After what seemed like hours the fog finally began to thin. The sun grew low. The fog turned from gray to an eerie yellow that coated the stones around us. The sun touched the horizon.
Without warning Ari started cursing. His hands fumbled at the zipper of his jacket. “It’s the setting sun that causes it!” Ari scrambled to his feet, jacket halfway unzipped. I stood, too, reaching for him, but Ari shoved me back. “Get away.” His hands were all wrong, too large and too flat.
Ari gasped and fell to all fours. He threw back his head and roared, even as black leather flowed and melted. Leather gave way to fur, hands and feet to white paws, face to small eyes and long snout.
I didn’t run, though that roar echoed inside my chest. “Ari?” I kept my gaze on his green eyes.
The bear stared at me, trembling. I trembled, too. I’d watched enough nature documentaries to know the damage a bear’s claws could do. Yet a real polar bear would have attacked me by now.
The bear whirled from me and ran, disappearing over the stones into the fog.
“Ari!” I fumbled in my pockets for his handkerchief and realized he’d taken it back. I grabbed my pack and ran after him, shouting the words Svan had spoken:
May you shed this form and show
Your true self.
I will fear no bear-kin!
I stopped short and waited. Ari didn’t return. Had he even heard? I made my way back to the roadside and sank to the ground. Maybe if I stayed in one place, Ari could find me. I drew my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth. Alone. Now I really was alone.
Darkness thickened around me. A bright moon rose, turning the fog silver. There wasn’t any wind. In the silence, the world seemed eerie and strange.
It wasn’t like anyone could hurt a bear, even if they could see him. Ari would be fine.
Damp fog tickled my neck. I suddenly wanted Mortimer, my stuffed wombat, more than anything. I thought of Mom, sewing and re-sewing all my stuffed animals for me. My chest felt tight.
My eyes began to close. I used my fingers to prop them open. No way did I want to dream here, alone in the dark and the fog. My heavy lids felt gritty and sore. I had to rest them, just for a moment.
It felt good to close my eyes, but that was okay—I just wouldn’t sleep.
I stood on a hillside beside a tower of gray blocks riddled with cracks. The sky was thick with clouds, the air silent and still, not a bird in sight. Quiet. Peaceful. I’d stop the dream right here. I could stop it wherever I wanted.
A burning arrow flew through the air. I knew when that arrow landed, it would burn the world—No! I reached up and caught the arrow in my hand. It burned, but I wasn’t afraid of pain.
For a heartbeat, two heartbeats, everything was okay. Then a spark caught, somewhere inside me, a spark of fire that rose to meet the fire I held. Fire roared through my blood and burst through my skin. Cracks opened beneath my feet as I screamed. The fissures stretched on and on, toward the edge of the sea.
“Free,” a rough voice whispered, and the words burned, too. “We will be free!”
I woke with a start, still screaming, drenched in sweat. The mist felt stiflingly hot. I leaped to my feet and backed away, knowing that even awake, I couldn’t escape my dreams. I heard a snuffling sound behind me, and I whirled around.
A huge white bear stared at me, bright in the moonlit fog, shaking as hard as I was. I looked at him. He looked back through bright green eyes.
“Ari?” My throat hurt from screaming.
The bear bowed his head. He lumbered toward me, then stopped, uncertain. I reached out and touched his wet nose, even as I thought about how stupid it was to just walk up and touch a bear—to touch any wild animal.
But Ari still wasn’t acting like a wild animal, and all my classes and internships and Web surfing had never covered bears who were also boys, anyway. How could they leave out a thing like that? I gave a strained laugh. It turned into a sob, and once I started sobbing I couldn’t stop.
Ari nudged my chest with his muzzle. I threw my arms around his thick neck, still sobbing. His fur was cold and damp. I clung to it, feeling the burning memory of my dream subside. “How the hell did either of us get into this mess?” I demanded. Ari had no answer to that. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back,” I said, and cried until I couldn’t cry anymore.
