The entire drive back to Vigdis and Baldur’s, my mind was casting about like one of those fly-fishing reels — but catching nothing. My shivers continued. Even I didn’t know if I was sick, tired, or freaking out.

Somehow, I knew that Jinky’s theft of the runes was deliberate; she got what she came for. Her witchy “Watch out” still had me spooked. And that drop in my gut, it had been some kind of visceral reaction, but to what? Creepy that it came so quickly on the heels of the odd rune reading. And she had mentioned a “loss” and “reversed love.” I stared out the car window with worst-case scenarios rushing at me faster than the roadside mile markers.

We pulled up to Vigdis and Baldur’s away-from-it-all home, and I was suddenly overcome with foreboding of what awaited inside. I didn’t know what it was, but it was something. My antennae-like hackles were sure of it.

Vigdis, my backseat companion, put a hand on my knee. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” But for how long I didn’t know.

We trudged silently from the car to the house, its location feeling all the more remote and as removed from reality as it was from civilization. Once in their tidy front room and removing coats, Vigdis said, “A phone message,” and pointed to a flashing red light atop a paper-strewn corner desk.

Before I could brace myself, Vigdis took two purposeful steps and pushed a button. My mother’s voice filled the room.

“Dad, Kat, I hate to bother you while you’re on vacation.” She didn’t sound right, even allowing for her delicate condition. “But something’s happened. I wouldn’t feel right not telling you.”

Oh, God, was it the baby?

“Stanley phoned earlier,” my mom continued. “It seems Jack has gone . . . missing . . . as has Brigid. They were on a routine outing, but somehow they got separated from the others.”

My lips were shut, my molars clamped, but somehow screams were careening through my ear canals.

“I wouldn’t have called you”— I could hear in the way my mom’s voice quivered, in the gulf from one word to the next, that she was searching for a way to soften her words —“except it’s been over twenty-four hours and . . . well, just call me when you get this. I’ll tell you what I know. Sorry, honey. Reverse the charges. It doesn’t matter what time.”

“Is Jack the . . . ?” Baldur whispered.

“The boyfriend,” Afi finished for him.

I sensed six eyes raking over me with concern.

“I need to call my mom,” I said.

“I’ll dial,” Afi said, reaching over me.

Whether the call was direct, or routed through an international operator, or the result of tin cans stretched kitchen-to-kitchen, I hardly knew. Nothing mattered until the phone was passed to me and I heard the sound of my mom’s voice.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“Oh, Kat, I wish I had more information.”

“Tell me everything you know.”

The report, repeated three times, was that yesterday — Monday — at noon, two dogsled teams had departed from camp for a remote field station in order to collect ice samples. Jack and Brigid had been on one sled, and two scientists based at the station had been on the other. A storm had blown up. The scientists had made it back to the base camp; Jack and Brigid had not.

“The good news,” my mom said, “is that Brigid, though she may have become disoriented with the whiteout conditions, is familiar with the area.”

“So there’s still hope?” I asked. “They’re still out there looking?”

“Of course. There’s even a military patrol that’s been called in to assist with the search and rescue.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” There was something. She had skipped a sentence. It was like a bad dub job when an R movie got cleaned up for TV.

“The dogs. They should know their way home. They’re trained to return. It’s partly why they’re the preferred mode of transportation; their sensory tracking system is better than GPS. Usually.”

“What else?” I asked.

I heard my mom draw in a long breath. “Brigid, before leaving on what everyone assumed was just routine data collection, packed up. She loaded the sled with all her things.”

“What?” My brain heard the words, but I was still processing the information.

“It’s such a mystery to everyone. From their location, there’d be nowhere to go. They had headed due north, where the terrain only gets more remote and more rugged. It’s completely baffling.”

I was quiet for a long time; too long — my mom sensed my mood.

“Kat,” she said, “don’t lose hope. They’re still searching for them. Just because it’s odd doesn’t mean there won’t be a good explanation later, when they’re found.”

“OK,” I said with a catch in my voice. “What can I do?”

“There’s nothing any of us can do. Those who are in a position to help are doing it. The rest of us just have to wait, and have faith.”

The faith part would be hard, but I’d try. The wait part, that felt wrong already.

“You promise to call me the minute you have any more news?”

“Of course, honey,” my mom said.

Before hanging up, I asked my mom how she was feeling. She said fine, but I could hear how tired and weak she sounded. If there were developments with her condition, she wouldn’t tell me — not now, anyway.

Aware of the others looking at me and of the way silence had elbowed its way into the room, I walked to the couch and plopped down. Adrift in thought, I nervously fingered my new necklace, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. With each back-and-forth pivot, the stone revealed a different facet, as if changing from a shard of glass to a ragged puzzle piece to a mirror fragment. I thought about Stanley’s research attracting Brigid’s attention. Her interest in Jack. His inclusion, as a high-school student, on the research team. His growing distraction and coldness to me, which started the very night of her arrival. Now both of them were missing. If I could deliver souls and Jack could manipulate the weather, what else was possible? Hulda had told me of the other realms, one of which was Niflheim: the land of snow and ice. As far as conclusions went, the one I was jumping to was nuts. The kind of crazy that came with a white jacket. Still, I remembered what the rune reader had said. I had a journey ahead of me. But where, exactly? And how? And what would I tell Afi and my mom? These questions battered me like a twisted ram’s horn.

“I need to be alone for a little while,” I said, already standing and moving toward the hallway. “I’m tired and need to lie down.”

I wasn’t tired, and the last thing I could think about at a time like this was sleep. But I did need peace and quiet to plan. Though I had no idea where I was going, how I’d get there, or what on earth awaited me. All I knew was that I had to find Jack. I’d go to any length — to the end of the earth, if necessary.