The Flame and the Arrow

by Emigh Cannaday

  Chapter 3

  a walk through the trees

  Autumn had fallen upon the Balkans, splashing the mountains and valleys with orange, red, and yellow. While Annika had enjoyed her extended vacation, she had a long list of new songs she was anxious to share with James and Charlie. On a crisp, sunny day in mid-October she set out on what was to be one of her last hikes, as she was planning to buy a ticket home later that evening.

  Walking everywhere had become the norm, so she decided to make a day of it. She packed a large bottle of water, some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apples, and her journal, just in case she was inspired to write another song. For two hours Annika climbed over hilly mountains, delving deeper and deeper into the dense woods. The day started out so beautiful; the blue skies were dotted with fluffy white marshmallow clouds. She snapped photos with her camera and listened to music on her headphones as she climbed up and down the hilly terrain, too lost in daydreams of her band’s future success to pay attention to just how many miles she’d walked.

  There was a meadow full of wildflowers that she lay down in and jotted down a few notes for lyrics that had come up amidst those daydreams. The sky began to grow dark, so she walked back the way she came, but the terrain beyond the hill looked strange and unfamiliar. She blamed it on the shadows caused by the setting sun, and assured herself that Vince’s house was just over the next hill…but every time she reached the top, it was only another hill. Her stomach turned as adrenaline began to trickle into her bloodstream. It was getting darker by the second, and the only lights to be seen were from the twinkling stars. Annika figured if she just found a place to sleep, things would look familiar again in the morning. She crouched underneath a protective pine tree and tried not to think about how many bears, cougars and wolves lived in the mountains. Besides her t-shirt and jeans with a patch on one knee, all she had to keep her warm was her black-hooded sweatshirt. She tried to remain calm and not panic, and eventually fell asleep, exhausted from walking almost nonstop that day.

  Birds woke her well before dawn’s first light had airbrushed the sky with a deep cerulean hue. She shivered and dug into her bag for her breakfast; her very last peanut butter sandwich and a few precious drops of water to wash it down with. As the sky grew brighter she thought it might help to climb one of the higher hills and try to find Vince’s house from up there. Surely in the sunlight it would be easy to spot. For an hour and a half she forced her legs to climb, only stopping long enough to catch her breath.

  She arrived at the top of the hill, dropped her backpack to the ground and pulled herself into one of the tall fir trees. Her hopeful eyes scanned the horizon in every direction, expecting to see a smattering of red rooftops that were so unique to the region. But everywhere she looked there was nothing but rolling hills, valleys of trees, and occasional meadows. Although it was breathtaking to see, she found little joy in the view. Annika liked to think of herself as a confident person, but for the first time in a long time she began to feel afraid. Not only because she was lost in the wilderness of a foreign country, but she was already running low on water and completely out of food, and what if a bear found her before a person did? It didn’t matter how long she’d studied martial arts, not if that bear weighed five times what she did.

  She noticed a small stream running below her, so she climbed down the hill and decided to follow it. Wherever there was water, there was bound to be a town sooner or later. She tried to be optimistic. At least the warm sun was shining and she had plenty of music to keep her distracted.

  The stream wasn’t a mighty river, but the water was crystal clear. She licked her dry lips in hesitation, then ultimately decided that the risk of giardia was worth quenching her thirst. The water was cool, and she swallowed it in greedy gulps before filling her empty bottle. She looked up and saw a blonde girl in a long white shirt and green sash sneaking down the other side of the river as though she didn’t want to be seen.

  “Hey! Wait up! I’m lost!” Annika called out. The blonde turned around and sure enough, it was the same girl from the bookstore. Annika threw her bag over her shoulders and ran after her, but the girl didn’t stop. She chased her along the stream for at least half a mile where they came to a small waterfall. In front of it was a pool of turbulent water, surrounded by a fine mist. The black rocks surrounding it gave Annika the feeling that it was a very private, sacred place. The barefoot blonde hopped across the stones with ease, but when Annika tried to jump, the rubber sole of her sneaker slipped on the slimy algae, sending her into the deep pool. The shock of the cold water and a sudden sharp pain in her ankle disoriented her, and she accidentally gasped, inhaling what now felt like liquid ice. This caused another surge of pain in her lungs and nose and head. Her waterlogged jeans and sweatshirt were weighing her down, but she forced herself to kick towards the sunlight far above her. Just when she thought she might not make it, her head broke the surface of the water. She grabbed ahold of one of the black rocks and clung on for dear life.

