I hugged myself, trying to conjure up some warmth.
“Shall I show you the magic we’ll be doing?”
“On what? There isn’t any ice around here.”
“Ah.” Frida nodded. “Yes. I see what Kolur was worried about now.”
“What?” I hated this, the way they both kept talking around me, dropping hints. Like they were playing some stupid game.
“There is ice here. Come.” She walked over to the railing. I waited a moment to be contrary. Then I followed out of nothing better to do. The water was choppy and dark green, almost black: a color that made me think of emptiness. “It’s hidden, drifting beneath the surface. I have a spell working to melt it away before it hits the boat.” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “That’s why I’m not burning the heat charms.”
I had wondered, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Kolur worried that you would run off when we next made port, that you’d try to steal a boat to sail your way back home.” She laughed. “I told him you seem capable enough. You’re his apprentice, after all.”
I squeezed the railing and wondered where we were going to make port. It was hard to remember the carved map from Papa’s boat, but I was pretty sure there were chains of smaller islands this far north. Not that I’d ever heard anything about them. Papa was always saying that there was enough wonder in the waters of Kjora to last a lifetime.
“Where are we going to make port?” I said.
“Ah, already plotting your escape, I see.”
“I’m not going to steal a boat,” I snapped. “Kolur’s going to take me home, isn’t he?”
“Of course.” Frida smiled. “But your mother is a pirate.”
I rolled my eyes. “You can’t sail these boats alone, even with magic. I’m not an idiot.”
Frida laughed. “It’s been done before, I imagine. But yes, you’d be safer with a crew. Honestly, his real concern is that you wouldn’t know this part of the world. It’s dangerous, more dangerous than the southerly islands. Not just because of the Mists”—she gestured at my bracelet and I covered it protectively with my other hand—“but because of the land and the sea themselves. You’re not used to it. Now watch.” She braced herself against the railing with one hand and lifted the other in a slow, graceful gesture. Her wrist swirled and swayed, and her fingers rippled.
The wind shifted.
It had been blowing in from the southeast, the sails catching it so as to propel us northward, but now it was blowing entirely from the north, and there was a melancholy to it from the magic.
Over at the helm, Kolur cursed. “You’ll break the masts!” he shouted.
“Ignore him,” Frida said. “Look at the water.”
I did. Spots of brightness appeared on the surface, like spangles of sunlight. Except they didn’t line up with the sun.
Frida exhaled slowly.
The spots of brightness glimmered. For half a second, I saw what Frida saw—ice. The bright spots were chunks of ice, invisible in the swirl of the waves without the aid of enchantment.
And they were melting.
Their light bled into the ocean water, bright on dark, a beautiful swirl of color, like Jandanvar’s lights, like the moon dancing with the night sky.
And then it was gone.
Frida let out her breath again, this time in a long unpracticed rush. She grabbed the railing with both hands and leaned back, stretching.
“So that’s how you melt the ice.” She straightened up and grinned at me. “You can do it with sea-magic as well, but I thought you’d prefer the wind.”
I felt a twinge of annoyance because she was right, but it passed quickly enough, swallowed up by a lifetime of dreaming I could become a witch.
“I was curious which direction, though.” Frida’s eyes sparkled. “Do you know yet? It took me a bit of exploration before I figured it out.”
I didn’t want to answer at first, but at the same time, it was a chance to talk about my magic with someone who understood, and I didn’t get that opportunity often. I sighed and braced myself. “I’m pretty sure it’s the south wind.” Everyone always laughed when I told them that, and said how obvious it was, since I had Empire heritage. But I’d actually inherited it from Papa. Mama’s magic was all based in the soil.
But Frida only nodded. “You should find this charm easy, then. When we sail across more ice, I’ll show you how to do it.”
I stared out at the dark water. It was good to have a job aboard the ship again.
Even if I had been dragged out here against my will.
• • •
I went up on deck that night, late, long after everyone had gone to sleep. It had become a habit these last few days, a way of having the Penelope to myself, even if just for a little while.
The wind was calm, nudging us gently along our way. I walked over to port side and leaned over the railing, staring down at the water. The lanterns’ light reflected back at me, but I didn’t see anything swimming alongside the boat.
I still thought that I might have imagined him. But I walked around the perimeter anyway, checking the water. Kolur snored, a soft rhythm that lined up with the motion of the Penelope. At the stern I stopped and let out a deep breath. No boy. Maybe I really was going mad out here. Maybe it was the far north making its way into my thoughts. Changing them.
Water splashed against the side of the boat.
I leaned over the railing immediately, gripping tight. A shadow flickered through the water.
“Hey,” I snapped, forgetting the possibility of madness. “Hey, are you down there?”
A pause. The wind shifted directions; the sails swiveled into place, their magic crackling around me with the same melancholy I’d sensed before.
Then that pale face appeared, glowing in the water like the moon.
“You were casting magic earlier,” he said.
I shivered. My heart pounded.
“Not me,” I said in a low voice. “The witch on board.”
“You mean you’re not a witch?”
I shrugged, nervous but a little pleased, too, that he’d mistaken me for a proper witch.
