by E. C. Hibbs
She reached towards him.
Tuomas jerked away.
“Don’t touch me!” he snarled.
Lilja frowned.
“What’s the matter?” Alda asked.
“I know about you!” Tuomas blurted. “Kari told me everything… you’re in league with him! You murdered my brother!”
Lilja recoiled as though he had slapped her. Around the hearth, Alda and Sigurd stared, their faces white with shock.
“I… I never did!” Lilja insisted. “I am a mage! Mages do not rule and we do not kill! I said that to Kari, back when he made that demon!”
“You knew he was the one who made it?” demanded Sigurd. “You knew, and you didn’t say anything?”
“I hardly say much at the best of times,” Lilja snapped.
“You were protecting him,” Tuomas hissed. “You didn’t take me to the World Below to help Lumi. It was so I could set him free! And you gave him Paavo’s skin so he could trick me!”
“It must have been an illusion. You know mages can do that. I never laid a finger on your brother – I haven’t seen the boy since you were born! Whatever he said to you on that mountain, they were lies! He wanted to weaken your resolve, so you wouldn’t try to fight back!”
“I don’t think he was the liar,” Tuomas said coldly.
He swung a hand at her, caught her collar and pulled it down. The scar shone in the firelight.
“Kari had one just like it,” he said. “He wasn’t the only one controlling that demon.”
“That’s not true!”
Lilja smacked his hand away, causing him to yelp in pain. She quickly tried to apologise, but Sigurd was on his feet in moments, his face a dark cloud of anger.
“I think you’d better leave,” he said, tone dangerously low.
Lilja looked between him and Elin.
“It’s not true. I swear! I was protecting him!”
Sigurd advanced on her.
“Get out. Now.”
Realising she was beaten, Lilja lowered her head and backed out of the door. She threw one last glance at Tuomas, biting her lip to stop herself from crying. But he refused to acknowledge her, and she didn’t say another word.
With a final sigh, she disappeared into the night.
Chapter Twenty-One
Time flew, with hardly any way to mark it. The final dregs of midday twilight finally faded and cast the Northlands into true polar night. Midwinter was almost upon them. The wind blew like a ferocious creature, bringing storms and blizzards, and villagers were forced to venture out and shovel the snow away from their doors.
To Tuomas, it all passed in a haze. He struggled through fever dreams, the pain of his hands spreading like fire. The worst was when Elin and Alda cleaned them and the skin came away, on some occasions accompanied by a nail. The tips of two of his fingers blackened and dissolved, until he was left with only misshapen stumps.
He distantly heard Elin telling him of things going on, even though it sounded a million miles away. Lilja had taken her belongings and sleigh and left when they were all asleep. Birkir and the other leaders put men to work patrolling the outskirts of Einfjall in case she or Kari tried to come back.
There had been no sightings. Tuomas wondered if the raging snowstorms had killed them both.
Two weeks after Sigurd evicted Lilja, Tuomas found the strength to wriggle out of the sleeping sack. The fever had finally broken and he had managed to fight off the last of the ice in his bones.
Alda turned away to give him some privacy as he pulled on a fresh set of clothes.
“You seem a lot better,” she remarked.
“Too bad I wasn’t on my feet last night. I could have gone on the hunt with Elin and Sigurd,” said Tuomas.
“Don’t push your luck.”
Tuomas slid the tunic to his waist and picked up his belt. Aside from the missing knives, everything was still there. The greatest relief was seeing the little pouch with Mihka’s hair inside.
It was difficult to fasten the buckle with his damaged hands, but he managed it, and let his fingers linger on the pouch. Then he felt the harder outline of the bone carving. He recalled whittling it, back in Lilja’s tent, into the face of a white fox.
Two talismans: one for his friend, and one for his… sister.
Sister Spirit.
His heart raced. He needed to speak with her.
He cleared his throat to tell Alda he was decent, and slipped his feet into his shoes.
“I’ll fetch us some water,” he offered. “I need to have some fresh air.”
“Wear your mittens,” Alda said.
“As if I need reminding,” Tuomas replied, but he smiled as he said it.
He pulled on his coat and hat, and she helped him get into his mittens. Then he picked up the pail and stepped through the door, immediately sinking into several inches of snow.
He took in a huge breath of air. It was freezing, and chilled his lungs, but he didn’t care. After two weeks of being stuck inside, it was wonderful. He let it out slowly, watching a cloud form in front of his lips.
He walked away from the huts, out to where nobody had trodden, and laid the pail on its side to kick snow into it. It was the fastest and easiest way to get water in the dead of winter – afterwards, it was only a matter of melting the snow down.
He scooped a handful from the ground and sucked it into his mouth. The cold stung his teeth, but he held it there until it thawed, and swallowed the sweet water.
His eyes wandered to the huge bulk of the mountain over the village. Its shadow loomed against the sky, slopes caked with ice.
An uncomfortable chill shot through him. Up on that desolate summit, he had almost died. He wondered if Kari was still there, huddled around the remains of his fire, frozen stiff…
Henrik had said that some mages were tested through illness. In any other circumstances, what he had just been through might have been enough. But not now. This was all so much bigger than he’d ever thought.
