beginning, she had sensed his souls, followed him whenever she could. When he had been born, she had been sleeping away the hot summer, but as soon as her Lights began to shine that winter, she had never truly looked away.

  That evening when the foolish Mihka had dared to insult her display, she would have struck down any other who came to his defence. But of all the people watching, it was Tuomas who had leapt on top of him and shielded his eyes.

  It was strange to call him Tuomas. It felt just as wrong as being in this physical body; so constrictive and pale compared to her true form. She had even mentioned it, back when he first pulled her down here.

  But he didn’t remember her. And she wasn’t sure whether it would be best to tell him or not.

  She stayed still, falling into her own trance, and felt herself just brush the edge of how things were in the World Above. There was no sense of time or urgency. No need to do anything except exist, to dance the silent dance, to throw her ever-changing Lights across the inky sky.

  A smile traced her lips. Soon. Soon, she would be back there, back home.

  And alone again.

  A sudden pain ripped through her chest and she flinched. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, but left a curious ache, spreading through her whole body. It was like a fire had been lit inside her.

  She gasped in agony, but she had no sooner clutched at her breast when something trickled down her face.

  She wiped her forehead and looked at her fingers. A drop of water shone in the waning light.

  For the first time since being pulled from the sky, she felt a jolt of genuine fear.

  Then she heard the slow, steady sound of a drum.

  The beats tugged at her, calling to her Spirit essence, but she stayed still. It was him, Tuomas, trying to summon her – to check she was unharmed by the storm, no doubt.

  She allowed herself a small smile. Forget that he had to put her back in the World Above in order to save his friend – he was so concerned about her, about her safety. He didn’t need to do that.

  Could he sense their connection too? Was it starting to come back to him? Did she dare hope he would realise on his own, and spare her further pain?

  Suddenly, the air changed.

  It would have been unnoticeable to a human, but for a Spirit, it was like being submerged in water. It tasted bad, smelled bad. It was something not quite physical – something evil.

  She leapt to her feet and spun around, and came face to face with a demon.

  Horror paralysed her. It was an effigy: a creature made by a wicked mage. She couldn’t see any human control in its hollow eyes, but that didn’t mean a life-soul wasn’t inside it, driving it, urging it to do some foul bidding.

  Life-soul…

  She could take souls. She could rip it out.

  She raised her hands, summoning her magic, but before she could strike, the demon swung at her. Its bony arm slammed into her stomach and sent her flying backwards.

  She landed with a thud, but was on her feet in moments, flinging her power at the creature. It growled and came towards her again, long claws protruding from its fingers. They cut through the air like knives. She wasn’t sure if they could truly harm her, but didn’t stay close enough to find out.

  She kept to the defensive, hurling magic, her hands and arms glowing with the aurora. The demon shuddered upon each impact, but she kept going. Blasts like this would have struck down a human instantly – it was the same power she had tried to use on Lilja… and which Tuomas had stopped.

  Tuomas…

  That brief lapse in her concentration was enough. The demon took one huge stride forward and shoved her so hard, she fell straight through the snow and hit the icy ground beneath.

  The demon bolted in the direction of the village. She scrambled up, swaying from the impact. But then she gritted her teeth and gave chase.

  No matter that the humans would see her. There was no choice now. She could sense, with horrid certainty, who the creature was running towards, and she had to stop it.

  Chapter Twelve

  The silence exploded. There was a bloodcurdling shriek, and a figure bounded towards Tuomas.

  He fell back, too alarmed to even scream. The thing was upon him in moments, pressing him down. The drum flew from his grasp.

  The creature was massive: at least two heads taller than Sisu; naked, skin dry and pale, torn into ragged fleshy scraps that stroked his cheek as it leaned over him. A stench like carrion filled his nose and made him gag. Its face was skeletal and oversized in all the wrong places, like something a child might have drawn in the snow. A large red gash had been sliced across its cheek.

  Tuomas stared into the thing’s hollow demonic eyes. There was no life in them.

  Then he did scream. He tried to fight it off, but it grabbed his wrist in one bony hand and slammed it down. The other hand trailed down his front, pressing over his heart.

  Frantic, he snatched at his belt, finding the hilt of his largest knife. He tore it free and slashed upwards.

