The Lost City

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The Lost City Page 26

by Amanda Hocking


  “Nobody let anything happen,” Dagny shot back.

  “Guys, calm down.” That was Pan, quieter, more composed. From the corner of my eye, I could see him, holding his hands up as he tried to calm them. “You’ll wake her up.”

  “I’m up,” I said—croaked, really, since my throat was so scratchy and dry.

  I started to sit up, and Pan was there, his hands on my arm and back, helping me. “Easy. Those psionic stun guns can have lingering effects.”

  “Don’t forget that nice metallic lime taste in your mouth,” Dagny added dourly, and I already knew exactly what she was talking about. It was a strangely corrosive flavor, like pennies and citrus and battery acid.

  “Give her the water,” Hanna suggested, and Pan hurried to fetch me a glass of water from the end table that sat between our beds.

  Based on the two hospital beds and the bland, antiseptic décor, I surmised that we were all in the medic office. It was just the four of us—Dagny sitting on the edge of Hanna’s bed, Pan beside me handing me the water—but there really wasn’t room for much else. It was a small room, with mint-green walls and a narrow counter along the back stocked with gauzes, potions, and other medical supplies.

  “So what happened?” I asked, once I’d gulped down an entire glass of water and my voice returned to normal. “Sumi got us with that stun gun?”

  “Yeah, the thing knocks you right out,” Dagny said.

  “That’s what happened to me too. But I had the added bonus of hitting my head on the bookcase as I fell.” Hanna grimaced and touched the bandage on her temple.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine, except for the fact that you guys let Eliana get kidnapped!” Hanna was nearly shouting by then, and tears were welling in her eyes.

  Dagny groaned. “Will you stop?”

  “Nobody let them take her,” I told Hanna. “Not you. Not us. Maybe . . . maybe Illaria was telling the truth. She looks like her twin sister, and Eliana definitely is sick. Maybe Illaria really did just want to get her home and take care of her.”

  “But she didn’t want to go with them!” Hanna insisted. “She was afraid of them!”

  “She doesn’t remember them, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re bad,” I reasoned.

  “Oh, yeah? Then what was with the weapons?” Hanna shot back. “That freaky lightning bolt gun? And this dagger?”

  She pulled back the sheet and reached under the hem of her dress to where she had tucked a sheathed dagger into her floral garter. She tossed it on the bed in front of me.

  “I got that from Sumi. She had that on her, and I grabbed it before she stunned me. I woke up before the medics came and hid it under my dress. I didn’t want them to take it before I got the chance to figure out what it meant.”

  “I know this symbol,” I whispered, tracing my fingertips across the markings embossed in the leather sheath and engraved in the metal handle. It was a viny triskelion, like the one I’d seen before. On the Jem-Kruk book in Johan’s office. On the telegram with my mother’s name. On the book that Calder had shown me, about the Älvolk cult and the Lost Bridge of Dimma.

  “I’ve seen this before,” I said.

  Dagny walked over to look at it more closely. “Do you know what it is?”

  “Kind of. But I think I know someone who knows a lot more.”

  57

  Myths

  Pan and I sat in the tiny kitchen of Calder’s suite, while he was back in his bedroom, changing out of an old velour robe into something more presentable. Not that I faulted him for answering the door wearing nothing but a bathrobe. It wasn’t even nine-thirty on a Saturday, the morning after the festival, no less, so it was perfectly reasonable for him to be sleeping when we came up pounding on his door.

  It had been the middle of the night by the time the medical and security staff cleared us all to go, and we were all exhausted, and Hanna was still recovering. She was leaving the next day, and I didn’t want to bring her along on a possibly dangerous goose chase, so we’d decided the best thing to do would be to go to our respective homes and get some rest.

  Despite my anxiety about Eliana and the whole situation, the weight of the day hit me at once, and I fell asleep relatively fast. I wanted to believe that Eliana was safe with her sister, that everything Illaria had said was true, but I wasn’t about to take her word for it. The only thing I knew for sure was that Eliana was sick and I had to be sure that she was okay.

