SOFI
With no heartbeat and no need to breathe came no need to sleep, and so I’d left Darja curled in the overstuffed armchair nestled under the window of my room when I fell asleep that night, and found her still there when I awoke early the next morning. I couldn’t imagine that she’d just sat there all night, but I was afraid to ask. I found her presence in my room both disturbing and comforting. On one hand, having her with me made me feel safe, like I wasn’t alone in this mess I’d found myself in, and it was good to have someone to talk to, even if our talking often devolved into arguing. On the other hand, it was profoundly disturbing to consider the fact that she was dead.
Some carefully worded and hopefully casual questions directed at my dad the previous night had revealed that he was keeping Mirtel overnight at his office for observation, so the sun was barely up over the trees when my blaring alarm dragged me out of sleep and into my clothes. I avoided looking at the camera perched on my bedside table as I pulled on a hoodie and hurriedly left the house.
I needed to know that Mirtel was okay after what’d happened at the festival. That and figure out what the hell she’d been thinking. I was all for finding answers, but her outburst was only going to cause more harm than good. Surely she could see that.
Dad’s office was part of Vaikesti’s municipal building, along with the tiny police station, tax offices, library, and post office. I’d been there a million times, but I still nearly made a wrong turn on the way, my mind lost in thoughts of the previous day, before a quick word from Darja brought me back to the present. She’d ridden along with me in the car this time, something I hadn’t been sure she was able to do, and she slanted a glance in my direction as I pulled into a parking space and cut the engine.
“You okay?” she asked, an eyebrow raised as she watched me wipe my sweating palms on my jeans.
“Yeah,” I assured her, dropping my keys into my purse. “It’s just a lot, you know?” I glanced over at her. “Are you sure my dad’s not here?” I wanted to talk to Mirtel, but I didn’t want to involve my dad in any of this. I still didn’t see why we couldn’t wait until they’d sent her home, but Darja had been insistent. I thought about her recent experience with being sedated though, and couldn’t exactly blame her for her concern.
“Yes,” she said. “I told you, I checked before we left. He’s not even up yet. If anyone’s here, it’ll just be the nurse. Let’s go.”
There weren’t many cars in the parking lot this early, but I still scanned our surroundings as we made our way to the entrance. My paranoia was uncalled for, after all there was no reason I couldn’t be here visiting my dad’s office as I had my entire life, but I still felt inexplicably guilty for some reason, and I didn’t want to run into anyone.
The heavy glass doors swung open and silently admitted us into the cold conditioned air of the hallway, a large map and sign on the wall needlessly directing us through to the atrium, a big central space with small hallways extending outward like spokes on a wheel. Across the atrium and down the hallway to the right would take us to my dad’s office.
We had just stepped into the wide open space of the atrium, where a ring of benches angled around some brightly colored planters, when I heard heavy footsteps coming toward me and looked up. There wasn’t enough time to duck back down the corridor or scurry around the far side of the atrium, so instead I took a deep breath and straightened, meeting Stephen’s eyes as he came toward me.
The entrance to the police station was across the atrium to my left, and I realized he must have been held overnight and only just released.
His steps slowed as he approached me, and I hastily sped mine up, praying he wouldn’t try to talk to me. I could see Darja eyeing him curiously though, and I chanced a glance as well.
He looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was mussed and matted, sticking up at odd angles. He walked stiffly and the frames of his glasses appeared to be bent.
“Sofi?”
I froze in my tracks. How did he know my name?
“Sofi.” The call came again before I realized it hadn’t come from Stephen, who had instead picked up his pace and hurried down the hall away from me. I glanced around in confusion for a moment before I registered Jared, still in uniform, leaning out of the door to the police station and beckoning at me.
I crossed to him.
“I’m glad to see you,” he said. “I was actually going to come find you this morning.”
He was? I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or confused.
“Do you have a couple of minutes to talk?” he asked, pushing a hand through his hair.
“Who is that?” Darja’s voice was loud next to me, and it took an effort not to look her way or reply.
After a long pause I realized I hadn’t answered Jared either, and he was staring at me as if unsure whether he should repeat himself.
“Um, sure,” I said quickly, face flaming red. “I was just…” I gestured vaguely toward my dad’s office, then cleared my throat. “I have time though. I can talk.”
“I’m going to see Mirtel,” Darja informed me, making no attempt to keep her voice low. “Hopefully Aggie is with her and I can talk to them. I’ll catch up with you after.”
