(a short story)
by, K.S. Lewis
Copyright
The Icit (a short story)
Copyright 2013, K.S. Lewis
Table Of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Table of Contents
The Icit
About the Author
Acknowledgments
THE ICIT
by, K.S. Lewis
There was a hamlet named Ruchk which has been forever buried beneath winter's snow. No flowers grew from the ground. No green was seen in the woods, which hugged the land on all sides. No sunlight could pierce that thick wall, the heads of the trees forever bowed beneath the weight of the cold. And through those woods, past the fox dens and bear caves, and whispering beneath the gaze of the Icit, was the Hunter's house.
The Hunter's house sat between the hovel of Perga, the grey witch, and Ruchk. Back and forth, between the two, the Hunter walked. And so it was that he taught his daughter, Rina, to walk it too.
For protection, and because it would be Rina who one day delivered the witch's goods, the Hunter and Perga struck a deal. A magical rope, spun from red fox hair, twined its way round trees to lead the girl safely along. So long as her hand never willingly let go, nothing, no fox, no bear, and not even the Icit, could harm her. And the Hunter and Rina smiled, and laughed, and even in a world with no flowers or green things, they lived happily in their cabin delivering goods and hunting for meat.
And then one day, sitting on her stoop, Rina waited for her father's return.
And the day stretched long and turned to night. And night lost to dawn. And so, after another day, teeth chattering and stomach twisted into knots, Rina knew her father was lost in the dark woods.
She curled up in her bed, dampening her pillow with tears, and slept. The next morning, hair a wild bird's nest, and eyes puffy and red, she sat and said aloud, "I will go to Perga."
There was no one in the cabin to answer her back. She placed one foot on the ground and the mice skittered back into their holes. Rina was done with crying. It was up to her to bring her father back. She slipped on her dress and coat, leggings and boots, mittens and hat, and walked out into the snow.
She followed the red rope to Perga's hovel - a small room carved into the side of a hill. She raised her fist to the wooden door and pounded against it. Her tiny fist went thump thump thu-
A gnarled hand snagged Rina's wrist. Milky eyes peered with unnerving sharpness into her face. "Rina, dear," Perga rasped. "Why have you come?"
Rina swallowed thickly. "I—"
"No." Perga shook her head, her weak braids swaying. "No, there's no need to speak. It's your father, of course. Yes, Perga knows. The Icit, dear, the Icit..."
The old witch dragged Rina into the room. Heat washed over her like a wave, and she toyed with the buttons on her coat with her free hand. Perga's hand was like a vise and she muttered, "The Icit. Yes, the Icit," under her breath as she stopped them in front of the roaring hearth. "Creature of snow and ice. Creature that beckons and steals, turning men into her beasts and eating all others. Yes, the Icit."
Even faced with the fire, Rina shivered. Fear raced laps up and down her spine. "Yes," she admitted softly. "The Icit is the only one who could have taken Father."
Perga nodded deeply, finally releasing Rina's hand. She leaned down low, and with no hesitation, stuck her hands into the crackling flames. Rina's eyes went wide, and she covered her gasp with her hands. But Perga paid her surprise no attention. Instead, hands now cradling three small pieces of coal, she brought her lips in close and blew and chanted and hummed deep in her throat.
The air grew thick. Rina's eyes drooped. Magic was a heavy thing, and it wrapped around the room like a great wind, rattling strings of bones and stacks of twigs. The pieces of coal sang back and stayed burning. With amazement, Perga poured them into one of Rina's hands, and all Rina felt was a pleasant warmth.
"Now listen carefully," Perga warned. Rina listened, jaw clenched. "Each stone can be changed to meet one need, do you understand? You must only hold it tight in your fist and tell it what it must do, and it will do it."
"Thank you, Perga," Rina effused. And even though the witch smelled of oddness, and was stooped and wrinkled like leather, she hugged the woman round the waist. "I will rescue Father."
Perga patted Rina's head until the girl finally straightened her back and left.