  I’d called Pan this morning at nine—which was the soonest Dagny would allow me to start making calls; anything earlier would be blasphemous. I had only been looking for Calder’s address, but he offered to go with me, so I took him up on it.

  Hanna begged to go with, but I managed to convince her to stay behind with Dagny and pack up her stuff. Her dad would be here in a few hours, and I reminded her how upset she would be if she left anything important behind, like any of the crafts she’d made with Eliana, and that finally got through to her.

  Calder’s apartment was located just outside of the Mimirin. Technically it was part of the institution itself, but it was a boxy addition that had been part of the midcentury renovations. These had been built as cheap housing for staff, and that was exactly how they looked—cheap, efficient, stark, unloved.

  I didn’t know what the other places looked like (although I imagined that they were mostly identical), but Calder’s was a tiny two-room apartment. It had a nauseating amount of pea-green fixtures and accents, and there was a great deal of clutter in the form of books, papers, and dusty knickknacks.

  “Much better.” Calder came out of his bedroom, having changed into an oddly formal monogrammed pajama set. He ran his hand through his silvery hair and cast a derisive glance at where Pan and I sat at his kitchen table.

  “We’re sorry again for waking you up so early,” I said. “We really appreciate you talking to us like this.”

  “And I appreciate sleeping in on Saturdays, but here we are.” He smiled thinly at me, then went about making himself a cup of tea. He picked up the teakettle from the stove—he’d put it on when he let us in—and poured the hot water over the infuser in his mug.

  He turned back around to face us, leaning against the counter and letting his tea steep. “Out with it, then. What is it that you needed so badly this morning?”

  “I need you to tell me everything you can about this.” I’d been carrying Sumi’s stolen dagger in my bag, and I pulled it out and set it on the table. “I need to know about the Älvolk and where they are.”

  He stared at it for a long moment, not saying anything, and then took a long sip of his tea. “They’re not supposed to be anywhere anymore.”

  “I know, but they are.” I tapped the blade. “This was taken from someone last night, someone who helped kidnap my friend.”

  “True Älvolk are said only to reside in the First City,” he said finally. “Although I suppose the followers could reside anywhere. I haven’t looked closely at the weapon, but a cursory glance suggests it has markings of an authentic artifact. Someone who had that and not one of the cheap copies that came later, that sounds more like a true believer.”

  “First City. You mean Áibmoráigi?” I asked.

  Calder nodded. “That is the purported home of the Älvolk, so that would be the first place I’d look for them.”

  “That’s somewhere in Scandinavia, right?” Pan asked.

  “Somewhere being the operative word,” Calder said with a wry chuckle. “The location has been lost or hidden—there are stories claiming both. It was done after the Lost Bridge of Dimma fell, and after the Grændöden, the Green Death, wiped out many of the tribe.”

  “So . . . wait. Is it a real city? Or is it a myth?” I asked.

  “Can’t it be both?” Calder asked. “I always thought that it was a mixture. It had been a real city, but now it’s empty and buried in ice.”

  “Hasn’t anyone tried to find it?” I asked.

  “Of course they have
. All the tribes have sent expeditions over the years. But as time went on, and the fortunes grew smaller, the search for the First City and the Lost Bridge seemed unimportant. There were rumors that the Omte had a lead on them many years ago, but if anything came of it, they wouldn’t be ones to tell.”

  “So, if I needed to get to Áibmoráigi, how would I do that?” I asked.

  He laughed again. “You wouldn’t. I don’t think it exists anymore. But if you want to find out where it used to be, I would suggest you start with the Omte. They tried to find it longer than anyone else.”

  “Is there anything else we could go on?” Pan asked. “Any advice at all?”

  “I do have some advice, but I doubt you’ll take it.” Calder shook his head. “Don’t go.”

