Harsh Magic in a Frozen Land

Harsh Magic in a Frozen Land

By

Doug Lewars

Published by Doug Lewars at Smashwords

Copyright: 2016 by Doug Lewars – All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, events, incidents and organizations in this book are the work of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental and is not intended by the author.

This book is dedicated to Angela but I won’t mention her last name because she hates to be singled out.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - Refuge

Chapter 2 - Mid-world Politics

Chapter 3 - First-World Politics

Chapter 4 - Vested Interests

Chapter 5 - An Accusation

Chapter 6 - A Not So Secret Agent

Chapter 7 - Like Moves on a Chessboard

Chapter 8 - Departure

Chapter 9 - If At First

Chapter 10 - In the Arctic

Chapter 11- Pond Inlet

Chapter 12 - Pursuit

Chapter 13 - Undercover Work

Chapter 14 - A Decision

Chapter 15 - Confrontation

Chapter 16 - Tides of Battle

Chapter 17 - A New Combatant

Chapter 18 - End of the Battle

Chapter 19 - Time for a Cover-Up

Chapter 20 - Homeward Bound

About the Author

Other Titles by This Author

Connect With the Author

Chapter 1 - Refuge

It was almost noon and the sun was barely a pale smudge on the horizon. So it was - mid-winter in the Land of the Midnight Sun. It was a season of darkness. From the east a fierce wind howled across the tundra, impeded only by rocks and hills. There were no trees to slow its passage for the treeline was many hundreds of miles to the south. The temperature was around minus forty-eight.

Five miles to the south-east, the existence of a small Inuit village proved that humans are sufficiently hardy to survive in even the most hostile of climates. The men of that village were hunters – seal mostly – but they wouldn’t turn their noses up at either a caribou or a musk-ox. They lived much as their fathers and grandfathers had lived by taking their living from the land and letting the white men go hang themselves in the south; but they did not hesitate to use sharp steel skinning knives nor did they refrain from hunting with high-powered rifles. Still, they lived in the cold and they avoided the more populous settlements except when extra supplies were necessary.

On that particular day, with the temperature so low, the villagers stayed warm in igloos made from blocks of snow. Hunting had been good so there was no pressing need to venture out into the strong wind and bitter cold. It was a day when a man could relax and enjoy his wife and children without the ever-pressing need to focus on survival.

Five miles back to the north-west was a small cave in the side of a hill. In that cave the Nac Belaskan, Terrob Salermy sat and brooded. For some months following the fall of Roth Ura he had sat alone carefully considering why his plans, so carefully thought out and so well executed had come to nothing. Certainly a major problem was the unexpected alliance between the dwarves and the elves. At no time had he considered the possibility that the two might work together. He knew they traded from time to time, but that was sporadic and always fraught with tension. That they might actually cooperate in a battle seemed so unlikely that the possibility had never once crossed his mind – yet cooperate they did and succeeded in defeating him in the process. If it could happen once it could happen again. He would have to take it into account in future and make sure it didn’t.

Then there was the human factor. John Dent had betrayed him. That was no surprise except that his betrayal was so utterly inept that he’d inadvertently brought down the forces of first-world law-and-order upon Roth Ura at a time that Terrob had been busy with other things. In addition there were the two children. Where had they come from and what’s more, why? Their involvement could not be explained; however, presumably they would have met a transitioner and moved on. He could discount them even though, he reflected, the girl might have made a decent first-world magician had she been alive.

Somehow the children reminded him of the fairy. That was another puzzle. Of course he realized the fairy had been operating under a geas, but why had the elves chosen to make use of one to begin with? One might expect to obtain a better executed plan from a fruit-fly and the fruit-fly would likely be more cooperative.

Lastly there was the tarl. He had brought that one on himself by dragging the thing home with plans to assimilate its power only to have the affair backfire. He reflected that there wasn’t any one thing that had defeated him, but having all the opposing factors come together at one time had been more than he could handle.

Very well. He would begin again, but this time he would move slower and consolidate each gain before moving on to the next. It would probably take longer but Terrob had lived for centuries and might be expected to live for centuries – or even millennia – provided he didn’t run into a more powerful Nac Belaskan. As a species they weren’t particularly sociable. In fact it was for that reason that Terrob had chosen to head north after his defeat. South might have been preferable, but it was impossible to tell where other Nac Belaskans had established themselves and he didn’t want to run into one by accident – particularly when his own power was almost depleted. The North was large, and, he assumed, almost empty. He was therefore surprised to find it populated by any number of first and second-world life forms. Admittedly there weren’t many humans but he didn’t care about that. Not far from where he was living were a pair of Ice Trolls. Ice Demons were common as were Ijiraat. Of course they didn’t pose any threat to him but prior to his arrival he hadn’t realized they even existed. On the first-world side there were large numbers of fish, seals, whales, caribou, musk-oxen and bears. They carried on their lives without the slightest concern for the existence of the Mid-world, and if they did sense it, they weren’t much interested.

Although the Arctic Mid-world might have nothing to offer the first-world, the reverse was not true. When a large polar bear made the mistake of passing too close to Terrob’s cave, its life-force blazing like a bonfire, Terrob seized the opportunity and consumed the raw power. That ended the life of the bear, but it provided Terrob with much needed energy.