I curled up on the ground then, and Ari stretched out beside me, watching me still. The fog was clearing at last, and up above the moon shone so brightly it hurt my eyes. I closed them and buried my face in Ari’s cool white fur, which felt coarse and soft and slippery all at once. I started drifting off, too tired to stop myself, even though maybe Svan’s spell to turn Ari human would have worked now.
“You’re not Mortimer,” I whispered to Ari, “but you’ll do.”
I slept once more, and for the first time since having arrived in Iceland—the first time since my mother had disappeared—I had no dreams.
Chapter 13
I woke to a cold blue sky. An arm was draped over me, not a bear’s arm—a boy’s. Ari lay on his side, propped up on one elbow and staring at me through his human eyes as though he feared I’d disappear if he moved.
“You came back,” I said.
“Once I was sure I wouldn’t hurt you.” Wind tugged at his white hair. “Once I knew it was me in control, and not the bear.”
My throat still hurt, but I felt like I’d slept—really slept—for the first time in ages. “Thank you,” I whispered.
Ari’s mouth quirked into a smile. “So I managed to do something right, then?”
I made a strangled sound, half a laugh and half a sob. I put my hands slowly to his face and pressed my lips to his. Heat rose in me. I didn’t know if it came from my magic or not. Ari’s lips were so soft. I reached for his hair, remembering that it was soft, too, as soft and coarse as his polar bear fur.
Ari drew away with a gasp and sat up. His own hands shook as he looked at me. “No,” he said, but he sounded uncertain.
What did he mean, no? I sat up, too. I remembered falling asleep, buried in his fur. He hadn’t minded then. “You didn’t mind in Muninn’s mountain.”
Ari looked right at me. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend then.”
He was right, I knew he was right—I didn’t want him to be right. What was wrong with me? Was I no better than Dad? “You chased the nightmares away.” I looked down, realizing how stupid that sounded.
Ari shut his eyes, as if my words had hurt him. “I won’t be the reason you break up with him.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“And if you don’t break up with Jared, I won’t be that guy you feel guilty about and try to pretend never happened. I’d rather go a little longer between girlfriends than be someone else’s stupid mistake. Or maybe you’d tell yourself I don’t count, because it was only Iceland, thousands of miles from your home—no, Haley.” He sounded more sure now.
“I’d never pretend you didn’t count,” I said, but I couldn’t argue with the rest. I wanted to, though. Just like I wanted to kiss him again, not caring if it made sense or not. I jammed my hands into my pockets. The knuckles of my right hand brushed burning metal. The fire in me rose in response. I cursed and pulled my hands out, filling my mind with thoughts of cool moonlit polar bear fur. The heat subsided.
“Are you okay?” Ari asked.
“I’m fine,” I snapped.
Ari looked away from me. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and fiddled with it, as if the battery might decide it wasn’t really dead. Had Jared tried to call, after the battery had died?
It had taken Jared and me years to fall in love. How could I fall for Ari after only a few days? I got to my feet and pulled my backpack over my shoulders.
Ari shoved the phone back into his pocket, not looking at me. “We should start walking.”
I pictured hours and hours of walking, not looking at Ari, trying not to wonder what it would feel like to hold his hand, to touch his hair. I got
to my feet and pulled on my backpack. “Let’s run,” I said, and burst into a jog without waiting for Ari to answer.
The pack bounced on my back—I didn’t care. Muscles stiff with sleep loosened as I ran, and I settled into a comfortable lope beside the water. Dirt turned to pavement—real pavement—beneath my feet. Around me the gray stones were bright with autumn moss. Snow streaked the distant hills.
Behind me I heard Ari breathing hard. I slowed down, into the easier pace I used when running with Jared. It doesn’t matter, I told myself as my feet slapped the pavement, not sure if I meant Jared or Ari or both of them. All that mattered was getting to Hlidarendi, returning the coin, and figuring out what to do about the fire in me—if anything could be done about that.
Ari caught up, his face red, sweat dripping from his hair. “This was easier”—he gasped—“as a bear.”
I dropped to a brisk walk, knowing that if I went any slower my legs would cramp up. I pulled off my jacket. My skin felt warm and flushed, in spite of the cool breeze, but it was good heat, for once. Normal heat, like after any run.
