The Ever After

by Amanda Hocking

  Nobody said anything, and the sick feeling I had in my stomach only intensified.

  “Okay, then.” I sighed. “What about the ingredients? Can we stop them from getting them?”

  “The mugwort, cloudberries, corn cockle, and goose eggs are all fairly common in Áibmoráigi,” Sumi said. “It’s not an everyday thing, but they often have hvalnum lard and spring lamb stock in their pantry. And Jem just traded them a bushel of Induian pears in exchange for ‘helping’ Eliana.”

  “That was before we realized they were abusing and exploiting Ellie,” Jem muttered.

  “And they got all the sorgblomma from the Vittra,” Finn said dully.

  “The only thing they need is the albino woolly elk heart,” Sumi surmised.

  “How common are those?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I’ve never seen one.”

  “You said you had, though,” Finn said, looking to me.

  “Only in my dreams. Or visions or whatever they are.” Then I corrected myself. “At least I think they’re dreams or something.”

  “Doesn’t your friend Pan work with the woolly elk? Maybe he would know more,” Finn suggested.

  “I should talk to him.” I wished he were here, discussing this all with me. He always made me feel better, even when everything seemed impossible.

  “We mustn’t let them finish the recipe,” Jem said. His fingers were tented together and his eyes were downcast. “My grandfather told stories of the last time the bridge was open, when the wyrm got through. So many lives were lost. Cities fell and the world burned.”

  “We’ll do all we can to stop this, but what does that entail?” Finn asked carefully. “What can we do? I don’t even know how we can prevent them from obtaining the elk heart, other than not giving them one ourselves.”

  A moment passed before Sumi said, almost reluctantly, “The only way we can be sure that the Älvolk won’t follow through on the crusade they’re on is if we make them submit to our will. They only respond to force.” She exhaled roughly. “We must attack them.”

  “They trained Sumi to be a warrior,” Jem said, looking up at her. “She knows how they fight, and how they think.”

  “If you have any military, I’d be happy to tell them what I know,” Sumi said to Finn.

  “Thank you,” he replied. “I will probably take you up on that.”

  “I have to go back to Merellä,” I realized.

  “But you just got here,” Finn said.

  “And I’m needed here,” Sumi said.

  “You should stay,” I told her. “Maybe Sunniva and Tove can help Eliana with her memory, and she can spend more time with Hanna, while you two help Finn decide how best to handle the Älvolk.

  “But I need to go back to the Mimirin and get to the bottom of the vision I had,” I said. “I need to learn as much as I can about the albino elk, and I can help Elof and Dagny figure out a way to stop the Älvolk from crossing the bridge.”

  49

  Humanity

  I drove by myself for nearly two days, minus pit stops and the seven hours I slept in the Jeep at a rest stop in Montana. It was a long, boring trip, but I did notice that I’d gotten better around humans. It used to be that I tensed up every time I pulled into a gas station. But now it didn’t bother me. They were all so busy worrying about their own stuff, most of the time they never even noticed me, and if they did, they were mostly polite.

  Still, I was happy to be back in Merellä and relieved that the guard let me pass with my old acceptance letter. It was late on Saturday, and Pan should’ve just finished up his night shift as a peurojen. As tired as I was, seeing Pan sounded better than sprawling out in my bed.

  His apartment was on Market Street, and all the shops on the row were closed, so I parked right out front. The entrance was around back, and I rang the doorbell and waited in the dimly lit alley.

  I heard footsteps pounding on the steps, and then he opened the door wearing an Ottawa Senators hockey T-shirt. His hair was disheveled, like he’d been sleeping, but his eyes were bright and his breathless smile seemed genuine.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I just stopped by.”

  “Are you kidding me?” His crooked smile deepened, and he stepped closer to me. He cradled my face in his hands, then he leaned in and kissed me.

  “I missed you too.”

  “I did miss you,” he said, then stepped back so I could enter his apartment. “Come on in. I know you had a long trip.”