Continuing his thoughts about the debacle in the South, he wondered if perhaps a Guardian had been involved. During the fight he’d detected a slight energy trace that might have come from a Guardian. Of course, by that time so much energy was being expended in all directions it would have been surprising had a Guardian not noticed and deigned to take a look. Still, it didn’t seem like Guardian work. He had spread himself too thin, had experienced some bad luck and the two combined to create the problem. Slowly, steadily, patiently – those were the keys to achieving great Mid-world power and Terrob was nothing if not determined. A blast of freezing air came swirling snow devils around the mouth of the cave as if to confirm his resolution.

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Carefully maneuvering the bone needle, Sayyna Etukaluk drew the thin strip of sinew through the soft caribou leather in order to attach it to the seal skin. She was proud of her work and was determined to make for her father, the finest pair of boots her community had ever seen. Of course she had steel needles as well. They had been purchased by her mother on some long-ago trip to a southern trading post, such as Gjoa Haven – but for some work she preferred the bone. Working the seal into the caribou created a pattern of light and dark that was quite attractive.

With a breeze of cool air her father brushed aside the flap over the door and entered the igloo. Even though it was bitterly cold outside, it was pleasantly warm inside and Sayyna wore only her shirt and pants not needing the warm parka that hung on a hook by the door. Anuk too, removed his heavy outdoor clothing and relaxed on a bench near the far wall.

How is Tagak? she asked without raising her eyes from her work.

Not well. He has difficulty swallowing and loses most of his food. I’m afraid that before the winter ends he will leave us.

She nodded. Her father was shaman and had the most knowledge of medicine in the community. Were Tagak moved to a southern hospital he might survive, but contacting someone in the south was impossible. Theirs was a hunting community – nomadic in the summer – less so in the winter – but they followed the old ways to a large extent. There was no phone or radio in the village nor was there any way to power one had it been present. Her father would do his best for old Tagak, but when it was time for the man to join his ancestors, he would do so without the interference of southern doctors. Neither Anuk nor Sayyna scorned southerners, but they had no intention of moving to one of the small communities that were growing steadily larger in Nunavut. Theirs was a community that liked the freedom to move as they wished and, if they paid a price for that freedom, then it was paid without resentment.

While you were out, Kirima brought over some Igunaq, she commented while carefully pulling another sinew through the leather. She had to be careful. It had been softened to such an extent that if she pulled too hard it would break.

Anuk’s eyes lit up. Great! he replied smiling, My favorite!

Igunaq was not to everyone’s liking although it was widely appreciated in the village. It consisted of huge steaks, frequently of walrus that had been allowed to decompose and ferment in the autumn and then frozen. People in the south turned their noses up at it and some said it was an invitation to death by food poisoning, but in Sayyna’s village it was a delicacy and widely appreciated. Of course there was some truth to people’s concerns. It did have to be handled carefully, and any mistake might result in the people becoming sick with botulism; but Kirima was both careful and competent with its preparation. Dinner would be both safe and delicious.

The old man sat back comfortably and closed his eyes. He wasn’t actually old – not by most standards – but compared to fifteen-year-old Sayyna, he was ancient. Unlike the very old, he had few lines although his face was coarsened by the wind and having to squint against the snow. He had a mustache, a small rather scraggly beard and his hair was cut unevenly just above his collar. Both eyes and hair were dark and even though, in Sayyna’s opinion, he was old, she did think of her father as handsome in his own way – not, or course, like Yutu – but handsome still. Like Sayyna, Yutu was fifteen and the two naturally gravitated together – not that there was any large amount of selection among the youth of the camp. Sayyna was rapidly reaching the age at which a husband was desirable and her choices were Yutu, and three men only slightly younger than her father. It was not a difficult choice.

The village where they lived might better be considered a camp. It consisted of approximately ten families and a total of thirty-eight people. In the summer they followed the game wherever it went and they lived in animal skin tents. Sometimes, if it seemed likely they were going to stay in one place for a while, they build shelters of sod or stone; but, mostly, they constructed tents. If game became scarce they might travel in winter, but a sudden storm could be dangerous, and if they had a choice, they wintered in one spot.

The government did not approve of their lifestyle. Many of the Inuit had been rounded up and settled in one of the larger communities to the south. Some thrived in their new environment. Many did not. Anuk was one who did not and who departed along with some others to resume a nomadic lifestyle sufficiently far from the government social workers that they might live as their ancestors did. It was true, they had guns and would travel south from time to time to trade for ammunition and other supplies, but by and large, they kept to themselves and maintained their independence. It was likely they contravened any number of laws, regulations and standards in the process.

Look, she said, I’ve just about finished the boots for you.

He opened his eyes and looked over her work.

Magnificent! he replied, They are the finest boots I have ever seen. Even your late mother could not have made so fine a pair. She would be very proud of you were she here today.

Sayyna blushed at the complement. Although she had few memories of her mother since the woman died when Sayyna was less than two years old, she had heard stories of her from Anuk and others. One thing that everyone agreed on was that Hiti had amazing skills in making clothing.

Will you be going to the Kashim tonight? she asked. The Kashim was a special place where shamans went to perform healing magic. Technically it was supposed to be hidden, sometimes buried in the earth so that only the shaman knew where it was; however, Anuk saw no point in secrecy. His Kashim was a snow house like any other, differentiated only by the fact that it was set a little apart from the rest of the community.

