by E. C. Hibbs
“I don’t know,” Tuomas admitted. “But I promise, nobody’s going to have to do it again, because we’ll figure out a way to fix it. We just need to get to the coast. It will be safer when we’re all together. Then I’ll sit down with all the mages and we’ll…”
He let his words trail off. What would they do? How could they hope to progress when Lilja had forbidden him from speaking about Aki?
Elin yawned. Tuomas took her hand and tucked it into her sack.
“Go back to sleep,” he said.
“I’m not sleepy,” she protested.
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not…”
Her eyelids fluttered closed. Tuomas watched as her breathing slowed, and soon she was silent save for the rattling in her lungs. She curled herself close to the embers, in a way that horribly reminded him of Paavo.
He glanced around the shelter. Despite the cramped and smelly environment, nobody else had stirred. Stellan was in the corner; Ritva and Frode had Eevi between them, sandwiching her with their bodies to keep her warm. Enska was opposite, one arm draped over Lilja’s back.
Tuomas knew he needed to sleep too. As soon as the storm was over, they would be carrying on. So he laid down, grabbed his hat to use as a pillow, and forced himself not to think about Kari.
A sudden crunch sounded behind him.
He listened hard. The crunch came again, cutting through the howling wind. Tuomas frowned and raised himself up on one elbow to hear better. It almost sounded like feet.
He shrugged it off. It was probably just a reindeer wandering about. Then an awful thought crossed his mind. What if it was a wolf?
Don’t be stupid, he told himself. Greylegs won’t come out in weather like this.
He closed his eyes and extended one hand towards the fire to feel its warmth. His fingers landed so close to it; the embers almost touched the ends.
Red Fox One…
He sat bolt upright. The voice had been inside his head, just like how it was in the World Above.
He threw a glance at Lilja to see if she had heard it too, but she didn’t move a muscle.
Then it came again: the same crunch, closer this time.
To his relief, it wasn’t the Moon Spirit; he could tell that much. But it wasn’t Lumi either, or the Sun Spirit. It felt deeper than any of them.
Glad he hadn’t bothered to take off his shoes, Tuomas pulled on his coat and bound it with his belt. Then he crept to the door, rested one hand against it, and unsheathed his longest knife with the other. He didn’t care that instinct told him there would be no wolves; he wasn’t taking any chances.
He took a deep breath, then shoved the door open and stumbled out into the night. He shut it quickly so the cold couldn’t wake the others.
The blizzard had lessened a little, but it was still nowhere near safe enough to travel through. Snow had banked up against the walls of the huts. Most of them weren’t even visible from where he stood.
He would have to be careful. If he lost sight of where he had come from, there was no way he’d find his way back. He considered returning and waking someone, but then he spotted movement close by, followed by more crunching.
He held his knife out warily. On the chance it was a wolf, it would be able to smell him; it could pounce at any moment.
The silhouette grew larger in the swirling whiteness, morphing into a giant shapeless bulk. Then it came straight at him and swam into view.
Tuomas yelped and fell onto his backside.
It was a bear.
Its fur rippled like grass in the wind and its nose twitched as it padded closer on four huge paws. Tuomas caught a glimpse of the claws, longer than his eating knife, and his stomach flipped in terror. A single swipe and he would be dead before he hit the ground.
What was this thing doing here? Bears were supposed to be hibernating until spring was well underway. Had it attacked the reindeer? Had it broken into the other huts? They never would have heard the screaming in this weather.
The bear halted barely three feet away and looked straight at him with its small black eyes. It was pure white, as though it was made from snow. He could feel its hot breath on his face.
He didn’t dare blink, and the bear didn’t move.
He remembered how close he was to the hut. He opened his mouth to call for Lilja. There might be a chance she’d hear him, or Enska or Frode. Anybody…
The eyes suddenly began to twist and swirl, and he saw the stars reflected in them. He frowned – there were no stars out tonight.
