by E. C. Hibbs
“All of it?”
“Yes. He seems to be the worst of them all today. I’ll make some more later for the other youngsters.”
He placed a crooked hand on Tuomas’s shoulder and steered him away to speak privately.
“The shrine is close,” he said. “We need to go there now.”
“Mihka has it too,” Tuomas said. “He’s started coughing. Are they going to be alright?”
“I hope so. They’re both strong,” Henrik replied.
“But?”
“There is no but. We just manage it as best we can, and they fight it as hard as they can.”
Henrik walked to the sleigh and leaned over the side to speak with Maiken.
“Go ahead of us,” he said. “We’ll meet you further along the route.”
“Can you catch up?” she asked.
“Yes, even if it’s tonight at the camp,” Henrik assured. “This is important.”
Maiken nodded in agreement. There was no way they could halt the whole herd; the reindeer would keep going until after dark, and the people had no choice but to follow.
Tuomas placed his jerky pouch into the sleigh beside Paavo, so he would have food if he wanted any. Then he covered him with a blanket and tucked it around his chin. Paavo half-heartedly slapped his hands away.
“Stop babying me,” he said.
“Stop acting tough,” Thomas shot back.
Paavo glared, but his eyes were hazy and unfocused, and belied how weak he really was. He managed a small smile before he started coughing again.
“Watch out for the boy,” he muttered.
Tuomas frowned. “What?”
A muscle twitched in Paavo’s cheek. When he exhaled, Tuomas heard the crackle of liquid in his lungs.
“The little boy…” Paavo said again. His words fell over each other in a frail garble.
“Hush, now,” Maiken said gently.
“He’s hallucinating,” Henrik said. “Give him water as well as that tea. And try to get him eating. Let him sleep if he needs to, but make sure he can breathe.”
Tuomas stepped away, barely able to hide his alarm. Elin had said something about a boy too.
When he looked up, she was coming towards them, her skis under one arm. She presented them to Henrik with a nod of respect.
“Take these,” she insisted. “I can ride in a sleigh.”
“Thank you, girl,” said Henrik.
Tuomas wanted to question her, but Henrik had already started tying the skis onto his shoes; he was eager to go. He threw an expectant glance at Tuomas, so he did the same. He could speak to her when they got back.
Elin jumped into a nearby sleigh and threw them a wave of farewell as the herd moved on. Mihka had also given up walking and joined Sisu in another sleigh, wrapped in so many furs, he looked like a reindeer himself. He caught Tuomas’s eye and hurriedly wiped a line of blood from his chin.
Chapter Seven
Without a word, Henrik and Tuomas began their hike. Tuomas knew roughly where the shrine was, but he had never been to it before, so he let Henrik lead the way. He was immediately thankful for the skis – walking on such powdery snow without them could be gruelling.
“We take our cues from the reindeer,” Paavo had once said to him when he was younger. “You see how their hooves splay out and stop them from sinking? We don’t have hooves, so we make them from wood. But our hooves are long too, so we can slide!”
It wasn’t long before they reached the shrine: a huge boulder deposited in the middle of the empty tundra. By itself, it looked unremarkable, but it was the only type of its kind: different from everything else around it. That made it powerful. Offerings from the previous migration lay all over its surface: antlers, bone carvings, pieces of woven material, all encrusted with ice and frozen in place.
Henrik brushed some snow off a natural seat in the boulder and sat down with a groan. Whilst he nursed his knees, Tuomas set to work spinning a protective circle. He had learned from past mistakes to not take any chances, but it was especially true at somewhere like this, where nature itself allowed the Worlds to touch.
He swept a hand around the entire shrine, feeling the taika lay itself down into the snow as an invisible yet impenetrable barrier. When it was secure, he built a small fire and joined Henrik on the seat. As soon as he touched it, he shuddered. The rock took his weight as he knew it would, yet it also felt as thin as reindeer skin, as though just beneath it, the space between the realms was pressing in upon itself.
