Chapter Five

THOUGH ANDERS HAD FALLEN ASLEEP FEELING confident about their plan, the next morning he had to admit that he didn’t have any real idea about how they were going to find the Drekhelm mirror. As they got ready for school, he and Lisabet talked through their options.

“If we’re going to use the mirror to spy on the wolves,” he said, “we need to be careful who we tell about it. If the Dragonmeet uses it, they could find out something that would help them attack Ulfar. We want to keep us and Rayna safe, but we don’t want to make things worse than they already are.”

“Agreed,” replied Lisabet. “It would be helpful if we could let Theo in on it, because he knows where all the records are. And he’s come so recently from Holbard, I don’t think he’d help the dragons attack it. His family is there. But Mikkel’s his best friend already, and they’re roomies, so we can’t count on him not to tell Mikkel.”

“And Mikkel’s completely for the dragons,” Anders replied. “I’m not sure about Rayna either. She’s a dragon, so she’s in danger from the Snowstone. And the wolves tried to kill her when she transformed. She has every reason to take anything we learn and use it against them. And she might tell Ellukka.”

“So it’s up to us,” Lisabet said with a sigh. “We’ll have to try and get into the archives.”

But it turned out that was easier said than done too. They got out of class simply enough that morning, telling a distracted Leif they were having trouble concentrating and wanted to find a quiet place to read. They took books with them and headed straight for the archive caverns Theo had shown Anders, following the twisting and turning passages inside the mountain by memory.

When they made their way through the final door, they found none other than Valerius standing outside the main entrance to the storage rooms, talking to two other dragons. Anders and Lisabet ducked back inside the passageway and stood in the shadows, waiting to see whether the adults would leave or go inside.

But while Valerius departed after a few final words to the others, the other two took up a stance that Anders and Lisabet recognized from seeing it thousands of times over back in Holbard, wherever the Wolf Guard went. The pair were standing watch, and they were in no mood for any trouble. Which meant that unauthorized wolf children had absolutely no chance of getting inside.

“Perhaps there’ll be something in the books Theo has in the classroom,” Anders suggested, not very hopefully, as they made their way back in defeat.

“Worth a try,” Lisabet replied.

But as soon as they came back to the classroom, Leif looked up, his gaze lighting on the pair of them. “Anders,” he said, rising from his seat. “Come with me, I want to talk to you. Rayna, you too.”

Lisabet headed silently for the long tables, and Anders knew she’d see if Theo had anything in his books. For his part, he followed Leif out of the classroom, suppressing a sudden shiver of nerves. What did the Drekleid want? Had the dragons changed their minds about letting the two wolves stay? But in that case, it would be Lisabet by his side to hear the news, not Rayna. Wouldn’t it?

Leif led them down the hallway and opened a stout door with his own name on it, engraved on a silver nameplate in curling script. Inside was a cozy office that in many ways reminded Anders of Hayn’s workshop at Ulfar. It was crammed top to bottom with shelves down the left-hand side, and they were stuffed with books, artifacts, a few plants with green leaves trailing down the piles below, a teapot, a bag of apples, and what looked like a forgotten loaf of bread down near the floor. Down the right-hand side ran Leif’s desk, equally crowded with his belongings. On the floor was a thick red rug to keep the cold of the stone away. At the other end of the narrow room was a floor-to-ceiling window like the one in the classroom, looking out toward the Icespire Mountains to the west. That was one way Hayn’s workshop was different—it didn’t have any windows, a fact that had forced Anders and Lisabet to pick the lock and break in only a few weeks before.

“Please, take a seat,” Leif said, sinking down into his large, comfortable chair, and pulling two smaller stools out from where they were tucked in underneath the desk. Anders carefully removed a tiny mechanical model of a cow from one and sat down.

Leif took down a small, embroidered purse from the shelf, using a handkerchief so it wouldn’t touch his skin. The fabric of the purse was red, and it was shot through with silver threads, which matched the silver clasp at the top. “This is an artifact,” Leif said, “which after some considerable searching, I have managed to retrieve from our archives.”

Anders was dying to hear what the purse had to do with Rayna and him, but he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to find out how Leif had managed to locate anything, let alone the thing he wanted, in the archive caverns.

“Theo showed me around in there,” he said, making his eyes wide. “It looks like everything’s all just piled up, one thing on top of another. How do you find what you want?”

“You probably shouldn’t go into the archives,” Leif said absently. “There are too many dragons still unhappy about your presence. Still, I suppose nobody told you not to yet. They certainly are disorganized, we need young Theo’s work very badly. As for how I found it, there was a fair bit of undignified crawling around, but I also know that artifacts that served similar purposes used to be stored together at Old Drekhelm, and when they were picked up and carried here, they tended to stay together. So one might not know where exactly something is, but looking for things like it makes it easier to spot the group, and then it’s just a matter of getting dusty.”

