Ice Blink

1: Sound of Silence

Nuna knew something had changed in the world when she awoke that morning, but at first she could not figure out what.

Nestled in the warmth of her reindeer hide sleeping bag, it was only when she lifted her head that she realised it was the sound of silence. Her connection to the rest of the world had been blocked out by howling wind and sighing snow for so long, she had forgotten what silence was like.

Nuna wriggled out of her sleeping bag and pulled her sealskin parka over her head, shivering at the brief exposure to the cold even inside the wooden walls of her home.

The fire had shrunk to embers in the night, and her father had already left, but her mother Meriwa sat with a board balanced across her lap, deftly cutting meat into strips with an ula.

"Has the storm stopped?" Nuna asked. "Has the sky finally cleared?"

"I think so." Meriwa beamed at her. "The spirits have finally listened."

"I can't believe it."

"Go outside and see for yourself."

Impatient to get ready, Nuna hopped around the room in her haste to pull mukluks over her feet. She left the house and was immediately dazzled by the light of the sun reflecting on the snow. The cold hit her like a slap to the face, stinging the end of her nose, but she didn't care.

She took a deep breath. The air of the north flowed within her, purifying her lungs.

The sun was still low, but the village was bustling already – there were always jobs to do. Dogs gambolled back and forth, barking until a man tied them to a sled. A group carried a large umiak whaling boat on their shoulders, heading towards the bay. Children ran to and fro, laughing and shouting, before an adult gave them an errand.

Everything looked... normal. In one night, their hardships seemed to be forgotten.

"Nuna!"

A familiar pair of arms closed around her waist. Before she knew it, her brother was lifting her off her feet. He spun her in a circle and put her down, where she swayed, dizzy and disoriented.

"Kenai!" she scolded, momentarily forgetting that he was older and taller.

"What?" He grinned at her, easily recognisable despite the ivory snow goggles that hid half his face.

"Why... why does everyone look so happy?"

"In case you haven't noticed, the blizzard has stopped, little sister." Kenai ruffled the crown of Nuna's head playfully. "There's so much to do. We can hunt again now! We can stock up for the winter!"

"But it might come back. You know the wind can change at any time, and even though the sky is clear now, it could cloud over in moments..."

"Stop fretting. That's been true since long before you were born."

"Yes, but –"

"What would you have us do, live in fear? Hunters always have to hunt, Nuna. We can't let the weather stop us."

"Just be careful?"

"I'm always careful. I'm offended."

"Of course you are." She made a show of rolling her eyes. "I mean it, though."

"I know you do. You and Qignaaq will tell Sedna to grant us safe passage, won't you?"

Nuna forced a smile. "We will." Or, at least, Qignaaq would. Because Qignaaq could actually feel the sila.

Kenai left to join the whaling crew in their preparations, and Nuna scanned the village. Wooden houses with spindly legs perched on the southern side of Nualik Island. The lowest dwellings were raised above the areas where the surf pushed ice onto the shore, so they wouldn't get destroyed. Nuna ducked beneath a row of animal skins hanging from wooden poles to be aired and wended her way through the chaos.