I nodded at her before I could stop myself, but Jared had already turned away and was holding the door open for me to pass ahead of him.
I glanced back as I went through, but both Stephen and Darja were out of sight. Inside the station, Jared took the lead again, ushering me past the front desk and down a short hallway to a tiny office. I followed, wondering what on earth he wanted to talk to me about.
The plaque on the door read Charles Braden, County Sheriff, and Jared held the door open for me again then closed it quietly behind us. He gestured for me to take a seat in one of the two stiff office chairs before sliding behind his father’s desk to sit in front of the computer there.
When I finally got a look at him up close, I was surprised to see that he didn’t appear to be in much better shape than Stephen. His eyes were also tired-looking, ringed with circles, and his hair and uniform were rumpled. It made him look young, like the shaggy-headed boy I remembered from high school.
“Are you okay?” I asked, gazing at him with concern, and it drew a smile out of him.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” He glanced down at his clothes, then back up at me. “I must look terrible, huh? I didn’t get a chance to sleep last night. It’s good though, actually.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk, his eyes warm as his smile deepened, and lowered his voice confidentially. “I just got assigned my first real case.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t help the answering smile that spread across my face at his look of embarrassed pride. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” he said, his ears turning a little pink as he picked up a pencil from the desk and fiddled with it. “I didn’t expect them to give me something this early. I was up all night reading through the files and taking notes. I really don’t want to mess this up.”
“I’m sure you’ll do a great job,” I said. It was true, I was sure he would, though his insecurity was endearing. I wondered why he’d brought me in though. Surely not just to share this news.
“Did you…am I part of this new case?” I asked, and Jared seemed to refocus, clearing his throat and dragging a hand through his hair again. I remembered the nervous gesture from our time in school together, though his newly-cropped hair didn’t give him much to drag through.
“Oh, right. Uh, not exactly. I just need to ask you a few questions.” He threw a smile my way before adding, “You’re not in trouble or anything. I’m just hoping you can help me out.”
He transferred the pencil to his other hand before opening a notebook on the desk in front of him. Bringing the eraser end of the pencil to his mouth, he rested it against his lips as he appeared to skim down whatever was written in the notebook. My eyes followed the trajectory of the pencil, and I swallowed involuntarily. He really was so handsome.
“Do you know a girl named Darja Kallas?”
All thoughts fled from my head as my eyes flew to his.
Crap.
“What?” I asked, stalling for time. How the hell was I supposed to answer that?
He glanced down at his notes, then back up at me. “Darja Kallas,” he repeated. “Ever heard the name?”
How on earth was I supposed to answer? I was pretty sure my surprise had betrayed enough that I couldn’t just say no. I obviously couldn’t tell him the truth. Uh, yeah, she’s just a dead girl I’m bonded with. Did you want to talk to her? But I couldn’t mention the Ceremony either, not to an outsider. I’d have to go with some version of the truth, at least until I figured out what he was looking for.
“I think so,” I hedged, trying to sound casual. “She was one of the koolis girls that came to our class once a week, right?” I mentally kicked myself for making it sound like I was guessing on a multiple choice test.
But Jared just nodded, making a note in his notebook. “That’s right. Did you know her outside of class?”
Committing to this version of my story, I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think anyone really knew the koolis girls outside of class. It’s not like we hung out with them or anything.”
“Have you seen her since school let out?” he asked.
I concentrated on keeping my expression smooth. The others may not have technically been lies, but this one was. “No. I haven’t seen her. I don’t know what happens to the koolis girls after graduation.”
Why was he asking this? What did he know—or not know?
But he didn’t give anything away, just leaned back in his chair and tapped his pencil against his lips again. He didn’t look like he was keeping any big secrets. I decided to take a risk.
“Why?” I asked, watching his face. “Did something happen?”
He looked up at me. “No, it’s nothing crazy,” he assured me. “She’s been reported missing, so I’m following up. Do you know anyone who might have known her?”
I shook my head. “Just the other girls from the koolis, I would guess. Maybe…maybe she ran away?” I offered.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing too. I just have to follow up with anyone that knew her.” For the first time, his expression grew opaque and something I couldn’t identify crept into his voice. Obviously, he didn’t think that. Besides, he’d told me they’d assigned him to his first real case, and I didn’t think he’d have been up all night if he was just following up on a runaway. There was something more going on here. And I needed to know what it was.