Anders nodded, wondering if the mirror would be stored with other mirrors or other communication devices.

Leif shook his head. “My, but I get sidetracked by questions easily,” he admitted.

“It’s the dragon way,” Rayna said, with an impressively straight face.

“True enough,” he agreed. “Anyway, this artifact is going to serve a very useful purpose for us. It’s a coin purse designed so that only members of the same family can open it. Now that we’ve found it, this is a very simple way for us to test whether you’re related. We’ll set it to recognize one of you, and if the other can open it, then you’re family.”

An unexpected shiver of pure apprehension went through Anders. On one hand, he was positive that he and Rayna were twins. He couldn’t doubt that, not in his heart. He’d given up everything to be with Rayna, and it was worth it a hundred times over. On the other hand, that selfsame heart was thumping wildly at the prospect of this test, so hard he could feel it all over his body.

After everything they’d been through, the risk that Leif might tell him Rayna somehow wasn’t his sister—might try to deny or take away that connection—made his mouth dry and his breath shake as he drew it in.

Rayna reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing tight, and he knew without even looking at her that she was as nervous as he was, even if she’d try and bluster her way out of it.

He found himself speaking before he quite knew what he was going to say.

“Leif.” His voice was surprisingly steady, given he was pretty sure the rest of him was shaking. “We’re family anyway. No matter what the purse says. Rayna will always be my sister.”

“Yes,” Rayna said, uncharacteristically brief, her voice a little rough, her hand squeezing hard. “No matter what, Leif.”

The Drekleid inclined his head respectfully. “Of course,” he agreed. “If you’re prepared to try the artifact, I think it would be helpful for us to know whether you are sister and brother by blood, or simply by connection of the heart.”

Anders looked across at Rayna, seeing his own doubt mirrored in her eyes.

“I think we should,” she said eventually. “We both want to know who we are. What we are. And I hate that I can’t make a spark, let alone a flame. If we know we’re blood related, perhaps that means I can make icefire. Two’s better than one, right?” Her smile was weak.

“Two’s always better than one,” he told her firmly, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about icefire.

“Okay,” she said to Leif, letting go of Anders’s hand. “Let’s try this purse, then.”

Leif nodded. “I’ve released the previous bindings on the purse, which wasn’t easy—I had to find a member of the family it used to belong to and get her to release it. It was the granddaughter, and she’s living over in Port Alcher now. Quite a flight. She doesn’t transform, but she has an inkling her grandmother did. Anyway, she—the granddaughter, I mean—runs a pie shop, and I had to buy a dozen pies before she made time for me.” He paused, reflective. “They were delicious, though. And at any rate, now the purse is unattached, waiting for its new owner. It will bond to the next person who touches it. That’s why I’m holding it with a handkerchief. Anders, would you do the honors? It will require just the smallest drop of your blood. Artifacts linked to family often do, among others. The blood of the most powerful wolves and dragons can achieve a great deal.”

Anders took the purse from Leif’s hand, cradling it in the palm of his own. He accepted a needle and pricked his fingertip, and with a quick sting a tiny drop of blood welled up, crimson against his brown skin. He pressed it to the silver of the clasp and his hand tingled briefly—a tickling, bubbly sensation that swept quickly up his arm and through his body in a wave. The purse itself seemed to glow for an instant, and then it looked normal once more.

“Done,” said Leif. “Now, Rayna, if you would be so kind as to take the purse and attempt to open it, we’ll have our answer. If it doesn’t recognize you, it will scream an alarm. If it opens, that’s all we need to see.”

Rayna took a deep breath, and took the purse from Anders’s hand, just as he’d taken it from Leif’s a minute before. “Here goes,” she said, and Anders knew she was trying to sound like her usual brave self, despite the tremor in her voice. She put her fingers to the little silver clasp on the purse and took a deep breath.

Then her fingers pressed against it.

It popped open, like it was waiting expectantly for someone to drop coins inside.

All three of them stared down at it, and then Rayna began to laugh in sheer relief. Anders’s face stretched to a grin, and he threw both his arms around her, hugging her tight.

“Can you imagine?” she said. “If someone had come in, and we were all just sitting here, staring at the purse like it was going to start singing and dancing?” She was giggling, and Anders couldn’t help but join in. Even Leif smiled, breathing out slowly as the tension dissipated. “Can I keep the purse?” Rayna asked.

“Yes,” said Leif, still smiling. “Sparks and scales, you can keep the purse.”

Anders had worried about the answer to the question of who he was, of what he was—ever since the moment of their transformation—but he hadn’t realized just how much of an effect it was having on him until now. He felt so much lighter, he could have floated up to the ceiling.

