by Ken Altabef
ALAANA’S WAY
BOOK FIVE:
THE SHADOW OF EVERYTHING EXISTING
ALSO BY KEN ALTABEF:
ALAANA’S WAY
Book One: The Calling
Book Two: Secrets
Book Three: Shadows
Book Four: The Tundra Shall Burn!
Book Five: The Shadow of Everything Existing
FORTUNE’S FANTASY: 13 excursions into the unknown
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ken Altabef is a medical doctor who lives on Long Island. As a SFWA member, his stories frequently appear in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and have been published in Interzone, BuzzyMag, Abyss & Apex, Daily Science Fiction and others. His first short story collection “Fortune’s Fantasy” is also published by Cat’s Cradle press.
Please visit the author’s website
www.KenAltabef.com
THE SHADOW OF EVERYTHING EXISTING
Ken Altabef
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 Ken Altabef
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
ISBN: 1502962861
ISBN-13: 978-1502962867
CHARACTER LIST:
Author’s note: One of the things readers comment about most regarding this series are the character names. Some readers appreciate that they are (mostly) authentic Inuit names. Other readers lament they have a hard time keeping track of the characters. In hopes of making it a bit easier, I’ve added this list.
Author’s other helpful note: There is a glossary of Inuit terms at the end of the book.
THE FAMILY:
Kigiuna………..Alaana’s father
Amauraq……..Alaana’s mother
Maguan……….Alaana’s eldest brother,
now headman of the Anatatook
Pilarqaq……….Maguan’s bride
Itoriksak……….Alaana’s second brother
Agruta………….Itoriksak’s wife
Avalaaqiaq……Alaana’s sister, deceased
Ben Thompson……Alaana’s husband
Noona………………..Alaana’s daughter
Kinak………………….Alaana’s son
Yipyip…………………Alaana’s little dog
FRIENDS:
Mikisork………Alaana’s friend, also called Miki
Iggianguaq…..Alaana’s friend, also called Iggy,
also called Big Mountain
Tookymingia….Iggy’s wife, also called Tooky
Tamuanuaq…..Tooky’s daughter,
also called Tama
Aquppak………..Alaana’s childhood friend
Ivalu……………...Aquppak’s wife
Manik……………Aquppak’s son
Choobuk…………..Aquppak’s son
Sir Walter Gekko…..British spy
Qo’tirgin………….shaman of the M’gipsu
THE ANATATOOK:
Old Manatook… shaman with polar bear
guardian, deceased
Old Higilak ………Old Manatook’s wife, also
the storyteller
Civiliaq…shaman with raven guardian, deceased
Kuanak….shaman with wolf guardian, deceased
also called Wolf Head
Kaokortok…goofy Anatatook shaman, deceased
NOT FRIENDS
Klah Kritlaq……a rival shaman, deceased
Klah Kritlaq….old Anatatook sorcerer, deceased
Niak……………..Aquppak’s friend
Guolna………...headman of the Yupikut
Khahoutek……shaman of the Yupikut
THE TUNRIT:
Vithrok…..…the leader, turned sorcerer
Tugto………shaman with mammoth guardian
Oogloon……..shaman with snow sight
Tulunigraq….birdlike shaman
SPIRITUAL CHARACTERS:
Tikiqaq………..Alaana’s tupilaq
Nunavik……….the golden walrus
Weyahok……..little soapstone spirit
Balikqi…………polar bear shaman, deceased
Orfik…………..young polar bear shaman
Oktolik……….young polar bear shaman
Uuna………….one of the lake children
Siqi…………….one of the lake children
Ikik……………..large lake child
Sila……………..great wind spirit
Tatqeq………..the Moon Maid
Tingook…………..the Dark side of the Moon
Tekkeitsertok….guardian spirit of caribou
Tornarsssuk……guardian spirit of polar bears
Tulukkugraq……great raven spirit
Sedna……………..the Sea Mother
Kktakaluk……….Sedna’s mate, a sea scorpion
Usinuagaaluk……...the Whale-Man
Qityabnaqtuq………the golden starfish
Strixulula……………the owl-king
CHAPTER 1
THE COUNCIL OF SHAMANS
Alaana couldn’t help feeling excited. Such a momentous gathering of shamans had never been conceived, much less ever held before. She would probably have enjoyed being the center of attention if only the situation hadn’t been so dreadful.
