by E. C. Hibbs
Who had sent that demon? Even when surrounded by the villagers, why had it completely ignored them and gone after him?
His hand went to his belt, and found the little pouch holding the lock of Mihka’s hair. No matter that this was his test. It had never been for him.
He felt something else inside the pouch: small and hard. He pressed at it through the sealskin, exploring it with his fingers. Then he remembered: it was the little fox he had whittled out of the hare bone.
Lumi’s spectral eyes swam into his mind.
Yes, this was for Mihka. But there would be no saving Mihka unless he sent her back first. That was the priority now.
He stayed silent as they left the hut and prepared to depart. It was still dark, with not even a hint of the shadowy half-light yet. The Moon Spirit’s face was almost completely gone: only a sliver remained hovering in the endless night. The lone light source came from torches stuck into the ground near the sleighs.
Tuomas and Lilja removed all their unnecessary belongings, leaving only what was needed for a return journey. Birkir appeared, along with his two fellow leaders, to help. Then they offered a few handfuls of moss to the reindeer, which the animals set upon with vigour.
When everything was done, Lilja took Tuomas’s arm.
“Stay close,” she said in an undertone.
Tuomas read her meaning at once.
“Do you think that demon will come back?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But be on your guard. It knows where you are now.”
So he had been right. The creature had come only for him last night.
Tuomas faced her directly.
“You’re not telling me something,” he said.
The light of the torches reflected in Lilja’s eyes.
“It’s best left for somewhere less exposed.”
She gave a subtle nod towards the villagers, then climbed into her sleigh without another word. Tuomas heaved a frustrated sigh as he took a seat in his own and rested Henrik’s drum on his lap.
Elin and Sigurd approached, their arms laden with reindeer moss and firewood, which they deposited in the backs of the sleighs. Alda watched from the door of the hut, hands tucked under her armpits to keep them warm.
Elin and Sigurd approached her and each gave her a huge bear hug, planting kisses on her cheeks.
“We’ll be back soon, Mother,” Elin promised.
“I know,” Alda smiled, her mouth drawn tight with cold.
She laid a hand on Sigurd’s face. The two of them gazed at each other lovingly, then Sigurd climbed into the front sleigh beside Lilja. She shuffled away when he got too close, leading to an uncomfortable cough from Sigurd.
Elin leapt into Tuomas’s sleigh and threw her bow down at her feet so she could hold a torch.
“Have you got everything?” he asked.
Elin nodded. “You?”
Tuomas tapped the drum. “Yes. But this is the most important thing.”
Elin gazed at it in wonder.
“I’ve never seen one of these up close before,” she murmured. “Can I touch it?”
Tuomas angled it towards her. Her eyes widened and she pulled off a mitten to tentatively run her fingers over the skin.
“It’s smoother than I thought,” she said. Her thumb hovered over the face of the Great Bear Spirit in the centre. “It’s beautiful.”
Tuomas nodded. It truly was beautiful. Even in the darkness, the symbols seemed just as vivid as ever. He couldn’t believe he had thrown it into the corner like a child discarding a broken toy. This was a sacred thing, so much more than a mere musical instrument.
Henrik was right. He needed to control himself. Not just his power, but his temper as well. It had already led to enough problems.
But first of all, he needed to have a long talk with Lilja.
Birkir came forward, a hand on his heart.
“Go in peace,” he said warmly.
“Stay in peace,” Tuomas replied. “Thank you.”
A dark cloud settled over him at saying the familiar farewell. The last time he had shared an exchange like this was with Sisu.
Lilja gave a curt nod of gratitude, then snapped the rope attached to her reindeers’ harnesses. Tuomas urged his own animal to follow, and the sleighs jolted forward. Einfjall fell behind them, its houses and people growing ever smaller in the shadow of the mountain.
Tuomas felt a sharp pressure in the air as they passed through the protective circle.
He glanced around. Would the demon sense they were outside it now? His eyes scanned the black horizon, trying to pick it out.
But there was nothing. Not even a breath of wind.
It’s injured, he reminded himself. It won’t come back.
Even as he thought it, he clenched his fists inside his mittens. He never wanted to see that disgusting thing again.
They headed back the way they had come when Sigurd had found them, and easily located the spot where they had tried to pitch a shelter. The poles were still sticking up in a skeletal cone, white from frost. With a few blows of an axe, the ends were free. After loading them into the sleighs, the group set off again, turning right to align themselves with the North Star.
As the sleighs moved further into the darkness, Tuomas looked out at the flat landscape. He understood how many people could see it as bleak and treacherous, but he couldn’t deny how captivating it was in its simple beauty. Nothing existed here save the snow, sky, and winter Spirits. He could feel them, just out of sight and reach, observing from their hidden overlapping realms. Any humans who came here were just passing through, never to stay or leave their mark.
He threw a quick glance at Elin. She didn’t seem to have sensed the Spirits around them – or if she had, not as strongly as what he felt. Her eyes were also wandering, but without any kind of intent. He was sure, however, that in the sleigh up ahead, Lilja was feeling the exact same thing as him.
