TWENTY-SEVEN
iskyla
I needed a place to warm up and a way to start asking around, so my best option appeared to be an inn just off the main stretch of road, aptly named the Frozen Inn, according to the warped sign that hung above the door.
Icicles hung precariously from the roof of the large square building, and the white paint chipped off the sides to reveal the gray wood beneath. The door creaked painfully loud as I opened it, and a gust of cold wind came up behind me and helped push me in.
Inside was a rather small waiting room, with worn mismatched furniture poised toward an old fireplace that was barely going. The carpet was a faded red, and the wallpaper looked like it hadn't been changed in a century.
A staircase with a dilapidated railing ran along the far wall, looking more like it belonged in an old farmhouse than a place of business. In fact, if it wasn't for the bar that wrapped along the east wall with a bell on it and a bulletin board behind it, I would've worried I'd walked into someone's home.
The door behind the bar swung open, and a girl of about fifteen came out. Her full lips and amber eyes were set in a surly scowl.
Five or six necklaces hung around her neck, all of them appearing handmade with leather straps and wood or ivory pendants. The thick straps of leather and hemp she wore around her wrists matched.
"Unnusakkut," she said, which sounded like oo-new-saw-koot. It was Inuktitut for "Good afternoon," but with more boredom and annoyance than I'd heard it pronounced before.
"Afternoon," I replied, since my Inuktitut was never that good.
In school, we had to learn English and French because most of our changelings were in Canada or the U.S., and we also learned Swedish because it was the language of our ancestors. We had some interaction with the Inuit people who lived around Doldastam, so we were taught basic Inuktitut, but I'd rarely used it, so my fluency had gone way down.
"Oh." She looked up at me in surprise as I unwound the scarf from my face. "Most of the people that stop in here are Inuit."
I pulled off my hat and brushed my hand through my hair. "I'm from Doldastam, actually."
She narrowed her eyes at me, and I realized that her left eye was slightly larger than the other, almost imperceptibly. Her nose was petite and turned up at the end, and her skin appeared fair and rather pale. Unruly dark blond hair landed just above her shoulders.
"You don't look like you're from Doldastam," she said, but I'd already come to the conclusion that she didn't exactly look Kanin either.
"Well, I am."
That's when I noticed the WANTED poster tacked up on the bulletin board behind her. The one that Bain had shown me. Right next to Konstantin Black, I saw a black-and-white photo of my face staring right back at me, and I realized that I might have made a mistake coming in here.
"Are you a half-breed like me?" she asked. Her eyes brightened and she stopped slouching.
I nodded. "I'm Kanin and Skojare."
She smiled crookedly and pointed to herself. "Omte and Skojare."
I smiled back, hoping to earn some goodwill. "It's so rare to meet people that share a heritage like that."
"Maybe where you come from, but not so much around here. Iskyla is where they drop all the trolls they'd rather forget about--unwanted babies, outlaw changelings that can't hack it, half-breeds that don't fit in anywhere." She shook her head. "That's how I ended up stuck here."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"My parents were unmarried royals that didn't want to lose their inheritance because of a bastard child, but apparently my mother loved me too much to just let me die out in the cold." She rolled her eyes. "So they dropped me here when I was a week old, and the innkeeper has been putting me to work for my keep ever since."
Truth be told, I didn't know much about Iskyla. It was very secluded, so we rarely had reason to talk about it. But since it was one of the most isolated towns in the entire troll community, it made sense that it had become a collective dumping ground.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, and I meant it. It had been hard enough for me growing up as a half-breed with parents who wanted me and loved me. I couldn't imagine what it must've been like for her growing up in a place like this without anyone.
She shrugged. "It could be worse." Then her forehead scrunched up and she tilted her head like something had occurred to her. "Hey, didn't the King die or something?"
I was taken aback by the casual way she broached the subject. Living in the Kanin capital and working for the kingdom, I'd gotten so used to the royalty being talked about with great reverence. But she seemed only vaguely aware that we even had a King.
