I took his hand, shivering at the coldness of his touch. Connecting with him made me feel tethered, although it also made me more aware that my feet were dangling above the floor, that I was embroiled in magic I doubted I’d ever understand. But at the same time, the breeze blowing in through the hatchway was crisp and clean-smelling.
I kicked my legs hard and pushed myself up, and Isolfr pulled me out the rest of the way. There was a platform at the top of the carriage where we both could sit, although we had to press close together so we’d fit. Narrow pipes jutted out from the front of the carriage, belching gray mist. The cold dampness of it settled on my skin, making my hair curl, but I turned myself away from it, looking out at the road as we receded.
The view was spectacular.
We were up on a hill in what must have been the outskirts of the city. The buildings and people were sparser here, and I could see those huge glass structures rising up in the distance. Already trees were starting to sprout off the ground, strange ones with long, twisting white leaves that trailed over the pale, golden grass. We passed a little stone building that might have been a house—it was strange to think of the people of the Mists living in houses like anyone else, but there was a clothesline stretched between two trees, the line flapping with gray fabric. A little boy peeked out from behind a piece of the fabric, his eyes big and curious. He reminded me of Henrik, even if he was a child of the Mists. I waved at him, and he yelped and dove back behind the laundry.
“Don’t do that.” Isolfr looked over at me. The wind tossed his hair into his face, and I was caught again by the nature of his strange, inhuman beauty. “He could have been a spy.”
“A little boy?”
“Maybe.”
I shivered, drawing my knees up to my chest. The house drew farther and farther away in the distance. The city sparkled.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be up here then,” I said.
“Maybe not.” But Isolfr didn’t make any move to go back inside, only turned his gaze toward the city, falling away into the horizon.
The carriage huffed and steamed and rolled us over the stone pathway. The countryside stretched out around us. For all my fear of Lord Foxfollow, I didn’t want to go back inside either.
• • •
Traveling in the carriage was much easier than traveling on the Penelope. In either of her incarnations.
The food, although it was preserved in jars and there was no way to heat it up properly, was still delicious. We ate salted lemons and strips of some sweet-tasting fish that reminded me of the lisila that I’d had back in Tulja. There were fruit preserves to spread on butter-bread and packages of sharp yellow cheese and vegetables soaked in brine. We also had clean clothes, enough that we could change every day of the trip, and as it turned out, there was a small room set off from the main one with a ceramic tub that refilled itself with fresh warm water whenever we needed it. That first day, I soaked in the water until it turned cold, and when I stepped out, my skin smelled sweet, like flowers I couldn’t identify.
The one drawback, of course, was that there was nothing to do. I liked the varied food and the nice clothes, but even on the Penelope II Frida and Kolur would find chores for us from time to time. I thought things were dull enough then, but they were even more dull in the carriage.
“How are we supposed to bide our time?” I asked Isolfr one afternoon. I knew it was afternoon because we had taken to leaving the ceiling hatch open so we could watch the sky change its light.
“There are books to read,” Isolfr said, which was what he was doing, stretched out on the pillows.
“Dull ones,” I said. “About the great House of Llambric in its glory days.” I’d tried reading one of those books when I first grew bored, but the book actually bored me even more. “You’d think the history of noble houses in the Mists would be more interesting than that.”
“The really interesting part of their history can’t be recorded,” Isolfr said. “Lord Foxfollow saw to that. Anything written about his takeover has to be presented in a positive light, or else the writer will be killed.” He settled into a melancholy silence. I didn’t blame him; I didn’t much want to think about Lord Foxfollow either.
Isolfr turned back to his book. He stared down at the pages, his brow furrowed.
Then he tossed it off into the pillows.
“Why don’t we stop for a rest?” he said.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
He hesitated. I could see him thinking it over in those lovely blue eyes of his. “It’s not the best,” he said. “But I do think it will be good for us to stretch and walk around a bit. We’re in the countryside, so we don’t have to worry about spies.” He stood up and straightened his coat. “And if we go up and it looks like there are any houses or other travelers, we can wait until it’s clear.”