Yes, I suppose I will. He didn’t sound overly enthusiastic. Anuk was convinced that Tagak was on his way to the spirit world no matter what was done – and going out into the cold to perform a ceremony that no-one would see was a waste of time. Still, he was the shaman and this was his job so he figured he’d better do it.

Sayyna put the work down. I’ll start getting supper then, she said.

It wasn’t long before the meal was prepared and both father and daughter well fed. By southern standards the meal was too high in fat and posed a risk to the cardio-vascular system; but survival in a northern climate required such a meal. Anuk was warmed not only by the layers of clothing he wore as he went out into the storm but by the food in his belly. One seldom encountered an obese Inuit – at least not one living far from the built-up communities where central heating could substitute for a high-fat diet.

The sun had long since set into the horizon when Anuk emerged from the igloo and made his way past the others that made up the village. It was clear and cold and although there was no moon that night, the northern lights were flicking an eerie shade of green in the sky. There was a time that Anuk had believed that hidden within their flickering glow were spirits dancing in the sky on the frosty air, but he had come to understand they were just a magnetic response to solar activity and they held little interest for him.

Traditionally, the Inuit were animists. They believed that there was a spirit in every living thing and even in things that were not alive like hills and the Earth itself. If ever Anuk had been in communion with a spirit he had long forgotten it. He performed the ceremonies and engaged in such rituals as he must to keep the faith of the people strong and their spirits high, but he did not believe. His father before him had been a shaman and it was he who taught his son what must be done, and if he needed a vision to satisfy the old man, he quickly learned to invent one. For Anuk, it was all a sham. His knowledge of medicine extended to basic first aid. Of course he mixed a few potions that he had learned from his father, but he had no confidence in their efficacy. He hoped only that belief in their powers might bring a little relief for the afflicted. The only thing he was sure of was that following a shaman – even one with no powers – was better than staying in the southern boxed-in communities. Yes, there were doctors to tend the sick who came with impressive sounding degrees from universities far away. Yes the people had proper houses to live in – nice clothes and over-priced food on the table. Most had televisions, and other modern luxuries – but if televisions, luxuries and modern conveniences were the answer, then why did so many young people turn to drugs or take their own lives? The life lived by Anuk’s people was hard and they had few luxuries, but none of the children found it necessary to breath gasoline fumes and there was a spirit in the community that seemed to have died in the south.

He entered the Kashim and sat down making no attempt to enter even a mild trance from which the spirits might offer assistance and suggestions as to what might be done for poor old Tagak. There was nothing to be done. The disease, probably cancer in Anuk’s opinion, would run its course and that would be the end. All the fasting, dancing, banging drums, shaking rattles, wearing masks, and entering into trance would accomplish nothing. Anuk did know of a few potions that might reduce the man’s pain, but generally aspirin were just as good and easier to administer. Soon there would be one less member of the village, but, on the other side of the coin, both Jane and Rynee were pregnant so there would be two new villagers to take Tagak’s place come spring.

To the children, Anuk told the stories of the spirits – old Sedna living under the waters of the ocean along with her dog. From her came the marine creatures that frequently fed the tribe although it was not necessarily wise, in Anuk’s opinion, to look too closely at the relationship between her and that dog. He told of the sky dwellers who may be seen dancing in the Aurora Borealis and who assist the spirits of the dead in making their crossing to the world of the spirits. He told the story of Sun Sister and Moon Brother editing it somewhat for the benefit of young ears – but while he told the stories, led the dances, and performed the correct ceremonies to maintain balance between the world of humans and the world beyond he believed none of it. For Anuk, it was merely posturing – a kind of psychological aerobics designed to keep the members of his tribe content in the thought that all mystical dangers were controlled and mitigated by the power of the Shaman. In truth he was nothing but a fake.

The sound of snow crunching warned him that someone approached. Among some shamans, a villager entering the Kashim was equivalent to sacrilege, but Anuk used this place the way doctors might use their office or examining room. He welcomed those who had an ailment or who needed counseling to meet with him there. It was convenient and private, and if the trappings of drums, masks, carvings and other paraphernalia helped create the illusion of spirituality then so much the better. Sitting back he closed his eyes and began to move his lips as if he were deeply in trance. He heard the sound of someone entering but made no move to open his eyes or greet them. Waiting was a part of the performance.

Finally, having judged that sufficient time had passed to impress upon his visitor, he opened his eyes and regarded his guest. Across from him, Yoskolo Morrijuk sat in silence, respectfully waiting the shaman’s attention. Like most men in the village, his face was weathered even though he wasn’t particularly old. His skin was brown, his hair was dark and cut around the collar line and he was well muscled from the rugged life they were forced to live. He was a little taller and somewhat heavier than average and that gave him additional strength. Anuk had seen him not even bother to harness the dogs in order to move a sled laden with probably three hundred or more pounds of meat. This was the first time he had come for help and the shaman instinctively felt certain that any problem that Yoskolo might have was unlikely to be something that was easy to solve.

For some time they sat in silence and then Anuk spoke. The spirits dance with joy in the lights tonight. For them, this weather is a cause for celebration. For those of us who hunt for a living we may run into difficulties in the days ahead.

It sounded profound but was, in fact, an obvious truth. Few were the days when hunters did not encounter difficulties; nevertheless, Yoskolo nodded and seemed to think that he was hearing words of wisdom. At last he got to his business.