  Th
e flint blade made contact and a second wound opened on the creature’s face. The demon growled, but it was a sound of anger, not pain. Without warning, it gripped his throat with its free hand and lifted him clean off his feet.

  Tuomas clutched at its fingers, gasping for air, feet pedalling as he tried to kick. His knife dropped to the ground and was instantly lost in the snow.

  “Help…” he tried to choke out, but the hand tightened around his throat and cut him off. Darkness swam at the edges of his vision.

  Something shot past his head.

  The demon wailed and dropped him. He landed heavily on his side and looked up to see what had happened.

  The shaft of an arrow was protruding from the creature’s skeletal shoulder. But it still hadn’t gone down. It looked more enraged than ever.

  Tuomas clumsily scrambled away from it, his movements hindered by the fresh snow. But then relief filled his body. His scream had been heard. A crowd was running towards them from the village.

  At the head were Sigurd and Elin, who was already drawing a second arrow. More people poured from the huts, all armed with knives, bows and even ice fishing harpoons. Some were on skis, bellowing incoherently as they rushed forward.

  “What is that thing?” Elin shouted.

  “Never mind, just get it away from him!” replied a woman in a skirt of white reindeer fur: the mage.

  The villagers quickly surrounded the demon and jabbed at it with their blades and poles, shooting arrows into its body. It swung madly at them, letting out roars which made Tuomas shudder. The air was so heavy – it churned his stomach and he struggled not to vomit.

  A flash of green suddenly lit up the night. Shocked gasped filled the air.

  Tuomas looked up, straight at Lumi.

  She was standing behind the demon, her arms raised, throwing spectral Lights straight into its back. She spun her hands as though dancing and the aurora surrounded the creature, tightening like a lasso around a reindeer. It jolted back and forward, bellowing in fury.

  Sigurd’s mouth fell open.

  “What is this?”

  His words broke the spell which had fallen over the crowd.

  “It’s a Spirit!”

  “It’s her! The Spirit of the Lights!”

  “What’s she doing here?”

  With a roar, the demon spun on the spot and broke free of Lumi’s grasp. The mutterings of the villagers turned once more to battle cries. Lumi struck out again, the aurora flying from her like lightning. With every strike, a red trace rose around the swirling greens as her anger grew. It seemed to be hurting the creature, but it still stayed on its feet.

  Tuomas stared at it in horror. Would nothing bring it down?

  He noticed his knife at the demon’s feet. He snatched it and staggered upright, but before he could start fighting, someone grabbed him by the back of his coat. He fought free and turned to see Lilja, her drum in one hand.

  She didn’t look at him. Her eyes, still bloodshot from crying, locked onto the demon with an intensity he had never seen before.

  Without a word, she pushed him behind her. She removed one of her own knives and went to advance on the demon.

  But she wasn’t quick enough. It barrelled through the villagers and came straight for Tuomas.

  Lilja took a swipe at it, but it elbowed her aside and grabbed him, bundling him over its shoulder. He pounded at it with his fists, but to no avail, and the creature ran.

  The villagers gave chase, but they were growing smaller and smaller by the moment. Lumi broke into a sprint, still flinging Lights at the demon. Tuomas flinched as one landed inches from his chest.

  Lilja tied her drum onto her belt.

  “Give me those!” she snapped, shoving a nearby man out of his skis. She thrust her feet into them and powered after the demon. When she got close enough, she dropped the poles, pulled her drum up, and struck it so hard, Tuomas was surprised she didn’t break the skin.

  A shockwave ploughed into them like a blast of icy air, and the demon’s knees gave out, sending it sprawling onto its front.

  Tuomas scrambled free. The demon tried to catch his legs again, but he leapt over its fingers and ran to Lilja.

  As soon as Elin was within range, she raised her bow, and let fly. With incredible aim, the arrow plunged into the demon’s eye.

  That finally dealt some damage. The creature’s howls transformed into agony, and blood stained the snow a brilliant red.

  The villagers approached, Sigurd in the lead, knife raised. But they had no sooner gotten within reach when the demon fled, melting into the snow as though it were made from nothing more than air.

  Tuomas stared after it, rooted to the spot. Then he looked around for Lumi. But she was gone too. There was only a faint green glow in the distance as she ran to take cover.

  Lilja reached him and grasped his shoulders.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “What was that? Why was it here?”

  Lilja cut him off, pulling him close so nobody else would hear.

