“Maybe. Probably,” Dagny allowed. “But is that the most pressing concern you have?”
“No.” I looked at her, and I still felt dazed and overwhelmed. “What is my most pressing concern?”
“Getting ready to go to Áibmoráigi tomorrow and thinking of questions that you want to ask your father,” Dagny suggested.
“I would also say that eating something and decompressing should be fairly high on your list.” Pan nudged the plate of food toward me.
My stomach was getting grumbly, but the sliders—their buns all soggy and purple from the beets—didn’t look that appetizing. It must’ve been nearly lunchtime, because a few couples had come into the restaurant. They were all sitting away from us, near the windows, but I lowered my voice a bit after they came in anyway.
“How does one go about decompressing after receiving several bits of life-changing news?” I asked.
“I know of three ways.” Dagny held up her hand to count down on her fingers. “Food, fresh air, and friendship. I’m already here for the friendship, so got that.” She folded one finger down. “I’m going to talk to the waiter now and see if they can scrounge up something a bit more decadent. And then we can go for a walk around town, taking in the sights and clearing our heads.” She folded down the next two fingers in rapid succession.
I took a deep breath and nodded. “That’s a good idea. I promised Hanna I’d take some pictures while we’re here anyway.”
“Perfect.” Dagny looked around for the waiter, but he was oddly focused on wiping down the bar. “I’ll be right back.”
When she went over to talk to him, Pan watched her for a moment, and then he got up and slid onto the bench next to me. Quietly, with his dark eyes resting heavily on me, he asked, “How are you doing?”
“Honestly?” I shook my head and gave him a sad smile. “I’m here, and you’re here with me. So it can’t be that bad, right?”
“That’s sound like something I would say.”
I laughed. “Yeah, it does.”
“Glad to see I’m finally rubbing off on you.”
Dagny returned a few minutes later with some type of fruit bars that were slightly too sweet and utterly delicious. While we ate, she chatted with the couple at the table nearest to us to plan out our hiking route, and by the time we were done eating, she knew exactly where we were going.
That’s how we went through town, Dagny on one side of me, Pan on the other. The fresh air did feel amazing, crisp and clean, and except for the times when it smelled like fish, it was really nice. We strolled around town for an hour, maybe a little longer, and I really was feeling a lot better. With their help, I had even made a clear plan of what I wanted to talk to Indu about tomorrow.
We split up outside Öhaus. Pan and Dagny went back to help Elof, and I said I would join them later. First I wanted to head up to my room to write down everything I wanted to talk to Indu about. There were big obvious questions I wouldn’t forget, but there were a lot of smaller ones that still mattered, and I didn’t want important things overlooked because I was feeling overwhelmed and frazzled.
At the hotel, I went in and headed toward the stairs to my room, but the girl working the front desk called after me.
“Miss?” She stepped out from behind the desk, tentatively holding something toward me. It was a white envelope, closed with an indigo wax seal. “A gentleman stopped by, and he left this for you.”
My name was scrawled across the front, so I took it from her, and she gave me a timid smile. She looked about thirteen, with long brown hair and bright blue eyes (another Skojare-Trylle union on the island, I imagined), but there was something familiar about her sheepish boredom.
It wasn’t that long ago that I was just like her, working at an inn, trapped in a tiny subarctic town and longing to get out.
“What’s your name?” I asked her.
“Minnie.”
“Thank you, Minnie. You’re doing a really good job here.”
She gave me a weird look, then muttered, “Thanks?”
I took my note and headed up to my room.
41
Directions
“This doesn’t seem weird to you?” Dagny asked, predictably skeptical, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. The four of us—Dagny, Pan, Elof, and myself—were crowded into my little hotel room, taking turns interpreting the note I’d been sent.
After I’d read the note, I’d done research online and written out my questions for Indu. Before I’d finished, I’d heard Dagny, Pan, and Elof talking in the hall on their way to their own rooms, and I’d called them into my room to help make sense of this.
