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GERDA AND I WAIT ON the top landing until Kai, taking the final set of steps two at a time, joins us and unlocks his door.
It opens onto a large space under the eaves, filled with a minimum of furniture and a surplus of books. A narrow bed with an iron rail headboard faces the dusty skylights stretching from the roof halfway down the wood slat walls. Sheets of paper are pinned to the opposite wall, and blanket the large desk that dominates the center of the room. The papers are covered in equations written in black ink and pencil. In one corner of the room, calculations scribbled in white chalk decorate the dark surface of a large slate board.
“Sorry for the mess.” Kai scoops piles of paper from the room’s two chairs. “I’ve been working on a few equations ... ”
Gerda smiles indulgently as she settles into one of the chairs. “I know you, Kai. I would have been surprised to see anything else.”
He offers an answering grin. “Well, I’ve been trying to write a paper. I want it to be published. It’s difficult to make your name when you are still a student, but I hope I can manage it. It would help my future prospects.”
“Speaking of the future.” Gerda primly arranges her hands in her lap. “Not long ago I heard something peculiar.”
Here it comes. I sit in the other hard-backed chair as Kai perches on the edge of the wooden desk.
“Oh, what was that?” Kai lowers his eyelids, shadowing his eyes.
“Well, you know Thyra and I have been exchanging letters.”
“Hmmmm.” Kai picks up the nub of a pencil and rolls it between his fingers.
“She told me something recently, about the blizzard that hurt your father.”
Kai stares at his hands. “That killed him.”
“Yes, eventually. Anyway, she confessed she could have saved him, and did not. She didn’t want him to come to harm, of course, although that did happen.” Gerda tips her head to the side, studying Kai’s busy fingers. “She’s sorry about it now.”
“She left him there.”
When Kai looks up, I stifle a gasp at the pain reflected in his eyes.
Gerda scoots forward until she’s sitting on the edge of her chair. “Yes, and she had her reasons at the time, but now deeply regrets her actions.”
Kai meets Gerda’s implacable gaze without blinking. “She also lied to me.”
“It was a lie of omission.”
“Still, it was a lie, and not the first one she told me.” Kai sweeps a pile of papers from the desktop with one hand. They flutter to the plank floor like snowflakes drifting to hard ground.
“So she confessed all this to you as well?” Gerda’s eyes are innocent as bluebells.
I lean against the hard rails of my ladder-back chair, knowing I should remain silent. This is Gerda’s battle. Only she has the weapons to fight it.
“Yes, in a letter. It was probably similar to the one you received.”
“How did you reply?”
Kai leaps off the desk and circles our chairs. “I didn’t.”
“That seems unnecessarily cruel.”
“Why do you care?” Kai stops in front of Gerda and grips the arms of her chair with both hands. “I thought this might please you. My break with Thyra gives you a chance again, right?”
“I only want what’s best for my friends. Besides, you know I don’t feel that way about you anymore.” Gerda reaches up and taps his lips with two fingers. “You do know that, I hope?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to check a smile. Well played, Gerda. Well played.
Kai releases his grip on the chair and jumps back. “Of course.”
“It seems you could make some allowances. You know why Thyra was so focused on her survival, and how she has changed. I understand your anger at this revelation, but now, after you’ve had time to consider everything ... ”
Kai stalks to the windows and stares at the rooftops of the city. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can move forward, even if I forgive her. It seems she is only capable of thinking of herself. I’m not sure I can live with someone like that.”
“Kai.” Gerda’s voice is sharp as a well-honed blade. She rises to her feet and crosses to him. “Perhaps you should look to your own house before you burn down another.”
He turns, his face a study in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Gerda sweeps her hand through the air, taking in the slate board and the sheets of equations papering the walls. “This is your obsession, Kai. It’s the thing you chose above all else. It may be a noble endeavor, and I do not begrudge your pursuit of your dreams. Still, you must admit your own selfish streak.”
When Kai protests, Gerda takes hold of his hands and shushes him into silence. “You left us, my friend—your mother, my mother, my sisters, and me. You abandoned us to follow your own dreams. You forced us to manage the mill—the very thing that keeps you, as well as us, fed and clothed. Oh, I don’t think you are wrong. This is what you were born to do. I simply believe you should think carefully before you claim someone else is focused only on themselves.”
