Ice Blink

19: Scout

Niju greeted Nuna as she blearily surfaced from her sleeping bag the next morning. She felt worse than the night before, and it took several tries to untangle the furs from her body.

"Ullaakuut." The traditional way of saying good morning rolled off his tongue.

"Ullaakuut." Nuna yawned halfway through her reply. The others were still sleeping deeply and silence hung heavy between them. "So, Amarok is head of Illulik's security, Siru keeps the Nigak under control, and Denali will succeed Sedna one day. Where do you fit in? What do you do for the Circle?"

"I told you, I'm the Circle's expert on spirit matters."

"Are you an angakkuq?"

"No, but the spirit world fascinates me, and I've spent years studying it."

Toklo began to stir, but when Amarok awoke, it was abrupt. In heartbeats, he was fully clothed and armed, cocking his head to listen.

The others fell silent. The wind moaned through the gaps. No sign or sound of life.

"We need to move. Now," Amarok said. "Mortu will have sent men after us."

"Are you sure?" Toklo asked.

"I just heard something, and it wasn't the wind."

"Trust him," Niju said grimly, already scrambling to get his belongings.

In a blur, they bundled up their things and stuffed them into their packs. Terror made Nuna's hands shake. She felt worse for dropping her guard and sleeping so soundly during the night.

"Come on." Amarok stamped the fire out and led the way outside. "There's no time to erase signs of our presence."

"How will we get away?"

"We run."

It was clear they wouldn't be fast enough.

Their gear and furs hampered them as they sprinted into the sunrise, ignoring the blinding light. Every breath of icy air was like knives in her lungs. The pain travelled through the rest of her body until it forced her to focus only on putting one foot in front of the other. Amarok ran like he went for early-morning sprints every day, and despite the fear and exhaustion fogging her mind, she hated the sight of his broad, unyielding back. Did he ever get tired?

Nuna craned her neck to look behind, unable to stand not knowing who pursued them. The snow was blinding in the low sunlight, but she spotted a solitary figure.

He was gaining on her, the slowest member of the group.

Fight or flight? She couldn't keep this up for much longer. She wouldn't be able to beat this trained killer, either.

He was a monster who'd ransacked her home. If she was going to die, she might as well make him bleed for it.

Nuna skidded to a halt, spraying clouds of white into the air, and pulled her spear from her back. My throat was raw and blistered; my sides heaved. With a roar, she ran straight at the figure.

"Stop! We don't know what we're up against!" Amarok commanded.

She lunged, spear shooting forwards. But she didn't let it leave her hands – she wanted to feel the impact, to know that she'd hurt this evil –

He blocked the blow, sending her spear off to the side.

What are you doing? a voice screamed in her mind. You can't fight, you're as good as dead!

The man dived on Nuna. The impact sent them both rolling and she inhaled snow, unable to keep her footing. The man threw her off him but she scrambled back onto her feet. Snow crumbled beneath her and she slid down a concealed ditch.

She swore silently. She was below him now, which gave him an advantage, and he knew it. He gave a running jump, and she couldn't see weapons, just ragged furs and a desperate face which surely intended her death.

Toklo barrelled out of nowhere, swinging a dagger, catching his foot in mid-air. The blow sent him off-balance and he toppled into the snow beside Nuna.

Toklo slammed the pommel of his knife into the man's temple.

"Where are they?" Nuna demanded. Red was seeping through her body, clouding her eyes. She couldn't see straight, couldn't think, couldn't hear. "Where's my tribe?"

"I don't – know. I'm just a scout, I –"

"Where are the Nualiks?" Nuna hit him, felt his nose crunch. She'd never struck someone before. It didn't feel right. But the roaring in her ears drowned everything else out.

In that moment, she knew she would kill him to save the tribe. She would kill them all. Perhaps her souls would be damned forever, but it was a price she had to pay.

"Nuna!"

Toklo seized her hood and tried to pull her back.

Terror rose in her at the unexpected contact and she twisted, brandishing a knife without realising what she was doing. The tip passed dangerously close to his face – a hair's breadth from nicking the skin.

He froze. Wariness spread across his features. Like he didn't know her.

Oh, gods, what did I just do? Spirits, forgive me.

Before Nuna could move or speak, the scout kicked her in the face.

White-hot pain flashed through her before her face went numb and her ears rang. She toppled backwards, spine curving through the snow's crust, and the metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth.

She hauled herself to her feet. The scout was running south. Why was no one chasing him?

Then, as she and the others watched, an arm shot out of the snow and grabbed the scout's ankle. He yelled with fright and struggled to escape, but bodies were rising from the ground in the distance.

Spirits above. How hard did he hit me?

Nuna's temples throbbed as if gripped in the jaws of a bear.

The others' faces were stricken with horror, which meant she wasn't hallucinating. This was real.

"Ahkiyyini," Niju breathed. "Skeleton spirits!"