  58

  Departure

  Considering how appalled Hanna had been by the idea of going back to Förening, her reaction to Finn showing up was pretty surprising. All morning long—aside from the brief break I had when I went over to Calder’s apartment—I’d been listening to Hanna complain and pout about going home.

  But the second Finn got out of his car, Hanna burst into tears and raced down the steps to meet him. He scooped her up, easily lifting her off the ground while they hugged.

  I knew how much Hanna loved her family, but it was startling to witness such a transformation happen so quickly. Sometimes I forgot that, despite all her attempts to seem mature and fit in with me and Dagny (and the rather maternal role she’d taken on with Eliana), Hanna was still just a kid. A scared, obviously homesick kid.

  Fortunately, even with all the crying (mostly Hanna, but I shed a few, along with Dagny), the goodbyes went fairly fast. Last night, after we’d gotten back from the medic, I’d called Finn and told him about Hanna’s recent injury, and he took it in stride. Once he got here and saw it with his own eyes he had a lot of questions, but Dagny swooped in with her biology expertise and medical experience, and she put him at ease. It also helped that Hanna owned up to her mistakes in the whole situation—namely running to the library instead of going to the guards for help.

  “I know that things got dicey at the end, but I still want to thank you for helping out so much with Hanna,” Finn said, during the few minutes we had alone.

  We had finished loading up his vehicle when Hanna realized that she’d forgotten her phone charger back in the apartment. Dagny went with her to help her find it, while I waited outside with Finn.

  “I hope you know that I did my best to keep her safe.” I stared down at the road, kicking absently at a pebble with my bare foot. “I’m really sorry that she got hurt.”

  “I know that, Ulla,” he said gently. “I try to protect my family as much as I’m able, but the world is a dangerous place. The only way to truly keep my kids out of danger is to keep them hidden away, but that’s not what life is for. I want them to be part of the world, and that means sometimes they’ll get hurt. I have to prepare them the best I can, and surround them with folks like you.”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks.”

  “Do you still think you’ll be coming back to Förening when you’re done here?” Finn asked.

  “I really don’t know when I’ll be back. I have some things I have to take care of first.”

  “Just keep us in the loop. We always like to hear how you’re doing, and our door is always open for you.”

  Hanna returned and then it was another ten minutes of hugging, crying, and promises to call. When they finally left, it was bittersweet watching them drive off. I would miss Hanna now, the same way I missed Niko and Emma and all the kids. But it would be a lie if I said that things wouldn’t be easier here without Hanna, especially with what I had ahead of me.

  As soon as they were gone, I ran back up to the apartment to start packing for myself.

  “You’re really doing this?” Dagny called up to me. She stood at the bottom of the ladder below my loft, and though I wasn’t looking at her, I knew her arms were crossed over her chest.

  I knelt on the floor beside my mattress, packing up the last of my stuff. “You know that I am, and you know why I have to.”

  I’d already gathered up all my clothes and a few other things I needed to take with me. All I had left really were my toiletries in the bathroom and my important papers. In the drawer in my nightstand, I’d saved everything I knew about my parents and the Älvolk.

  Most of what I had came from Mrs. Tulin and the package of things she’d sent after Mr. Tulin died. The few pictures they’d taken of me when I was a baby, the medical records from my first few doctor’s appointments, Mr. Tulin’s handwritten account of the night I had been left at their house, and a three-by-three-inch painting he had done of the woman who had abandoned me there.

  The woman who might be my mother. Her hair was shorter and darker than mine, and her cheeks were red and windburned from the cold. She had the look of a soldier after war, battle-weary and haunted.

  There were a few other things I’d added to my meager collection since I’d been here. The telegram I’d found mentioning Orra Fågel, the maps and diagrams I’d copied from the Älvolk book, and my Moleskine notebook with my handwritten notes about everything I had learned in the Mimirin.

  I grabbed a pen and opened the notebook, preparing to add what Calder had told us about Áibmoráigi. It hadn’t been much, but I never knew what would be helpful later on.

