The Mist Children

by E. C. Hibbs

  The moment the Sun Spirit set, the Great Bear Spirit whisked her and the three humans out of the gateway. They emerged into a World turned purple by the low light, but that wasn’t what stunned her. Now her panic over her brother was gone, she could see the true extent of the tear in the sky. It was a great line which ran from north to south, split like a crack in an egg. Stardust rained from the edges in a waterfall of diamonds.

  And she had done it.

  She turned away and shuddered with guilt. She could feel the difference; in the air, the ground, everywhere. Each tree, rock, and ice crystal had changed. Taika surrounded her, leaking through the gash, unchecked and wild. She had never known anything so broken, and it was all her fault. All because she had been foolish enough to feel like a human.

  The Bear took them high, just enough for her to feel the pull of the other realm. She deliberately didn’t look at it. She didn’t want to think about how close and yet so far she was from home – or see her mother’s smug pockmarked face.

  Please, look after the souls for me, she said quietly.

  I promise you that, White Fox One, the Bear replied, in the first gentle tone she had heard all day.

  Before long, the coast appeared below, the migration islands rising from the glistening water like a series of jagged teeth. Just like in the World Below, all the mist had vanished from the surface. On the largest island, Anaar, she noticed the reindeer roaming over the hills, their young calves staggering after them on the search for lichen. Smoke drifted from the tops of the huts. Only a few people lingered around the central fire pit. Everyone else was asleep. Even from the sky, she heard the sound of weeping.

  The Bear descended onto the beach where she had watched the draugars drag Elin away. It deposited them on the shingle, then rose up again and disappeared into the darkness.

  Still weakened from her ordeal, she crawled wretchedly into the trees. She found a patch of snow, laid down upon it, and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Thirty

  The pain was everywhere. It was in his chest, his throat, all the muscles in his body and over every inch of his flesh. Tuomas managed to drag a hand to the back of his head and felt a lump. His hair was wet. He opened his eyes and checked his fingers, but was relieved to find no blood.

  He was lying on his side, his drum right next to him. Everything was hazy and blurred. The waves lapped around him, then drew away, hissing and whispering as they drained through the pebbles.

  He frowned. Where was he? Why wasn’t he under the water? How was he even breathing?

  Wherever he was, the surroundings were different. There was something unhinged in the air, as though all the forces holding things in their place had shifted and come apart. It tasted strange; felt dense, like he was stuck in thick mud. It was wrong… so very wrong…

  He suddenly became aware of a burning pain in his chest. He explored the edges of his torn tunic, then across his skin, and drew back with a yelp. There was no wound, but it felt as though there should be. He hadn’t been that tender since Kari had stabbed him.

  He looked around and noticed a blurry figure nearby. He saw fur trousers, a tunic embroidered with a mountain, a long black braid…

  “Elin?” he groaned. Slowly but surely, she swam into focus.

  Ignoring the aches, he flipped onto his front and crawled towards her. His hand came down on her shoulder and relief flooded him. She was real.

  Her chest was moving. She was alive.

  The haziness began to fade. Colours found their boundaries again and the shape of her face appeared. Her eyes were closed, but her skin was pink and solid – there wasn’t a patch of grey on her at all. The mist was gone. He could even see a little muscle twitching in her neck.

  “Elin?” he said again, and immediately winced. His voice rasped like an old man’s, throat still in spasm from the amount of water it had sucked in. He clutched his ribs, trying to breathe through the pain.

  Elin stirred, then coughed. But there was no rattle to it; no blood welled between her lips. In fact, she looked healthier than she had for weeks.

  “Tuomas? Is that you?”

  He managed a smile. “Yes. Are you alright?”

  “Mmm.”

  Tuomas tore his eyes away from her to look around. The sound of running water was on the air, and the grunts of baby reindeer. There was no ice; no tundra. He recognised the beach: they were back at Anaar.

  Then he glanced upward and froze. The entire sky looked like it was on fire, but not from Lumi’s Lights. It was so horrifying, he cried out.

