Claudia White

2:00. Pitch blackness.

 A faint glow from the embers in the little wood stove gave off only a smidgeon of light.

Cory looked at the illuminated face of the clock and saw the p.m. next to the number.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon.

“Bloody hell!”

She clicked on the lamp that sat next to the clock.

“Mum, hurry up!” She yelled, knowing that her mother wasn’t there. She had gone over to Amos Argyle’s. He owned this cabin and the one next door. Cory cringed at the thought of the odd grungy little man, his pasty complexion, bloodshot eyes, yellow teeth and dry cracked lips. A shiver rippled at the memory of meeting him only a day ago.

She unzipped her sleeping bag and reluctantly slipped out. When her feet hit the cold wooden floor, she quickly disappeared back inside the warm bedding. Zipping up the thick thermal fabric, she searched the bottom of the bag with her feet for the heavy slipper socks that she had kicked off. After pulling them on, she searched for her heavy jacket that she laid on top of her when she had crawled in to get warm.  It was on the floor. The frigid feel of the fabric made her shiver. She wrestled it in through the narrow opening of her sleeping bag and struggled into it, fastened it up to her chin and then braved leaving the warmth of her bed again.

Teeth chattering, she shuffled across the small room, rubbing her arms to warm herself. First adding a log to the fire in the little pot-belied stove, she then lumbered over to the kitchen that occupied a small portion of the room. There wasn’t much to the space, just a dripping tap at the cracked porcelain sink, a blue stain circled the drain. An ancient hotplate sat on a plywood counter. Heavy shutters, designed to keep the warmth from seeping out and to stave off the sub-zero temperatures outside, covered the window over the sink. She cracked them open. Amos Argyle’s cabin was a few metres away. Light twinkled through his shutters, showing the outline of his windows, nothing more.

She couldn’t see inside the cabin, but using her telepathy, she could see inside her mother’s mind.

“Are you almost done,” she asked telepathically.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Her mother answered in kind. “Amos let me use his ham radio to contact Dr. Hawthorn in the settlement of Eureka.”

Cory remembered a discussion about having to use this method of communication since there was limited cellular phone service on the island and most people couldn’t use telepathy.

“How can you stand to be alone with that guy?”

“Be nice!”

“Inconceivable.” Cory said out loud, using her mother’s favourite and overused word.

Cory looked past the cabin. There were no flashes of light from the eyes of passing animals, no dark shadowy shapes of trees. There seemed to be nothing at all.

“How are we meant to find anything in this place?” she said out loud.

Cory had never experienced 24-hour darkness. For Ellesmere Island and all the islands that stretched across Nunavut in the far northern territories of Canada, winter was a time when daylight was only a memory; a time when the vibrant blue of the sea and sky was only visible in dreams.

Cory’s mother, Dr. Angela Newhouse, was a famed anthropologist who studied the reality behind myths and fables. The arctic god Maheetek was her current subject because of his likely connection to Athenites. These were people who could take different shapes and use animal strengths and telepathic communication among their many talents.

They were Cory’s ancestors.

As Cory stared out at the nothingness, she thought about how she had begged to travel with her mother to the arctic during winter break from school. Her mother wasn’t sure if it was a good idea but Cory convinced her that it would be worth missing the year nine ski trip so that she could experience something important to her mother’s research. But the real reason she had wanted to go was that she’d be the only one of her friends to have travelled to someplace so remote, exotic, and possibly even dangerous. It would give her bragging rights for years. This trip was her chance to be someone interesting, exciting, maybe even popular. People would look at her with admiration instead of looking past her as if she didn’t exist.

Her parents had insisted that she and her twin brother Matt keep their special abilities a secret: people won’t understand and can’t accept us. Act normal they said. So, she and Matt had to pretend to be just like everyone else. Which was fine until Cory reached year nine and felt like she melted into the scenery…nobody special.

Cory closed her eyes and listened to the lonely sounds of Ellesmere Island. Just like all places, the island has its own symphony, music that emanates from the planet itself. Athenites have long called this Earth’s music. Animals use the subtle melodies in their migrations and Athenites their travels.  Just like using the planet’s magnetic pull to determine direction, animals and Athenites can use natural symphonies to find their way. Ellesmere’s was a song of desolation, difficult to discern from the wind as it swept across the frozen landscape.

She turned away from the window, disgustedly glancing around the cabin where she and her mother would stay for several more days. Two old army-style cots for beds with a folding metal table between them, the small wood-burning stove; a rusty metal shower and wobbly toilet were located through a curtained doorway.

“Lovely,” she snarked, counting the days. “One down, five to go.” Squeezing her eyes shut and rocking her head back, she groaned. “If this is all I’m going to see, I better come up with some amazing stories to tell everyone.”

Feeling on edge, she turned back to look at Argyle’s cabin. His front door opened, her mother stepped out and walked briskly towards their little cabin. Cory smiled, and was about to close the shutters but her senses exploded with fear. Something felt terribly wrong. Polar bear? Wolves?

She knocked on the window. “Mum! Hurry!” An instant later, the snow lifted off the ground in a powerful wind, propelled in a circular current like a cyclone.

Cory raced to the door. She pulled. It was stuck…or locked. Had her mother locked her in?  She hurried back to the window above the sink and pounded on the glass. “Mum! Hurry up! Unlock the door!”

Her mother didn’t answer as the gale whipped around her. Snow and debris lifted by the powerful force was picking up speed and swirling until her mother was completely hidden inside the funnel.

Cory pounded on the glass with one hand, fumbling for the latch with the other. The latch didn’t budge. The glass didn’t break.

She frantically looked for something to break the window when the cloud dissipated, releasing all that it had carried. Cory’s mouth hung open. The air cleared, leaving traces of fog as ice and snow settled back to the ground. Everything returned to the way that it had been except that her mother was nowhere in sight.

“Mum!” Cory ran back to the door reaching it just when Amos Argyle pushed it open

“Why was the door locked?” Cory demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It wasn’t locked!”

“I couldn’t open it!”

“Well, it’s open now.” Amos glared at her.

Cory rushed past him, out to the last place that she had seen her mother. There was no evidence of a storm, only the blackness of the sky with the twinkling stars in the distance. It was quiet. The air was still. She looked around at the ground where Amos’s and now her footprints were visible. There was no sign of any other disturbance. She ran over to Argyle’s cabin, barging in through the front door.

“She ain’t here,” he grumbled, coming up behind her.

Cory spun around to face him. “What’s happened to her?”

“You saw it,” he barked back. Deep furrows dug into the bridge of his nose; his gaze conveyed not fear but rage. “Same thing that happened before. It ain’t happened for five years and I want to know what you got to do with it.”

Cory stared angrily at him, willing herself to remain calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My mother and I are here for her work.” As she spoke, she tried to access his thoughts that were a jumbled mess of stray words that didn’t join together into coherent thought.

Argyle shook his head. His beady eyes were so dark they looked black, the whites were yellow and bloodshot. Cory looked away, uncomfortable in meeting his gaze.

He stood no taller than Cory and had a slim frame, probably not weighing much more than she did. His long, wild, grey hair looked like it had never met a comb, and his wrinkled pale face, covered partially with the grey stubble of a beard, made him look more like a troll than a man.

“If you know what’s happening, you had better tell me or…” she demanded.

“Or what,” he challenged, clenching his fists and stepping closer.

A terrified shiver spread all over her body. She knew that they might be about the same size but he’d lived in the wild and knew how to defend himself. She took a deep breath, closed her blue eyes, felt a slight sting and a split second later opened huge, round, amber cat’s eyes instead. Her vision sharpened. Her focus was intense.

Amos Argyle took a step backward, curling his lips revealing what were left of his decayed teeth set in pale, sickly gums.  He didn’t look like he was about to back down.

