The Lost City

by Amanda Hocking

  43

  Advice

  I sat on the roof peak above my apartment, under the twinkling stars, anxiously watching my glowing phone screen. Dagny had a cell phone amplifier and she had told me that if I wanted to use it, the roof was the best place to get a signal, so that’s why I was up here, waiting for my phone call to go through.

  The landline in the house would’ve been much easier to use, obviously, but it lacked the privacy. Pan had been right—I’d worked late into the evening in the archives to make up for the time I missed. By the time I had gotten home, I’d expected everyone to be all settled in for the night, but it was only Hanna and Eliana at the apartment. Hanna explained that Dagny was still down at the archery range.

  With the Midsommar festival coming up, Dagny was trying to get in as much practice beforehand as she could. They had an archery competition that offered presitigous awards, and she really wanted to win one.

  Hanna and Eliana had made a fort out of couch cushions and blankets, and they’d holed up together. When I snuck out to the roof, Eliana was braiding Hanna’s hair while Hanna read excerpts from her old battered copy of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

  With Dagny in her bedroom, and my loft bedroom open to the whole apartment, the roof was the only place I could go to have a private phone call.

  “Hey, Ulla,” Finn answered, quelling my anxiety with just the sound of his voice—warm and crackling, like a fire on a cold day, so cozy and safe and familiar that it kept even the iciest winds at bay.

  When we’d first met, he had seemed rather rigid and aloof, and I didn’t know how I would survive under his roof for a week. But I soon learned that his tremendous sense of duty and responsibility came from his deep well of compassion.

  “How are you doing?” he asked. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” I wrapped one arm around my knees. “Hanna’s good. She’s having a great time, I think.”

  “I’m glad she’s doing well, but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be happier to hear that she was bored and miserable there. I was hoping it would be more of a punishment for her sneaking out with you,” he said, which was just as I expected from him. His approach to parenting was equal parts empathy, mentoring, and strict discipline.

  “Believe me, she’s had plenty of boredom here,” I assured him. “But she has the most uncanny ability to turn anything into a dramatic event.”

  He laughed softly. “That is definitely one of her talents. How is everything with you?”

  “I don’t know.” The polish on my toenails had begun to chip, and I picked absently at it as I struggled to articulate how I felt. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I know you really helped me get into the Mimirin, but . . . I’m starting to wonder if I made a mistake coming here.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “What if I never find my parents?” I asked, hating how plaintive and small my voice sounded. “What if I’m wasting my time and everyone else’s, not to mention resources they’re wasting on me? There’s this big-time docent looking into my genetics, and he could be spending his time helping Eliana or literally anyone else.”

  “Who’s Eliana?”

  “She’s the girl that’s staying with us,” I reminded him. Both Hanna and I had been keeping Finn and Mia apprised of the situation.

  “The runaway that Hanna brought in off the streets?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Ulla, do you want to find your parents?” he asked pointedly.

  “Yes, of course I do,” I replied instantly. “More than almost anything.”

  “Then it’s not a waste of time, and if anyone offers to help you or at the very least agrees to it, then you shouldn’t worry about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “If the docent is looking into your genetics, there’s a very good chance that he’s learning something from it too, which means that you’re helping him.”

  “I hadn’t really thought of it that way, I guess,” I admitted.

  “Is that why you called?”

  “Sorta.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “When is the soonest you can get here?”

  “Is Hanna becoming too much of a handful?” he asked immediately.

  “No, it’s not that at all. She’s great, honestly.”

  “It’s currently Wednesday, and I have a meeting in the morning that I can’t miss.” He paused, and I could practically hear him doing the math in his head. “The soonest I could safely get to Merellä would be late Friday. That’s only a day earlier than I had originally planned, and it would be tight, but I could do it if you need me to.”

  “No, no, it’s fine. Everything’s fine,” I insisted. “I was only wondering.”

  I’d been about to tell him about the break-in, but I knew that would only make him worry and needlessly rush to get here. I’d already come up with precautions, and I thought I could keep Hanna safe until Saturday.

  “Are you sure? You sound anxious,” Finn said.

  “I am a little,” I admitted.

  “Ulla, I’ve known you for over five years. You’ve lived with me and my family almost the entire time, and I’ve watched you care for my children and put your whole heart into everything that you do. But I’ve also seen you be too afraid to ask for help and struggle with feeling that you don’t really belong. No matter what happens or what you find in Merellä, you’ll always have a home with us.”

  A wave of homesickness washed over me, and I swallowed back the lump in my throat just enough that I could eke out, “Thanks, Finn.”

  “Don’t give up, Ulla. You want to do this, and you’re more than capable of it, so you should do it. Finish your internship and stay in Merellä. If you’re asking for my advice, that’s what I’m giving you.”

  Tears stung my eyes, and I wiped at them with the palm of my hand. “Thanks. I think I really needed to hear that.”

  “I’m here, anytime you need a pep talk. I’ll always be a phone call away.”

  44

  You Again

  It was already hot outside by the time I made it to work the next morning, but that didn’t stop the archives from being freezing cold. I spent most of the day working with a musty flannel blanket around my shoulders, hunched over the desk.