“Of course it seems weird to me,” I said. I stood in front of the window, the thick drapes open to let in the bright early-twilight sun. “But every part of this seems weird.”
Pan was the one holding the note now, rereading the slip of paper over and over again before finally asking, “What if it’s a trap?”
“It might be.” Elof sat on the end of my bed, next to Dagny. His expression was almost eerily placid, while hers was scrunched up as she tried to solve a puzzle when she didn’t have nearly enough pieces.
“That’s not very comforting, Elof,” Pan said with a disapproving look.
“It’s not meant to be,” Elof replied with a shrug. “I don’t know this Indu Mattison. Ulla knows the most about him, and she doesn’t seem to trust him that much.” He paused long enough for me to scoff in agreement. “And the stories I’ve heard about the Älvolk don’t instill a lot of confidence in me either.”
“So, what should we do?” Dagny asked.
“I want to go,” I answered when Elof didn’t, then I corrected myself with more conviction. “I have to.”
Without hesitation, Pan said, “If you go, I’ll go. I won’t let you do this alone.”
“I can handle it,” I told him, even if I couldn’t be sure that was true.
“It doesn’t matter if you can or you can’t.” He looked at me, his dark eyes solemn. “I started this journey with you. I want to finish it with you.”
“And I want to see what the Älvolk are up to in the First City,” Elof said, and I lowered my eyes, breaking the intense look with Pan.
“So we’re all going,” Dagny decided, then stood up and took the note from Pan. “Whether it’s a trap or not.”
I was summoned back home on an urgent matter, and the travel is so long, I will not be back to Isarna to meet you as we planned.
If you can begin the journey yourself, there is a place we can meet on Lake Sodalen. It’s northwest of Kiruna, near the mountain station. The road ends, and you’ll have to travel by foot. Humans run a quiet, discreet restaurant on the lake, Norra av Nord. I will be there at 1700 h tomorrow. If you wish to go to Áibmoráigi and find out more about yourself and our destiny, meet me then.
I hope to see you. But if not, I want you to know that I am glad to have met you, and that I am happy to have a strong, beautiful daughter like you.
Yours,
Indu
“So we leave in the morning, very early if we hope to make it on time.” Elof stood up. “We should all get some rest. Tomorrow will be a very long day.”
Elof and Dagny left, Dagny already muttering to herself about figuring out the quickest way to go. Pan stayed behind, and when the door had shut behind them, he turned to me.
“You okay?”
I rolled my eyes and a bitter smile stung my lips. “You keep asking that.”
He took a step closer to me but seemed to change his mind. He looked past me, squinting in the sunlight, and chewed the inside of his cheek. “You don’t mind that I’m going tomorrow?”
“I don’t want you getting hurt,” I admitted.
He smiled crookedly. “I don’t want you getting hurt either.”
“So we’re even, then.”
“It seems that way.” Slowly, almost hesitantly, he walked over and leaned against the wall beside me. “I don’t trust him, Ulla.”
/> “Indu?” I asked, and he nodded.
“He might be your father, but you need to be safe around him,” he said emphatically. “There’s something really off about him.”
“I’m not letting my guard down,” I promised him.
“Good.” He smiled again, this time a soft, subtle one that barely played on his full lips. “I should let you go and get some sleep,” he said, but it sounded more like a question.
“It’s probably going to be a while before I fall asleep. You can stay if you want.”
“How were you planning to pass the time?”
“Anxious pacing, obsessive worrying, scrounging up what passes for room service out here.”
“That all sounds good,” he said with a laugh. He paused before he went on, a light smile still on his lips but his smoldering gaze had locked onto mine. “But may I make a suggestion?”
“Go for it.”
“How about…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking down to my mouth, and he leaned in closer to me, tentatively, giving me time to pull away if I wanted, but I didn’t pull away, and my breath had gone shallow.