“But why?”
This question was posited by Kaiutinuaq, a legendary Chukchee shaman, whose name meant ‘Ghost of a Dead Man.’ While he had been alive, the name had frightened his enemies but now it had merely taken on a certain accuracy; Kaiutinuaq had been dead for a hundred years.
Nonetheless, the spirit-man of the Chukchee shaman presented an imposing figure as he sat before the council fire. His scraggly hair was white as fresh snow, grown well past the shoulder and in such wild disarray it fanned out about his head as if it were a fur hood. An assortment of ivory earrings hung from both earlobes and his nose was pierced through the middle with a matched pair of white bear claws. He had been a very large man in life — as tall as Old Manatook and much thicker in the middle — and had been born without a left arm, having only what appeared to be a lifeless seal flipper hanging from his shoulder.
“Why?” he asked again. Even his voice was impressive, a low growl that commanded everyone’s attention. “If we are to defeat this sorcerer, that is the thing we most need to know.”
Old Manatook’s ghost leaned forward. In death he appeared in his true form of a large male polar bear. On his left-hand side sat the spirits of two more white bears — Orfik and Oktolik — the twin shamans of the Ice Mountain. “What could anyone possibly expect to gain by killing off the Moon?” he asked.
Silence rang out within the white room. Not one of the many shamans there assembled, either living or dead, had an answer.
“Are we sure?” asked Qo’tirgin, shaman of the M’gipsu people. “Are we certain it was the Tunrit sorcerer killed the Moon?”
“We all saw it,” said Old Manatook. He waved an arm across the circle, indicating the spirit-men of the many shamans who had so recently rained down from their celestial resting places. The ghosts of two other Anatatook shamans, Wolf Head and Civiliaq, sat to his right-hand side.
Across from him was Kaokortok, the Tungus shaman who had taught Nunavik how to hide his spirit inside his left tusk. Despite that one trick, Kaokortok was widely believed to be an idiot. His behavior at this meeting did not dispel that notion as he could hardly keep himself from grinning foolishly the entire time. The meeting was being held wit
hin Nunavik’s left tusk, kept secret from all other spirits, especially sorcerous ones, by the sigils Kaokortok had carved on the tusk years ago. Aside from pointing out that fact numerous times, he had little to add to the debate.
A handful of other ghostly figures represented the dead, and these appeared in various degrees of gauzy illumination, many as faint and insubstantial as they were ancient. None of the recently deceased shamans were present. Their spirits had not joined the others in the sky. They had been devoured by Vithrok.
“We all saw it,” said Wolf Head in his usual gruff manner. “They were two gigantic figures grappling on the surface of the Moon. The Tunrit was wearing a strange luminous armor that shimmered with every color in the rainbow. He beat the Moon Man to his knees and killed him there. The Moon went dark. We all saw it.”
“But the important question is why,” insisted Kaiutinuaq.
“Perhaps for spite,” suggested Nunavik.
“I don’t think so,” said Kaiutinuaq. “This is the work of no ordinary malicious spirit. If our adversary truly is Vithrok, as Alaana has said, then we already know something about him.”
“Vithrok was a great hero among the Tunrit,” said Nattillik, the ghost of an ancient Tungus shaman. His spirit outline was so faint he could just barely be seen, for he had died hundreds of years ago. His voice was a distant whisper; he spoke slowly, and with great effort. “I kept all the stories of the Tunrit, all that had been passed down and kept in the memories of old men and old women. Vithrok was called the Truth, for he rallied the Tunrit, the first men in Nunatsiaq after the destruction of paradise. He inspired them to persevere. It was Vithrok, it is said, who arranged the Old Agreement with Tekkeitsertok so that we could have the turgat’s blessing for our hunts.”