  The day dragged by slowly, and it was entirely unremarkable, unless you consider paper cuts and Calder’s persistent cough noteworthy. He did seem especially quiet today, saying no more than a dozen words to me, but we weren’t exactly the type of coworkers who gossiped over the water cooler.

  When the end of my shift finally came, I bolted out of the archives, shouting a quick good night over my shoulder, and Calder only grunted in response. Outside, the evening sunlight felt bright and hot, a rather dramatic change from my long day spent in the archive dungeons. I stopped, squinting into the sun and relishing the feel of it warming my cheeks, but someone immediately bumped into me and snapped at me to get going.

  They had a point, so I moved out of the way of the trolls pouring out of the Mimirin and went over to a nearby barrel of Linnea twinflowers on the side of the road. Once there, I pulled off my knit sweater, which left me in a tank top and jeggings.

  I had shoved the sweater into my bag and was working on pulling my tangles of hair up into a messy bun when a familiar voice called from behind, “It’s you again.”

  I turned around to see Sumi standing behind me, looking the same as she had when she’d helped Hanna and me find Eliana on the beach: tight leather pants paired with a loose top, and her beautiful black coils of hair plaited tight to the scalp on one side and flowing free on the other.

  “Oh, hi.” I put my hair up in a flash, suddenly feeling the need to have my hands free, in case . . . In case what, exactly? I didn’t know, but the way Sumi looked at me now—an amused smile on her seemingly ageless face but calculating dark eyes—I wanted to be ready for anything. “Sumi, right?”

  She nodded once, a fluid, precise movement. “Did you ever fi
nd your missing friend?”

  “Yeah, we did. And, um, thanks again for that. She was right where you said she’d be.”

  “Good. I was worried.” Then her tone shifted, her voice going low into a whisper, a secret, a warning. “The citadel can be a dangerous place.”

  “Everyone keeps telling me that.”

  “Oh?” She blinked at me, that amused smile still locked in place. “You sound skeptical.”

  I shrugged. “Well, nothing really bad has happened.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “About a week and a half.”

  “It’s still early, then.” Now the smile disappeared, twisting into something more like a grimace or a gash. “You’ve got plenty of time to discover all that goes bump in the night.”

  “You sound all menacing all of a sudden,” I said, punctuating the sentence with a nervous laugh.

  “Do I?” she said with such exaggerated surprise—widening eyes, mouth aghast, apologetic tone lilting toward song—I couldn’t help but believe that she’d meant to sound exactly as threatening as she had. “I’m merely trying to warn you to keep you safe. The magic here is quite powerful, and it can have a strange effect on things.”

  “Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” I agreed, just to move the conversation along, and then casually asked, “How long did you say you were here for, again?”

  “I’m not sure. Until my business is concluded. Why?”

  “Merellä seems like the kind of place where it’s good to have friends.” I smiled at her, but it felt forced and tight.

  She flashed a matching smile, equally as strained and fake as my own. “I think it’s always good to have friends, no matter where you are.”

  “That is true.”

  “I should let you get on with your day. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

  “Yeah, you too,” I said emptily as she turned and walked away.

  The wind came up, blowing a chill of salty air from the sea, just before she disappeared into the crowd. It blew her hair wildly, exposing the back of her neck, and the thick black lines of the tattoo on her light brown skin.

  It was a tattoo of an ouroboros: a serpentine dragon biting its own tail, so it formed a perfect circle, and this one had a very Norse runic design.

  I stared after her, and under the summer sun, my blood ran cold.

  When Eliana ran away from the Mimirin, she said she’d been chased by a shadow and a dragon. And Sumi had pointed us right to where Eliana was hiding—just beyond the city walls.

  I thought about going after her, grabbing Sumi by the arm and demanding to know what she knew about Eliana, but then I remembered. Eliana and Hanna had stayed home today, and they were at the apartment.

  Alone.

  45

  Fear

  I ran the rest of the way home, and I even jumped over an overturned cart. My legs burned, and I was drenched in sweat and gasping for breath by the time I raced up the stairs to the apartment, but I refused to slow.

  Not until I knew Hanna and Eliana were safe.

  I threw open the door, causing Hanna to let out a surprised scream. She’d been sitting on the couch with her legs folded under her, but she jumped to her feet when I came in.

  “Are you okay?” I asked between gulps of air. “Where’s Eliana?”

  “Right here.” Eliana stepped out of the bathroom, her long hair a rather somber shade of black today.

  “You’re both okay?” I put my hands on my hips, surveying the apartment, which looked just as it had when I left for work this morning. “Is Dagny home?”

  “No, Dagny’s still at work,” Eliana said.

  “What’s going on?” Hanna’s voice had taken on a panicked edge. “Did something happen?”

  “No,” I said, but that didn’t feel true to me, not exactly, so I amended, “I don’t know.” I looked over at Eliana. “You remember the other day when you saw the dragon?”

  “Yeah. Why?” Her face lit up, and bright green streaks momentarily flashed through her hair. “Did you see a dragon?”

