The Ever After

by Amanda Hocking

  About two dozen animals occupied the small farm. A few angora goats, a pair of potbellied pigs, five chickens, several fat Gotland rabbits, and an adorable grump of a pony named Calvin. I’d gone out to the barn with Liam and Emma, so we could visit the animals and take care of them. One of Liam’s chores was feeding the chickens, and Emma attempted to help by mostly dumping feed all over the ground.

  “Ulla!” Hanna shouted, and she walked into the barn, holding a cordless phone outstretched toward me. Flour dusted the ends of her dark ringlets, and her apron was stained with dark purple plums from the pies she’d been stress-baking.

  Since her grandfather hadn’t revealed all the secrets of the universe (or confirmed Hanna’s pet theory that she was the princess of some far-off land), Hanna had been in a rather sour mood.

  “Who is it?” I stepped out of the chicken pen, and I hoped it was Pan. We’d been playing phone tag all morning, with my sleeping through his calls and him not answering mine.

  Hanna shrugged. “Dunno. Grandma answered and she thought they sounded important.”

  “Thanks.” As I took the phone from her, I heard more feed spilling on the floor, immediately followed by Emma and the chickens squawking excitedly. “Can you watch the kids for a second?”

  “Fine.” She sighed and walked into the chicken pen while I slipped out to the pasture to take the phone call in privacy.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hello, Ulla,” Elof said. I was happy to hear his voice, but my heart sank a little because it wasn’t Pan. “How are you doing?”

  “Good,” I said, too earnestly. “I mean, considering everything. How are you?”

  “Oh, I’ve been better,” he admitted with a weary sigh. “Although I am riding the little ego boost after being declared a very important troll by that lovely woman who answered the phone. It sounds like you and Hanna have a winsome family.”

  “They are fantastic,” I agreed. “Did you need something?”

  “I only wanted to give you an update. Or a warning, as it were,” he said, sounding rather ominous. “We’ve been trying to recover memories.”

  I walked across the field and leaned against the stone wall, and I stared down the hillside. “Have you made any progress?”

  “Well, yes, in that we learned that aural healing is too volatile and dangerous for memory recovery,” he said with forced optimism. “We hadn’t known that before, and we do now.”

  “What are you talking about? I tried aural healing, and I was fine,” I said, but even I knew I was downplaying overheating so much I needed an ice bath. I wanted a day or two of rest before doing more healing with Sunniva, but I did plan on doing it again.

  “We tried it this morning, with one of the Ögonen attempting to heal Dagny’s aura,” he explained. “It was under my supervision, with Mästare Amalie instructing the Ögonen through their psychic communication. Before you worry, Dagny is all right. A bit singed and worn out, but she’s recovering fine.”

  “Recovering? What happened?” I asked.

  “We knew overheating would be an issue, so we had taken precautions,” he went on. “But ten minutes in, Dagny … well, she was basically cooking.”

  “Alai.” I gasped. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Her eyebrows actually had embers burning, and we immediately stopped and got her in the ice bath. Amalie brought in a healer, and they were able to reverse most of the internal damage. Her left eyebrow will take a bit to fully grow back, but she’s otherwise fine.”

  I exhaled. “That sounds horrifying. I’m glad she’s okay.”

  “Me too,” he agreed heartily. “But it also means that aural healing with the Ögonen isn’t a viable option for us. Dagny was lucky she made it without any permanent damage, and she was only under for a matter of minutes. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough time to make much headway into the memories. She only remembered something about a boulder on a mountain and following an elk through it.”

  “What about me?” I asked. “I had some memories come back when Sunniva Kroner tried it with me.”

  “You overheated when she tried it, and the Ögonen are more powerful,” Elof reminded me grimly. “I don’t want to risk cooking you alive to recover a few memories.”

  “So then, what’s the plan?” I asked. “If aural healing is too dangerous right now. What are you trying next?”

  “I don’t really know yet,” he admitted. “I have been working on an infused serum, but it hasn’t proven effective yet. Dagny’s looking into incantations, trying to reverse the spell they used on us.”

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid I don’t really have much of a way of direction for you,” Elof said. “If you find something worth pursuing, you ought to do it, but you need to be safe.”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “I’m sorry that I don’t have better news for you,” he said. “But I wanted to warn you about the issues with aural healing before you got hurt.”

  “I understand, and thank you,” I said.

  “I don’t know how much help I can be so far away from you, but if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  “Do you know anything about why the Älvolk wanted the sorgblomma?”

  “I don’t know much about the plant,” he said. “We Vittra consider it to be sacred, and all scientific testing on it has been banned for fear of damaging it. So all I can really say is that the kingdom was not happy about surrendering it.”

  10

  Sisterly

  Hanna was in her room, lying on her bed reading Jem-Kruk and the Adlrivellir.

  She’d been hiding in her room since supper, which was unlike her. When she needed space from her younger siblings, she would escape outside, playing in the woods that surrounded her house. But even then, she wasn’t ever gone for long. She got bored and lonely fast.

  “How are you doing?” I asked as I poked my head in the doorway.

  “I’m okay.” She dog-eared the page she was reading, and set her book aside.

