by Cate Martin
"I know. I have a place," he said. Then I was back on my feet, but his hand had my wrist in an iron grip as he dragged me after him. I was worn out from running, but he was still fresh, and it was a struggle to keep up with him and not face-plant into the snow and be dragged behind him.
Then he was pulling me through a thicket of branches that poked and scraped and caught at my hood and my scarf and my parka. Now I was keeping my eyes closed to avoid losing one to a sharper branch.
Then suddenly we were still. I could still hear the Wild Hunt, but the sound of the hooves was muffled.
I opened my eyes to see where we were. I couldn't see more than a glimpse. Thorbjorn had me tucked close against his side with his arms around me like a shield and my face pressed tight to his chest. But I could see we were in a sort of tent formed out of the space under the branches of a tall thicket. The branches were all covered with a thick layer of snow, so our tent was more like a soft-sided igloo.
"Thorbjorn," I started to say, but he shushed me and squeezed me tighter. I still hadn't caught my breath from the running, but I tried to quiet it as much as I could.
The Wild Hunt was galloping all around us, some riders closer and some further away, but one of the hounds was just outside of our sparse shelter. I could hear it snuffling over the snow. It bumped into the thicket and sent a shower of snowflakes down over us.
But it didn't come inside.
Finally, it gave one last discouraged wuff of breath, and then it was gone.
"They're moving on," Thorbjorn whispered, and his arms around me loosened.
"They'll be back," I said.
"We'll have to run again," he said. "But let's wait and listen. Perhaps they will ride further away, give us a better opportunity to get away. At the very least, you need a minute to recover. Here," he added, pressing something into my mittened hand.
I sat up and looked at it, but it was impossible to make out any details in the darkness of our igloo.
"It'll give you some energy. Go ahead and eat it," he said, then put something into his own mouth.
I put it on my tongue and recognized the rich flavor right away. It was exactly the same as the piece of more-than-chocolate that Frór had given me before. I held it in my mouth for as long as I could before swallowing it down.
"I've had this before," I said.
"Have you?" he asked, surprised.
"Yes. Frór gave it to me," I said. Even in the gray darkness I could see his face register delighted surprise that quickly tempered to a more cautious look.
"You met Frór? Just today?"
"Once before, actually, but not properly until today. Mjolner brought me to him," I said.
"But neither of them are with you now?" he asked.
"No, they had other things to do first. Didn't they reach the lodge at all?"
"No more than you did," he said. But he couldn't quite work up an appropriately accusatory tone. "Ingrid, when you met Frór..." But he trailed off, unable to find the words.
"I remembered everything," I said to him. "I remember all of our adventures. I remember sneaking off to follow Frór when he went to the north. I remember the fight with the trolls he had while the two of us were hiding in that little cave. And I remember my grandmother finding us there and how angry she was with Frór for putting us in danger."
"We put ourselves in danger," Thorbjorn said.
"I know," I said. "It seemed like such a good idea at the time."
I wondered how things might have been different, if we had pursued some other, safer sort of adventure that summer. Would I have been allowed to keep visiting Villmark? Would all of my summers have been spent there, having more adventures with Thorbjorn?
Could I have grown up knowing exactly who I was, and what I was called to do?
But then there was another side too. If we hadn't followed Frór into the north, if my grandmother had never wiped all of Villmark from my memory, would I have ever bothered with art at all?
No, I was sure, I would've been a completely different person.
"Ingrid, I'm so happy you finally remember everything. I wish we could reminisce for hours, but-"
"Yeah, this isn't the time," I said. "Your brothers?"
"They are also out in the forest, searching for you," he said.
"I was afraid of that. And no one came to the lodge before sundown? My grandmother, Frór, nobody?"
"Not even Loke," he said.
"Something was keeping me away from the lodge," I said. "I could see it in the distance, but I couldn't get any closer to it. Not even with magic."
"I don't like the sound of that," he said. "Especially not if the same thing succeeded in keeping your grandmother away."
"Maybe there's an upside," I said. "Maybe the Wild Hunt will get lost too."
"How is that an upside?"
"If anyone back at the lodge had gone outside, I'm sure they would've zeroed in on them. If they are wandering still, no one has gone out."
"Maybe," he said. "But it's not very late yet. When the others went outside, it was more than an hour later than it is now."
"If this lost-in-the-forest spell holds, they'll never get close enough to the lodge for that to matter," I said.
"Do you think there's yet another person of incredible magical power casting this new spell?" he asked. "Because if it's the same person who's been luring people out of the lodge and locking the doors behind them, I don't see them also keeping the Wild Hunt running in circles."
"No, you're right," I agreed. "Maybe this has been happening every night. The Wild Hunt circles around without finding anything until the person coming out of the lodge draws them that way like a beacon."
"But what can we do?" Thorbjorn asked. "You said you couldn't get to the lodge before, even with magic. Is that still true?"
"I'm afraid so," I said, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my head on my knees. I wanted nothing more than to curl up under the thicket and sleep until dawn. Or, better yet, noon.