  I’d walked Pan to his door before, but I had never actually been inside.

  There was a small entryway right inside the door, and then a set of stairs leading to his second-story flat. Outside, it smelled strongly of smoked salmon, which attracted more than a few stray cats, but inside, Pan had strategically placed infusers around so it smelled nicely of a rainy meadow.

  His place was smaller than mine and Dagny’s. It was all one room, other than the tiny bathroom in the corner. He had a queen-sized bed, a desk, and a small kitchenette with a hot plate and small fridge. The roof was pitched, so he didn’t even have full head space at the edge of the apartment on the north and south walls, and he used that space for storage—an oversized dresser, a squat bookcase, and a crate of records and battered paperbacks.

  His style seemed more functional than intentional, with most of the furniture pieces looking like well-maintained thrift store finds. The bed was made with a slate gray blanket, and there were framed pictures on his dresser—him as a scrawny tween and a beautiful older woman hugging him, presumably his mother. The only art on the walls were band posters.

  “Do you want anything to eat or drink?” He moved toward the kitchenette portion of the room and motioned for me to sit down on the short futon near the end of his bed. Brueger, the dog, was sprawled out on the rug, gnawing on a thick bone.

  My stomach growled. Eating on the road was always challenging. “I would, actually, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “I never keep my place super stocked, but I do have some plumberry wine and honey butter that’s great on wheat bread,” Pan said, and he was already pulling the wine out of the fridge.

  I settled back into the futon and exhaled deeply. Two days ago, Sunniva’s aural healing had taken a lot out of me, and the next morning I hit the road. I was exhausted through and through, and this was the first time I’d truly been able to relax in days.

  “That sounds amazing, thank you,” I said gratefully.

  Brueger finally set aside his bone and came over to greet me, his tail wagging happily. He was a big, beautiful puppy—a dog really. A sturdy Belgian Malinois with a coat of dark fawn and black, and his left ear drooping instead of pointing straight up like a triangle the way the other one did.

  I scratched him between the ears and asked Pan, “How have things been here?”

  “Fine.” He leaned back against the counter, waiting for the bread to toast. “Nothing’s really changed since I talked to you this afternoon.”

  I’d called him from the road, and told him all about Jem and Johan and time dilation, and about my seemingly prophetic dream, and everything I remembered, and the conclusions I had come to with Finn, Jem, and Sumi.

  He, in turn, told me about the goings-on here in Merellä. Dagny and Elof had been incredibly busy, and they’d been taking hours of meetings with Mästare Amalie and sometimes the Korva, Ragnall. Pan didn’t really know what for, but between his two jobs and Dagny’s long hours, they hadn’t had a chance to talk much. I had only briefly talked to her on Thursday to let her know I’d be home, and I’d just barely caught her between meetings.

  “I still have to interrogate Dagny when I get home,” I said.

  “I am interested in finding out what’s going on with her and Elof,” he agreed, and his eyes rested warmly on me. “How are you doing?”

  “Right now I’m really tired and really glad to be here.”

  The toast popped up, and he slathered it with honey butter. He brought it over to me, along with t
wo coffee mugs filled with plumberry wine. He handed me the mug with the color-changing light sabers, and for himself, he kept the one with the peurojen symbol—a heart with antlers.

  “Thank you.” I gulped down the wine greedily. “This is very tasty wine. The mug is nice too.”

  “Are you a big Star Wars fan?” he asked with a smirk.

  I nodded. “Not like a fanatic, but I like the movies. At least the ones I’ve seen.”

  “It’s so weird to me that you know what Star Wars is when you’re so sheltered.”

  “I have to agree,” I admitted between bites of toast. “But I know some things, especially those that are too ubiquitous to hide from.”

  “What else do you know that would surprise me?”

  I laughed. “I don’t know? You tell me.”

  “Well, what about Bastille?” Pan motioned to the band poster on the wall.