Cory could sense his fear building. He tightened his jaw and she knew that she needed more than cat’s eyes to protect her from this human animal who was about to protect himself.

He lunged at her, fists first.

She dodged, jumping to one side, feeling his arm sweep by her ear.

Having thrown his full weight into the attack, Amos lost his balance and staggered across the room.

Cory thought fast. A parade of animals marched in her mind. Concentrating on their attributes: the claws of a bear, teeth of a panther, horns of a Springbok antelope she felt the tingle of transformation. Her face tightened, black hair covered her freckles, her cheekbones protruded sharply outward. Her eyes sank deeper into her face, sharp fangs pushed against her lips and then out of her mouth. Her hair pulled when the curved horns pushed through the top of her head. Her body became more muscular, making her clothes uncomfortably tight, and long claws replaced her fingernails.

Argyle’s threatening glare faded to a terrified grimace. He stumbled backwards. What little colour he had in his face drained completely. He looked at Cory helplessly before his eyes rolled up. He dropped to his knees, falling forward until his head hit the floor with a dull thud. It didn’t look like he was breathing.

Cory was gasping for breath.

“I killed him! She howled in a grisly roar as her panic ballooned. Without taking the time to change back into her human form, she rushed to his side dreading the thought of putting her lips on his rotting mouth to administer CPR. Placing her clawed hand firmly on his back in an attempt to roll him over, she felt his ribcage expand.

“He’s alive,” she whispered in relief, staring at his prone shape. His breathing seemed smooth and regular, and there was a subtle whistle when he inhaled.

“Amos,” she growled, pushing on his shoulder to get his attention.

He didn’t respond.

Her gaze darted around the room. There wasn’t much to the dingy interior: one bed, one chair, a tiny kitchen that resembled the one in the other cabin, and a rickety table that held the old boxy Ham Radio that her mother must have used earlier. She hurried over and flipped the switch marked “on”. No lights flickered nor did the ancient looking black box emit a sound, not even a buzz or a beep. She lifted the microphone and growled, not realizing that her voice wasn’t human. “Hello, hello… Can anyone hear me? P-L-E-A-S-E SOMEONE HELP.”  No one answered.

She looked back at Amos, who was now whimpering like an injured puppy. She called to him in a low growl. At the sound, he returned to his opossum-feigning-death posture.

“Amos!” Cory bellowed. “Answer me you stupid, disgusting, freaky little man! Where is my mother?” Hearing herself for the first time, she realized that the sounds she was making were not human. Amos was visibly trembling.

She rubbed her face, feeling the hair that covered it. Her breathing was shaky. Then with little effort she spoke telepathically to him, sending her thoughts directly into his muddled mind. “Amos?”

He looked up and stared wide-eyed at her.

“Can you understand me?”

He nodded, his head quivering.

With her gaze locked on his, she again pushed her thoughts into his mind. “Tell me what you know about my mother’s disappearance.”

Amos’s eyes looked the size of dinner plates set in his gaunt face. He managed to push himself onto his knees and raised his arms above his head. Then rocking forward, he placed his forehead on the floor and stretched his arms out in front of him. He stayed in that position chanting only one word, “Maheetek!”

Amos was visibly shaking. His forehead rested on the floor; his arms outstretched in front of him. “Maheetek.” He chanted over and over.

Cory stared at him, her mouth open. She was gasping for breath. “What is wrong with you,” she growled which seemed to make him chant louder.

She telepathically called to her mother, “Where are you? Are you OK?” No answer. “I need you!” She wobbled; her legs felt like jelly. “Dad! Help me. Matt?” She repeatedly called to her family but no one replied.  Staring at Amos who had not changed his posture, she roared. “If anyone can hear this…please help me!” Perspiration exploded out every pore, even in the sub-zero temperature.

Amos continued to chant.

Cory had never felt so alone, so helpless. She reached up to her fur covered face, glimpsing the long claws that had replaced her fingernails then looked back at Amos. Her eyes stretched open, painfully wide. He thinks I’m Maheetek; a misconception that she decided to use to her benefit. She gathered what little courage she could muster and closed her eyes, concentrating only on her mouth and nose. If she could transform only those into her human form, she could talk to him in a language he would understand.

“Get up,” she said firmly, replacing her growl with her normal voice.

He looked up sheepishly, pausing before pushing up to rest on his knees. He stared straight ahead but not at her. “The Tuurnagait have come.”

Cory swung around to see what he was looking at. She didn’t see anything. “The what?” she asked, looking back at the delusional little man.

Amos hadn’t moved, still staring straight ahead. “The Tuurnagait. They always follow you. And they were here…again!” He sobbed.

Cory’s jaw clenched. She honed in on his thoughts again, but couldn’t untangle the mess of words that were jumping around in his mind. “What are you talking about?”

Amos shut his eyes tightly and leaned over to hug his knees, curling himself into a tight ball.

Cory was trembling, her breathing coming in gulps. She knew Amos was frightened too, maybe of her, maybe of the Tuurnawhatsits, maybe of them both. Once again, she forced her thoughts into his head, “Tell me what you saw.”

His gaze darted around the room. “You are supposed to protect us from them.”

Cory swallowed hard. She wanted to scream at him but kept her voice calm. “What did you see?”

Amos squinted at her. His expression became stormy. “They can’t be seen, least not by humans. But you can see ’em… if you’re really Maheetek.”

Cory willed her body to be still, reminding herself that she still had long claws and deadly horns. Instantly she turned her eyes ruby red.

“I am Maheetek and you will help me!” She commanded in her deepest voice.

Amos buried his face in his hands. “They took that woman…”

He doesn’t even remember that she is my mother? Could he even help her?

“I know they did,” he said through sobs. He looked up with pitiful eyes.

“Mum! You’ve got to help me!” Her mother didn’t answer.

“Last time the Tuurnagait was here, you was a great white bear.” A single tear escaped Amos’s eye and dribbled down a crevasse on his cheek.

Cory’s mother had told her the story of Maheetek so many times that it was etched in her mind. The god was connected to her own Athenite ancestry. He could take the form of an animal and in many versions had been a polar bear. It was said that to see Maheetek would mean a good hunt, the birth of a healthy child or victory over an enemy. She searched her memory, wading through the various versions of the story, but there was nothing about an evil spirit that she could recall.

Amos looked sorrowfully at Cory. “They must’ve taken her just like they took my wife.”

“Your wife?” Cory tried to keep her voice level.

He nodded with no further explanation and Cory didn’t ask for one.

“Do you know where the Tuurna…,” she stumbled on the word, not wanting to mispronounce it. “Where were they taken?”

Argyle’s gaze darted around the cabin “I don’t know,” he said hastily.

Cory caught a glimpse of his thought that, for the first time, was making sense. He was wondering, after the misery that followed Maheetek’s visits, why he should trust her.

“You can tell me,” she said soothingly. “I will help you. But you have to help me.”

Amos looked at her with an innocent expression that seemed surreal on the face of the crusty old man. “You will help me find Lucy?”

“Lucy?”

His face scrunch up in anger. “My wife!” He barked.

Trembling almost uncontrollably, Cory took a deep, steadying breath. “Of course, your wife.” She wondered what kind a woman would marry such a strange little man. A strange little woman she thought. “I will do everything in my power to help you find her if you help me find my…ah…the other woman,” she said with a slight stammer that she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Amos struggled to his feet and hurried over to his bed, looking back at Cory as if he might change his mind. He bent down and rummaged underneath finally pulling out a cardboard box.