  I went into the room and sat on Emma’s bed, across from her. “Are you sure? You’ve seemed kinda down since the video chat.”

  “I’m not down.” Hanna stared up at the ceiling and frowned. “I’ve just been reading the Jem-Kruk book because I was so sure that it would somehow help us find Eliana, and when you came back, I was certain you’d bring the key to all of it.”

  She fell quiet for a moment, chewing her lip. “You know I was worried about you when you were gone.”

  “I do know that, and I’m sorry. I never meant to worry you or anyone else.”

  “Duh, Ulla.” She smiled weakly at me. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything. I’m saying it was scary when you were gone. Mom and Dad tried telling us that everything was fine, but I could see how worried they were. And for Dad to look that upset, I knew things had to be bad.

  “But I never gave up,” she went on. “I always knew you’d come home safe. But I also knew that you’d come back with answers, and we’d be able to get Eliana.”

  I swallowed hard. “I wish I had more answers. And I haven’t given up on finding Eliana either.”

  “How? Where are you looking?” Hanna’s voice grew more anxious as she spoke, and she sat up on her bed. “You can’t go back to where you came from, even if you remembered where it was. It’s way too dangerous.”

  “I’m not going back anytime soon,” I replied carefully. “Right now I’m just trying to remember what happened when I was gone.”

  “So then where are you going?” she asked.

  “Who says I’m going anywhere?” I countered.

  “I heard Mom and Grandma talking. Mom said she was going to put a real bed in the playroom for you. But you told her no, not to bother.”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing yet,” I admitted. “And you do have a pretty full house here. I don’t think me sacking out in the playroom forever is the best plan for any of us.”

  She snorted.
“So you’re biding your time until you can go find your real family?”

  “Hanna.” I got up and went over to sit next to her. “You and your family are my family. But I’m nineteen, and I want to find out what happened to my birth family. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, or that I’m going to cut you out of my life.”

  She stared down at the floor, chewing the inside of her cheek as she worked things over in her head. “Not even for your real sisters?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because this fell out of the book.” She opened it and pulled out a napkin that had been pressed between the pages.

  Indu had given it to me when Pan and I first met him in Isarna, back before he stole my blood, back when he was still trying to get me to trust him. On a napkin at the tea shop, he’d written the names of four of my sisters.

  In my efforts to find him, I’d discovered records that he’d fathered children with the Omte, Trylle, and Skojare. But all of them had died in infancy. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Indu about that—at least not that I remembered—but he’d been happy to tell me about his four daughters who were still alive.

  The names had been written on the napkin for me:

  Noomi Indudottir (her mother was Skojare)

  Bryn Aven (her mother Runa Aven is Skojare)

  Minoux Moen (with Asta Moen, also Skojare)

  Juno Indudottir (due in August with Bekk)

  Noomi had been my prison guard, if my recovered memories were correct, and she lived in Áibmoráigi with Indu, so I didn’t plan on catching up with her anytime soon.

  Minoux Moen and Asta I’d never heard of before and didn’t know where to find them, but the Skojare had a rather small kingdom. They most likely lived in Isarna in Sweden or in the capital city of Storvatten in Canada.

  But Bryn Aven and Bekk Vallin I knew. Bryn had been the one to get me out of Iskyla five and a half years ago, and we’d kept in touch since then. I had met her parents once—her Skojare mother and her Kanin father—but Indu was claiming that he was really her father.

  Bekk had been the one to help me find Indu in the first place, but she’d also been the one to give Indu a forewarning that I was on his trail. To top it off, she was pregnant with his child, something she’d done on purpose for reasons I didn’t fully understand.

  But considering the average life expectancy of Indu’s children and that he had held me hostage and stolen my blood, I had plenty of reason to believe his other daughters could be in danger.

  “Those are your sisters, right?” Hanna asked.

  “They might be,” I allowed.

  “You should talk to them.”

  I looked over at her. “I’m surprised to hear you saying that.”

  “No, I know I’m just being silly.” She suddenly sounded tired. “And you’re right. We’re family now, no matter what, so if you have more sisters, that just means I have more sisters too.” She smirked. “Not that I need more sisters.”

  I laughed.

  “But is that Bryn your friend Bryn?” Hanna asked, and I nodded. “Did you know she was your sister before?”

  “I still don’t know that she is,” I corrected her. “But I never thought she might be until Indu mentioned it.”

  “When are you going to tell her?” Hanna pressed.

  I sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m always happy to tag along, and I think I’ve proven myself a worthy sidekick.”

  “Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s how you describe your time in Merellä?”

  “I helped you and kept you fed. I’m basically the Alfred to your Batman.”

  I laughed again. “I do not think that’s an accurate description of us at all.” I smiled down at her. “I missed you, kid.”

  “I missed you too.”

  11

  Missed

  I couldn’t sleep, even though I was exhausted. I’d spent the day chasing kids and the evening planning my next move. The twins slept soundly in their cribs, while I tossed and turned on the air mattress.

  I didn’t want to disturb them, so I grabbed my cell phone and crept down the stairs. Everyone was asleep, so I could’ve just hung out in the living room without bothering anyone, but it was a beautiful night.

