Northwind Episode 23

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

December 23

It had felt like a good idea at the time, and with memories of her five-year-old self driving her forwards, Luui had imagined simply grabbing the attention of the bear and leading it away from the mountain as it tried to eat her.

Simple, she had thought. And no magic involved.

But as she studied the bear, was she watched the great chunks of ice slide of its flanks and crash onto the ground with the power and thunder of a glacier calving, Luui thought of an alternative plan, one that would require help, “And a little magic, after all.”

She spent the rest of the night and the next day observing Sermilissuaq and, on retreating to a shallow snow cave she and Naalanngitsoq hollowed out of a snow drift, she entered a trance state to call for backup.

Backup.

It made her smile before she cleared her mind, searching for the entrance to the spirit world. But either Luui’s luck had run out, or the thought of tangling with Sermilissuaq was too much – even for Âmo, which worried her –as all the spirits were busy.

Busy wasn’t good.

But as Luui returned from her brief visit to the spirit world, and Qaqqaq rumbled – just checking in – she thought of someone else, some thing, that might help.

“He’s helped me once, already,” Luui whispered, although the thought of what it had cost her sent shivers through her body. Naalanngitsoq flicked at Luui’s fringe, querying the furrow on Luui’s brow as the shaman’s daughter nodded, decision made.

Of course, finding the worm was another matter.

Luui slid out of the tunnel she had bored into the snow cave and then waited for Naalanngitsoq to flurry after her. The cheeky little wind had stuck around longer than Luui had imagined she would, to the point where the shaman’s daughter was beginning to worry about attachment issues.

Winds need to be free, to grow strong. Luui sighed. Like Northwind. She held out her finger and spun it, encouraging the little wind to wrap herself around it.

“It’s time for you to go, now, Naalanngitsoq.”

Luui winced at the sudden pinch of cold air Naalanngitsoq wrapped around her finger. But just as she released her father to rest, it was time for the wind to blow free and far.

“You can’t stay with me forever,” she said, wincing again at another bite. “But you can visit, whenever you want. Only, I think it’s best if you don’t see what happens next.” Luui took a breath, not entirely sure she wanted to see it either. “But if you can do one last thing,” she said, nodding as Naalanngitsoq whipped up a fresh tornado of surface snow, spinning to the left and right in front of Luui. “Then, perhaps, you could find Northwind?”

Naalanngitsoq slowed, the snow cascaded to the ground, and Luui nodded.

“If you would?” she said.

And then, with a plume of white powder as Naalanngitsoq streaked through the snow, the little wind was gone and Luui was alone on the mountain.

“Okay,” she said, tightening the strap of her slingpack. “It’s time.”

Qaqqaq rumbled again, and Luui nodded. But when the rumbling continued, she paused. She turned her head, scanning the ridges for the familiar burst of snow as she realised the rumble didn’t come from inside the mountain, but across it.

Luui took a second to determine the worm’s direction, and then picked her way back up the slope to the lip of Sermilissuaq’s hollow. She caught her breath at the top and stared down at the great bear covered in ice.

“It’s the ice that’s the problem,” she said, as her breath clouded in front of her face. She shivered in the chill air as she studied the bear. Since choosing its new residence, it had hardly moved and the ice had built up, grown heavy, weighing the bear down until great sheaths of ice slid off it to make room for more layers. “But if we can get rid of more layers,” Luui said. “Then Sermilissuaq can run and hunt again.” She grinned, took a breath, and said, “Good plan, Luui Angakkuarneq. Now, let’s make this work.”

Luui gripped the ice axe in both hands and leaped over the top of the slope to begin her mad descent down the other side as she steered for the nose of Sermilissuaq.

Glissading – that’s what they called it. Although Luui wondered if falling wasn’t a better word for sliding down a steep snowfield without skis, and with little or no control. She used the tip of the ice axe like a rudder as she crouched, snow pluming from her heels. Luui steered towards the bear’s nose, sparing a glance ever other second at the snow and grit pluming in the wake of the worm as Aassik burrowed through the surface snow, curved to rise over stubborn crests of granite, before crashing over the lip of the hollow on an intercept course headed straight for the shaman’s daughter.