Ari wiped a hand across his sweaty face. We reached another intersection, and he turned left, so that we were following the fjord out the other side. “I guess it’s true—what they say. About American girls—being fast—”
I thwapped him with my jacket. Ari laughed. “Hey, I’m not the one who set that pace!” He took off his jacket, too, and draped it over his shoulders. “Maybe if I just keep it off I’ll stay human. Do you think it could be that easy? I didn’t even know the coat was bearskin until Muninn said so.”
I wrapped my jacket around my waist. “What’s it like?” I asked. “Being a bear?”
Ari looked down at the pale white hairs on the backs of his hands. We passed a farmhouse. A pair of black-capped terns perched on the roof, watching us. “I could have killed him, you know. The sorcerer.”
“No one would blame you for that.” I kicked a black stone down the road. The volcanic rock was lighter than I’d expected. It disappeared into the distance.
“You don’t understand. I would have enjoyed it. It would have been fun.”
The memory of falling asleep in his soft fur made me want to cry. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“This time.” Ari made a fist and slowly opened it, as if fascinated by the way his own fingers worked. “This isn’t like some cartoon where the bears are all funny and cuddly with googly Disney eyes.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” We caught up with my rock. I picked it up and stared at its air-pocked surface. Ari watched me, his skeptical look making clear he thought I still didn’t understand. “Listen, Ari, I know a few things about polar bears—real polar bears. They don’t turn and run just because they’re scared they might hurt someone. They don’t wait to come back until they’re sure they won’t, either. They don’t run at all, not unless they’re chasing down prey.”
Ari kicked a patch of moss at the side of the road. “It’s still dangerous. If I get angry as a bear, it’s worse than as a human.”
“This whole mess we’re in is dangerous.” I glanced at Ari’s hands. His palms were still very faintly red where I’d burned him. “If anyone should be worried about being dangerous, it’s me.”
Ari scowled. “That’s not the same thing.”
“No.” I let the rock fall. “Because you can’t bring buildings down with your magic. Maybe you were right to run away.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Ari said.
“I won’t if you won’t.” I drew a breath. “You know, if we can’t fix the memory thing, I won’t run home to America when this is all done. I won’t leave you alone here.”
Ari shrugged uncomfortably. “You don’t have to stay because you feel sorry for me.”
“Idiot!” I almost kicked him. “I wouldn’t stay because I felt sorry for you.” He didn’t want to kiss me—he might even be right about that—but that didn’t mean we weren’t friends, or that being friends wasn’t important. “I won’t abandon you.” Not when you’re a bear, and not when you’re human, either. “Jared would agree, you know.”
“That you should stay here with me instead of him?” Ari laughed. “I doubt that.”
“That friends don’t abandon each other,” I said sharply.
A truck rumbled along the road behind us. We moved onto the shoulder as it passed. Wind blew the grasses at our feet and rippled the surface of the fjord. Ari jammed his hands into his pockets as we walked on. “The thing is,” he said slowly, “if it turns out I change every night, with or without the jacket? Even if we fix everyone’s memories, I have a problem then. Hard to go to college as a bear—never mind getting a job or playing gigs.”
Maybe you could stick to matinees. That wouldn’t work in Iceland, though, where the winter days were as short as the summer nights. “You could migrate. Like an arctic tern.” I stifled a giggle. “Sorry. I shouldn’t joke.”
“Of course you should joke.” Ari shook his white hair out of his eyes. “Hey, I could be the first polar bear at the South Pole. Go visit the penguins. What do you think?”
“I think there are no penguins at the South Pole, only at the coast.” I laughed, and Ari laughed, too. I pulled the granola from my pack, and we ate it as we continued on. We veered away from the water for a bit, then turned left, leaving the main road behind. A harbor town came into view below us. The bright red-and blue-roofed houses reminded me of my run through Reykjavik, what seemed a lifetime ago.
We came to a small gas station. Wind whistled through its broken windows, and the door swung open on its hinges. I rubbed my bare arms, though the wind still didn’t seem cold to me. How far away had the earthquake been felt?
