by E. C. Hibbs
He went to ask her about it, but Lilja cleared her throat and the contact was broken. Lumi walked away, her ears slanting back at the sound. Tuomas turned his attention back to Lilja.
He noticed Elin and Sigurd watching from the side, and his stomach flipped. He’d never drummed in front of anyone before.
But there was no going back now. If he wanted to be a mage, and do this in front of an entire village, he had to start somewhere.
He closed his eyes and prayed to any Spirit who might hear him.
Please don’t let me mess this up again.
The fire was going strong now, and Lilja held her drum over it, motioning with a flick of her chin for him to do the same. He carefully clutched the instrument by the back beam and let it hover atop the flames. The heat radiated through into his fingers, and made the symbols dance in the warm light.
He withdrew the drum, resting it in his lap. Lilja cast the protective circle, and gave him a single nod.
Tuomas nodded back. He was as ready as he would ever be.
They began a rhythm, with Lilja leading, letting the beats echo out into the darkness. Tuomas immediately felt his souls loosening. His head swam and instinct took over. A strange warmth grew in the pit of his stomach, and then Lilja began to chant. It was both guttural and soaring, ululating and harmonious, with hardly pause for breath.
Caught up in her sweeping sound, Tuomas opened his mouth, letting his own chant spill out like a river. There were no words, but there didn’t need to be. He knew exactly what he wanted, and the song became that thing: to open the gateway, to cross into the World Below. Distantly, as though hearing it from the other side of the horizon, Lilja’s chant spoke of the same goal. Their drumbeats and voices intertwined, dancing into the sky with the smoke. The air pulsed with taika.
He didn’t care anymore that he had an audience. Elin and Sigurd could have been a million miles away. All that mattered were the drums and the shifting power all around. It felt like the Sun Spirit at midsummer; sounded like a little child playing gleefully at a lakeside; tasted of ripe berries and air so fresh it stung the lungs.
Then there was a sound like a rushing stream, and Tuomas opened his eyes.
The hole was glowing – not from under the water, but even deeper. Lilja stared at him, urging him to continue, not breaking her chant for a moment.
Tuomas carried on, holding onto the taika as he brought the hammer down again and again. The light grew, filling the hole. It bounced off the ice and reflecting off in a million rays.
It reached the surface, and a herd of ghostly white reindeer spilled out. They galloped across the lake in all directions, without a sound or hoofprint in their wake. Elin and Sigurd fell back in alarm, the animals running straight through them and vanishing into the distance.
Lilja stopped drumming, and Tuomas hurriedly put his instrument down too. The reindeer bounded past him. He could almost feel their soft fur, hear their bells and the clicking of the tendons in their legs.
He stared after them, mouth agape, but then Lilja’s hand appeared on his shoulder.
“We need to cross over now, before it closes,” she said.
Tuomas looked at the hole. The last of the spectral reindeer were still pouring out, but the glow had already started to fade.
Lumi leapt in without hesitation. She instantly disappeared, and Lilja followed, her drum tucked under one arm.
Tuomas turned a glance towards Sigurd and Elin.
“Will you be alright?” he called.
“We’ll be fine!” replied Sigurd. “Go on, hurry!”
Tuomas turned to Elin. “I’ll see you soon.”
She managed to return a smile, but he didn’t see it. Clutching the drum to his chest, he screwed his eyes closed, and dropped into the hole.
He half-expected to hit the water, but its icy shock never came. He just fell, the light burning through his eyelids. He didn’t dare open them, worried that it would blind him.
Suddenly, the air transformed into something sweet and light. The coldness vanished and he felt heat on his face. When he breathed in, he smelled pollen and moist earth.
He crashed onto something hard. The thing rocked with his weight and he almost lost grip on the drum.
Then he heard Lilja’s voice beside him.
“It’s alright. We’re here.”