He knew Henrik had felt it as well, because the old mage threw him a knowing glance. He untied his drum from his belt and held it above the flame, getting it ready for the work ahead. Tuomas did the same. When the skin was taught, they laid the instruments across their laps.
Henrik’s new drum was smaller than his old one, and the skin was pale in comparison, with the alder juice ink of the symbols still a vivid red. But when he struck it, it let out a fine sound which reverberated through Tuomas’s bones.
“Are you ready, boy?” Henrik asked.
Tuomas nodded.
“We’ll make an offering. Cut some of your hair.”
Both of them drew knives and sheared off a lock. Henrik rolled the strands in his palm until his white ones were peppered with Tuomas’s blonde ones, then cast them onto the rock.
“Know our intention,” Henrik continued. “We will ask for the Sun Spirit.”
“Alright,” Tuomas said. “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
Henrik offered him a gentle smile, then raised his hammer. Tuomas did the same, and in unison, they brought the antlers down.
Tuomas closed his eyes as the rhythm began, reaching deep, sweeping him up and away. It felt like so long since he had heard this beautiful, simple sound. It was the music of the things beneath the skin, of nature’s heartbeat, rising and falling with every strike.
He sensed his taika growing: the lingonberry taste, the sight of lazy evening light dappling a pool, the golden glow of an endless day and the smell of wild flowers on a sweet southern breeze. He started to chant. He didn’t try to form words – there was no need for them, just like in the World Above. He wasn’t capturing a thing, but becoming that thing.
His souls slackened inside him. He didn’t fight it, just carried on chanting, holding the intention in his mind; gently, as though it were alive.
His body rocked back and forth as he separated from it. The cold disappeared; the rock beneath him melted like thawing ice. And then he was floating in nothingness, surrounded by it, wrapped in its invisible embrace.
For a long moment, there was nothing. He couldn’t sense Henrik anywhere. He reminded himself not to panic; he focused on the drumbeats, clutched the intention to his chest. His heart slowed to match the rhythm.
Then he felt a presence drawing close to him. He recognised heat first, which grew into light and a stream of waving gold.
I see you, the Sun Spirit said. I hear you calling for me, my son.
We need your help, he said. He let the words become formless in his mind, and they sounded older than the body below him. He spoke with the part of him which did not belong to the humans.
Why are the children and young adults sick? he asked. How can we help them? Does it have something to do with the stars falling?
The Sun Spirit swelled and blanketed him in her light.
You cannot fight this with remedies, she said. Many mages before you have tried, and all they have achieved is the knowledge to ease the pain.
Isn’t it physical? It’s not a cold or influenza?
No. But neither is it mental. If it were those things, I would lift it away and let it be healed. There is no strength of body for me to give; no madness of mind to chase away. This is something more… a different breed of plague.
Tuomas reached out towards her. What is it?
It is a soul plague. Beings have brought it to the people.
Dread filled him.
He recalled the feel of the knife, the smell, one blinded eye…
A being? It’s another wicked mage? Or a demon? Has Kari come back? Please tell me he hasn’t come back…
He has not returned. He is elsewhere, the Sun Spirit whispered.
Is he still in the World Below? Please, I need to know.
Yes, and there he will remain. Do not worry. He will never touch you again.
Relief melted around him. He allowed himself to drift through her warmth as it enfolded him like an embrace.
If it’s not Kari or another like him, he said, then what is it?
Something older. Much older, replied the Golden One. It is the work of creatures from the void between the Worlds, rising every generation to take the young. And with them is something of flesh and blood, but yet not. Something once living… perhaps still living… perhaps not still living…
Her words brought back a memory of being on the ice, engulfed by the mist, hearing the slippery sound behind him. He tried to see into her meanings, to find a face to put with the noise, but nothing came. It tugged at some deep part of him, buried just out of reach.
