Jens and Jamie were still not speaking after an entire night and then a whole day of trudging along on our mountain trek toward Nøkken. The sun was just dipping down, and we were all a little the worse for wear. My whole body hurt from not sleeping and from Jamie’s bout with the gullin. I kept a pleasant expression in place, though. Anytime I made any noise of discomfort, Jens barked his anger at Jamie. I was getting good at being quiet.
Britta had gone up ahead of the group to try to find some food for us. I couldn’t imagine what berries could be found on the sparsely greened mountainside. Everything was gray and brown, except for the occasional non-fruit bearing bush.
Foss turned abruptly from his spot ahead of me with a gruff expression that I was beginning to realize was his only expression. “We’re not making good time. It’s you,” he accused, pointing a stabby finger toward me. “You’re moving too slow. You’ll get us all killed if you keep lagging behind like that.”
I wanted to put him in his place, but I recalled my favorite historical figure’s kind demeanor and donned a brave smile. “Sorry about that. I’ll try harder.”
The lack of a fight only made Foss angrier. “I don’t know why you expect us to just wait around for you. It’s you the Mouthpiece is after. I say we tie you to a rock if you fall behind again. Let Pesta find you so we can get some actual work done.”
Jens shoved Foss, but the effort wasn’t what I would’ve thought an indignant boyfriend would do. “Lay off, Foss. She’s not your slave.”
Uncle Rick stopped the progression, stomping his foot twice on the uneven path. “I think now is a good time to set up camp for the night. Charles, it’s time for your lessons.”
Mace’s head bobbed in Uncle Rick’s direction. He left my side for the first time that day and went to his adopted father. “You wish me to practice wind?” he asked, hands poised against the mild elements.
Uncle Rick motioned me over and spoke to me in a voice that carried to everyone. “Charles is the best and brightest. When they wouldn’t allow him to attend school because of his bloodline, I took it upon myself to train him at home. Charles can manipulate wind if there is wind to speak of, and he can multiply and divide water if there is enough of a source nearby to draw from.” His eyes twinkled at me, and I could see the pride he had in the boy so many cast aside as useless. “When your mother and father left him with me, he was fitted for a collar that kept him from whistling. It was precautionary. Just to make the public feel safe, really. Only Huldra women can control people with their whistle. The men have no extraordinary abilities.” He stroked the side of his gray beard, and I could tell he had more beneath the surface of this story. Everyone else was listening in. “I’ve never been one for limits. People put too much stock in them. If you’re cursed, you’re always under the curse. If you’re half-breed, you must not have enough magic in you to get out of bed in the morning. Undrans in general put too much stock in race and birthright, and not enough in study.”
I produced a sleepy smile. “But you’re not most men.”
“Neither is my boy.” He looked to Charles with sheer adoration. It did my heart good to know my brother had grown up with love. Uncle Rick leaned against the mountain and pointed at the surly mug that never cracked a smile. I wondered what Foss would look like if he grinned. “Charles, will you refill the canteens so Lucy can watch?”
Charles had the bashful grin one got when put on the spot doing a talent you were well-versed in. He picked up Jamie’s canteen, showed me its almost empty contents, and placed his hand over the mouth. A few seconds later, I heard a steady flow of water, as if from a tap. He took his hand away and showed me the filled canteen.
“Whoa! Seriously? That’s incredible!”
Charles’s cheeks turned pink as he handed the canteen back to Jamie. “It fares well for me that you’re so impressed with average elfin skill.”
I turned my head to Uncle Rick. “You can do that, too?”
“Indeed, I can. But we can only manipulate water when there’s a source to draw from. Had the canteen been bone dry, it would have been a disappointing parlor trick.” He clicked his fingers with his palm facing the sky, and water began pooling in his hand and dripping through his fingers. He kept speaking as I watched in awe. “Foss’s people were cursed when Pesta was sequestered to the Land of Be. It was a Fossegrimen who captured her and put her there, so the whole people bear a curse from her.”
I eyed Foss, who snarled at having his junk spilled out for me to examine. “What’s the curse?”
“Excellent question, dear. The curse was handmade by Pesta, and she named it The Depravity of Man. The Fossegrimen males don’t have the same conscience we do. They follow their depraved instincts much easier than we would. Hence, the Isle of Fossegrim is bursting with rapists, slave traders, violent men and thievery.” He paused to let that bomb sink in. “The more powerful the man was at the time the curse was made, the worse his curse. It turned Fossegrim from a thriving fish trade port to a den of horrors.” He motioned to Foss with his staff. “Now our Foss started out his life as a slave, so the curse isn’t as bad in him as it would be in two of the other powers that rule the island. I believe the chief also escaped the brunt of the curse, since he was merely a soldier at the time. Foss worked his way up and became the fourth power, using his cunning and depraved methods to get to where he is today. Foss is the fourth most powerful man in all of Fossegrim.”
I suppose I should’ve been impressed, but my skin was crawling with the descriptions of the men Foss lived near. “So I should cut him some slack?” I inquired.