  Elin forced herself into a sitting position. She saw the cascade of stardust too and gasped.

  “Tuomas…” she breathed. “What is that?”

  “I don’t know,” he rasped back.

  “Tuomas!”

  “What?”

  He looked at her. Her eyes were huge. She motioned to his head.

  “Your ears!”

  He frowned and reached up to his hair. His fingers brushed something soft and furry. They ended in fleshy points, either side of his head. Then he looked behind him and yelped in alarm when he noticed the tail.

  “What in the name of –?”

  He tried to move the tail. Sure enough, it flicked from left to right and sent shingle flying. He turned his attention to the ears and they responded, too. He felt for his human ears, but they were gone; only the root of the fox ones lay in their place.

  Elin went to stand and crashed down onto all fours. Tuomas hurried to help her, but she sharply turned away from him.

  “Don’t,” she snapped.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  Then he noticed another figure, lying face-down a few feet away. Elin saw it too and stopped dead.

  Tuomas crawled to the body and turned it over. Shock stung him. It was Aki, surrounded by the sodden folds of his coat. He looked just like he had in the trance with Lilja: in the body of a five-year-old child. And perfectly alive.

  Tuomas pulled him into his lap and fished long strands of sandy hair out of his mouth. His cheeks were still scarred, but his flesh was pink and warm. Tuomas peeled back his eyelid, half-expecting to find a cloudy white globe, but there was nothing of the sort. Only his mother’s brilliant blue.

  “They let him go,” Tuomas gasped. “But… wait… why am I here? I gave myself over to them.”

  He broke off, looking around the empty beach. “Where are the others? Where’s Paavo?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Elin asked tensely.

  Her words crashed onto Tuomas like hailstones. He turned to face her. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line and her eyes flickered between him and Aki, blazing with tears.

  “That’s Lilja’s son,” she blurted. “All this time, she had a son. She told you, didn’t she? Why didn’t you tell me he was the one behind the plague?”

  Tuomas’s stomach flipped. “He wasn’t… not really. And I promised Lilja I’d keep it secret.”

  “Did you know about her?” Elin demanded. “Her and… my father?”

  “No. I swear. Not until last night.”

  Elin trembled, holding in sobs with all her strength. “I heard you talking about it. I was only behind that bush.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you were in bed.”

  “You weren’t even going to tell me, were you? Even if those things hadn’t dragged me off!”

  Tuomas reached towards her, but she scuttled away from him, her brows slanting in contempt.

  That snapped something inside him.

  “I don’t know what I would have done, alright?” he barked, spitting out the words in a choked wheeze. “But you know what I did do? I tried to end the plague and save you! I went after you! I told the draugars they could take me instead of you!”

  Elin stared at him, then reached into her tunic, withdrew something, and threw it. It hit him in the face and bounced onto the stones between them. It was the fox carving he had given her.

  Before he could speak, there was the crun
ch of a footfall on the shingle and Aino appeared. She took one look at the state of them and yelled over her shoulder for help.

  It didn’t take long for a crowd of people to swarm out of the woods. Gasps of alarm flew through the air. Everyone started talking at the same time; Tuomas couldn’t make out individual words. When they saw him, they exclaimed; some fell onto their knees. Tuomas tried to flatten his ears and hide the tail behind his legs.

  Alda and Sigurd saw Elin and ran over so fast, they almost lost their footing. Elin scrambled upright and met them halfway. The three of them collapsed in a heap, crying and showering each other with kisses.

  The mages shouldered their way to the front. Lilja’s legs wobbled and Enska snatched her shoulders, but she shrugged him off and bolted towards Tuomas. She flung herself down in front of him, took a moment to touch his cheek tenderly, and pulled Aki from his lap. She ran her fingers across her son’s hair, unable to believe he was real. Then she held him close and buried her face in his chest, sobs wracking her entire body.

  Over Elin’s head, Sigurd’s gaze flickered to Lilja. His eyes widened and his cheeks grew paler than death. He covered his mouth with one hand, realisation written blatantly across his face.