Kai studies her face for a moment before drawing her into a tight embrace. “Thank you.” He brushes her hair with his lips. “I needed to hear that.”
Gerda pulls back and swats him on the arm. “Yes, you did.” She steps away and gazes toward the door. Her eyes widen. “You do still love Thyra?”
I follow her gaze and throw my hand over my mouth.
Kai presses his palms against his temples as he stares out the window. “Of course. That’s what makes this such torture. Even though my mind says I am traitor to my family, my heart will not listen. I still love Thyra. I always will.”
“Well, that is something, I suppose,” says a cool voice.
Kai spins on his heel to face the open doorway.
Thyra steps into the room, closing the door behind her. She pushes back the hood of her green cloak, allowing her pale hair to spring free and halo her face. Her crystalline gaze sweeps over the room, finally coming to rest on the slate board.
“Interesting.” She crosses the room without looking at Kai and studies the board for a moment before wiping away a small section of the equation with her fingers. She picks up the chalk and scribbles a new set of numbers. “This might work better, though. What do you think?” She turns to Kai, still holding the bit of chalk aloft.
He stares at her with a look that makes me suck in a swift breath. “What are you doing here, Thyra?”
“I am sorry, Kai. I would’ve stayed away if I could.” Thyra drops the piece of chalk into the gutter of the slate board. “You see, I’ve been living with a woman, a fine mathematician, who is quite wealthy. I would have explained how she took me in and mentored me, but since I’ve not received any recent letters from you I thought it best to respect your silence. Anyway, this lady entertains a wide variety of people, including those who support the Emperor invading our lands.” Thyra twists a loose curl of her white hair about one finger. “I attended her parties and heard talk. It wasn’t difficult. These people took no notice of me—simply dismissed me as some unfortunate waif my mentor had taken in out of charity.” Thyra casts me a look conveying her opinion of such behavior. “At any rate, at one of these parties I overhead discussion of a mighty weapon the enemy hopes to us against us, and the sorcerer who swears he can find and deploy it. The weapon is the mirror. The sorcerer is ... ”
“Sten Rask.” Gerda moves close to my chair and clutches my hand.
“Yes. A man known for his ambition and power. Also the student of a respected and feared sorceress.” Thyra turns her gaze on Kai. “That’s why I returned—to ensure Gerda’s safety, and warn you about the mirror.”
Kai clenches and unclenches his fingers as she crosses the room to stand before him. His entire body appears to vibrate, despite its unnatural stillness.
“I will go away again, once I know you are both safe.” Thyra strokes his rigid face with her fingers. “My feelings for you have not changed, Kai Thorsen. I will leave if that is what you truly desire, but I too, will always honor our love.”
Kai’s hands shoot out, gripping her wrists. He pulls her to him and kisses her.
When their lips meet, she yanks her wrists from his grasp and throws her arms around his neck.
That kiss—like a drowning man breaking the waves and finding air. Like a soldier, returning from battle, sighting home.
Heat rises in my own face and I look away, while Gerda studies a page of calculations as if she actually understands such things.
“No, I cannot do this.” Kai’s anguished voice breaks the silence.
I turn to the couple silhouetted at the window. Kai has pushed Thyra aside and stands facing Gerda and me. Even across the room, I spy the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
Thyra smooths down the bodice of her plain dove-gray gown and lifts her chin. She turns from Kai, her face an unreadable mask.
Behind them, the sky darkens, as if thunderclouds have rolled in over the span of a few minutes.
I leap to my feet. “It’s a fire.”
Thyra looks out, pressing her palms against the dirty window panes. “Yes, something is going up in flames. What is that?”
Kai peers through the streaked glass. “My God, the Opera House!”
These words galvanize Gerda. She heads for the door, almost fleeing the room before Kai blocks her exit.
“You can’t run into a fire.”
Thyra appears at his elbow. “Is Anders there?”
“Anders definitely, and probably Erik,” I say, joining the group at the door.
Thyra stands near Kai—so close, yet their bodies do not touch. “Our concerns can wait. These two young men are friends of Gerda and Varna. They’re also brave soldiers we must help.” Thyra spreads wide her hands. “If there is anything we can do ... ”
“Very well.” Kai focuses on Gerda’s stricken face. “We will go.”
“Now.” Gerda pushes past Kai and heads for the stairs.
It is all Kai can do to close and lock the door behind us before Gerda reaches the street.