These days, the cold is hard.

Anuk nodded. It was a bit colder than normal but it would likely rise into the minus thirties within a couple of days and, if the wind dropped, the world would be almost habitable. Still he knew that Yoskolo needed some means of getting started.

The nights are long.

That was another obvious statement. Whatever was bothering Yoskolo must be more than a little disconcerting for the hunter. Perhaps, thought Anuk, the man needed to talk about some weakness. For a man like Yoskolo, weakness was a form of sin – although the concept of ‘sin’ was not really part of their culture.

Sometimes a man might not sleep well in all this cold and darkness.

Now he was getting to the point and Anuk knew where to direct the conversation.

Do the spirits trouble your dreams? he asked.

They do, said Yoskolo looking down. They take many forms, but they are troubling and they tell me one thing from night to night.

Anuk was interested. He knew that the southerners regarded a recurring dream as a reflection of something unresolved in the psyche of the dreamer, but the Inuit tended to believe that dreams were influenced by spirits from outside as well as the psyche within. Although Anuk had not received any communication from spirits, he was not prepared to completely write off their existence. Perhaps Yoskolo might be more attuned to their world. That was not a comforting thought for one whose occupation was shamanism.

What is it they tell you? he asked quietly.

They say that this is not a good place. They say we must flee. Even though the seals are plentiful and we have our bellies full with caribou, the dreams tell me that danger approaches and that if we want to live we must leave this place.

It was a very powerful dream and Anuk recognized it as such. It was not, however, a particularly convenient one. Yoskolo was quite correct when he stated that the seals were plentiful and there were plenty of caribou. In addition, fishing was good and the other day, before the wind picked up, Anuk had seen several fat walruses and it was likely that they might reasonably expect to take one when the hunt resumed. Moving a camp in winter was not an easy thing. While it was true that the men could build another igloo in little more than a couple of hours, the weather could turn on them and they would be travelling with two pregnant women.

He nodded, Yes, I too, have received that message but I have learned to look beyond it. The Taqriaqsuit like to slip into our dreams at night and play tricks on the unwary. They talk of danger and urge us to leave, but what they want is for us to be far away when a blizzard comes so they can snatch one or two people for their own feast. They too are hunters and we must always be vigilant lest we be the prey.

Yoskolo looked impressed at the knowledge of his shaman.

Anuk reached into his medicine bag and drew out what looked like a piece of ragged leather onto which had been sewn a sliver of bone from some animal. This, he said, is a gift from our cousin Nanuk. He is very wise in the ways of spirits and gave us this charm when it was time for him to pass on to the waters of his elders. Sleep with it near to your head. The Taqriaqsuit may still try and slip into your dreams to fool you, but you will recognize their tricks and be able to send them away so that you sleep in comfort.

Yoskolo grasped the charm with something like awe on his face. Thank you, Anuk. This will allow me to rest easy once more. He stood up. I think that someday you will be recognized as among the greatest of our people’s shamans. Slipping out of the igloo he left Anuk to reflect upon the complement.

If he, Anuk, was ranked among the greatest of the shamans then the profession as a whole was in great difficulty. Sighing he sat back and reflected on the incident. He was fairly confident that the charm would work even though it did not come from a polar bear. Anuk wasn’t even sure what animal the hide and bone came from or whether it was even the same species of animal but that didn’t matter. He had picked up some of the remnants of Sayyna’s sewing and fashioned them into charms. That they had no magical properties was irrelevant. In the hands of the villagers they would become magic as needed. Yoskolo for all his strength and ability to hunt was not a sophisticated person. He believed whole-heartedly in Anuk’s power and it was that belief rather than anything that Anuk said or did that would solve the problem.

A week of bad weather passed and then the wind dropped and the clouds departed. It was still cold but not nearly as cold as it had been; and, as the food supplies were starting to dwindle, it was time to renew the hunt. Anuk went through the proper ceremony to bring luck but he had little faith what he was doing. Instead he was confident that the walruses he had spotted some days before probably hadn’t gone far. That, more than any ceremony, was reason for optimism.

Each hunter took his own sled. Were they hunting for seal or planning to fish they would have doubled or tripled up because they wouldn’t be expecting to haul extremely heavy loads. But a walrus, if they got one, could weigh up to three thousand pounds, and while a good team of dogs could handle a thousand pounds, it was hard on them and the dogs were valuable. Two of three hundred pounds per sled would make for a nice easy trip.

It was dark when they set out but that wasn’t unusual. Only at noon and for a brief period of time did the sun manage to rise above the horizon although with every passing day a little more was revealed. In the northern sky, the lights flickered lazily. Anuk had seen far better displays but just having them present was somehow reassuring.

To the north, Terrob sat in his cave and listened to sounds that were not accessible to human ears. He detected the slow breathing of the ice trolls that lived not far from him. A flurry of snow sprites came flying by, their mindless chatter filling the air for a few moments and then they were gone. He was not interested in either the trolls or the sprites. He was interested in energy. The polar bear had provided him with a strong life force but it was not entirely optimal for a Mid-world creature. Of course consuming one of the trolls might be an option but it was always possible he might want to put them to better use so he stayed his hand. He could have fed on some of the small demons and snow sprites but the demons were intelligent enough to be cautious and there wasn’t much to a sprite. Drawing energy from the sun, the wind, the ocean and the very earth itself was possible but would take a long time. After reviewing many of these possibilities Terrob considered making use of a human. Admittedly, things had not gone well in the past but he was fairly confident that he could avoid making the same mistakes; and, he thought, it was possible that John Dent had been correct despite being a traitor. It might be useful to possess a living human rather than merely suck one dry for the energy it possessed. If it were alive, he could probably make use of it to disguise himself as he moved south and went about the business of adding to his power.