I considered this. I wasn’t used to spending all my time indoors, and it would be nice to breathe fresh air—even if it was fresh air that belonged to the Mists.
“Yes,” I said. “I’d like that.”
Isolfr grinned, although I could see the flash of anxiety in his eyes. I realized with a jolt that he probably didn’t really think this was a good idea.
“If it’s not safe,” I said, “we don’t have to go out.”
Isolfr shrugged. “I don’t like seeing you bored.”
My cheeks warmed. Isolfr looked away. “Carriage! We’d like to look outside,” he said, and then he drifted up in the air. I did the same. I still wasn’t used to it, that weird feeling of weightlessness. Just like I wasn’t used to Isolfr saying he cared about my happiness. More or less.
He climbed out to the viewing platform first, then ducked back inside. “It’s clear,” he said. “Carriage! Could you stop for a moment?”
A loud wheezing bellowed from the walls, and then the familiar, droning rattle ended. The light dimmed down to silver.
We had stopped.
“Come on,” Isolfr said. “It’s a nice day.”
I lifted myself through the hatchway. The carriage sat in the middle of an endless, sweeping grassland growing wild with lavender flowers. The sunless sky was pale blue overhead, glowing its infused light. The flowers rippled like the sea.
“We’re not even on a road,” I said, feeling breathless. The cold air burned in my lungs, but it did so with a sharp pleasantness, something I realized I’d missed since being trapped inside the carriage. I looked over at Isolfr. “How do you know we’re even going to Llambric Manor?”
“We are.” He smiled at me. “We’re just not taking the roads. It’s safer that way. Which means it will be safer for us to stop for a bit.” Then he looked back out at the landscape. “Those are eye-of-amories,” he said. “The roots are good to eat.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve heard Trystan talk about them.”
“Trystan, Trystan, Trystan.” I rolled my eyes. “I hope this Trystan actually exists, you know.”
Isolfr gave me an irritated look, but in the bright air I couldn’t be bothered by it. I knew it was dangerous being out here, even if we were off the roads and the grassland was empty. But it was just so lovely. It reminded me of the spring that I’d missed back in Kjora when Kolur whisked me away to the north.
“Let’s pick some of these eye-of-amories,” I said, standing up on the platform. I tottered in place, looking down at the swirling, silky grass. “And hope your Trystan has good taste in food.”
Isolfr laughed. I took a deep breath and jumped off the carriage. My dress fluttered around me and the wind blew across my face and for a moment I felt as if I was flying.
I landed on all fours. The grass waved in the breeze, tickling at my nose. I straightened up and when I looked over to my side, Isolfr was already standing there, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“I didn’t hear you jump,” I said.
“Because I didn’t.” He gave me one of those crooked, nervous smiles.
“Show-off.”
>
He laughed, ducking his head, and for some reason that made my stomach feel like it was full of butterflies. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.
“So the eye-of-amories are the purple ones, right?” I said, trying to make things go back to normal. I had no business turning into a swoony court girl over a spirit of the north wind.
Isolfr nodded. “Just make sure you pull them up by the roots. And keep the flowers, too. Trystan says you can suck the nectar out of them.”
“Right.” I lifted up my skirts and plunged into the grass. It came up nearly to my waist, but walking wasn’t as difficult as I’d imagined. The grass glided aside for me, clearing a way through the landscape. Isolfr rustled behind me, and I turned around, looking at him over my shoulder.
“You’re not going to turn into the wind out here?” I teased, “and blow through the field?”
“You’re about to step on some flowers.”
“Stop avoiding my questions.” I stopped and looked forward again. Purple blossoms swelled out in front of me, so thick that it was as if the grass had changed color.
“Pull them up by the roots?” I said.
Isolfr stepped up beside me and nodded. “And pull hard. They can be tough to get up.”