But Jared had closed the notebook and was smiling at me again, his expression open and his dark eyes friendly.
“That’s all I needed then. Will you let me know if you hear anything?”
“Of course,” I said, my concern warring with relief that at least he didn’t seem to suspect anything that involved me.
The thought made me feel slightly ashamed. I remembered what Darja had said during our fight at the fairgrounds. She’d been almost excited at the prospect that Stephen might know our secrets, might have evidence of what had happened to her. She wanted justice, and what’s more, she deserved it. The instinct to protect our community and keep our secrets was ingrained so deep inside me that it was hard to imagine any alternative, but I wondered for a second how bad it would be if Jared found out what had really happened to her. Stephen—he was a lunatic, a stalker. But Jared, that might be different. If the police got involved, Darja might really get the justice she deserved.
My thoughts were interrupted as Jared pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, coming around to open the door for me. I rose and squeezed past him into the hallway, and we walked together to the entrance, where the door opened back into the atrium. He stopped me there with a warm hand on my arm, a smile, and another pass of his other hand through his hair. “Thanks for your help, Sofi, I really appreciate it.”
My stomach fluttered a little at the sound of my name in his deep voice, and for a second I wondered again how it would feel to spill my secrets and let someone else share the burden. Not all the secrets, not the ones that would make him think I was crazy, but just enough to right some of the wrongs.
“And…” he went on after a pause, “it really was good to see you this morning.”
“So you could question me about your new case?” I teased him.
He smiled back. “No. It’s always good to see you. Maybe I will again soon.” He let go of my arm and stepped back through the glass door, letting it swing shut behind him.
My face felt warm, but I didn’t have any time to bask in whatever cocktail of emotions I was feeling before Darja was at my side, her voice sharp and urgent.
“There you are. Thank God, I was about to come in after you.”
I glanced around quickly, keeping my voice low, but there was no one else in the atrium. “Darja, what—?”
“Come on, hurry. You have to see this.” She reached down and grabbed at my hand, then growled when her hand passed through in a wave of cold. I flinched.
“Just come on.”
Without waiting to see if I was following, she took off across the atrium, passing right through the benches in the center as if they weren’t there. I hurried behind, sidestepping the benches as she headed down the hallway to the left, opposite where my father’s office was located.
“What’s going on?” I hissed, hurrying to keep up, but she didn’t answer. She didn’t stop until she stood at the very end of the hallway, outside the arched doorway stamped with bold letters that read Vaikesti Library and Archives.
She turned to me. “In here. Follow me, but stay back so he doesn’t see you.”
“What—?” I tried again, but she’d already gone through the closed door, and I almost walked headlong into the glass in an attempt to follow her before stopping and wrenching the door open.
The Vaikesti Library was actually one of my favorite places, and had been since I was a child. I was the youngest of six kids, and by the time I was born my mother had long since mastered the trick of pairing off the older kids with the younger ones to increase the odds that someone would notice if anyone went missing. I was most often left in the care of my middle sister, Hanna, and since much of my childhood coincided with her high school years, which brought with them a lot of time spent in the library—meeting study groups, working on term papers, and also meeting with boys outside of the watchful gazes of our parents—I’d spent a lot of time here as well, curled up in the worn chairs of the reading section, nose buried in a book.
So, when I stepped through the door into the familiar smell of paper and wood-cleaner and saw Darja turn to the left, I knew she was heading to the reference section.
I aimed a quick smile at the librarian on duty, who nodded absently at me as I passed.
The reference section, located in the back corner beyond the media area with its rows of computers, was not one I’d spent much time in. It held all the boring stuff—the books you couldn’t check out, the town records, the rare books.
In the center of the space was a series of tables set up for patrons to review the materials since they couldn’t be removed from the library. Darja stopped abruptly against the wall just beyond where the tables began, and I nearly walked right through her before I pulled up short.
I didn’t need her gesture to direct my gaze; my eyes immediately landed on Stephen where he sat at one of the tables, head bent low over a thick book that lay open in front of him. He was the only figure in the room; even the reference desk was deserted. A stack of other books sat in a haphazard pile to his side, but his full attention was focused on the book before him.
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “So? He’s reading a book.”
“Go see what it is,” she hissed back.
