The Mist Children

by E. C. Hibbs

  “No. You’ll have to figure that out,” she replied. “Remember, the Red Fox One came out of the World Above and into a human body generations ago. Whatever he’s in charge of, nobody’s seen it. And if they have, it’s been forgotten.”

  Tuomas bit back a stab of disappointment. Ever since Elin had raised the question, he’d hoped that Lilja might be able to answer it. He absently touched his head and imagined the pointy fox ears which had sat there in his vision.

  They carried on in silence for a while. His drum banged against his hip with every step. Tuomas laid a hand on it in comfort. It suddenly reminded him of what Henrik had said about his lessons.

  He spoke up before he could convince himself it was a bad idea.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She gave him a wary look. “What?”

  “I was speaking with Henrik, before we started on the migration. I asked if I could be his apprentice again, so I could learn how to control my taika better. But he said I should actually talk to you about it.”

  Lilja was so stunned, she stopped walking. Tuomas paused too and dug his feet into the snow at an angle so he wouldn’t slide backwards.

  “You want me to teach you?” she repeated in amazement.

  Tuomas watched her face, not sure if she was insulted or not.

  “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind.”

  “And Henrik told you to ask me? I thought he didn’t like me.”

  “He doesn’t, really,” Tuomas admitted begrudgingly. “But I stood up for you. And I think he’s right. He told me that I need help enhancing my taika and learning to keep it under control. You’re one of the most powerful mages in the Northlands. You’d be better at it than him.”

  He jerked his head to encourage her to start walking again. Realising that nearby people were beginning to look at them, Lilja quickly complied.

  “That’s praise, I must say,” she muttered, still taken aback. “I’m not sure how great a teacher I’ll make, but… feeling your taika, I don’t think you really need to be taught much.”

  “That’s what Henrik said.”

  “Well, he’s right.”

  “So, what do you think?” Tuomas asked. “Forget teacher. How about as a mentor? As a friend?”

  Lilja didn’t answer straightaway. Her eyes roved over the snow, as though searching the churn of hoofprints for what to say.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever really had a friend before,” she said, more to herself than him. But ultimately her shoulders slumped, and she gave a conceding nod. “Alright. I suppose I can try.”

  Tuomas smiled at her in thanks. Then the two of them quietened and continued up the slope.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As the day wore on, the route became steeper than ever as it twisted and wound around smaller peaks. Tuomas had to kick his shoes into the snow to get purchase. The reindeer, usually fanning out, narrowed their formation until they were only walking five abreast. The sleighs slotted in with them as best they could. Soon, all conversations ceased, and the only sound drifting through the air was the occasional cough. Even the snow dulled the reindeers’ hooves until silence reigned.

  When Tuomas looked over his shoulder, he saw they had left the tundra far behind. It extended below, stretching on for miles. The huts where they had sheltered were mere specks against the vast whiteness. Anything further than that was obscured by the horizon, melting in so perfectly to the sky, he couldn’t quite say where one ended and the other began.

  The air grew thinner. The wind howled eerily through the mountains. It blew into his face and he struggled to breathe. He pulled his scarf over his mouth to make it easier, but it offered little relief.

  After climbing another mile away from the ground, the route slowly levelled out as they emerged into the pass. It cleaved its way through the rocks in a giant sweeping path. The blizzard had hit up here too. Enormous rocks lay hidden beneath fresh snow, but a layer of ice had formed over the top of it, making it slightly easier to walk on.

  Tuomas was glad for that. This place was treacherous. The less time they spent in here, the better. Even the reindeer seemed to sense it: they could have moved out again, but they stayed together.

  The sides of the pass loomed above like a gaping maw. Huge slabs of snow hung precariously over their ridges. Tuomas eyed them nervously.

  There were tales of the things which lived up here. Stories were often told around the fires: of beings which didn’t take kindly to trespassers, who would send bad weather and avalanches down on those who refused to acknowledge them. Even the largest boulders, eroded into strange shapes, were said to be trolls: evil man-eating giants who hadn’t escaped the Sun Spirit’s rays in time, and now stood petrified in stone. Indeed, every single spring and autumn, Tuomas could remember the migration leaving an offering after travelling through, to keep the entities appeased. So far, it seemed to have worked.

