The Winter Spirits

by E. C. Hibbs

  Instead, he focused on her. She had her arms raised, like a child begging to be borne up in the arms of a parent.

  Lilja’s chant became mellow as she sung herself deeper. She rocked back and forth, still keeping the beat of the drum. Tuomas watched as the skin vibrated, the symbols bouncing with each strike of the hammer. Her voice was richer than Henrik’s; the drum’s timbre was deeper – unlike any mage song he’d ever heard. He found his hands digging into the snow, seeking some kind of anchor, lest he get pulled away with it.

  Then silence fell. It was so sudden, Tuomas worried for a moment that his life-soul had slipped away. He quickly ran his hands over his body, and found it solid. Good. That meant he was still there, still lucid.

  The swarm of taika evaporated, leaving only the cold night air in its place.

  Tuomas looked at Lilja. She was on her feet, eyes scanning the sky. Her brows knotted into a confused frown.

  Tuomas glanced around for an aurora, but saw nothing but stars.

  “Did it work?” he asked tentatively.

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth when the Spirit stepped forward and flung a green flash past him. It hit Lilja’s circle and rebounded into the trees.

  “I told you to put me back!" she shouted.

  Lilja shook her head. “I’m sorry. I tried.”

  The Spirit’s eyes turned blood red. Tuomas shrank back in alarm.

  “Can’t you try again? Please?” he muttered, wishing he could be inside the circle as well.

  “There’s no point. If it didn’t work this time, it won’t work at all,” said Lilja firmly. “I’m sorry, but it seems I don’t have the power. That’s some pretty strong taika you’ve used, boy.”

  Tuomas stared at her.

  “But… you’re the wandering mage! Henrik said how strong you are! You must be able to do it!”

  “Must I?” Lilja snapped. “Well, it turns out I can’t. So stop pressing me.”

  “You said you would put me back!” the Spirit raged.

  Without warning, she raised a hand and flew at Lilja, inhumanly fast. Her entire arm glowed with a ferocious aurora.

  Tuomas’s heart leapt. He knew what she would do; could see Mihka in front of him again, jolting back and forth as his life-soul was ripped away…

  Barely thinking, he jumped between them and seized the Spirit by the wrists.

  Her power and fury shot through him like electricity, and the two of them were thrown away from each other.

  Tuomas landed on his back. He gasped; it felt as though he had been struck by lightning and swallowed by an avalanche at the same time. He sat up as fast as he could, in case the Spirit tried to go after Lilja a second time.

  Instead, he found her also on the ground, the anger on her face replaced with shock. To his relief, the Lights had disappeared from her hands.

  He rolled onto all fours and crawled over. His entire body trembled from the impact with her.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  She glowered at him, but didn’t attack again. The redness in her eyes had also gone, now replaced with a ghostly turquoise.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “There’s no point trying to hurt Lilja like that,” he said in a low voice. “If she says she can’t do it, we have to accept she can’t. We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

  “You promise?” she scoffed, but it wasn’t as harsh as it could have been. “You are the one who trapped me here in the first place.”

  “I know. But it’s just as important to me that you go back. If you don’t, I lose my best friend, and I fail my mage test.”

  Tuomas sighed, trying to stop his arms shaking.

  “I know he’s a troublemaker, but I care about him. I hope you can understand that. I will find out how to send you back to the World Above; I swear it on my souls.”

  The Spirit pursed her lips, but nodded in assent.

  Tuomas stood and dusted off his trousers. When he got his trembling under control, he held out a hand out for her. To his surprise, she took it and allowed him to help her up.

  He realised that this was the first time he had actually touched her, besides when he had bundled her into the sleigh, and he marvelled at the smoothness of her skin. He was used to roughness and calluses: an occupational norm from a lifetime of herding and moving camps along the migration. But hers was like ice, completely pure and unblemished, and as cold as the snow she resembled. It was inhuman, otherworldly, yet strangely beautiful.

  Lilja broke her circle and busied herself with shoving everything back inside the shelter. When she removed her torso from the entrance, she brought a small axe with her, and tossed it at Tuomas.

  “Go and get some wood,” she said.

  He frowned at her abruptness – she didn’t even seem shaken from the attack. But he decided that after everything that had happened, a short time alone was more than welcome.

  He took the axe with a shrug and trudged away towards the trees.

  Chapter Seven

  The Spirit watched him go. The darkness swallowed him, leaving only a trail of footprints in the snow. It seemed to stretch on forever between the trunks: a pristine unbroken blanket, too perfect to have been laid by anything but the Spirits. The low light of the fire inside the shelter hit the tiny flakes; they sparkled like stars, and for a moment she was reminded of the sky above.

  The soft thuds of landing axe bows reached the Spirit’s ears. When it was clear they were alone, Lilja approached.

  Her pointed ears twitched, but she didn’t move to attack again. Lilja noticed and gave a grateful nod.

  “With all due respect, striking me would have done you no good, White Fox One,” she said.

  “It would not have hurt, either,” the Spirit glowered, not bothering to mask her anger.

  The corner of Lilja’s mouth turned up in a wry smile.