“You may be the first confirmed elementals of mixed blood in Vallen,” Leif told them, his voice quiet, thoughtful. “I mean, plenty of people have traces of wolf and dragon ancestry, and I suspect some transformed wolves and dragons even have traces of the other in their heritage. But there have only ever been stories about what might happen if two actual elementals—two people capable of transformation themselves—had a child. In you, we may have evidence that it’s possible. We may have evidence that the old stories, which say that elementals of mixed blood have special powers, are true. This must be the reason for your icefire, Anders. And Rayna, it means you probably have a gift as well.”

“There was an old story about a dragonsmith with special powers, wasn’t there?” Anders asked, remembering Hayn’s grim expression the day he’d told Anders and Lisabet about the dragon who’d killed his brother.

“That’s right,” Leif said, his smile dropping away. “Drifa, her name was. We attended the Finskól together as children. She grew up to be the greatest dragonsmith of our age. She was clever, inventive, creative, and daring, and the whispered rumor was that her father was a thunder lion from Mositala. They are elementals who control the wind and air. If she knew the truth about her parentage, she never told us, but the story was that her thunder lion heritage allowed her to control the winds around her forge and infuse them with essence. Then, when she worked with her own magical flame, she created truly incredible artifacts.”

“That sounds amazing,” Rayna breathed. “Why do you look so serious?”

Leif shook his head. “She died far too young. The wolves claimed she murdered one of their own, and afterward, nobody could find her. We searched as best we could, but we have no idea where she went, or whether she died too that day. It’s been so long now that I’m sure she must be dead. Things were difficult between dragons and wolves before the day they say she killed a wolf, but afterward, they were impossible. The wolves refused to trust us, and their demands became more and more unreasonable, until eventually, they tried to keep dragons prisoner in the city of Holbard itself, to ensure we worked on the artifacts they needed. It was that wolf’s death, and Drifa’s disappearance, that led to the last great battle.”

Both Anders and Rayna were silent, eyes wide. Anders knew this wasn’t the story that was told about the battle in Holbard. He’d always heard that the dragons had attacked unprovoked, and the wolves had defended the city. But if the wolves had been holding dragons prisoner, that was a whole other story. Then again, if a dragon had killed a wolf . . . He didn’t know what to make of it.

One thing he did know for sure, though, was that both sides would suffer if there was another battle. “Leif,” he said, “has the Dragonmeet made any progress in deciding what to do about the Snowstone?”

The Drekleid shook his head slowly, regret in every line of his face. “We have been talking all week, and we remain deadlocked. Perhaps there is too much anger among the leadership on both sides of this fight.”

“Then what will happen?” Rayna asked in a small voice. “War, again?”

“I hope not,” Leif said gravely. “Perhaps . . .” He paused, then continued, looking directly at Anders. “Perhaps we need to come up with a new kind of solution. Perhaps someone will see a creative way out of this situation.”

Anders felt quite sure in that moment that Leif meant him to listen carefully to those words. That Leif meant him to think about finding a way out of this.

On one hand, the task felt almost overwhelmingly large.

On the other, he wasn’t the same boy who’d fled his own first transformation in terror. He’d found his way into Ulfar, to Fylkir’s chalice, to Drekhelm itself. And now he was finding a way to get by, even to make a home at Drekhelm. Who knew what else he could do when those he loved were at risk?

As the three of them walked back to the classroom, Anders knew he had to tell Rayna about the mirror. He’d worried about whose side she might take in the wolf-dragon divide, but now she knew that she herself was born of both, things had to be different. They’d always worked together to solve problems in the past, and this one was going to need all the brains they could muster.

When they were back with the others, he quietly told Lisabet what had transpired in the Drekleid’s office. He could see Rayna whispering the story to Ellukka as well. Lisabet’s eyes went huge at the news.

“Pack and paws,” she murmured. “You’re . . . You two are a completely new kind of elemental, Anders. That’s incredible.”

“There’s more,” he said, leaning in close. He told her what else Leif had said—about the way the dragon had looked directly at him, as good as telling him to use his creativity to avert an all-out war, while the adults were tied up in endless, deadlocked discussions. “We have to tell Rayna,” he finished, and Lisabet nodded.

“The others too,” she said. “Ellukka goes where Rayna goes, and we’re going to need Mikkel’s and Theo’s help. We have to trust them. If the Dragonmeet is no closer to a solution, and we’ve seen what my mo—what Sigrid can do with the Snowstone, then this is urgent.”

After dinner that night, Anders and Lisabet discreetly gathered up their friends and brought them back to their room. The dragons were all curious, but they came quietly, piling into the little guest room the wolves had made their own. Anders, Lisabet, and Theo sat on Anders’s bed, and Rayna, Ellukka, and Mikkel took up Lisabet’s.