I knelt down. The grass rose up around me, a soft whispering cage. The stalks of the eye-of-amories were actually quite a bit thicker than the grass, and the flowers themselves hung off several silvery strands at the stalk’s top, fanning out like a tree. I grabbed the stem, braced myself against the ground, and pulled.
The eye-of-amorie came out easily. I wasn’t expecting that and so I sprawled backward and landed on my back, clumps of damp dirt scattering across the bodice of my dress.
“Ancestors damn you!” I said to Isolfr. “You knew that was going to happen.”
“Knew what?” He laughed. “I didn’t think you would fall over.” He leaned over and ripped out a flower of his own, then another. Our thievery didn’t even register in the vast pool of lavender.
“Is all of the Mists this beautiful?” I said.
Isolfr yanked out another flower. “I’ve not seen very much of it. But from what I can tell, much of it is rather striking.”
I draped my arms over my knees and gazed up at the empty sky. “It’s just not what I pictured. I thought it would be dark and wrapped in mist.” I shrugged.
“I always thought that too.” He smiled down at me, his arms full of flowers.
Behind him, I saw a smudge of darkness against the sky.
“What’s that?” My heart started pounding, and I stood up, careful to keep my eyes on the dark smudge.
“What is it?” Isolfr’s face lost all of its incandescent brightness. He whirled around. “What do you see?”
The dark spot grew bigger.
“It’s him,” I said, the fear growing slow and thick in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.
“We need to get back to the carriage. Now.”
I didn’t want to turn my back on the dark spot, but Isolfr took me by the hand and pulled me toward the carriage. I looked behind me the entire time, not taking my eyes off the dark spot in the sky. My feet tangled up in my skirts as I ran. Grass slapped against my waist. The carriage was perched up on a hill, surrounded by acres and acres of rippling grass. It seemed like part of another world.
The dark spot was beginning to take shape. It had wings like a bird, but I could tell it was much bigger than any bird I had ever seen, and it threw off glints of light that fell into my eyes and blinded me.
“Hurry!” Isolfr shouted.
My foot caught on a loose patch of soil and I tumbled forward, landing in the prison of grass. I kicked, trying to right myself, but my skirts wrapped around my legs and I could see the dark creature barreling toward us, light flashing all over the landscape. Its wings were the only way in which it really resembled a bird. In all other respects it was like some kind of lizard, its scales charred black except for a handful that shone like diamonds.
The creature opened its mouth, revealing a lolling red tongue, rows of sharp teeth.
“Hanna! Move!”
Isolfr’s voice jarred me out of my paralysis. I scrambled to my feet, the dress ripping as I stood up. Isolfr took my hand and pulled me through the grass.
The creature was silent save for the constant beating of its wings. They created a breeze that lifted the ends of my hair and chilled the back of my neck. I stifled a scream.
Lights danced across the grass.
A shadow fell across the two of us, me and Isolfr.
The carriage waited on the hill.
The creature swooped down, one huge wing knocking me to my back. For a moment there was only a tangle of wing and fabric and grass, and then I heard Isolfr scream.
Isolfr floated in midair, one dark claw wrapped around his waist.
“Hanna!” he shouted.
For a moment I could only stare at him, stricken. He was my one connection to the Mists, the one who knew who to speak to, who to trust. If he died, I would be alone. I’d never survive.
And so without thinking I felt for magic. Any magic, not just wind. And I found it, a sudden slamming burst of it, cold and wet like mist. I breathed it in and let it burn in my lungs. It intertwined with the magic inside of me, twisting and changing and melding into something new.
The creature flapped higher. Isolfr wasn’t moving. I hoped he wasn’t dead.
But I knew I couldn’t think about that now. I could only think about the magic, churning inside of me, igniting my veins with enchantment. The power rose up heavy and strong and I lifted my hands and flung the magic, my magic, my transformed magic, out into the world.
There was one moment’s calm peace. The grass fluttered, tracing the path of the magic as it arced overhead.