Tuomas slowly opened his eyes, squinting in the light. It was coming from above him, in a brilliant blue sky. But he knew it wasn’t the true sky, where Lumi’s Lights danced or the Moon Spirit turned her pockmarked face. This was the World Below: an entire other realm lay between here and the World Above. Instead, the light was coming from where the hole had been, now glowing so brightly, it almost looked like the Sun Spirit.
He sat up, nursing his shoulder. The thing they had landed on was a wooden boat, sitting in the middle of an identical circular lake as the one they had just stood on. However, instead of being frozen, it was thawed and clear, the water rippling in a soft breeze. Distant banks were edged with green shrubs and the crowns of silver birch trees, their colours so saturated, it almost hurt to look at them.
“It’s summer,” Tuomas blurted in wonder.
Then he remembered what Elin had said back in Einfjall: this place was the opposite of the World Between. At the height of winter up there, it would be summer down here.
He wriggled out of his coat and mittens. Sweat was already beginning to run down his back. The change in temperatures made his head spin and he took a few deep breaths. Lilja seemed to be struggling too: she stripped down to her tunic and fanned herself with her hands.
But Lumi looked the worst of all. She sat at the prow of the boat, knees drawn up to her chest. The wet sheen on her skin was more pronounced than ever now. She squirmed in discomfort, ears flat, bending her head down in an attempt to shade her face.
Tuomas’s heart jolted. If she had struggled in the faraway winter light, and kept clear of any fires, this place would be draining for her. No matter that it was a Spirit realm; there was no hiding the pain she was in.
He noticed some oars in the bottom of the boat. He and Lilja took one each and they began to row, aiming for the nearest bank. Before long, they approached the blissful shade of a willow tree, its long branches trailing in the water.
A figure stepped out from behind the trunk. Tuomas was so taken aback, he almost dropped the oar.
He could immediately tell it was one of the Earth Spirits. Like Lumi, she took the form of a human woman; her movements so light, she appeared to be floating above the ground. She also had the same features as Lumi: petite yet sharp in places, with large striking eyes that pierced all they looked upon.
But that was where all similarities ended, for the Spirit was made entirely from leaves and petals. Tuomas wasn’t sure if she was even solid, or whether behind the flora was nothing but empty air. Blades of grass fell about her face like hair, dotted with sprigs of fragrant heather. Birch leaves, both green and silver, lay over each other in the form of a face. She was dressed in a rich tunic of yellow saxifrage, embroidered with what looked like starlight and patches of white reindeer fur.
Lumi jumped out of the boat and landed hard on the ground. She hurried under the shade of the willow; arms thrown up around her face. Her hair turned damp and stuck to her snowy skin.
Without a word, the Earth Spirit touched her on the forehead.
There was a small flash, and Lumi let out a gasp of relief. The wetness vanished from her flesh, and her eyes momentarily flashed pink before melting back to their usual iridescent green.
“What was that?” Tuoms asked under his breath.
“Our friend has graciously protected her from the heat of this World,” Lilja said.
The two of them climbed out of the boat and Lilja lowered her head in respect. When Tuomas stayed still, she slapped him on the arm. He muttered an apology and followed suit.
“Lilja Bear-Mage and Tuomas Sun-Soul,” said the Earth Spirit. “Welcome to the World Below.�
�
Tuomas frowned. Sun-Soul? He had never been called that before.
“Earth One,” Lilja replied. “Thank you for allowing us entry to your realm.”
The Spirit smiled. The leaves on her cheeks rustled with the movement.
“Come with me. You may shelter in a place less exposed.”
The Earth Spirit headed away from the lake. Her steps hardly disturbed the grass underfoot. With every movement, Tuomas caught the scent of flowers.
He dragged the boat onto the shore so it wouldn’t float away, then picked up the two drums, handing one to Lilja.
She took it, but grasped his wrist with her other hand.
“Don’t wander off,” she said.
“I won’t,” Tuomas replied. “The demon can’t follow us down here, can it?”
There was a dark warning to Lilja’s expression.