“Well?” said Ellukka. “What’s the big secret?”

Anders told them about his trip with Theo to the artifact storage caverns, and Theo joined in a little, confirming what Anders was saying, though he clearly didn’t know why it was so important that they share this information right at this moment.

Then Lisabet took over from Theo, and together the wolves told the dragons about Hayn, and about the mirror they’d seen in his office—about their theory that perhaps the dragons’ counterpart wasn’t broken—especially since the symbol beside it in the book said otherwise—but instead simply locked up somewhere dark and quiet.

And finally, Anders told them what Leif had said in his office that day—that to search for one artifact at Drekhelm, you looked for others like it, which at least gave them something of a hint as to how to narrow their search. And more important, that Leif had as good as told him to take action.

“What exactly does Leif want us to do?” Rayna asked, thoughtful. “What can we do?”

“We’re twelve,” Mikkel said, pale. “How can we be in charge of handling any part of this?”

“I’m thirteen,” said Ellukka, and he elbowed her in the side. “Anyway,” she continued, “we’re Finskól students. We’re there because we’re all good at something special.”

Anders nodded. “And if we do nothing, it’s just going to get colder and colder. The Dragonmeet’s talking forever and getting nothing done. We should try and find out what the wolves have planned.”

“I agree,” said Rayna. “We have to try and find the mirror, see what we can find out from watching this Hayn.”

“Then do what?” Theo asked. “If we tell anyone where we got that information, we’ll get in trouble for using an artifact like that without permission. Assuming they even believe us. And if they think we revealed to the wolves that the mirrors still work . . .”

“Then do whatever we can think of,” Anders said, “to try and stop them using the Snowstone. To keep things the way they are, so the wolves can’t attack.”

Until now, it had been a matter of keeping himself, Rayna, and Lisabet safe. But now, looking around the room, he was realizing he had more to fight for than that. He needed to broaden his vision—he had friends on the wolf side and on the dragon side who would suffer if there was another battle.

“I think we should vote,” said Lisabet. “It’s a big risk for all of us. Anders and I could be thrown out of Drekhelm if we’re caught using an artifact like that without permission, or risking the wolves using their mirror in return. Perhaps the rest of you could too, I don’t know, if we got caught going behind the Dragonmeet’s backs. Everyone needs to be in on this.”

“Agreed,” said Anders, his throat tight with nerves. What would they do if one of them didn’t want to join in but already knew their plans? “Hands up, all who think we should try and find the mirror.”

He raised his own hand, and beside him, Lisabet raised hers as well. Rayna did at the same time, backing him without hesitation.

Ellukka looked sideways at Rayna, and then raised her own hand, and with a soft, worried sound, Theo raised his.

Mikkel looked around at them all, biting his lip, considering.

“I think they really would throw us out,” he said quietly. “Out of the Finskól for sure. Leif couldn’t defend us. We might be exiled from every dragon community in Vallen, if they think we’ve shown the wolves a way to spy on us, or they think we were trying to talk to them.”

Anders nodded slowly. “That could all happen,” he admitted. “But if we do nothing . . .”

Mikkel held still for an agonizingly long moment. And then, finally, he raised his hand too.

“All right,” said Rayna quietly, much more serious than usual. “Good. Should we go hunt for it?”

“What, right now?” Mikkel asked.

“Why wait?”

“It’s not that easy,” Anders replied. “There are guards outside the storage rooms, and Valerius already caught me in there once.”

All eyes turned to Ellukka, who raised both her hands defensively. “Sparks and scales, don’t look at me,” she said. “You think I can get my father to do what I want? Try being raised by him, he’s strict!”

“I can see how he really crushed your spirit,” Lisabet replied dryly, and Rayna giggled, breaking the tension that had gathered around them.

Remembering Rayna’s mistrust of Lisabet the day they’d arrived, Anders could scarcely believe they’d come so far in just a week. But then again, Rayna was quick and clever, and if she’d been watching Lisabet, she’d have seen the other girl was the same, and a friend worth having.

They talked for a while about the best way to sneak past the guards, and in the end, they decided that an old-fashioned diversion was their best hope.

“It’ll have to be me,” Ellukka said, with a resigned huff. “My father’s their boss, they’ll come running to see what’s up with me, and that’ll give you a chance to get inside. If they’re back at their posts by the time you need to leave, we might need to get creative, but there’s no way of predicting how long you’ll need to hunt, so there’s not much use in planning how to get you out.”

“And nighttime is best,” said Theo, who spent more time than anyone in the storage caverns. “During the day there’s often someone looking for something or working with the books. Like Rayna said, there’s no reason to wait, and this is the best chance to avoid running into anyone.”

