Chapter Twelve: Fleeting Encounter

 

Kyosti awoke.

Everything was white, and for several moments he blinked, wondering what was wrong with his eyes.

Then a winter bird nearby twittered, and he remembered.

For a while, he just lay there, alternatively blinking furiously and rubbing his eyes. Nothing changed. He couldn’t feel the sun on his skin, so either the sun hadn’t risen yet, or it was still cloudy. Good. Maybe the Seers wouldn’t see them coming.

Eventually he became aware that he was crying, tears sliding out his eyes and down the sides of his cheeks. In the freezing air, the tears stung and hurt, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away.  He thought, with another moment of panic, about the knife in his pack.

He heard rustling to his left, like Sanji was moving in her bedroll. He jumped as he felt something touch his face.

“Sorry,” she muttered as she wiped away his tears. “It can’t be comfortable to cry when it’s this cold.”

Kyosti resisted the urge to knock her hand away and waited until she had finished to sit up. “How late is it?” he asked hoarsely.

“I have no idea,” Sanji responded. More rustling came from her side; he wanted to know what she was doing but also didn’t want to ask. “The days here in the south are so short. I woke up hours ago, but got so bored waiting for the sun to rise I fell back asleep again.” He heard her shiver. “And it’s so cold too!”

Kyosti ignored her. “We should leave soon then. We’re still at least a full three days’ travel away from the Seer’s Camp.”

Sanji, at least, had been in the area of the Seer’s Camp before, even if she hadn’t stopped to visit, so she needed no direction from Kyosti about how to find it. As they stumbled and fumbled their way through the woods and ravines, Sanji kept a firm arm through Kyosti’s, huddling up against him.

“I don’t think you need to hold me this closely,” he told her crossly. “Just hold my elbow or something.”

“You mistake my intentions,” she replied. “I’m very cold.”

Kyosti rolled his eyes. “I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised, with what they say about the north.”

Sanji clicked her tongue, guiding him to duck his head under a low-hanging branch. “What exactly do you mean?”

“That the sun never sets there. It’s always warm.” He showed an admirable amount of restraint, he thought, and didn’t comment on how uncomfortable that thought made him. Sometimes, even just having the eye of the Limitless Spyglass staring down at him for a few hours every day made him uncomfortable. How could people stand not having night to rest??

Sanji took a moment to answer. “That’s only in the very north, though it’s true that our days are longer and it’s a lot warmer there. Now, is it true that in the south there are places where the sun never rises?”

Kyosti nodded firmly. “Yes, that’s true.”

“But of course people don’t live down there.”

“But of course people do live down there,” he corrected her. “In fact, I used to be one of them. We didn’t spend the winters in the darkness, but often during the summers we would visit.”

Her next question had a twinge of disbelief to it. “Oh? And what was it like down there?”

For a moment, Kyosti considered what to tell her.

“Cold,” he said finally, with relish. “You think this is cold, but you haven’t truly experienced it unless you have passed beyond the darkness. It’s a place that has never seen light, and never will. Structures of ice older than---”

Sanji suddenly yanked him to a halt. “What is that????” she asked in a whisper.

He blinked. “Ice? Uh, well, it’s like----I mean, ice is---”

“No, no, that!!! That thing! It’s watching us!” Her voice quavered, but he couldn’t tell it it was in fear or excitement.

Kyosti took a moment to breathe in and then out. “Sanji,” he began, but she had already realized her mistake.

“An animal, small like a cat, but shaped like a dog. Red. Pointy ears and nose. But, Kyosti, it’s on fire. There are flames coming out of it! But it’s not hurt, it’s just...watching us?”

Understanding finally, he told her, “That’s a Fleeting Fox! Well, aren’t we lucky, they’re not so common anymore. Mainly you only see their cousins, which look just like them except without the flames.”

Her hands were like vices around his arm, and he could feel her trembling. Without her talking, he realized he could hear the crackling of the flames coming off the Fox. He didn’t wonder that it hadn’t run off yet; Fleeting Foxes were braver and more intelligent than regular foxes, and they feared nothing, not even humans. “Fleeting Foxes are henchmen to the Fiery Wolverine, the god who rules these parts. Many of the Chith worship them as demigods.”

“Aren’t you Chith?” she said, still whispering. “Shouldn’t you be prostrating or something?”

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, that’s not how you worship a Fleeting Fox. Prostrations mean nothing to him, only food. He would prefer we killed a deer or something. Second of all, I’m from the Icefields, so I don’t worship any Fiery Wolverine.”

Moving slowly, she tugged him forward again. “I suppose that means you hold to the Leopard Queen instead.”

Impressed, he smiled involuntarily. “That’s right. Most Chith don’t even bother to learn what she’s called, let alone Kenjians. Good job.”

She said nothing after that, simply led him forward. The crackling of the Fleeting Fox, who probably watched them with glowing eyes, faded away behind them.

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Photo by Ian Schneider on Unsplash