  Henrik strode past Lilja and snatched Tuomas’s arm with surprising strength.

  “What have you done, boy?” he hissed. “What in the name of all the Spirits have you done?”

  The afternoon passed in a fog as Tuomas fought to stay lucid. But every now and then, fatigue would overcome him, every muscle screaming with pain, and restless slumber dragged him under. It reminded him horribly of the fever he had endured in Einfjall, when hypothermia had gripped him and the skin of his iced fingers peeled away.

  He was vaguely aware of being laid down, and staring up through a smoke hole, the Sun Spirit spinning overhead. Her glow pulled at him until his souls became loose and he floated towards her, spinning through the endlessness.

  But this time, it felt different. Wrong. It was as though an invisible pressure was closing around him, filling the air with something awful and unnatural. Uncontrollable terror mounted inside him.

  What is this? he yelled.

  No reply came.

  He jolted awake with a cry and sat up. Two faces snapped around to look at him.

  It was Enska and Lilja. He realised he must be in their hut. Both their drums hung on knots in the wall beams, and the unmistakable smell of healing herbs shot up his nose with every breath. Tuomas’s own drum hung beside theirs, the skin around the frame wrinkled from moisture.

  “So, you’re awake. At last,” Enska said. He pulled his shoes on and glanced at Lilja. “I’ll get the others. Do you want to take Aki somewhere? Henrik will ask questions.”

  Lilja looked at Aki, lying in her lap with his eyes closed. She’d changed him into some new, dry clothes – they obviously belonged to her or Enska because they swamped his little body.

  She felt his temperature and shook her head.

  “No, he’s too cold. And if an old man can keep his own secrets for an entire lifetime, then surely he can keep mine.”

  Enska squeezed her shoulder in comfort. Then, without another word, he walked past Tuomas and disappeared through the door. A blast of cold night air flew in and made the flames in the hearth dance.

  Tuomas stared after him nervously. Enska’s voice held none of its usual warmth. In fact, he seemed livid.

  “What others?” he asked Lilja.

  “The mages,” she replied. “We all need to talk to you.”

  Tuomas held a hand to his chest and coughed. His ribs were burning; it felt as though he had breathed in acid rather than water. Then he examined himself. He was wearing new clothes too: the tunic had no rip down the middle and was embroidered with Poro patterns, just like Aki’s. His hands and arms were covered with bite marks. They weren’t deep, but the sight of them sent a shiver through him. He could still feel the draugars pulling at him as the lake filled his lungs.

  He touched his head. The ears were still there. He grasped the tip of one and dug his fingernail into it. He winced – yes, it was real. It was part of him.

  “Why do I have these?” he asked.

  “How should I know, Red Fox One?” Lilja replied.

  Her tone startled him. She hadn’t spoken to him like that since they had first met. Back when they were strangers.

  Desperate to break down her defensiveness, he looked at Aki again. She cradled him like a baby, as though terrified he would slip away if she let go of him.

  “The mist is gone off the sea,” he said. “Please tell me the draugars are gone, too. Have the kids stopped coughing?”

  Lilja nodded. “Yes.”

  Tuomas was so relieved, he fell back against the wall. He couldn’t figure out how, but whatever he had done had worked. They were safe.

  Then he thought of the moment he had woken on the beach. Anxiety returned like ice in his heart.

  “Have… Sigurd or Elin been here?” he asked.

  Lilja glared at him over the flames.

  “No. Elin’s sleeping off her ordeal. And anyway, why should either of them come?”

  Tuomas nervously twisted his fingers into the fur of the sleeping sack. He chose his words with care.

  “Lilja, Elin heard you telling me about him. And Sigurd saw you at the beach.”

  She tensed and swallowed a sob before it could overcome her.

  “So, they know,” she said quietly. Her voice broke with defeat. “I never thought it would happen this way. I didn’t think it would happen at all.”

  Tuomas swallowed. “Are you angry with me?”

  She didn’t answer, so he tried a different tack.