“I think I know what Ellukka can do,” Rayna said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Anders and Lisabet, you’ve seen one of these mirrors, so you’ll have to look for it, and you’ll need Theo to help you search. If I can have Ellukka and Mikkel, I can . . . Anders, do you remember that time at the fish market?”

Anders’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” he said, lifting one hand to cover his mouth.

“Oh yes,” said Rayna, grinning.

Half an hour later, Anders crouched in the shadows with Theo and Lisabet, watching the two guards standing outside the artifact storage caverns. Ellukka had wandered by a few minutes earlier to ask the two men a question, and while they were distracted with that, Rayna and Mikkel had silently crept along one of the tunnels approaching the guards. There, they’d carefully turned the dials that controlled the nearest wall lamps, dimming them to almost nothing.

That made a dark spot where Anders and his two companions could hide, giving them a clear view of the guards, so they could creep past them as soon as the watchful dragons left their posts. The students were only about thirty feet away, and they could make the run in a few heartbeats once Rayna gave them the chance.

And Anders was very certain Rayna was going to give them the chance. The fish market fiasco had been one of her finest hours, a chaotic plot that had fed half the street children of Holbard for a week. It had been one of the only times they’d teamed up with others, and Rayna had been fearsome in command.

“What’s she going to do?” Theo whispered, sounding a tiny bit worried.

“You’ll see in a minute,” Anders promised. “Just don’t worry if you hear any screaming.”

“Screaming?” Lisabet echoed, shifting beside him, and he put his hand on her arm to stop her from standing up.

And then it began.

There was a faint scuffling noise up the wide passageway to the left of the guards, which descended toward the right on a gentle slope. You barely even noticed the angle when you were walking, but for Rayna’s present purposes, it was perfect.

The scuffling stopped, and then a loud, banging, scraping noise began, the sound of wood thumping against rock, and Ellukka started screaming, the sound somehow both muffled and echoing all at once.

“What the—” Lisabet began, but she got no further.

A barrel went rolling by the guards at top speed, Ellukka’s blond braids whipping wildly at one end—she was wedged tightly inside, turning over and over as the barrel flew along the hallway down the slope.

A second later Mikkel started yelling, and his barrel flew down in hot pursuit, with Rayna bringing up the rear, waving her hands in the air gleefully. “Barrel race!” she shouted to the startled guards, who stared, then took off after her at a run.

“Quick,” said Anders, springing up like he was starting his own race and sprinting down the hallway to the cavern doors. He hauled them open, hurrying inside, with Lisabet and Theo right behind him.

“Barrel races?” Theo said, pushing the doors shut. “Seriously?”

The first time Rayna had tried this, Anders had been inside one of the barrels, Rayna in the other, and they’d gone straight through the middle of Holbard’s busy fish market. Fish had gone flying in every direction, and by the time the angry stallholders had retrieved the twins and heard Rayna’s dramatic, tearful version of their story—that older children had forced them into the barrels, that she’d been afraid for her life, that oh, her poor, weak brother might have died of fright!—the rest of Holbard’s street children had made off with as much fish as they could carry.

Anders had still been dizzy when they’d met up later to collect their share of the spoils, but he had to admit they’d eaten very well that week. And their cat, Kess, had been amazed, her eyes going so round he thought she’d forgotten how to blink.

He hadn’t seen Kess since shortly after his transformation, and he hoped desperately that she’d found someone else to sleep next to, and a safe place to be. He wished he could find her, but she’d run from him, smelling the wolf on him even in human form.

For now, he had other problems to solve. “This way to the mirrors,” Theo said, hurrying along a jumbled pathway that had been cleared through the piles of old artifacts, and just plain junk. Outside, Rayna was probably giving a speech about the amazing benefits of barrel racing by now, and more than likely halfway to convincing the horrified guards that the dragons should take it up as a winter sport.

“I’ve seen mirrors before,” Theo told him, pausing by a desk to pick up an artifact lantern, which was glowing dimly. He turned a knob to bring the light up to full strength, and then handed two more to Anders and Lisabet. “First place to check is whether it’s with those.”

They made their way through two more caverns, where stacks of books and crates, spindly-armed artifacts and piles of spare parts cast long, eerie shadows, the rooms growing dustier each time they made their way through a new doorway.

The third cavern they passed through held a huge wall of hammers—small and shiny, big, blunt, and black, they were hanging on hooks set into the rock. In the middle of the room stood a collection of anvils of all sizes. Anders had seen an anvil before, at a blacksmith’s in Holbard, but there were dozens here.

“They must have belonged to the dragonsmiths,” Lisabet whispered.