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “Oh, they’re the best. You’ll love ’em.” He got up and rummaged around his records before putting one on, and a mellow song with beautiful vocals began. “I saw them years ago back in Canada.” He came back and sat down beside me. “It was so great. Have you ever been to a concert?”

  “I mean, I’ve seen bands and orchestras, but all of them were made entirely of trolls in troll kingdoms, so I don’t know if that counts.”

  “I’ve seen troll orchestras, and no, they do not count,” he said, and I laughed again.

  “Oh, come on, we’ve got some really talented musicians.”

  “We do,” he agreed readily. “But the whole experience is different at a rock show. You’ll see when I take you.”

  With my toast finished, I took another long drink of my wine, enjoying the warmth it left in my belly. Then I leaned back on the couch and moved my legs up, lying them across his lap. He smiled at me, and cautiously, he rested his hand on my thigh, barely below my shorts.

  “What other things have I been missing out on?” I asked. “From the human world. Rock shows? What else?”

  “Oh, that’s a good question.” He thought for a second. “Food, for sure. I know most trolls have tough stomachs, but there’re foods that are allergen friendly and very tasty cuisine. There’s this amazing vegan place in Portland that a lot of the Mimirin students check out on breaks, and they love it.”

  “Try more food? All right, I’m up for that.”

  “Oh, and beaches. Like, warm sunny beaches with crystal-clear water,” he said. “All sorts of animals, like elephants and pandas.”

  “I see nature documentaries,” I reminded him.

  “I guess I don’t know then.” He ran a hand through his messy curls. “The truth is that I haven’t seen that much of the world either. But I know there are plenty of amazing places to explore.”

  “I used to be so anxious being out in the human world, but they’re not that different than anyone else. Plus, I’ve seen some really beautiful things.” I thought of the wolf pack I saw with Eliana, and a beautiful veil waterfall. “I’d love to see more of it.”

  He grinned crookedly. “We’ll start with a vegan place and a rock show.”

  “It’s a date then,” I said. “When stuff is straightened out, and we have time.” I yawned. “Sorry. I should be getting home.”

  “Or…” Pan paused. “You could spend the night here.” Then quickly, “We don’t have to do anything. I can even sleep on the futon.”

  I leaned over and kissed him. “We’ve spent enough time apart lately.”

  50

  Slumber

  He lent me a shirt—an oversized Guns N’ Roses tee—and I went into the washroom to change. When I came out, nervously pulling the hem of the shirt farther down my thighs, Pan had turned off the overhead lights, so the apartment was dimly lit by a bedside lamp. He was on the other side, shirtless, bent over and petting his dog.

  “I was just letting Brueger know that he has to sleep on the floor tonight,” he said.

  “I didn’t mean to kick him out of bed. Now I feel bad.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about him. He doesn’t mind.” He straightened up and smiled over at me. “That shirt suits you.”

  “Thanks.” I blushed and climbed into his bed so I could hide under the covers.

  Pan got into the bed and clicked off the light. He slid over to me, but not quite close enough to touch. “Do you need me to set an alarm or anything?”

  “Wait, what day is tomorrow? Thursday?”

  He laughed, enough of a rumble that it shook the bed. “Sunday.”

  “Ugh.” I groaned. “I think I got jet-lagged from all the driving I’ve done this week. Is that a thing that can happen?”

  Pan laughed again. “I honestly have no idea.”

  “Do you have to get up by a certain time tomorrow?” I asked.

  “At four-thirty A.M.,” he said, and I gasped.

  “That’s so early! And I’ve been keeping you up so late!”

  “I’m used to it.”

  My eyes had adjusted to the dark, and I could see his profile as he stared up at the pitched ceiling. I was lying on my side, studying his handsome features. His strong jaw and full lips. His long eyelashes lay on his cheeks, and one of his hands rested on his stomach.

  “What?” He looked over, apparently aware that I was watching him.

  “I was just thinking about how far away you are.”

  He moved one arm up to the pillow and tilted toward me, opening his arms, and I slid across the bed and into them. I pressed my body against him, and as his strong arms enveloped me, I kissed him.

