“I believe it.” I scanned the roofs, looking for anything to distract me from the warm flutter in my belly. “I think I see our place over there.”
He leaned in closer and asked, “Oh, yeah?”
“Don’t be silly,” Dagny chastized me, and she was suddenly at my elbow, pulling me away from the window. “We don’t even live on that side of town.”
“Uh, right, yeah.” I cleared my throat, then sat down on the cranberry-colored sofa. “I’m so bad with directions. I’m always getting them mixed up.”
“Uh-huh,” Jem said as his eyes bounced between the two of us.
“How long have you been here?” Dagny asked.
She’d left me on the couch, returning to her slow walk around the tiny apartment, frequently pausing to inspect the few personal belongings that were visible. Books with the library stamp on the spines—The History of Merellä, Troglecology in the 21st Century, The Traumatized Brain, The Girl on the Train, National Audubon Society Field Guide to Insects and Spiders, and The Winter Garden: A Horticulture Guidebook.
Once she’d flipped through them, she moved on to the small pile of jewelry on the bookshelf—rings, leather cuffs, and bracelets—touching each piece.
“Not that long,” Jem answered her.
His long, dark hair had been pulled back, woven in thick braids that were twisted into a knot at the back of his head. A few strands of hair had gotten free, and he absently tucked them behind his ear as his eyes tracked Dagny.
“Are you looking for something?” he asked, and she set his potted succulent back on the countertop.
“Can I use the bathroom?” she asked instead of dealing with his pointed inquiry.
“Yeah.” He pointed to the door off the kitchen. “It’s through the bedroom.”
I waited until she’d gone into the other room to whisper, “Sorry about her.”
“So, she is behaving strangely?” he asked, and a relieved smile spread across his face. “It seemed odd to me, but I don’t know her.”
“Yeah, she’s coming on a little strong,” I admitted. “She’s just…” I trailed off, unsure of how to finish without offending him.
“Worried?” he supplied, and I reluctantly nodded. Jem sat down beside me on the couch, tilting his knees slightly toward me. “Are you worried?”
I chewed my lip. “Would you blame me if I was?”
“No, no, of course not,” he said. “You don’t have any reason to worry, not from me. But I can see how unusual and concerning this whole situation might seem to you.”
“So, you’re saying where you come from, it’s not normal for a guy from a secret lost tribe to come back after kidnapping an amnesiac stranger?” I asked, and he laughed.
“You remind me of someone.” His smile deepened, and he looked at me closely.
The light filtered through the curtains, hitting his deep-set eyes so that the flecks of bronze sparkled in the black walnut irises, and it complemented the copper constellation of freckles across his broad cheeks.
“Who?” I asked.
“Someone back home.” He raised a shoulder in an indifferent shrug, and his gaze shifted, looking past me and out the window.
His exaggerated nonchalance piqued my curiosity, so I sat up straighter and asked, “A girlfriend?”
“A friend.” He looked back at me with a knowing smile. “Not that girlfriend is really a term we use back home.”
“What do you call it, then?”
“Veloma, or maybe klampiveleska,” he said, and that was the first time I really noticed his accent—a little more guttural and slowed down. With both words, on the final syllable, he added a strange elongated vibrato to the a, so it became a warbled uhhh.
“I suppose it depends on how you define girlfriend,” he said. “Veloma means ‘the one you choose to be with,’ and klampiveleska is for more serious relationships—‘the one you choose to be joined with.’”
Something about the way he said that made my stomach flip, and I looked away from him.
“I always thought the Nordic languages were lovely,” I said, hating that it sounded a little breathless.
“That’s the language of your tribe?” Dagny asked. I hadn’t noticed her reappear in the kitchen.
“Uh, yeah.” Jem leaned back on the stiff sofa, and he looked over at her. “Most everyone around town speaks it. Some of the outlanders will only talk in irytakki.”
“Where is that town?” Dagny asked him directly. She walked over and sat down on the leather ottoman across from us and crossed her legs.
“Sverige,” he answered coolly.
“Sweden,” I translated for her.
“Sweden’s a big country,” she pressed.
He met her gaze evenly, and he let the silence hang over us for a tense moment. Finally, he replied, “Adlrivellir. It’s in the far north, under the shadow of a mountain. In the winter the sun never rises, and the summer it never sets, but the sky is always endless.”
“That sounds beautiful,” I said. “I’d love to see it someday.”
“It truly is,” he agreed. “Have you ever returned to Sverige?”
I shook my head, but Dagny narrowed her eyes and asked, “Why did you say returned? We’re not from Sweden.”
“I’ve always been told that’s where troll civilization was founded,” he elaborated. “It’s our homeland.”
“It’s interesting that you feel so connected to our heritage when your tribe chooses to live so separately,” Dagny said.
“It’s because I’ve lived so disconnected from your world that I find such an attachment with our past. That’s our only shared history.”
“Why?” Dagny asked. “Why do you care about us at all?”
“Where I come from, we have our way of doing things.” He stared out the window, squinting into the sunlight. “But I’ve always known it wasn’t the only way, and out here I get to see the other opportunities, the other ways it could have been.”
