The Mist Children

by E. C. Hibbs

  Sisu looked up in alarm. “What’s the matter?”

  Tuomas shook his head. “I’ve been so selfish. Mihka was right, I’ve hardly spent any time with him. I got his life-soul back and then I ran off because I was scared. And now, when I want to be with him, he’s…”

  He screwed his eyes closed and took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control.

  Sisu crawled around the fire so he was kneeling in front of Tuomas, and clutched his arms in his two large hands.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  Tuomas did, but his cheeks burned with shame.

  “I will be forever grateful for what you did for him,” Sisu whispered. “He’s all I have left. I know he’s never helped himself, but I love him so much, and I owe everything to you. And I can’t even begin to imagine what you had to go through to bring him back to me. You can cry, Tuomas. Cry all you need to.”

  Tuomas squeezed the pouch so hard, the bone cut into his stumpy fingers. He remembered whittling it in Lilja’s tent, back before he knew anything, when all that mattered was waking Mihka. It was all so much more now. He wanted to tell Sisu, to open his mouth and let all his anxieties pour out, but he restrained himself; only sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Sisu didn’t let go of his arm. “Are you alright? Why don’t you stay awhile and get warm? Have you eaten?”

  “I’m warm enough,” Tuomas said. “Can you tell me where Paavo is, please?”

  “He’s in with Henrik,” replied Sisu. “The last tent on the right, I think. Do you want me to come with you?”

  Tuomas shook his head. “No, stay with Mihka. He needs you.”

  As though he’d heard his own name, Mihka spluttered and twisted around in his sleeping sack so he was closer to the fire. A fresh line of blood trickled out of his mouth.

  Sisu immediately returned to his side. Tuomas let the flap fall back into place and walked away until he spotted Henrik’s tent. He heard coughing from inside.

  The sound tore his heart, but it also lent a wave of relief. Paavo was awake.

  He tapped the frame to let Henrik know he was there, then let himself in. The shelter still stank of Henrik’s tea. It made Tuomas’s eyes water, but he was glad for that. It would disguise the fact that he’d been crying. Even with Sisu’s kind words, he couldn’t let Paavo see how distressed he was.

  “You took your time,” Henrik noted, but not nastily.

  “I needed to be alone.”

  Tuomas looked past him to where Paavo was lying. As well as his sleeping sack, he was wrapped in blankets and covered with Henrik’s own coat. The layers disguised him in a mound of fur and fabric, but Tuomas knew that beneath them, his brother’s once-strong body would be as skinny as a sapling.

  Paavo peered at Tuomas with bleary bloodshot eyes.

  “Where have you been?” he asked, but coughed loudly before he could finish.

  The sight shook Tuomas to the core. He turned back to Henrik and laid a hand on the old mage’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Thank you so much for looking after him while I was gone.”

  Henrik held his eyes for a moment, then nodded and patted his wrist gently.

  “We’re all family here, boy. You know that.”

  He grasped one of the poles and used it to haul himself to his feet. His knees clicked as he moved and he let out a loud groan.

  “Have some time with him,” he said. “I need to speak with Aino and Enska anyway. We need to figure out an alternative for when the herbs run out.”

  Tuomas helped him hobble his way outside, then closed the flap behind him. As soon as Henrik was gone, he manoeuvred his way to Paavo’s side and checked his temperature. It was still alarmingly hot. His forehead was soaked with sweat; it had seeped into his hair and turned the blonde strands dim and greasy. He smelled terrible.

  “Where have you been?” Paavo asked again.

  Tuomas did his best to offer a small smile. “Elin and I went to find Lilja. Remember?”

  “Not really…”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m back now. You’ll have to put up with me again.”

  “Spirits, help me,” Paavo smirked. “Sorry I won’t be able to cook for a while.”

  Tuomas snorted. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

  Paavo managed a weak shrug. “On the other hand, I did tell you not to go running off again, or I’d stop feeding you.”

