Chronicles of Ancient Darkness
Chapter 63 : Inuktiluk snorted. 'Not one like this.''Then we'll go around it,�

Inuktiluk snorted. 'Not one like this.'

'Then we'll go around it,' said Renn.

Inuktiluk threw up his hands. Whistling to his lead dog, he started across the lake. 'We cross on foot,' he told them. 'Walk behind me, and do exactly as I say!'

Burning with frustration, they followed and were soon absorbed in the difficult task of simply staying upright.

'Keep to the white ice,' called Inuktiluk.

'What's wrong with the grey ice?' said Renn, eyeing a patch to her right.

'That's new ice. Very dangerous! If you ever have to cross it, stay apart and keep moving.'

Torak and Renn glanced at each other, and widened the gap between them.

Even the white ice was wind-polished to a treacherous slipperiness, and they slowed to an anxious shuffle. Inuktiluk's boots seemed to grip the ice, allowing him to stride ahead, and the dogs' sharp claws proved best of all; but the puppy slithered about in his seal-hide boots, reminding Torak painfully of Wolf. As a cub, he'd been forever tripping over his paws.

'How deep is the lake?' asked Renn.

Inuktiluk laughed. 'It doesn't matter! The cold will kill you before you can shout for help!'

It was a relief to reach the sh.o.r.e and climb onto solid snow. While Inuktiluk checked the dogs' paws, Torak drew Renn aside. 'There's more cover up ahead,' he whispered, 'we might be able to get away!'

'And go where?' she replied. 'How do we get round the ice river? How do we find the Eye of the Viper? Face it, Torak, we need him!'

The land became harder to cross, with jagged ridges and swooping declines. To help the dogs, they jumped off and ran up the slopes, leaping back on the sled as it sped downhill, while Inuktiluk slowed it by digging in the tines of a reindeer-antler brake.

The cold sapped their strength, but the White Fox man was tireless. Clearly he loved his strange, icy land, and he seemed troubled that they knew so little about it. He insisted that they drink often, even when they weren't thirsty, and he made them carry their waterskins inside their parkas, to stop them freezing. He also made them ration the amount of blubber they ate or smeared on their faces. 'You'll need it for melting ice,' he said. 'Remember, you only have as much water as you have blubber for melting ice!'

Seeing their puzzled expressions, he sighed. 'If you're to survive, you need to do as we do. Follow the ways of the creatures of the ice. The willow grouse burrows a shelter in the snow. We do too. The eider duck lines her nest with her feathers. We do the same with our sleeping-sacks. We eat our meat raw, like the ice bear. We borrow the strength and endurance of reindeer and seal, by making our clothes from their hides. This is the way of the ice.' He squinted at the sky. 'Above all, we pay heed to the wind, which rules our lives.'

As if in answer, it began blowing from the north. Torak felt its icy touch on his face, and knew that it was not appeased.

Inuktiluk must have guessed his thoughts, because he pointed to the far sh.o.r.e of the lake, where one of the stone men stood. 'We build those to honour it. Sooner or later, you'll have to make an offering.'

Torak worried about that. At the bottom of his pack lay Fa's blue slate knife, and in his medicine pouch, his mother's medicine horn. He couldn't imagine parting with either.

Around noon, they came to an eerie land where giant slabs of ice tilted crazily. From deep within came hollow groans and echoing cracks. The dogs flattened their ears, and Inuktiluk gripped an eagle-claw amulet sewn to his parka.

'This is the sh.o.r.e ice,' he said in a low voice, 'where land ice and sea ice fight for mastery. We must get through quickly.'

Renn craned her neck at a jagged spike looming overhead. 'It feels as if there are demons here.'

The White Fox looked at her sharply. 'This is one of the places where Sea demons get close to the skin of our world. They're restless. Trying to get out.'

'Can they?' said Torak.

'Sometimes one slips through a crack.'

'It's the same in the Forest,' said Renn. 'The Mages keep watch, but a few demons always escape.'

Inuktiluk nodded. 'This winter it's been worse than most. In the Dark Time, when the sun was dead, a demon sent a great island of ice surging inland. It crushed a Walrus Clan shelter, killing everyone inside. A little later, another demon sent a sickness that took the child of a woman of my clan. Then her older boy went onto the ice. We searched, but we never found him.' He paused. 'This is why we must send you south. You bring great evil.'

