West

by Edith Pattou

  “Are you all right?” I asked Estelle. She nodded, though she looked very pale. “Do you know where Winn is?”

  Estelle jumped up, almost falling back down at first, but she steadied herself. Her legs were shaking as she made her way down the hall toward a door that was standing open. I limped after her. Charles, who stopped only long enough to pull his sword out of the snake’s mouth, followed me.

  Hearing a shrill cry from Estelle, I hurried into the room.

  “He is gone!” Estelle said. “Winn is gone.”

  “Yes, he is gone,” Charles said from behind me. “She has him.”

  I whirled around. “Who has him?”

  “The pale queen,” he said. “She was carrying the bairn in her arms. And then she disappeared.”

  Neddy

  HARALD SOREN HAD AGREED to provide us with a ship, one of his best ships, in fact. He himself was unable to accompany us, feeling he must stay with his children, who had so recently lost their mother, but he said the crew would be made up of his best men.

  I was eager to set off, but both Mother and Sib insisted that I wait until I was stronger. Mother even went so far as to say that if I could not climb the stairs of our house without losing my breath, clearly I was not ready to set off on an arduous journey over the sea. I had to admit she was probably right.

  It seemed that all I did for the next few days was rest and eat. It was true that I had become unnaturally thin because of my illness. Sib and Mother made it their goal to fatten me up. Finally, after a week, I had begun to fill out and was able to climb the stairs at a fairly brisk pace without having to pause.

  The nearest port to Chamonix was Calais, a sea journey that would take five days.

  I knew nothing of mountain climbing, and the thought of scaling the Alpes was more than a little daunting, but if that was what it took to find my sister, I was willing to learn.

  Rose

  WE ARRIVED AT BEN’S HOUSE in Tacul more dead than alive.

  The journey back from Mont Blanc had been hard. I’m not sure how Charles, Estelle, and I managed it, but we did.

  Much of the palace had been in flames, the throne room in particular burning fiercely, but Charles somehow found a pathway through the smoke and falling debris, and we got to the door that led to the stairs I had climbed up.

  I almost tripped over one of the echecs pieces, which still lay scattered on the floor. On an impulse, I reached down and grabbed it. It was the knight I had last been holding. I thrust it into the pocket of my cloak, where it joined Queen Maraboo and the key Urda had given me.

  Descending the stairs had been easier than going up, though with my injured ankle and Estelle’s two wounds, especially the snakebite to her shoulder, our progress was still very slow.

  I worried about Estelle and the troll-snake poison, but the blow he’d struck her seemed more shallow than mine, and I prayed that less of the toxin had gotten into her blood. She was brave, though, and even had had the presence of mind to tell us where to find warm furs for us all to wear when we left the palace.

  Charles wound up carrying Estelle the last leg of the journey, and we were all exhausted by the time we reached the Glacier des Bois.

  Charles managed to kindle a little fire, and we ate the very last of the reblochon Ben had given us what seemed a long time ago.Estelle was too feverish and ill to have any appetite.

  We spoke little and in fact, since leaving the burning palace, had barely said anything to each other beyond what was necessary to survive the journey. As I chewed the reblochon, I was lost in thoughts of the Troll Queen, how angry she must be. The palace at the top of Mont Blanc was the second of her domiciles I had had a hand in destroying. And Jaaloki, to whom she had seemed very attached, was now dead.

  “What are you thinking?” asked Charles.

  “About her, about the pale queen,” I said.

  “Where do you think she has taken my son?” he asked.

  I felt a stab of pain at the word my. Not our. It was so unfair, that he should have memories of the Troll Queen. But none of me. I took a deep breath.

  “I know where she has taken him.”

  “You do? How?”

  “Urda told me, as she was dying.”

  “Where?”

  “To an island off Skottland. In the Western Sea, beyond Leodhas. Urda called it Morae,” I said. “I need to look at a map. It is not in the troll atlas, at least as far as I can tell.”