“No use for them anymore,” Theo said, leading them onward.

No use now, Anders thought. But once there was.

When they came through the next doorway, Anders pulled up short—his lantern was reflected back at him in dozens of different mirrors, each showing a shadowed picture of a frightened boy, the glow of the lantern making his brown face pale yellow.

“Let’s split up and search the room,” Lisabet said. “It’s not that big, we should be able to see one another, or at least hear if somebody calls out.”

None of them were particularly enthusiastic about being on their own, but the urgency of their task pushed them on, and they parted ways, climbing through the piles of junk and stacks of files, checking the frame of each mirror, looking for the pack of wolves running down one side of it, the dragons snaking their way down the other.

But though Theo called Anders or Lisabet over a couple of times to check mirrors he’d found, and after a while they began to hunt in places the others had already been, they had no luck. “It has to be here,” Anders said, desperate. “We have to find a way to see what’s happening at Ulfar somehow.”

“Perhaps it’s hidden somewhere else?” Lisabet asked, not sounding very hopeful.

Anders closed his eyes, picturing the mirror he’d seen back in Hayn’s workshop. “It . . . it has to be somewhere dark. Otherwise, Hayn would have seen or heard someone in it by now if it’s working. Is there somewhere near here that’s dark and quiet?”

Theo frowned. “Maybe? There are a lot more caverns. I’ve been in most of them, though, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

“What’s this?” asked Lisabet, from behind a stack of mirrors. They hurried around to join her, dozens of reflected lanterns jangling as the real ones swung back and forth in the boys’ hands. Lisabet was looking at a heavy wooden doorway, sealed tightly shut in the stone.

“It could be somewhere dark and quiet,” Anders said. Hoping against hope it wasn’t just another room, he tugged on the handle, then leaned back, putting his whole weight on it. Slowly, the door started to open. He pressed one eye to the crack, and gasped.

He could barely make out the frame of the mirror on the other side of the door, set in the middle of a tiny room, but he could clearly see what was reflected in it.

Hayn’s workshop.

The shelves crammed full of unrepaired artifacts, the desk full of Skraboks, the strings of lights along the walls—they were all there. And then Hayn walked into view, straight across the mirror’s line of sight, disappearing on the other side. It was impossible to mistake him—he was a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark-brown skin, a black beard, and black, square-rimmed glasses, standing at least half a head above almost everyone at Ulfar.

Anders hurriedly shut the door, blinking at the other two. “We found it,” he whispered. “He’s right there.”

Lisabet made an excited little squeak, and Theo jumped up and down on the spot.

“Let’s put the lanterns out,” Anders suggested. “If we close the door behind us quickly and sit in the dark, and if we keep quiet, there’s no reason he’ll even know we’re there.”

They turned all their lanterns down until their glows became faint, and then extinguished, and slowly, carefully, Anders opened the door. One by one they slipped inside, and Theo pulled the door closed after them. There wasn’t much space in the tiny room, and the three of them had to bunch up together. They crouched on the floor in silence, watching the workshop and waiting to see if Hayn would appear again, or if he had company.

It was only a few minutes before their patience was rewarded. Hayn reappeared, opening one of the huge Skraboks sitting on his desk and slowly turning the pages. He was frowning at what he found there when the sound of the door opening interrupted his concentration. He looked across, almost right at the mirror—because of course, in his workshop, the other mirror stood beside the door.

“Sigrid,” he said, and beside Anders, Lisabet gave a little gasp, then clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle it, though too late.

For an instant, Anders could have sworn Hayn’s gaze flickered toward the mirror. But if it did, then the next instant it was back on the Fyrstulf again.

“Hayn,” she said, her voice grim. Anders, Lisabet, and Theo held perfectly still as the Fyrstulf—Lisabet’s mother—strode into the workshop. “Well?” she said, her back to the mirror, her arms folded. “Any luck?”

“None so far,” Hayn said, glancing down at the book on his desk, then back up at the pale blond woman standing before him. “This is an incredibly delicate procedure, Sigrid. You have to understand it’s going to take time.”

“It worked the other day,” she snapped. “Why can’t you do it again?”

“Because it worked for about an hour, and then the augmenter melted,” he said calmly. “So obviously I can’t use that one again. It was too old, I still can’t believe I got it to work even for a little. I’m scouring the Skraboks for something else I can use, but there’s a reason we haven’t done this in over a decade. There are a lot of risks, Sigrid, and I’m not sure—”

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” she said, her voice crisp. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and I want better news.”

Anders caught a glimpse of her face as she turned to stride for the door—her skin was always very pale, almost the same color as her white-blond hair, and the shadows beneath her eyes stood out like bruises. And then she was gone, the door closing behind her in a slam.