He bowed his head, acknowledging the Spirits’ presence. And then, so fleeting that he thought he imagined it, he saw a flash running over the distant snow. There was a streak of white hair, and the flicker of a tail, trailing a faint green glow in its wake.
He smiled. So Lumi was fine, after all.
For the first time since the demon’s attack, his heart warmed in relief.
The already short day seemed even shorter the further north they journeyed. What would have been an hour of bluish glow in Akerfjorden was now a tiny line across the horizon, so cold and far away, it barely seemed to belong to the same World. The only way to truly keep time was by the spinning stars overhead.
The snow shone a faint turquoise, completely undisturbed, and the sleighs cut through it like a knife. This was a place where the Sun Spirit refused to cast even a fraction of her warmth. Tuomas knew that in summer, it would never set here, but the idea of summer was so distant that it wasn’t worth thinking about. Never had he been anywhere so cold, so desolate.
And it was a constant monotony. Nothing changed. The convoy just kept going in a straight line. No more animal tracks crossed the land. No more shrubs grew. No mountains reared in the distance. It was mind-numbing.
“I haven’t been here in ages,” Elin said, her words slightly muffled by the scarf wrapped around her face. “You know, when I was little, I used to think that eventually you would reach the end of the World and fall off.”
Tuomas looked at her from beneath lashes turned white with ice.
“When was the last time you were here?”
“About three years ago. I didn’t really like it. Too cold.”
“So why did you come this time?”
“I’ve always wanted to see the Northern Edge of the World. I’ve never been that far north.”
Despite the freezing temperatures, a little colour rose to her cheeks. “And I wanted to help.”
Tuomas smiled, even though she couldn’t see it under his scarf.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted. “I�
�ve never seen anyone shoot an arrow so well.”
“I’ve had a lot of practise,” Elin said, all sheepishness gone. “Mother wanted me to stay home and learn women’s stuff, but I preferred going out hunting. She gave in once I promised to help her cook whatever I brought back in the evenings.”
Tuomas nodded. Barely an hour since setting out from Einfjall, Elin had spotted a hare. Everyone else had missed it, but she’d managed to pick out its white coat from the expanse of snow, and put an arrow clean through its eye, killing it instantly. It was big and fat, and would give them a fantastic meal on the journey home. Lilja had skinned and gutted it there and then, before packing down the meat and pocketing the bones to make needles. But, in her own silent gratitude for Elin’s skill, Lilja had presented the fur to her, to make a new pair of mittens when they returned.
Elin gave a gentle tug on her hat to pull it further down over her ears.
“So… what are your parents’ names?” she asked. “Lilja was quite keen to mention you weren’t her son.”
Tuomas hesitated before answering.
“Their names were Erik and Veera. But they’re dead. Both of them.”
She held a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
“I’ve never lost anybody. I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
“I don’t remember them, really. My big brother Paavo raised me,” said Tuomas. “My mother died giving birth to me, and my father was killed by greylegs when I was two.”
He sighed. “Paavo remembers them better. It still hurts him to think about them. But I’ve got him, so I guess it doesn’t matter, so long as there are still people who care about you.”
“True.” Elin lowered her eyes. Then she smiled, jostling him. “And I did notice you were just as quick to say you weren’t Lilja’s, either! Is she really that annoying?”
Tuomas couldn’t hold back a grin.
“She’s alright. She’s just used to keeping to herself. I think having me around has thrown her a little.”
“You say that as though it wasn’t a choice,” Elin noted.
He stiffened, suddenly defensive. He understood why she was asking questions, but he still didn’t want to divulge everything, at least not yet. So he fell silent, and turned away.
Elin blinked, his dodge not lost on her. But she seemed to take the hint, because she didn’t press the matter.
The ground dipped slightly, and out of the whiteness there appeared a lake: an icy expanse in the middle of the infinite tundra, covered with a layer of snow. It was almost perfectly circular, as though some ancient hand had carved it out of the landscape and time hadn’t touched it since.
The reindeer slowed as they moved onto it, wary of the new surface, but quickly found their feet and carried on. Tuomas clambered out of the sleigh and took hold of his animal’s harness, muttering in a low voice to comfort it.
A figure emerged in the distance.
Elin frowned, trying to focus on it.
“What is that? A person? Out here?”
Tuomas didn’t answer, too busy attempting to see it himself. He supposed it must be one of the Earth Spirits, perhaps guarding the entrance. He had never heard of that being done at openings to the other Worlds.
But then he noticed pointed ears and a sweeping tail.
Lumi.
When they were closer, he tugged on the rope to make the reindeer stop. He let go of the harness and approached her. She had her back to him, staring up at the sky.
“How did you get here before us?” he asked.
Lumi turned around.
“Are you underestimating me again?”
Tuomas swallowed nervously, not sure if she was angry. But then she relaxed, and let her thin lips curl into the smallest of smiles.
“I am glad you are safe,” she said.
“Me too. Otherwise, who else will put you back in the sky?” Tuomas replied with a grin. He lowered his voice. “Did you see the demon on your way here?”
“No. I ran ahead to look for it, but there was no sign.”