I closed my eyes when I felt his lips brush against mine, gentle at first, but then more fervently, his tongue parting my lips. Heat rushed through me, coming from deep in my belly, where the butterflies swirled warmly.
Then he stopped, his eyes searching mine, and the way the sunlight hit him then—his eager bedroom eyes glimmering hopefully, and the nervous smile that twitched on his mouth—he was so handsome.
His breath was heavy and his voice husky when he asked, “Or is that not okay?”
“No, that’s…” I trailed off, overwhelmed by how badly I wanted to kiss him again. “I want to do more of that.”
So I kissed him, and I felt his restraint crumble. His hand was on my side, pressing into the soft flesh beneath my shirt, and he pushed me against the window. I wrapped my arms around him, kissing him deeply.
I was so focused on him—on my fingers in his hair, his mouth on mine, and his hands roaming all over—that I didn’t notice my feet slipping on the floor, not until it was too late, but Pan caught me with ease.
I laughed—giggled nervously. “Maybe we should try the bed.”
“Beds are always better,” he agreed.
With an arm around my waist, he stepped backward, and then we tumbled back onto the bed. He knelt on it and pulled off his flannel shirt, so he was down to a white tank top that wonderfully showed off his firm biceps. I decided to do the same—pulling off my shirt so I was left in my pink bralette.
Then we were kissing again, and I wrapped my arms around him. His hand went to the thin fabric covering my breasts, and it was slipping off them when I heard the door creak open.
“Hey, so I talked it over with Elof, and—” Dagny was saying as she sauntered into my room, while Pan sat up and I scrambled to pull on my shirt. “Oh!” Her eyes widened, then she turned slightly to the side and used one of her hands to partially shield her eyes. “Is this happening now? For real?”
“No, it’s not—” Pan began, then he grimaced and shook his head.
“It wasn’t…” I’d gotten my shirt on, which did little to help the burning in my cheeks. “What are you doing in here?”
Dagny peeked around her hand, and we must’ve been dressed enough—Pan was slowly buttoning his flannel shirt up again—because she turned back to face us. “You left the door unlocked.”
“Well, you left the door unlocked, since you’re the one who left,” I countered. “So that’s on you, really. All of this is.”
“Was I interrupting?” She stepped back toward the door. “Do you want me to come back later?”
“Clearly, you were interrupting, but you’re here, so … Why are you here?”
“Just letting you know that we booked transport for the last leg of the trip,” she explained. “Elof wasn’t sure if he could handle all that hiking, so we got a couple guys to drive us out on their Polaris UTVs to Norra av Nord. That cuts the time in our trip by a lot, so we can leave a couple hours later. So, good news, you two have more time to—”
“Dagny…” I protested.
She waved me off. “Oh, please. It’s only weird if you make it weird. You’re grown up, you’re nice, have fun.”
“Thank you for your awkward blessing,” I told her, but I still didn’t feel comfortable meeting her eyes.
“I’ll leave you guys be.” She headed toward the door, and back over her shoulder she said, “If I need anything else, I’ll be sure to knock.”
“Thanks. That’s generally a really great policy!” I called after her.
“Don’t stay up too late,” she said and closed the door behind her.
I looked back at Pan with a sheepish smile. “So…”
“So.” He’d been standing beside the bed since Dagny burst in, but he climbed back on and leaned over me. He brushed back my hair from my face, letting his thumb trail across my cheek, and he kissed me gently. He stopped, but he caressed my face a moment longer before saying, “I should head back to my room.”
“Yeah? Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” I asked hopefully. “A bit longer.”
“I do. I really do.” He straightened up and let his hand fall to his side. “But the next few days are going to be long and stressful, and I don’t want us to rush into anything and then have it all blow up because we’re overwhelmed and far from home.”
I swallowed the uncomfortable lump in my throat. “Those are perfectly reasonable reasons.”
“I am taking a page from your playbook back in Fulaträsk.”