Here in Iskyla, things were obviously very different. It was so disconnected from the rest of the kingdom--geographically and socially. It was like its own private little island.
"He did," I said somberly.
"I heard that nobody in Iskyla was allowed to go to the funeral," she said, then looked down and muttered, "Not that any of us would've gone anyway."
"Ulla!" a voice barked from the back room. "Stop wasting the guest's time and show her to her room."
The girl rolled her eyes again, this time even more dramatically than before. "Sorry. I'll get your room key."
She turned back around and went into the back room, where she and the innkeeper immediately began sniping at each other. As fast as I could, I leapt up onto the bar and leaned forward. I snatched the WANTED poster of myself off the bulletin board, crumpled it up, and shoved it into my pocket.
I'd just dropped back to my feet when the door swung open again. The teenage girl came out carrying a large metal key attached to a big carved chunk of wood.
"Come on." She motioned for me to follow her as she went up the stairs, each one of them creaking under her feet.
As I followed her up, I realized how tattered her layers of clothing appeared. The long tunic sweater was frayed at the edges, the fur on the hooded vest was coming out in patches, her heavy leggings were thin in the knees, and even her leg warmers had seen better days. Despite the cold, her feet were bare, and she had on pale blue toenail polish and a toe ring.
At the top of the stairs, she opened a door that had the number 3 painted on it, and she held it open for me. I slid past her into a narrow room with hardly enough space for the queen bed and a rocking chair. Several quilts were piled up on the bed, and a dusty arctic hare had been mounted on the wall.
I tossed my duffel bag on the bed and turned back toward her. "Sorry. I didn't catch your name."
"Ulla Tulin." She hung on to the door handle and half leaned on the door, so I didn't attempt to shake her hand.
"Bryn." I declined to give a last name, since that seemed less likely to trigger a connection to the WANTED poster. But either way, Ulla didn't give any sign of recognition.
"It was nice meeting you, and let me know if you need anything. We don't have any other guests, and I'm hardly ever doing anything, so I might as well be helping you."
"Actually, I did need your help."
She perked up and took a step in the room. "Yeah?"
"I was wondering if you know anything about a Mina Arvinge?" I asked, using Queen Mina's maiden name.
Ulla cocked her head. "That name sounds familiar, but I don't think any Arvinges live here now." She thought for a moment, staring off into space, then looked back at me. "Isn't the Queen named Mina? I'd heard someone say she was from here once, but I just thought they were lying. People come here to disappear." Then, sadly, she added, "Nobody ever actually makes it out."
"I'm sure some people do," I said, attempting vainly to cheer her up. I neglected to address her connection about Mina and the Queen. The less she knew about what I was looking for, the better.
Ulla gave a one-shoulder shrug, like she didn't care one way or another. "There's only eight hundred and seventy-eight people that live here, so you'd think everybody'd know everything about everyone. But truth is, most people keep to themselves. We like our secrets here."
"Do yo
u know of anybody named Mina?" I pressed on. "She probably moved away around five years ago."
"Five years ago?" Ulla repeated, thinking. "Kate Kissipsi had a couple sisters that left. I'm not sure when, but you could talk to her. She might know something."
"Do you know where she lives?" I asked.
"On the north side of town." Ulla gestured behind her. "I could take you there if you want."
"Could you? That'd be really great."
"Yeah." She smiled broadly, probably excited about the idea of getting out of the inn. "I have to make supper first, and you can have some. It's nothing exciting. Just boiled potatoes and ukaliq."
"Ukaliq?" I echoed, doing my best to make the ew-ka-lick sound she made.
"Sorry, arctic hare." Her expression changed to one of exaggerated weariness. "We eat so much hare." Then she shook her head, clearing it of the thought, and her smile returned. "I'll meet you downstairs in twenty minutes for supper, and then I'll take you out to see Kate."
TWENTY-EIGHT
visitors
"We have to walk," Ulla told me as she pulled on heavy kamik boots made of sealskin and lined with fur. "It's only about a mile north, so it's not that bad."