  “You were drumming for her, weren’t you?”

  Tuomas swallowed guiltily.

  “Yes… I wanted to make sure she was alright after the storm…”

  “Stupid boy! Forget that she’s in a physical form; she’s still a Spirit! Nothing can harm her, the winter least of all! Did you even bother to warm the drum over a fire to get it ready? Did you cast a protective circle before starting a chant?”

  Tuomas felt the blood draining from his face. He had forgotten!

  His words fell over each other.

  “I… I thought that, since I knew exactly who I wanted to speak to…”

  “What, that you didn’t need to protect yourself, in case anything else came to say hello?” Lilja bared her teeth. “Some teacher Henrik is! Stupid idiot boy, get back to the shelter and stay there!”

  She threw him away and turned to the villagers.

  A middle-aged couple was approaching. One was the mage woman in the white skirt. She wasn’t as old as Henrik, but her blonde hair was streaked with grey, cascading down her back in thick ponytail. The man beside her was adorned with the same antler and bone beads as Sisu, Maiken and Anssi back in Akerfjorden; so Tuomas immediately knew he was a leader. The only difference was that while Akerfjorden’s beads were sewn in an undulating pattern to mimic the Mustafjord’s waves, this man’s formed a large point, practically identical to the mountain behind the village.

  Lilja nursed her scar with one hand as they reached her.

  “Birkir, Aino,” she greeted. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “Not that I can see,” the man replied. “What are you even doing here, Lilja?”

  “Just passing through,” she answered.

  Another man ran up to Birkir and grasped his sleeve.

  “That was the Spirit of the Lights!” he hissed. “Why was she here?”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it all out,” said the mage woman, Aino. Her voice was softer than a reindeer calf’s fur. “First of all, we need to secure the village, make sure that thing can’t come back. Will you help me, Lilja?”

  Lilja nodded, then noticed Tuomas, still standing behind her.

  “I told you to go to the shelter!”

  Tuomas stepped forward to argue, but Elin took him by the elbow.

  “Come on, she’s mad enough already,” she said quietly.

  Growling in defeat, Tuomas allowed her to lead him away from Lilja, snatching up his knife and drum as he passed them. He looked at the instrument, trying to let the anger settle, but it only boiled higher.

  How could he have been so stupid and naïve to not even remember the basics of the craft?

  All of a sudden, he hated the drum. Without it, he never would have trapped Lumi, or alerted that demon. He had a mind to throw it as far as he could and never pick it up again.

  But then the fury twisted inside him and bit at a place it never had before. Henrik wouldn’t have passed the drum to him, o
r insisted he be the one to go out and right Mihka’s wrong, if he hadn’t trusted him. It wasn’t just any drum he had given; it was his own, older than Tuomas himself.

  With a jolt, Tuomas saw how he had broken that trust; had broken it from the very beginning. He broke it by not listening when he had the chance, by not taking the old mage seriously, by getting a taste of the sacred power and thinking it made him special. And now, because of his arrogance, it had brought nothing but misery. This was supposed to be his test, and he was failing at every turn.

  He glanced back at Lilja. She and Aino were walking in a circle, beating their drums, chanting a protective spell. He could sense their taika, forming a giant invisible shell around the entire village. It made the air heady; he caught the smell of flowers and freshly-dried earthy tang of angelica, chasing away the rotten stench the demon had left behind.

  It was so much greater than his: refined, controlled. True, he had somehow been able to block Lumi’s Lights, but what use was that when he couldn’t even cast a circle?

  He lowered his head in shame, biting his lip so no angry tears could escape.

  They arrived back at the hut and Elin held the door open. The orange glow of the fire inside spilled across the churned snow.

  “Come on,” she said. “Leave them be.”

  Tuomas ducked under her arm and fell upon his sleeping sack. He didn’t bother taking off his coat. After an event like this, the leaders were sure to summon everyone once the village was secure.

  Alda looked up from the opposite side of the hearth, her eyes wide with alarm.

  “What happened? Did you manage to fight it off?”

  “Yes,” Elin replied.

  “What was it?”

  “I don’t know. But it won’t come back – the mages are putting up a circle.”

  Elin paused, fidgeting with unease.

  “The Spirit of the Lights was there as well.”

  Aino turned pale. “What?”

  “But she was in human form, Mother. She wasn’t in the sky.”