“Ever since Lucy disappeared, I’ve been collecting stuff.” He opened the box and proudly looked at its contents. “This,” he said, holding up a long thin bone, “is from that walrus you killed after I saw you the first time.” He continued to sort through his collection which included sticks, stones, dirt, a dead bird, assorted feathers, a fish skeleton and a tiny foot that looked like it might have belonged to an arctic hare at one time. “All these things I saved ‘cause I knew they would bring me good luck,” he said, giving her a toothy grin.

Cory stared with a mix of fascination and horror.

“Here it is,” he whooped as he brought out a rolled-up piece of furry animal skin tied with twine. “After Lucy disappeared, I went near crazy. I looked high and low for her. Then one day I found this!”

Cory waited for him to explain but he just stared at the thing in his hand. “What is it?”

“It took me a long time to make heads or tails of it.” He undid the twine and unrolled the skin. It was smooth on the other side. He then handed it to Cory. “It’s a map.”

Cory’s eyes bulged. It was just a piece of animal hide; there was nothing that made it look like a map.

“See here,” he said, jabbing a finger in the centre of the smooth leather, “This is the sea to the east of Ellesmere and that is the island where I bet, they live.”

“Who?”

Amos frowned. “The Tuurnagait,” he snapped.  “I’m bettin’ Lucy’s probably been held there as prisoner for all these years—I can feel it in my bones. That other woman’s probably there now too.  I’ve been waitin’ for the right time to go. I didn’t want to go in the summer ‘cause they’d see me comin’, and I was afraid to cross the sea at this time of year, especially by myself, but you’re here now. With your powers on our side, them Tuurngait’ll think twice before attacking us.”

Sweat beaded on Cory’s upper lip. She had no intention of sailing across a sea in total darkness with Amos Argyle. She glanced over at the radio, willing it to come alive so that she could contact anyone who could send help. She again tried to telepathically connect with her family. Still no reply. Her trembling increased. She was on the verge of total panic when a faint voice surfaced in her mind. “Come find me.”

“Mum?”

“Yes darling.”

“Where are you?” Cory called back but her mother didn’t answer. She squared her shoulders and looked at Amos who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Are there people living here now who have a boat?” Her voice quaked.

“Then you’ll go with me…to the island?”

There was no way she was going to do that but her had to think she was.  “Is there someone living here now who owns a boat,” she repeated in a stern voice.

Amos nodded like a bobblehead. “Ellesmere boat hire isn’t too far away. They rent boats to summer tourists but there’s always somebody there even at this time of year. My truck’s broken down but we can walk there in a few hours.”

“Do they have a radio, like yours? One that works?”

Amos narrowed his eyes. “Why do you need a radio?”

 “DO THEY HAVE A RADIO?” Her booming voice rattled the shutters.

Amos cowed, holding up his hands in a defensive posture. “Yeah, they have one.”

If I can get to a radio, I can call someone for help. She looked at the little man who she would have to trust to navigate through the artic wilderness, giving her second thoughts. “Mum! What should I do?”

“Trust Amos to help you.”

Cory’s pulse raced. “Are you sure?”

“Trust in yourself.”

Seconds seemed like minutes then hours with the only sound that of their breathing. She looked at Amos. “Take me to the boat hire.”

Back in her cabin Cory unzipped her parka and stuffed it into her backpack. After resolving to accompany Amos, she had tried to telepathically connect with her mother, father and brother several more times. None responded. Her tears overflowed.

“I have to find mum,” she said in the most determined voice she could muster. “I need to get to that radio to call someone who can reach Dad, and the only way I can do that is to trust Amos Argyle.”

Fingering her favourite gold necklace, that she never took off, she undid the clasp and held it in the lamp’s light. It sparkled. Her mother had CORY engraved on the tiny golden heart that hung from the chain. I’m coming Mum.

After putting the necklace safely in the small zippered pocket of her backpack, she stripped off the rest of her clothing and stuffed them into the main compartment as quickly as she could. Standing completely naked in the centre of the room, and shivering almost uncontrollably, she closed her eyes and focused on changing into a polar bear. She felt the stretch of her limbs and torso, the prickling of fur sprouting and growing, completely encasing her body in warmth. The soles of her feet toughened, as did her palms; she no longer felt the cold air and frigid floor. Amos’s recollection of a polar bear he’d been convinced had been Maheetek killing a walrus crept into her mind. There was a pull at the corners of her mouth. The familiar tingling of transformation passed. She looked down at her massive bear paws glimpsing long white tusks in the process.

She groaned. Concentrate Cory! Don’t think about more than one animal at a time.

Sitting down, she raised her front paws to the sides of her mouth then ran them down the length of the tusks that descended to her chest.

She looked at what she could see of the rest of her body.

Good. At least I’m mainly Bear.

She then ambled over to the kitchen sink and pulled open the shutters to see her reflection in the window.

ARGH! Bear…with walrus tusks. Never mind, they might come in handy. Grabbing her pack in her teeth, she pushed the door open and left the cabin to join Amos.

Amos stepped backward when she approached.

Catching his thought about her tusks, Cory growled and pushed her thoughts into his mind. “I’m Maheetek, and I can look anyway I please!”

She then threw her pack to him. “You need to carry this.”

Amos shrugged, gathered her backpack and headed into the darkness. “Even the gods need a little help sometimes,” he muttered.

Cory’s strides equalled several of Amos’s. She didn’t slow her pace; he trotted to keep up. After a few minutes she turned back to look at the cabins. They were barely visible in the darkness, looking more like shadows than structures.

They walked in silence for a long time. He had said it would take a couple of hours but she felt that they had walked longer than that. Her nose picked up the scents around them: a hare was in the distance, a fox close by. Caribou had been through this way some time ago.  There was the aroma of salt water, seals and walrus in the distance. The boat hire, and more importantly the radio, would be in that direction.

On they walked, trudging across the frozen ground. Cory picked up the scent of muskoxen and wolves but that of walrus and seals grew weaker. If we’re going to a boat hire, shouldn’t that smell be getting stronger?

“Where are you taking me?” she asked Amos telepathically.

Amos jerked round to face her. “It’s this way,” he said with a slight warble in his voice.

They carried on but the smells of the sea continued to weaken. The scent of wolves grew stronger.

“Good thing you can see in the dark,” Amos chuckled, “’cause I can’t see a thing.”

Cory snarled, planting her thoughts again in his mind, “Why didn’t you bring a torch?”

“Don’t need one,” he grumbled. “I got you to make sure we don’t walk off a cliff.” Amos stopped. “Or get ourselves eaten by whatever that is.”

Cory knew exactly what it was. She’d heard the shuffling and smelled the wolves but hadn’t expected them to get so close. A lone wolf was no threat to a polar bear, not even two wolves would be successful in attacking one.

Cory looked nervously around. The strong scent identified that there were more than just a couple. A pack could kill a lone bear and could easily kill a man.

“They’re stalking us!”

Amos smiled. “Lucky I got Maheetek to protect me! Let ‘em come!”

Cory wished her mother was here now! Together they could deal with wolves but alone…could she?

In only a few breaths four large white wolves came into view, their glistening teeth bared.

“Do something,” Amos hissed frantically.

Cory roared, charging through the pack, knocking one sideways and sending the other two running, tail between their legs. She ran swiftly, powerfully, feeling confident that the wolves would not be able to catch her.

Steam rose from her open mouth. Panting, she looked behind her. No wolves. No Amos. Only darkness in her wake.

She stopped and honed her hearing for the sound of footsteps, heavy breathing, or any sound of life. There was only the sweep of wind against the icy ground and the pitifully lonely music of the island. Heart thumping, breath coming in gulps, she cautiously retraced her steps, hoping to see Amos.

“I am thirteen years old,” she screamed out loud, “…stuck on an arctic island in the middle of winter trying to find my mother who has been kidnapped by…demons?” Her growls echoed off the ice. “This is impossible!” She shuffled along. “Why didn’t I go on the ski trip? Why was it so important for other people to think I was special? Maybe I’ll be special when they find my frozen body buried in the snow. Not exactly the way I’d like to be famous.”