Then the voice came again, echoing in his head.
I summon you tonight, Son of the Sun. I summon you only.
The voice was soft; not quite a woman’s or a man’s, shifting and formless. Every word rang with incredible power.
Tuomas’s mouth fell open. He raised his hand, the knife falling from his grasp, and reached towards the bear’s muzzle.
His fingers brushed fur which stuck to his skin and came away like snowflakes… and then he was falling yet rising, spinning around himself. He felt the summer warmth and caught the fleeting taste of lingonberry as his taika engulphed him. His life-soul flew upwards; there was a distant thud as his body collapsed onto the ground.
The bear grew, each hair splitting into a thousand stars, until a gigantic being stood with him, not quite in focus – in the strange purgatory, he wasn’t sure if it was because he was too close or too far away. There was no light, yet it glittered and shone.
Then, around it, a river of green and blue fluttered through the darkness. It pulled with it the voices of a million souls; and at its head, Lumi floated as effortlessly as a feather on the wind.
Tuomas gasped with happiness.
Lumi! he cried. You’re alright!
Of course I am, she replied. Her white tail swept the sky and she drew closer so he could feel her: a cool and piercing presence, edged with whirling snowflakes and freezing fire.
Did the Moon Spirit hurt you? he asked. I saw you in the sky, but you looked faint…
I was weakened, but not harmed, she said. She is stronger than me, after all.
Thank you for defending me. I didn’t think she’d let me go.
You defended yourself as much as I did. But that is not why we are here, Tuomas.
With that, she moved back so the Great Bear Spirit was in full view. Tuomas bowed low in respect. He sensed the power radiating off it: beyond comprehension, as though the vibration of everything which had ever existed was condensed into a single form.
Tuomas Sun-Soul, it said.
Tuomas didn’t move for a long time. There was a gravity to the Bear’s tone which he hadn’t heard when he had previously connected with it. It pressed on his heart and made him gasp for breath.
What do you want with me? he asked, as respectfully as he could.
Much, replied the Bear.
It swam around him, small and huge, ever moving. The stars and vapours which formed its shape sparkled in a thousand different ways. Tuomas felt like a tiny ant beside it; as miniscule as a leaf in the middle of a vast forest. If he had been standing, he would have been driven to his knees. All of life and reality seemed to be looking at him through those unblinking black eyes.
Firstly, the Bear continued, I know you have seen the stars falling. Do you know why?
No, Tuomas answered. You know I don’t.
A paw swirled through his mind and drew out the memory of when he had pulled away from Lumi. He could feel her grip on his wrists as though it were only yesterday. Then he felt himself bring his magic forward, push it against her until she was forced to let go; and as he tumbled towards the Mustafjord, something ripped open.
Do you see? said the Bear. Balance must always exist between the World Above and the World Below, to keep the Word Between balanced in turn. It gives stability to life and death, to light and darkness, and to all the Spirits who dwell Above and Below. But now, it is compromised. When you unleashed your taika on your sister – equal powers
used against each other in a way they should not have been – you tore the boundary. Now the skin which separates the World Between and World Above is frayed. A hole lies open like a wound.
Tuomas hung still in the air, struck dumb with shock. He looked at Lumi and the graveness surrounding her was all the confirmation he needed. It welled like a sadness within her: a perfect snowflake on the verge of thawing into rain.
It is as much my fault as yours, she said. I held on, even though I knew you would pull harder. I was only trying to protect you.
From the draugars, Tuomas nodded. I know they want me. I should have listened to you.
Yes, you should, Lumi agreed with a hint of anger, but now the damage is done.
Is it bad?
No, but enough to weaken the boundary.
That’s why the mages can’t speak to the Spirits. They’re cut off from the World Above, Tuomas realised.
Yes, said Lumi. The only one still able to enter here is you.
Because I’m a Spirit, he finished. He turned to the Great Bear in panic. Can’t you repair it?
