Snow & Fire

Hal stumbled over rock and root through knee-deep snow in his desperate escape from the wolves. Fresh powder caked on his broad umbrella hat as he wound through the dense pine forest. Every fifty paces snow sloughed off before his eyes and crunched softly around his thighs.

He crushed the fireweed beneath his cloak as the yelps of the pack drew closer. His secluded cottage waited just over the next ridge, where he could lock out the predators until his next foray into the wilderness for herbs.

The cloth wrapped around his face suffocated him with a film of ice from his humid breath. As he crushed it, he heard a chime. The faint ring enchanted him in the falling snow, but a chill of fear raced down his spine.

A year after his lord’s defeat, the soldiers couldn’t have found him. Living so far from the warring feudal lords and their petty struggles for power, he hadn’t seen a soul since his lord’s land was divided.

On his haunches instinctually, he pulled his bow from his back and nocked an arrow. His pale eyes scanned the dim wood as night fell, searching for the source of the chime. For several minutes, he dared not move, despite the quickly approaching wolves. If they caught him, he would fight.

As the adrenaline faded from his system, Hal stood and froze. A pale figure ahead drifted between two trees. Only his military training kept him under control. He should have shot at the first sign of motion, but what he saw paralyzed him. A beautiful young woman dressed in a short white kimono walked between the trees.

“Hello?!” He barked into the silent winter storm as the yapping wolf pack reached the ridge behind him. A sudden gust of heavy snow swirled around him and the wolves scampered off in terror. When the snow fall resumed, the woman had disappeared.

Hal stood rooted to the spot until he couldn’t ignore the frigid air burning his lungs. Returning his bow to his back, he crushed the ice on his face wrap again and resumed his march home. At the trees where the woman had been, he checked for tracks and paled. There weren’t any footprints but his own. He shook his head and brushed the woman off as a hallucination and weaved through the wood.

His cottage sat solemnly by a frozen brook, weak smoke wafting out of the stone chimney. At the back of the house, he grabbed two logs and his hatchet. Placing the wood on a nearby stump, he raised his hatchet. A chime sounded and Hal jumped, choking the handle beneath the head, ready for a fight.

He eyed the surrounding wood and waited. No movement. No sound. Just snow. Hal split the wood quickly, returned the hatchet, hurried around the house, and stopped. A pale, dark-haired woman in a white kimono stood at his front door. She turned her head toward him, expressionless. Her blood-red lips against her white skin unsettled Hal. They should have been blue from the cold, dressed as she was.

Hal stood transfixed. Her long, dark hair obscured her face and fell below her shoulders. Her kimono lay loose about her cleavage and lacked the inner lining needed during winter. Her bare feet on the snowy stone path showed no discoloration.

“You’re going to freeze.” He shuddered for her. “Come inside. Quick.” Brushing past, he stomped off as much snow as he could in the genkan.

Unbothered by the snowstorm brewing, she waited in the snow until he waved her inside. Her teeth glistened in a frightening smile as she stepped resolutely over the threshold. Hal finished unwrapping, unaware of her terrific satisfaction, and slid the door closed with a clack. He stared after her and removed his gloves and boots as she stepped up to the main floor.

She peered into the small kitchen and dining room on her left, but sensed something in the room to her right. Hal leaped between her and the door as she stepped toward it.

“Please,” His eyes darted between her and the floor. “Step into the kitchen. I’ll stoke the fire and get some stew on it. You’ll find some blankets in the corner you can use to get warm.” Her eyes gazed past Hal with cold determination, but the woman turned gracefully into the warm kitchen with Hal on her heels.

The glowing remains in the fire pit stopped her just inside the room. Hal squeezed between her and the wall to add the fresh wood and as he passed, his forearm brushed hers. Her icy chill shocked him. He felt as if she had sucked out his own warmth. Worried for her safety, he fanned the glowing embers until flames lapped around the new wood. Fresh smoke billowed up into the peaked ceiling and funneled into the short chimney.

As the flames came to life, the soft light filled the room, and the woman stared, hypnotized. Hal stepped between her and the fire and noticed the firelight emphasized her inhuman beauty. Her skin devoid of any blemish or imperfection and her eyes. . . .

Hal shivered as he rummaged for a ladle. He must have been seeing things. In the firelight her eyes appeared solid lilac. Shaking his head, he pulled half a moldy potato, a single carrot, and a palm full of rice from the food sack.

With the edibles to the side, he took the hanging pot out to fill with snow. As he opened the front door, he cocked his head in confusion. He spotted his own footprints clearly in the snow, now partially filled, but there were no tracks from the woman. A chill unrelated to a winter night rattled him as he stared at the woman’s shadow dancing on the paper door to his bedroom.

To save as much heat as possible, he hurried in and hung the pot over the fire. Saving the unspoiled parts of the potato and cutting up the carrot, Hall stirred the icy slush until it cleared. Once steam rose from the pot, he dropped the vegetables and rice into the mixture. He opened a basket and unwrapped a few thin strips of dried meat and cut them into bite-sized pieces before adding them as well. The woman stood watching him; motionless and silent.

“Stews almost ready.” Hal watched her as he stirred the pot, wondering why she hadn’t settled in or why her color hadn’t returned. She ignored him and the food, but continued to eye him like he was something to eat.

Hal picked a lump of potato with his chopsticks and tested it. Hot to the touch and soft all the way through. He set the pot on a stone in the corner of the fire-pit to keep warm and produced two stone bowls and a tiny wood cup. With a wave of his hand, Hal motioned for the woman to sit and after a moment of silent head cocking; she sat with her legs crossed. Her improper posture made him uncomfortable, but he kept his eyes locked on the meager stew and handed her a bowl.

When their fingers met, he recoiled in surprise. Her fingers were icicles. She stared at him with yearning as he ladled broth into the cup, added crushed fireweed, and set it beside the pot.

“You should eat while it’s hot. You’re still freezing.” He sipped at his stew and savored the subtle flavors while the woman refrained from her own. Before he could spoon a full bite into his mouth, the woman tackled him, sending their bowls clattering to the floor as she straddled him.

“Wha—,” Hal tried to protest, but her icy fingers wrapped around his throat. Before he could buck her off a paralysis took over. His eyes widened as he tried to breathe, but his frozen lungs refused. Unable to blink with his eyelids iced over, he watched the woman kiss him before everything faded to black.

The fire died as his corpse cooled rapidly under her touch. A pink hue burned on the woman’s cheeks and when she exhaled, a fog of breath wafted toward the opening door where a girl of four stood rubbing her feverish eyes. The girl blinked sleepily at the woman and tilted her head with a faint smile.

“Mama?” She stumbled weakly into the room and fell with a hand outstretched for the woman.

Catching her wrist, the woman rubbed her thumb over the girl’s warm veins. The girl rolled to her back and coughed; the color draining from her face. She winced and tugged weakly to free her arm.

“Ow. Mama, that hurthsss,” she cried as her tongue froze and her pulse stopped. The woman stood and sighed, releasing another large, humid breath. She stepped over the frozen corpses and disappeared into the winter night.