  “Runa, hurry,” a female voice called from behind the waterfall. “It’s going to close any second! Get in here!”

  “I know you remember me from the bookstore!” Annika yelled after coughing up most of the water that stung her nasal passages. “I think I broke my ankle! Come on! You’ve got to help me!”

  The girl’s face was fraught and utterly torn as she stared at Annika.

  “If you come with me now, I don’t think you’ll ever return!”

  “I don’t care! You can’t just leave me here!” Annika shouted, angry and scared.

  “Runa, hurry! It’s starting to close already! You have to come NOW!” two voices screamed urgently from behind the waterfall. Just as frantic, Annika hollered at Runa again.

  “I’m going to drown if you leave me! You have to help me! Please!”

  Runa looked nothing short of terrified, but she dutifully crept out to the rocks where Annika was struggling to keep her nose above the water. She reached down and pulled Annika out with unexpected strength. With her good leg and Runa’s arms guiding her along, she was able to scramble across the other rocks and get to the ledge under the falling water. A messy head of honey colored hair poked out and the other girl from the bookstore appeared, wearing a look of shock. She reached out, grabbed both Annika and Runa, and yanked them violently through to the other side. Annika landed on a hard, wet, stone surface. Her hip took some of the impact, but the pain was nothing in comparison to the fire she felt in her right foot. It hurt so much that she wanted to scream and curse, but she chose to scowl at Runa instead.

  “Why did you run away from me?” Annika demanded. She proceeded to wring the water out of her long red hair but the blonde was silent. “Weren’t you the one chasing me down the street last month?”

  “What in Badra’s name were you thinking, Runa?” the third woman’s voice scolded, sounding ready to boil over at any moment. Annika looked up to see a woman with long black hair and strong, toned muscles, who was dressed the same as Hilda and Runa. Although she was petite like the other two, she looked a bit older than them, and appeared somewhere on the brink of violence as she glared past her high cheekbones at them. The energy emanating from the woman made Annika bow her head slightly and turn away from her as well. She felt afraid to even look her in the eye.

  Instead, she took stock of her surroundings now that her vision had adjusted to the darker light. They were in a narrow-mouthed cave that opened much wider in the middle. Through the dim light coming from a fire in the back and the light filtering in through the waterfall, Annika could see a cozy dwelling covered in thick rugs and pillows. This wasn’t any kind of hideout; this was definitely a home. It was actually pretty nice, for a cave.

  “I cannot believe you, Runa,” the black-haired woman continued, speaking with such a severe tone that both Runa and Hilda hung their heads in shame. “You not only risked your life, but now you have risked ours as well! What are we supposed to do with her?” She turned away from the th
ree wet girls like a disappointed parent. “And you’re not much better, Hilda. You should have let her fend for herself. You know you aren’t supposed to meddle in such things.” Annika felt her anger return, rising in the pit of her stomach. Before she could say anything, Runa beat her to it.

  “Sariel, she’s the one I was telling you about! Just look at her,” Runa stammered. Sariel ignored the remark and walked towards the fire at the back of the cave, sitting sat down with her back towards the others.

  “She’s your problem Runa, not mine,” she said callously from across the room. “And she’s yours as well, Hilda. You two can deal with her.” Annika moaned again in pain as a fiery hot bolt of pain shot through her ankle.

  “I need to get to a doctor. Does anyone have a cell phone?” she asked. They just looked at her blankly.

  “A cell phone?” Hilda repeated, like she’d never heard of one before.

  “She means the little telephones without the string attached,” Runa explained before turning to Annika. “Those don’t work here.” Annika rolled her eyes. She was completely surrounded by morons.

  “Will you drop the cosplay act already?” she growled through gritted teeth. “I need a doctor. My ankle’s killing me.”

  “What you need,” Hilda said calmly, “is to take off your wet clothes before you catch a chill. I need to see your leg.” Annika threw off the soaked backpack and her hoodie easily enough, but peeling off her jeans was more of a challenge. Hilda helped her to a warm spot in front of the fire, where there was an abundance of soft pillows and woven blankets to lie about on. Runa gathered her soaked clothes and wrung them out before hanging them near the fire to dry.