“That’s why your argument sounded so succinct and smart,” I teased.
“Yeah. That’s why.”
I pulled at a loose thread on the hem of my shirt, which suddenly seemed very important. “But this is just a … pause, right?”
“Oh, yeah, this is definitely just a pause until we get back,” he agreed immediately.
“Until we get back,” I echoed.
“Ulla,” he said, so I’d look back up at him again, and when I did, he kissed me—softer, sweeter than before. “I mean it. But I gotta go now.” He stood up. “Good night, Ulla.”
“’Night, Pan.”
42
Sodalen
Our time on the island of Isarna ended the way it began: a carriage ride from the hotel to the ferry, taking us back to mainland Sweden. From there, I drove the rental car, Dagny once again serving as the copilot, and we spent hours admiring the vast Arctic summer in full bloom.
Dagny had carefully mapped our route based on Indu’s note, and it turned out to be very accurate. A little over five hours later, we found ourselves at the end of the road. The last hundred kilometers, the road took us through a narrow valley, winding alongside rivers and lakes, with the snowcapped Scandinavian mountains towering over us.
Even though we made it to the end of the road a little early, the guys with the UTVs were already there. Which was good, because it didn’t allow much time for any awkward conversations with Pan. We’d hardly spoken all morning, at least not directly to one another, beyond clipped banalities, like, “It’s a nice morning.”
The UTVs were basically a hybrid of a four-wheeler and a Jeep Wrangler, with big wheels, three seats, and roll-top bars with a roof. After the road ended, the terrain was too rough for any standard vehicles.
I rode with Dagny one the driver, the guys following behind us in their UTV. Dagny had offered to sit in the middle, since it was easier to ask the driver questions, and she wanted to make the most of her guided tour through the valley. That was fine by me. I hung on to the bar and leaned back, letting the chilly air blow through my hair as I took in the surreal splendor around me.
The path ended with the mountains forming a cul-de-sac around Lake Sodalen. It was the largest of the lakes we’d passed in the valley, and “over thirty meters deep,” our driver told us, shouting over the engine in his cheery Swedish accent.
On the far northwestern side
of the lake, Norra av Nord sat in the shadow of the highest peak. Sitting there, out of the bright evening sun, on the edge of mirrored lake, it looked like a restaurant at the end of the world.
It seemed to be the most improbable location to do business, but every step along the way there had been humans. Hiking, kayaking, taking photographs (mostly taking photographs, honestly). Not a lot, but more than I anticipated for someplace so far out. In Iskyla, we’d never had this much tourism, but then again, we hadn’t been home to stunning vistas and such tall mountains.
The UTVs dropped us outside the restaurant. Everyone took turns going in to get something to eat and to admire their small souvenir section, while the others watched out front for any sign of Indu. I’d gone in first, settling on a bottle of water and a wooden Swedish Dala horse for Hanna. I walked a few feet away from the restaurant, where humans milled about, and I opened my duffel bag and traded the souvenir for my Moleskine notebook.
I had written down a few questions, the way Dagny had suggested, but that’s not what I was looking at now. We were heading to Áibmoráigi and the home of Älvolk, and I wanted to refresh myself with everything I knew one last time.
It was chilly in the shadows, and I pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my hands. My notebook fell open to the page where I’d tucked the maps. When I’d been in the archives, Calder had let me look at a book about the Älvolk, and I’d traced the maps and diagrams of the Älvolk. On the back of the maps, I had written only one thing, a phrase I had copied from the same book: The sun sets in the green sky when the good morning becomes the violent night.
Behind me, I heard footsteps as Pan walked over to join me, and I put the notebook back in my bag.
“He’s late,” Pan said.
“I’m not that surprised, honestly,” I admitted.
“How long will we wait?”
I shrugged. “Until they ask us to leave.”
“I don’t think they do that around here.” He looked to the south side of the restaurant, where a few tents were set up in a camping area.
The Morning Flower Page 20