Terrob was fully aware of the small village a few miles to the south-east but he hadn’t considered making use of the inhabitants. For the most part, the first-world didn’t interest him much. He was a creature of the Mid-world and it was in the Mid-world that he wanted to establish his empire. Still, as John Dent had pointed out, there might be some value in having power in both. Until the hunters departed it was an idle thought, but when he noticed they were headed in a direction that would bring them close to his cave he became interested.

Allowing himself to relax, he expanded his consciousness so that he could sense their mood and soon he felt the power of the hunt. It was something to which he could relate because Terrob was a hunter of sorts himself. Scanning the area he detected seal, fish, plenty of Arctic birds and some walruses. It seemed the hunters were interested in the walruses. Very well then, if that was the case, Terrob would assist them in obtaining exactly what they were looking for.

Killing a walrus, even with modern rifles, is not a particularly easy thing to do. They have a keen sense of smell and excellent hearing. This group was on land but they were close to the water and could easily dive in and swim away if the slightest danger was detected. The land was flat and the hunters would be able to see the herd from a distance but the reverse was also true. Getting to within a hundred yards of the herd would be difficult. Terrob decided to make it easier. Since the creatures were already asleep, it wasn’t difficult for him to employ some of his power to gradually deepen the sleep of a large bull. With considerable subtlety, he infiltrated and eventually possessed its mind. Having accomplished that, it was an easy matter to disengage the senses so that detecting approaching danger would be impossible. If the approaching hunters couldn’t take this animal then they were pretty incompetent.

Anuk and the others were almost a mile away when they first determined that which to anyone else would be flecks of dark colour against the snow was the herd. Leaving the dogs to wait, they began a cautious advance that would get them within range. All had high-powered rifles and each rifle was loaded and ready.

It was a long and difficult stalk. There was no wind so they didn’t have to worry about placing themselves downwind but that meant, if even a slight breeze came up, it might be sufficient to give them away. The animals were sleeping nicely. That helped considerably. Time passed. The distance was cut from a mile to a thousand yards and then to five hundred. The rifles were good but three hundred yards was as far as they wanted to be from their quarry. From their present position a shot might be off the mark by as much as a foot even if the hunter had a steady arm and good eyesight. Four hundred yards and then three – they were in range but closer was better and the herd showed no signs of restlessness or being aware of them. They kept moving. They were close to the ground and tried to move in such a way that the sound of their footsteps might be mistaken for the occasional sounds that the ice made as it shifted against itself. Two hundred yards and Anuk was amazed they’d made it so close. Of course traditional hunters working with kayaks and harpoons were known to get within twenty-five feet of a herd, but that was seldom and more often than not, the hunt was unsuccessful. One hundred yards, at that range the margin of error was down to about five inches. Anuk gestured to Tagak. This man was certainly the most able hunter of the lot. Carefully he shifted his weight so that he was resting on one knee and he raised the rifle to his shoulder but before he could sight and pull the trigger something – Anuk couldn’t say what – spooked the herd. A creature as large as a walrus shouldn’t be able to move fast, but when sensing danger, they had an amazing ability to dive into the safety of the water in a heartbeat. This they did, but one, somehow was slow. Maybe it was partially deaf or just too old but it failed to move as quickly as the rest and gave Tagak time to sight and squeeze off one round. One round was enough. The animal fell to the ice, thrashed for a few seconds and then lay still. There would be plenty to eat for a long time to come.

As life departed from the beast, Terrob withdrew deeper into his cave. He had baited his trap and he knew it would be a while before he could move to the next step. The men first had to return to their dogs and drive the sleds up to the slain animal. Then a lot of work needed to be done to butcher it, cut up the pieces and pack them onto the sleds. Some of the liver was consumed raw and on the spot. It would give them plenty of warmth and strength for the ride home.

Everyone was in good spirits as they performed their work. It had been a successful hunt even though the creature had almost escaped. Of course they were a little suspicious and checked the animal carefully for signs of disease, but they found none and decided it was just not meant to go on living that day. As they worked some noticed the wind had picked up and clouds moved along the horizon, but there was nothing they could do about that so they completed butchering the walrus as quickly as possible, packed up the meat and turned the dogs in the direction of home.

It was then the storm struck. One moment they were backtracking along their original trail and the next they were travelling through a white fog barely able to see the team ahead. Fortunately they had not come many miles that day and the lead dog could probably smell his way home – so as long as each driver could keep the driver before him in view there was no real problem.

Anuk was bringing up the rear. He couldn’t keep his head down entirely because he needed to see but the stinging ice pellets were not conducive to looking at the scenery. Fortunately a warm parka kept most of it from his face and the goggles protected his eyes. There was no risk of snow blindness in such a storm. He thanked the spirits in which he didn’t believe for the gift of his daughter’s talents. She was the one who had fashioned the clothing he wore, and wind or no wind, cold or no cold, he remained warm and dry. One minute the driver in front was a grey blur and the next he was gone into a flurry of snow. When the flurry passed, no-one was in front of Anuk nor was there any indication of a trail. Somehow the impossible had happened and he was all alone in the blizzard.

