Leesil needed no translation. They were discussing his amber-colored eyes, and he swallowed hard at the way the second girl leaned in a little in peering at him.
At that, the first one whispered something to the others, placed one of her wrists on top of the second girl’s wrist, and mimed tying something invisible around them. This made them burst into a fresh fit of giggling; one of them was blushing so much he could see it, even through her dark skin.
They were all grinning at him.
“Ah, not this, not now,” Leesil moaned. The last thing he needed was more girls looking at him like a catch for handfasting, or marriage, or ... something else. He looked about for help.
Magiere still hung back beyond Chap. Four men among the group had separated to one side and were talking in low voices. One glanced away toward Magiere.
“Come on,” Leesil called, frantically waving her over and trying to ignore his admirers. “It’s broth, and it won’t stay warm long.”
Magiere took a few steps to round Chap and the sled.
One of the young women turned, looking to where Leesil called. She froze, and then grabbed one of her companions’ arms. All three went silent, though Leesil couldn’t see their faces anymore.
More of the short natives spotted Magiere. Their chattering faded, as did their smiles. One among the cluster of four men said something to Ti’kwäg. The guide glanced at Magiere, shook his head at the four, and uttered something short and sharp in their tongue. At a guess, it sounded to Leesil like a caustic rebuke.
“What’s wrong?” he called.
“Nothing,” Ti’kwäg answered. “She is ... very tall for a woman, and her skin is very white.”
This simple but strained reply left Leesil wondering if that was all there was to it.
Ti’kwäg intercepted Magiere. “We sleep indoors and eat hot food tonight. Tomorrow we will trade here and then move on.”
She nodded, but she, too, noticed the others watching her as she circled around them to join Leesil. Everyone except perhaps those four men appeared to accept Ti’kwäg’s assurances. The trio of girls hurried off amid whispers.
“You think you could avoid the local girls just once?” Magiere growled.
“That’s not ... I never ... wouldn’t even think ...” Leesil bumbled out.
Magiere glanced sidelong at him from the corner of her eye. Her teasing him wasn’t much relief after that strange, tense moment.
Leesil soon found himself crawling along a narrow snow tunnel into one of the ice-dome dwellings. Emerging into an area beneath the dome, he was surprised at the warmth inside. Oil burning in large bowls heated the entire room and yet the ice did not melt. The floor was lined with furs, and as he began stripping off his heavy coat, he smiled when Magiere crawled out in the open.
“I didn’t think I’d ever feel warm again,” he said.
She tried to smile back.
Chap squirmed out of the tunnel with Ti’kwäg on his tail. There was more chatter, followed by a few stern looks in Chap’s direction as several of the people came in as well.
“Their dogs sleep outside,” Ti’kwäg explained. “I had to convince them that he always stays with you.”
Chap rumbled softly, possibly offended, but he looked around with a sigh of satisfaction at all the furs on the floor. Then Magiere took off her gloves and pulled down her hood, and even before she’d stripped off her coat, gasps and more low chatter filled the space.
She froze with her coat barely off her shoulders.
The small native people stared from her face to her hands. Too many talked at once in hushed voices, though Leesil heard one sharp word repeated several times—“Kalaallisut!”
Ti’kwäg barked something at them and shook his head adamantly.
“What’s wrong?” Magiere asked.
This time Leesil was more than worried. They were in too small a space should this turn ugly. Ti’kwäg held up one palm toward Magiere.
“It is nothing,” he answered again, and then continued some argument with several of the others. A few finally nodded, but with another glance at Magiere, they turned one by one to crawl back out of the tunnel.
“They will bring food,” Ti’kwäg said, settling on the furs near Magiere. “But for better or worse, no one will share this communal space with us. They are a generous but superstitious people. Your skin ... and your hair ...”
At that he stopped and began removing his coat. Magiere finished stripping off her own.
“What about my skin and hair?” she asked.
Leesil scooted in on Magiere’s side, and Chap circled, finally settling off to Ti’kwäg’s left and nearer the entrance. Leesil still wasn’t accustomed to not being cold, but he was more interested in what the guide hadn’t finished saying.
“Stories ... legends are real to them,” Ti’kwäg went on, “such as tales of pale creatures who live out in the heart of the ice beyond where these people will go.” He shook his head. “Some speak of shapes or shadows in the blizzards that they call ‘the others,’ or the Kalaallisut. There is not a word for it in your language. It means something like a thing of ice or white that moves, but the word is not for a living being.”
Leesil saw Chap listening with rapt attention, and too often the dog glanced at Magiere. Not because of any suggested link to her, but rather because, at Leesil’s guess, he and Chap were both wondering what was out there, where she was leading them ... and why and how.
“Too many stories,” Ti’kwäg said with a shrug, “that always end with searchers who find no trace of those who went too far into the deep white. Stories for an ignorant people with ancestors who were lost, starved, or frozen out there ... or who fell through ice or were dragged off by the great bears.”
Leesil shifted in discomfort at the natives’ having viewed Magiere as something “white” and not alive.
“Do not concern yourself,” Ti’kwäg said. “They are just stories.”
Leesil knew he should be grateful that their guide had dismissed all this so readily, but he wasn’t. He was relieved when food was brought and the whole topic came to an end.
There were more bowls of the same greasy broth, along with fatty meats so tender they came apart at his touch. None of it looked appetizing at first, but then he thought he’d never tasted anything so good in his life. He had to force himself to stop after three helpings—and to almost physically pull an emptied bowl out of Chap’s jaws.
There were also bowls of clean, warm water, intended for washing by the way Ti’kwäg took one and sank his hands into it.
Magiere seemed slightly more at ease after Ti’kwäg’s assurances, but she ate only one serving. After washing up, and her long struggle getting grease off Chap’s muzzle and whiskers, she curled up beneath a pile of furs with Leesil. They slept soundly for once.
At dawn, trading commenced. Leesil handled this with Ti’kwäg’s assistance, as bartering didn’t always require a shared language. All he needed to do was indicate goods and supplies offered and raise fingers as counts of exchange for what he sought. Tobacco, herbs, and sugar proved especially popular.
Unfortunately, though the people traded dried meat and fish readily enough, they were reluctant to part with much oil. Ti’kwäg said they were storing up for a long winter.
“They are nomadic in this season,” he told Leesil as he repacked the sled. “We may come across more settlements on the move.”
By midmorning they were running beside the sled again, heading northeast across the frozen plain. Magiere appeared relieved, but as countless days passed, the temperature continued to drop. Days grew shorter and nights grew longer.