  A wave of coughing broke out. He recognised it as coming from Eevi.

  Stellan approached the sleigh carrying her. Tuomas watched anxiously and leaned over to whisper to Lilja.

  “Is she alright?”

  She narrowed her eyes, trying to see.

  “I don’t know. But I don’t want to go over there. We need to walk carefully.”

  Tuomas nodded in agreement. The crust of ice was still underfoot. It wouldn’t be dangerous if they fell through it, but it would certainly cause a hindrance.

  Stellan bent to scoop up some snow and pressed it firmly into a ball. Then he handed it to Eevi, trying to get her to put it in her mouth. It wasn’t as good as water, but if she let it melt on her tongue, it would do.

  More coughing came from nearby. Elin.

  Tuomas dropped back until her sleigh caught up with him. She was sitting against the sleeping sacks with a blanket wrapped around her. Only her eyes were visible, peering out from a gap in the fabric, heavy and red with exhaustion. She clutched her bow between her knees.

  He rummaged in the food pouch at his belt. There were some strips of reindeer jerky and a couple of salmon cakes inside it. He removed the cakes, reasoning that they would be easier to eat, and passed them to her. She took them with a shaky hand and pulled the blanket down a little to show him a grateful smile.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  Tuomas motioned to his own face, urging her to cover herself again. She didn’t argue and did as he said.

  Eevi started coughing again, harder this time. The sound was horrible. Stellan hurried to the reindeer pulling the sleigh and grabbed its harness, forcing it to stop.

  Tuomas skied over and almost balked at the sight. Eevi was only a little younger than him, but she was so ravaged, she looked like an old woman. Her entire face was whiter than the snow; even her lips had completely lost their colour and turned blue. Blood dribbled down her chin.

  Panic mounted in Tuomas’s chest and he waved frantically at Lilja.

  “Where’s her parents?” he hissed to Stellan.

  “Over there. I’ll get them,” he replied, and hurried off.

  Lilja skidded past him and came to rest beside the sleigh.

  “Tuomas, get in there with her. Keep her warm,” she ordered, pulling her mittens off as she spoke.

  He immediately climbed into the sleigh’s belly. Lilja wrenched a reindeer skin out of the back. Tuomas gathered Eevi in his arms and pressed himself against her, trying to lend her as much body heat as he could. Lilja laid the skin over them, fur side down. At that moment, Ritva and Frode arrived, their faces tight with worry. Ritva leapt into the sleigh to help.

  “Keep her warm,” Lilja said again. “Make sure she can breathe.”

  Eevi coughed again, bringing up more blood. It stained Tuomas’s sleeves bright red.

  Then he almost screamed. Mist began to pool out of the girl’s mouth. It wrapped around her throat like living ropes.

  Ritva tried to bat it away, but it slipped through her fingers. She cried out with fright and pulled Eevi close, rubbing her arms, despe
rate to get heat into them.

  “Help her!” Frode shouted at Lilja.

  “I am,” she insisted, eyes wide as she tried to think. She started trembling.

  All the time, the mist continued curling, spreading over Eevi’s face and worming into her eyes.

  “Make it stop!” she gasped. “Please! Mother!”

  “Enska!” Frode bellowed. “Enska, where are you?”

  His yells echoed around the pass and bounced back from all directions. The reindeer sensed the panic and quickened their pace. A few herders hurried to keep up with them, but most ran to the sleigh to see what the matter was. When they saw Eevi, a gasp of horror flew into the air.

  Tuomas looked at Lilja. He could hear her muttering under her breath.

  “Please don’t… Aki... please stop…”

  Enska shouldered his way through the crowd. He tried to prise the misty tendrils away too, quickly realised it wasn’t working. Then he held a finger under Eevi’s nose.