  “True. But you’re not the Spirit of Death. You’re of the ancestors, of light in the darkness. The Daughter of the Silver One. I understand your anger, but underneath all that, you couldn’t take a life. Not really.”

  She raised her chin. “Is that a challenge?”

  “An observation.”

  “I took a life-soul.”

  “Hardly the same. The boy you stole it from still lives, in some limited form,” Lilja pointed out.

  Her tail flicked from side to side irately, but then she lowered her eyes in agreement.

  “Why can you not put me back?” she asked, the sharp edge disappearing from her voice. “I must go back. Please.”

  Lilja offered a small smile. “I know. You don’t belong down here. But I wasn’t lying to you. I can’t do it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not the one who summoned you. His power is stronger than he realises. You know that as well as I do.”

  She scoffed. “He tried to put me back and had just as much luck as you.”

  “He was probably frightened,” said Lilja. “No mage can do their work if they are scared. Especially not a mage in training. And if your display just now is anything to go by, I’d imagine he was scared. You are not only revered down here; you are feared.”

  A flash of guilt coursed through her mind, but disappeared just as quickly. That was how it should be. Nobody should dare disrespect the Spirit who brought light in the middle of the longest night, who cared for the ancestors who chose to dance with her. Any of her displays firing through the sky were cause for admiration and gratitude.

  She deserved that. To be loved and feared were one and the same. Especially since she could so easily leave them all in darkness, forever wondering, staring up at the World Above and never seeing a thing.

  But then… how would she see? How could she look down on the World Between, to watch over…

  She cut off that thought before it could hurt her.

  “So, what would you suggest?” she asked coolly. “You have dealt with Spirit matters before, Lilja Bear-Soul; I have connected with you in the World Above s
everal times. Of all the mages I could be speaking with, you are the most fitting for this.”

  “I’m honoured,” Lilja said, the tiniest hint of sarcasm in her voice. “But that’s not entirely true, is it? There is one more fitting here. And to see the two of you together like this… that’s something else.”

  The Spirit’s eyes widened.

  “You know about him?”

  “Of course.” Lilja’s glanced in the direction of Tuomas’s footprints. “I take it he doesn’t know.”

  “I doubt it. I recognised his life-soul as soon as I saw him. But… he did not know me.”

  Lilja’s expression softened.

  “Time has passed, White Fox One. To be perfectly honest, I would have been shocked if he had recognised you.”

  She let out a sharp exhale. “Well, it matters not. I will return to the World Above and he will stay here.”

  She looked at her hands, turning them over and inspecting the sparkling flesh.

  “Maybe it is for the best that he does not remember. I just need him to help me.”

  “You’re lying to yourself,” Lilja said abruptly. “With all due respect.”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “Enough to know how hard it is to lose that one person you think will be with you forever.”

  “Forever?” she repeated scornfully. This woman was human – her concept of forever was mere seconds to a Spirit. And yet it did seem like forever since things had been different.

  She turned away. All these thoughts, walking here like this… it stung her, deeper than she had thought possible. She was a Spirit, older than any living thing upon the earth; infinite, at one with her entire being.

  So why did her chest feel as though it would cave in on itself?

  Lilja slid her shoulders inside the tent to place the hare back over the fire. As she held the flap aside, the Spirit caught a glimpse of the hearth. The flames were still going strong, and bundled in a dark corner under a blanket was a pile of birch logs.

  “You did not need more wood,” the Spirit said.

  “No, I just wanted to talk to you alone,” Lilja admitted softly. “It’s your decision, how you spend your time down here, but he’s going to find out eventually. And I wouldn’t assume it’s my place to tell him.”

  For some reason, that was more than she could bear.

  She didn’t wait for Lilja to withdraw herself from the shelter. She turned on her heel and ran into the trees, running on top of the snow.

  This was all too much: to be trapped down here in this strange body, to be walking on the same level as humans. The cold air bit at her skin and the wind dragged invisible fingers through her hair. They were strange sensations – every touch, no matter how light, was alarmingly close.

  It was unlike anything she had experienced. In the World Above, her home of no boundaries and no weight; there wasn’t any need for a body. Up there, she was free, wandering in her green rivers of light, always half-watching the faraway World Between. To be here, in this single specific form, cut off from all she had ever known…

  She slowed to a walk, inspecting her body as she wandered through the forest. By all accounts, it was perfect: humanlike, yet unmarred by the harsh life humans led down here. Her skin was smooth, her hair fine, merging seamlessly with the soft fur on her ears and tail.

  At least that was something he had gotten right. As formless and nameless as she was, the fox was as close as a mind could come to perceiving her.

  After a while, the trees thinned and she stepped out into another clearing. The temperature had dropped, and a cold ring appeared around the Moon Spirit. The snow glowed blue, forming a thin crust of frost – she felt it under her feet with every step. Even the air was frozen: tiny water droplets had crystalised and hung glittering all around her.

  The coldness didn’t bother her at all, but the frost was sharp, so she sank to her knees. As she nursed her toes, she allowed herself to look around, and couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of the icy land.

