PodCastle 614: White Noon

* Author : Aidan Doyle

* Narrator : Julie Hoverson

* Host : Summer Fletcher

* Audio Producer : Peter Adrian Behravesh

*

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PodCastle 614: White Noon is a PodCastle original.

Rated PG-13.

White Noon

By Aidan Doyle

The dogs’ barking let me know I had visitors. I reluctantly left my chair by the fire, pulled on my boots, and took my thundergun from its place on the wall. I rarely had any visitors apart from Magnus, which was how the dogs and I liked it.

When I opened the cabin door, the sun’s brightness made me squint. The sky was bluer than a husky’s eyes. Most folks enjoyed summer’s months of continual sunlight, but I preferred the peace of winter’s darkness. Nobody but a lover expects things of you when it’s dark.

I walked across the crisp snow, my breath appearing as a mist in front of me. A ten-dog team pulling a sled with two people in it drew to a halt outside my cabin. The two figures stepped off the sled, one of them crouching down to check the dogs and the other striding towards me. I recognized Kristin’s loping gait before I could make out her face. She always looked as though she was in a hurry to reach tomorrow. It had been years since I’d seen my sisters.

Kristin wore a heavy coat with wanted posters stitched onto it. All of the villains had their faces crossed out. A pair of silver thunderguns rested in holsters by her side.

“It’s a fine day for sledding,” Kristin said. Her tone suggested that only the most inglorious of cowards would disagree.

“Fine day for staying warm,” I replied.

Kristin glanced up at the sun. “Three months of sunlight. Ain’t no place for secrets to hide.”

Inga had tied the dogs to the sledding post. She was ten years younger than me and two years older than Kristin. The two of them had always been inseparable. “We need to talk,” she said.

My own dogs were still barking, so I said a few words to let them know that while the visitors weren’t exactly welcome, they were at least family.

My sisters stamped their boots and brushed the snow from their clothes before stepping into my cabin. I saw them register the fire burning during summer, a luxury I couldn’t really afford, but neither of them said anything. We all owe ourselves the occasional treat.

“Drink?” I asked, and they nodded. I reached for the good bottle. Family is family after all. I poured them each a glass of Dr. Iceheart’s Whiskey.

“How ya doin’, Elin?” Kristin asked.

I shrugged. “Getting by.”

“Ain’t nothing more dangerous than an ability to get by,” Kristin replied. “If you’re not careful that’s all you’ll ever do.” She took a sip of whiskey in preparation for what I expected would be a summer-long speech, but Inga raised a hand and Kristin fell silent.

“Mama’s gone,” Inga said.

It felt like I’d stepped onto thin ice. I was still standing, but I could hear the cracks beneath me.

“She went into Cold Man’s Dream two months ago. She didn’t come out,” Inga continued.

I poured myself another glass and sat down. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. We’d all known Mama’s recklessness would catch up with her one day. That didn’t make it any easier.

“We aim to give her the proper rites,” Inga said.

“How can you be sure she’s dead?”

Inga held out a ring of polished dreamstone. “Mama gave this to me before she left. It turned dark two months ago.”

“We need you to come with us,” Kristin said.