I know him. How do I know him?
His meaty, scarred hand held onto the hilt of the curved dagger in his belt. He started to turn, as if he would look to see who Jeffers was talking to.
Miri let the door close. She turned and ran from Jeffers’s house and off the island, her heartbeats keeping pace with her feet.
Dogface. That was what he was called. Two years ago she’d watched him and his fellow bandits depart Mount Eskel in a snowstorm. What would he do if he recognized the girl who spoiled their raid and led their chief over a cliff?
Bandits have no honor. Bandits love only coin and death.
Back at the house, Miri fetched ink, quill, and parchment from her bag and wrote a hasty letter to Britta, reporting what was happening with Jeffers and the allowance.
When she returned to town the traders were gone. She kept running, her side aching, and caught them a few minutes into the woods.
“Here!” she called. “Here’s a letter, if you please. For Princess Britta at the white stone palace. She’ll pay you for its delivery.”
A young trader took it but looked at Gunnar with an eyebrow raised.
“Give it here,” said Gunnar. “I’ll take care of it, my lady.”
“Um, perhaps it would be best if I went with you and carried the letter myself,” she said.
“You could join us,” said Gunnar. “Unfortunately I couldn’t guarantee your safety, not being king-sworn myself.”
Another trader was standing very close beside her. She could feel his hot exhales on the top of her head.
“No, th-thank you,” she said. “Just … please, deliver the letter. The princess will pay you well.”
Miri hurried away, not stopping until she reached the shade of the linder house to read the letters.
Dear Miri,
I am writing from our camp a day’s ride from Asland, and the messenger just gave me your letter. I will send this note back with him. I will let your father and sister know you are not coming and give them your things.
I want to say something cheery so you will not feel sad. But I cannot think of a thing. I guess I do not have your imagination. Perhaps we never should have gone to Asland. Perhaps it is a safer life when a king and queen do not know your name.
I know you want me to return to Mount Eskel and my father, so I will. Spring seems so far away.
Thank you for working to win Mount Eskel’s land for us. But I am angry that you have to, so angry I just crushed a beetle beneath my boot. I am trying to impress you with how strong and manly I am. Let all the beetles in Asland fear me and my terrifying boots!
Thank you all the same.
Be careful. A swamp sounds like a thing one could fall into and never be seen again. And I would very much like to see you again.
Yours,
Peder
Miri lifted the paper to her nose, but all she could smell was dust and wind, no lingering tang of ink, no warmth of Peder’s hands. Her heart seemed to curl up like a snail disappearing into its shell.
She unfolded the next letter, careful not to rip the paper.
For Miri my sister,
I have read the letters you sent us from Asland so many times I should know how to write one myself. Please tell me if I am doing it wrong. I just talk to you in words on a page, right? I feel silly talking when you are not here to answer.
Peder told us you are not coming home yet. I know you must want to. You are probably worried that we are sad. Please do not worry about us. But please come home soon.
Pa is well. He misses you. In the quarry I am doing squaring as well as stone braking. The autumn weather is mild. We have enough food.
Please come home.
Marda
Miri reread the letters for the rest of the day. In the warm, sticky night she lay awake remembering again and again the moment when she’d said good-bye to Peder in the palace courtyard. Why hadn’t she stayed longer? Kissed him again? Held him so tight she might be holding him still? Instead she lay alone on a hard reed mat accosted by a night sharp with croaks and clicks, so far away from home she could not remember the scent of the high mountains, the sound of Marda’s voice, or the exact color of Peder’s eyes.
Chapter Seven
Gray for sparrow, red for ant
Green for the sapling of the deep water plant
Black for spider, orange for moth
Brown for the coverings cut from cloth
That night, Miri went to sleep aching for home. But instead of dreams of Marda, Peder, and Pa, Miri’s mind danced with visions of people she had never seen before.
Twin girls with bright red hair. She saw them against the backdrop of stone in the linder house like a watercolor painting on parchment. Three women sat on chairs, talking while the little girls played with painted wood animals. Outside the window, a cluster of reed houses.
In the morning, the dream still clung to Miri, invisible yet tangible, like a spiderweb caught on her arms.
Though the door was open and the windows just empty stone frames, the house felt closed up and airless. Miri went to the outhouse, and heat and wet air followed her like a swarm of gnats. Sometimes she swatted at a tickle on her forehead or the backs of her knees only to discover there was no snake or biting insect—just dripping sweat.
The sisters spent that day the same as the last—fishing, hunting, trapping, and cleaning. Even though they passed all their time gathering food, at night Miri’s stomach felt like half of itself. She’d gotten used to three full meals each day at the palace in Asland. She was not the same tough mountain girl she’d once been.
When Miri tried to talk to the girls about Arithmetic, Etiquette, and other subjects, Astrid hushed her.
“We’re not your students, and you’re not our pooter-tutor.”
Felissa giggled.
The girls let Miri tell stories at least. While standing in knee-deep water, trying to net fish, Miri recounted the history of Queen Gertrud.