She looked around. She was alone. Frightened. And annoyed.  Where is that man? And where exactly was he leading me? We were walking away from the sea! Good riddance if the wolves got him! What am I saying? Guilt added to her emotions.

An image of Amos’s terrified face rose in her mind when she heard the haunting cry of a man.

Cory headed towards the sound. Another howl-like cry followed by another that was louder than the last. She stopped dead, wondering if it was still possible to help Amos.

I can’t just leave him!

She loped forward. An oppressive silence followed. The thumping of her pulse in her ears was all she could hear. With every step, images of Amos being torn to pieces seeped into her mind.

The scent of wolves was growing stronger, she knew she was going in the right direction. She picked up an unrecognizable stench and stopped. Her legs planted in place, unwilling to move even though she felt the need to make them.

Yelps and growls broke the silence. She shuddered. They’re fighting over their kill. She shook her head to dislodge the thought…the image.

The sound of rapid footfall approached. She braced for the attack, preparing to transform to escape if she needed to. The wolves ran past. No signs of blood on their bodies or muzzles.

Maybe Amos is alive, maybe he fought them off. The lingering scent of Amos was only a short distance away.

Steam rose from her open mouth. Seconds later her back legs collided with her front as she skidded to a stop. An enormous white animal came into view. It stood upright, scattered clothing at its feet.

The beast turned its massive head in her direction.

It had a build like a giant white ape, but that was where the similarity ended. Standing on its hind legs, it was bigger than a polar bear. Huge dark eyes bulged out from its giant head that seemed much too big for its body. Jagged teeth stuck out from the lower jaw defining a mouth that looked big enough to swallow a man…whole.

Her parka lay at the beast’s feet, along with her boots, Amos’s torn clothing, his hat, his pack….

Cory stared in disbelief. Is that a yeti? A real yeti!

The monster turned its entire body to face her, eyeing her for several seconds. It raised its huge hairy arms, shaking them threateningly then screeched the most ear-piercing sound that Cory had ever heard.

She was frozen in place, her gaze searching for Amos.

The monster rushed towards her.

Cory ran backwards until the creature stopped. It was close enough for her to see the drool cascading out of its mouth, a piece of cloth stuck to its claws…a piece of Amos’s jacket. Sick rose from Cory’s stomach. A new level of fear consumed her.

She knew that a polar bear would be no match for the beast, not even one with walrus tusks. What am I going to do? A bird could fly away…but in the darkness? Looks like I have only one choice.

Concentrating on the yeti’s build, its sound…teeth…arms…feet…Cory began to transform. Her skin tightened when her body expanded. She kept her focus even when her rocketing height made her light-headed. Her tusks receded; her mouth expanded painfully with dozens of razor-sharp teeth cutting through her gums.  The unpleasant stench of the yeti became tolerable and her eyesight was even sharper, her peripheral vision broader.

Her change complete, she trembled but not from cold. She prayed that the yeti would leave her be, thinking that she was one of its own.

The real yeti showed its teeth…all of them…there seemed to be hundreds.

Cory did the same, thinking that this might be the way yeti greeted each other.

The creature roared. “This is my territory!”

“I didn’t mean to be here,” she said in the grunting, growling language of a yeti.

Steam clouds exploded from the yeti’s nostrils. “Then why are you?”

Cory hesitated then said the first thing that came to her mind. “I…I…I’m trying to find my mother.”

The yeti snorted. “This is the land of my kin…and only mine!”

Cory’s breath caught.

The creature lowered its head, not taking its gaze away from Cory. Opening its mouth wider than before, the yeti let loose a roar that shook the ground and sent splashes of saliva into Cory’s face. “I kill all who trespass!”

“I’ll go! I promise I’ll go and I’ll never come back!” Cory turned and ran.

“And I’ll make sure that you don’t.” The yeti charged after her.

Erupting into long panicked strides, Cory was able to keep out of the yeti’s grasp. Her ape-like yeti arms swung rhythmically, keeping her balanced.

Focused straight ahead, she could see clearly on either side without turning her head. The sound of the yeti’s feet pounding the frozen ground behind, told her how close it was.

Too close.

Cory surveyed the terrain as they thundered across a large valley of glacial ice that stretched for miles. There were hills in the distance to her left and further away, straight ahead and to her right, were mountains.

The voice again entered in her mind. “Go to the mountains”.

Cory followed the call.

The ground was uneven. Wind had swept away loose snow leaving slick icy patches. Cory didn’t falter, her clawed feet gripped the surface with each stride. She ran up small rises then down the other side with ease and sailed over wide crevasses as if they were cracks in a walkway instead of three and four metre expanses.  The wind combed through the long hair that covered her body and she marvelled at her agility, her speed and her strength when the thick ice occasionally cracked under her weight.  If she hadn’t been terrified, she might have enjoyed the sensations.

The clouds parted, letting the crescent-shaped moon and distant stars illuminate the landscape. Mountains were taller against the horizon and shapes that had been indistinguishable masses were now distinct craggy rock slopes. She ascended swiftly with the yeti still close behind.

A powerful wind picked up the higher she climbed blowing ice shards into her face. She lowered her head to shield her eyes and rushed up the slope, hoping that this would be the undoing of the real yeti.

Hours faded. Cory ran tirelessly. The yeti showed no sign of giving up the chase.

They ran, as if in tandem, across frozen stream beds and along narrow cliffs with sure footing.

Nearing the treeless peak, the voice again called to her. “You can do it!”

Convinced her mother was guiding her she yelled, “I’m coming!”

Eerie fingers of mist reached down from the summit. Without slowing her pace, Cory ran into the freezing fog, listening for her mother’s voice. She blocked out the sounds of the wind and the shriek from the yeti as she pushed into the vapour. The deeper she travelled into the thickening cloud, the clearer she heard the voice that called to her. “You’re almost here!”

Gusts whipped more violently. Cory kept going, stumbling across the rough terrain when lights flashed in front of her. She stopped, mesmerized by flickers of light.

“Who’s there?” She bellowed, trying to be heard above the howl of the wind. “

There was no answer. Just the bizarre flashes of light. She moved closer, hoping to see something that would explain the phenomena when a transparent ghost-like face materialized where the flashes had been. It had long flowing white hair, bushy white eyebrows extending down to its moustache that connected to a long white beard.

“Who are you?” She called out in her yeti voice. “Can you help me?”

The wind wailed and the apparition disappeared with a blast of frigid air that pushed Cory backwards a few steps.

Leaning forward into the powerful current, she fell to her knees, struggling to regain her footing. Once on her feet again, she steeled herself and headed in the direction the image had been.

More brilliant bursts of light were ahead. She pressed on, her progress impeded by the gale pushing against her.

The yeti roared viciously.

A searing pain hit Cory’s back. Her knees buckled. She slumped forward. Her face hit the snow.

The blackness that followed was almost a relief.

***

Darkness gave way to brightness as Cory drifted upward, away from her collapsed yeti body. Without emotion she saw blood on the back of her transformed self. The real yeti had gone.

Serenely, she lifted her arms and looked at her hands. They were human. She didn’t remember transforming. She looked down at the rest of her body that was as human as her hands. Her skin was very pale and… transparent.

Tranquillity washed over her the further she rose away from the ground. She smiled with acceptance.  This felt every bit as natural as anything else she had ever done.

Her rise levelled. There was no ground below, only a brilliant whiteness, without form or density.

“Impressive.” A deep unfamiliar voice came out of nowhere.

Calmly Cory looked around, but saw no one. “Who’s there? Was that you I saw before?

