Storm Pale

by D. N. Erikson

  By the time night fell, I was at Filippa’s door. I knocked twice, feeling my cargo’s heavy breathing against my tired shoulder. Argos had decided to sleep in the hills, amidst the fresh air and breeze.

  The door cracked open, a small blade poking out the slit.

  “It is late,” a crackly female voice said.

  “It’s Kalos,” I replied. “I’ve come to finish your job.”

  The door flung open fast, and the old woman burst outside with energy. “My goodness. You actually found her.”

  “Thought I wouldn’t deliver, Filippa?”

  The gray-haired merchant turned to squint at me. “Other men have died trying.”

  “How comforting. I’ll take my payment now.”

  “Yes, of course.” Filippa stepped back from the doorway. “Bring her inside.”

  “She’s a runner.”

  “She will not run from me.”

  “Not my problem,” I said. “Just a warning.”

  “She will stay.”

  “And why’s that,” I said, placing the young woman down on the dining room table in the candlelit room. The young woman, who had been sleeping on my shoulder, stirred softly. Filippa emerged with a pouch of coins, her feet shuffling along the stone ground.

  “Because she will understand her true purpose.”

  “You know she’s got…specific talents, right?”

  “Do you believe I am just an old foolish merchant?”

  “Perhaps.” I caught the coins when she tossed them to me. “You sure you can afford it?” Everything in Filippa’s residence was gilded in either bronze or gold.

  “Be gone. There’s work I must do.”

  “The essence,” I said, holding Filippa’s wrinkly arm as she tried to walk by. “Don’t think you get a discount.”

  “There are a few items in the pouch.”

  “The woman’s essence,” I said.

  “She is too weak.” The old merchant shook her head and tried to loosen my grip. I held strong.

  “A deal is a deal.”

  The old woman’s eyes met mine. After a long pause, Filippa said, “You understand that I am more than a merchant.”

  “I don’t care what you are, as long as I get paid.”

  “Spoken like a demon.”

  I took a step back and smiled. “Then my reputation precedes me.”

  “As a fellow creature of essence, I must warn you. Take the bag.”

  “Keep your trinkets,” I said, dropping the pouch on the floor and letting go of Filippa’s arm. “I’ll just take the woman.”

  “No,” Filippa said, her crackly voice quiet, “You can have your pound of flesh. But there will be consequences.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Yes, I assume you will. But there is no going back.” A blue glow diffused through the room, emanating from Filippa’s craggy hands. The soft light glinted off the metallic surfaces.

  And then the essence transfer began.

  4

  “You are ruining Isabella’s studies,” Filippa said, a stern look etched in the innumerable lines of her sage, ancient face. In addition to being the leader of the Thrace Coven, Filippa was a powerful alchemist. Now she taught these skills to Isabella. These were things I should’ve sensed when I took the retrieval job from her, but she was well-versed in keeping her aura hidden. No matter. What was done was done.

  “I don’t think she likes that name,” I said.

  “In a thousand years, she will not remember that it once was not hers.”

  “Then there’s plenty of time for studies,” I replied, tossing a grape into the white foam of the sea below. A gentle breeze whipped through my short black hair. Filippa stood a few paces away from the edge of the cliff, still a daredevil at her advanced age.

  Argos, for his part, was about a hundred feet away from danger. I could hear him whining, even though he tried to hide it.

  “She is special,” Filippa said, turning so that her luminous eyes cut straight through me. “You are too young and rash to understand.”

  “Young? I believe you have me mixed up with someone else.”

  She snorted. “It has been a year, demon. Are there not other jobs calling you?”

  I rubbed my cheeks and sighed. Filippa was right, of course. I was a mercenary, destined to wander from town to town. Settling down to chase a girl was foolishness. Except Filippa had been right about something else, too. The transference of essence had changed me. I had felt the consequences the instant the essence had flowed down my throat.

  Argos barked at a flock of gulls. He didn’t rise, however. Poor bastard was probably afraid of falling into the sea in a show of canine exuberance.

  “Well?”

  I crouched and rubbed my hands through the chalky soil. “You don’t understand.”

  “I told you to take the trinkets’ essence. It would have been the same, minus the…side effects.”

  “I’m drawn to her.”

  Her wrinkled lips turned into a smirk. “Some might call that love, demon.”

  “Why did you have me retrieve her?” I touched my chest, my heart beating faster. The thought of moving on from Thrace made me want to hurl myself on to the rocks below. Not predisposed to melodrama, this sentiment was of great concern.

  “As I have told you, the girl is special,” Filippa said, watching the boats come into the harbor. “Perhaps you will see one day.”

  “Is there anything that can be done about my…situation?”

  “I warned you, demon.” A sharp gust blew over the craggy rocks. Argos whined and flattened himself against the ground.

  “I’m not good at listening.”

  “Then hear these words,” Filippa said, her stony gaze turning to meet mine. “If you are not gone by nightfall, then I will sentence you to a fate far worse than death.”

  “I’ve already been to the Underworld,” I said.

  “The Underworld is a seaside vacation by comparison.”