'We didn't bring it,' said Torak.

'We followed it,' said Renn.

'Tell me what you mean,' urged the White Fox.

They stayed silent. Torak felt bad, as he was growing to like Inuktiluk.

They pressed on through the broken mountains of ice. At last the sh.o.r.e ice gave way to flatter, crinkled ice. To Torak's surprise, Inuktiluk squared his shoulders and breathed deeply. 'Ah! Sea ice! Much better!'

Torak didn't share his ease. The ice before him seemed to be bending. Bewildered, he watched it gently rising and falling, like the hide of some enormous creature.

'Yes,' said Inuktiluk, 'it bends with the breath of the Sea Mother. Soon, in the Moon of Roaring Rivers, the thaw will begin, and this place will become deadly. Great cracks tide cracks, we call them appear beneath your feet, and swallow you up. But for now, it's a good place to hunt.'

'To hunt what?' said Torak. 'Back at the lake I saw hare tracks, but there's nothing here.'

For the first time, Inuktiluk looked at him with approval. 'So you noticed those? I hadn't thought a Forest boy would.' He pointed straight down. 'This prey is under the ice. We do as the ice bear. We hunt seal.'

Renn s.h.i.+vered. 'Do ice bears eat people?'

'The Great Wanderer eats anything,' said Inuktiluk, sticking the antler in the ice to tether the dogs. 'But he prefers seal. He's the best hunter there is. He can smell a seal through an arm's length of ice.'

'Why have you stopped?' said Torak.

'I'm going hunting,' said the White Fox.

'But you can't! We can't stop to hunt!'

'Well what are you going to eat?' replied Inuktiluk. 'We need more blubber, and meat for the dogs!'

That shamed Torak into silence; but inside, he burned with impatience. It was six days since Wolf had been taken.

Inuktiluk unhitched his lead dog, and slowly paced the ice. Soon the dog found what it sought. 'A seal's breathing-hole,' Inuktiluk said quietly. It was tiny: a low molehill with a hole in the top about half a thumb wide, its edges grooved, where the seal had gnawed to keep it open.

From the sled, Inuktiluk took a piece of reindeer hide and laid it with the furry side on the ice, downwind of the hole. 'To m.u.f.fle the sound of my boots, like the ice bear's furry pads.' He laid a swan's feather across the hole. 'Just before the seal surfaces, it breathes out and the feather moves. That's when I've got to act fast. The seal only takes a few gulps of air before it's gone again.'

He motioned them back to the shelter of the sled. 'I must stand and wait, like the ice bear, but in those clothes you'd freeze. Stay out of the wind, and stay still! The slightest tremor will warn the seals.' He took up position, standing motionless, with his harpoon raised.

As Torak crouched behind the sled, he began to unpick the knots that fastened his pack to the runners.

'What are you doing?' whispered Renn.

'Getting out of here,' he said. 'Are you coming?'

She started untying her pack.

They were behind Inuktiluk, so they were able to shoulder their packs and sleeping-sacks without being seen; but as they rose, he turned his head. He didn't move or speak. He just looked.

Defiantly, Torak stared back. But he didn't stir. This man had opened a vein to save them. He was a hunter, like them. And they were about to spoil his hunt.

'We can't do this,' breathed Renn.

'I know,' replied Torak.

Slowly, they unhitched their packs.

Inuktiluk turned back to the breathing-hole.

Suddenly the feather twitched.

With the speed of a striking heron, Inuktiluk thrust in the harpoon. The harpoon head came off the shaft, and stuck like a toggle under the seal's hide. With one hand Inuktiluk hauled on the rope tied to the head, and with the other he used the shaft of the disarmed harpoon to enlarge the breathing-hole.

Dropping their packs, Torak and Renn ran to help. One tremendous pull and the seal was out, and dead of a blow to the head before it hit the ice.

'Thanks!' panted Inuktiluk.

They helped him haul the streaming silver carca.s.s away from the hole.

The dogs were in a frenzy to get at it, but Inuktiluk silenced them with a word. Easing the harpoon head from the wound, he st.i.tched it shut with a slender bone that he called a "wound plug", so as not to waste blood. Then he rolled the seal onto its back, and tilted its snout into the hole. 'To send its souls down to the Sea Mother, to be born again.' Taking off his mitten, he stroked the pale, spotted belly. 'Thank you, my friend. May the Sea Mother give you a fine new body!'