The voice didn’t’ answer her question. “Only the very special can do what you have done.”

“What have I done?”

The voice chuckled. “Ah, my dear. Many may change but you have become two.”

Cory again looked at her transparent hands and wiggled her fingers. “Two?”

“When your body on earth was in peril, your life’s energy took refuge.”

Cory shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. But you will.”

“When?”

“In time.”

“How do I get back to being only one?”

“In time.”

There was silence. Utter and complete silence. Finally, Cory called to the voice. “I was trying to find my mother.”

“It’s what we all want.”

“We? Who are we? Who are you?”

The voice didn’t answer right away. “You must believe.”

Cory was bewildered but not in the least anxious. “Believe in what?”

“Yourself.”

Cory smiled. That sounded like what her mother would say. “Where am I? Where are you?”

“I will take you home.”

Cory turned completely around. She saw only the whiteness of an abyss.

“Trust me.” The voice was now no more than a whisper. “Let your mind be free. I will guide you.”

Cory yawned. Her eyelids fluttered. “I’m very tired.”

“Then sleep. I will show you the way.”

“Who are you,” she asked, closing her eyes.

“They call me Maheetek.”

Dr. Angela Newhouse sat motionless; an untouched cup of cold coffee cradled in her hands. Her blonde hair was dirty, pulled into an untidy bun. She stared straight ahead through smudged glasses; her gaze fixed on nothing.

Dr. Peter Hawthorn sat across his desk from her. “It’s been two weeks since the fire.” He cleared his throat. “I know how difficult this is but I have to tell you the findings from the forensic team that went down to the cabins.”

Dr. Newhouse’s chin quivered.

“Your daughter’s remains were identified.” He pushed a stack of papers over to her. A photograph of the burnt cabin was on top. “I’m afraid their findings were conclusive.”

Hands shaking, Dr. Newhouse looked at the photo then the report. She sniffled. “How did this happen?”

“It was a freak storm. Amos had never seen anything like it. He told me that the wind whipped up, broke the windows, and toppled the stove. Right before you passed out, you told me that the whole cabin exploded into flames.” He paused and ran his hands through his greying hair. “I am so very sorry.”

Dr. Newhouse looked up. Her eyes wide, her expression confused. “I was only gone a few minutes, just long enough to use the radio.”

“I know. If only I had been a little bit earlier, there might have been something I could have done.”

“I don’t even remember you arriving. I don’t remember telling you about the fire.”

“It’s no wonder.”

Dr. Newhouse’s eyes glistened. Tears massed. “I was knocked unconscious so I don’t remember a lot.” She could barely get the words out.

Dr. Hawthorn’s forehead lined.

Placing her cup on the desk, Dr. Newhouse covered her eyes with her hands. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Her shoulders quivered.

Dr. Hawthorn stood up, walked back around the desk and rested a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got to get you out of here. Back to the rest of your family. The mail plane is due today. Under the circumstances, I’m sure they’ll fly you back to the mainland along with your daughter’s remains.”

“Her ashes?”

Dr. Hawthorn nodded. “It’s best that we get you home.”

***

Angela Newhouse rubbed her eyes and struggled out of bed. Shuffling across the room, she replayed the dream that woke her: Cory calling telepathically to her.

“I’m coming Mum”

“I wish you were darling.” She shook her head, trying to rattle the thought away. “I wish you were….” It had been four weeks since returning from Ellesmere Island; six weeks since Cory had died in the fire.

She stopped at her chest of drawers. Family photos rested on top. She picked up her wedding picture and managed a smile when she looked at her younger self, gripping John’s arm. How similar Matt was to his father. Both tall and dark, handsome in a bookish kind of way.

She replaced the picture and forced herself to look at the photos of the children when they were younger: Matt sitting crossed-legged on the floor intently studying a book when he was three; Cory at the same age doing finger painting, her face covered with more paint than the paper in front of her. Angela blinked to stop the tears that were on the brink of overflowing.

The door opened. John walked in. “You’re up,” he said stating the obvious. “How are you doing?”

Angela turned to face her husband and shrugged. “The same. I keep dreaming about Cory calling for help; imagining that she’s speaking telepathically to me. I think I’m going crazy.”

John nodded. “Grief does that to a person, thinking we can hear the voice or footsteps of someone we’ve lost. I’m having the same thoughts…thinking that I can hear Cory. Because telepathic thoughts are just like our own, it’s difficult to realize that we’re the ones conjuring up her voice.”

Angela looked into his eyes. Since the accident, they always glistened, on the verge of tears. “If Dr. Hawthorn hadn’t witnessed the accident, I don’t think I would have believed the whole thing happened. If only I hadn’t taken her…”

“We can’t change the past and there was nothing anyone could have done,” He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

Angela looked back at the top of her dressing table and picked up the picture of a freckled-faced Cory that had been taken only a few years earlier when she had been ten. A reluctant smile pulled at the corners of Angela’s mouth.

“Remember when she told us that she was going to become a bird and fly to the top of the tree in the back yard?”

A smile pulled at the corners of John’s mouth. “It took her a while to get the hang of it,” he chuckled sadly.

“I wish that I had taken more time to explore her abilities. I was always too concerned with fitting in, not standing out. I spent more time telling her not to do things.”

“We both did.”

Tears trickled down Angela’s cheeks. Her chin quivered looking at Cory’s impish grin and swirling golden curls.

John rubbed her back as they both looked at the image. “She looked so much like you when you were that age.”

“I was just thinking that same thing about you and Matt.” She put the photo down. “I want to remember her this way and not from the fire.”

“Then that’s what we have to do.”

***

Matt slurped his soggy cereal thinking that he could hear his sister calling telepathically to him. Dropping his spoon into his bowl, he covered his ears even though the voice had not entered his mind that way.

“Grief sucks,” he said out loud. Pushing away from the table, he took his bowl to the sink and rinsed it out. “Cory, I wish you were calling for help. I don’t know how we’d find you but at least you’d be alive.” He went back to the table, gathered his books and left for school.

Cory basked under the warmth of the heavy blanket. She cracked her eyes open to a bright light. She wasn’t where she thought she should be. She wasn’t in her room at home, wasn’t in Argyle’s cabin, wasn’t floating in a cloud or lying on the frozen ground. The last thing she remembered was floating above her yeti body.

Everything around her was white: the walls, the little table next to the bed, the warm covers. Directly across was a perfectly round opened window covered with a sheer curtain gently fluttering into the room. Golden sunlight streamed in.

A single voice could be heard outside, as if speaking on some kind of loud speaker. Cory couldn’t understand the language and it was like none she had ever heard before.

Her breath caught. Grabbing hold of her covers and pulling them up to her chin, she sat up. There was a stabbing pain in her back. She remembered the yeti…the attack.

She held up a hand. It was human and no longer transparent. She felt for the necklace at her throat but it wasn’t there. Then she remembered putting it in her pack for safekeeping. Safekeeping! The memory of all her possessions strewn across the icy ground where the yeti had destroyed it surfaced.

She looked again at her hand. How did I get back to being me? Heart racing, she listened for the Earth’s music that might identify where she was. It was a sweet, exotic, lively melody, unlike anything she’d ever heard before. A far cry from the lonely music of Ellsmere Island.

Her face screwed up. How did I get here?

Throwing off the covers, she swung her legs out of bed and wobbled upright. She was dizzy. It took a few breaths to steady herself. When she got her balance, she crossed over to the window and opened the curtains. The breeze coming in was warm.

She looked out across a bustling city and gasped. It was not like any place she had ever visited. There wasn’t a car in sight but people dressed in colourful clothing were in abundance, some pulling carts loaded with goods.