  “I’m so sorry for what I said to you. I was just –”

  “I know you were upset.”

  “I did my best. I just didn’t tell you where I was going because I knew you’d try to follow me. I didn’t want you to get hurt. I tried to save him.”

  “Did you?” Lilja said coldly. “And while I’m personally overjoyed to have my baby back, did you stop for a moment to think about the consequences of whatever you did?”

  She snatched the topmost log from the woodpile and hurled it at the fire. It bounced off a hearthstone and sent sparks flying.

  Tuomas flinched. He had never seen her like this. None of her past frustrations with him came close to the fury which now blazed in her eyes. In a way, it scared him even more than when she had been under Kari’s control.

  “There’s only one option open to me now,” she said. “As soon as he’s well enough, Aki and I are leaving.”

  Tuomas gasped. “No, please! Don’t!”

  “What else can I do?” she snapped. “Everything I worked for has been undone.”

  “So you’re going to just run away?”

  “You’re a fine one to talk about running away.”

  Tuomas opened his mouth to argue, but her remark cut him too deeply and all that came out was a cough. Then the door swung open and Enska stepped back in, followed by Henrik, Aino, and Niina.

  They settled around the fire. Their expressions were grave, unreadable; and bore down on Tuomas like a physical weight.

  Henrik was the first to speak.

  “You have some explaining to do, boy.”

  Tuomas squirmed. “I was only trying to help.”

  “Forget what you were trying to do. This is about what you did do.” Henrik glared at him. “I thought I had prepared you better than this.”

  The disappointment in his old teacher’s voice was more hurtful than if he had been struck.

  “We all felt something happen yesterday,” said Niina. “The sky’s torn open.”

  Tuomas’s breath turned to stone in his lungs. He shot a terrified glance at Lilja. She looked back evenly, silent knowledge hanging between the two of them. She was the only one who he had told about the tear, back in the mountains.

  He shook his head. “I didn’t do that. I didn’t go anywhere near the World Above.”


  “Then how do you explain it?” Aino snapped. “You are the only one here with enough power to do something like that!”

  “I didn’t do it!” Tuomas cried. “I swear!”

  “Who knows what you did?” Lilja said darkly.

  “That’s not all which is different,” Enska added. He reached over and touched Tuomas’s ears. “Your taika has changed. I can feel it coming off you. It’s too strong… far too strong to be contained in a physical body. Frankly, I don’t understand how you’re still alive, Son of the Sun or not.”

  Tuomas’s pulse hammered in his ears. He looked beseechingly at Lilja, but her face was as blank as a stone.

  “Please,” he said, on the verge of tears. “I don’t understand. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone! I just wanted to –”

  Suddenly, it all came flooding back. He remembered choking on the cold water, then the jet of green coming towards him; staring up at Lumi in her human form. There had been no sign of Paavo, or Sisu, or any of the other dead. Only Elin and Aki, when he awoke on the shore.

  The terrible truth dawned on him.

  “She sacrificed them to save me,” he breathed.

  “What, boy?” Henrik barked.

  Tuomas held his hands to his mouth, struggling to process it all.

  Enska crawled closer to him. “You need to tell us everything. No excuses, no guesses. Everything.”

  Tears burst from Tuomas’s eyes and flowed uncontrollably down his face. He didn’t even have the energy to sob. He simply recounted everything that had happened since he left Einfjall: Lumi’s furious warning in the tundra, the Great Bear Spirit’s revelation that he was the one meant to trap the draugars in the World Below. And how he had wantonly defied it to save all who had been lost.

  The only part he left out was the Deathlands across the ashy desert. Despite everything, he couldn’t bear to mention that river of nightmares.

  When he was done, the mages sat stunned, not uttering a word. Even Lilja looked shaken by the story.

  After several long moments of uncomfortable silence, Aino finally spoke.

  “So that’s how you came back with Elin and… the boy,” she said, glancing uneasily at Aki. Lilja manoeuvred him so he was more hidden in the shadows, her eyes like daggers. Aino noticed and looked back at Tuomas.