The scent of perking coffee met his nostrils, and he was suddenly aware that he had passed by both breakfast and lunch. Determined to make up for these missed meals, he turned away from the washbasin to change into a fresh set of coveralls and go to the nearby wardroom.
Chapter Two
A full moon cycle had passed since Ootah’s terrifying confrontation with Tornarsuk on the ice pack. In this time span, the Inuit hunter had succeeded in closing up his camp and moving his family out of that cursed spot. They traveled to the north, finally halting on the shore of the great ice sea known to the whites as Lancaster Sound. Here the fates were with him, and his harpoon took down a fat walrus. The meat of this animal was sweet and nourishing, and with their bellies finally filled, life was once again bearable.
Even Ootah’s father seemed a bit stronger. Though the cough that brought blood to his lips was still with him, Nakusiak was as feisty as ever. Demanding that he share equally in the workload, the old-timer helped build their snow house Quick to remind his son to locate the entrance to the igloo below ground level, so that the cold air that would otherwise enter their living space would be trapped, Nakusiak supervised the placement of the last of the smooth ice blocks into the structure’s rounded roof. Afterward, he assisted Akatingwah in butchering the massive walrus Ootah had triumphantly dragged into their new camp.
With the first winter storm of the season howling madly outside, they settled in to wait for the icy tempest to vent itself. Nakusiak was more than content to take his young grandson aside and teach him the ancient Inuit throat songs. While these resonant tones filled the interior of the igloo, Ootah stripped off his clothes and slipped under the thick fur blankets with Akatingwah close at his side.
His mate’s skin was warm and soft as they embraced in the way of a man and a woman. His fingers’ touch aroused the sensitive buds of her ripe breasts, and as her breath quickened, Ootah slipped his manhood deep inside her. With Nakusiak’s spirited song providing the perfect accompaniment, Ootah pulled his hips back until only the tip of his erect phallus touched the lips of his wife’s pulsating love channel.
Sensing her need, he slowly plunged his hips downward until his all was given. He repeated this process until an ever-quickening rhythm was established.
Akatingwah moaned softly in delight, and as her embrace tightened, Ootah sensed a sudden flow of hot fluid from deep inside her. It was then that his own seed rose, and a rapturous pleasure beyond description filled his being as he deposited the milk of life into her wet depths. If the fates so willed it, an infant would next be crawling from Akatingwah’s loins when the summer returned to the land of the Inuit.
With his mate still locked tightly in his embrace, Ootah listened as her previously pounding pulse slowly returned to normal. While beyond, his father’s monotonous song continued, the distant howling wind a fitting accompaniment.
Ootah’s dream was soon in coming. In this vision, he was conveyed high into the rugged mountains that lay to the east of Arctic Bay. It must have been summer, for no snow lay upon the ground. In its place, an unending carpet of bright red and gold wildflowers stretched to the horizon. As he climbed down to the floor of a particularly luxuriant valley, he spotted a herd of musk oxen grazing before him. Upon viewing the Inuit, the round-shouldered, shaggy beasts immediately took up a defensive circle, with the lead bull lowering its horned head and stepping forth to do battle. Strangely enough, even though he wasn’t armed, Ootah advanced to meet the bull’s challenge.
The razor-sharp horns of a fully grown musk ox were not something to take lightly. Many times Ootah had seen predators as crafty as the wolf and as strong as the bear fall victim to a fatal gore wound. Yet completely oblivious to the dangers involved, he found himself walking down to meet the beast, with not even a stick to protect himself.
Ootah was actually close enough to smell the musk ox’s strong scent, to see it’s bulging, red-veined eyes, when the first wave of fear possessed him. This fear turned to sheer terror when the beast bellowed loudly and took several bold steps forward. Suddenly halting in his tracks, Ootah sensed his precarious position.
Yet as he turned to run away, he found that his lower limbs were inexplicably weighted down, so that even the most tentative step was impossible to achieve.
Again the angry beast bellowed, and just as the bull lowered its head to initiate the final charge, a deafening boom of thunder filled the air. Looking up into the sky, Ootah viewed an intense, fireball of glowing red light that blotted out even the sun with its intensity.
Another thunderous peal filled the air, and as this blast echoed in the distance, the fireball flared up and then dissipated, until not a trace of it was left above.
An icy gust of wind hit him full in the back, and as Ootah returned his attention back to the musk oxen, his eyes opened wide with disbelief upon noting that they too had completely vanished. In their place was a wide, circular lake. This pond was completely frozen over, except for a tiny opening in the pool’s exact center. Curious as to what lay exposed inside this hole, Ootah walked over to examine it more closely.
The Inuit was somewhat shocked to find a large eider feather floating on the circular pool’s surface.
Viewing this familiar object, that was designed to fly up into the air and warn the hunter of a surfacing seal, filled Ootah with dread. Ever mindful of his last terrifying seal hunt on the pack ice a week ago, he attempted to back away from the open water. Unfortunately, this simple feat proved impossible, for his boots were frozen solidly to the ice below.
An angry gust of frigid wind scoured the valley, and finding himself chilled to the bone, Ootah had no choice but to look down to the waters of the pool.
Goosebumps formed on his shivering skin as he spotted a myriad of bubbles swirling to the surface. And below, he could just make out a dark menacing shape rising from the black depths. Unable to keep his eyes off this mysterious object, he gasped in horror upon identifying it as a human being. Its puckered hand beckoning him forward, and Ootah cried out in revulsion as he sighted the floating body’s head — for it was that of his dead mother!
It was at this point in the nightmare that he awoke.
The vision of his mother’s white, unseeing eyes was still clear in his consciousness as he stared out into the black depths of the igloo. Surely this was no ordinary dream, but one that had been placed before his eyes by the great deceiver himself — Tornarsuk!
Chilled by this realization, he scanned the darkened interior of the snow house as if seeing it for the very first time. The bare light of a soapstone lamp flickered alive at the igloo’s center, providing just enough illumination for Ootah to see the thick fur pelts covering the adjoining pallet where his father and son slept. Nakusiak’s snores filled the circular room with a resonant roar, while somewhere beyond gusted the ever-present howling wind.
Unable to fall back to sleep, Ootah decided to see how his dogs had weathered the storm. Slipping out of the covers, he dressed himself in his double-thick, caribou-skin parka, pulled on his boots and mittens, and silently crawled through the igloo’s sole exit.
Outside, he was met by a blast of numbingly cold Arctic air. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he peered over a newly formed snowdrift and caught sight of the dawn sun as it just broke the distant horizon. Even at noon, the muted orange ball would not climb much higher into the sky than it already was. Ootah was well aware that all too soon it would not even bother rising at all, as perpetual night ruled the Arctic winter.