  “You’ll thank me for it later,” said Tuomas.

  He twisted around to the hearth, where a pot of tea was bubbling in the flames. Tuomas grabbed a cup and half-filled it. He curled his hand around the back of Paavo’s head and raised him so he could drink.

  Paavo grimaced. “Not that stuff again.”

  “It’s good for you,” Tuomas insisted. As soon as he spoke, however, he bit his tongue. The best thing the tea could do was alleviate the symptoms, but it would never be the cure. And he was no closer to discovering that than when he and Henrik had visited the shrine.

  Paavo managed a few meagre mouthfuls, then gagged and coughed violently. A mixture of tea and blood splattered his front.

  It wasn’t the first time Tuomas had seen it, but it suddenly broke something inside him. His tears returned with the force of a wave, spilling down his cheeks before he could stop them. He laid his body across Paavo’s and hugged him. Through the layers, his bones felt as brittle as twigs.

  “Don’t give up,” he begged. “Please! I need you to fight this! Lilja and me… we’ll fix everything, we’ll make it better!”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Paavo replied. “It’s going to take more than this to end me.”

  For some reason, his steadfastness hurt Tuomas even more. He didn’t dare let go, in case Paavo would somehow slip away from him. With every breath, he could hear the crackling in his lungs. His whole chest vibrated from it. Tuomas could almost picture the horrible mist writhing under his ribs, growing stronger, entwining around his souls until the time it would burst out of his mouth and choke him.

  “Promise me,” he cried. “Please.”

  Paavo wormed both his arms free and crossed them over Tuomas’s back.

  “I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty

  By the time Henrik returned, Paavo had fallen into a fitful sleep. Tuomas accepted a cup of tea and drank it slowly, letting his mind wander so he wouldn’t taste it as much. The two of them ate a piece of salted reindeer flank, then Henrik threw another log on the fire and laid down.

  “Best get some rest, boy,” he said. “It will be a hard day tomorrow.”

  Tuomas nodded, but then paused. “I haven’t got my sack. I must have left it in one of the sleighs.”

  “Well, go and get it, then,” said Henrik. He wriggled around on the reindeer skins so there would be room for Tuomas and closed his eyes.

  Tuomas stepped back outside. It was truly night now – the temperature had plummeted, but even though he was aware of it, it didn’t chill him. He felt as though he could have taken off his coat and easily carried on with no ill effect.

  He walked to the sleighs at the edge of the camp. Another was a short distance from the others: the small one which he and Elin had taken to find Poro. Inside were four dark shapes. They were wrapped in old blankets, but their shape was unmistakable. They were the bodies of the children.

  The mages had laid down a protective circle to keep evil out, though Tuomas couldn’t help but feel the effect was lost. Evil had gotten into the poor youngsters while they were still alive. It had already claimed their souls. This ritual was more for the comfort of the living than the dead.

  He let his feet carry him to the circle. He raised a hand and held it to the barrier, and sure enough, it repelled him like the clearest sheet of ice. The bodies wouldn’t be buried until the crossing was done. They would be taken across the water with everything else, and then, when the migration was finally over, they could be buried at the shrine o
n Anaar. To let them lie in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to mark them, would be discourteous to their souls.

  Then he noticed Lilja sitting by herself on the other side of the circle, staring into the dark distance. She was barely visible, far outside the glow of any fire. Only her silhouette against the white snow showed she was there.

  He approached slowly so as not to startle her, but even when he was close enough to touch her, she still didn’t move.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  She turned around. Her eyes were still as wide as they had been in the mountain pass. It made him uncomfortable – she was the only one who hadn’t looked at him differently, even from the very beginning.

  He went to leave, but she caught his wrist and silently invited him to sit with her. She had taken an old reindeer skin from the sleighs: the only barrier between her and the snow. As he settled at her side, he caught the damp smell of it and grimaced.

  “Please stop staring,” he said.

  She averted her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just still a little shocked.”