  “Morae,” said Charles. “The queen said something to me about Morae as well. I will go there.”

  “And so will I,” I said.

  He gazed at me, searching my face for something.

  “Nyamh,” he said, “more and more memories have been coming back to me.”

  “That is a good thing,” I said carefully.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But the one blank space, the memory that has not returned, is my wife. The mother of my son.”

  I kept my face still, though my heart was beating fast.

  “Does that not seem strange?” he said.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak.

  “What happened to her? Do you know?”

  I nodded again, then said softly, “You lost her.”

  He shut his eyes as if in pain. “I feared so. You knew her?”

  “Yes, very well,” I said. Abruptly I stood, muttering something about wanting to check on Estelle and that we should be moving along soon.

  I could have told him then, that I was his wife. But something stopped me. It wasn’t to protect him anymore, from the madness I had feared would overtake him. It was to protect me. I didn’t want him to feel a sense of obligation to me. More than anything in the world, I wanted him to remember me on his own. And to love me as he once had.

  Just as we were packing up and making ready to move down the glacier, Ben found us. He had Molly and Pip with him as before, and Pip bounded up to Charles, barking happily.

  I could see that Estelle, even in her feverish state, was charmed by the dog. And we were grateful when Ben offered Molly to carry her.

  I’m not sure what the mountain man thought of us, with our wounds and burnt clothing, not to mention suddenly having a young Fransk girl with us. He asked me only one question, and that was, “Dragon?”

  I nodded and said, “But it is gone now, and I don’t believe it will be back.”

  “Good!” he said emphatically.

  He took care of us, turning out to be well versed in dealing with our various injuries and broken bones, my ankle in particular, which he expertly splinted and wrapped. Snakebites, on the other hand, were foreign to him, but he was helpful to me as I tried to recreate the theriac that Sib had made for me back in Etretat. He even had a few of the more obscure herbs on hand.

  As I had hoped, her snakebite was not as deep as mine, but Estelle was smaller, and so the effects were still bad. She lay feverish for several days in the pallet Ben had set up for her.

  Charles had told me the rest of what the Troll Queen said to him. That she was going to Morae to complete what she had set in motion. Aagnorak. And that she would raise Winn as her son, who would one day rule Huldre.

  I shivered. How were Charles and I going to stop her? It was impossible. And yet we must try. We must rescue our son.

  Neddy

  FINALLY I DEEMED MYSELF ABLE to travel, with Mother’s reluctant blessing.

  Because of the Sweating Sickness, there had been much disruption in shipping over the past month, so Harald Soren had agreed to help those who needed to journey to points in Njord that lay along our route to Calais. I understood, of course, but couldn’t help being impatient at the frequent stops we had to make.

  Sib helped keep me calm, and my joy at having her by my side made the delays easier to bear.

  I hoped that we would find word from Rose at Calais, as she had said she would try to do in her letter. If not, we would head overland to Chamonix.

  Rose

  CHARLES AND I WERE BOTH DESPERATE to go
to Skottland, to find Winn and the Troll Queen, but neither of us felt we could leave Estelle behind, and she was clearly too ill to travel.

  Much to our surprise, it was Ben who offered a solution.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said gruffly and without preamble. “Wasn’t prying, you know. It is a small house, after all. But I gather you need to get to Calais, as soon as possible?”

  We had figured out that Calais was the closest port and the best place to find a ship to Skottland.

  “Yes,” said Charles.

  “And the young miss is too ill to travel, I understand,” Ben said. “Well, it just so happens that I need to journey to Calais myself. I have a sister there who is always after me to visit. Long overdue, I am, and Molly, Pip, and I would be happy to help convey the girl. They’ve both taken a shine to Estelle, and I’ve done all the crystal gathering I need for the season.”

  “That is very good of you,” said Charles. “But are you sure?”

  Ben cut him off with a frown. “Always sure. Wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t.”