“Our host is generous, boy, but there is danger here too.”
Tuomas nodded to show he understood. He would ask her later, when they were alone.
He let Lilja go first and fell behind to walk with Lumi. She glanced at him as he came close, but didn’t move away.
The glow behind her eyes was dimmer than normal. Another drop of water ran down from her hairline.
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
Lumi shook her head. “This is the furthest I have ever been from the sky.”
Tuomas gave her a small smile of comfort. He wanted to say something – anything – about how he appreciated her patience, how sorry he was, how grateful he’d been when she defended him from the demon. He wanted to tell her that, despite the circumstances, he didn’t hate her; even his fear of her was slowly transforming into genuine respect.
But when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. Words would simply dilute the meaning behind whatever tangle of emotions he wanted to voice.
Lumi looked straight ahead, her mouth set in a line, ears erect. Sensing she wasn’t gong to say anything else, Tuomas turned his attention to the surroundings.
It didn’t take long for him to be captivated. The bushes and heathers around the lake had given way to clusters of birch, pine and aspen. Their branches disappeared into a dense green canopy; the trunks were carved with spirals and circles, similar to what might have been painted on a drum. The bright sky shone through from above, transforming the leaves and needles into a mosaic of light which danced on the spongy ground.
Here and there, more of the white reindeer grazed, their heads crowned with the most impressive antlers Tuomas had ever seen. The animals were still a little transparent, but more solid than they had been above in the snow. They were all grazing on bountiful amounts of lichen, yet paused to lower their heads in respect as the group passed by. Tuomas supposed it must be because they sensed the Earth Spirit and Lumi.
He was reminded of the story of the first reindeer. After the Great Mage had died, the reindeer he had been gifted from this place multiplied and populated the Northlands with their descendants. But time in the World Between made them heavier, and the Sun Spirit tanned their thick coats from snow white to a mirage of brown.
There was more to this place than just what he could see. He almost had to pinch himself as a reminder that it wasn’t a dream. This was the World Below: a place of magic and power, which could usually only be reached by a mage’s life-soul in trance.
But yet here he was, physically walking in another realm. It was unheard of.
He looked at Lilja, her two pigtails trailing down her back. Once again, he remembered how she had been touched by the Great Bear. The strength of her taika was truly unbelievable, to be able to open a gateway like this. No wonder Henrik had been wary of her.
But he knew Lilja now, knew that there was nothing at all to worry about. Henrik was probably just jealous; unnerved by her abrupt manner or the rootless way she lived. And there had never been a female mage in Akerfjorden. She would have been easy for him to victimise.
Women mages were not unheard of – Aino in Einfjall was a perfect example. But Henrik was old and set in his ways. And if the reputation of the Great Bear Spirit had somehow preceded Lilja, there was a perfect opportunity for prejudice.
I’ll soon fix that, Tuomas decided.
When Lumi was back in the sky and Mihka’s life-soul returned, he would convince Lilja to come back with him. She could move in with him and Paavo if she wanted, and the three of them could sit around the fire with a bowl of Paavo’s stew.
It was the least he could do to repay her for all she had done. And then, perhaps, she could finally have a home again.
Chapter Sixteen
The trees became denser and Tuomas spotted two fires in the distance. They were torches, set into a sheer rock wall, either side of a large cave. From a distance, it looked like a gaping maw flanked by burning eyes.
A wave of unease washed through him. The cave made him think of a giant monster lying in wait to swallow them.
Lilja’s had mentioned there was danger down here, and she was right: this place was where trolls were supposed to have come from. The old stories said they lay in the ground, away from the Sun Spirit’s reach, sleeping away the centuries until hunger called them to rise. Then they would force their way into the World Between, taking reindeer and people alike.
But this wasn’t a troll. It was just a cave. Nothing in there could harm them.