“So then why do you go back?” I asked. “If it’s better here?”
“I never said it was better here,” he said with a wry smile, and my face burned with embarrassment. “But there are a multitude of things that I do truly enjoy here, and yes, some that I prefer.” I’d looked away from him, but I could feel his eyes on me.
“Where I come from isn’t perfect by any means, and it definitely has more than its fair share of dangers, but it’s still my home,” he finished.
“I’ve never really felt that,” I said. “I’ve lived a few places, but I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere that I felt compelled to return to.”
“You’ve never been to Sverige,” he reminded me. the was looking at me and I couldn’t tell if it was an invitation or not.
“What do you mean by dangers?” Dagny asked. “I feel like you sort of glossed over your home being excessively dangerous.”
“Dag, he didn’t say that,” I tried to correct her.
She directed her sharp gaze at him. “You said that where you come from has more than its fair share of danger, and that sounds like the very definition of excessive. So, what would you say, Jem? Is it excessively dangerous?” Her wide eyes blinked with faux-innocence.
Jem-Kruk leaned back, and there was a subtle shift in his demeanor. His legs moved away from me, now tilting more toward the door, and he folded his arms across his chest. He was still smiling, but his dark eyes had settled heavily on Dagny when he said, “I didn’t realize that I’d invited in the inquisition when I welcomed you into my apartment today.”
Dagny matched his gaze, unwavering. “Eliana is my friend too. She was obviously ill, and by your own words, you took her back to a very dangerous place.”
“For what it’s worth, I assure you that she’s safe,” he said.
She looked away from him, staring off into the kitchen. “Elof’s next class starts soon, and I’ve missed enough work for today.” She stood up. “I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
“I should ge
t going too.” I gave him a sheepish smile, and he got to his feet at the same time I did.
“It’s just as well, I have things I need to do today.” Jem walked us to the door. Dagny went out first, and I trailed a step behind her. As I left, he leaned against the door frame, and he said, “Now that you know where I am, there’s no need to be a stranger.”
32
Packed
I’d stayed late in the archives to compensate for missing so much work, but I didn’t know that Calder even really noticed. Since I’d gotten back from Louisiana, he had managed to get more indifferent every day. I didn’t know how it was possible for someone who couldn’t care less to somehow defy logic and care even less than he was capable of not caring.
Regardless, by the time I got home, with ink stains on my fingers and dust in my hair, I was exhausted. It had been a very long, unusual day, and I was looking forward to taking a hot shower.
But my plans were thwarted the instant I stepped through the front door, and I found Dagny flitting about the living room, packing up her oversized vintage suitcase, and singing along to the Nina Simone playing on the stereo.
“What’s going on?” I asked cautiously.
“Oh, good, you’re finally home.” She put her hands on her hips when she turned back to face me. “I thought you’d be home sooner, so you’d have more time. I’ve been packing my stuff up, and I would’ve done yours, but I honestly didn’t know where to start.”
“Pack?” I scratched my head. “For what? Did we get evicted?”
“What? No.” She laughed. “For Sweden. Jem told us exactly where to go. So … I’m getting ready to go.”
“Okay.” I dropped my bag by the door and went into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. “So, do you have any ideas about how we’re going to get across the ocean to another country thousands of miles away?”
“Of course. I’ve got most of it figured out, other than what to pack of yours, obviously.”
“Oh, good, if you’ve got it all figured out, then everything’s good,” I muttered to myself before gulping down cold water.
Dagny started rattling off a list of things she still needed to get together, but she was interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door. I stayed at the kitchen sink, letting her answer it.
“Hey, sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you,” Pan said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Dagny said as she let him in. He came into our apartment, wearing his peurojen overalls with the antlered-heart patch on the chest.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, since he seemed a little out of breath, although the staircase up to our loft apartment had that effect sometimes.
“Yeah, yeah.” He pointed to Dagny’s suitcase where it lay open on the coffee table. “It’s true. You’re leaving.”
“So I’ve been told,” I said dryly.
“How did you hear about that?” Dagny asked. “I’ve only talked to Elof about it.”
“And Elof talked to Sylvi about Ulla’s extended absence, and she told me,” Pan explained.
“Whoa, whoa!” I held my hands up and walked closer to them. “You actually already planned all of this?”
“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “I told you that I had most of it taken care of.”
I gaped at her. “But … we can’t just go to Sweden!”
“Why not?” Dagny asked. “You guys went to that Omte city in Louisiana. This is the path for finding Eliana, your parents, and maybe even rediscovering a lost tribe or the First City.”
“That’s actually why I rushed over here,” Pan said. “I wanted to see if I could go along with you.”
“You’ll have to talk to Elof,” Dagny said. “He’s really the one taking care of most of the details. He’s freed up some grant money from the Troglecology Department to pay for our airfare and some other travel expenses, but he’s already had to allocate enough for the three of us.”
“I’ve got some money saved up,” Pan said quickly. “I can pay for myself. I’d like to go with you.”