Our position against the wall meant we were behind him and to the side, so he wouldn’t see me if he happened to glance up, but it also meant that his body blocked the contents of the book from my view. I edged closer, keeping against the shelves like I was looking for a book as I sidled into viewing range.
I heard before I saw. His voice was low as he read aloud to himself. He stumbled slightly on some of the words, pausing to take notes or sound out a passage, but there was no mistaking it.
“Vaata, maa vaim on tugev ja selle võlakirjaga ma õnnistan seda—“
The old tongue. The language of the old country.
My gasp must have been audible, because the reading broke off abruptly and he turned toward where I was suddenly very preoccupied with the shelves.
There was a pause while I pretended to ignore him, but I clearly wasn’t fooling anyone.
“It’s Sofi, right?” he said, and his voice was surprisingly different from the day before. At the festival he’d been all obnoxious questions and oblivious cockiness, but this morning he seemed subdued, as if a night spent in jail had at least tempered his exuberance.
I was caught, so I nodded, and at Darja’s urging, I went ahead and slid uninvited into a chair across the table from him.
“I didn’t know you could read the old language,” I said, staring down at the book. It was huge and heavy-looking, bound in dark brown leather with thick cream pages. “Do you actually know what it says?”
He nodded a little, seemingly unbothered by my intrusion. If anything, he looked cautious, as if he was afraid I might yell at him or call the police again. “I’ve been studying it, as part of my project. I’m not fluent by any stretch, but I can follow the gist.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to this. Even in Vaikesti, I didn’t think anyone but a small handful of elders could still actually read the old tongue. Darja had circled around behind him, and was peering over his shoulder at the pages, but at this, she too looked up in surprise.
“What is it?” I asked, leaning forward to examine the page he had open.
“It’s…uh…” He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s a book of spells, actually.”
“What?!” Darja and I responded at the same time, but he only looked at me, his eyes wary at my too-loud voice.
“Just…you know, like from the old religion, how to have a good harvest, curing fevers, stuff like that.”
“Where did you get it?” I demanded, and he stared at me like I was an idiot, rightly so according to Darja’s expression, before gesturing toward the shelves.
“In the stacks,” he said slowly. “It looked interesting.”
I took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Sorry, yeah, I just meant I’ve never seen anything like that here before.”
“Do you spend a lot of time in the research section of the library?” he asked, and I started to stammer a reply before I caught the teasing glint in his eye. He laughed. “I’m kidding. It was in the back, and covered in dust. The whole stack was,” he said, nodding to the pile of books at his side. “I doubt anyone has pulled these out in a while.”
It seemed like he was starting to relax, so I leaned closer, pulling the book toward me a bit. The lines of text seemed utterly foreign to me. We still used a lot of words and phrases from the old tongue, but no one my age could actually read it. Stephen seemed bolstered by my interest, and began to flip through the pages, stopping to point things out. “See, there’s hundreds of old spells in here, some have drawings, and—”
“Why are so many of those pages empty?” I cut in, gesturing as he flipped. Every few pages there would be a series of blank pages, sometimes one or two, sometimes what seemed like a dozen, before the dark lines of print picked up again.
He paused on one of the blank pages, finger tracing down the edge. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “The whole book is like that though. I thought maybe it was for people to take notes, but nobody has written anything there.”
“They’re not blank.” Darja’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
“What?” I looked up at where she stood leaning over Stephen’s shoulder.
“What?” Stephen looked up at me, but I ignored him.
Darja reached a hand out and traced a finger down the page, her hand passing directly through Stephen’s as she did. He didn’t react.
“It’s not blank,” she said again, staring at me with wide eyes under a furrowed brow. “It’s full of text.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, pulling the book out of Stephen’s grasp and flipping to another series of blank pages. “Here, too?”
“Are you okay?” Stephen’s voice cut in, but adrenaline was pumping through my system and I didn’t spare him a glance.
“Yes,” she answered. “I don’t see any blank pages at all.”
I slammed the book shut and stood, my body on autopilot, overriding my brain.
“Sofi—”
My voice came out hoarsely, cutting him off. “I have to go.”
“Sofi—” It was Darja this time, but I ignored them both, heaving the book into my arms and taking off toward the entrance.
“You can’t take that out of—” Stephen’s voice faded in the distance as I broke into a run. The librarian’s desk was thankfully empty as I hurried past, and I was in my car, speeding down the road with the heavy book propped in the passenger seat before I realized I’d left Darja behind as well.