Tuomas wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. He supposed it would be hiding somewhere, licking its wounds – or perhaps even returned to the wicked mage who had sent it in the first place. But it was like Lumi: it left no footprints or tracks of any kind. If she couldn’t find it, nobody could. It could be anywhere, and that chilled him to the bone.
A gasp from behind him made realise he wasn’t alone with her anymore. Elin and Sigurd were staring at Lumi, their eyes wide with shock.
Sigurd fell to his knees.
“By the Spirits… it is her!” Elin breathed.
“Don’t be afraid of her,” Tuomas encouraged. “She won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Lumi shot him a pointed look, thinly veiling her displeasure of him assuming anything, but she kept silent.
Sigurd lowered his head in respect.
“It’s an honour to meet you.”
At the show of reverence, Lumi instantly mellowed.
“Thank you,” she said.”
The sound of Lumi’s voice seemed to snap Elin out of staring. She clasped her hands together and bowed like her father, until the brim of her hat was almost touching the snow.
“Alright, get up, you’ll freeze,” muttered Lilja.
She had retrieved some of the moss from her sleigh and tossed it to the three reindeer, who wasted no time in diving on it. She scratched behind one of the reindeer’s ears, then approached Lumi with a polite nod.
“Glad to see you here, White Fox One,” she said.
Lumi didn’t reply, but her irises turned a warm shade of pink, and that seemed to be enough.
Sigurd and Elin got to their feet, both still too stunned to even brush the snow off their trousers. Sigurd’s eyes were almost as wide as the bone discs he had worn when Tuomas had first met him. Elin kept glancing between him and Lumi, stunned at how at ease he seemed with the Spirit.
Wanting to break the awkward silence, Tuomas turned to Lilja.
“So… uh, how much further until we get to the Northern Edge of the World?”
“A few feet,” she replied, and pointed to a spot behind Lumi.
Tuomas followed her finger. A hole was gaping open in the ice, wide enough for a fully-grown man to float in lengthways. He had been so relieved to see Lumi, he had somehow completely missed it.
There were none of the rough edges of an ice-fishing hole – it didn’t even look as though it had been made with a tool at all. Instead it seemed to be formed naturally, frozen in a perfect circle, the dark waters clear and open to the air.
“That’s it?” Elin asked incredulously.
“That’s it,” Lilja said. “I haven’t been here for a while, but it looks exactly the same.”
Despite not knowing what to expect, Tuomas couldn’t hide his surprise. He had thought the Northern Edge might be a literal edge. Like the river of night which he had imagined: something so obvious, it would be impossible to mistake it for anything else. Or perhaps the faraway sea ice, beyond the summer islands. Not something as simple and unassuming as a lake. If he squinted, he could almost be on the frozen Mustafjord.
He stared at the hole. At first, he was stunned by how the water inside was still liquid, but then a more pressing question came to him.
“Are we supposed to swim down? We’ll freeze!”
In answer, Lilja knelt at the edge of the hole and pulled her drum onto her lap.
“Get yours, boy,” she said to Tuomas. “And you two, get a fire going. We need to open the gateway.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sigurd and Elin set about building the fire, and Tuomas fetched his drum from the pile in his sleigh. Lilja pointed to the other side of the hole, and he sat there, sinking a little into the snow until his knees came to rest on the ice beneath.
A shiver ran through his body. Usually he would lay a reindeer skin down to keep the worst of the cold coming through. But Lilja hadn�
��t done that, so he supposed they wouldn’t be here for long.
She looked at him. Her face was as stoic as ever, but her blue eyes shone, and Tuomas’s heart swelled. Even after everything he had done, she was actually trusting him to help her open the gateway.
Sigurd struck a flint over the tinder and Lumi instantly stepped back, away from the heat. The movement startled Elin, who was still stealing wide-eyed glances at the Spirit. But Lumi stared back each time, with her unbroken icy composure, and Elin would gulp and find something else to occupy herself. As the fire slowly spread over the wood, Tuomas noticed that her hands were shaking.
He managed to catch her eye.
“Are you alright?” he mouthed.
Elin nodded, but it was a jarred movement, stiff with nerves.
He couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for not telling her and Sigurd what – who – might be joining them on the journey. They had already seen Lumi, but not like this, not up close.
As though reading his thoughts, Lumi turned her eyes on him. Just a week ago, he wouldn’t have been able to read her face, but now, he thought he recognised a flash of relief.
But for what? That they were finally going to get help for sending her home? Or that they were unharmed by the demon?
Tuomas remembered the way she had fought it the night before. Despite being bound in human form, she had still moved like a Spirit; her body held no weight. Even though her Lights hadn’t been what eventually injured the creature, she hadn’t stopped attacking.
She took a step closer. Tuomas gulped, telling himself not to be afraid. Then he bowed his head.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Lumi didn’t blink. Her eyes fluttered with green fire.
“You are welcome,” she said, in a voice softer than falling snow.
A drop of water appeared at her hairline and ran down her face.
Tuomas frowned. Her skin looked different. There was a sheen over it, like liquid – not as firm as it had been when he first brought her out of the sky.