'We do the same thing in the Forest,' said Renn.

Inuktiluk smiled. Slitting the seal at just the right place, he slipped in his hand and brought out the steaming, dark-red liver.

Behind them a bark rang out, and they saw a small white fox sitting on the ice. It was shorter and fatter than the red Forest foxes, and it was watching Inuktiluk with inquisitive golden-brown eyes.

He grinned. 'The guardian wants his share!' He threw it a piece, and the fox caught it neatly, and downed it in a gulp. Inuktiluk handed chunks of liver to Torak and Renn. It was firm and sweet, and slid down easily. The White Fox man tossed the lungs to the dogs; but Torak noticed that they only sniffed them, and seemed too restless to eat.

'We were lucky,' said Inuktiluk through a mouthful of liver. 'Sometimes I wait a whole day for a seal to come.' He raised an eyebrow. 'I wonder if you'd have the patience to wait that long.'

Torak thought for a moment. 'I want to tell you something.' He paused. Renn nodded. 'We came north to find our friend,' he went on. 'Please. You have to let us go.'

Inuktiluk sighed. 'I know now that you mean well. But you must understand, I can't do this.'

'Why not?' said Renn.

On the other side of the sled, the dogs were whining and tugging at their tethers.

Torak went to see what was troubling them.

'What is it?' said Renn.

He didn't reply. He was trying to make out the dogs' talk. Compared to wolf talk, it was much simpler, like the speech of puppies. 'They can smell something,' he said, 'but the wind's gusting, so they're not sure where it is.'

'What is it they smell?' said Renn, reaching for her bow.

Inuktiluk's jaw dropped. 'Do you does he understand them?'

Torak never got the chance to reply. A ridge of ice to his left suddenly rose and became a great white bear.

TWELVE.

The ice bear raised its head on its long neck, and tasted Torak's scent.

With an effortless surge, it reared on its hind legs. It was taller than a tall man standing on the shoulders of another, and each paw was twice the size of Torak's head. One swat would snap his spine like a willow twig.

Swinging its head from side to side, it slitted its hard black eyes, and snuffed the air. It saw Torak standing alone on the ice; Renn and Inuktiluk moving to take cover behind the sled. It smelt the b.l.o.o.d.y snow beyond them, and the half-butchered carca.s.s of the seal. It heard the dogs howling and straining at their tether in their foolish l.u.s.t to attack. It took in everything with the unhurried ease of a creature who has never known fear. The power of winter was in its limbs, the savagery of the wind in its claws. It was invincible.

The blood roared in Torak's ears. The sled was ten paces in front of him. It could have been a hundred.

In silence the ice bear dropped to all fours, and a ripple ran through its heavy, yellow-white pelt.

'Don't run,' Inuktiluk told Torak quietly. 'Walk. Towards us. Sideways. Don't show it your back.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Torak saw Renn nocking an arrow to her bow; Inuktiluk gripping a harpoon in either hand.

Don't run.

But his legs ached to run. He was back in the Forest, running from the wreck of the shelter where his father lay dying, running from the demon bear. 'Torak!' shouted Fa with his final breath. 'Run!'

Summoning every shred of will, Torak took a shaky step towards the sled.

The ice bear lowered its head and fixed its gaze upon him. Then at a lazy, inturned walk it ambled between him and the sled.

He swayed.

The ice bear made no sound as it set down each foot. Not a click of claws on ice. Not a whisper of breath.

Hardly knowing what he did, Torak slid his hand out of his mitten and felt for his knife. It wouldn't come free of its sheath. He pulled harder. No good. He should have heeded Inuktiluk's advice, and kept it inside his parka. The leather sheath had frozen solid.

'Torak!' called Inuktiluk softly. 'Catch!'

A harpoon flew through the air, and Torak caught it in one hand. The slender bone point looked feeble beyond measure. 'Will it be any use?' he said.

'Not much. But at least you'll die like a man.'

The ice bear breathed out with a rasping 'hssh' and Torak caught a flash of yellow fangs, and knew with a cold clutch of terror that the harpoon had been a mistake. This bear would not be intimidated; but it could be goaded to attack.