Miri had first heard the account while studying at the Queen’s Castle. Hundreds of years ago, King Jorgan had bought linder blocks from Mount Eskel, hauled them to Asland, and built a white stone palace. And when the minister of defense had tried to turn the old red-brick castle on the river island into a prison, King Jorgan’s wife, Queen Gertrud, claimed it instead to use for education. It became known as the Queen’s Castle and served as a university.
“My friends and I told Gertrud’s story to Queen Sabet, Danland’s current queen. I think it gave her courage to help us when we needed her. Until then, I don’t think she really believed a queen could do much of anything.”
“What is Queen Sabet like?” asked Felissa.
“She’s timid. No,” Miri said, realizing, “she’s sad. She must have been remarkable when she was at her princess academy for the king to choose her from the others.”
“Does she have anyone to hug her?” Felissa asked.
Miri blinked at the oddness of the question.
“She’s a queen,” Astrid said, waving her hand. “She probably has servants paid just to give her hugs.”
Felissa laughed at the idea. “Still, I don’t like to think of someone sad and alone in a big house.”
A wriggle of movement caught Miri’s eye. She screamed and scrambled ashore.
“It’s only my net!” said Astrid. “Soggy bottom bellows, Miri, but you just woke up the world.”
“Give yourself more time, you’ll get used to noticing unusual movement,” Felissa said.
Miri had barely recovered from the frightening sight of Astrid’s net-that-was-not-a-snake when a pop cracked the air. Miri dropped to a crouch.
“What are you doing?” Astrid asked.
“A musket fired!” said Miri. “Hide in the reeds, maybe the war has begun.”
“What war?”
“That was probably just a burst berry,” said Felissa.
She led Miri to a nearby bush. Hanging heavy among the greenish blue leaves were perfectly round berries. Feliss
a picked two. One was white and small. The other was twice its size and looked painfully bloated, the skin stretched and nearly transparent. Inside, Miri could see lots of black seeds.
“The berries keep growing bigger and bigger till they burst,” said Felissa.
She clapped the large berry between her palms. Again that sharp popping sound, and the seeds flew out in all directions. Miri flinched. Poisonous snakes were silent, harmless berries were loud, and in the middle of it all, Miri could not tell what was dangerous.
When four weeks had inched by and at last the Aslandian traders returned to Lesser Alva, Miri was waiting at the mouth of the road. Surely Britta and Steffan would have sent a wagonload of supplies or a wallet of gold coins.
There was nothing.
And from Jeffers: “No letter for you or the stone house sisters, my lady.”
Miri sat on the reeds beside Fat Hofer. She rested her face in her hands, her elbows on her knees.
“What happened?” she asked, her words smooshed like her cheeks between her hands. “I told the traders Britta would pay them for delivering my letter.”
“Come now, my lady, surely you’ve guessed that Jeffers would pay them more not to.” Fat Hofer scratched his bald head beneath his cap. “Write innocent love letters, they won’t interfere. They’re likely eager for those letters to go through and assure everyone in the capital that you’re well, giving no reason to send anyone here to investigate. But a letter that alerts the capital to possibly shady dealings in Lesser Alva will mysteriously disappear—what am I saying?”
He pulled his hat back down over his eyes and shut his mouth.
“I won’t tell that you talk to me for free,” Miri said.
“Not for free,” he said. “You will pay me back one day.”
Miri returned to the house and wrote a letter to Britta that made no mention of Jeffers or the king’s allowance. Instead she told a tale of girls kept prisoner by a mean uncle and denied food. But she named one of the girls Flower, hoping Britta would understand. Miri was named for a flower that grew on the slopes of Mount Eskel.
Miri sent the letter with the traders, but even if Britta did understand her message, Miri suspected it would be in vain. She’d let Jeffers and the traders know her intentions. Any letter of hers to the palace was bound to fall overboard on the journey back to Asland.
When Miri returned to the linder house, the sisters were just back from hunting. Miri brought out one of her books.
“It’s time to study,” she called out.
Astrid did not look up from the fish she was deboning. “There’s nothing you have in those books that will be a seedpod of help to us here, so quit trying.”
“I haven’t been able to get your allowance for you yet,” Miri said, keeping her voice calm. “But we can’t wait any longer. The king sent me here to educate you. The first step is learning to read.”
“She’s mad,” Sus said, her blue-eyed stare so intense Miri flinched.
“Mmhm,” said Felissa. “Crackling mad.”
“Like fat in the fire,” said Astrid, nodding.
“What? I am not. I … I …” Miri noticed her fists were clenched. She forced them to relax. “I’m just—”
“Mad,” said Sus.
Miri rubbed her face and cursed herself. She could pretend all she wanted, but these girls would know the truth. And she’d just realized why. Linder-wisdom. Well, at least she could teach them something they might want to know.
“Felissa, how do you think Sus is feeling right now?”
Felissa squinted at her sister. “Mm, smug.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well, she looks smug.”
“Let’s play a game.” Miri blindfolded Felissa and made a quiet gesture to the other girls. Silently, she strutted in a crouch, flapping her elbows as if she were a chicken. Astrid gaped. Sus covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes smiling.