As soon as they walked inside, the air became cooler and damper. More torches lined the walls, throwing strange flickering shadows everywhere. They travelled deeper, the earth pressing in around them, along a path which twisted and wound in all directions like the root of a huge tree. Then they turned a corner and emerged into a wide cavern.
An array of fires cast a warm and welcoming light all around. Other tunnels and caverns were visible, honeycombing through the rock. Stalactites protruded from the dark ceiling like teeth, dripping water down into clear pools which had collected beneath them across centuries. Some of the pools had even broken free and trailed away in tiny streams.
But it was the walls that took Tuomas’s breath away.
All of them were beautifully decorated with paintings and carvings, in colours he had never seen in pigment before. From floor to ceiling, they showcased Spirits, landmarks and stories. There were the Sun and Moon Spirits side by side, their celestial children hovering beneath them; the Great Mage walking across the Mustafjord; herders driving the reindeer through the mountains; the Spirit of Passage guiding the recently deceased away from their graves. And on the wall straight ahead, the Great Bear Spirit filled the entire space, its form outlined in a million white dots.
His head swam with the details. It was far too much to take in at once. He could have stood and looked at the artworks all day.
But the Earth Spirit didn’t stop and led them to the largest fire in the centre of the cavern. Hearth stones had been arranged around it, each covered with bowls of food. There was sautéed reindeer, salmon cakes, mashed lingonberries, dishes of cloudberries and roots, and spits of roasted ptarmigan.
“You are welcome to help yourselves,” said the Spirit. “I must converse with my kin, and find the best way forward with your predicament.”
“You have not asked them what the predicament is,” Lumi noted.
The Earth Spirit glanced at her with a smile. “I heard it in the chanting, White Fox One. You must be returned to the World Above. We can assist you with this, but it is best to discuss. To not be impulsive.”
Lumi’s eyes narrowed at that last remark, but she didn’t say anything.
Lilja bowed her head.
“We thank you for your generosity, Earth One,” she said, then she approached the Spirit and whispered something. Tuomas couldn’t make out what they were saying.
He walked over to Lumi. She was standing close to the wall, as far away from the fires as she could get. For the first time, she didn’t glare at him or try to avoid him as he came close.
“I do not feel sure about this,” she muttered. �
�There is some kind of corruption in the air.”
Now she mentioned it, Tuomas noticed it too. Despite the wondrous sights, the air didn’t seem right. And it wasn’t just because they were in a cave – he had explored caves in the World Above and they didn’t feel like this. Not heavy, like it was pressing on his lungs. When he breathed in, there was a metallic taste in his mouth.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. “You’re not too hot?”
“No.”
“I wanted to ask, I thought you didn’t want people to see you. Why did you come so close to Einfjall?”
“Because I could not stop the demon before it reached you,” she said. “I tried to pull the life-soul out of it, but it got away. I had no choice but to follow.”
Tuomas gathered his nerves.
“Yes, you did.”
Her eyes locked onto him.
“You didn’t have to defend me like that,” he carried on.
“You sound surprised,” she said.
“I am,” he admitted. “Is it just because I need to send you back to the World Above?”
Lumi didn’t blink.
“You mean, just because you need to appease me.”
Her tone was like ice. Tuomas worried he had gone too far and lowered his head.
“I’m sorry. I honestly never meant to pull you out of the sky.”
“And yet you did.”
Lumi looked past him to the wall behind. Tuomas followed her gaze. On the red rock, a painting depicted the Sun and the Moon, the faint details of faces visible in their gold and silver discs. Underneath them ran two foxes, outlined in white and red.
“You are more powerful than you know,” she said.
“You and Lilja like saying that,” Tuomas muttered.
“Because it is true.”
“How? I couldn’t stop that demon. I brought it to Einfjall. And I trapped you. I’m not powerful, I’m just stupid.”
Lumi raised her eyebrows a little, as though she agreed. But then she shook her head.
“All that shows your power. You must simply learn to control it.”
Tuomas swallowed. Henrik had said the same thing.