  I shivered and stood. Whistling at Argos, I began the walk down from the cliff. I had plans to leave.

  But not without Isabella Kronos.

  *

  Isabella had softened considerably since our first meeting. She now understood that I was not trying to sell her to slavers—though Filippa’s magical training regime at times could resemble the slave driver’s whip. That understanding opened up a window to friendship, which I had eagerly plunged through.

  Every time I saw her, my skin grew sweaty. Even the anticipation got me. In the dying dusk, I could feel my eyes glowing almost white hot.

  Argos tugged at my pant leg with his teeth.

  I glanced down and shook him off.

  “We have to do this.”

  “Filippa is powerful,” Argos said. “And old.”

  “Good thing I have you to state the obvious. Otherwise I’d be screwed.”

  “I’m serious, Kal. I think she’s from before Ragnarök.”

  “Like Athena the Goddess Killer?” I gave him an easy smile. “Those are just bullshit stories.”

  “You really need to read more.”

  “And you need to live a little.” I nudged him aside with my shin and knocked loudly on the wooden door of the cottage. The thuds reverberated through the tiny interior. A candle light flickered in the back of the building.

  Some of the nearby cottages stirred with signs of life, too. Not my intention.

  “You’ll wake the whole neighborhood,” Argos said, his voice a hissing whisper. “You want an army of witches chasing you?”

  “As long as she’s being chased with me.”

  “You’re like a little boy.”

  “I can still give you back to Odysseus. Charon said he’s lonely down in the Underworld.”

  Argos growled, and the m
atter was settled. As the door opened, I put on my best smile. The candle’s orange glow lit up the Isabella’s perfect skin, making her golden hair seem like someone had just extracted it from the purest mines in the land.

  Even my thoughts turned to sentimental mush around this woman.

  I considered taking a step forward, but I wasn’t sure whether my knees would buckle. A little voice in the back of my head told me that, just maybe, I was drunk on forces outside my control. But reason was overridden by pure desire.

  “May I come in?” I said. Her eyes stared intently back at me from the dark. “It’s important.”

  “Is it, Kalos?”

  I coughed and rubbed the grass with my boot, unable to answer for a moment. “To me.”

  “Does Filippa know you are calling on me?”

  “I suspect she knows. Argos here tells me that she’s pretty powerful.”

  “Is that so?” Isabella stepped forward, into the wooden doorframe. Her hips were positioned provocatively at just the right angle. For a village girl from the frozen wilds, she had certainly picked up a seductress’ tricks with rapid ease. I doubted that had been part of Filippa’s studies.

  I resisted rushing forward and kissing her. Thus far, the past year had been a series of near-miss encounters and heroic self-restraint. But now, with the essence clouding my brain, I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “You’re gonna get us all killed, jackass,” Argos said in a breathy whine. His black and white head whirled around the row of cottages, looking for signs of our imminent demise. But my own eyes focused solely on the woman before me.

  Every time she spoke in that grit-tinged velvety voice, I felt like I was listening to the best song in the world.

  “The dog is a little bit cowardly,” I said, flashing my teeth in an easy smile. “Don’t mind him.”

  He growled, but said nothing. Isabella raised an eyebrow. “She told you to go?”

  “Tonight. Or else there will be consequences.”

  “Worse than last time?”

  I grinned. “I wouldn’t say these are consequences. After all, if loving a beautiful woman is a punishment, then I’m willing to find out what happens this time.”

  I brought out my hand.

  Argos groaned and hacked at my feet. When I glanced down, he pretended that he was eating grass. But I knew better. My declarations of love might not have been poetic, but they felt true.

  “And what is it you can offer me, Kalos?” Isabella didn’t take my hand.

  I hadn’t thought about it. Instead, I had simply assumed she felt the same way. “I—I’m not entirely sure.”

  She took hold of my fingers. “I appreciate your candor.”

  I smiled.

  And then a bolt of electricity toppled me backward, down to the ground. “Consequences, demon,” Filippa’s voice boomed, seemingly everywhere at once, “I warned you of them, did I not?”

  Trying to rise, I was felled by another burst of electricity. Isabella shrieked, begging for the assault to stop. But it didn’t, until the world started to disappear.

  “Kill him. Finish the job,” Filippa instructed.

  “I cannot. He saved me.”

  “He is a demon. A demon will tell you everything you need to hear, and then betray your deepest trusts.”

  “Kalos will not do that.”

  “He will,” Filippa yelled, lightning bolts wracking the sky. “It is his nature.”

  “Don’t give in,” I said, struggling to talk. Right before everything went dark, I shouted into the ether, “I promise I will never kill you, Isabella Kronos. No matter who demands it.”

  I didn’t hear her reply before the void swallowed me entirely.

  5

  “This might be it, old friend,” I said, rubbing my arms for warmth.

  Argos groaned and dropped the final branch on our pitiful fire. I shivered in the cave as the flames lapped at the wood. The frigid northern winters, bearable on our previous visit, had turned into a vicious permafrost. Fimbulwinter, the locals called it, named after the massive ice freeze that had supposedly preceded the Ragnarök.