He dropped below the water. I was certain I wasn’t imagining him now, and all the many explanations for his existence passed through my head: he was a ghost; he was a water spirit made manifest; he was a merman, a new kind that lived in icy waters.
Or he was from the Mists.
He reappeared without warning. I gasped and stepped back. The boy frowned.
“Don’t be scared of me.”
It took me a moment to find my voice. “Why not?” I leaned closer. Sprays of freezing water splashed across my face. But the boy didn’t seem cold at all.
“Because I’m here to help you.” He bobbed with the waves. “My name is Isolfr.”
“What are you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes!” My answer came out louder than I’d intended, and I glanced over at Kolur. He was still asleep. “Yes,” I said, more quietly. “I don’t make a habit of trusting boys who can swim in ice water.”
Isolfr gave me one perfect, dazzling smile. “I’m not a normal boy.”
“I can see that.”
A wave crested and he rode with it, rising up alongside the boat. The water sparkled around him like it was full of stars.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” I said. “What are you?”
“What are you?”
“I’m human! You have to know that. Are you from the Mists?”
I spat out the question without meaning to—it’s dangerous to be so forthright with someone from the Mists. I regretted it immediately, too, and my whole body went cold, and I took a step backward, shaking in the wind. But my bracelet remained lifeless, inactivated, on my wrist.
Isolfr looked scandalized.
“The Mists?” he said. “No, never. It’s true I’m not human, but you don’t need to be human to live in this world, do you?”
Quiet settled around us, and I eventually shook my head.
Isolfr smiled again, although not as brightly as he had earlier. His smile was lovely, like the paintings in the capital, and I didn’t like that I thought that.
“You never told me your name,” he said.
I hesitated. I got no sense of danger from him, it was true. He waited for me to answer, moving with the rhythm of the waves. In a way, he reminded me of the illuminated ice Frida had shown me that afternoon. He was that lovely, that unearthly.
“Hanna,” I finally said.
Nothing happened except that Isolfr smiled again. “It was wonderful to meet you, Hanna. I look forward to working with you.”
He dove down into the depths.
“Working with me?” I said.
I stayed up on deck as long as I could stand it, shivering in the cold as I waited for him to return, to explain himself, but he never did.
• • •
When I cleared breakfast the next morning, I pulled out the bones from the fish we’d eaten and scraped them as clean as I could. They were small, flimsy things, but combined with the bones from lunch and dinner, I should have enough to cast a fortune-telling charm of my own. I didn’t expect them to tell me what Isolfr was or what he wanted—a creature like that had surely protected himself with magic—but I did plan on asking where Kolur was sailing us to. Just because he wouldn’t answer my questions didn’t mean I couldn’t get answers.
I wrapped the bones up in a handkerchief and slipped them under the blanket on my cot. Then I went back on deck, where Kolur and Frida had started up their duties for the day. A week in and we’d established a routine, one that hardly involved me. If Kolur was too lazy to return me and so had to force me to accompany him on his errand—I certainly wasn’t going to call this an adventure, because it was far too dull—he could at least have found something for me to do.
The sails curved outward under the force of the brisk, strong wind, looking like fluffy white clouds against the cold steely sky. The air smelled sweet. I pulled myself up from the ladder and closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to feel for that presence I’d felt earlier—
But there was nothing there.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kolur’s voice interrupted my concentration. I opened my eyes.
“Nothing,” I called back. “Just like you want.”
He shook his head and kicked at the boards. “Looked like you were in a damn trance. Don’t get like that out here, girl. It could mean something dangerous.”
“It wasn’t anything dangerous. I knew what I was doing.” I walked over to him. Frida was hunched over the map, as always, tracing a path with her finger. Yesterday, I’d tried to slide up beside her and peek at our navigation plans, but she’d slammed the lid shut with a gust of wind before I could see anything.
“Fine. But I don’t know that.” Kolur glanced down at me. “You know it’s not just icebergs we have to worry about out here.”
He was talking about the Mists. I suppressed a shiver.
“Funny,” I said. “Frida told me the exact opposite.”
Kolur rolled his eyes, but Frida smiled at us from across the boat.
“Frida’s a troublemaker.” Kolur paused. “You want to take the wheel for a little while? Should be fine, what with her melting charm going.”
“Sure.” It was something to do, and when I took the wheel from him, I felt the strength of the ship beneath my hands as it cut through the water. Kolur slouched beside me, his arms crossed over his chest—waiting for me to mess up, no doubt.
“Is it just killing you?” I said. “Letting me do some work for once?”
“Focus on the seas, girl.”
We sailed on. The ocean glittered around us; the wind flapped at the sails and brought that scent of cold, frozen flowers. I thought about Isolfr emerging from under the sea, claiming we were going to work together.
“Kolur?” I said, still looking out at the horizon.
“Tired already?”
“No.” I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to figure out what to say. As angry as I was with him, he needed to know about Isolfr. He was right—we were far north, and the waters were dangerous. Keeping Isolfr a secret meant putting the Penelope in danger.
“Well? Spit it out, girl.”
