The Wolf in the Whale

by Jordanna Max Brodsky

  Floppy Eared could not be contained. He feinted at Hare and Ptarmigan, crouched before Ice Bear and offered to play, leapt in the air to taunt Raven. Singarti watched complacently as he padded along beside Caribou, their ancient enmity forgotten for one night.

  Brandr walked beside me, his eyes wide in wonder at the assembled beasts. He could not see the great spirits, but the animals of flesh were shocking enough. He kept a hand on Sweet One’s back, seeking reassurance in her familiar presence.

  “Remember,” I said to him, “we seek to break the ice and send the Greenlanders off with their tails between their legs. You need only appear fierce to convince Freydis. She’s already dreamed you’re coming after her, so it won’t take much. You don’t need to risk your life.”

  He nodded and took a practice swing with his gleaming sword. I felt a creeping unease about his role in this.

  A slow lightening of the sky, from black to blue, began in the east. The Moon and stars still gazed upon us, but the Sun hid just beneath the horizon, waiting for her ascendance.

  We came within sight of the knarrs. The men onboard waited at the rail, an undifferentiated mass of silhouettes. Only Freydis stood out, her orange hair a fire among coals.

  I looked to Muirenn, who nodded at me with Loki’s easy confidence. I glanced at the sky and prayed that Issuk had succeeded in securing Taqqiq’s help.

  “Now!”

  The screams of raptors and the sharp caws of ravens filled the air. A black-and-white swarm, barely visible in the still-dark sky, hurtled toward the Norse archers, heedless of the arrows fletched with the feathers of their kin.

  The Greenlanders ducked, shielding their faces from talon and beak. They tripped and tumbled over the lemmings that had climbed the knarr’s side and swarmed across the deck like ants.

  Bears stood on their hind legs and crashed forward with their massive paws to break the ice, just as they did to open a seal’s den. But tonight, bear and seal worked together. Seals scraped at the underside of the sea ice with their teeth as the bears pounded from above. Caribou and musk oxen ran in wide circles around the knarrs in a stamping, bugling, lowing herd, weakening the ice with their sharp hooves.

  Brandr and I rushed forward with the wolfdogs leading the way, slavering and snarling as if Valkyries rode upon their backs.

  And then, the moment I’d been waiting for. A shout. A new cry of alarm. Bjarni, his shoulder bandaged, stood beside the dragon prow, his good arm pointing past me toward the distant shore.

  The brightening sky had brought the inuksuit into view. From here they looked like giants indeed, summoned from the earth itself to guard my people. The flocks of birds rose into the air like a black mist, angling away from the ships as if they, too, feared the stone giants’ approach.

  I heard Freydis’s cry, urging her men not to flee. “Stay and fight! This is the battle foretold! Do not fear this skraeling magic!”

  But my skraeling magic had just begun.

  The Moon dragged dark, towering clouds across the sky, wrapping darkness around him like a seal fur cape. He hid his face. He hid the stars. Thunder drummed, echoing off the mountains, an angakkuq’s song gone mad. Lightning lit the ice with a sharp blue glow.

  The wolfdogs crouched, tails between their legs, shaking. And I felt a surge of fear—this was more than I’d expected.

  “It does not storm like this in winter!” Brandr shouted to me over the din. “What’s going on?”

  Muirenn stood with the ease of a much younger woman and looked beyond the knarrs, to the vastness of the frozen sea. A lopsided smile spread across her face, making her look half-crazed.

  A new peal of thunder thrummed through my bones—not from the sky, this time, but from the sea. At the bases of the knarrs, the ice swelled and rolled, thrusting up great icebergs as it went. Sanna, I thought at first. But then I realized such power could only be Taqqiq’s.

  “The Moon brings his tide!” I exulted. “He frees the ships!”

  But my joy turned quickly to horror as the buckling wave increased in speed and rolled inexorably toward us. The knarrs would float—but we would drown.

  “What’s happening?” I begged Muirenn. “Taqqiq’s supposed to help us!”

  The old woman’s eyes grew suddenly distant, as if she listened through the thunder, through the roar of the ice, to a voice very far away. A tear rolled down her lined cheek. She looked at me, her gaze full of pity and regret.