  He leaned across Tuomas, pulled her out of the sleigh and laid her on her back in the snow. He latched his mouth onto hers and blew hard until her chest rose.

  Eevi lurched forward and coughed again. Enska sprung away, narrowly missing a spray of blood. Ritva and Frode watched with bated breath.

  “Mother…” Eevi wheezed as her eyes glazed over. The mist drew tighter around her neck until it pressed like a noose against the skin. She drew in a feeble gasp, bubbling deep in her lungs, and then fell silent.

  Nobody moved or spoke for a long moment. Ritva jumped out of the sleigh and tapped Eevi on the cheek. When there was no response, she started shaking her harder and harder. The girl still didn’t move.

  “Eevi?” she shrieked. “Eevi! Baby, wake up! Wake up!”

  Frode fell backwards into the snow, his face blank. Ritva began screaming. The sound filled the entire pass and tore through Tuomas like a physical wound. He had never heard a noise like it.

  Lilja was frozen in shock. Eevi’s eyes were still open, gazing blankly into nothing. All the light had gone out of them, like ice had formed across their surface.

  Tuomas tried to stand, but his legs refused to work and he tumbled over the edge of the sleigh. He landed at Lilja’s feet. She snatched his coat and bundled him upright, but didn’t let go, as though the entire World would crash around her if she did.

  Frode crawled to Ritva and put his arms around her. She was rocking back and forth in distress, cradling her daughter to her chest, as if Eevi wasn’t a teenager, but the infant she had once nursed.

  Enska approached Lilja and Tuomas. He laid one hand on his drum for comfort and bit his lip hard to keep his emotions in check. His face was speckled with tiny flecks of blood.

  “There’s our first,” he muttered. “I fear it won’t be the last.”

  Lilja didn’t look at him. She still had hold of Tuomas’s coat, and as she squeezed it, her knuckles turned white.

  “What do we do now?” Tuomas asked. He had never seen anyone die in the mountains before.

  “We’ll take her with us,” said Enska. “I can’t do funerary rites here, and we need to get through this place as quickly as possible. We’ll wrap her up and carry her in the sleigh, then bury her when we get to Anaar.”

  Tuomas’s alarm must have showed on his face.

  “But what about the others?” he whispered. “The other children, their parents… they’ll know there’s a dead body with us. And the sickness caused it.”

  “There’s nothing we can do about that,” Enska insisted.

  Tuomas looked past Lilja to where Elin’s sleigh had stopped. She was peering at him through her blankets. Even from here, he could tell she knew what had happened. Everybody did. Ritva’s screams were unmistakable.

  Then came another noise, somewhere above, rising over all others. A crack.

  Tuomas glanced at Lilja. She was still staring at the ground, face hollow with guilt. He quickly shook her to get her attention.

  “Did you hear that?”

  She blinked hard. “What?”

  “There’s something up there…”

  He had barely finished speaking when it came again, louder. This time, Enska and a few others seemed to hear it too, because they all turned to look up at the sides of the pass. Right on cue, a huge chunk of snow fell from one of the ridges and crashed down on the path behind them. Then, as quickly as it happened, all was quiet again.

  “We need to get out of here,” Enska said.

  He hadn’t even raised his voice, but at once, the herders began to move, running ahead and ushering the reindeer to go faster.

  Tuomas chanced a glance at the ridges. No more snow had come loose, but they couldn’t risk staying here. The onset of the spring thaw, coupled with the blizzard, had left the place unstable. It could collapse at any moment, and all it would take was one slide in the wrong direction.

  The Spirits and monsters of the mountains had been awoken. Tuomas felt them rumbling under his feet; they were angry a death had occurred in their domain.

  Another crack came, louder than the ones before. He froze, hardly daring to look.

  The screaming started: a noise of sheer panic. Everybody ran; even the reindeer stampeded, their eyes rolling crazily.

  The last of the snow slipped from the ridges in a great slab. It quickly gathered momentum as it flowed down the mountainside, roaring like a thousand demons. It grew into a giant cloud and flew through the pass, straight at them.