The hunter and shaman was more puzzled than worried. Even if he’d lost sight of the man in front, there should have been something of a trail. He couldn’t have veered off to such a degree and in so short a time; still he could see he was alone. He tried calling but the wind snatched his voice and he quickly abandoned that effort. It was a nuisance but he wasn’t really concerned. He knew he could easily build a shelter from the snow and ride out the storm along with his dogs. For one thing there was no shortage of meat. The real question was whether to continue driving in what he thought was the direction of the village, or whether he should wait until the visibility became better. Strongly suspecting that the dogs would be able to find their way home whether he could see or not, he was about to continue when the sight of a cave in the side of a hill changed his mind. With a little snow packed up around the edge it would be a convenient shelter for him and his dogs; and, if providence had provided for his needs in such a way – who was he to ignore the boon? Turning his lead dog he made his way towards the entrance.

As he approached, the dogs stopped and began to growl. Anuk knew a warning when he heard one, but he couldn’t think what might be worrying the animals. Polar bears were not by nature cave animals. One might wander into such a cave to investigate, but it wouldn’t stay there. They much preferred the open ice or waters where seals might be found. Wolves perhaps? It was possible but they would likely show themselves when they heard the dogs. He picked up his gun and moved forward. Looking into the darkness he could see nothing so, shouldering the weapon he took a tentative step inside ready to shoot and flee in an instant.

It was ironic, that as a shaman, he had never once thought about the possibility of something supernatural lurking there, so when he saw Terrob sitting casually, with his back against the wall, wearing nothing but light pants and a shirt even though the temperature was well below minus twenty and probably well on the way to minus thirty, he was unable to either shoot or flee. All he could do was stand and stare. Admittedly there was a small fire burning but it was very small and not sufficient for sitting about in light clothing.

Come in, said Terrob, If you sit close to the fire you’ll be warm – or at least warmer than if you’re outside. You don’t need to worry about me. I don’t bite.

It was a spirit, of that Anuk was certain. Never before had he encountered a real spirit but this had to be one because a normal man would never sit casually in a cave with such a small fire and so few clothes. Tentatively he took a step forward and then remembered to lower the gun. Against a spirit what use was a gun? What do you want with me? he asked, his voice embarrassingly shaky. He tried to get himself under control. He was a shaman. He was supposed to commune with spirits on a daily basis. How could he make such a poor showing when finally confronted with one?

Ah, a man who gets right to the point. I like that in humans. Well then, why don’t you sit down and warm yourself and we can discuss it?

It wasn’t a large cave and Anuk couldn’t see himself standing there, hulking over the relaxed spirit. He lowered himself to the floor and rested his back against the side. It was solid enough. The fire too, seemed real. It wasn’t much but it provided some warmth.

He tried to think what kind of spirit this might be. It might be an Ijiraat. If that was the case it should have red eyes. The eyes of this spirit didn’t appear to be red but Anuk couldn’t really tell in the gloom.

Would you like a drink? asked Terrob extending an ice-goblet containing water. It’s only water, but serving it on ice keeps it cool and refreshing.

No thank-you, replied Anuk. He remembered that a cardinal rule of dealing with spirits was not to eat or drink anything.

It’s perfectly safe, continued Terrob. It’s just water. It’s not dangerous at all. This, he said pulling a small bag of powder from a pocket somewhere, is what’s dangerous. Carefully he poured a small quantity into the water and set the goblet between them. But, he continued, Although it is dangerous, it will also do great things for one willing to accept the risk.

What will it do? asked Anuk in spite of himself.

It will give you power over many of the spirits that dwell in the north. It will let you summon them and force them to do your bidding. With this, you can become the kind of shaman that people will remember in story and legend for generation after generation.

And the danger?

The danger is, it will bind you to me irrevocably. I will become your personal spirit. If you’ve ever heard of the term ‘familiar’ that is what we’re talking about. In turn, for doing you favors in the world of the spirits, I will ask favors from you that involve humans. Specifically I want you to take your people south and drive out the southerners who are coming more and more to the north for natural resources. They want to drain the land of its minerals and its energy but by so doing, they make a land that cannot be home to those of us who live here. They must be sent back where they came from.

It was a good speech and one Terrob thought would appeal to Anuk. It was, of course, a lie, but as long as Terrob didn’t misrepresent the drink itself then the magic would work. On one hand there was the promise of power in the spirit world. That had to be tempting to any shaman. In return, he requested the man to do something he very much wanted to do anyway. How could he refuse? What Terrob had miscalculated was a certain honesty within the Inuit man. He could not with a clear conscience accept a deal when he didn’t believe he could hold up his end of the bargain. His shoulders slumped.

I cannot, he said.

Terrob remained calm. Oh, it seems like a good arrangement for both of us.

I have no power over the southerners. They will come and keep coming as long as there are riches to be had.

And that is precisely why they must be stopped.

True, but I have no influence over them.

Then you’ll have to cultivate some.

But that is precisely what I can’t do. They make the laws. They make the deals with the government in Iqaluit. I am just a poor shaman and a hunter. They would never listen to me.