"Why do we have to walk?" I asked, bundling up the same way she was in the lobby of the inn.
"Because Kate doesn't like visitors, so it's better if she doesn't hear us coming." With that, she turned and headed toward the front door. "Let's go. We have to be back before dark."
Dark was still several hours away, but I didn't argue with her. I just followed her out into the cold. We went down the front steps, and then walked half a block. The streets were deserted, and if I didn't know any better, I would've thought this was a ghost town. But Ulla assured me that people actually lived here.
At the end of the block, we took a right turn onto a poorly kept path. It had obviously been shoveled at some point in the winter, since it had less snow than the areas around it, but it was covered in snow.
"Why doesn't Kate like visitors?" I asked as we walked out of town.
"Nobody likes visitors here." Ulla spoke loudly so her voice would carry through the thick scarf she'd wrapped around her face.
"It seems like a lonely place," I said.
Ulla looked at me with a snowflake stuck to her eyelash. "You have no idea."
We'd walked for quite a while before Ulla pointed at what appeared to be a heap of snow on the ground, claiming that it was Kate's place. As we got closer, it finally began to take shape. It was so low to the ground that it had to be built like Ridley's house, with most of it below the surface. Snow covered it, probably both to camouflage it and to help insulate it during the harsh winters.
Dirty snow appeared to move near the front of the house, but when two gray and white drifts began charging toward us, I quickly realized it wasn't snow. Two massive wolves had been lying outside, but now they were running toward Ulla and me, snarling and barking.
"I forgot she had wolves," Ulla said.
I started backing away, since the wolves were rapidly approaching us. "We should get out of here."
"No, don't run!" Ulla snapped. "That'll only make them chase you."
"Well, I'm not exactly an expert in fighting wolves in hand-to-hand combat, so what do you suggest we do?"
The front door of the hut was thrown open, and a dark figure stepped out wielding a large shotgun.
"Magni! Modi," she shouted, and the wolves halted mere feet from pouncing on us. "Get back here!"
The wolf closest to me hesitated, growling at me once more, before turning back and running with the other one toward the hut. The home owner was still holding a gun, but she'd called the dogs off, so I took that as a good sign. I slowly stepped closer to the hut, and a second later, Ulla followed me.
"Who are you? What do you want?" the woman barked at us.
"I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. If that'd be okay."
She was cloaked in thick fur, and a hood hung low over her face, so I could only see her mouth, scowling at me. As she considered my proposal, it seemed to take forever, with the two wolves standing by her side.
Finally, she said, "You've walked all this way. I might as well let you in." Without waiting for us, she went back into the hut, and the wolves trailed behind her.
Since I wasn't actually sure how safe any of this would be, I turned to Ulla. "You can head back to town if you want. I can handle this from here."
"No way. This is better than anything that happens in town."
I didn't want to stand out here and argue with her, especially not when someone with a shotgun and wolves was waiting on me. So I nodded and went on.
Inside the hut, the walls were made of gray exposed wood, and there was a wood-burning stove, small kitchen table, and bed all in the same room.
It was surprisingly warm inside, and the woman had already taken off her fur and tossed it on the bed. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a frizzy braid that went to her knees. She wore a loose-fitting black dress with wool leggings, and, much like Ulla, she wore many pieces of wood and ivory jewelry.
When Ulla and I came in, she was busying herself filling up two metal dishes with chunks of meat from an ice chest. I took off my hat and scarf while I waited for her to finish. The wolves whimpered excitedly until she set the bowls down before them, and then she turned her attention to us.
Her eyes were dark gray, with thick lashes framing them, and without all the fur she appeared rather petite. She looked to be in her early twenties, but with her arms crossed over her chest, she gazed at me with the severity of someone much older and much more hardened by life.
"What do you want?" she demanded.
"Are you Kate Kissipsi?" I asked.
"That's what they call me," she replied noncommittally.
"I was just looking for someone, and Ulla Tulin"--I motioned to Ulla beside me, and she gave Kate a small wave--"thought you might know something."