“It was Vithrok who killed Tekkeitsertok,” said Alaana.
A startled gasp erupted from many of the figures present. “Perhaps you didn’t see it from your perch in the sky,” she continued, “But Qo’tirgin and I travelled to the Lowerworld, we saw the whole thing. Vithrok made himself as tall as a mountain and wrestled with Tekkeitsertok. He snapped the great turgat’s neck.”
“Impossible,” said Civiliaq.
“As impossible as murdering the Moon,” said Wolf Head.
“Vithrok is more than just the ghost of a Tunrit,” said Alaana. “He is a sorcerer. He bends the souls of others to his will.”
“But these are the great spirits…”
“There are other turgats missing,” added Nunavik, the golden walrus. “Akka-ah, the lord of the brown bears, Tifimaqpak, the guardian spirit of the eagle, Ukpiq, the guardian of the brown owl, and those of the lemming, the hare, the snow starling and the wolverine.”
“And the snowy owl as well,” said Alaana. “And the shamans. He’s been killing the shamans all along the tundra. Over the past ten years…” She didn’t bother to finish the sentence as they all knew how few shamans remained alive. Aside from Alaana, Qo’tirgin and the twin bears, there were only three other living souls at the meeting. These shamans projected their spirit-men from locations far to the south, at the limits of the sorcerer’s deadly reach.
“Just recently he destroyed Khahoutek…” said Orfik.
“…the shaman of the Yupikut raiders,” added Oktolik.
“Good riddance,” said Qo’tirgin. “That crazy devil. He’s no loss to us.”
“But why?” insisted Kaiutinuaq. “That is what we must know.”
Alaana offered this, “Before he killed it, Vithrok promised Tekkeitsertok the world would be reborn.”
Kaiutinuaq said, “So he does have a plan. These are not just random acts of destruction. What else did he say?”
“He said if Tekkeitsertok should surrender to him, it would sleep in an ocean of pure Beforetime, a return to where it had originally been. That was all.”
“That’s not enough,” said Old Manatook. “The Tunrit may simply be insane.”
“It tells us something important,” counseled Kaiutinuaq. “There’s an old Chukchee belief that the angakua, the special light that makes us what we are, is in each of us a portion of the energy from that long-ago time, the Beforetime. And it stands to reason the turgats must possess such energies in even greater proportion. Vithrok takes this from us, and he keeps it. And why should he hoard such power unless he plans to use it?”
“Perhaps he seeks to destroy all the men of the world,” said Qo’tirgin. “Think about it. He kills Tekkeitsertok and we must fend for ourselves to get food. He kills the Moon and we can no longer see in darkness. He takes away the shamans and we are left defenseless against ghosts and demons.”
“I think it’s something more,” said Alaana. “It’s not just men he’s after, though we’ll die just the same.”
“The Beforetime,” whispered voice of ancient Nattillik, “is the essence of change. In the beginning everything was possible, and may be so again. Maybe Vithrok plans to use this energy to change the world, to reshape it to suit his own ideas.”
The other shamans had all fallen silent in order to hear what Nattillik had to say. When he was done, the silence lingered. Shamans are nothing if not people of great intuition, and every single one among them felt that Nattillik spoke the truth.
“But how can he hope to use it?” asked Alaana.
“And what twisted vision…” said Orfik.
“…would he shape?” added Oktolik.
“And where is it kept?” asked Nunavik.
“Good questions all,” said Old Manatook. “And things only Vithrok knows. Our way seems clear. We must find him. We must find him quickly.”