The beings are called draugars, said the Sun Spirit. You have dealt with them before, but you have forgotten it. They are wicked things. You must avoid the mist at all costs; if you touch it, they will be alerted to your presence and come for you.
Tuomas froze in the air.
That’s what the noise was on the Mustafjord, he realised. And why Lumi tried to stop me from coming back. Why? What do they want from me?
Your taika. You are a Spirit, my dear. There is nothing else like you in the World Between. Beware them.
I don’t understand.
There is one who will.
A face appeared in Tuomas’s mind. He watched it take shape, spinning out of the yellow light as though it were threads being woven into a pattern. There was a coat with sleeves of white reindeer fur; two long sandy braids; a scar stretching from left to right across the throat.
Lilja: the wandering mage who wanders no more, the Golden One said. She will have the answers. Seek her out. Bring forth the secret she has locked deep inside, and you will know.
He stared at Lilja. Even though he knew she was only an image, he felt as though he could reach out and touch her.
The Sun Spirit drew closer and enclosed him even tighter in her delicious warmth. It was a perfect feeling; sheer bliss. He basked in it like a child, never wanting to let it go.
But he knew he had to. His body was tugging at him, anchoring him to the World Between, back down in that place of gravity and hard edges.
He bid her thanks and farewell, and started to descend. But as soon as he was out of her sight, a huge silvery bulk suddenly rose before him.
He wasn’t blinded as he had been when he’d seen the Sun Spirit. This wasn’t as bright as her. In his mind’s eye, he sensed a tall, thin woman; much like his mother, and yet the opposite to her. The flaming golden hair was dark and thin; her face was pockmarked with craters and mountains larger than any in the World Between; her fingers extended like spider legs and shadows fell upon her so harshly that she seemed hollow.
He shuddered. He knew who this was.
Silver One, he said.
I have not seen you in a long time, Red Fox One, said the Moon Spirit. Her voice was colder than ice; colder even than Lumi. He felt night closing around him; the dampness of holes in the earth; the crisp smell of incoming rain. She surrounded him with it, blocking them both off from everything else.
My sister and daughter kept you away from me when you were in the World Above, she continued. How I longed to see you. You were always welcome with me, dear little one. You always are.
Tuomas was filled with fright. He hadn’t intended to see anyone but the Sun Spirit. He needed to get back, but as he gently tested the boundaries around him, he realised she wasn’t going to release him.
He would have to tread with care. She was arguably the most dangerous and prideful Spirit of them all. He saw Lumi in her, and yet even his sister seemed like a gentle snowfall in the face of the blizzard of energy before him. This was the greatest winter Spirit: the eye which peered down upon the World Between through the Long Dark, forever watching and judging as she blinked from full to new. For as bright as she was, she was an entity of pure darkness.
Why did you not come to me? the Moon Spirit whispered. You are my son. I raised you, my beautiful boy.
If we are asking questions, I have one for you, he said, hating how scared he sounded. Why did you switch me with her?
The White Fox One? came the snide reply. That vain and angry little girl? Who was she compared to you, my sweet? Who was she, who could do nothing but remind me of coldness and gloom? And then there you were, so beautiful, so perfect… everything which should have been mine. You were mine, dear thing. I may not have borne you, but I raised you. You came into yourself by my doing. You owe all you are to me.
Tuomas hesitated. Her words lit a fury in him like fire – how could she bear to speak so cruelly of her own daughter? He pictured Lumi in her ethereal grace; her faultless dances and the care with which she cradled a soul. As revered as she was, no matter how harsh she could be, she hadn’t deserved such abandonment.
The Moon Spirit sensed his anger. She floated closer and wrapped herself around him. There was no physical touch, yet he still felt it and recoiled.
Where is the Golden One? he asked. Where is Lumi?
The Moon Spirit scoffed. You still call her by that ridiculous human name? There is no need for names among our kind, my dear. You know that.
Tuomas stood his ground. Where are they?
Somewhere far away. I did not wish for our reunion to be disturbed, replied the Silver One. I will not be kept from you. Not now you are aware, once again, of who you truly are. And where you truly belong.