The Bear fixed him with its penetrating stare. Each hair on its ethereal body sparkled with colours he had never even seen.
I maintain the balance, nothing more. The Worlds are not on a collision course yet, but they will be if you abuse them again. If you, or any being with power, cross physically between the Above and Between again, the tear will rupture further. Terribly.
I understand, Tuomas said in a small voice. Can I fix it?
While it is your responsibility, a more pressing one draws me to you tonight. I have summoned you, and for you to understand, I must remind you of your past. Are you prepared to take this knowledge, Son of the Sun?
Tuomas hesitated. The severity in the Bear’s words was so strong, he wanted nothing more than to escape this encounter, wake up once again in the hut and have Elin convince him it was only a dream.
You wouldn’t have come to me if this wasn’t important, would you? he said quietly.
The Bear didn’t answer. There was no need to.
Tuomas threw a glance at Lumi. She looked back steadily, and gave him the tiniest of nods.
I trust you both, and I will listen, he said. Tell me.
I will not tell you, the Bear said. I will show you.
In a heartbeat, Tuomas suddenly found himself alone in the middle of the tundra. There wasn’t a single landmark in sight, and the Spirits had disappeared. The horizon and sky blended together seamlessly, both as white as the other, without even a line of footprints to break the monotony. The only difference was beneath him: he was standing in the middle of a frozen lake.
Despite the lack of detail, he vaguely recognised it. It was the Northern Edge of the World. He had sat here with Lilja, while Elin and Sigurd had watched, not too long ago…
No, it was earlier than that. He sensed that it was long before the mist had arrived; before anyone he knew was even born, or their parents.
He inspected himself. He was younger than he was now – no more than ten. A drum swung at his belt, but it wasn’t his current one. It was larger, with different symbols; some of them had been painted so small, he couldn’t make out what they were. Either side of the Bear’s head in the centre were two foxes, one beneath the Sun Spirit and the other beneath the Moon Spirit.
But the greatest change of all was on his head: two furry ears protruded from his hair and rose into a sharp point, just like Lumi in her human form. He looked behind him and noticed a tail sweeping under his coat. However, it wasn’t white. It was red.
He untied his drum and took the antler hammer in his hand. The spectral body seemed to move on its own; he had no control.
He struck up a beat and raised his voice in a chant. The power in it shook him – it was his own taika, with the feeling of the Sun Spirit in summer and the sweet scent of flowers – and yet more concentrated than he had ever experienced. He drove it into the lake, so deep, he almost lost his grip on it. It split the dark, broke through the skin between the Worlds, and a jet of light shot out of the ice.
The force was so strong, it blew him onto his back. But when he looked at it, a hole had opened where he had stood, and a herd of ghostly white reindeer were spilling from it, running in all directions until the empty landscape swallowed them.
One of the Earth Spirits rose out of the ice. Its body was woven from lichen and flowering heather, plump lingonberries cascaded down its front.
What have you done, Red Fox One? it whispered.
Tuomas blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the surroundings had changed. Now he was on the frozen Mustafjord. And he was no longer a child, but a fully-grown man: his body felt heavier, more muscular, and he was as tall as Paavo. He wore a coat of white reindeer fur: the sign of a mage. It was paler and purer than any mage pelt he had ever seen, as though the fur was made from miniature icicles.
On the bank a mile away, there was no sign of Akerfjorden. All he saw were thick trees extending down to the water, their canopies rendered completely white by heavy snow. Akerfjorden didn’t exist yet, but behind him, a crowd of people walked, spluttering children in their parents’ arms. He had led them out of the north, looking for a new place to call home, somewhere the Moon Spirit’s gaze wouldn’t be as strong upon him.
And now they were almost there. So close…
Mist suddenly spilled across the surface and the ice cracked underneath him. Something snatched at his ankles.
