Northwind Episode 10

Northwind © Christoffer Petersen 2022 (Now available for pre-order from Amazon)

December 10

Aassik came in the night. Luui woke to the patter of snow falling onto her face from the ceiling of the snow cave she had scooped out of a drift on the side of the mountain. She opened her eyes, expecting to see signs of Naalanngitsoq swirling around the inside of the cave, wanting to play. But the cheeky wind had disappeared and the air hole Luui had made with her ice axe was full of snow. She gripped the adze to waggle the shaft, widening the tube of snow to get more into the cave. As soon as she touched the ice axe, she felt the first trembles through the mountain.

“Aassik,” she breathed. Her breath misted in front of her face and Luui stared into it as if staring into an old television screen as the picture flickered into life.

Shapes formed in Luui’s breath, and when she focused she saw a great worm with four huge teeth, thick like claws, and each claw was the size of a small, hooked mountain peak. Luui, her fingertips still on the axe, breathed another cloud of mist into the cave as the great ice worm in the burst out of the image in front of her face in an explosion of snow and ice. The splinters of ice were huge, three times as big as Luui’s cabin, and four times as tall. The sharper ones cut the side of the worm, drawing black blood from Aassik’s scaled body, but the worm didn’t notice. It reared up to crash down, opening its mouth with great meaty petals, a massive claw at each point, as it drew great gusts of air into its body, before closing its mouth just seconds before smashing through the crust of snow and ice once more.

Luui watched the image in her breath as a desert nomad might stare into a mirage, transfixed. She knew she had to move, that the trembles would soon be thundering quakes triggering avalanches and rockfalls on the exposed sections of the mountain. But when she looked past the brutal power of the worm’s progress through the mountains, Luui saw a beauty in the rhythm of Aassik’s movement, snaking up and crashing down, again, and again. She felt a tickle of wind upon her cheek, fluttering her fringe, and ignored it. She lifted her chin as the image of Aassik rose up, only to dip her head again when the worm bit into the ice.

Chin up.

Head down.

The great ice worm was coming.

And then, more insistent this time, Naalanngitsoq thumped a handful of snow into Luui’s face.

“Hey!”

She brushed snow from her cheeks and pinched the more stubborn layers from her eyelashes. Luui searched her breath for signs of Aassik but he was gone. The mirage evaporated in another slap of snow from the cheeky wind.

“Not gone,” Luui said, suddenly alert, spell broken. “But close. Very close.”

Luui grabbed her slingpack, pulling it out of the hole in the tunnel out of the cave as if popping a cork from a bottle. Naalanngitsoq was there, blustering up the tunnel and swirling around Luui’s body, pushing, insisting, and driving the young Greenlandic woman out of the cave. Luui built her tunnels like a slide, digging up into a drift to keep the cool air below her. She slid out into the black night, puffing snow from her lips as she scrabbled to her feet. She shivered for a second, turned her head to look north and saw the first signs of the worm as bank of snow roiled across the ridge on the peak opposite Luui’s. Naalanngitsoq curled a small tornado of snow in front of Luui, spinning to the east as if leading the way, but Luui simply stared at the worm’s progress and stuffed her hand inside her slingpack.

“Let’s not rush this, Naalanngitsoq,” she said, as she stuffed a chewy strip of dried whale meat into her mouth. “Let’s not be hasty.”

Naalanngitsoq spun the tornado around Luui’s body, furrowing a circle in the snow. Luui nodded, not altogether unsympathetic as she imagined Aassik inhaling great gusts of air, and how unpleasant it would be for Naalanngitsoq to be trapped inside the deep, dark cold of the worm’s innards. And yet, another strip of meat, followed by a small handful of snow she scooped into a ball of ice to suck on, Luui waited.

“The trick,” she said, licking at the flecks of whale meat sticking to her teeth, “is to know what Aassik wants.”

Naalanngitsoq spun to the left, and then immediately to the right, drawing snow back and forth as if the cheeky wind was shaking her head.

“Now,” Luui said, her body trembling as Aassik ploughed closer and closer. “Aassik wants a meal. We know that. There can’t be much in the mountains for a great worm to eat, and what there is can’t be much more than a mouthful.”

Luui squirmed her feet into the snow, spreading her legs, bending her knees slightly, compensating as the trembling threatened to topple her. She felt the first rocks beneath the surface of snow start to loosen. Aassik was gone, dipping below the ridge above her, invisible but for the snow bursting into the sky, glittering in the moonlight. The worm was close, and Luui trembled, not just from Aassik but from the first rumble of fear inside her body.

“Now,” she said, measuring her words to hide the fear lest it take control. “I’m not much more than a mouthful, but I bet I’m the best mouthful Aassik has had in a long time.”

She forced a smile onto her lips, wondering what Kalaagi would say if he heard her describe herself as a tasty mouthful fit for a worm. Naaluk would giggle. Luui was sure of it. And she smiled at the thought of how Kalaagi would react to that, admonishing his sister, which would only make Naaluk giggle harder, probably even fall over. Which was what it was all about.

“Laughter is the key,” she said, with a nod to Naalanngitsoq as she swirled frantically this way and that in front of Luui. “It helps to laugh.”

Luui tightened the strap of her slingpack and then looped the strap of the ice axe around the wrist of her right hand. She shook as the mountain trembled at the approach of the great ice worm.

“This is it, Naalanngitsoq,” Luui shouted. “Get ready.”

The mountain shook and Luui slid down the narrow valley in which she had made her camp. She spun the ice axe, changing her grip and thrusting the jagged pick into the snow. She dug it deep, grunting as the very tip struck something hard. She lifted it again, slid another two metres down the mountain, and swung the axe a second time, harder, digging it into the ice, maybe even the skin of the mountain.

“The trick is,” she shouted, as much for herself as the cheeky wind, now in full flight, “knowing what he wants. When you know that, you can make a deal.”

Luui slipped as Aassik burst over the ridge above her head, knocking her axe free and sending Luui tumbling down the mountain.

“I know what you want, Aassik,” she cried, spitting snow from her mouth as she turtled on her back, spinning so her head pointed down the mountain. She shouted again but heard nothing beyond the roar and rumble of the great ice worm as it reared up, opened its maw, claws glinting in the moonlight as it crashed down towards Luui. “But it’s going to cost you. And,” she hoped she said, hoped she shouted, “it won’t be cheap.”

Aassik the great ice worm dived at Luui, closing its mouth in a cacophony of snow, ice, rock, and one shaman’s daughter.

 

To be continued on December 11

Northwind © Christoffer Petersen 2022

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