  “He comes to kill you, child.”

  I shook my head numbly, unable to speak. I could barely believe that even now, when I had asked for his forgiveness and nearly chased the invaders from our shores, Taqqiq could not forget his hatred. The old fear seized me. I had seen his eyes. I had felt his touch. Now, once more, I had put myself within his power.

  Muirenn shouted above the groaning ice and clashing thunder. “He’ll kill us all if you don’t stop him, Omat! A sacrifice must be made!”

  Brandr grabbed the old woman by the shoulders and shook her. “A sacrifice? What are you saying? What do you know of Omat and her gods? This has nothing to do with her! We must turn back!”

  “We won’t make it to land!” Muirenn insisted, just as the rolling tide flung us high into the air. We crashed back onto the bucking ice, struggling for a handhold.

  Small cracks spread around us, as fast and jagged as the lightning bolts that now split the sky.

  The stone inuksuit swayed and shook as if possessed with spirits of their own. “Go to Taqqiq!” Muirenn screamed once more over the thunder. “Fly! Or we’ll all die. You needn’t be a raven—I’ll give you the strength to go in your human form!”

  Brandr hauled himself across the shifting ice toward me. “She’s gone mad, Omat! We’re getting out of here together.”

  “No—she’s right! I can’t run any longer. I must go to the Moon.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me!”

  White Paw dashed forward, her claws skittering on the shifting ice. She butted me with her head, worrying the sleeve of my dress with her teeth as if to hold me down.

  “Stay back!” I growled, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck. “You, too,” I barked as Floppy Eared and Sweet One made their way toward me. “Stay! Look after Brandr.” I didn’t bother to admonish the wolfdogs to look after themselves. Wolves who could transform into whales would not fear the bucking ice. “Be strong, Brandr. And listen to Muirenn—she’s wiser than you know.”

  Brandr seized my arm in an iron grip. “You’re not leaving me.” He was no wolfdog to be commanded. I knew then that he wouldn’t let me go unless I lied.

  “Not forever,” I assured him. “My human body will be right here in a trance. You’ve seen me do it before. I just need to talk to the Moon.”

  He laughed caustically. “Oh, is that all?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Muirenn said sacrifice.” He tightened his grip. “I heard her.”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Promise you’ll be back.”

  “Of course. Since when have I been wrong?”

  “I know, I know. Your people bring down whales.” There was no laughter in his voice, only bitterness. “You killed a bear three times your size. Geese fall from the sky in fear when you approach. How much harder could this be?”

  I forced a twisted smile. “So let me go, my friend.”

  “Omat!” Muirenn interrupted. “The ice won’t hold much longer!”

  I couldn’t tear my gaze from the red-haired Viking at my side. “Brandr…”

  “I know…” He pressed a desperate kiss on my lips. “If anyone can survive this,” he whispered, “it’s you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  I did not bind my body for this journey. There was no time.

  I lay on the swelling ice and screamed my chant at the stars.

  As Loki-in-Muirenn had promised, I needed no raven wings to reach the sky. The god’s power bore my spirit aloft in the shape of my own body. The wi
nd burned my human flesh as it never had my raven’s feathers. I closed my eyes to slits against the stinging cold. Frost glazed my hair into tiny knives, slicing my cheeks as I flew upward.

  I was not alone. Singarti, white coat gleaming as brightly as the Moon himself, climbed through the heavens with the stars as his stepping-stones, leaping from one to the next. I followed, jumping the vast distances of oblivion as if skipping over narrow creek beds.

  Together we conquered the sky and strode across the vast, frozen plain on the face of the Moon, an icy world colder than the deepest winter on earth. Before us rose Taqqiq’s iglu. Blue light shone through its wide ice window, interrupted by the agitated pacing of a dark shadow within.

  Singarti’s nose twitched, and his ears thrust backward. I understood well enough.

  My enemy awaited, and I must go on alone.

  I bowed my head to the great Wolf. “Thank you for bringing me this far.”

  He licked my cheek, a final goodbye, then turned and bounded off into the distance.

  I was alone once more. Steps away from the end of everything.