A girl and boy on bicycles circled around the parking lot while a woman stood nearby, talking into a cell phone. Across the road, I saw more emergency vehicles beside a huge orange tent. A few people sat in lawn chairs by the tent, talking quietly. Down toward the harbor, I saw smaller tents in some of the yards, as well as more people talking in the streets. It didn’t look like anyone was hurt, but the hurt people wouldn’t have been standing around outside, would they?
“This is my fault,” I said.
Ari gave my hand a quick squeeze. “Not only yours. Come on, let’s see if we can find a bus schedule.” He started toward the gas station door.
The boy on the bicycle headed the same way, not seeing us. We quickly stepped out of his path, but then the bicycle hit a rock, and he tumbled to the ground.
Ari and I ran to his side, even as the girl stopped pedaling. I reached for the boy to help him up. He flinched as if burned, burst into tears, and ran wailing to the woman. She flipped her phone closed and stroked his hair.
The girl sat on her bicycle, balanced on her toes. She looked right at us. I smiled, even though she couldn’t see us.
She smiled back. “Are you ghosts?” she asked solemnly.
I started. “I—I don’t know.” Was the spell broken? No, the boy hadn’t seen me, though he’d felt my touch.
The girl nodded, still solemn. “I see ghosts. My grandma says some people can.” She reached into her pocket and offered me a piece of black licorice.
I took it. “Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome!” She turned and pedaled away, winding through the parking lot toward the woman and boy.
I tore the licorice in half, gave a piece to Ari, and popped the other into my mouth. It was salty. My lips scrunched up, but then I decided I liked it. “A gift,” I whispered. Unlike with Muninn or Svan or the fire spirits, there’d been no price—it was just a gift.
A pair of backpackers headed down the road and into the parking lot. They walked over to the woman. “Do you know—is there a bus today?” one of them asked in English.
The woman answered in English, more stilted than the Icelandic she’d spoken on the phone. “The bus is canceled. Because of the earthquake.”
Ari and I looked at each other. The woman asked the backpackers where t
hey were headed; Akureyri, they said, and she opened her phone, saying she knew someone who might be able to give them a ride.
We could hitch a ride, too, sneak into someone’s backseat, only how would we know where they were going? Up above a gray falcon circled around, reminding me of the kids on their bicycles. Could we borrow bicycles and head south that way?
Ari took his jacket from his shoulders and stared at it thoughtfully. Wind pulled at the sleeves and at his hair. “Ah, well,” he said at last. He pulled the jacket back on and zipped it up. “There’s enough time to be human later.”
I gave him a puzzled look. Ari held out a hand and bowed slightly.
“Haley,” he said, “may I offer you a ride?”
Chapter 14
It took me a moment to realize what Ari meant. “As a bear?”
“I may not be much as a human, but as a bear I make pretty good time.” He grinned. “Or if you prefer, we could hotwire a car. Not that I’ve ever done that before, but they do it in movies all the time, so how hard can it be?”
“No, no, I’d love a ride. That’d be amazing, actually.” How many wildlife biologists get to ride a polar bear? Jared would be jealous—I cut the thought off. If he’s jealous, it won’t be because of the bear. “Are you sure?” I asked Ari. “I mean, it’s awfully far.”
“Of course. It’ll be just like shooting womp rats back home.” At my blank look, Ari said, “Another Star Wars joke. I’m a bit of a geek, if you hadn’t noticed. Yes, I’m sure. I have lots more energy as a bear. More than I know what to do with, actually. I can get us to Hlidarendi.”
“Thanks,” I said. We really are in this together, I thought.
We loaded up on sandwiches and Cokes and maps at the abandoned gas station. We tried to call Jared on the pay phone there, too, but like at the hotel, we didn’t get a dial tone. Ari left a few bills on the counter to pay for all we took—though we still had no idea whether anyone could see our money—and then we headed down to the harbor to wait for the sun to set and Ari to change. We stretched out on a patch of grass. Ari studied the map. I took out Thorgerd’s spellbook and studied the spell for returning the coin. There were words I had to speak—after my third pathetic attempt to sound them out, Ari took pity and read them for me. I repeated the words until I had them memorized.