  “I saw . . .” I stopped myself before telling her about Sumi. I wanted to hear what Eliana had to say before I filled her head with my own thoughts and fears. “What did you see? It wasn’t a big scaly monster, was it?”

  “I don’t know.” Her face scrunched up. “That day is such a blur to me.”

  I stepped closer to her, as if that would somehow jog her memory. “Do you remember what you saw? What made you think a dragon was following?”

  “I saw . . .” She closed her eyes. “It was before the beach, and I was running through the city, and the world was a kaleidoscope, and . . . and . . .” Eliana scowled as she opened her eyes. “I only know that I ran because I was afraid the dragon was at my heels.”

  “Ulla, what is going on?” Hanna demanded. “Did you see a dragon or something?”

  “Not exactly.” I sighed and tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s related.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hanna was nearly shouting now, out of fear and frustration.

  My earlier panic had subsided, now that I knew Hanna and Eliana were safe. Part of me worried that I’d overreacted to a coincidence, but that didn’t erase my very recent memory of how helpless and terrified I had been after talking to Sumi.

  “It was this tattoo of a dragon,” I explained lamely. “But with the break-in, and knowing you’re here alone, and everyone warning me about how dangerous it is here . . . I hate to say it, but I think that we may have to look into alternative housing for Eliana.”

  “No!” Hanna shrieked, like I had suggested murdering a puppy. “No! Why?”

  I held out my hands and in the most soothing tone I could manage I said, “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but Hanna, you’re under my care. I can’t be here with you all the time.”

  She snorted. “And getting rid of Eliana will make me more safe, so I’ll be totally alone?”

  “First, we’re not ‘getting rid’ of Eliana,” I corrected her. “The Mästare already told me that Elof can find her somewhere to stay, and I would never let her go someplace where she wouldn’t be safe or comfortable.”

  “You were already talking about it with the Mästare?” Hanna asked, disgusted.

  “No, the Mästare offered the idea, and I turned her down,” I said. “But the situation has changed. If someone is after her, she should be somewhere that’s safer where they can protect her.”

  Tears welled in Hanna’s eyes, but her expression was that of anger and defiance. “But what about me?”

  “Hanna, you’re going home on Saturday.” I stepped closer to her. “But Eliana will still be here. All alone. Don’t you think it would be better that you help her find someplace to stay and get her situated before you go?”

  She shook her head as a solitary tear slid down her cheek. “Will I still get to hang out with her while I’m here?”

  “Yeah, of course you can,” I told her.

  “Or I can just go back out on my own,” Eliana offered.

  “No, Eliana, nobody wants that,” I assured her. “You’re our friend, and we want you to be safe. I have to make Hanna my priority because she’s a child, and she’s under my care.”

  It was hard to say for sure how old Eliana was. Her naïveté and diminutive size made her seem younger, but her face was more that of a woman than that of a child, and some of the things she said made me think she might even be older than me.

  Hanna wiped roughly at her eyes. “No, she’s right, Eliana. This is what’s best for you, so this is what we’ll do.”

  “And I won’t have to stay if I don’t like it?” Eliana asked.

  “No, of course not,” I said. “You’re not being held prisoner. You’re still free to come and go as you wish.”

  She considered this for a moment, then nodded. “I’d like to see where I’m going to be staying before I agree to it. But I’m willing to look.”

 
46

  Neighbors

  Within the hour, the three of us were on the fourth floor, following Elof down a long corridor to the guest accommodations. As we walked, Hanna kept excitedly pointing out the various works of art that hung on the walls.

  “It’s so beautiful here, Eliana,” Hanna gushed. “I’m actually jealous that you get to stay in the Mimirin! It’s like living in Cinderella’s castle or something.”

  “Who is Cinderella?” Eliana asked.

  “Never mind,” Hanna said with a laugh.

  “And here we are—room 4113.” Elof stopped in front of the door and pulled out a key ring adorned with absurdly large keys.

  While we waited for him to unlock the door, I admired the painting hanging nearby. It was simple but beautiful and vibrant—blossoms falling from an apple tree onto a lake, the pale pink flowers floating in a reflection of the blue sky. There was arresting—but strangely familiar—beauty to the quick strokes that had been left in the oil paint.

  “Who painted this?” I asked Elof.

  The door lock clicked open, and he peered over at the painting. “That one there? I believe it was Claude Monet.”

  “It’s really lovely. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.” Which actually was saying something.

  Back in Iskyla, Mr. Tulin had been something of a failed artist. A few of his paintings hung around the inn, mostly landscapes and animals done in a broad impressionist style. He didn’t paint anymore by the time I met him, but he still had his stacks of art books from his youth when he’d been more aspirational. His favorite painter—who would eventually become my favorite as well—had been Monet.

  “No, I don’t know how you would have,” Elof said. “It’s been in the Vittra’s possession since right after it was painted.”

  “How did the Vittra get it?” I asked.

  “Oh, you know the Vittra,” he said with a wan smile. “We have a long history of using whatever means necessary to get our hands on all the shiniest baubles.”