But then a thought struck me, and I looked up to grin at Thorbjorn. "It doesn't matter. We don't have to get to the lodge to keep everyone there safe."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"It's what you said, the people who go outside lure the Wild Hunt to them like a beacon," I said.
"You want to lure them yourself?" he asked. "But they didn't take you just now."
"No, but that's because I was trying to hide from them. I wasn't looking at them," I said.
"I am not letting you go out there and challenge the Wild Hunt face to face," he said.
"No, I don't need to see them," I said, although a part of my heart longed to do just that. I had drawn them well enough from the memory the places they had been retained of them, but imagine what I could do after I'd seen them with my own eyes? Had soaked up every detail I could discern by moonlight?
I was just picturing the final drawing, trying to imagine just what those details would be. I wanted a better look at their faces, just to start.
But Thorbjorn interrupted my thought processes. "What's your plan?" he demanded.
"Simple," I said. "I'll be the brighter beacon. I'll make sure they follow me."
"You want to lure them away from the lodge?" he asked, intrigued.
"Not just away from the lodge," I said. "Towards that hamlet hidden in the forest."
"What hamlet?" he asked.
"The one where Frór lives," I said. "And also where our murderer is hiding, somewhere."
"You can do that?" he asked.
"I’m sure I can," I said.
"How?"
"Everything I’m doing to contain my magical glow from the awareness of others? I’m going to stop doing that. More, I’m going to reverse the process. I’m sure I can do it. Then I’ll glow like nothing they’ve ever seen."
Thorbjorn didn’t look like he liked my idea much. But he didn’t object. "Do you want to wait for them to get closer?" he asked.
"No, better now," I said. "I
want them far from the lodge before the usual hour."
"Then let's go," he said.
We crawled out from under the thicket. The snow all around us had been churned up by horses' hooves and the paw prints of large dogs, but there was no sign of the bird-wing markings. At least, not yet.
Then I dropped all my mental shields. I could see myself glowing, even brighter than the beacon I had created to lead me to the lodge. I was confident I could be seen through the trees for miles by those with the eyes to see magic.
Then we started running. I led the way back towards the hamlet. I couldn't see my own trail through the snow since the Wild Hunt had obliterated all signs of any passage but their own. But I knew we were headed the right way.
Whatever spell had had me running in circles only prevented me from getting to the lodge. The way to the hamlet was unimpeded.
Which was good, since we'd only been running for a minute or two before we could hear the sounds of the Wild Hunt drawing nearer behind us.
I looked over at Thorbjorn and we shared a crazy grin at the success of our plan, but neither of us had enough air to speak on top of the running.
The way back was much shorter than I remembered, or I had never made it even as close to the lodge as I thought I had. Whichever was the case, I realized we were nearly to the rock where Mjolner and I had said farewell.
But the Wild Hunt was all but on top of us. I could feel the hot breath of that hound close behind me and didn't even dare look over at Thorbjorn beside me, lest I accidentally see something close on his heels as well.
Then the thing I had been fearing most happened. The breath of that hound stopped puffing against my heels, but only because it was pulling its weight back to leap.
Its mighty paws landed on the backs of my shoulders, and I was going down. My body hit the snow hard enough to knock the wind out of me.
The hound backed away, surely trained to do so. It’s not for the hounds to make the kill, after all. That's for the hunters.
I tried to get up, but I had nothing left in me. I couldn't even draw in a proper breath.
"Ingrid," Thorbjorn said. I realized he too had been knocked to the ground. He sounded as weary and sore as I felt, but the hand that closed over mine was strong.
We would have to get up and keep running. I could hear the hooves pounding all around us. There was a huntsman towering over us, but I didn't dare look up.
Then the sky was filled with blinding light, far brighter than my own most powerful fireball spell. The horse screamed, then bolted away.
And my grandmother was saying, "are you two going to get up or are you planning on lying there all night?"
27
Even though I knew my grandmother was there and I knew she had driven the Wild Hunt away, I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes.
I didn't let go of Thorbjorn's hand either.
"Bring them inside," I heard Frór saying. Hands lifted me to my feet, but Thorbjorn tucked me close to his side protectively. I kept my eyes closed and let him guide me until we were safely indoors.
"I should have been told far, far sooner," my grandmother was grousing from somewhere behind me.
"I told you the minute I knew myself," Frór told her.
"Not the very minute," she snapped back.
"Please, no fighting amongst ourselves," I said, still with my eyes closed.
The two of them fell quiet. Thorbjorn guided me up a short flight of stairs and then through a doorway. Only when I heard that door close behind us did I dare to open my eyes.
I looked up at Thorbjorn. His eyes were tightly closed, but as if he felt me gazing up at him he blinked them open then looked me over as if checking me for injuries.
Past him, I saw my grandmother and Frór also in the entryway with us, shaking snow from their clothes and deliberately not looking at each other.
There was a step up from where we were standing to the hall that ran between the living room and the kitchen. Haraldr and Loke were both standing there, watching us. Haraldr's face was lit up with relief at the sight of us. He had one hand clutching at the front of his sweater as if his heart had ached, waiting for us all to return.