  “About Eevi and the others? I noticed you ran away before anyone could speak to you.”

  “That was…” She broke off and quickly changed the subject. “About the avalanche, as well. How did you manage to do that?”

  Tuomas shrugged. “I just tried to make a big shockwave.”

  “No mage has ever had the power to do something like that,” said Lilja. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You are the Son of the Sun, after all. But it’s something else to actually see it.”

  Tuomas shuffled uncomfortably. “Does it change the way you see me?”

  She shook her head. “Of course not. I’m just shaken, that’s all. Don’t mind me.”

  “It’s changed things for everyone else.” He ran his fingers through the snow between his legs, pushed it into a mound, then flattened it with his palm. “They were treating me strangely before, but now… they’re looking straight through me. It’s like I’m not even human.”

  “Well, that’s half right,” Lilja mused. “You’re a Spirit in human form. Not really one thing or the other.”

  “I hate it,” Tuomas snarled. “I don’t understand why it had to be me.”

  Lilja glanced at him, then tentatively laid a hand on his arm.

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t know what it’s like to be the Son of the Sun, but I know what it’s like to be alone.” She let out a long sigh. “Even with Kari and my little boy, I was alone. They never saw the Bear like I did.”

  She shifted her hand across his shoulder until her fingers hovered over his breastbone. There, under the layers of coats and tunics, was the scar from when her brother had tried to cut out his heart.

  “Does that ever hurt?” she asked.

  Tuomas shook his head. “No. Does the one on your throat hurt?”

  “No. Not since Kari died.” Lilja let go of him and hugged her knees to her chest. “You know, when you met me, I didn’t know what to think about him. He was the only one who stayed with me when I left Poro. He raised Aki, tried to get him away from those draugars. And then… I found him that morning, making a demon, and he set it on me when I refused to help him…”

  She held a hand to her neck.

  “Calling the Spirits to seal him in that cairn was the only thing I could have done. I loved him and I hated him,” she said. “I suppose that extends to practically everyone I’ve ever known. Except Enska. And you.”

  Tuomas blinked in shock. “Why?”

  “Because you’ve never been superfluous.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’ve never hounded me or asked me to do stupid things. You’re genuine. When you came looking for me, it was for something bigger than yourself. I haven’t seen that all too often. It made for a nice change.”

  Lilja cleared her throat awkwardly. “And maybe because of who you are. As much a Spirit as you are a human. Spirits have always been better company to me.”

  Tuomas smirked. He could tell how difficult it was for her to pay a compliment like that. But he couldn’t deny how much it meant to him, for reasons Lilja hadn’t even said.

  “Why are you out here by yourself?” he asked.

  She shot him a wry look.

  “Well, fair enough. I know you prefer it,” he said.

  “I thought it would be better for me to stay out of the way,” she admitted. “I couldn’t bear the idea of seeing all those children and their parents. And the three villages coming together like this… It’s not really my idea of a good time.”

  She twirled the end of one of her braids between her fingers. Tuomas glanced at her, trying to choose his words carefully.

  “Have you ever thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so awkward if you did join in?”

  Lilja snorted. “Easier said than done. I’m sure you’re beginning to understand why.”

  “But people have been asking for you,” Tuomas insisted. “Sigurd and Alda were wondering how you were.”

  “You can tell them I’m fine,” replied Lilja.

  “Sigurd was saying he wanted to apologise for turning you away. When I was sick. Do you remember?”

  “Like yesterday. It’s fine. Let’s not talk about it. That whole ordeal isn’t my fondest memory.”

  Lilja let her braid fall and turned back to him. “Anyway, didn’t you say you were going to the Northern Edge?”

  Tuomas threw up his arms in defeat. “I can’t. Sigurd told me the way is blocked. Too much snow.”

  Lilja rolled her eyes. “Of course it is.”

  “What am I going to do?” asked Tuomas.