They would listen to you if you were in that government, if, in fact, you were leading it.

Anuk laughed. No-one would vote for me. No-one even knows me. I have been apart and on my own for a long time. My little village lives the old path. It is better for us, but it means I have no contacts among the men who hold the power. There is nothing I can do.

You forget that if you ally yourself with me you will have plenty of power – all that the spirit world possesses.

That would surely help me find the path I need to follow but it would do nothing in the world of the southerners. They don’t believe in spirits and they certainly wouldn’t believe in me.

You are mistaken. With my help you can show them wonders. With my help you can make prophesies that come true. With my help, first your villagers will listen and then as you travel southward other little villages will become followers. By the time you reach Iqaluit, you will have a strong following, one that no-one can overlook. When it is time to select the next leader, they will select you because to ignore you will be to ignore most of the people of this region.

Anuk looked up, Do you really think it would work?

Of course, we will start small, one village at a time. Soon word will spread and you’ll be known and accepted by people far and wide. Step by step we will prepare them and once you take power you can take the steps to drive the southerners from this land. It is both your responsibility and you destiny.

Terrob was worried that he might have laid it on a little thick but Anuk seemed to be considering it more carefully than he’d done initially. ‘Responsibility’, ‘Duty’, ‘Destiny’ – these were all concepts that were largely alien to Terrob but he’d learned them from John Dent and they seemed to have an effect.

Anuk sagged once again. It is necessary to make speeches. I could never do that.

Of course you can. I mean you couldn’t right now, but with me at your side to help you with the words you can make all the speeches that the people need. It’s not like you need to say anything that you don’t already know. You know that the southerners are poisoning your way of life. You know that an easy life is not necessarily a good life. You know that the people need to be free or die. All you need from me is the means of saying it in a manner that will reach the people’s hearts and give them the courage to stand up and follow you. It’s both your duty and your destiny to look after those who have been seduced into losing their way.

Terrob recognized the irony in the last sentence. He was busily seducing Anuk by supposedly offering him the opportunity of rescuing those around him from seduction.

Do you really think it would work?

Good, thought Terrob, the man has already made up his mind to accept. He just needs me to bolster his confidence a little.

Yes, he replied looking as sincere as he possibly could, I think it will work. Oh there will be problems. There will be setbacks, and I can’t guarantee with one-hundred percent probability that you will have complete success, but there is one thing that I can guarantee. If you don’t try, the North will fall to the greed of the southerners and both the game and the spirits will be wiped into oblivion for good.

Very well, said Anuk, I’ll do it!

Terrob smiled and handed him the goblet of ice. With one quick gulp, Anuk downed the icy cold liquid and even before it had reached his stomach, he knew Terrob had lied. But it was too late. He was caught in a trap with no way to escape – not even through death.

Anuk had walked into the cave of his own free will but he walked out as Terrob’s slave. As he emerged into the light, the dogs immediately began growling but with the slightest touch of power they cringed into silence with only a few whines. He climbed onto the back of the sleigh, cracked the whip and the team began pulling for home. So fast did they run that Anuk had to rein them in slightly so that they wouldn’t over exert themselves. Dead dogs were of no use to him. These ones were running as much out of fear of the thing behind them as any desire to pull.

When they arrived at the village, Anuk found he was only about an hour behind the rest of the hunters. Under normal circumstances the other men might have teased him about taking the scenic route or not being able to follow a fellow hunter, but on that day they sensed something about the man was different and the jests died in their throats. Carefully he unhitched his cowering dogs and walked to his own igloo.

Oh good father, you’re home, said Sayyna turning from her work. Then she froze. It was almost as if she could no longer recognize the man standing before her even though she knew his appearance was unchanged.

Why do you stare at me? asked Anuk quietly as he removed his heavy outdoor clothes and sat down.

Um, ah, no reason … just a trick of the light I guess. You looked somehow different for a moment.

Oh? In what way?

Uh, well, I really can’t say. It was almost as if you were surrounded in fog – but not actually fog, more like a dark light. That doesn’t make any sense I know. I just can’t describe it. I guess it was just my eyes.

Yes, I believe it was.

She continued to work in silence for a few minutes. Every now and then she found herself casting a sideways glance at her father. There was nothing she could put her finger on but she was certain that somehow she was being deceived; nevertheless, there was a supper to be made and there was certainly plenty of walrus so soon she was busy cooking and, as long as she kept her back to him, everything was perfectly alright.

But of course, that was the point. Everything was definitely not alright. She sensed it in the air. As the daughter of a shaman she was familiar with spirits and she began to wonder if it was really her father sitting in the igloo behind her or whether it was an Ijiraat. They were known to be shape-shifters and one might easily replace her father. Carefully she ladled out a bowl of soup and took it to Anuk. As she did, she studied the man’s eyes. If he was an Ijiraat, he was certainly unusual because all the tales told how they had red eyes but her father’s were unchanged.

Is something wrong daughter?

Ah … no … I, uh, was just thinking about something. I guess that’s why I seem a little distracted.

So, what is it the daughter of a shaman thinks about while her father is away on the hunt?

Oh, ah, nothing important, just girl thoughts.

Really? Girl thoughts. So what is it that girls think about?

Oh, you know, nothing important.

Tell me.

Well, just things like clothes and boys, you know, just routine stuff.