“Wait, back up. Elof is going with too?” I asked incredulously.
Dagny looked at me like I was speaking nonsense. “This is his life’s work, and he’s put an immense amount of effort and time into getting this all together on such short notice. Obviously he’s going.”
“Yeah, of course, obviously. How silly of me to not to assume that my flatmate’s boss would be going with me on a transatlantic trip that I knew nothing about,” I muttered. “Is there anybody else going with that I should know about? Calder? Pan’s dog, Brueger? Is Hanna meeting us there?”
Dagny rolled her eyes and went back to folding an ivory turtleneck. “I don’t know why you insist on being so ridiculous all the time.”
“Wait, you didn’t know?” Pan turned to me, his eyes wide with surprise. “Dagny didn’t talk to you about this at all?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been working for the past nine hours, and I only found about this five minutes before you got here.”
“What the heck, Dagny?” Pan demanded. His hands were on his hips, and he sounded so appalled on my behalf I couldn’t help but smile.
“I was being pragmatic.” She turned around to face us. “Ulla was working, and the reception is nonexistent.”
“Dagny!” Pan scoffed. “You work in the same building. You could’ve just gone downstairs.”
She stared down at the wood floor, twisting her bare feet sheepishly. “I know. I didn’t mean for it all to happen this way, honestly. I was talking to Elof and things snowballed from there. Everything really did happen so fast, and I didn’t realize that we’d accidentally left Ulla out of the loop until … well, until everything was done.”
“That’s not really an apology, but okay,” I said grudgingly.
“I’m sorry, Ulla.” She finally looked at me. “But I really think this is the right thing to do, and I thought this is what you’d want and you’d be excited about it.”
I nodded. “You’re right. But next time check with me before you sign me up for anything major.”
“I’ll do what I can,” she agreed with a crooked smile.
“So, what exactly did you sign me up for?” I asked.
“We’re flying out tomorrow night,” Dagny said. “That’s all I know for certain. Elof has been busy talking with the Markis Ansvarig in Sweden to arrange some transportation and sleeping arrangements.” She snapped her fingers. “Which reminds me. I have to call him to get Pan added in. You are serious about that, right?”
“Yeah, I definitely want to do this,” he said.
“I’ll call Elof now, if that’s okay,” she said, and she was already heading toward the phone. “Should I go in the other room so I’m not bothering you? I’ll go in the other room.”
She didn’t wait for a response, so we didn’t bother, and she grabbed the phone and shut the door behind her, mindful of the cord.
“So…” Pan kept his voice low, even though Dagny was in her bedroom. “How are you doing with all of this?”
I laughed weakly and walked over to the couch, then collapsed on it. “Right now I’m mostly feeling tired and overwhelmed.”
“I can imagine.”
My hair was in a messy bun, and I undid it and then ran my fingers through the tangles. Pan pushed Dagny’s suitcase to the side, and he sat on the coffee table across from me.
“Are you really okay with me tagging along?” he asked.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I smiled at him.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You didn’t have much of a say in the planning of all this, so I thought I ought to make sure you had a say about me.”
“Thanks. But Dagny’s right. I want to do this.” My stomach was doing anxious somersaults, and my heart hammered in my chest. As tired as I had been only a few minutes ago, I now felt wired—in an admittedly bone-ass-tired way—and my mind was racing. “It’s exciting. I should be excited.”
“Should be?” he asked, his voice light and teasing.
“I am excited,” I corrected myself, but the uncertainty in my voice was so blatant that we both laughed. “Are you excited?”
“Yeah. But I’m also nervous.”
“Me too.” I pulled my legs up under me. “But I think…”—I looked down at my hands, twirling my rings around my fingers—“if you weren’t going with, I’d feel even more nervous.”
“How does me being there make you feel less nervous?” he asked with a soft laugh.
“I don’t know.” I chewed my lip. “When you’re around, things don’t seem quite so bad. Like even if things get messy or difficult, you’ll be there to offer advice or make me laugh…” I trailed off. “Sorry. I’m tired and rambling.”
“I like it when you ramble.” He leaned forward and placed his hand on my knee, tentatively, softly. I looked down at it, and he jerked his head back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“No, I didn’t—”
“The timing is bad, I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that had just been on my leg.
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed.
“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, Ulla,” he said after a heavy pause.
“I know, I know, and you’re not,” I said. “We’re in a weird space right now, but we can figure it out together … right?”
He met my gaze but didn’t answer right away, and then Dagny came out of her room, rapidly listing all the things Elof suggested we pack and do to get ready. As soon as she burst into the room, Pan stood up, and Dagny filled the space between us with her frenetic packing and loud proclamations.
And he never did answer my question.
33
Ambassadors
Mästare Amalie was talking with Elof when we arrived in the lab the next day. On the island beside me, all our official paperwork was laid out—passports, IDs, documentation, debit cards, everything that humans required to travel abroad and exist in their world.
“You’ve spoken with Patrik Boden, and you have his number?” Amalie asked Elof. As they confirmed their plans, I went over to see how they’d set me up.
The Morning Flower Page 16