  It won’t be so bad, I thought. I will see Ataata and Ipaq. I will finally meet my mother and grandmother. And on winter nights, I will play the kicking game among the stars.

  All of it was a slim recompense for the loss of Brandr’s smile.

  I crawled into the Moon’s vast iglu.

  “Omat.” My name rushed through his lips like a winter storm. He was much as I remembered him. Paler even than a Norseman, bald, his naked body etched with muscle. The soot mark on his forehead wrinkled as he raised his hairless brows in shock. Deep shadows ringed his eyes.

  “I come as a sacrifice.”

  My voice did not quaver, but his did, thrumming with barely concealed excitement. “The Inuk I have hunted for so long. I did not expect to see you in my realm again.”

  “Do whatever you want to me, but leave the others alone. This fight has always been ours.”

  He moved a step closer; the cold wafting off his body raised the hair on my arms. “Whatever I want?” The Moon placed an icy fingertip on my chin and tilted my face toward his. “I have wanted many things. When you first slipped from your mother’s bloody womb, I wanted you dead in your snowy cradle. Then Singarti saved you, and I realized you might be more help than hindrance to my cause. You have played your part well. I have no need of you any longer, but now that you are here… I might keep you alive. Keep you with me to warm my flesh when my sister is out of reach.”

  “Make up your mind, Taqqiq,” I said through gritted teeth. “Take me or destroy me, as you will.” I did not tell him the truth: that I would die either way. I would kill myself before I let him lie with me. “The ice is broken; the Norse ships are free to leave. Now stop the tides before you kill us all.”

  “Stop the tides? Oh no, little angakkuq-that-was. Your body is not payment enough for that.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, growing impatient with his riddles. “Loki said you wanted me. I had to sacrifice myself.”

  “He lied.”

  I slashed my hand through the air, refusing to believe, but the Moon pressed on. “Your death is the least of my concerns. I have more important things to destroy. You have gathered all the gods, old and new, Inuit and Norse, together in one place.”

  “What Norse gods? Only Loki’s down there.”

  “Who do you think brings the thunder? Not I. Not Sila, who cares so little for the workings of the world. That’s Thor’s work. Summoned by the prayers of his faithful.”

  Freydis. I remembered the hammer pendant at her throat. Loki said the Greenlanders brought him here on the wings of their prayers. I had not counted on their bringing the other gods as well. Dread tightened my throat. I have left my friends alone to face the might of the Aesir—they must be warned.

  Taqqiq huffed. “Where are you going, little girl? You think to return to earth—how? You have no strength left for raven’s wings. Loki helped you get here, but he will not help you go back. He wants you out of the way. You forgot he is the Trickster, and this is his greatest trick.”

  “I don’t understand.” The words sounded weak, pitiful. But I had no others.

  “He seeks to fight his final battle with all the spirits of our world arrayed around him. Sanna, Singarti, Uqsuralik—and you and your Brandr, too—all have fallen prey to him. But not I.” The Moon Man thrust back his shoulders. “I have tricked the Trickster. My tides will drown them all before the fight has even begun.”

  “No… no…,” I stuttered. “That can’t be true.”

  “I always said you would destroy the world—”

  “I seek to save it!”

  “Yet you’ve brought it all to an end. Sanna and the animals would not gather at my command—only at your request. Now they will all perish. Not just the Norsemen. Not just your lover and your dogs. But Sanna and Singarti and Uqsuralik, too, and every strange new god who has dared to enter my realm. With them gone, only my sister and I will reign.” He laughed. “And my sister—she only runs, always runs.”

  I staggered backward as if struck. Had I done this? Had I led them all to their end? I’d known Taqqiq had no love for the other spirits, but I hadn’t thought he would dare destroy them all.

  “I will not let you kill them.”

  “No? What will you do? What can a mortal do against a great spirit?”

  “It is you who know little,” I answered darkly, remembering what Loki had told me of the endless circle between gods and men. “We create you through our tales, our prayers, our belief. Without us, you are nothing.”

  “And you will convince all Inuit to cease their worship of me?” he asked contemptuously. “I have nothing to fear from you.”