What was an augmenter? Why did Sigrid want it so badly? And why did Hayn sound so hesitant about it?

All was silent for a heartbeat, then two, then three, both in the workshop and in the tiny room where Anders, Lisabet, and Theo were crammed in side by side. Hayn stood staring at the door. And then his gaze turned once more toward the mirror.

This time he walked toward it, approaching until he was almost nose-to-glass, staring at what Anders knew must be a perfectly black surface on his end. Anders held his breath, lest the sound give him away, and the trio of spies were so silent that he was sure Lisabet and Theo must be doing the same on either side of him.

Then Hayn spoke. “Is somebody there?” He was squinting at the dark.

None of the children replied.

“I . . . I can’t see anything,” Hayn said quietly. “But I thought I heard something, just now. If you can hear me, please, I just want to know if our students are all right. Anders and Lisabet are only first years, and whatever they’ve done, they didn’t mean to hurt anyone. They’re good children.”

Anders’s heart was thumping so loudly in his ears he felt sure Hayn must be able to hear it. He stayed silent. He’d never imagined Hayn being anything but furious at what he’d see as Anders’s and Lisabet’s betrayal.

Hayn sighed. “If anyone’s there, please pass on word that I need to speak to Anders. I need to speak to him urgently. I . . .” He paused, and glanced at the door again, before lowering his voice, and continuing in almost a whisper. “I have to tell him something that might be the difference between peace and the next great battle.”

Anders felt like he’d been struck over the head, the shock reverberating through him. Hayn had something to tell him that might be the difference between war and peace?

He’d always liked the big wolf—Hayn had been kind the first day Anders had transformed, and he’d been kind when Anders and Lisabet had come chasing information. But they weren’t exactly friends.

Anders scrambled for the right decision. He should check with the others before he revealed himself, since that had never been part of the plan—they’d only agreed to help him spy. Making contact with the wolves might be more than any of the dragons were willing to do.

But he might not get back in here again, and if he did, there was no guarantee Hayn would be in his office.

He had to take his chance while he had it. And as he reached his decision, Lisabet reached over to squeeze his arm in silence. He hoped that meant you should say something, because he was about to.

“Hayn?” His voice came out as nearly a squeak, and he cleared his throat and tried again. “Hayn, it’s Anders.”

Hayn had been halfway through turning away, but he whirled back, gaze fixed on the mirror. “Anders?” His voice was somewhere between fear and hope. “Are you all right? Who else is there?”

Anders felt movement by his side, and Theo turned the dial on his lantern until it came dimly to life, the essence captured within it powering its soft glow. “Lisabet,” Anders said. “And this is our friend Theo.”

“Hi, Hayn,” said Lisabet quietly, and Theo lifted a hand in greeting.

“Pack and paws, I was so worried you were dead,” Hayn breathed, reaching out to grip either side of the mirror. “Anders, I need to see you as soon as I can. Do you have any way to get to Holbard?”

Anders’s eyes went wide. They were forbidden from leaving Drekhelm, let alone waltzing off to the wolves’ stronghold. “I—I don’t think so,” he said.

“Are you prisoners?”

“Not exactly,” Anders said. “But the wolves don’t want us in Holbard, do they? Sigrid must be so angry.”

“Sigrid’s angry,” Hayn conceded, with an apologetic glance at Lisabet. “But of course she’s worried.”

“Worried enough to forgive us if we came home?” Lisabet pressed.

The answer was in Hayn’s expression, and after a moment he slowly shook his head. “Tell me,” he said quietly. “Did you deliberately try to hurt your classmates? Or Ennar?”

“No!” Anders’s answer came quick, bursting out of him. “We didn’t want to, but they were attacking the dragons. It would have been the start of the next great battle if they’d killed one. We never even meant for them to follow us, Hayn.”

Hayn nodded. “That’s what Ennar and I thought,” he said, to Anders’s surprise. “Though she’s still less forgiving than I am.” He paused, and then pressed on. “Ennar said that you were claiming one of the dragons was your sister, Anders.”

Anders nodded slowly. “She is.”

Hayn didn’t look surprised, which was odd. Just worried. “Anders, I must speak to you,” he said again. “And your sister. Is there any way you can get here? I mean it when I say this might be the only chance to stop a war. It has to be in person. And it has to be soon. Tomorrow, even. One of your classmates stole an important artifact while they were at Drekhelm. It’s called the Snowstone.”

“We know,” Anders said.

Lisabet spoke beside him. “And we know Sigrid will use it to freeze the dragons if she can.”

Hayn nodded slowly. “Yes. But I think I have a way to counter its effects.”

“Why do you want to do that?” Theo asked, finally speaking up. As the only dragon present, he sounded cynical.