Clothes and stuff. I see. You are a fine seamstress and skilled in sewing. You have an attractive wardrobe so I can’t see you thinking much about clothes. Perhaps you spent longer dwelling on the thought of boys.

Oh well, she blushed and looked away trying to make a joke of it, Boys do play a part in a girls thoughts you know.

No, replied Anuk quietly, I do not know. Tell me.

Sayyna blushed furiously. Well, I am getting older now father. It won’t be long before I marry.

I see, so it is your wish to leave the dwelling of your father.

Well no, of course not, but still, I will get married someday. It’s only natural.

Perhaps, and perhaps you have eyes for the young lad, Yutu.

Once more Sayyna blushed. Well he is my age. In fact, he is the only boy in the village who is even close to being the same age as me.

You could marry Tagak.

At that Sayyna laughed out loud. Do you want me to become a widow so quickly? Tagak’s dying. Besides he’s old.

It might be easier for Tagak to cross to the other side if he had a young bride at his side.

Sayyna grew silent. She didn’t like where this conversation was leading. There were stories about men who took young brides when they died. When the two crossed together to the other side, the man became young, danced in the northern lights and went hunting with the spirits. Nothing was ever said about the fate of the young girl who went with him, but it was generally understood that she was consumed utterly. Carefully she said, Well that’s as may be, but I think as a young bride I want a young groom to stand by my side and from whom I may get children someday.

There are many who can produce children but few are the ones who can stand with the spirits.

It was definitely time to change the subject. Did you travel far today father in order to get the walrus?

Not far as the dogs run – very far in some respects. Anuk withdrew his skinning knife and began to sharpen it even though the blade could already be used as a razor to shave a man’s face. It glinted in the light from the small fire. Sayyna began to feel afraid. Something was terribly wrong but she had no idea what it was. The man sitting in her igloo looked like her father. He had her father’s eyes. He spoke with the voice of her father; but, if she was certain of only one thing in her life, this man was not her father. The knife went snick, snick, snick as it passed over the sharpening stone. Anuk appeared not to notice her but whatever she did, whether she worked with food, cleaned and put the eating utensils away, or began her needlework; she felt the man’s eyes following her. Time passed. The knife was surely sharpened but still Anuk continued to stroke the blade across the stone. Snick, snick, snick, the sound seemed to echo in the small igloo.

The hour grows late. Have you no thoughts for going to bed my daughter?

Uh, yes. You can sleep and I’ll just finish this. I don’t have much left to do and I’d like to finish it today. I can work without the oil light so that you won’t be disturbed as you sleep.

Very well daughter. He got into his sleeping robes and was soon snoring quietly. Once she was certain that he was in a deep sleep she began moving carefully, gathering up those few of her belongings. She didn’t know why, but she was absolutely certain that it would be a bad idea to go to sleep in the same igloo as Anuk. When she was packed, she carefully put on her outdoors clothing being careful not to disturb the sleeper. Finally she moved quietly and carefully out the door and onto the ice outside. Not far away, the dogs turned restlessly in their sleep but they did not bark or sound any alarm because her scent was well known to them.

The question she faced was what to do next. She would have liked to go to Yutu’s igloo but to do so would seem awfully forward. She was pretty sure he liked her and she knew that he would definitely welcome her and provide her with a place to stay, but still, how would she answer his questions even if they remained unspoken? Of course she was friends with all the villagers and there was no-one who would deny her a place to sleep for the night, but all would wonder why she had left her father and she had no answers. In fact, she wasn’t all that sure herself. Still, she believed it was essential for her to leave and she chose not to second-guess herself. At last it occurred to her to go to the Kashim. In addition to providing her with shelter from the elements, it was a holy place and might help her understand the disquietude that so unsettled her.

Once inside she lit a small fire and looked around. Unlike many shamans, Anuk had no qualms about allowing his daughter to accompany him to the Kashim so she had been inside on numerous occasions although not recently. That was not because of any discouragement on Anuk’s part. He left it up to her to accompany him or not, but as she’d grown older she’d focused more on the womanly aspects of life and left the shamanism to her dad. Still she knew many of the rituals and most of the ceremonies so she began to gather the ingredients that, when placed on the fire, would produce the sweet smoke that allowed shamans a path to the world of the spirits.

Most shamans were male but occasionally a female would be chosen. Sayyna was not particularly interested in pursuing the profession so her father had not explicitly trained her; but, simply by being around him she had learned a considerable amount. She knew the exact method for entering the realm of the spirits but found herself puzzled by the need to dig through so many items in the igloo for the ingredients. It was as if Anuk himself had made no attempt to use them for a long time but had allowed them to be shoved into a corner where they wouldn’t be noticed.

At last she was ready. She had a small fire burning and, into it she placed the ingredients that would produce sweet smoke to facilitate the crossing. Sitting back, the way in which she had seen her father do, she relaxed and allowed her mind to drift where it would until at last she relaxed into a state that was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. At first she saw nothing unusual but she made no attempt to force the issue and contented herself with being warm and comfortable when suddenly she found herself standing outside, alone, on a plane of ice. Her village was gone. All her familiar surroundings were gone. It was dark but she could see quite plainly. Even the northern lights seemed to have vanished or, at least, become a constant and steady source of light in the sky as opposed to the flickering lights that she knew and was familiar with.