  Tuomas abandoned his ski poles and fled. He slipped on the hard ice crust, barely keeping his balance. Terror raged in his blood as the avalanche swelled behind him, rising a hundred feet into the air.

  It was coming faster than any of them could run. Soon it would be upon them.

  Lilja sprinted alongside him. She was clutching her drum against her chest, so tight, he thought her fingers might tear through the skin.

  An insane idea suddenly shot through his mind.

  He had laid down a protective barrier at the lake, but drums could unleash restraints and shockwaves if the mage struck them with enough taika. He had seen it done; managed it himself once before, when he’d faced Kari on the Mustafjord.

  There was no time to warm his drum or spin a circle. He would just have to take his chances.

  He ripped it from his belt, stopped running, then turned and faced the avalanche.

  Lilja noticed and came at him.

  “What are you doing?” she shrieked.

  Tuomas didn’t listen to her – he could barely hear her over the deafening noise. She wouldn’t reach him in time.

  He planted his feet and raised the antler hammer high in the air. He closed his eyes, drew up all his power, let it race through his muscles until they felt as though they were on fire. It was almost enough to lift him off the ground…

  He called to all the Spirits, to the mountains, to the Great Bear. Then he let out a bellowing chant and hit the drum as hard as he could.

  The avalanche caved in two, a line splitting it cleanly down the middle. The blast almost knocked him over. Walls of raging snow formed on either side, held at bay by sheer will.

  He carried on chanting, as loud as his lungs could bear, pushing his taika outwards. The snow curved around him, flowing past the herders and reindeer like two thundering rivers split at a confluence. Everyone stopped running and looked around in wonder.

  The force of it drove Tuomas to his knees, but he kept drumming, snatching breaths as quickly as he could to maintain the chant. He wasn’t singing to the avalanche; he was the avalanche, and it would move where he decided.

  It rushed down the pass, boulders and snow tumbling over each other, powder shooting towards the sky, until it finally began to slow. After what seemed like an eternity, he sensed the last of it draw to a halt, and all was still.

  He collapsed onto his side. His chest burned with taika; it felt as though he had been trampled by every single reindeer in the herd. Groaning with exhaustion, he raised his head to check if anyone
was hurt.

  An amazing sight greeted him. The settled avalanche had formed two massive white flanks along the pass, tapering out like arrowheads. In the untouched space between them, the animals and people were huddled together, looking shaken but definitely alive. They hadn’t even lost a single sleigh.

  Lilja ran over and threw herself down next to him. For a moment, she couldn’t even speak.

  “What… how…? How did you do that?”

  “Shockwave. I just focused,” Tuomas breathed. “I just…”

  She suddenly pulled him into a hug. Enska appeared behind her, his mouth hanging open.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” he said, visibly shaken. “Ever…”

  Tuomas managed a small smile. Even he could barely believe it had worked. He lay limp in Lilja’s arms and stared up at the sky. The Sun Spirit shone down upon him.

  “Thank you…” he muttered, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The convoy headed along the pass as quickly as they could, taking advantage of the clear sky to keep moving until they lost all light. They sheltered behind a rock face to build the camp, but nobody slept well. The memory of the avalanche was still too close for comfort.

  Tuomas didn’t wake until the next morning. As soon as the sky began to lighten with the approaching dawn, the herders packed the tents and carried on, over the last crest.

  At the top, they were met with a glorious view. The route started sloping down the far side of the mountains, back towards the smooth tundra, darkened here and there by the figures of birch trees. In the distance, a blue sea sparkled like diamonds, the welcoming summer islands rearing from its water.

  It was strange to see after months of whiteness. Spring was well on its way here: colour splashed across the landscape, and in places, patches of grass and heather had broken through the snow. And not far from the coast, a massive crowd of reindeer was visible: the Einfjall and Akerfjorden herds.

  The sight gave everyone new energy. They descended the slope, moving carefully to avoid triggering any more avalanches. But when the snow became solid underfoot, the reindeer ran the rest of the way until they were back on the flat. The herders let them, too relieved to be going down after climbing for so long.