  “Are you a doctor?”

  “I’m a healer. I can mend things like broken legs.” She stopped to give the ankle a soft squeeze, and Annika pressed her lips tight, masking her pain.

  “Ah, not to worry. It’s not broken, but you aren’t going to be using it for a while. You might as well get comfortable,” Hilda said, tossing her a sheer white blouse like her own. It was made out of a strange fabric unlike any other. When Annika took off her t-shirt and put it on, it felt like wearing a warm cloud against her naked skin, yet weighed next to nothing. Noticing the curious look on her face, Runa piped up from where she stood next to the fire,

  “It’s milkweed fluff woven with angora rabbit hair. Isn’t it wonderful? It’s so much softer than your modern clothes.”

  Modern clothes? thought Annika. And they don’t even know what a cell phone is? Jeez, I hope these weirdos don’t make my ankle worse than it already is.

  Runa had come over to make Annika more comfortable, propping her leg up on a pillow and stuffing more cushions behind her back. She proceeded to dry and braid her own hair while Hilda set about gathering dried herbs. It didn’t even seem like a cave anymore. It was a cheerful and cozy little place if you didn’t count the spot that Sariel was sulking in. Annika could see there were a few pieces of furniture scattered about, with wooden bowls and grass baskets overflowing with fruits and vegetables. There were numerous weapons that hung on the walls; three long bows, one petite sized sword, and three small knives with handles made of ebony. There was a soft grinding sound as Hilda ground the herbs using a small mortar and pestle. The hearth around the fire was so large that one of them could almost fit in it standing up. In fact, the only thing that wasn’t cheerful about the place was Sariel, who was standing against one side of the hearth, still ignoring the girls.

  “So, uh, how long do you think before we can get back to Sofia?” Annika wanted to know. “I don’t have a clue where we are. I’m so lost it’s not even funny.”

  “You don’t understand,” Sariel huffed, as though Annika were an idiot. “You can’t go back there. That was the choice you made when you entered our home. You said you didn’t care, remember?” Sariel turned around to cast her guest an icy glare, but it vanished immediately as she gasped, seeing Annika’s face for the first time. Her clenched jaw line grew soft, as did her mouth, and she lost all of her hostile essence as she rushed towards Annika and almost sank to her knees.

  “Dear gods,” she gasped, “you do look just like Magda.” Sariel reached out a hand to caress Annika’s face tenderly, like a mother would touch her child. “But your hair is different.” Sariel’s eyes looked glassy, but she blinked before they could form tears.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Hilda said. “Let us see your waist.”

  “What? No.”

  “Humor us,” Sariel instructed. Annika slowly lifted the soft and warm blouse she wore to reveal her midriff. Her small audience leaned in for a closer look at a particular area above her left hip, almost smacking their heads together.

  “It’s just a birthmark,” Annika said, and let go of the fabric. “It’s nothing special.” But they all continued to stare at her in disbelief.

  “What’s wrong?” She was starting to feel slightly creeped out. The three women each lifted their own gauzy garments. It took Annika a moment to realize what she was seeing, and when she understood what it was, her heart skipped a beat and her skin erupted in goose bumps. They all had a similar version of the same birthmark above their left hip.

  “What does this mean? Do you think we’re related?” asked Annika. “Are you three sisters?” Runa and Hilda grinned to each other.

  “They are,” Sariel said quietly. She had stopped frowning, but wasn’t ready to smile yet. Something still seemed to be bothering her. “Where have you been hiding all this time? How is it that I managed to not keep track of you?” She frowned as though she were inwardly scolding herself, and quite harshly at that.

  “I’m not from here,” Annika tried to explain. “My mom is, but she doesn’t have any family left in the area. My dad’s parents are Norwegian. You know, Vikings.”

  “Vikings?” Runa wondered out loud. “We haven’t seen them in a while.” Not in a while? Annika wondered silently. What were these women thinking? She tried her best to size them up. They could indeed be sisters. Hilda and Sariel looked the most alike, while Runa’s heart-shaped face made her look more like a doll. Sariel had a generous splash of freckles across her nose and arms, but it was her demeanor that set her apart from the others, even more than her jet black hair. There seemed to be a perpetual cloud of fierce negativity hanging over her.