“Now how is Sus feeling?” Miri asked.
“Um, she’s happy. Or something,” said Felissa.
“And Astrid?”
“She’s kind of annoyed I think. What are you all doing?” Felissa took off her blindfold.
“Chicken,” Sus said, pointing at Miri.
Miri pointed back. “Linder-wisdom. That’s how you know. I can’t sense what you’re feeling. I haven’t lived inside linder for long enough. But you three can. The royal family in Asland has spent most of their lives inside the linder wings of the palace and they have this same talent. Emotions bounce back from linder, and you’ve gained the ability to sense that echo when you’re inside this house.”
“Yes! That’s true, about outside and inside!” Felissa clapped her hands as if Miri had performed a trick.
“I’d never thought about it before,” said Sus, “but it sounds true.”
“Something you didn’t know, Astrid,” said Miri. “Something I was able to teach you.”
Astrid shrugged. “All you did was put a fancy name to what we can already do.”
Miri opened her mouth to answer but had nothing to say.
Astrid passed very close to Miri on her way outside and whispered, “And I’m older than you, tutor.”
Miri stood alone there for some time, listening to the girls’ talk mix with the chirps of swamp sparrows, rude quacks of ducks, and singing from the village islands. A thousand conversations just out of reach.
She pressed her foot against the linder floor and called out in quarry-speech. The memory she silently sang was of the night she’d spent trapped in a closet at the princess academy, forgotten and alone. Everyone who would be able to detect her quarry-speech was much too far away, but she kept on anyway.
Written Autumn Week Ten
Never received
Dear Peder,
I do not know why you think well of me. I seem to remember a time when I was passably useful. On Mount Eskel I could milk the goats and make cheese. How I would love to make cheese right now! Instead of sweating in a swamp not catching fish. Or lizards or rats or turtles or ducks.
And definitely not teaching three girls how to be princesses.
I would run home to you if I could. Even knowing what it would mean to our village to own the land under us, I would abandon my duty if I had any hope of making it home. Now you surely cannot be thinking well of me.
Thinking well of you at least,
Miri
Written Autumn Week Ten
Never received
For Miri my sister,
I hoped to get a letter from you before winter closed the pass, but the first snows have come. No chance in sending this to you now before spring. I will write anyway. It is nice to pretend you can hear me.
Last week, Peder and his father were arguing. The entire village could hear. Peder wanted to go back for you. His pa said Peder’s place is on Mount Eskel. Time to return to quarry work and forget Asland. And forget you too, since you were too enchanted with the lowlands to return home.
Peder ran out of the house. I joined him later on that huge, chair-shaped boulder that looks out over the cliff. He asked me if you would come home if you could, and I said yes.
I brought out the stack of letters you had written to me from Asland over the past year. He read them all. Sometimes he frowned, but mostly he smiled.
He said he was going to find you. I said of course. And so he packed up clothes and food in a blanket and left.
Surely he will find you before spring, when the traders might come to take you this letter. For now, it will sit lonely here on the mantel.
Your sister,
Marda
Chapter Eight
The water slips, the water blinks
The water tips its tail
The water dips, the water sinks
The water shows its scales
What water unhinges its jaws?
The most dangerous kind that was
Miri was so tired of being damp. Her body itched with constant sweat. Her clothes got wet in the mor
ning from splashing through water on the hunt and never really dried. Her feet were filthy, her hair was sticky and frizzed out around her face, pestering her forehead and cheeks with every breeze. She felt more like a scuttling rodent than a person.
And she was tired. So many dreams. The redheaded twins, doing nothing, just playing, sitting, sleeping. She was annoyed with herself for not having more interesting dreams.
Last night in addition to the twins, she had dreams of Astrid and Felissa. They’d been younger, but she’d still known it was them in that way that dreams worked.
“Who lived here before you?” Miri asked, sloshing through hip-deep water with a net.
“Nobody,” said Astrid.
“But the house is old.” And full of memories, Miri thought and wondered if it were true. Could a house’s memories infiltrate her dreams? “Did your mother say how she came to live here?”
“She said it was the best place for us,” said Felissa. “That it was safe.”
Miri slapped a fat mosquito feasting on her arm. She looked back toward the house and considered returning to write to Peder again, even if the letter would never get farther than Jeffers’s hands. Maybe she’d just keep writing to him and Marda and Britta until this boulder in her chest rolled out and let her heart beat freely again.
“Don’t move!” Astrid called out suddenly.
Miri froze. Another snake? She did not want to hold still. She wanted to scream and flail and claw her way out of the water and far from Lesser Alva. But if Astrid said not to move, then she was not in danger of a mere toothless worm.
Astrid was in the water off to her side. She had her knife out.
“I’m going to get it,” Astrid whispered.
“Miri, move slowly to shore,” Sus whispered. “Slowly. Astrid, a little to your left. Felissa …”
Sus handed one pole to Felissa and backed away, taking up a position on shore so the three sisters formed a triangle.
Miri slowly backed up, scanning for a snake. All she noticed was a log floating in the thick green water. Coming closer. And the log had eyes.