He barely had time to scream before the freezing water closed over his head. The crowd screamed and ran forward to help, but it was too late. The hole at the surface shrunk as he was pulled down. All around, draugars grabbed at his clothes and skin. They tore his coat off with their slimy hands and scratched his chest so deeply, he felt claws against his breastbone.
Taika! So much taika! they hissed, teeth flashing in the gloom. Give it to us, Son of the Sun! Give it! Be ours!
The fjord filled his lungs. He tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them, and they were too strong. Blood turned the green water red. He was drowning…
The aurora pulsed over the ice, then shot through the crack after him. The Lights swarmed in all directions and beat the draugars away. A spectral fox face hovered before him in the water.
It is too late, he said, in the language of the Spirits which he had never forgotten. I am a dead man. You cannot save me, sister.
I cannot save your life, came the reply, but I will save your soul. I would save you a thousand times.
One of the Lights plunged into his chest. The draugars screeched in anger, but the white fox bolted back to the surface, a single glowing life-soul streaming in her wake. It was brighter than any other, like a droplet of pure Sunlight. And the Great Mage hung dead in the water, slowly sinking into the black abyss, the Spirit of Passage following him to collect the body-soul which was left.
Tuomas blinked again.
It was over. He was hanging in the trance, himself again, Lumi and the Great Bear Spirit spinning their glow around him. Even though he wasn’t in his body and couldn’t cry, a sob flowed through his mind like the echo in a giant cave. No number of fireside stories could measure up to what he had just witnessed.
Lumi watched him warily and flowed closer so she could touch him. For the briefest of moments, she transformed into the snowy girl who had travelled with him across the tundra.
Are you alright? she asked.
I think so, Tuomas breathed.
So now you understand, said the Great Bear Spirit. When you first leapt from the World Above and were reborn in a human body, you sought refuge in the World Below. To reach a place as far from the Moon Spirit as possible, you opened a gateway: the only place where there can be physical passage between the Worlds.
The Northern Edge of the World, Tuomas said.
Yes, the Bear confirmed. The Earth Spirits gifted you, as the Great Mage, a herd of magical white reindeer. They helped you to survive; you brought them with you when you went
among the people. Then you headed south to Akerfjorden in an attempt to find solace further from the Silver One’s reach. But you never made it.
So I saved you – pulled out your life-soul as you drowned, said Lumi. Your people’s legends about me were correct in that sense.
The fright pressed in around Tuomas. He couldn’t shake the sensation of the Mustafjord choking him; the hands pulling at him, trying to reach his heart.
There were draugars there, he said, his voice trembling. He didn’t – I didn’t – just fall through the ice, like in the stories. They pulled me under. How were they there?
The Bear drew closer, trailing stardust in its wake.
The waters of the Worlds are the womb of life. When you opened that gateway to the World Below, you also allowed the waters to seep into the gaps between where the Worlds meet. The draugars came forward for the first time out of that darkness.
Tuomas was so horrified, he thought he might fall out of the sky. Lumi noticed and quickly wrapped him in her Lights to keep him anchored.
I unleashed the draugars? he breathed.
Your actions did. It is part of the web which you inadvertently spun, said the Bear gently. There is no fault that I place upon you, Son of the Sun, but you must understand the situation. Draugars by themselves are powerless. To spread the illness which claims young lives, to let their poisonous mist emerge from the waters, they require a channel: a living being of strong taika.
Like Aki, said Tuomas. Lumi, he was who we heard, when he pulled the souls away from you, wasn’t he? You said it was something you hoped you’d never see again.
And yet I always do, she said darkly. But that boy they have now is merely the latest.
What do you mean?
For every generation that they return, they require another mage, the Bear explained. They will drain the power from them; trap them beyond time so they cannot age nor die. There were other mages who fell prey to them before Lilja’s son – so many, should you line them up shoulder to shoulder, they would reach beyond the horizon. The draugars use them as a lure for as long as they can, and then will search for another, forever hungry for the strongest taika.