  “It’s a three day walk to the nearest village,” Sariel informed her. “We should leave first thing in the morning. If we get a ride then Annika’s injury shouldn’t slow us down too much.” Confusion clouded Annika’s thinking for a few moments.

  “I know Sofia’s not that far,” she pointed out. “How can it be three days away if I’ve only walked for two? And why wouldn’t we just take a bus or a taxi?”

  “There aren’t any autos here, and we haven’t any horses. We ride the deer of the forest,” Hilda said. Annika buried her face in her hands, shaking her head in frustration.

  “I’m completely fucked, aren’t I?” she muttered. She was growing more and more concerned for her well-being given her present company. “Do you have any friends that I could talk to about getting home?”

  “Yes. In the nearest village, which is three days away,” Runa said in the sweetest voice. “If we ride the deer it should only take two days.”

  “Awesome,” she grumbled. Now that Annika knew she was depending on three strangers with a warped sense of reality, all she could do was play along.

  “How is it that you don’t even recognize your own kind? Don’t you know us?” Runa replied, looking crestfallen. “You said your mother was from here. Doesn’t she have that same mark on her waist?”

  “Yeah, actually, she does,” Annika admitted.

  “I think perhaps you are a relative of our long lost Magda,” Hilda said. “She left us ages ago, and it’s somewhat bittersweet to see you. You look so much like her and we thought she came back. We used to dance and sing together right here on the same river rocks that you fell off of.”

  Annika remembere
d what Tosho had told her about the wood nymphs who wore green sashes and had their clothes stolen by men seeking wives. She had her doubts regarding their sanity, but the business about that birthmark, well, that was perhaps too coincidental to be a coincidence.

  “So you really are the samodivi that I’ve heard about?” she asked slowly, still pretending to believe them. Runa smiled and nodded her head enthusiastically.

  “You are part of us, even if you don’t believe it.”

  “Maybe,” Annika admitted slowly, tracing her fingers over the once boring, now much more interesting birthmark. She began to feel more comfortable with her acquaintances. “When I was growing up, I never understood why other kids never liked to climb trees or explore the woods, or why they didn’t seem to understand how…” she trailed off, lost in sentiment. “They just didn’t understand me.”

  “Of course they didn’t,” Sariel agreed. Her expression had softened up considerably since Annika’s arrival. “You’re not from their tribe. I’ve followed our bloodlines for ages, although there has been a great deal of romantic intermingling between samodivi and humans. Sometimes the traits are so diluted that they become lost, although other times they’re so highly concentrated that you could pass for one of us. Even if your father was a Viking, your mother is still a samodiva.” She paused to look at Runa and Hilda. “Because of that, you belong to two different worlds—that’s why you have never belonged to just one.”

  There was a chord struck in Annika’s heart, and although she wasn’t about to believe everything she was hearing, there was something about what Sariel said that explained years of teenage angst in an instant.

  “That’s exactly how I’ve felt my whole life,” she admitted with hesitation. “Stuck between two worlds.” Sariel’ nodded sympathetically when she heard this.

  “It’s the curse of our mortal children. Some of them, I suppose, are more affected than others.” There was a long silence as the women gave Annika time to let this thought digest properly.

  “So there are others like me?” she asked, ignoring the pain in her ankle.

  “There are actually more like you out there than you know, but it’s so difficult to keep track when you move halfway around your world and ours.”

  “Yes, and it will be especially difficult to follow you now,” Hilda lamented. Annika was still in disbelief by all she was experiencing, unable to look past the insane notion that she might be talking to bona fide wood nymphs.

  “Why especially now?”

  “Because the path that brought you here is now gone,” Hilda replied. “That’s why you can’t simply walk back to your house in Sofia. I think your presence here is an omen.”

  “I’m pretty sure that was just an accident. Are you saying I’m bad luck?”

  “No, silly,” Runa said cheerfully. “She’s saying that you were meant to find your way home…back to your real home. Back to us. However,” she gave a great sigh. “You may be here a long time. Perhaps forever.”

  “Forever?” Annika asked with a healthy dose of skepticism. “Why can’t we just go out the way we came?”

  Hilda brought over the herbal paste she had been making, and when she applied it to Annika’s ankle she shuddered at how cool it felt. She was surprised to feel some of the pain slowly fade as Hilda wrapped it in thin strips of cloth.