Rina followed the rope. Her breath puffed out in grey bursts, and her nose was quick to turn pink. But the cold was nothing new to her, and didn't slow her steps. No, what worried her was the dark, and that, to find Father, she may need to let go of the red rope that kept her safe.
Inside her pocket sat two of the magical stones. In her free hand was the third. She clenched her fingers around it, the warm pulse seeped through the fabric of the mitten and pressed into her palm.
I will summon a great fire, Rina thought. The Icit, as a creature of winter, must be weak to fire.
Secure, at least, with one thought, Rina walked silently on. The dark was a quiet thing as well, and it loomed around her and watched. Some may say the dark has no eyes to watch with, and those are people who have not walked the woods like Rina. She knows the dark has eyes, hundreds and thousands, and it watches and waits with the patience of fox, sly and full of mischief.
She was just thinking about what she would do if she reached Ruchk with no sign of Father, when, while crossing through a part of the woods where a steep ditch lay, she heard a howling cry from below.
"You there. Little human."
Rina swallowed, tightening her hand round the magic stone as she leaned over to peer through the gloom. Just visible, at the bottom of the steep side, was a white wolf, mouth open and panting. "Yes," the wolf called again. "Yes, you there. Can't you see I've fallen down here?" The wolf pawed uselessly at the side of the ditch, claws scraping against the icy rock and dirt. "Help me from this pit and I won't eat you!"
"Do you think I'm silly?" Rina called. "You can't eat me if I let you stay in the ditch."
The wolf whined, flinging itself against the side. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're right, I won't eat you no matter what. Let me up, little human. Help me."
Rina peered around her. She did not let go of the red fox rope, but did lift the stone closer to her lips. Her eyes narrowed on the wolf. "If I let you up, you must do something for me in return."
"Anything!" The wolf whined, dragging it out into a pathetic howl.
"You must promise," Rina called back. She was wise enough in the ways of magic to know that one must always demand a promise.
"I promise."
"Stand back," Rina warned. The wolf backed away from the side. Rina whispered to the stone, "Become a pile of rocks high enough to save the wolf." Then she tossed it over the edge. In the air it grew, and grew, and grew, and then, with a great crack that made Rina's ears sting, it crumbled into a rock slide that fell into the ditch.
In one great leap and bound, the wolf was free, rolling and shaking in the white snow. "Thank you, little human," the wolf grinned. A clump of snow was on its nose. "Now tell me, what can I do for you?"
"I am looking for my father, the Hunter. He's been taken by the Icit. I need you to find him and then come tell me where he is."
The wolf shook its great coat and whined. "The Hunter and the Icit, how troublesome. But I will do it, since I promised." In a moment the wolf was gone, blending quite easily into the cold and dark.
Rina shook herself, fishing out her second magic stone, and continued along the line of the rope. Now, with two of them searching, she was beginning to feel quite hopeful that she would be able to find Father and defeat the Icit. The magi
c stones were powerful indeed.
"Little miss."
The voice was so soft and gentle, that Rina didn't even hear it at first, and continued to walk. But then it came again, "Little miss, a moment, please," and Rina stopped, searching for the owner of the whisper. It took her several minutes, but finally she found it. It was a rabbit, except not a rabbit. Merely the shade of one, shivering with its soft, pale, phantom light behind her feet.
It flinched back when Rina turned, long ears twitching. Eyes flooding with sympathy, Rina bowed to the shade. "There's no need to be frightened anymore," Rina said, not unkindly. "Nothing left in this world can hurt you now. What keeps you tied here, instead of running to the Beyond?"
"The wolf who ate me," sighed the rabbit. Rina's stomach sank. Some of the guilt must have shown in her eyes, because the rabbit shook its head. "It's alright. A wolf or fox or owl was going to eat me one day. And the wolf was quite remorseful."
"I'm still sorry," said Rina. But she understood what the rabbit was saying, since her father was the Hunter, and Rina learned hunting from him too. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Oh, yes," said the rabbit. "And then I know how to find the Hunter, whom the Icit snared."
Rina's eyes lit up. "Tell me, and I will help you."