"I live alone with nothing but Magni and Modi." Kate looked over to where the wolves were chomping down on the semi-frozen red meat. "I don't think I can help you."
"Do you know anything about a Mina Arvinge?" I asked, almost desperately. "Anything at all?"
Her eyes widened for a moment, but her expression remained hard. Finally, she let out a heavy breath. "Ayuh. You mean my sister?"
My jaw dropped. "She's your sister?"
"I suppose I should make us some tea, then." She turned her back to us and went over to the stove. "Come in and sit down. You'll probably have a lot you want to talk about."
TWENTY-NINE
relation
"Sorry about the gun," Kate said, glancing over to where the shotgun rested by the door.
"It's no problem," I told her hurriedly, eager to get on with the conversation.
Ulla and I had taken off our jackets and sat down at the table while Kate prepared the tea. The metal teapot had begun to whistle, so she came over and poured hot water over the tea bags into chipped ceramic mugs.
"We've had problems with nanuqs this year, coming too close to the house and getting more aggressive than normal. The long winter's been hard on them," Kate explained as she sat down across from us.
Nanuq was one of the few Inuktitut words I remembered--it meant "polar bear." We had plenty of polar bears that lived around Doldastam, but they were almost never hostile. Still, I didn't want to start my interactions with Kate by doubting her claims.
"They call me Kate Kissipsi, but that's not really my name," she began, staring down at the mug. The larger of the two wolves lay close to the wood-burning stove, while the other lay on her feet. "We came here when I was seven, and nobody here wanted to take in orphaned children."
She looked up at Ulla then, who nodded solemnly.
"Too many babies and kids are dropped off here," Ulla said. "There aren't a lot of open hearts or open doors anymore."
"None of the Kanin would have us here, but we were eventually taken in by an Inuit family that lived nearby
," Kate said. "That's when I adopted the name Kissipsi--it means 'alone' in Inuktitut, and that seems like the best word to describe my life.
"Arvinge isn't really Mina's last name either," she added.
As soon as she said it, it clicked with me. The Kanin had taken to using many Swedish words for official titles and names, even adopting them as surnames. It was so common, I hadn't thought anything of Mina's alleged maiden name until now.
"Arvinge means 'heir' in Swedish," I said, thinking aloud. And then everything began falling into place "And you came here when you were seven? It was in 1999, wasn't it?"
Kate nodded, but she hadn't even needed to confirm it. It all made sense.
I leaned back in my chair. "Holy shit. You're Viktor Dalig's daughters."
"'Mina' was my dad's pet name for Karmin," Kate said. "She was the only one he gave a pet name to, but she was the oldest and his favorite." She let out an embittered sigh. "As soon as we got here, she started going by Mina Arvinge, trying to separate herself from the bad reputation our real name had garnered."
After Viktor had attempted to kill the King fifteen years ago, he'd been sentenced to death, but many felt that the harshest punishment had been saved for his three girls. Since the whole attack had been based on the fact that he felt that his oldest daughter, Karmin aka Mina, was the rightful heir to the throne, King Evert believed that his kids should be punished severely, even though they were only children.
All three of Viktor's daughters were stripped of the titles, their inheritance, and banished from the kingdom. Karmin was oldest, and she was only ten at the time. With their mother dead and their father on the run from the law, she had been left in charge of her younger sisters.
"After we were exiled, we had nowhere to go," Kate said. "We'd never been changelings. We'd lived our whole lives in Doldastam, and unlike trackers, who are trained in the human world, we knew nothing about it.
"Before we were sent away, the Chancellor brought us a bag of clothes and some money," she went on. "He told us to go to Iskyla. He said its people hardly ever followed the rules of the kingdom and no one here would even know who we were. And he was right."
The Chancellor at the time had fallen ill, which meant that my dad was working in his place. My dad had been the one to help the girls and send them somewhere safe. Years later, even knowing that he'd tried to help them, Mina would still send Konstantin to kill him in revenge for not crowning her Queen.