  Outside, Vedrfolnir roared. I could hear the hawk’s massive wings beating against the sky as he tirelessly patrolled the cave’s entrance. Three days in here, with only melted snow to drink. And now, as the flames dwindled before us, even that minor luxury was about to vanish.

  I shifted the furs across my back, groaning when they pulled against where talons had raked my flesh. It had been like this for what seemed like an eternity. Filippa had not been lying. There were places far worse than the Underworld and the River Styx.

  Some of them were even located on Earth.

  Argos quaked against my leg as I stared into the fire.

  “Could be worse,” I said, my breath misting in the sub-zero air. Mid-morning light filtered in through the mouth of the cave, along with an omnipresent wind that knifed through my threadbare clothes. “Filippa could have banished us to Agonia.”

  The powerful witch had stunned us both with a shock spell, bound us, and then brought us to the North. There, she had cast a curse upon us, banishing us permanently to Scandinavia. Our demise would be swift and painful if we were to venture outside certain boundaries.

  These were the consequences for taking Isabella’s essence: dying of exposure in a barren cave, trapped inside by a vengeful, magical bird of prey.

  “I’m sick of the cold, Kal.”

  “You could always hang out with Odysseus. Heard the Underworld is balmy this kind of year.” I watched as the fire sputtered and died, the coals going lifeless and black.

  “I’d almost consider it, after a thousand years of this shit.” Argos let out a muted snarl. Yes, for a thousand years, we’d been stuck in the northern parts of Scandinavia. The climate had shifted from frosty to brutally cold somewhere in the middle. And through it all, I still I thought of Isabella Kronos every day. “Chased by this damn hawk all over the snow.”

  “Keeps the heart pumping.”

  “I could do without the excitement.”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about being here much longer,” I said, weakly rubbing feeling back into my fingertips. “I think this is where it ends.”

  “Glorious.” Argos let out a short, bitter laugh. “What is it about that girl, anyway? Was it worth it?”

  I paused, answering carefully. “It’s the essence.”

  “It’s more than that.” He scratched his ear. “You were burned and covered in soot when you came back from the village. You saved her.”

  “Just a job.”

  “Doesn’t matter now,” Argos said with a sigh.

  “Maybe Vedrfolnir likes medium-sized dogs,” I said. “It say anything about that in the mythology?”

  Argos growled, the high ceiling making him sound bigger and more menacing than reality. I managed a grin and closed my eyes. Cold seeped into the very foundation of my soul. It made sense for Filippa to banish me here. My powers would be sapped by the constant cold. There was a reason demons preferred warmer climes, like the circles of hell.

  Despite her immense skill—and age—I doubted Filippa possessed the strength to kill me with any of her offensive spells. And while she could always use my blood or hair to inflict serious damage, such attacks were usually folly upon demons. The kickback would kill most creatures, even if they managed to dispatch me in the process. Mutually assured misery.

  So the North was where I would stay. Until her little protégé Isabella became powerful enough to deal with me on a more permanent basis. Then again, that wasn’t looking necessary.

  The massive hawk unleashed another fearsome cry. I stared wistfully at the dead fire.

  “He’s persistent,” I said. “Marrack must’ve done a number during the Ragnarök.”

  “No one knows what happened,” Argos said
. “Perhaps it’s better that way.”

  “Didn’t read that in any of your books?”

  “There was no writing in the days of old.”

  “What a pity,” I said. “What would you have done?”

  “I shudder to consider such a barbaric existence.” There was a long pause. “You can’t use your magic to save us?”

  “I was gonna ask you the same thing, bud.”

  “My powers are more cerebral,” he said, his ears flicking with embarrassment.

  “I know,” I said, giving Argos a pat. “I know. You’ve done good.”

  His tail wagged, and he barked.

  Outside, the hawk screeched loud enough for me to have to shield my ears. Wincing, I got up to see what the commotion was about. Temporarily forgetting his own fear, Argos followed. We reached the mouth of the cave, the sun beating down on the slivers of visible frozen landscape.

  With a deep breath, I poked my head out.

  The land was tranquil, snow flakes drifting down from the sky.

  I peered into the wilds, trying to locate Vedrfolnir. There was no sign of the vengeful hawk who had dogged me for a thousand years. A strange sense of foreboding filled my stomach.

  Then I heard the voice.

  “Run,” Isabella cried. “He will awaken soon.”

  I watched a stream of blonde hair rush by the cave’s entrance. A slender hand took mine, not stopping, and dragged me forward, into the light of day.

  Stumbling into the snow, Argos and I followed, the chilly mountain air singing my lungs as we sprinted for miles. Isabella whispered incantations as we ran. A glance over my shoulder indicated that our tracks were being swept away, along with our scent and presence.

  Finally, after many miles, I could continue no further. I collapsed on my knees in a copse of resilient pine trees. A gentle hand patted my back and I glanced back with great effort.

  “But how,” I said.

  “I came to find you,” Isabella said simply. “Just as you found me.”