“Because I don’t want a battle,” Hayn said. “Everybody will be hurt. And . . . for more personal reasons. Which I’d prefer to give Anders in person.”

Anders exchanged a three-way glance with Lisabet and Theo. He saw the doubt in their eyes, but Lisabet nodded a fraction, and after a moment, so did Theo. He turned back to Hayn. “I’ll try my best,” he said. “Where should we meet you?”

“In the port square,” Hayn said. “In the southeast corner, by the water.” The port square was where the wolves held their monthly Trial of the Staff. It was where Anders and Rayna had first transformed, and it was where Anders had watched helplessly as the wolves battled a deadly white-and-gold dragonsfire that took hold of the buildings all along the waterfront.

The port was also busy and bustling all day long, full of Vallenite buyers and sellers, hawkers and passersby, not to mention the visitors from faraway places, the crews of mercher vessels docked from all over the world.

It was a good place to meet because there was always a crowd to blend into. But the square gave Anders nightmares—memories of smoke and screaming, from that hazy place where all his earliest memories lived. He sometimes thought they might be memories of the last great battle. He had only been two years old when it happened, and he and Rayna had come out of it orphans, their parents unknown and forgotten.

“In the port square,” he agreed. “If we get away after breakfast, and if Rayna can fly that far, we can probably be there by mid-morning.”

“Be careful,” said Hayn. “You might be recognized.”

Anders could hardly imagine anyone in Holbard would ever recognize him, beyond a few of his Ulfar classmates, but he nodded. “We will,” he promised. “If we can get away, we’ll be there.” Getting away would require a lot to go right—the others would have to agree to the meeting, Rayna would have to be able to cover the distance, Leif would have to agree to let them out of class again. But he’d do his best.

“We should go,” said Lisabet. “Nobody knows we’re here.”

Hayn nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his gaze on Anders’s face. “Be careful.”

Getting out of the archives proved to be easier than expected—some ways up the hallway a kerfuffle was still underway, and several adult dragons, including the guards, were lecturing Rayna, Mikkel, and Ellukka about the perils of barrel racing, the irresponsibility of doing it in a hallway where anybody might be walking along, and the expectation that students of the Finskól would know better than to undertake such shenanigans.

Anders, Lisabet, and Theo snuck out of the storage caverns and took off in the opposite direction, hurrying back to Anders and Lisabet’s room to wait for the barrel racers to return. Eventually, they did, their eyes dancing with mirth.

“We should try that again sometime,” Ellukka said, gleeful, as she thumped down onto Lisabet’s bed.

“You would say that, you won,” Mikkel complained. “I was nearly sick.” Even he looked pleased, though.

“Of course you were,” Ellukka replied airily. “You rattled around in your barrel like dice in a cup. I was wedged firmly into mine, so I didn’t move around. Much easier. You shouldn’t be so skinny.”

Mikkel made a grumbling noise, but he climbed onto the bed next to her anyway.

“Well?” said Rayna. “Did you find it?”

“Did we ever,” said Anders.

They told the others everything that had happened, and their eyes grew wider and wider with each new detail.

“So you want to go to Holbard?” Ellukka said, in the end. “Do you know how much trouble we’d be in if the Dragonmeet found out? Or how much danger we’d be in if the wolves did?”

“I know,” Anders agreed. “But if he really does have a way to stop the Snowstone bringing down the temperature, we have to try and find out. Otherwise it’s just a matter of time until the wolves attack.”

“Perhaps we should tell the Dragonmeet,” Mikkel said, though he didn’t sound very convinced.

“And what?” Rayna said, rolling her eyes. “Sit around while they debate it for the next month? This Hayn person said it’s urgent. He said it needs to be tomorrow. We can’t afford to wait. I vote we should go. I’ll fly there, Anders, and take you.”

“I think I should go too,” Lisabet said. “I know more about the wolves’ history than any of us. I’ll know if Hayn’s telling the truth.” Anders glanced across at her, wondering if that was her real reason, or whether she simply wanted to be close to Ulfar, to see her home again, even if she couldn’t return to it. He hadn’t forgotten that they’d just seen her mother in the mirror too.

“If Rayna’s going, I’m going,” said Ellukka promptly. “But Mikkel, Theo, you’ll have to stay here. Somebody has to cover for us. I have a plan that’ll get us out of Drekhelm all right, but if we’re not back by dark, you’ll have to come up with some kind of excuse, or better yet, make sure nobody knows.”

Mikkel and Theo nodded. Neither of them looked as sure about the plan, but Anders could see that neither of them had any other ideas either.

And so it was decided. For better or worse, they’d be going to Holbard in the morning. They’d just have to hope Hayn was true to his word—and that they were flying toward an ally, rather than a trap.