Part 11 (1/2)

Her fingers were still pressing my nose tightly. ”Be still!” she admonished. ”You'll knock it out of joint again.” She began to murmur rapidly under her breath. One hand held my nose in place and one hand gracefully drew sigils and runes in the air with amazing rapidity. Healing spells. Again, useful spells that I did not know. Then I remembered that I'd been learning a healing spell when I had made the library vomit books.

”Okay,” she murmured a minute or two later. ”Now let's tape it into place.” She quickly tore off a piece of white bandage tape and carefully placed it across my nose. She looked at her handiwork and smiled. ”You look like a little boxer,” she said. ”After a prizefight.”

”Bantamweight. I was just thinking that,” said Solis.

I had zero response to this. Ze-ro.

”Now, sit up and finish this tea.”

I did. Already the pain in my nose was lessening. When the mug was empty, I didn't sound like Elmer Fudd anymore.

”Now, what happened?” Solis asked just as River and Reyn came into the room.

Could Reyn see me just once in decent clothes, with my hair brushed? Apparently not. ”What happened?” he echoed, looking pretty forbidding.

I didn't want to talk about the wreck. I was pretty sure it was my own darkness that had caused the car to become suicidal. ”I went to town,” I began reluctantly, with the instant, oops, recollection that I'd run off without telling anyone. ”Everything was fine, car was fine. Then, on the driveway, the car picked up speed without me noticing. I tried to slow down, but the brakes were out.” I paused, trying to remember exactly. ”I realized I was going to wreck-I was going to cream River's red truck. But the steering wheel turned, and I couldn't stop it. It aimed me right at the tree.”

”Did you try the parking brake?” Solis asked.

I nodded. ”I yanked up on it, but it didn't do anything.”

River came over and smoothed her hand over my hair. The longer pieces in front had blood drying on them. ”How come you went to town?” she asked gently.

”I had to get something. Really quick.”

”The car was spelled,” Reyn said.

River looked concerned. ”I was able to stop the engine. I felt dark magick, strong magick, but it was very well done. I couldn't pick up on any signature. Where did you park, in town? How long were you away from the car?”

”Not long,” I said. ”I parked at the curb, outside of Early's. I couldn't have been gone more than ten minutes?” Then my eyebrows rose as I realized what she was saying. She thought that maybe someone had put a spell on my car in town. And then I remembered: In my last dream about Incy, he had been in the Liberty Hotel, in Boston. In my previous visions, when I could tell where he was, he'd been in California. Was Incy actually in Boston? Maybe even closer? Could it have been him? Him, and not me? After a moment, I shook my head, which was a mistake. I was so tired of thinking about all this.

Asher came in. My small room was really crowded. ”I just heard,” he said, looking at me, then at River.

”Go look at Nastasya's car, will you?” River asked him. ”I couldn't get anything, but maybe you can.”

He nodded and left, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Anne stood up. ”Rest for a while,” she said. ”Come down for lunch.”

”Okay.” Everyone filed out and my room became peaceful again.

Reyn lingered by the door. He didn't say anything-just looked at me. I felt embarra.s.sed. It would probably be comforting to have his arms around me. Did that show in my eyes? Could he tell what I was thinking?

After a couple seconds, or maybe an hour, he turned and left, silent as an a.s.sa.s.sin.

I slept.

CHAPTER 14.

Is he coming?” I whispered to Eyds.

Eyds peeked around the heavy tapestry. ”No,” she barely breathed.

We grinned at each other in delight. I was seven; she was nine. We were hiding from our pesky younger brother, Hakon, who always wanted to follow us. We didn't hate him, but he was only not-even-four yet, and he was making us crazy. We'd found an excellent hiding spot: The walls of my father's castle were made of stone. In Iceland. So almost all of them were covered with huge hanging tapestries through every season except summer. Eyds and I were both really skinny, and if we stood on tiptoe and inhaled, we made barely a ripple in the fabric. It had been working splendidly for days-Hakon was losing his mind with frustration.