“Last night, I saw a boy swimming in the water beside the boat. I spoke to him, and he said his—” I stopped. Kolur had wandered over to Frida, and they stood side by side, staring down at the navigation table.
Ice welled up in my stomach.
“Kolur!” I shouted. “I was talking to you.”
He lifted his head. “What’s that? You tired already?”
My hands trembled, my head spun, and anger flushed hot in my cheeks. The Penelope veered off to the port side, and Kolur gave a shout and came running up to me. He yanked the wheel out of my hands and righted our path. The sails snapped. Dots of sunlight scattered across the deck.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. You’re the one who keeps ignoring—”
He turned away from me and stared out at the water. The wind ruffled his hair. “Maybe we can have you send a note down to your mother next time we dock. Think she’d like to hear from you.”
For a moment, I was struck by this new piece of information—the next time we dock? Where was it? Someplace with messengers, if we’d be able to send a note.
But then the implication of his promise struck me heard. He’d talked about docking, but not about Isolfr. He didn’t hear me. I brought up Isolfr and he didn’t hear me.
I stumbled away from him without answering. The wind roared in my ears.
Magic could do that. Magic, and not much else.
• • •
That night, I crept up on deck, the way I’d done every night since we left Skalir. But tonight was different. Tonight, the air itself felt sinister, like the wind was laced with poison instead of enchantment. I had my bones with me, still wrapped up in their handkerchief. And I intended to get some answers.
Kolur was sleeping at the helm, the steering charm glowing in the darkness. I crept up to the bow, where the wind was strongest, and closed my eyes to get a feel for its magic. It was strong tonight, a glimmer behind my closed eyelids, a tremor in my muscles. I pulled the wind’s strength into me so that it was racing through my blood, sparking and shining. I opened my eyes and dumped the fish bones into my palm. They jumped with enchantment. My whole body thrummed, the magic rising and falling with the swell of wind.
I murmured the incantation and scattered the bones across the deck. Kolur snored in the distance. The bones arranged into their patterns. At first I thought it was a scatter of islands, some archipelago in the north that I didn’t recognize, and my heart leaped—was this where we were going? Jandanvar wasn’t an island chain, I knew that much. But then I looked closer and saw that the bones had fallen into bland nonsense: Friendship. A long journey. Magic.
“Worthless,” I muttered. I gathered them up and tossed them again, this time trying to concentrate on a specific question: Where are we going?
The bones clacked across the deck. They had fallen into the exact same formation as before.
I batted them away in frustration, sending them scattering toward the mast. Kolur slept through it all. I stood up and shivered in the cold. Water splashed around the Penelope’s prow, spraying me with a frozen mist. Moonlight bounced off the water.
“Hanna.”
I jumped. The voice was melodious and soft. Inhuman.
“You!” I grabbed the railing and leaned over the side. Isolfr floated in the water, his eyes wide and shining, gazing up at me. “Did you put a spell on Kolur and Frida?”
He slid into the water so that his shoulders and neck and most of his chin were submerged.
“You did.” I clung to the railing like it could save me. “Kolur!” I shouted. “Kolur, wake up.”
“He won’t.” Isolfr’s voice was quiet, a rush of whis
pers to blend in with the roar of the sea. “He won’t wake up.”
I stared down at him. Cold horror crawled up the inside of my stomach. “What did you do to him?”
“Made sure he slept through the night.” Isolfr rose out of the waves, looking indignant. “Maybe I was helping him. Frida Kuhn, too.” He wore a dark tunic and his pale skin gleamed in the moonlight. “I just want them to sleep.”
“No, you don’t.” I wished now I hadn’t kicked my bones across the deck, since I would have liked something to throw at him. “What are you doing? What do you want?” I paused. “What are you?”
His eyes went wide again. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought him scared.
“Well?” I said.
He dove under the water.
I cursed and screeched in vexation. Across the boat, Kolur snorted but didn’t wake up.
“Answer me!” I shouted into the water. Isolfr was down there, a dark shadow moving beneath the waves. “Tell me what the hell is going on. What do you want?”
The shadow moved back and forth. I was certain it would disappear. But then Isolfr’s head crept up, water streaming through his hair. He looked like silver.
“Am I going to get an answer out of you?” I demanded.
“Only if you ask the right question.” His lifted his chin, almost like he was trying to be brave. My heart slowed. Maybe he really was scared. Now, there was a thought. That this strange shimmering magical creature was afraid of me.
“What are you?”
He shook his head.
“What do you want?”
He paused. Opened his mouth. Closed it. The water sloshed around him. Finally he said, “To help.”
“Help with what?”
“I can’t tell you yet.” He paused. “There are—factors.”
I sighed. “Fine. Why did you enchant Kolur and Frida? They ignore me if I try to tell them about you.”
“They can’t know about me.” His eyes flicked back and forth. “It would be—dangerous right now. I can’t reveal my identity to them. But I can reveal it to you.”
“I don’t know your identity.”
“I told you my name.”
I sighed and leaned my elbows against the railing. Even with my coat, I was getting cold out here. I rubbed my arms. It didn’t do much.