“Tuomas.”
He spun around, and came face to face with Lumi.
She reached out a hand, but stopped. Tuomas realised the protective circle was still in place – it had been cast to keep out everything not human, not just demons. Her palm pressed against it like a sheet of clear ice.
“I’ll come to you,” he said, and stepped forward, through the barrier.
It was a strange feeling: a sharp tug against his face. Usually circles evaporated as soon as they were touched, but Lilja and Aino must have cast this one particularly strong.
Lumi lowered her hand. Her eyes glowed a soft turquoise.
“I am glad to see you are feeling better,” she said.
“Thanks. How are you?” he asked.
“I am fine.” She glanced up and down his body. “You have lost weight.”
“It happens when you’re sick,” said Tuomas. “Lumi, listen… I need to talk to you.”
She stood still, waiting for him to continue.
“You knew who I was, didn’t you?” he asked. “The… Son of the Sun.”
Lumi hesitated for a moment.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was not sure it would be best for you. You had a life, a mission you needed to accomplish. I simply became ensnared in it when you summoned me.”
Tuomas frowned.
“You kept quiet because you didn’t want to confuse me? You knew it would hurt me to know?”
Lumi’s ears twitched.
“But how is it possible?” he muttered. “Kari said that it’s my life-soul… that it came down here.”
“That is correct,” she said. “I knew it was you from the moment you put me in this body. When you left the World Above, your life-soul was reborn into the form of a human child. That is what enabled that child – that man – to become the greatest mage ever known. And then he led the way south to form a new village, but died on the way. Because he sacrificed his immortality to
help the people.”
“I know. The village was Akerfjorden,” Tuomas finished. “But wait… in the legend, you were there, too. It’s why everyone is so scared of you: you ripped out his life-soul.”
Lumi’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes, I did. But not for the reasons you are thinking. You… he… was drowning. I had to make sure the life-soul would be safe. Pulling it out was the only way.”
Tuomas blinked. “So… you didn’t… kill him? That’s not why he drowned?”
Lumi recoiled in horror.
“Of course not! I never would! And I cannot kill. I can take a soul, but one soul only. The Carrying One – the Spirit of Passage – is the only Spirit who may take both.”
Tuomas looked at her. Even the story, so branded onto everyone’s consciousness that it could have been a living memory, was wrong? Would anything be simple anymore?
“It makes sense that you should have been born at that same village in this life,” Lumi carried on. “And at midsummer, too.”
“But… that story is older than the oldest man in Akerfjorden,” said Tuomas. “That life-soul had to have gone into others before me.”
“Not necessarily,” Lumi replied. “Life-souls and body-souls do not come back in a new form the moment their old one dies. And the life-soul of a Spirit responds to power. Do you honestly think I would have let you pull me out of the sky if I could not fight back?”
She had a point.
“It was Lilja and Kari,” he realised. “They were in Akerfjorden when I was born. Lilja said that too much power in one place rarely ends well – that was why they left afterwards.”
“Taika to taika,” agreed Lumi.
“Wait… they couldn’t have arranged for me to have that life-soul, could they?”
“Of course not. Even they are not that strong. But Lilja carries the touch of the Great Bear Spirit, the most powerful of us all. That alone would have been enough to bring that life-soul into your body.”
Tuomas sighed. “Lilja betrayed me. Sigurd sent her away.”
“I know.”
Lumi’s tail twitched behind her back.
“You and I were together in the World Above, before the first herders walked here,” she said. “We knew each other. You thought the Silver One was your mother, and I thought the Golden One was mine. But then the Sun told me the truth, and I told you. And you jumped out of the sky to get away. I tried to pull you back but it was too late.
“Not long after, I first danced my Lights through the sky. I looked down on you – your life-soul – whenever I could. I saw your death and rebirth. I watched you grow. Every single time you turned your eyes to the aurora, I was looking back at you.
“I am the White Fox One, and you are the Red Fox One. In another story, we might have swept up the Lights together, side by side. We are opposites, yet the same. No matter what forms we take, we are bound.”
She sighed. “I would give anything to take you back there. Back home, with me.”
Tuomas looked into her eyes, and noticed the emotion she was barely holding back. It seemed she was trying to not burst into tears.
But Lumi didn’t cry. She couldn’t cry.
“Please, be honest with me,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Lumi pressed her lips together. For a moment Tuomas thought she wasn’t going to reply. But then she smiled, and it was the widest, most genuine expression he had ever seen on her face.
“Because I care about you,” she said. “No matter the circumstances of me being here… it was all worth it, to see you again. My brother.”
She reached out and grasped his hands, gently so as to not hurt him.
Tuomas froze. She had never willingly come this close to him.
She was like holding light itself: cold and smooth, no weight at all. Her very touch made him shiver. It reminded him starkly that she was not of this realm; that only the body he had bound her in kept her from lifting into the air.