  “You can stick your head out through the water, but you won’t like what you see,” Sariel warned. “If you step through it, you’ll be lost indefinitely.” Annika wasn’t sure if she was speaking metaphorically or not, but she looked serious enough.

  “Come on. That’s ridiculous.”

  “Try it then,” Sariel dared. With her foot nicely bandaged up, Annika crawled over to the entrance of the cave, avoiding what bit of puddle still remained from her grand entrance. She stuck her head through the wall of water just enough to see a horrible sight. They sky was lit with blood-red sunlight from a blackened, coal-like sun. The searing hot sky burned her eyes, and on the ground was nothing but a desert of black sand. Instead of water, there was a river of fiery lava cutting through the landscape. She jumped back quickly and retreated to her blankets, feeling the shock of cold water dripping down her back once again.

  “Holy shit! What was that place?” she cried. She blinked and shook her head, but she still saw the eerie vision in her head. She began to seriously wonder if there was some type of hallucinogen in the water she’d drank earlier that day. There was no other explanation in her head for how she wound up in a cave with a bunch of Eastern European hillbilly hippies.

  “We don’t know exactly what it is, but we know someone who might,” Hilda answered somberly.

  “That’s why we should visit the Marinossians. Perhaps they know something about this situation and how to remedy it. Anthea will certainly be able to mend your ankle. Either way, they’ll have more information than we do. The elves are some of the oldest creatures we know.”

  “I’m sorry, did you say elves?” Annika repeated.

  “Ooh, I can’t wait for you to meet them!” Runa squealed with glee. “They’re such a fun family! Especially Talvi. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

  “I suppose an entire month is a long time to you,” Hilda said sarcastically. Then she and Runa grinned and giggled mischievously, looking at Annika again. Her eyes narrowed a little, wondering what the two weren’t telling her.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked suspiciously.

  “It’s silly…it’s nothing. But he’ll probably make you wish you had never laid eyes on him!” Runa sang in a playful voice.

  “Who will?” asked Annika. “A little elf named Talvi?”

  Hearing this, Runa burst out laughing, rolling on her back and shaking with rounds of giggles. Hilda turned around quickly so that Annika couldn’t see her trying not to laugh as she put away the mortar and pestle. Sariel just rolled her eyes and began packing a rucksack with vegetables.

  “What could be so bad about him, and why’s it so funny?” Annika’s curiosity was peaked, as well as her suspected mental trip. She decided to stop fighting it and just let it play out. “Well? What kind of elf is he? Does he bake cookies and live in a tree? Or does he wear curly-toed shoes and make toys?” she pried, squeezing excess water from her hair. Her questions only seemed to make Runa laugh harder. “Are you going to tell me or not?

  Runa sat up and wiped the tears of laughter away from her big brown eyes. “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said, and rose to join her sister who was making a vegetable stew. “Now we really need a good meal and a good night’s rest for tomorrow. When Sariel said we were leaving first thing in the morning, she meant it.”

  “I’ll go anywhere I need to,” Annika said, too exasperated to argue with them about the existence of elves and wood nymphs. “I just need to get home. I know my uncle is worried sick. He’s going to be so upset when I don’t come home a second night in a row.”

  Upon the sight of food, Annika’s stomach growled. The samodivi served the hearty vegetable stew with bread and honey for their supper. It tasted better than anything Annika could think of, except maybe banitza. After dinner the ladies sang a few songs in their enchanting, siren-like voices that echoed against the walls around them. Many of the songs were in languages that she’d never heard before, and after their lullabies had ceased, they retired to the soft blankets on the floor of the cave. Soon the only noise was the occasional crackle of the fire. Annika was thoughtful for a few moments, thinking about all she had learned in the past few hours. She was possibly related to these reality-challenged women, there was a gateway to a hellish realm on the other side of the waterfall where there should have been an open meadow, and she wasn’t calling a doctor or going home anytime soon because they didn’t have outrageous things like phones. Instead she was going to ride a deer through the forest to meet up with a little elf who sounded like a huge pain in the ass. The whole thing sounded ridiculous, but Annika knew she was exhausted. Plus, there had to have been something
psychotropic floating around in that water she’d gulped earlier that day. This particular high wasn’t like anything else she’d ever experimented with in the past, but maybe they did things different in the backwoods of Bulgaria.