  “I think Estelle can make it to Calais,” I said, “if she rides on Molly’s back. But she may still be too fragile to journey with us to Skottland. She doesn’t take well to sea travel,” I added.

  “As to that, my sister is a kindly sort, much more so than I, and I’m sure you could arrange for the child to stay with her until you are able to come back. Pip and Molly and I might stay for a spell ourselves. Keep her company.”

  “And I can send word to Neddy, once we get to Calais,” I said, thinking out loud. “My brother, that is. He could come get her from Njord.”

  “Sounds like we’ve got a plan,” said Ben.

  We left the next morning. Before departing, I pored over the old tattered map I’d brought along, looking closely at Skottland and its islands. To my disappointment, I could find none named Morae, or anything close. I was sure Urda had said “Morae.” Charles had heard the same word from the Troll Queen herself, and in one of her lucid moments during our journey back from Mont Blanc, Estelle had told me about her own incident in the throne room, with the echecs queen game piece, and how Urda had told her never to touch the Morae queen.

  I was sure I was right about what Urda had said. But why could I not find it on the map? Perhaps it is too small, I thought.

  I took out the little key Urda had pressed into my hand and looked at it closely for the first time. It was so small, it was hard to imagine what it might unlock. It was pale in color, a grayish white, and more delicate than I had realized. I had assumed it was metal, like most keys, but it felt different, more like ivory.

  What did it unlock? And how would it help me rescue Winn from the Troll Queen?

  Estelle

  I DON’T REMEMBER MUCH AFTER LEAVING the troll palace on top of the mountain. I was either very cold or very hot. I had scary dreams of the white troll-snake. I cried out for my maman, for Winn, for Rose. I dreamed that Charles was alive, and it turned out that dream was true.

  I remembered Urda dying, too. Sometimes I screamed, remembering all the blood. Urda’s blood. The snake’s blood. My blood.

  I came to myself more when we were in the little house owned by the frowning man, Ben. There was a dog named Pip, who sometimes licked my face, and a gentle mule named Molly. Even though Ben was grouchy, he was très gentil when he ran a cold cloth over my hot face. And he gave me medicine that helped me get better.

  When I was feeling a little stronger, Rose came and sat with me, feeding me soup that Ben had made. I found I was a little hungry for the first time, and the soup smelled good.

  “Estelle,” Rose said, spooning soup into my mouth, “you have been very brave.”

  “I didn’t keep Winn safe,” I said, turning away from the spoon, tears coming to my eyes.

  “Hush,” Rose said. “You did keep him safe, for a long time. You couldn’t have stopped what happened. Charles and I couldn’t either.”

  “I’m happy Charles is alive,” I said, cheering up a little.

  “Yes,” she said, but she looked sad.

  Then I remembered something. It was when we were coming down the mountain and Charles was carrying me. I was awake for a little while, and I heard him saying something to Rose. Except he called her something else. Namm, or something like that.

  “Why did he call you that funny name?” I asked.

  She looked surprised. “You mean Nyamh?”

  “Oui,” I said. She offered me another spoonful of soup, but I shook my head. I was feeling tired and not hungry anymore.

  “Estelle, Charles was hurt. His head was hurt,” she said. “And it took away his memory. Some of it has come back. He remembers you, Estelle. And Winn. But he doesn’t remember me. He doesn’t know that I am Winn’s mother.”

  I stared at her, in shock. At first I didn’t understand what she was saying. But then I did. “That is triste, so sad for you, Rose.”

  “It is,” she admitted. “But I am very grateful he is alive. One thing I need to ask of you, Estelle, is not to say anything to him. It is better for him to go on thinking of me as Nyamh.”

  I said I would do as she asked. Suddenly I was very tired and told Rose I wanted to go to sleep now. Rose helped me lie down and tucked the blankets around me.

  She kissed me on the forehead, and I slept.