  But when I flipped to the next blank page—which I’d marked with a ribbon attached to the spine—I found that it wasn’t blank anymore. A message had been scrawled across the paper in bold handwriting that I didn’t recognize.

  If you ever want to say hello—to me or to

  Eliana—come find us. X Jem-Kruk

  I ran my fingers over the long-dry ink, unable to decide which was the most pressing question—how, when, or why he’d written that note for me. But I quickly decided there was an entirely different question that mattered more: Where was he?

  There was a knock at the front door, and on her way to answer it, Dagny yelled up to me, “Ulla, Pan is here!”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  I closed my journal and carefully placed it in my backpack with the other papers. Dagny let Pan in, and they made small talk about Hanna’s departure, while I did one last sweep of my room, making sure that I’d gotten every last earring or electronic charger.

  I slung my backpack over my shoulder and climbed down the ladder to join them. Pan grinned when he saw me, and my stomach flipped when I remembered that I was about to take a very long road trip with him.

  “Are you ready?” I asked him.

  “Yeah, I think so. I already put my bags in the vehicle, and I called my boss and my landlord this morning, so everything is set.”

  “You guys are both crazy for doing this,” Dagny said with a sigh. “But it’s a good kinda crazy. I wish that I could go with you, to find Eliana and to help you find the truth about your parents.”

  “Elof needs you here,” Pan said. “We understand that.”

  “Yeah, and if you’re not here helping him figure out what the deal is with my blood and Eliana’s blood, we might never know for sure who we are,” I reminded her.

  “I know, I know,” she said. “Where are you guys headed first?”

  “Well, we’re starting by visiting the Omte,” I said.

  “I wish you both the best of luck. And you’ll call me if you need anything?” she asked.

  “I’ll call you even if I don’t need anything,” I said. She rolled her eyes, and I pulled her into a hug. “Take care of yourself, Dag.”

  “You too.”

  When we separated, I looked up at Pan and gave him a nervous smile. “You ready for this?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready for anything.”

  TRIBAL FACTS

  Kanin—(symbol White Rabbit)

  The Kanin are the largest tribe of trolls, with a population approaching fifty thousand. They are also one of the wealthiest tribes, and with their specially t
rained guard known as the Högdragen, they are arguably one of the most powerful.

  The Kanin are also the oldest tribe of trolls. They are descended from the original trolls that traveled from Scandinavia during the Viking Age and founded the city of Doldastam. The tribe officially split in two when the ruling brothers Norund the Younger and Jorund the Elder fought about moving south. In circa 1200 CE Norund stayed in the north, calling his tribe the Kanin and strengthening the city of Doldastam, while his brother went south and established the Vittra tribe and their capital, Ondarike.

  Like many of the other tribes, the Kanin still practice changelings, but thanks to their prosperity and large population, they do it more infrequently than they once did. On average, only one out of every ten babies born to a Markis and Marksinna are left with a human host family.

  While the Kanin do have some of the minor psychokinetic abilities trolls are known for, like persuasion and rapid healing, their most powerful ability is that of color-changing. Like a hyper-chameleon’s, their skin can change color to blend in with its surroundings, making them nearly impossible to spot.

  Doldastam is the capital and largest city of the Kanin, located in the northeastern province of Manitoba in Canada. It was chosen because of its secluded location several miles away from Hudson Bay. When it was originally settled, the subarctic winters meant that the city was entirely isolated from the rest of the world.

  The tribe managed to survive thanks to their dependency on changelings sent to the prosperous human cities, as well as their Gotland rabbits and Tralla horses. The Gotland rabbits could handle the harsh cold and reproduced quickly, making the Kanin diet largely carnivorous until they were able to properly set up the community and establish a garden year-round.

  Now the Gotland rabbits are revered symbols of the Kanin’s perseverance, adaptability, and quick thinking. White rabbits are still bred and owned by many of the Kanin citizens in Doldastam, and now eating them is considered taboo.

 

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