It struck him how even now, she was formless. Although he could see her face, her flesh, even individual strands of white hair, it was nothing. She reminded him of how water would take the shape of the cup or kettle which held it. Under her pristine skin, he faintly noticed the same shifting colours which danced behind her eyes, like the subtle sheen of pearl within a shell.
Then he felt something wet seeping through his mittens. He pulled himself free and held Lumi at arm’s length.
She was soaked from head to toe. The water was coming out of her, running over her skin like a summer rain… or a melting icicle.
Horror rattled him.
“What’s happening to you?” he gasped.
Lumi’s expression transformed from joy to unease.
“Stay there,” he snapped, fighting to keep panic under control. Then he ran back towards the village, leaving the pail behind.
When he reached the mage’s hut, he pounded on the door.
“Aino!” he cried.
She peered out in alarm, rubbing her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked through a yawn. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“Aino, please come here,” Tuomas said. “Quickly!”
Aino disappeared for a moment to put her shoes on, then stepped outside, tying her coat shut in mid-step. Not wanting anyone else to overhear the conversation, Tuomas beckoned for her to follow, and the two of them hurried back to the outskirts of the village.
“What’s wrong?” Aino asked again. “Tuomas, I barely got back from the shrine an hour ago. I had to purify it after everything that happened; I’m drained.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency,” said Tuomas.
Then Aino saw Lumi.
She gasped and almost fell over, her eyes so wide, Tuomas thought they might fall out of their sockets. Lumi gave her one of her unblinking stares and Aino lowered her head in respect.
“It is an honour to receive you,” she said nervously. Then she glanced at Tuomas. “How do you know the Spirit of the Lights?”
“It’s my fault she’s here,” he said. “I pulled her out of the World Above, and I need to send her back.”
In an instant, Aino’s face changed.
“So that’s why you were on your way to the Northern Edge of the World.”
“Yes. But Lilja and I kept quiet because we didn’t want to scare anyone. And she stayed away – we respected that she wouldn’t want anybody to know.”
“I understand,” said Aino, her eyes constantly moving back to Lumi. She shook her head in wonder.
“How did you even manage to get her into this form? You’re just a boy.”
Lumi pressed her lips together, but didn’t respond. Tuomas hurriedly changed the subject.
“Something’s wrong with her,” he said. “She was as cold and crisp as snow at first. But now… I think she’s melting.”
Aino’s brows rose. She regarded Lumi with a new level of interest, tentatively reaching out towards her face as though afraid she would bite.
“May I?” she asked.
Lumi kept eye contact with her, but gave the slightest nod.
Aino slipped her hand out of her mitten and pushed through the circle to feel Lumi’s forehead. When she drew away, her fingers were slick with water.
Tuomas’s breathing quickened. He had first noticed the wetness on Lumi’s skin when they reached the Northern Edge of the World. Back then, it had just been a sheen. Now, it looked as though she had jumped into a lake. Even her starry dress seemed duller.
Aino lowered her hand. Tuomas noticed it was shaking a little.
“You have been in this realm too long, Spirit,” she said. “You have begun to feel, to recognise human emotions. And they are too warm, too human, for the World you come from.”
Tuomas froze with realisation.
The bond between them, which she had mentioned only moments ago, was slowly destroying her from the inside out.
“So what do we do?” he asked, his mouth dry.
A
ino pulled her mitten back on.
“I don’t need to tell you. She needs to go back into the World Above. The sooner, the better. But I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
Tuomas had expected as much.
“Lilja couldn’t, either. It has to be me.”
“I won’t be much help to you at all,” said Aino. “I am a mage, yes, but I deal with healing the sick, communing with the Spirits for good fortune… my taika is not as strong as Lilja’s. Or even yours, boy. I can sense it coming off you.”
“Could you sense it before?” he asked. “When we first arrived, I mean?”
“Yes. But not like now. Before, it was like the gentle trickle of a river. Now, the current has risen. Your power feels warmer, more alive, since you returned from the mountain.”
Tuomas and Lumi shared a glance. They didn’t speak, but the same thought passed between them. Up on the mountain, Kari had told Tuomas the truth.
Tuomas laid a hand over his chest. He still couldn’t quite believe it – let alone think of Kari without panic flaring. But that revelation must have done something to his taika, whether he’d recognised it or not.
Aino didn’t seem to notice his unease, because she continued talking.
“You need to keep a hold on that power, Tuomas. Especially now your apprenticeship with Lilja… has come to an end. But since she’s left us, I think I do know someone who can assist you.”
Tuomas suppressed a groan. How many people and places would they have to go to in the name of so-called help? Mihka seemed further away than ever. He began to wonder if he would ever pass his test and undo everything, or if he would be roaming the Northlands forever in this never-ending quest.
He looked at the sky. The Sun Spirit was truly gone now; this should be when the aurora was at its strongest. Yet Lumi was melting away before him like ice in a spring thaw. And the constant darkness wouldn’t last for much longer. Soon the light would return, and spell the end of the Long Night for another year.
Lumi struggled enough in the faint twilight, and refused to go near any kind of heat. If she wasn’t back in the World Above before the darkness ended, she would surely disappear. And so would any chance of Mihka’s survival.