“We’ve been searching for twelve winters now,” said Nunavik. “We two,” he nodded his broad flat head at Alaana, “we’ve looked everywhere.”
“Surely not everywhere,” said Old Manatook, “or you must have found the sorcerer by now.”
Nunavik groaned. “Thirty years dawdling in the sky haven’t changed your friendly disposition very much, have they?”
Alaana interjected, raising her voice. “Our chances are much better now. We were only two before, but now we are many.”
“We are old,” whispered Nalliitik. “Our voices fade, the turgats are concerned with us no longer. We can be of little help to you.”
“You lend us help in spirit,” said Alaana, “and that’s what matters most.”
“Some of us are still strong,” said Old Manatook. “We can’t aid your fight in the physical world, but we can be useful at least for this. We will help in the search.”
“I’ll go to the Upperworld,” volunteered Wolf Head. “My spirit guide Quammaixiqsuq, the Lord of Lightning, resides there. Perhaps he will lend his strength to our cause.”
“Take Civiliaq with you,” suggested Old Manatook. None of the Anatatook shamans had forgotten Civiliaq’s disgrace. Years ago he had attempted to steal Alaana’s angakua and use it for himself. Alaana had given him a second chance but he had not yet proven himself. “He has contacts in the Upperworld as well.”
“My wings are clipped,” said Civiliaq. He appeared in spirit much the same as he had in life, clean-shaven and handsome, with short black hair. Bare to the waist, his upper body was covered in complicated spiritual tattoos. Civiliaq turned around to show them his muscular back, and the stumps of raven wings that had been torn from his shoulders. “My guardian, Kuttukuraq the Raven, has abandoned me. I can expect no help from him. I couldn’t even ascend to the Upperworld…”
“Don’t worry,” said Wolf Head. “I will carry you, brother.”
“Keep an eye on me, you mean,” grumbled Civiliaq.
Qo’tirgin interrupted their squabble with, “My guardian Ukpiq, the great brown owl, is lost to me as well. But I am made of good, strong flesh and blood. I have a fast sled and good dogs. I will scour the frosted plains for anything or anyone that may help us.” He nodded his head, and bid the others farewell. His spirit flew up through the ceiling of the white room, taking the spirit-flame of the fireplace with him.
>
“We keep the Heart,” said Oktolik. “So far it has shown no sign of the sorcerer, but we will look upon it yet again…”
“…for everything may be seen in its icy depths,” concluded Orfik, “when the time is right.” The spirit lights of the two polar bears winked out as they returned to their Ice Mountain far to the north.
“I will visit my master Tornarssuk in his crystal palace deep within the earth,” said Old Manatook. “Tornarssuk is powerful among the spirits, and wise. He offers assistance to those in need when it suits him to do so. If I can get a promise of his help for our cause, we may yet prevail.”
“And what about you, Alaana?” asked Kaiutinuaq.
“There is no place I haven’t already searched,” she said with infinite weariness. “But I will try again. I’ll go to the shadow world. I have friends there who keep watch for me. Maybe they have news.”
She exchanged a glance with Old Manatook and the pair vanished from the walrus tusk.
Nunavik was left alone with the collection of old and faded shaman spirits. He glanced around the white room within his tusk, at the home he had crafted here and lived in for centuries. Over time, his mind had shaped the ivory in ways that best suited the comforts of an old walrus. There were shelves of ice and a shallow pool of water in the center. The shamans sat quietly around one such shelf. As they were spirits only they required no food or other comforts. How long he could count on them to sit idle, he didn’t know. Nunavik glanced around at his meager possessions, all carved out of bits of ivory from the hollowed-out tusk.
Just what I need, he thought. Houseguests.
CHAPTER 2
THE THING THAT WAS CAST OUT
The Thing had been screaming for centuries. Hurtling through empty space, it knew only bitter cold and emptiness. The far-away stars, unreachable and silent, tracked its progress with their pitiless stare as the world and all it had known grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