  I went outside and sat on the front steps. The air was strangely still but with a slight chill, and the moon was nearly full, bathing the secluded yard in cool light. The house was at the edge of Förening on a gravel road that wound down the hillside. It was still a hundred feet above the river that cut through the tall bluffs, but most of the town was built up higher, closer to the peak and surrounding the royal palace.

  The town in general was quiet, but out here, with everyone sleeping, it was only the far-off sound of the river and a nearby owl hooting in the trees. I took my phone out and pulled up the voicemail Pan had left me earlier that evening. I’d been in the shower after a diaper blowout incident with Luna, and I had missed his call, again.

  Twice already, I’d listened to his message, but I hit Play again.

  “Hey, Ulla,” Pan said, his deep voice sounding disappointed. “I was hoping to talk to you, but our epic game of phone tag continues. At least I got to hear your voice on the outgoing message.”

  After a brief pause, he said, “I probably shouldn’t have said that.” His audible embarrassment made me smile and tears formed in my eyes. “I didn’t mean it in a creepy way. I just … I miss you.”

  For a moment, it was only the sound of him breathing. I stared up at the moon. Clouds moved rapidly across it, despite a total lack of wind. They were thin—altostratus clouds if I remembered correctly from Liam’s Big Book of Weather—so I could easily see the moon through them, but they gave the night sky an eerie chartreuse glow.

  “It’s all so frustrating.” Pan’s recorded voice cut through the night. “I’m trying to get back into the swing of things. Me and Brueger are working tonight, herding the woollies around. But first I’m going to stop by and bring Dagny something to eat.

  “I don’t know how much you know,” he went on. “Dagny said that Elof warned you about the aura dangers. She’s okay, but she’s super grumpy because Elof made her take the rest of the day off. But I thought I’d check on her anyway. Plus, Brueger’s been pretty fond of her since she dog-sat him back in June.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I’ll be in and out most of the night, so I don’t know when you’ll be able to reach me,” he said with a sigh. “But just give me a call when you can.”

  He went silent for a second, then, “I hope everything is going well for you. Stay safe. Bye, Ulla.”

  The voicemail ended, and even though it was late, I decided to give it a shot. I dialed the number for Pan’s apartment, willing him to pick up the phone.

  “Hey, this is Pan Soriano. I can’t get to the phone, so leave a message, and I’ll get back to you when I can.”

  “Hi, Pan.” I cleared my throat to rid it of the painful lump. “It’s Ulla. Obviously. I don’t know if you’re working or sleeping, and if you’re sleeping, I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I probably shouldn’t have called so late. I just couldn’t sleep, and I thought maybe …

  “I just wanted to tell you that I’ve decided what I’m going to do next,” I confessed to his voicemail. “I want to get back to Merellä, but I don’t know how that will work since my internship is over. There’s a bunch of stuff I need to sort out.

  “So I decided to check with someone I trust,” I went on. “Indu says that my friend Bryn is my sister, and I’ve known her way longer than I’ve known him. I called her up today, and she still lives in Doldastam. I asked if it would be okay if I came up for a visit for a few days, and she said sure.

  “It’s the kind of conversation that’s better in person, and she said she had a couple days off coming, so it all works out really. So. Tomorrow I’m heading up to Doldastam.”

  I sighed and stared up at the eerie sky and the rapidly shifting clouds. “It’s good. I�
�m looking forward to it, honestly. But … I know it’ll be longer before I see you again. I don’t even know when I’ll talk to you. I’ll be on the road or on a train, moving slowly across the Canadian wilderness, so I have a feeling that this game of phone tag is only going to get more epic.

  “I can’t complain too much,” I said sullenly. “But I want to anyway. Everything feels so up in the air.

  “But I am okay. Better than Dagny, it sounds like. Since you’ll probably talk to her before I do, tell her I’m thinking of her, and I hope she feels better soon. I hope you’re doing good—that all of you in Merellä are good—and I can’t wait until we actually talk.”

  I took a deep breath. “Bye, Pan.” My voice caught in my throat and I hung up so I could let out the sob I’d barely been holding back.

  I missed him so badly. I had a constant dull ache of longing in my chest, and I knew it would remain until I could hold him in my arms again. For the first time, I wondered if all of this was worth it. If maybe it would be better to give up my hunt for the past so I could actually have a present.

  The owl nearby had been hooting the whole time I left the message, but it fell silent. The temperature dropped suddenly, and goose bumps sprang up on my arms. I waited for a minute for wind or rain to follow, but it never did. The air remained perfectly still, and the clouds moved in, finally blotting out the moon. It was dark and cold, so I went back inside the house.

  12

  Studious

  The worst part of leaving was mostly behind me—telling the kids I was leaving again. Surprisingly, Hanna took it the best, but she understood that I’d be back. Emma started wailing, and then Niko and Lissa joined in.

  It had been a rough morning, and it wasn’t even eight-thirty A.M. We’d thought it would be better to do it before Finn left for work. By the time I went up to the room to finish getting ready to go, everyone had stopped crying, except for Emma, but she spent twenty percent of her days crying.