”Riders! My lord, riders!” The loud shout came from the bailey outside. Instantly, Eyds and I heard the clink of weapons and s.h.i.+elds, the neighing of horses. We ran to a nearby window and cranked it open, unable to see through the wavy gla.s.s. Far in the distance, rising over the crest of mountain that defined my father's land, was a small group of riders. They didn't look like a huge threat, but still-they could be merely a scouting party.

”Pull the gates!” people were shouting below. My father's steward was making sure we were locking sheep and goats and all our horses inside our walls before six men pulled on the chains, as thick as my arm, that closed the bailey gates.

Eyds and I watched for hours. Hakon found us, of course, and I pulled a stool over so he could stand on it and watch also. No more riders came-we counted seven when they were close enough. Slowly, slowly, their details came into focus: One was carrying a color standard, showing what clan they were from.

By the time they stopped outside the city walls, word had come to us, by runner: The riders were carrying the standard of lfur Haraldsson, my father. It had been unmistakable, the runner wheezed-five black bears on a red background, crowned with a wreath of oak leaves.

There was tremendous excitement: The riders were my uncle and his men! I hadn't even known I had an uncle!

We all raced downstairs and waited with my father in front of his hrkur-castle is too big a word. Like a big stone manor house that looked like a small castle. To my surprise I saw that my father was wearing his crown-a thin gold circlet set with rubies and pearls, with one brown diamond in the center. He almost never wore it. I guessed he wanted to look fancy for his brother. My mother had on her second-best gown-a deep blue heavy linen with slashed sleeves laced up with gold threads. Beneath her linen cap, her hair was in two braids, long enough to sit on. She was wearing the amulet she always wore, and looked beautiful and solemn.

The gates opened with groans and creaks, and then my uncle and his men rode in. They had big black horses, and, yes, one of the men was carrying the same standard that my father's man carried when Fair rode to another town to visit, or when there was trouble and he had to bring his army someplace.

I began to run to meet them, but my father clamped his hand on my shoulder with an iron grip. I looked up at him, and then my mother pulled me behind her. ”Wait, Lilja,” she murmured. ”Your father goes first.”

The man in front swung off his horse. He looked like my father, big and fair, but younger and less hardened by battle. He came and made a sweeping bow before my father, which people did all the time.

My father stepped forward and held out his arms. ”Geir! It's been far too long!” They hugged, patting each other hard on the back. I was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

When my mother introduced us-my two sisters, my two brothers, and me-I blurted, ”I didn't know I had an uncle!”

Uncle Geir made an unusual face and glanced at my father. ”You used to have several,” he said. ”But now there's only me.”

”Come in, Geir,” said my father. ”You must be tired from the journey.”

We had a special dinner that night. I fell asleep while my father and Uncle Geir were still talking. Not long after dawn I woke up in my bed, threw on my clothes, and raced downstairs. Uncle Geir had told such interesting stories. I had forgotten to ask if he had children. Maybe they could come to visit.

I was about to knock on my father's study door when I heard raised voices coming from inside. I knew they had to be raised, because this door was four inches thick-you had to shout to be heard outside Fair's study.

”Lilja, what are you doing?” My mother stood there with the housekeeper, her arms full of linens.

”I wanted to see Fair,” I said. ”But listen: Why are he and Uncle Geir arguing?”

In our language, we had different words for an uncle from the father's side and an uncle from the mother's side. It translated to, literally, ”Father-brother” and ”Mother-brother.”

”Shah,” my mother said, taking my hand and pulling me away. ”They're not arguing. They're both big bears of men and talk loudly. Now go have breakfast. There's cold rabbit from last night.”

So I ran off. The next morning, my father and my uncle and my uncle's men and some of my father's men set off to go hunting for the wild boars that ran through the woods.

It was sunset before my father and his men came home. My father looked weary and heartsick: A tragedy had occurred. Uncle Geir, though unfamiliar with our land, had laughingly challenged my father to a race. My father shouted a warning at him, but Geir refused to listen. ”He was ever headstrong,” my father said.