  What seemed like only moments later, Annika heard a strange, grinding metallic noise. Shinnng, shinnng. She opened one eye. It was barely light enough to see anything, but there was Sariel, sitting only inches away from the falling water. Shinnng, shinnng. She was sharpening her sword with a stone, running it over each side of the blade and then wetting it in the cascade. Runa was already up and about, packing things into small bags. The weapons which had hung on the wall the previous day had been taken down, and Hilda was taking a tea kettle off the fire. Annika sat up, trying to collect her thoughts. Clearly she was still under the influence of something, but her mind was as crystal clear as that water she’d tasted. She couldn’t imagine what Vince was thinking, wondering what happened to his only niece. It upset her greatly to know she was unable to reach him, and at least reassure him that she was safe.

  “Did you get enough rest?” Sariel asked without looking up from her sword.

  “Yeah, I think so. I had really weird dreams, though. Like, stranger than usual.” Annika clutched her blanket tighter around her to keep out the chilly morning air, then hobbled over to where Sariel was working. Maybe she was barking up the wrong tree, but she felt determined to befriend her one way or another. At worst, Sariel would find her annoying. At best, she might be more likely to help her.

  “Where did you get your sword?” Out of the corner of her eye, Annika saw Runa and Hilda’s heads jerk up at the question, but they said nothing. Sariel abruptly set the stone down, tossed her dark mane, and held out her sword for observation. Annika knelt down close to inspect the craftsmanship. The blade was etched with ancient writing and the hilt was designed to curl around Sariel’s dainty hand. Anything but crude, it was a magnificent work of art.

  “The father of my children gave it to me,” she said in a voice that did not encourage questions or elaboration, and quickly resumed her task of sharpening. Annika thought for sure that by now, the blade could slice a gnat in half.

  “Are you skilled with a weapon, Annika?” Runa piped up.

  “I’ve used a bow and arrow before at summer camp. I guess I was pretty good at hitting my target,” Annika said with a shrug. “But that was years ago. I’ve done kickboxing on and off for the past two years, though.”

  “What weapon do you use in that?” the blonde asked naïvely. Annika laughed quietly.

  “I guess my best weapon is my foot, which is useless now,” she replied. Runa looked confused.

  “I’ll show you what I mean when it gets better,” Annika said. “I don’t know how I’m going to walk anywhere on it, though.”

  “Oh we’re not walking. We’re riding, remember?” Hilda laughed. “If you expect a ride from the Srebra Gora deer, there’s a song you’ll have to learn. Now hurry and dress.”

  Annika wasn’t too sure about riding on a wild deer, let alone one that required a lullaby. She’d only been on a pony ride once as a girl, and the experience hadn’t ended on a good note. After a light breakfast of tea, bread, and honey, Hilda opened Annika’s bandages and reapplied more of the cooling paste. Her ankle was still swollen, but it had gone down enough for Annika to at least put her shoes on. The three gathered their cloaks and stood for a moment, looking at each other and then at Annika.

  “You may as well use Magda’s cloak,” Sariel said dryly. “She would’ve wanted you to wear it.” She opened a large trunk and dug about for just a moment, retrieving a heap of dark fabric which she brought over to Annika.

  “It’s so heavy!” Annika exclaimed as she took it in her arms. It was a magnificent hooded garment made of a soft woolen material and lined in fur. The back of it was embroidered in golden threads with ancient writing.

  “What does this say?” she asked.

  “They’re different stories about our ancestors,” replied Hilda. “These cloaks have been passed down along with the traditions behind them. They’re rich in our history.”

  “How old are you anyway?” Annika asked, quite obviously mystified at the legacy before her eyes. A legacy that possibly included her.

  “Younger than the forest, but older than the trees,” Runa and Hilda both chimed. Annika gave what felt like her millionth skeptical nod, content that she’d received a satisfactory enough answer for the time being.

  “So is the legend really true that sometimes the samodivi will leave their life here and go become a man’s wife?”

  “Yes,” Hilda breathed softly. “When we marry men and become part of the human world, we become mortal. We’ll have children, grow old, and die. We can come back, but that’s more easily said than done.”

  “If that’s true, I don’t know why you’d ever get married,” Annika said.