But Loke, as usual, was just grinning at me. Then I realized I was still pressed up against Thorbjorn's side. That was the source of his amusement. But for the life of me, I couldn't make myself to step away from Thorbjorn. I needed the support.
"I missed the meeting," he said with an exaggerated pout.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad you weren't there," I said. "It was a private thing."
"What are we talking about?" Thorbjorn asked. But before I could answer, my grandmother seized my arm in an iron grip and dragged my attention to herself.
"You look terrible," she said with a frown, but then she pulled me into a tight hug. Frór and Thorbjorn behind me both cleared their throats uncomfortably, then brushed past us to get to the hall. I suspected Haraldr and Loke had already fled.
Did they think we were about to explode with sentimental emotions or something?
Well, I was sniffling back some tears, but it had been a very exhausting day. Or rather, a chain of exhausting days.
For her part, my grandmother was hugging me so tight it was nearly impossible to breathe.
"I should've told you sooner what was going on," I said, my voice muffled against her shoulder. "Don't blame Frór."
"Don't blame Frór?" she repeated and pushed me back at arm's length to look into my eyes. "So you remember."
"Finally," I said. "I have loads to say to you about that, but this isn't the time."
"No," she agreed. "Come. Let's join the others in the kitchen."
It was a true sign of how dire things were that everyone was tromping through Frór's house with their boots on. As much as we'd all stamped the snow off our feet at the door, there were still grimy puddles of melting snow all over his floorboards.
My grandmother all but pushed me down into one of the chairs at the table, and Frór set a steaming mug of tea in front of me. Loke was buttering slices of black bread and setting them one by one on a plate in front of me. The tea was too hot to dare a sip from yet, but I greedily lunged for that bread.
"How long will your spell last?" I asked my grandmother.
"Without my concentration, it's gone already. But we're quite safe here," she told me.
"I'm worried about the others back at the lodge," I said. "Why didn't you go there like you were supposed to?"
"We tried," Frór said. "None of my forest craft or your mormor's magic was enough to overcome whatever enchantment is at work in those woods. We kept finding ourselves back in Villmark, over and over again."
"Not even I could get there," Loke said, handing me another slice of buttered bread.
"You never got near the lodge?" I asked.
"Nowhere near it," my grandmother said, settling herself into the chair next to me. She looked nearly as worn out as I felt. She must have been pushing herself very hard. "Do you know how close you got?"
"I did a spell to guide me there. I could see it in the distance, but the minute I lost eye contact with it, it would suddenly get so much further away," I said.
"Then you got closer than we did," Frór said.
"You have a new wand?" my grandmother asked.
"Yes," I said, taking it out and setting on the table. She looked at it without touching it.
"Lovely workmanship," she said. "I can feel the power coming out of it already. And you've only had it a day?"
"I guess," I said, the hours running together in my mind. "But I've been using it a lot since I got it."
"Yes, I can see that," she said. Haraldr moved to stand over her shoulder and lean in to look at it himself.
"Very fine," he said with a nod. "Very fine indeed."
"It's not been helpful yet in finding who's behind all this," I said with a sigh. "Just that it's coming from this hamlet. I'm guessing you didn't find anything when you went door to door?" I a
sked Frór.
He shook his head. "No one was acting suspiciously, and I saw nothing that would indicate anyone had access to magic."
"Signi's house guest?" I asked.
"That's a long story," Frór said with a sigh. "It's too long to go into, but trust me, that boy is not our problem."
"I found him in the woods a few days ago," my grandmother said after giving Frór a hard look. Like asking anyone to trust him was a huge deal. "He's been missing from Villmark for eleven years, more than half of his young life. He seems to have been moving between our world and the larger one around us, I think at random. It's been very traumatic, which is why Signi is keeping him apart from other people. But Frór is right, that boy is not the cause of this problem."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "I feel like whatever is doing this is very powerful magic, nothing like anything I've seen in Villmark. If he's been wandering deeper into the other worlds from here, who knows what he found?"
"I know," my grandmother assured me, squeezing my hand.
"All right. But we still have to do something," I said. "Everyone back at the lodge is in real danger. It might be happening even now." I looked around the kitchen until I found Thorbjorn standing in the shadows on the far side of the fire.
"It's about that time," he said. "And as fast as that Wild Hunt can move, they could easily be there by now."
"Your brothers," I said, remembering that they too had gone outside to look for me.
"They'll be fine," he assured me.
"But Frór said-" I started to say.
"Oh, you listen to him too much," my grandmother said testily.
"They will be targets," Frór said firmly. "But they have been taught by the best. They will be on their guard."
"They'll be fine," Thorbjorn said again. But I wasn't sure he was as confident as he was trying to sound. In fact, I had the impression that, not being able to go out and help them, he was trying to convince himself that they didn't need him.
"Let me think," my grandmother said, pressing a hand over her eyes. "If the spells are coming from here, there must be a way to detect them."
"You didn't manage it before," Frór said. "It certainly looked like you tried everything."