  A heat in my belly simmered, the way it did every time we touched, but an oppressive weariness was barreling down on me. Pan noticed right away and he stopped kissing me.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked as he brushed a lock of hair out of my face.

  “I’m just really tired,” I said with a yawn.

  “Let’s just get some sleep then.”

  He settled back into the bed, one arm still around me, and I rested my head on his chest. The rhythmic thump of his heart slowly lulled me to sleep.

  With his arm around me like that, firm, warm, safe, enveloping, I wondered, is this what it feels like to be loved, really and truly, all the way through? Because that’s how I felt in his arms.

  I woke up to the bed moving, with the sunlight lighting up an unfamiliar space. I sat up with a start, and Pan was standing beside the bed, clad only in a pair of jeans.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Seven.”

  “You overslept!”

  He laughed. “No, I made it to work on time, and I just got back from my shift. I thought I’d crawl back in bed, and I was hoping not to wake you.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said. “But I should probably get up and go to the apartment. Dagny will start to worry if I’m not back soon. And I need to get my next move sorted out.”

  Pan had been in the process of undoing his jeans, but he zipped them back up before sitting on the edge of the bed. “What exactly is your next move?”

  “I was actually hoping you might be able to help me with that.” I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them to me.

  Brueger jumped up on the bed, lying between me and Pan, and Pan absently scratched him as he gave me a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

  “Remember, weeks ago, when you visited me in the lysa?” I asked.

  He smiled in a sly way, his skin slightly darkening, and I knew he was thinking of the rather intense kiss we’d shared within the confines of the psychic dream. “Of course.”

  “How did you do it?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  “That dream I had before, with the city collapsing in green fire, I think that might have really been a lysa. It was so real, and I remember it the way I remember a lysa, not all hazy the way dreams usually are.”

  “But who would be doing the lysa? It takes two,” he said.

  “I don’t know exactly.” I licked my lips. “I
think it’s the woman in the dream. The one in the dress made of flowers and the shawl of feathers. She kept telling me that I had to do something, but I don’t know what I need to do.”

  “So you wanna do a lysa with her so you can ask what’s going on?” he surmised.

  “Exactly.”

  “But you don’t know who that woman is?” he asked.

  “Unfortunately, no, I don’t.”

  He exhaled and stared off, thinking. “I am no expert on lysas, and I don’t know if what you’re suggesting is possible. But if it is, Dagny would be the one to know how to do it.”

  Forty minutes later, when I was back in my apartment and had finished explaining everything to Dagny, she sat silently on the couch, taking it all in.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “I think I can do that with you.”

  “Really?” Pan asked in surprise. He’d come back with me to find out what she would say.

  “Yeah.” Dagny nodded. “But I’ll need help from both of you.”

  51

  Lysa

  Clouds covered the sky, and the wind coming off the ocean had a bite to it, especially up here on the widow’s walk at the top of the Mimirin institution. The narrow pathway ran along the length of the highest point of the roof, and it was maybe five feet across, with wrought-iron railings running along either side before the roof sloped sharply downward. Up here, we had a stunning view of the city of Merellä to the east and the Pacific Ocean to the west.

  Thirteen towers protruded around the edges of the building, and atop each one was a glass atrium containing a solitary Ögonen. They stood tall and motionless, staring emptily at the far-off horizons.

  I warily eyed the Ögonen, and their semi-opaque skin looked murky in the gray light. Dagny knelt down, writing on the tiles with the ashy end of burnt sage, and Pan took out the things we’d gathered for the lysa, all brought in the large wicker purse Dagny had.

  I suddenly remembered the time a few years ago when Finn and Mia had taken me and the kids on a picnic up high in the bluffs. It had been quite the hike, and the air was cold and windy. Finn had started a fire and we’d roasted marshmallows, all crowded around together. To entertain the kids, I had read from Liam’s favorite book, Dragons of Every Size.