The buildings were built like cylinders, broad at their base, narrowing as they reached up so high, they seemed to connect to the sky. Others were wide at their top, narrow at their base. And some of those didn’t seem to touch the ground at all! The buildings had doors and windows with window boxes filled with flowers. Walkways connected to bridges that seemed to link everything together. Looking between the buildings she could see tree lined roads and paths. In the distance there was river and farmland further away.

Standing with her mouth agape, Cory looked up again shielding her eyes against the brilliant sun. Her breath caught when she didn’t see only one…there were at least ten!

“Where the hell am I?”

“Lemuria,” a deep voice said from behind her.

She spun around, gulping when she saw the strange being in the doorway. Its face and hands were completely covered in white hair, like an animal but it had a human-shaped face and features. Wearing a bright red pointed hat and long matching tunic it bowed its head and seemed to offer her a silver cloth.

“I am Tupilek, high priest of Lemuria.”

A priest. It’s a ‘he’, she thought, trembling in place. “You speak English.” Cory willed herself to keep calm, to slow her racing pulse.

“Yes. I have learned over time. It’s not a language that is often spoken here. I’m glad you can understand me. I’m told my Lemurian accent is very strong.”

Cory tried to smile but it came across as a sneer. “I understand you just fine.”

“We were very worried about you.” Tupilek continued. “You were injured and needed medical attention. We thought it best to bring you to the hospital rather than take you home right away.”

Cory tried to pick up his thoughts but they were in a language she didn’t understand, no doubt his native tongue. “I’ve lost my mother. I don’t want to go home without her.”

“You won’t be without your mother.” Tupilek bowed.

Cory’s eyes popped wide. “You know where she is?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll take me to her?”

The priest nodded.

Cory looked down at the green gown she was wearing then back at Tupilek. “How did I get here?” The last thing she remembered was rising into the clouds after being attacked by the yeti.

“Maheetek guided you.”

Cory’s knees buckle. “Maheetek spoke to me,” she said softly, grabbing hold of the window sill to steady herself.

“Yes, I know.” The priest smiled.

“I don’t remember how I got back to…” Cory stopped herself from telling him about separating into two. “I just want to find my mother and go home.”

“You’re well now. I’ll take you, but you must change.”

Cory shook her head. “I don’t know where my things are.”

Tupilek raised his bushy eyebrows. “You should change into your Lemurian form,” he said pointing to himself. “And put this on.” He held out the silver cloth for her to take.

Cory stared at him for several seconds before answering. “How am I meant to do that?”

The priest tilted his head and frowned then lifted the long gown to show her. “It’s really quite simple. You put your head through this hole and your arms through these, and then you tie this belt around your waist.”

Cory frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, I see.” He laughed. “You meant how to change into your Lemurian form? You are like your mother. You have the ability to become whatever you choose. That is why you are who you are.”

“You know who I am?”

“Of course. Now you must change so that I can take you home.”

Cory’s stomach felt like it was doing the tango. She was told never to reveal what she could do to anyone and yet this creature knew all about her. Had her mother told him?

Tupilek laid the garment on the bed. “You must not meet the people as you are because they already know that you’re special. You can now be the person they expect to see.” He backed towards the door.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this. Who are these people and why do they expect to see me as a Lemurian?”

“Because in order for you to go home you must show them that you have arrived. And when you’ve changed you will be able to talk to the people and them to you because they do not speak English as I do.”

He even knew that once she took the form of another she could communicate in that language. Her mother must have told him!

“I’ll step outside while you change. And then I’ll take you home.” He turned to leave. “Praise Maheetek! The prophecy lives!”

Cory stared at the door for several seconds after Tupilek left.

I’m not going anywhere with that thing! I’ve got to get out of here and find Mum. She thought of all the things she could change into to make her escape then looked out the window.

But how would I find her? I don’t even know where I am. She looked back at the door and then at the gown on the bed. He seems to know everything about me, so he must know Mum.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, clearing her mind of everything except becoming a Lemurian. Focusing on Tupilek’s appearance, she felt the essence of his being just like she had done when becoming any other creature. The tingling of transformation was instant. Her features didn’t change, nor did the shape of her body but her skin prickled when white hair sprouted. When the prickling subsided, she reached up and swept her fingers down her nose, over her forehead, her chin, her neck all covered with thick silky hair. The backs of her hands and arms were covered too. She pulled the neck of her garment out to look down at her now hair covered body then lifted the gown to see her white hairy legs and bare, hair topped feet.

***

Cory, now transformed into a Lemurian girl, walked with Tupilek down a long sloping corridor of the hospital. The halls were crowded with Lemurians. Many wore long white gowns, more wore the same drab green gown that she had worn minutes earlier and others were in brightly coloured clothes like the ones she had seen from the window. Each one bowed as she passed them.

Now that she could understand the local language, Cory picked up thoughts of the people she passed. They didn’t make a lot of sense but one thing was certain, everyone was definitely interested in her.

It’s her!

Praise Maheetek!

Just as the Sentinel told us!

I never gave up.

The chatter was giving her a headache. “Who are all of these…people,” she whispered, blocking the telepathic barrage.

“Doctors and nurses and patients like you…but not as important of course.” Tupilek chuckled.

Important? “They think I’m special?” Cory asked in a hushed tone. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Very special indeed. They are showing their respect as any good Lemurian should do,” he answered.

“Then I should bow too?”

Tupilek’s face lit up. “If you wish,” he said in a questioning tone.

They continued walking down the passage with Cory bowing to each person. When they reached the ground floor, a larger group of Lemurians crowded around.

A shiver ran from the top of Cory’s hairy head down the length of her hairy back. “What’s going on?”

“Word has spread throughout the city about your arrival.”

It was confusing but Cory stopped abruptly and bowed politely to the crowd. The crowd collectively bowed back and Tupilek leaned closer to her. “They love you already!”

They stood at the entrance of the hospital. Throngs of Lemurians cheered outside.

Cory’s teeth gnashed together. She looked at Tupilek to tell her what was going on.

“There’s no need to be frightened.” He assured her then summoned two tall Lemurians just outside the door. They were dressed in what looked like uniforms: long blue tunics with gold buttons that ran their length, an ornate crest was on one side of the top. They bowed then one stood next to Cory the other next to Tupilek.

Cory looked up and smiled in greeting. The tall Lemurians stared straight ahead and didn’t respond.

“Now let’s get you home.” Tupilek gently took Cory’s arm and guided her into the parting crowd with the uniformed Lemurians at their sides.

The gathering didn’t disperse. If anything, it was growing larger with each step.

As was Cory’s anxiety. She could feel the sweat beading on the back of her neck, her knees felt weak. I’ve got to find Mum and he knows where she is, I have no choice but to go with him.

“They are thrilled to see you,” Tupilek said, jerking her out of her own thoughts.

“They don’t even know me.” She insisted in an unsteady voice.

“That is where you are wrong. They know a great deal about you.”

“How is that possible?”

“Maheetek, praise be.”

Cory’s lips curled unpleasantly. Nothing was making sense. The people gawking at her began throwing flower petals at her feet.

The air was warm and silky, perfumed with the scent of an abundance of flowers and ripening fruit from the trees that lined the road. It was a far cry from the snow and icy landscape of  Ellesmere Island.

How did I get off the island? Cory looked from side to side, lips parted, eyes wide. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Many had begun to doubt the Prophecy,” Tupilek said with a smile.

“The Prophecy?”

“Let’s not talk about that now. It was an unfortunate time and now it’s over. You have given our citizens hope and they wanted to see you for themselves.”

“I could understand them wanting to see me if I was…ah…me, I would be different, something interesting. Now I look just like them.”

“Their faith has been restored.”

Cory looked at him. “Their faith in what?”

“The Prophecy.”

Cory felt lightheaded. “Maybe my mother can explain this to me.”

“No doubt.”