But Luui was light, unencumbered by the bands of cartilage covering the Arctic Annelida in crusty segments. She cruised towards Sermilissuaq’s nose, not entirely sure what she would do when she reached it, but confident she would get there before Aassik got her.

“Which is when the fun begins,” she said, breath wisping away over her shoulder as the great bear opened its eyes.

Luui tried kicked off the snow to sprawl on the ice, star-shaped, as she tried to slow her descent only to enter an uncontrolled, and, frankly, inelegant, spin towards the bear’s nose. She slammed into Sermilissuaq with such force she knocked a chunk of ice from its nose, before flying through the air to crash into the side of the bear’s face. Luui swung the ice axe and the pick caught in the ice covering Sermilissuaq’s ear, arresting Luui’s flight, until she hung there like a shaman-sized earring dangling from Sermilissuaq’s icy lobes.

“Hi there,” Luui said, as Sermilissuaq caught her eye.

Ice didn’t just weight the bear down, Luui realised as it stared at her with one great black eye, it slowed it down, too, including its otherwise renowned intelligence. Polar bears were smart. They used tools, had been observed pushing blocks of ice like a screen in front of it as it wriggled towards a seal basking on the surface of the sea ice. They plunged their great paws through the roofs of seals snow holes, after waiting interminable lengths of time for the slightest whisper of a seal inside it. But Sermilissuaq was slow and encumbered, far more so than the ice worm as it adjusted course, sensing Luui dangling beneath Sermilissuaq’s ear.

Bears are smart.

Worms… Not so much.

While Luui saw a bear covered in ice, Aassik simply saw or sensed ice. Nothing more. The worm’s cartilage rings rippled as it picked up speed and crashed into Sermilissuaq’s head, breaking a huge chunk of ice from the bear’s frozen beard.

Luui pushed off Sermilissuaq’s ear with swift kick, tugging her axe free as she fell clear of the worm’s claws protruding from its petal mouth. She landed hard on the icy ground, gasping for breath but too stunned to move. She stared up at the worm as Aassik adjusted course once more, turning its great maw towards Luui. She swallowed, eyes glued to the worm’s descent, just as Sermilissuaq turned its head and snapped its jaws around the worm’s body.

Ice cascaded from the bear as it moved, cracking layer after layer from its flanks. It was still an oversized bear, but as it grew lighter, shedding tonnes and tonnes of ice, it grew faster, snapping at the worm, shedding chunks of ice in all directions.

Aassik escaped Sermilissuaq’s first bite with little more than a gash from a torn ring. It twisted toward its new opponent, forgetting all about the shaman’s daughter to focus on an even bigger prize. But even without eyes, Aassik’s appetite was still greater than its belly. As it slammed into Sermilissuaq’s flanks, the great bear, no longer covered in ice, caught the worm between its front paws.

Luui saw the gush of grey blood as Sermilissuaq ripped the worm in two. She felt the tremor in the ground as Sermilissuaq hurled both halves of the ice worm – one to each side of the hollow. But, as Sermilissuaq turned its eye on Luui, she saw what the bear didn’t, as both halves of the worm rippled with new life. Two independent bodies controlled by one brain – albeit a very small and limited one.

Aassik resumed its attack on Sermilissuaq, distracting the bear with the bloody end of its bottom half, as it bit at the bear’s tail with the other.

Sermilissuaq shed another layer of ice as it moved and Luui glimpsed the first hollow hairs of the great bear poking out from the thinnest layer of ice on its flanks. She tried to move as another twist of the bear’s torso sent a new barrage of ice in her direction. A smaller chunk, the size of a human head, arced through the winter sky towards Luui and she braced for what she guessed would be a stunning, if not life ending, impact.

But even as she followed the trajectory of the ice, she glimpsed other things in the sky and frowned at what looked like two crazy ptarmigans jinking through the storm of ice shards towards her. But beyond that, higher in the sky, a split second before the ice glanced the side of her head, Luui saw something yellow buzzing in a tight turn above the hollow and she smiled.

 

To be continued on December 24

Northwind © Christoffer Petersen 2022

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