Chapter 2
Ice swung open the side screen door and stepped onto the landing adjacent to the medicine man's kitchen, grateful that Nik had left the inside door open in anticipation of his arrival.
"Take off your shoes," a voice called from around the corner.
Taking a seat on the two steps leading to the kitchen, Ice loosened his laces and kicked his boots off, then entered the room where his teacher and mentor stood at the stove using a wooden spoon to stir something in a frying pan. A plaid flannel shirt hung over the man's khakis and his customary gray braid was just a quick ponytail this early in the morning. "I knew you'd be hungry," Nik said, glancing at Ice and then pressing the lever on the toaster. "There's butter in the fridge. Jelly, too, if you want it."
"Thanks, I'm starving." Ice opened the refrigerator and found the butter but left the jelly behind since it was grape. The simple smell of toasting bread made his mouth water. He opened the silverware drawer and got out knives and forks, noticing the slight tremor of his hands. He'd remembered something on the way here—something Nik had taught him a few years back about the North Wind. Logic told him not to worry, but the mystic in him was troubled.
"So start from the beginning," Nik said, scraping scrambled eggs onto two plates.
"Uh… I have a question first," Ice said quietly with his back to the older man as he set the butter and utensils on the table. "If you don't mind." He turned to face Nik, meeting the medicine man's eyes for a moment before the toast popped up.
"Shoot," Nik said.
Ice took a seat at the table and Nik placed a plate in front of him with eggs and two pieces of toast, then reloaded the toaster. Unsure how to ask the question—or if he truly wanted an answer—Ice blurted out, "I didn't dream this."
Nik shot a confused glance his way. "So what's the question?"
"The North Wind was there. I felt the drops from melting icicles on my face." He pressed his right shoulder, grimacing. "I'm going to have a bruise here, where he hit me."
The medicine man leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "I got it. You were visited. Physically. It wasn't a dr—" Suddenly his eyebrows rose. "You're worried about the Windigo curse?"
Ice nodded, slumping in the chair. He set aside the lid for the butter and picked up his knife.
"Everything I've ever heard or been taught, in relation to becoming a Windigo, speaks of dreaming about the North Wind. A visit is completely different from a dream," Nik assured him, bringing his toast to the table. "I believe you're right, Ice. The spirit manifested itself, you didn't manifest it subconsciously."
Ice breathed a sigh of relief; Nik's explanation made sense. "Okay, cool." Although it was hard to imagine he could become a cannibalistic monster, he'd seen enough things in his training—things that defied logic and explanation—that he never ruled anything out. His stomach growled, reminding him of the food in front of him, and he took two bites of his buttered toast then put it down to butter the second piece. "So anyway, I did everything the way I always do," he answered Nik's initial question. "The way I was taught," he added.
"Do you remember where your thoughts were before the spirit showed up?"
Finished buttering his toast, Ice shoveled in a forkful of eggs without answering. It may have appeared like he was thinking, but he knew exactly what his mind was on when the North Wind showed up, he just didn't want to admit it. "I certainly wasn't thinking about the North Wind," he finally said.
"If you know what wasn't on your mind," Nik smiled, motioning for the butter, "then you probably know what was on your mind." He regarded his apprentice with raised eyebrows.
Sliding the plastic dish across the table, Ice lowered his gaze to his plate. "I wondered if I'd chopped enough wood, since it was colder than I anticipated. I was outside when the wind gusted up the hill."
"Right, that's what you said on the phone. Is that it?"
Ice's cheeks felt hot; whether a product of the warm house and food, or a flush of embarrassment, he wasn't sure, but suspected the latter. "Got any juice?"
Nik nodded, his attention on his toast.
Somehow, standing at the refrigerator made it easier to fess-up. "I also was thinking about a girl." Ice didn't see how that could matter, but he also didn't understand why the manitou had visited him, so any detail could be important. He slowly poured a glass of orange juice and then returned to the table.
The medicine man didn't comment right away, keeping his eyes on his breakfast, but his forehead creased. His next question was rather unexpected. "Does this girl have a boyfriend?"
"No… I… she," Ice stammered. His automatic reaction was to reply with 'I don't know,' after all, he didn't go to school with her. Then he realized, since she'd asked him to the dance, she couldn't have a boyfriend—at least she shouldn't. "No," he said firmly, feeling like an idiot.
Nik had been watching him curiously, his fork poised over his eggs. Once Ice provided a concrete answer, the older man muttered, "That probably rules out vengeful thoughts," then returned to eating. "What did the manitou ask? If you needed something fixed?"
"A solution to a problem. A remedy, I think it said."
"Sounds to me like someone else summoned the manitou and it was drawn to your 'open frequency,' so to speak." Finished with his eggs, he put his fork down.
"Like another medicine man?" Ice popped his last bite of toast into his mouth, glad they'd moved past the subject of Lynn.
"I think it would have to be," Nik didn't look pleased at the possibility. "Mmm, I guess I need to get on the phone and find out what's been going on around us."
Ice studied his mentor thoughtfully. "So if I didn't dream the North Wind, is it still a bad omen?"
Nick rubbed his forehead and then looked at Ice with his mouth twisted into a grimace. "The North Wind is an evil spirit. I've never known of its presence to bring anything good."