Cory’s shoulders relaxed. He really is taking me to mum!

They walked through the centre of the city. Lemurians crowded the skyward walkways and bridges, waving and throwing down so many flowers that it was raining multi-coloured petals.

They passed tidy shops selling everything imaginable. The flower shop’s cheerful window was filled with blooms, the greengrocer had bushels of freshly picked produce in front. There was a bookshop, a toy shop, a hat shop, a sweet shop and a bakery with the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread wafting out its open door.  Shopkeepers hurried out as if something extraordinary was happening.

A smile tugged at Cory’s lips. The happiness surrounding her was contagious. The city was beautiful. And she didn’t mind being considered someone special for once.

“Ah, there now. I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself,” Tupilek said. “There is so much to be happy about.”

Cory nodded. “I can’t wait to be with my mother.”

“The Sentinel is eager for your arrival.”

Cory’s smile flattened. Her forehead lined. “Is my mother with him? Or is it a her?”

He chuckled.

She frowned. “Is my mother there,” she asked again, desperation in her tone.

Tupilek waved his hand as if dismissing the question. “Of course,” he said flatly.

Cory’s smile returned but her eyes were questioning, wary.

They walked as if on parade. It was the strangest thing Cory had ever done or even imagined doing. Rounding a corner, she had to shield her eyes from the glare of light reflecting off an enormous glass-like palace ahead. It stood high above a tall black metal fence.

Cory gasped. “What is that?”

“The Crystal Palace.” Tupilek adopted a proud expression.

They stopped outside two ornate black gates with a metal sculpted bird in the centre of each one. Sentries posted on either side began to pull them open.

“Are we going in there?”

“The Sentinel is waiting.”

Cory’s eyes bugged so wide she couldn’t even blink. Now in full view, the palace looked like a gigantic diamond, standing at least three stories high and could easily cover an entire football pitch.  She tried to pick up what the priest was thinking but he simply thought “Praise Maheetek” over and over.

Tupilek smiled at Cory’s expression. “I never tire of seeing it either, as if for the first time. The purest crystal in our land for our first family,” he explained.

The palace rose up magnificently from a white stone courtyard making it look like it was resting on a cloud. Ornate columns were evenly spaced along the façade. Huge statues of birds with wings spread lined the roof.

Tupilek guided Cory inside the gates. The cheering crowd remained on the other side.

The two Lemurians who had escorted them marched over to where dozens of others dressed in the same uniform stood in three straight lines facing the gates. One joined the ranks, the other faced them and yelled “Attention!” Instantly they all stood in perfect ‘chin up, chest out, shoulders back, stomach in’ posture.

A single Lemurian wearing a long sparkling purple robe stood in front, facing Tupilek and Cory.

Cory heard the gates clang shut and her trembling returned, she felt certain that everyone could see her shaking. She prayed that her mother was here too, that everything would be fine and they would go home. But her mother was nowhere in sight.

Tupilek took Cory’s elbow and guided her forward. They stopped at the Lemurian dressed in purple.

“The Sentinel?” Cory whispered.

Tupilek shook his head. “This is Jillituk. She will see to your needs.”

Jillituk stepped forward. She was a small Lemurian woman, shorter than Cory, very thin and fragile looking. The hair on the top of her head was long and more lustrous than the hair that covered her body.  She met Cory’s gaze with watery eyes of almost the same purple as her robe. She looked down and curtsied elegantly. Tears trickled down her hairy cheek. When she looked up again, her eyes glistened like gemstones. “Please forgive my show of emotion but we have waited such a long time. At last, you are home.”

The Lemurian who had given the ‘attention’ command clicked his heels together and yelled “Dismissed!” Immediately the entire assembly turned to their right and marched off in their neat lines towards the back of the palace, leaving Jillituk, Tupilek and Cory behind.

Without a word, Tupilek bowed and then walked towards the front of the palace.

Cory turned to follow but Jillituk grabbed her arm.

“Shouldn’t I go with him?” Cory asked in a quivering voice. “He’s taking me to my mother.”

“There’s no need to worry. With the hand of Maheetek, I will show you the way.” Jillituk smiled sweetly.

Cory eyed the little Lemurian woman whose thoughts, unlike Tupilek’s, were easy to read.” My beautiful child! Praise Maheetek! The Prophecy will save us.”

Tupilek disappear through tall golden doors at the top of the steps leaving Cory and Jillituk completely alone in the courtyard. There were no furnishings of any kind, not even any plants. Cory squinted against the brilliant light reflecting off the palace and white stone courtyard. Unlike the lonely melody that identified Ellesmere Island, the earth’s melody here was welcoming, soothing. Cory took a deep breath. The air was sweet.

“Let’s go inside,” Jillituk said at last.

“Am I going home?” Cory whispered anxiously.

“Yes,” Jillituk answered.

“Will I be with my mother?”

“Of course.” Jillituk gestured towards doors that Tupilek had gone through. “This way.”

Cory was excited but still leery. Her knees wobbled with each step. She counted as she inhaled and then exhaled to slow and steady her breathing.

She followed Jillituk into a hexagonal foyer of creamy pink stone. A deep red carpet, cut in the exact shape of the room lay in the centre of the floor. An arched doorway was directly across from the entrance bordered by large golden urns. They walked through to a long, well-lit hallway.

Jillituk hurried down the passage with Cory at her heals.

Glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling gave off warm light. Colourful tapestries hung on the walls the entire length of the passage. They were pretty, peaceful images of Lemurians at work: farming, building ships, picking fruit….

Cory relaxed as they made their way. She didn’t sense danger, there was nothing threatening or even frightening in what she saw or could pick up in Jillituk’s thoughts. There was just the unknown which should have been terrifying but for some inextricable reason, wasn’t.

At the end of the passage was a large white room. The floor and walls were made from sparkling white bricks that looked like giant sugar cubes. One wall was mainly of windows that extended from floor to ceiling; a doorway in the centre opened to a garden beyond. The room was furnished with a dozen or more chairs and half again as many large sofas. All were covered with white fur and arranged in three circular seating arrangements with six-sided tables at the centre of each. One huge colourful tapestry hung on the far wall. Jillituk stopped in front of it and closed her eyes. Reclining her head slightly, she brought her hands up as if in prayer.

Cory looked at the tapestry and saw a horrific scene of violence and bloodshed, nothing like the ones in the hallway. The large, intricately woven embroidery showed a violent battle. Dozens of yetis were shown in various stages of death, some with swords thrust into their abdomens, some having their heads lopped off, others lying in pools of blood. Trees were bent as if a storm might have contributed to the carnage, but it was clear that the Lemurians were the ones most responsible for the massacre as they stood triumphant, looking noble in their victory. In the background was the Crystal Palace bathed in brilliant light. Several tall Lemurians stood in front. One was in the centre, arms outstretched light emanating from its hands.

Jillituk lifted her head, still facing the tapestry. A sweet smile defined her expression. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The grotesque images were anything but beautiful in Cory’s mind. Being chased by the yeti had been terrifying but seeing images of their violent deaths was disturbing. She glanced at Jillituk and forced herself to say ‘yes’, not wanting to offend.

Jillituk nodded. “We are very proud of it and of the battle it depicts. Praise Anemi .”

“Anemi?”

Jillituk nodded but didn’t explain who or what Anemi was. She motioned for Cory to follow her.

Cory caught Jillituk’s thoughts which were still focused on praising Maheetek and now Anemi. It was very unsettling but Cory pushed her anxiety aside.

She said she’s taking me to Mum. That priest guy did too. I have to believe them…I have too.

They crossed the room to a glass-like staircase and climbed to the next floor, arriving at a small sitting room, simply furnished with a sofa, two arm chairs and a table between them. Cory followed Jillituk across the room, desperate to see her mother. They went through a doorway and into an enormous bedroom.