And then my spell slammed into the creature with a flare of gray mist and white liquid light. The creature spiraled out of its trajectory, wings flapping wildly and then not flapping at all. It slammed into the ground with such a heaviness that I felt the earth shake beneath my feet. For a moment nothing seemed tangible. Everything seemed like mist.
And then the sensation passed. The creature lay in an unmoving lump among the grass.
“Isolfr!” I screamed, and I bounded forward, swiping at grass and flowers to get them out of my way. I slowed several paces from the creature, not wanting to get too close. It still hadn’t moved, but I didn’t think I would be able to blast magic at it again—certainly not with the strength I had just done.
“Isolfr?” My voice cracked. “Please tell me you’re all right.”
There was no answer. I crept around the creature, looking for some sign of Isolfr. The brilliant diamond scales flashed and shimmered. The rest of the creature was blackened, charred, like burned coal.
And then I saw a strip of blue fabric, a sharp contrast against the creature’s scales.
“Isolfr!” I dropped to my hands and knees, crawling forward. The fabric stuck out from underneath one of the massive black wings. I reached out, hand trembling, and brushed my fingers against the wing’s membrane. I snatched my hand back in preparation—but nothing happened. The creature didn’t move.
I reached out again, lifting the wing up, my breath coming hot and fast. I peered underneath it. Isolfr was there, curled up like a snail, his hand thrown over his head.
“Isolfr?” I whispered. “Can you hear me? Please?”
I stared at him, my heart pounding, waiting. He didn’t move.
He didn’t move.
He didn’t move.
And then he did.
It was a small movement, just a twitch of his fingers, but it was enough for me to know he was still alive. I ducked under the wing. The air there was dank and dim and smelled like a dampened fire, like wet smoke. I wrapped my arms around Isolfr’s chest and dragged him out into the light. His head lolled against my arm, and I could see his eyes moving behind his lids, a rapid back and forth like he was dreaming. He was heavier than I expected, and as soon a
s he was clear from the creature I had to drop him into the grass to catch my breath. The creature didn’t move, just rose up out of the earth like a boulder. I glanced over my shoulder at the carriage, my breath coming short and fast. The carriage hadn’t moved either.
I turned back to Isolfr and knelt down beside him. His eyes moved back and forth. I pushed on his shoulder. “Isolfr,” I whispered. “Isolfr, wake up.”
He didn’t.
I looked over at the creature. I wasn’t certain if it was dead, or if others would arrive soon, blackening the sky and throwing off points of diamond light. So I took a deep breath, picked Isolfr up under his arms, and slowly dragged him back to the carriage.
It took a long time.
At least the creature never stirred, and the sky remained empty. But I had to stop every few paces to readjust my grip or steady my breath, and by the time we’d made it back to the carriage my skin was slick with sweat. I laid Isolfr down in the dirt and pulled on the handle of the carriage door. For a moment I was afraid it wouldn’t swing open, that it had been locked from the inside—but then the latch turned and the door swung out, revealing the soft light of the interior.
I frowned, hands on my hips, uncertain how I was going to get Isolfr inside. I didn’t want to risk using magic the way I had against the creature—I wasn’t sure where that magic had come from, and I didn’t want to use too much and fling him up against the wall. Eventually, I climbed inside, then reached down and heaved. Something wrenched in my back, sending up a sudden ripple of pain, but I gave one last violent pull and Isolfr tumbled in.
I slumped back among the pillows, staring up at the circle of blue sky cut out from the ceiling. Sweat dripped into my brows and I didn’t bother to wipe it away. I was exhausted, not just from dragging Isolfr to the carriage but from drawing in that strange magic out of the air. It had wrung the vitality out of me, like water wrung from a rag. I prayed to the ancestors, unsure if they could even hear me in these strange lands, that I hadn’t destroyed myself in the process.
“Carriage,” I said, my voice weak, “we would like to continue our travels.”