Tundra

The wind was fast, faster than me as I pulled uphill on horseback. The wind of the tundra was racing, and I raced with it. It streamed past my ears, whooshing and howling, hooting and hollering, cheering for its victory. Then, I was at the top of the hill, in the clearing in the centre of a crowning copse of trees, deep in the forest where the trail petered out. This was where I saw them before– the druids. Only, they weren’t here anymore. Stamped out was the fire with embers that glowed in the dark charcoal like stars in t the black night sky. Gone were the tepees made out of leather, and gone were the feather blankets, one of which had kept me warm over the night on which I was delayed.

Instead of these things, there were only mammoth people who had ridden up the long trail, fortifying the area and preparing to leave. Beasts stomped around the clearing, levelling the ground made from packed dirt, ashes and dust. Tusks reared, ripping out trees by their roots. In place of bark, there was only shaggy fur, and in place of blankets, there were only mammoth skins. When I tried to talk to the mammoth riders, they recognised me, but were unwilling to speak. All they would say was that the winter solstice was coming, and that meant that evil was coming, too.

‘We need to keep to the hills,’ they said. ‘And avoid the wilder tundra. Solstice, like equinox, is the season for camping.’ As for why they had chosen to camp in the exact same spot as the druids, the mammoth riders stayed silent.

Finally, someone emerged from between the legs of an enormous mammoth, and this was someone whom I recognised.

‘Reshrin!’ I declared. He looked more haggard than he had done before, and more threadbare in the cold, but it was unmistakeably the druid with the golden torque and garland of oak leaves, whom I had first encountered weeks ago.

‘You shouldn’t have come here,’ he said.

I shook my head. ‘I need to know what’s going on. The fungus has found its way inside my school. You were –this was– the only place I could think of to come.’

Reshrin ignored the last part of my statement. ‘How did that happen?’ he demanded.

‘One of my colleagues found some,’ I panted, breathless now.

‘And he tried to stick it in one of his books?’ Reshrin guessed. ‘You people don’t know anything, do you?’ He shook his mane in a lamentation of my ignorance, which I had no opportunity to say was not the cause of the disaster I had borne witness to. ‘Nevertheless,’ he said, ‘I cannot help right now. The light of the Otherworld is changing, and soon it will take me over. I must be away from Seafarers soon, as well as from mammoth riders, and from you. I must return to the deep Everglade, so that only the wild may know me this solstice.’

I baulked. ‘What do you mean?’

Reshrin seemed bitter, but sat himself on the beaten earth, and motioned for me to join him. ‘Must I explain everything? We are entering that season of the year where the Otherworld demands its due. Over the next few nights, I may have to eat the fungus to allow the spirits to possess me, and if I do, it will not be safe for you or anyone else to see me.’

‘Why?’ I couldn’t help but ask. ‘Surely, with everything that’s going on, you have more pressing concerns!’

‘It’s the bargain we make,’ Reshrin said. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’ He could not have known that I had my origins in bargain-making more than any other, for I had come from Blackmouth, under Ulrik’s regime, where bargains were all that was traded, and souls were sold for the price of magic powers.

‘What am I supposed to do, then?’ I said simply.

‘Those at Mossen Grove may be able to help you,’ said the druid, grudgingly. ‘I doubt you’ll be able to…’ Then, Reshrin’s voice changed, taking on a trance-like tone. I thought I saw antlers flash above his head, but it was only the branches behind him. ‘We have something to show you,’ he mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I have already eaten the blood of the Otherworld,’ Reshrin explained, momentarily himself again. ‘The spirits are coming through. Mossen Grove is your best option. The sleepers will not talk to you, but you may be able to have one of us…’ The antlers flashed back into existence, accompanied by fox ears and fangs. ‘Look at the southerner,’ the druid drawled. ‘I hunger, southerner, you will feed me!’ With considerable effort, he restrained himself again. ‘Someone may intercede on your behalf with them,’ he finished. ‘Now, go.’

‘T-Thankyou,’ I stammered.

‘Don’t thank me, just leave!’

I strode out of the clearing, casting backward looks at Reshrin until he vanished between trees. Then, I nearly ran headlong into another person I vaguely recognised. This young woman was dressed entirely in black, the academic robe or uniform of Blackmouth Academy, where I came from before being expelled. She held an open scroll in her hand, and read from it as I stood shocked.

‘You are summoned.’

‘No,’ I told her firmly. ‘This is more important. I will answer whatever questions you have, but right now I have to go to Mossen Grove.’ I tried to push her out of the way, but the Apprentice would not be refused.

‘Nonetheless, you are summoned,’ she insisted.

I turned my back on her, and swung myself up onto my horse. With the reins wrapped tightly around my wrists, I delivered my parting words. ‘Tell them at the Tower, I’ll be back soon.’