"It's only that I've left behind many children, you see. And I had not yet taught them the path to the great berry bushes, or acorn hollows. Could you, perhaps, show them in my stead?"
Rina thought carefully, rolling the stone in her hand, and spoke, "Become a rabbit for a time, to teach the children where to find berries and acorns. Protect them until they can run themselves."
And so she dropped the stone to the ground, where it grew a fat body and long legs and ears. A copper colored nose twitched, and two simmering, coal eyes winked at the girl and shade. It scampered through the trees.
"Oh, thank you," sighed the rabbit. "One day a wolf or fox or owl will eat my children, but I do like the thought of that more than hunger."
Rina nodded politely.
"I will find the Hunter," said the shade, hopping away from Rina. "I will send him to you here. Do not move."
It was not easy to wait in the woods of Ruchk. Especially not when the time stretched long, making the shadows grow and leer. Not when the snow began to fall, pressing the cold more tightly against small bodies.
Rina jumped lightly in place, eyes searching every which way for signs of Father or the rabbit shade. She had only one magic stone left, and the dark and snow only made the Icit stronger. The hand holding the red rope throbbed with pain, so tight did she grip it.
Rina stared down on her last magic stone.
"I will save it," she said to the darkness. "Perga can break the curse on Father. I must save this for the Icit."
No sooner had the words left her lip, when something tall and pale sidled into view. At first, Rina's heart stopped with fear. But slowly, the closer the thing got, the more Rina recognized it for what it was.
A buck, flank pale as snow, antlers like the silver of ice. But the eyes...
The great deer stopped, feet from where Rina stood, and stared at her with the golden eyes of her father.
"Father!" Rina cried, horror making her voice hoarse. We must never hunt the white deer, she had been told, so many a time by her father. And now she knew - they were the men the Icit stole.
The Hunter's great head turned back, towards their cabin. Go, was what he was saying. Leave me. I'm lost.
Rina bit her lip. Even as the snow picked up, blurring her vision, warning of the coming danger, Rina did what she had never done before - she let go of the rope.
"Fath-" Rina cried, arms outstretched, stepping away from her protection into the sudden arrival of a vicious grip. Something warm dribbled down her front. Something sharp pierced her shoulder.
The Icit. Creature of winter and snow, who steals the men and eats all others.
The Icit was a tall, slender figure, shaped like a comely woman in dressings of white and silver. But the hands holding Rina's arms were shaped like the talons of a hawk, and the teeth sinking into Rina's flesh were as sharp as a wolf. Icy, blue eyes were lifted in victory, as they stared up into Rina's eyes.
Rina, so frozen she knew she could not speak, mustered the last of her strength. Curling up her arm, she slipped the stone past her lips and swallowed. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes, as the Icit devoured her. Her last thought, as the darkness laughed, was only, Make me a great fire to fight the Icit's power.
The magic stone answered Rina's last wish, and even inside the Icit's stomach, she became a being of great warmth and fire. Screeching horrible weeping throes, under the large eyes of the Hunter and other bucks, emerging now from the shadows, the Icit's power waned low. Rina, now half of the Icit's being, did turn the Icit's hair red, body golden and eyes brown as she won control.
The darkness fled from the light. The snow melted away into rivers. Color sprouted from the earth. The white pelts of the wolves turned grey, and the rabbits brown. The great trees moaned and stood tall, celebrating by sprouting bright green leaves.
The Hunter pushed his great nose into the Icit-who-was-no-longer-the-Icit's side.
"For a time," said Rina-who-was-no-longer-Rina, "Let us live merrily like this."
And so Rina and the Icit would forever battle, winter's snow and spring's warmth. But no matter, the white deer was held precious at their side.
About the Author
K.S. Lewis is a lover of fantasy, fairy tales, adventure, anime, and role-playing games. Find out more at https://www.authorkslewis.com. She lives in Chicago, IL.
Acknowledgments
A big thank you to my friends and family, for always being so supportive.
And thank you for reading 'The Icit.' Let me know what you thought, if you'd like, by dropping a review. I hope you enjoyed it.