  Rose

  AFTER STOPPING IN CHAMONIX to retrieve our horses, we headed to Calais. The journey took four days and was very taxing on Estelle, who was still weak from the snakebite. Ben guided us to his sister’s home, and she turned out to be a cozy, warm woman named Berenice, who was thrilled to see her grumpy brother. She was welcoming to Estelle, making a big fuss over the exhausted girl.

  As Ben had predicted, Berenice was happy to have Estelle stay with her. I told her I hoped it wouldn’t be for too long, that either we’d be back or my brother Neddy would come for her.

  Calais was a bustling port, and a larger town than I had ever been in. It wasn’t difficult to find a ship heading to Skottland, and we booked passage on one leaving the next morning.

  I composed two letters to Neddy, one to send on to Trondheim and the other to be held here in Calais in case he had received the message I sent from La Rochelle and decided to head straight to Calais, and then on to Mont Blanc.

  Because we couldn’t take them on the ship to Skottland, we gave our horses to Berenice and Ben. I was very sad to part from my sweet-natured Ciuin, as was Charles to say goodbye to Valentina, but I was comforted to think they would have a good home.

  We set off for the marketplace to buy provisions for the journey ahead. On our way there, I spotted the storefront of a craftsman who specialized in stonework. What caught my eye was an echecs set displayed in the window. The pieces appeared to be made of ivory. On an impulse, I told Charles I wanted to stop in the shop, that I would catch up with him at the market‑place. He agreed.

  I was greeted by the proprietor, an older gentleman with a quiet manner. He asked what he could help me with. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the two echecs pieces—Queen Maraboo and the knight.

  The proprietor of the shop smiled when he saw Queen Maraboo, but when he took the knight piece in his hand, his expression grew serious.

  “This is very fine workmanship,” he said. “How did you come by it?”

  I blurted something out about it being the gift of a friend, blushing a little at the lie. But he didn’t seem to notice my awkwardness and went back to inspecting it.

  “Yes, it is very much like the work of an unknown craftsman who carved echecs sets back in the eleven hundreds. It is very fine indeed.”

  “Is it perhaps from an island in the Western Sea called Morae?” I asked hopefully.

  He shook his head. “In truth, I don’t know. And I have never heard of such an isle.”

  I nodded, discouraged, then on an impulse, drew the key out of my pocket.

  “I was wondering,” I said tentatively, “if you could tell me anything at a
ll about this. It is a key, I think.”

  He nodded, but I noticed that he flinched a little when he took the key into his callused hands. A frown wrinkled his forehead.

  “Yes, it seems to be a key, very small, though . . .” He looked up at me, a strange glint in his eye. “Do you know what it is made of?”

  “I thought it to be ivory,” I said. “Perhaps walrus tusk?”

  He shook his head. “No, it is not ivory. It is bone.”

  “Bone?”

  “Yes,” he said, and he set it down and pushed it toward me. “It has the feel of human bone about it. I do not like it.”

  I stared down at the key. Human bone? I shivered.

  I could see he was unsettled by the key, so I took it back and thrust it into my pocket again.

  “Thank you for your help,” I said. And I left.

  * * *

  It was difficult saying goodbye to Estelle, but I had confidence in Ben and his sister, and Estelle was clearly still too weak to travel. She had gotten very attached to Pip and told me that when we were all back at home, she wanted a puppy of her own, just like Pip. I promised we would try to find one for her.

  Charles and I were much together on the ship, and it was a companionable time.

  As long as we stayed in the present, it was easy between us. We both accepted that, and it became habit.

  I spent some of the time on board ship mending my cloak. Thanks to the Blood Rain, the scorching breath of the dragon, and being buried by an avalanche, it was even more tattered than when I had left for Etretat so many weeks ago. Father’s wind rose design was getting harder and harder to make out, but I still loved it well. And I had a strong superstitious feeling about the cloak because, after all, it had gotten me this far.

  When I was up on deck, I also tried listening to the winds. I thought I could hear bits of melody here and there, and wished Sib were there with me, to help me make sense of them. I missed Sib and Neddy and the rest of my family. I hoped they were well and safe in Trondheim.