  I pulled Brandr’s knife from my belt. “Yet if what you say is true, gods will die tonight. If they are not immortal, then neither are you.”

  “And with what will you slay me?” he scoffed. “With that knife? Do you think steel can bring down the Moon? Do not forget what power I hold over you.”

  “You can make me bleed. Yes, I know. Well, I am no longer scared of my own blood. I am no longer scared of being a woman—it doesn’t make me any less a man. I am both. I am neither. I am only myself.”

  The Moon Man’s white face allowed no flush, but he drew his hairless brows low over his eyes. His lips curled back from perfect teeth in a snarl. “I command the tides. I could pull that orange-haired mate of yours into the sea.”

  “Brandr will live a little longer yet. Long enough for me to stop you.”

  His eyes flashed with red. Issuk’s, I remembered, had done the same. In that moment, I finally understood Taqqiq’s place in the world. “They say a bird-man with glowing eyes stole Sanna from her family. Issuk became that bird when Sanna sent him here, to tell you of our need. But he’s more than your grandson. He’s a part of you. Over and over, you steal our bodies for yourself. You rape your sister. Sanna. Me. Each a woman of power, brought low beneath a man’s touch.” I brandished my small knife.

  “So now you think to kill me,” Taqqiq said, smirking, “and take your revenge?”

  “Not just my revenge. I come for Sanna. And for Malina. And for all Inuit women.”

  “I have nothing to fear from you.”

  I smiled faintly. He was nearly right. “But you do from your sister.”

  “Malina? My sister has been running from me throughout all time!”

  “The Sun shines brighter than you ever will. You wax and wane while she stays constant. She has been hiding, but today she returns. And this time, she will have no reason to run. Can you hear me, Malina?” I cried suddenly, willing my voice to travel through the iglu walls, through the void of space to the Sun’s ears. “Listen, great Sun—the Norse call you Sol, and your brother they call Mani. They know of you both, yet they have no stories of rape and flight.”

  “Quiet, girl,” Taqqiq hissed.

  “Hear me, Malina! You have a choice! You can change your story, as I ha
ve!”

  Taqqiq grabbed my arm with frozen fingers and dragged me closer. With his other hand, he reached for my throat.

  “Enough, angakkuq!” he growled, his eyes suddenly afraid. No, I was no threat alone, but with Malina’s help, I might have a chance.

  Once more, I stood in the Moon’s embrace, my life in his hands. But this time, I was armed with a new story. Brandr had told me mere mistletoe had killed immortal Baldur. It’s a reminder that you cannot save the innocent, he’d said. But I heard a different meaning: with enough cunning, even the weak and small can kill an invincible god.

  Taqqiq’s fingers closed around my neck; his hooded eyes glowed dimly red. I did not struggle or scream. I let my body go limp. My vision darkened as the breath fled my body.

  “Enough,” Taqqiq said again, an icy whisper against my cheek.

  Then the Moon’s eyes widened. A trickle of red ran from the corner of his white lips. A blinding shaft of yellow sunlight pierced the window and struck sparks from the hilt of my knife—the knife I now twisted deeper beneath his rib cage.

  “Yes, enough,” I gasped as his fingers fell from my throat.

  The Moon crumpled to the ground, clutching the welling wound in his gut. Around me the white world swayed and dimmed as I fought to suck air into my lungs, my throat still burning from Taqqiq’s grasp.

  “You cannot kill me,” he sputtered, his face contorted with rage.

  “No. But now she can.”

  The sunlight grew stronger, falling upon Taqqiq’s upturned face. The iglu melted around us in the sudden heat. There, striding across the white plain, a figure clothed in brilliant light. I turned away from her blinding glare, but not before I glimpsed a round, young face with gleaming brown skin, wreathed in white braids twined with bright yellow poppies. Blood, crimson and scarlet and ochre, stained her misshapen chest. Malina. Sun Woman.

  The Moon covered his face with his hands and screamed as his sister approached, faster now, lifting the apron of her shining parka so she could run. The stench of burning flesh filled my nostrils. Black soot spread across the backs of Taqqiq’s hands as the Sun’s rays scorched his skin. He screeched with pain and thrust his hands against the ice at his feet.