  “The only thing you can,” she answered. “Come to Anaar. Help your fellow mages and keep an eye on your friends. Once everyone’s there and settled, hopefully the thaw will have spread a little and cleared the route. Unless you blasted through the snowbanks with your taika.”

  “You think I could do that?”

  “You’re asking me what you’re capable of? I’m not the one who split an avalanche.”

  “I don’t know what I’m capable of,” Tuomas said in a tiny voice.

  Lilja gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, when things feel out of control, the best thing to do is control whatever you can. So… about being your mentor. I told you I couldn’t teach you anything. I can’t hold a torch to your power.”

  “Then why not teach me how to do smaller things?” asked Tuomas. Even if it was something as miniscule as mixing a new tea, he would have been grateful for the distraction.

  “Like what?”

  “Like…” He thought quickly. “Like walking through fire. Can you do that?”

  Lilja raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I can.”

  She laced her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. “Alright, I suppose there’s no point in sitting here and moping all night. Get some wood. I’ll show you how to do it.”

  Tuomas jumped into action. He headed to the sleighs and peeled back a tarp until he found a supply of logs. He loaded them into his arms, careful to take thin ones with the papery bark still clinging to the edge. When he couldn’t carry any more, he and Lilja walked further from the camp so they wouldn’t disturb anyone.

  He kicked away the snow to expose bare rock and arranged the wood in a criss-cross pattern so the air could get in. Then he struck a flint over the bark and it caught at once, spreading first to the smaller twigs before reaching the logs. While he nursed it into life, Lilja took the remaining wood and built another fire several metres away. Before long, both were burning strongly.

  “Get your drum,” Lilja said, “and go stand over there.”

  Tuomas obeyed. He untied his drum from his belt, held it close to the fire to prepare it, and spun a circle around himself.

  “Nice to see you remembered to do that this time,” Lilja noted. “There’s no good way to explain this. You just need to drum, and chant, and picture the place you want to go. Then when you feel ready, step into the fire.”
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  Tuomas hesitated, nervously eyeing the flames. He could feel their heat reaching him already, and he wasn’t even close.

  “Won’t I get burned?” he asked.

  “Only if you believe you will,” said Lilja. “Watch. I’ll show you first.”

  She laid down her own circle, warmed her drum, then steadily struck it with the hammer. A chant poured out of her mouth: jumping and ululating in a staccato rhythm. Tuomas heard the flickering of the flame within it, captured perfectly in song. He felt Lilja’s taika growing, like a mounting pressure in the air; her voice became deeper until she sounded nothing like herself.

  Once again, he was awed by her power. It spoke of the empty tundra and open sky, the first flowers in spring, crisp lake waters and the milky scent of new-born calves…

  Then, with a confidence which made his hair stand on end, she walked into the fire. It flew up around her, licking hungrily at the fur on her coat.

  Tuomas cried out in fright. He started running towards her, hands outstretched to push her to safety. But then he realised the flames were snapping at nothing but thin air. She was gone.

  Mere seconds later, she appeared behind him, in the fire he had built. She stepped into the snow, red ashes dripping off her like water. She quickly brushed them away so they wouldn’t singe her clothes, then opened her eyes and looked at him with a smirk.

  “See? Easy.”

  Tuomas gaped at her. “How long have you been able to do that?”

  “A few years. Long enough.” She nudged him with her drum. “Your turn.”

  Fear bit at his insides as he looked at the fire. Every part of him screamed to keep away from it. And, suddenly at the forefront of his mind, he saw Kari appearing just as she had then, murder in his eyes, reaching towards him…

  His breath became shallow with panic. Lilja noticed and put her hands on his face, forcing him to look at her.

  “He isn’t here,” she said softly.

  There was such assurance in her eyes, it chased the worry back down to where he could control it. She wouldn’t let anything happen to him. And he had faced worse things than a tiny fire. Even if he did get burned a little, it would probably hurt less than enduring the frostbite which almost cost him two fingers.