answered in the same nonchalant tone that she had used to describe the Spanish Flu. Apparently, the girl’s parents had loaned Naruana their sled on the condition that he take her with him. Thora didn’t need to ask what sort of parents would let their child travel around on a snowmobile with a drunk. The answer was obvious: parents who were even drunker than the man who took their child. But some good had come out of it. The girl had been taken away for observation since she had been present at a bloodbath and it was possible that she was infected, and at the hospital in Nuuk it was decided that something could be done to repair her damaged face. Moreover, the fact that the girl had been humming provided hope that with the correct training and treatment, she would be able to regain her voice and the ability to speak. Thus her parents had been convinced to move to Nuuk in order to be able to continue looking after the child, and they had given the snowmobile to Oqqapia and Naruana in gratitude for their help in getting medical assistance for their daughter. Thora did not presume to understand this gesture of appreciation, and settled for being pleased that not everyone was cast in the same mould. What mattered most was that all these people appeared to be slowly heading towards a better life. They could use it.
There was a knock at the door and in walked a prospective ex-husband in a divorce case. ‘Hi, am I late?’
‘No, you’re right on time.’ Thora smiled. ‘Have a seat. Everything’s ready for you. Soon you’ll be all by yourself.’
Igimaq looked out over the landscape. But when he turned his back on the cave, it spoiled the effect; what was the use of having beauty before his eyes when ugliness waited behind him? He held the bones of his daughter. He had wrapped them in an excellent sealskin that he himself had tanned many years ago and that he considered one of the most beautiful he had ever made. No one appreciated such things any longer and he had never let it out of his hands, but had saved it for a better time. Now that time had come. The skin would protect the bones from unnecessarily harsh conditions inside the cave until the end, when the land would melt and sink into the sea to the animals who would then have complete control. He and the dog would be long gone by then but that did not matter, at least not to anyone but the two of them.
The dog howled, wanting to get away from this cursed place. Igimaq had witnessed his daughter suffering and weeping, begging him to allow her to seek help at a settlement. But there had been no help to be had. When she’d entered the area, to her father’s displeasure, they had clashed, and he’d still been furious at her when the marks began to appear and her skin began turning blue. She had already grown weak, and Igimaq had consulted with Sikki, who was absolutely certain about what should be done – it would not have been so black and white now, when the prospect of work seemed to cancel out all the ancient customs. Igimaq had not refused. He had dragged his desperately ill daughter back out to the area and forced Naruana to assist him, since in time his son would inherit the obligation to his ancestors. Naruana had seemed to understand this at the time, but his swift decline after Usinna’s fate had been sealed suggested that the decision had been ill-considered – with terrible consequences. Naruana had already been having problems with alcohol, and the terrible death of his sister had finally pushed him over the edge towards self-destruction. His mother had followed close on his heels, for the same reason. Igimaq almost understood them. Although Usinna’s struggle with death had not been long, time passed slowly when you were forced to watch someone so close to your heart suffer so cruelly, turning blue in the face until blood poured from her mouth, eyes and nose. Her last breath formed a red bubble between her lips which did not burst until the wind blew a strand of black hair over her mouth. If he hadn’t been so angry at her he might have comforted her or allowed Naruana to hold her hand, which was the last thing she had begged for. By the time he disposed of her body his anger had gone. He had planned to remove the necklace with her name on it, but saw that it was gone. It had been around her neck when he’d dragged her onto the sled with Naruana’s help; it was a piece he had made for her when she was a little girl, and he knew very well that the fastenings were secure and that the chain hadn’t broken. He also knew that Usinna had realized they were planning to leave her alone out in the wilderness, and he knew his daughter well enough to know what she had done with it. She had swallowed it so that her body might be identified later, if it were ever found. It was inconceivable that he would cut open his dead daughter’s belly to retrieve the necklace – as inconceivable as allowing her to return home when she looked at him with bloody eyes and pleaded with him for the last time. The unquiet souls of the dead would never have allowed it. Naruana and Igimaq had only escaped themselves because of the strength of the souls’ malicious excitement about the new young member for their tribe. In their greed, they forgot about father and son.
The men who came to investigate the cave had never experienced any of these things personally, nor had they listened to the souls that still dwelt inside even though their earthly remains were now in research institutes in Nuuk and farther afield. They had doubtless tried to draw attention to themselves while everything was being cleared out, wailed and screamed, but with no result. The ears of those who worked on freeing the remains from the ice only heard what floated at the surface, and ignored sounds that had their origins in the beyond. Yet these people heard the wind, even though no one knew where it came from or where it went; even though they could not put their hands around it.
Igimaq turned around. The mouth of the cave had been dug out and could be seen properly now for the first time in almost a hundred years. Summer was right around the corner; the ice on the ledge above the cave had melted and the icicles at its entrance resembled irregular, pointed teeth that glistened in the sun and dared him to look into the open mouth. It was a test; how would the great hunter defeat that which had no heartbeat to be stopped? Igimaq looked into the eyes of the dog, which howled again and turned its head in the direction they had come from. He had left the other dogs at home; they could not tolerate being in the vicinity of the cave and Igimaq could not allow their howling to disturb him. He knew that Naruana would look after them if he did not return; he and his son were back on speaking terms again, from time to time. Naruana was still not happy with what they had done to his sister, but he had stopped letting his conscience eat away at him from the inside. Igimaq hoped that the boy was finally starting to get a grip on life and would decide to marry Oqqapia and have children with her. Maybe then Usinna’s soul would be saved, and if they were given the gift of a child, his own soul might also have some reason to hope.
The bones in his arms made their presence known again, clacking against each other in the sealskin bag. He arranged them as best he could but stopped when he heard the sound of faint crying coming from within the cave. He knew the voice very well even though it was softer than it had been in life. It was Usinna. Her soul called to him, and asked again why he hadn’t reached out a helping hand. Death had clearly not eased her suffering. Now innumerable other voices joined in, all unhappy with their lot and demanding release.
The dog looked into Igimaq’s eyes. It understood its master and knew that it was not bound to follow him any further. He would compel no one to join him on his final journey, because that journey had to be decided upon by men and beasts themselves. The dog looked away from Igimaq and stared into the black cave mouth. It was determined to go with him; its neck was arched and the hair stood up on its back. It took a step closer to the entrance and looked inquisitively at the hunter, who nodded his head and set off. The closer they came to the cave the louder the voices within it grew. When they walked into the darkness the voices had reached an ear-shattering volume, and it seemed to Igimaq that they were looking forward to taking revenge for their cruel fate. Especially Usinna.
About the author
Yrsa Sigurdardottir works as a civil engineer and lives in Reykjavik.
About the translator
Philip Roughton is a highly respected translator of Icelandic literature, having translated works by the Nobel Prize winner Halldor Laxness, among others. He lives in Reykjavik.