A large, canopied bed was against one wall opposite three tall windows through which she glimpsed treetops. Shiny silver tables sat on either side of the bed, glowing clear crystals in the shape of birds sat on top of each one. There was a sofa and two wing-backed chairs positioned around a six-sided table like the ones in the white room downstairs. A huge crystal chandelier hung in the centre of the ceiling. Her mother wasn’t there.

Jillituk crossed the room and opened a wardrobe. Several gowns were hanging inside. “You’ll need to change for dinner,” she said pulling one out and hanging it next to the mirror on the inside of the door. She titled her head admiring the dress and sighed as if extremely satisfied about something.

“Dinner?”

Jillituk nodded.

Cory eyed her suspiciously. Something didn’t feel right. Her breath caught. “With my mother?”

Jillituk’s eyes narrowed. “Of course.”

Why are you covered in hair? What is this place? And who are those…ah…people?

“Cory,” Matt mumbled, still asleep. He opened his eyes with a start. Disoriented, but a quick glance around settled him. He was in his bed in his own room.

Stupid dream!

He rolled over but was wide awake.

She has to be alive.

Unable to get back to sleep, he kicked off the covers, slid out of bed then walked across his room, out his door and into the hallway. The room next to his was Cory’s. He steeled himself and walked over.

Please be in there.

He paused in the threshold and looked inside. Cory wasn’t in her bed. Had she finally learned the art of vanishing? He’d always won at hide-and-seek when they were little because he’d been able to transform into nothingness, still there but vanishing from view. Cory tried a few times but couldn’t master it; parts of her body still in plain sight. Her head, her hand seemingly floating in mid-air always gave away her position. Eventually she gave up trying, believing that she couldn’t do it.

He scanned the room, hoping for a sign of her. There were no clothes on the floor. The always open closet door was shut. There were no cups on her desk, no empty bags of snacks. No wadded-up papers that had failed to make it into the bin.

He shuffled to her bedside and picked up the teddy bear that had always resided there. Cory got it when she was two. Mr. Ruffles. He could the feel the love she had for the ragged little bear, even with his tattered ears and scruffy fur from years of cuddling. She probably hugged him right before leaving for the airport the day they left for Ellesmere Island. He felt her excitement. She knew she’d have bragging rights when she got home.

He hugged Mr. Ruffles, kissed the top of his head, put him next to Cory’s pillow then backed away. Slumping against the doorjamb, he hugged himself.

She’s gone. I can’t believe it but I just have to accept it.

***

Matt sat at the table in the school cafeteria across from Caroline, his girlfriend of five months. He was tall, dark and geeky. She was short, a firecracker with shocking red hair, connect-the-dot freckles and a smile that could melt paint. They didn’t look like a couple but their attraction had been instant.

“You look terrible.” Caroline said through a mouthful of tuna sandwich.

“Haven’t slept. I can’t stop the damn dreams.” Matt crunched into an apple. After one bite he put it down.

Caroline chewed for longer than seemed necessary. “Don’t you think that’s normal? You’ve lost your sister,” she added softly.

Matt shrugged. “I’ll never get over it. I know my parents won’t either. I haven’t seen either of them smile since Mum got back from the arctic. I just figured it would get easier after a couple of months.”

Caroline scrunched up her mouth and patted his hand. “None of you will ever forget her but the pain will go away. It’s not been that long.”

“I know, but I wish I could control my thoughts. Cory’s voice keeps entering my mind, like she’s calling to me.”

“I remember that happening before,” Caroline hesitated.  “You always said it was a twin thing.”

Matt and Cory had always used mind-reading. It got weird when they were around other people because they’d answer out loud unspoken questions. He’d told Caroline they knew what was on each other’s minds because they were twins. Once he even admitted that they used extrasensory perception: telepathy. Caroline had laughed at the time, not believing a word of it. Matt knew that it was easy to fool the normals, sometimes just by telling the truth.

Caroline snapped her fingers to get Matt out of his trance. “You’re just doing what we all do when we lose someone we love. My grandmother lived with us and after she died, I thought I heard her all the time. It was just my imagination because I wanted to hear her.” Caroline picked up Matt’s apple. “You gonna finish this?”

Matt shook his head. “Go ahead.”

Through a mouthful Caroline continued. “I’d imagine Grandma saying things that she’d always say: Caroline, dinner, Caroline, walk the dog, Caroline take the trash out….”

“Matt I wish you could see this place. It’s amazing.”

It was Cory’s voice again. Matt closed his eyes and rattled his head to stop the thoughts.

“It’s so warm.”

“Warm?” He repeated the thought.

“What?” Caroline had finished the apple and shot it into a nearby bin.

“Did you ever imagine your grandmother saying something that she wouldn’t have said?”

Caroline shrugged. “Don’t think so. Why?”

“I keep imagining that Cory is talking to me but I always imagine her in the arctic. Now I’m having weird thoughts about her saying something that doesn’t make sense.”

Caroline was rifling through her lunch bag. A disappointed look took over when she didn’t find anything else to eat.

“I wouldn’t stress about it.” she gave him a pitying pout. “It’ll get easier, I promise.”

***

The next morning, Matt dressed for school then lumbered into the kitchen. His father was seated at the table, reading the newspaper. His mother was standing at the sink, staring out at the garden. It was the same quiet, eerily familiar scene every morning since Cory’s death.

Late winter sunshine filtered in through the window, making it feel warm and cosy inside. Outside, the garden looked cold; a soft mist hovered above the frost covered grass.

His mother turned away from the window. “Still having trouble sleeping?”

Matt frowned. “How did you know? I’ve never said.”

“Maybe because I haven’t been sleeping well and can hear when someone else is up. I can also read your mind…remember?”

“And when your mother’s not sleeping, neither am I,” his father said without looking up.

“Oh John, I haven’t meant to keep you up.”

He smirked. “It’s not all your fault. I haven’t had so many bizarre dreams since…well…ever.”

Yawning, Matt pulled a chair out from the table with a screech and sat down heavily. “Me too.”

His father collapsed the paper onto the table. “Actually I’m only having one dream…over…and…over,” he drawled.

Matt suddenly looked wide awake, catching his father’s unspoken thought.  “About Cory?”

His father nodded once and went back to his paper.

His mother looked at the fireplace on the other side of the room. Cory’s ashes were in an urn on the centre of the mantel. A single tear escaped her eyes. “It’s all part of grief.” She turned back to face the window. “My dream is that Cory’s in some odd place and she has white hair covering her so it really doesn’t even look like her but I know it is. You know how dreams are.”

Matt looked at his father who was thinking about his own dream: Cory with white hair covering her face. “I’m dreaming the same thing,” he said in an astonished tone.

His father grunted, focused on something in the paper. “Did you know that the Prime Minister is suggesting a special holiday this month. Something called Late Winter’s Respite.”

His mother shook her head then plunged her hands into the sudsy water to do the washing up.

Matt was visibly shaking. “Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re having the same dream?”

His mother dropped a cup in the water. It clanged against the porcelain sink. She fished it out. It hadn’t broken. “It is but we can read each other’s minds so it’s not that surprising that we share thoughts.” Her head dropped forward. Her shoulders bounced when a subdued snuffle escaped.

Matt pushed away from the table and went to her. “You okay,” he asked, patting her shoulder.

She reached up and squeezed his hand. “I just wish I could’ve done something to save her.” She sniffed back her tears. “But I don’t remember anything. I barely remember flying home.”

“Maybe you should call Dr. Hawthorn. He might be able to help you understand what happened. You know, fill in the blanks.”

She turned to look at him. Her eyes were red, her lips trembled. “I’ve never thanked him. I should at least do that.”