  “I never want to get married!” Runa laughed, then spun in a graceful circle. “I want to dance with every handsome fellow I can until the end of time.”

  Annika smiled wide at this, finding it to be the most logical idea she’d heard since arriving in that cave.

  “I can’t see anything! Am I going to fall?” Annika called out ten minutes later. A small, soft hand clasped hers. It was Runa.

  “You’re alright. I apologize for assuming you’d know every stone and bend in the path. We’ve had a long time to navigate this cave. Just follow me close. We’re almost out.”

  They walked for what seemed an eternity. The only thing to stimulate the senses was the occasional explicative from Annika’s mouth as she stubbed her foot into a rock or walked into a wall every now and then. But Runa never let go of her hand, and thus she was able to move almost as swiftly as the others. Annika could feel a breeze that brought sunshine and flowers with it, and knew that they’d nearly reached the other end of the cave. It drove the mustiness away and filled her with the expectation of seeing green fields and waving trees. When she saw what lay on the other side, it was all worth it.

  A myriad of roses grew around in a small circle. Inside the thicket of trees and blooming flowers was a small meadow. Annika turned around in a complete circle and saw pink yellow, white and red sprays of color everywhere but up in the blue sky. Sariel and Hilda joined them, and began the song that they’d taught Annika earlier. Runa nodded with her head for Annika to join them. At first she sang timidly, but the words were not so many that she grew comfortable singing them again. The translation, as Hilda had explained it, begged their deer brothers to come out and play with them, and that they were the sisters, as all the animals in the forest were siblings. It was a lonely melody; haunting, but mesmerizing. And then a strange thing happened.

  A pale shadow zipped around the meadow. Twice it circled, and then came to a halt. It was a large silver stag nearly the size of a small horse. His eyes were black and twinkling, and the sun reflected off his antlers, sending shimmers of pale silver light to each of his points. He trotted over to the nymphs and stopped just out of Hilda’s reach. When she reached her arms to him he pranced backwards. Their dance had begun. She chased him in circles, in zig zags, but as soon as she had him he bolted one step ahead of her. Annika watched in amusement as two more silver stags just as handsome as the first stepped into the meadow. Runa let out a shriek and began chasing hers all around in figure eights. She ran back and forth, and it occurred to Annika how ridiculous this all seemed. The samodivi were all laughing and running in circles, and these deer just pranced in circles with them. They wanted to be caught, but they were making a game of it.

  “Annika, you better start running!” Runa cried, as she had already caught her ride and hopped onto her stag’s back. It didn’t look too difficult. Annika looked around and saw a fourth deer standing at the edge of the thicket, waiting for her to notice him. He puffed out his chest proudly and licked his black nose. If ever a deer was capable of appearing conceited, this one certainly did. He tilted his head to one side and flic
ked his ears, as if he knew what a fine creature he was. He took a step forward in a casual manner, waiting to see what Annika was going to do about him. She hobbled straight for him, and he walked around her in a wide circle. He seemed to know she was injured, and so he came closer to her, giving her the smallest hope of catching him. They trotted in circles for a very long time, and she was getting out of breath and more irritated by the second. It was a frustrating dance they were doing, causing her sore ankle to hurt even more.

  “You’re supposed to be having fun together! This is just a game! Don’t be angry that you haven’t won yet!” the nymphs shouted out to her. It was easy for them to say; they’d probably done this a million times. Annika was discouraged, though she couldn’t give up. Suddenly she had an idea. She remembered a trick she had once used to catch a neighbor’s dog when it had gotten loose. The dog had been part wolf, and too independent to come when called.

  Annika smiled to herself, then fell down in a heap and didn’t move.

  “Annika, are you hurt? Is it your leg?” the samodivi called out. Annika didn’t move a muscle, and sure enough, the deer eventually wandered over to see if his new admirer was injured. While he leaned his nose down to sniff her head, Annika slowly reached out her hand once again, and this time her fingers curled tight around the left antler. The animal was caught off guard, but he was caught nonetheless. Then he did something completely unforeseen. Rather than fight or struggle, he lay down and motioned for her to climb onto his back instead.

  “That was too easy! That wasn’t fair at all!” Runa pouted, but Hilda and Sariel just laughed.

  “No,” Hilda said, “it was fair. And very clever. I can’t believe I’ve never tried that before. Now come on, let’s ride!”