She pressed him against her. Despite himself, he let out a whimper. It was nothing like the feeling of the Sun Spirit holding him. It was hard and oppressive; not a gesture of love, but of ownership.
I do not want the White Fox One. I never did. I want you, she whispered inside his mind. Come back to me. Return to the World Above and let me be your mother again, my dear Red Fox One. Be with me as you were always meant to be.
He stayed deathly still. The grip around him was loose, but he also knew it could crush him like a fly. He had thought that nothing could be more terrifying than a furious Lumi running at him, on the night he’d first spoken with her, but that was quashed in an instant. The Moon Spirit was so much stronger than her daughter; deeper, darker, colder…
Tuomas steeled himself and pulled away from her.
I have… a life in the World Between, he said cautiously. I have a brother, friends…
Who will soon die, the Moon Spirit sneered. And others after them will die, forever coming back, over and over again until the end of time. Such is the way of life-souls, dear. But not for you. You are a Spirit; you are not like them. You can never be like them.
But I am, he insisted. I need to find Lilja… I have to help them. I have to go. Please let me go. They need me.
Like your precious humans needed you when you first left me? she retorted. And what of me? Did you not think I needed you, that night when you leapt from my grasp and allowed yourself to take the form of a screaming baby? I thought you had learned your lesson!
She drew close again, but Tuomas backed away so she couldn’t grab him again.
Why do you shrink from me? she demanded. Are you afraid?
Yes, he replied. I can’t remember what happened to make me leave, but I did it for a reason. And I’m living a new life now for a reason.
This is your home! cried the Moon Spirit. I am your mother!
A blaze of green suddenly broke through the barrier and shot between the two of them. It swirled around Tuomas in a massive flaming wall, and he saw Lumi hovering before him, her tail shooting red auroras in all directions.
No, you are not, Silver One! she snarle
d. You are no-one’s mother but mine, and he is the Son of the Sun! How dare you try to influence him like this! Did you think I would not notice?
The Moon pulsed with furious light. Stay out of this, White Fox One!
She tried to force her way forward, but Lumi whisked Tuomas further back.
He will return to the World Above when it is his time, Lumi snapped. I will hold his life-soul far from you. He shall be with his true mother again, and you must content yourself with me!
She flung a jet of green at the Moon Spirit. Tuomas heard it split the air like lightning. The Moon Spirit threw her own light straight back and it hit Lumi so hard, she cartwheeled through the night.
Lumi! Tuomas shouted.
She leapt in front of him again. His vision exploded. All around, he saw swathes of colour, shot through with silver. The Moon Spirit seized Lumi in an iron grip and they wrapped around each other, trying to get purchase.
Tuomas, go! Lumi shrieked.
Then everything went black and he wrenched his eyes open.
Chapter Eight
In an instant, he became heavier, shrank back to a single form, felt icy air drawing deep into his lungs. Henrik was bending over him, tea-breath blowing in his face. Tuomas quickly rolled over to get away from it, and realised with a jolt that he was lying in the snow. He must have tipped off the seat while in trance.
“What did you see?” Henrik asked.
“Just give me a moment,” Tuomas mumbled.
His entire body shook. He struggled to focus, but still saw only Lumi’s Lights. He peered up at the sky and noticed a furious aurora. Beside it was the Moon Spirit, half her face in shadow. He felt the pressure of their fight on his chest.
“Keep away…” Tuomas breathed. “I’m needed here…”
“What are you talking about, boy?”
Tuomas held his hands to his face. The flesh felt separate from himself, as though he was on the outside looking in.
“You came back too fast,” Henrik was saying. “Sit up carefully. Come on, now.”
He grasped Tuomas’s shoulders and set him against the shrine. Tuomas groaned as the blood rushed to his head. The surroundings spun around him as though they were made from water. Worried he would fall straight through the ground, he snatched hold of Henrik.