trolls? Not so strong. I seriously need to expand my repertoire.”
“Come,” Howl said. “There’s time enough for talking on the way. We must be out of this forest by nightfall or we risk bringing the glowing Skalla down on us. They journey through the White Forest at night seeking their victims.”
“What are they?” Camille shivered. “The name alone sounds nasty.”
“They are . . . skulls. But not actual skulls. They are the spirits of those murdered in the forest and they feed on travelers. They do not rest, nor can they be laid to rest as long as their remains lie hidden within this woodland.” Howl gazed back at me. “You know the Skalla.”
I nodded slowly. “They were well known in the temple. The wood here is old, it has absorbed the energy of many wars, and the energy from the Skirts of Hel filters down through the ground from the glacier on high. Some say a great mouth to the Netherworld exists in the heart of the forest.”
“A mouth to the Netherworld . . . Do you think it might have something to do with Vikkommin?” Camille asked. “Since he lives in shadow now, could it be feeding him?”
I frowned. I’d never thought about that. “He didn’t create it, if that’s what you mean. The rip to the Netherworld was rumored to be there when I first came to the temple. Whenever a party traveled from the portals to the temple, there were always rumors of run-ins with the creatures if they crossed the forest at night. But that doesn’t mean that it can’t have played a part in what happened to him.”
“Did the temple tell you exactly what happened to Vikkommin?” Roz hung toward the back, guarding our rear.
“They never really knew.” I’d been over and over the story with Smoky and Camille, but maybe there was something I was missing. “His body was ripped to shreds—essentially turned inside out like I . . . I did with the guards at Stacia’s first safe house. But his spirit was somehow embedded in a great shadow and the two merged. I know Vikkommin can’t leave, not in body, for the shadow is corporeal and tied to this area, but he can travel on the astral.”
“Camille, what do you know about shadow forms? Has Morio taught you anything?” Roz asked.
“Yes, actually.” She frowned. “There are many forms of shadow, but most are created from astral entities rather than from spirits of Fae or mortals. There are some shadows, though, that have no consciousness. Maybe whatever happened to Vikkommin stuck him inside one of those?” Turning to me, she asked, “Have you ever gotten the sense that there’s somebody else there with Vikkommin?”
Her breath came in little puffs. The temperature wasn’t going to rise any higher, even though we were still at midmorning. I shivered and glanced at the sky. Snow was on the horizon—I could feel it in my bones and sure enough, before I could answer, a thin layer of flakes began to fall, drifting softly toward the ground.
I shook my head. “No, that I can say for certain. He’s gone mad over the centuries, but it’s him and him alone.”
“Then I’d say that’s what happened. Whatever ripped him out of his body, thrust him into one of the empty shadow forms. Sort of like a hermit crab, pulling on some other crab’s shell.”
“He didn’t do this himself, did he?” Smoky spoke up.
“Why would he do something like that?” Camille gave him a shake of the head. “That makes no sense. But perhaps . . . were others among the Priestess-hood jealous of you? Maybe a woman in love with him herself? Or someone who wanted the position of High Priestess? Could this have been a frame-up so that you’d be, at best, kicked out of the temple? At worst, you’d be killed, and either way, their path would be clear?”
“The Elders thought of that. They queried everyone under truth spells. Once pledged to Undutar, if you tell a falsehood, it can be detected. We can see through illusion.” As much as I wanted to hope for that, I knew it wasn’t the answer. Not unless somebody had managed to pull off a deception against the entire Elder Council.
She paused to stare at the sky. “We’re in for a storm. Even I can feel it. How much farther do we have to go till we come out of the forest?”
“This path will lead us out by early afternoon. We’re on the narrow end of the woodland and will come to the Skirts of Hel by nightfall.” Howl pushed ahead, walking faster. “We have to make haste, however. The snow threatens a thick fall and the going will be rough.”
“Is there an inn on the other side? Or lodging of any sort? We’ll be coming out near nightfall, and the weather is bound to be rough this evening.” Roz pulled his fur cape tighter around his shoulders.
Howl smiled so softly I could barely see it in the flurry of flakes. “You’ll be spending the night in one of my caves, with my Pack family.” Falling silent, he once again took up the march.
FOUR
BY EARLY AFTERNOON, I WAS RIDING ON Smoky’s shoulders—the snow had begun falling so thick that it piled up a good two feet in four hours. Camille was struggling, Roz helping her slog her way along, and Howl looked nervous. We had another ninety minutes, by my reckoning, before emerging from the forest, but the snow was growing heavier and my weather sense was telling me it would get worse before it got better.
“We haven’t seen the worst of it yet,” I said from atop Smoky’s shoulder.
“I fear you are right,” he answered. “The winter storms have started in earnest. The Northlands are a dangerous place once autumn begins to depart. If need be, I can transform and fly you out, but it would be difficult with the trees so thick here.”
The White Forest had gotten denser, conifers packing together to create a picture-perfect snowscape, except for the fact that we were in the middle of it and likely to be snowed in by the time we found our way to the exit.
“Vikkommin used to come here a lot,” I said softly. “He spent a lot of time in the forest, working with the snow elementals that make their home here.”
“He did, did he?” Camille’s breath was ragged and even with her unicorn cloak and the elfin cape, her teeth were chattering. “And did the temple approve?”
I shook my head. “Not so much. They didn’t like us spending much time away unless we were on a vision quest or an official mission.” Closing my eyes against the pervasive snowflakes, I remembered back to the first vision quest I’d been on. And how it had led me to Vikkommin.
I WAS SO young. If I’d been human, I’d have barely passed sixteen. Many years before, the temple mothers had come to my family’s house in Finland, shortly after I shed my first monthly blood.
“Your daughter is destined for the Order of Undutar. We’ve come to prepare you—she will come to the Northlands next year and live with us.”
My mother had burst into tears. There was no refusal. When the gods called, you answered. If the gods wanted your children, you handed them over.
“Will we ever see her again?” Mother wrapped her arms around me, and, speechless, I leaned my head against her chest. I’d never expected anything like this to happen, although I’d been having dreams of snow and mist and storms for months on end now.
“You may come visit her in the temple once a year until she takes her oath of initiation. Then it’s up to her whether you’re welcome or not. Some of our Priestesses prefer to leave their old life behind for good. Others keep contact with family.”
The Priestess, who was so old that I didn’t even dare gauge her age, smiled softly at me. She was wrapped in a blue and white cloak, and her eyes were covered with the clouds of age. She traveled with assistants, as well as a younger priest, and they all sat in our cozy little house in the forest.
My father had gone hunting as soon as he let them in. He’d stared them down, silent, then left without saying a word. Everybody knew that if the Priests came to claim your children, all you could do was accede.
The thought of life in a temple, high in the Northlands, both terrified and intrigued me. I’d never had high aspirations, hoping only to marry and bear children and live as my mother had lived, and my grandmother.
Mother did the expected. Through her tears, she inclined her head to the Priestess. “It is an honor that one from our family be chosen. We have one year?”
“One year.” The Priestess, who had once been human, rested her hand on a silver walking stick. “Spend it