  The pines and birches stretched high, their boughs coated with the perfect amount of snow they could hold; every harsh angle softened beneath the sparkling powder. Anywhere devoid of snow was coated by a layer of ice, which shone even in the low light. Silence stretched all around – there were no signs of any animals. Even the wind ceased, until she was left in a perfect stillness which could have stretched away to the ends of the earth.

  Her face, usually so expressionless, formed a small smile.

  It was stunning; she couldn’t deny that. She hadn’t seen it like this before: first-hand, down within the forest. The view from the World Above was completely different. And despite the discomfort of her physical body, the harshness of the surroundings as they touched her skin and bombarded her senses… perhaps it was worth it, just to witness this land.

  She turned her eyes to the sky. The stars shone down upon her, and sadness ached within her chest. They were missing her; all the ancestors and the Spirits of winter. She was their leader – she felt them calling for her. No Lights could dance while she was trapped down here. There wasn’t even a Milky Way to lay its path through the sky. They were all alone, and so was she.

  Her gaze turned to the Moon Spirit. Her mother’s face was full, and cold eyes were on her.

  Then she heard the formless and wordless language which only Spirits and mages could speak.

  Foolish White Fox One. You are just as feared as I, and for what? To punish a stupid little boy? Look where it has gotten you!

  I will come home, she snarled back.

  How? said the Moon Spirit. Will you tell him the truth? And hurt yourself even more in the process?

  Oh, yes, Silver One, you would enjoy that, she snapped. You can speak nothing of truth. If you had not been dissatisfied with your own truth in the beginning, he wouldn’t even be here right now. He would still be with his own mother. Not here. Not like this.

  Strong words from one who cannot even ignore an insult, the Moon responded coldly. You always held yourself so mightily. I am the symbol of the Long Dark, which brings blizzards and lean hunts… and yet they fear offending you more than me. For as terrible as I am, I have never taken a life-soul. I have never been bound to their realm. Look at where your pride has left you!

  The words struck her. She turned away, shaking with fury and guilt. No, she was the majestic aurora, the Spirit of the Lights! She was powerful and beautiful, no matter where she was or how she appeared!

  I will come home, she repeated again, with or without his help.

  Her pupils shrank into a haze of flashing green and blue. The colours filled her from head to toe. Unable to stay still any longer, she took off at a sprint, her ears flat against her scalp.

  As she ran, her tail swept at her heels, bringing up bursts of snow. They hung in the air, forming a trail behind her, waving into a tiny aurora.

  Tuomas made his way back towards the tent, his arms piled high with freshly-cut wood. Lilja’s axe hung at his belt, tied there with a strip of leather.

  He followed his footprints through the trees until they became sparse, and the shelter appeared, highlighted orange from the fire inside. The reindeer were lying close to each other, still tethered to the tree. Their ears swivelled towards him inquisitively as he passed, but upon sensing he had no food, they returned to their rest.

  Tuomas paused by the sleighs. The Spirit was nowhere to be seen, and he doubted she would have gone into the tent. Somehow, he suspected she would want to stay away from anything warm. She was, after all, a thing of winter.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Lilja called from inside the shelter. “She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

  Tuomas hooked his foot under the flap and held it wide enough to throw the logs inside. He crawled in after them and shoved them towards the skin wall, then settled opposite Lilja.

  While he’d been gone, she had retrieved his sleeping sack from his sleigh and laid it out. The gesture took him by surprise – it
was a courtesy given by a host to welcome someone into their shelter. No matter that she had no people; she had still done it.

  He offered her a grateful smile, but she was too preoccupied in piling some of the wood on the fire. She arranged it in a cross-hatch manner, to burn steadily through the night. Then she handed him half of the hare, now fully cooked.

  His mouth watered. He thanked the Spirits before taking a large bite out of the rump. Lilja did the same, muttering courtesies under her breath. They ate in silence, pulling off every scrap of meat, then withdrew their smallest knives and split the largest bones lengthwise to pull out the juicy marrow within.

  “Where did she go?” Tuomas asked eventually.

  “Into the forest,” said Lilja. “Are you worried about her?”

  “I’m responsible for her.”

  “No, you’re not. She’s a Spirit. She can take care of herself.”

  Tuomas grimaced, remembering how she took care of Mihka.

  “Well, I owe her. I need to appease her,” he said.

  “That’s not the same as being responsible for her,” Lilja remarked. “And I’m sure constantly having her in your sight won’t factor into her appeasement. Relax, boy.”

  Tuomas peeled a strip of marrow from the hare’s thighbone and lifted it to his mouth.

  “How can I relax? Time isn’t on my side. I need to help my friend. What if he dies?”

  Lilja shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. It won’t kill him.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Mages have been without their life-souls for weeks at a time, communing with the Spirits, and suffered no ill effects. So long as your friend is fed and watered, as best he can be, he’ll be fine.”

  She spoke flippantly, as though this kind of subject was normal conversation to her. Perhaps it was – based on the level of conversations she seemed to have, there was clearly no mention of small talk or jokes.

  But it unnerved Tuomas. Henrik had mentioned that she and her brother – wherever he was – were too powerful. Was that why they wandered, rootless, without anybody but themselves? Why she was so strange? What hold did she truly have over the Spirits… or them over her?