“On the contrary. That’s all Undrans do is look the other way when a Fossegrimen pillages or a war breaks out on the island. We must teach Foss how to rise above his curse, otherwise we are telling him that he is weaker than his circumstance, a mere victim.” He smiled at the fuming Foss. “And I know him to have strength to rival anyone on the isle.”
There was a moment of quiet where everyone let Uncle Rick’s words sink in. Then Uncle Rick tapped his fingers to the side of the mountain three times. “Charles, it’s time for your lessons.”
“Yes, sir.” Charles stretched out his back, making sure to pay attention and show his father his due respect.
“You demonstrated that male Huldras have worth and can wield the whistle if they work hard enough. You’ve studied the whistle and its various components your entire life, as opposed to other Huldra men who dismiss the gift as inapplicable to them.” He smiled at his son and motioned to Foss. “Foss is buried under layers upon layers of Pesta’s curse. I put it to you to peel back the layers, one by one.”
Foss backed up, wary of becoming the lab rat. “You’ll not experiment with your illegal gift on me, half-breed.”
Mace’s eyes were wide, unsure of himself now that he was put on the spot. “Alrik, I don’t know about this. I mean, fixing Lucy’s eyes was an easy one. A siren’s curse? A skilled female Huldra wouldn’t be able to accomplish that! And I am not skilled.”
Tor rolled his eyes. “Though he whines like a female.”
I responded with a silent glower. Britta and I had barely spoken the whole day, and yet because we had ovaries, we were written off as weaker. She was off gathering food for everyone, and Tor had the nerve to cut us down.
Tor directed his words at Mace. “If Alrik says ya can do it, then ya have ta! Give it a try, halfy. Prove yer worth.” He shrugged. “The worst you’ll do is off this one, and I don’t think anyone’d cry much.”
Foss grumbled at Tor, but braced himself against Charles. “I don’t need fixing, Alrik.”
Uncle Rick stood, and even though Foss was taller, Uncle Rick seemed to tower over him in his kind, yet forceful manner. In a voice that demanded attention and obedience, he said, “Yes, you do need fixing. Anyone who puts their hands on my niece needs a reckoning.” He held Foss’s stare in a game of chicken to see who would concede and look away first. Foss was stubborn, but I knew my uncle.
Jens’s head whipped around to me. “What’s he talking about?”
I shook my head, not wanting to get into it just then. “It’s not important.” I really couldn’t take another fight. Jens was already not speaking to Jamie and was constantly at odds with Charles. I didn’t want to deal with yet more drama.
Nik spoke up. “Foss lost his temper and shoved her to the wall with his hands around her throat.” He postured and ran his fingers through his sparkly hair. “If I hadn’t been there to save her, I shudder to think what the curse would’ve let him do. I rescued her from his clutches just before she closed her eyes that final time.”
Oh, brother.
Mace and Jamie whipped their heads around to gape at me with looks of indignant fury on my behalf. It was sweet, but I shrugged it off as if Foss choking me was no big thing. “I didn’t want to whine like a female. Tor hates unnecessary whining,” I groused, looking pointedly at the dwarf, who shrank marginally at my chastising.
Fire lit in Jens’s green eyes as he moved to stand between Foss and Uncle Rick to gain the angry man’s attention. “You and I go way back, so I’ve been cutting you some slack. She’s my charge. You won’t compromise my job like that again.”
Oh, Jens. Always the romantic.
“She’s fine,” Foss spat, angry at me, even though I hadn’t outed him.
“You’ll let Mace take a crack at you,” Jens ordered, pointing his finger at his friend. “You’ll do it for me. I bailed you out when Olaf tried to buy up the neighboring land around your property to edge you out.”
“I paid you back with interest!” Foss countered.
Jens postured. “I helped you out when you couldn’t find the thief who was stealing from your vineyards! You owe me, and this is what I want.” He pointed his finger to the ground. “And I shouldn’t have to bargain with you. All you had to do was ask me for help, and I was there. You should be better than this to me.”
Foss looked away, hating having his debts brought up. “Fine. But let it be known I was against this from the beginning. Huldra magic’s illegal in Undra.”
Uncle Rick chuckled. “I’ve never known you to be a rule-follower. It’s one of the reasons I chose you for this mission. You’ll do what has to be done to accomplish your task.” He lowered his voice and added the hint of a threat. “I know how you became the fourth power. There’s no need to pretend the rules matter to you, though I appreciate the charade for Lucy’s sake.”
Foss’s ears turned red. “Just get on with it,” he grumbled. He took a seat on the stone path, crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees. He would have looked like he was meditating, were it not for the permascowl etched into his face.
Uncle Rick quietly instructed Mace, who looked like he would rather practice on anyone else. Jens, Jamie, Nik, Henry Mancini and Tor all backed into the cave we had set up camp in front of. I wondered when it was that Britta would return with food.
Mace stood, shoulders squared to Foss, who now had his face buried in his hands to fend off having to change his callous ways.
“Cover your ears, everyone. It should only work on Foss, but I’m still learning,” Charles instructed. His fingers danced at his sides as if stretching them for a piano recital. His shoulders were tense, and his brow furrowed as he decided how best to start the undoing of Foss.
I covered my ears and watched as Mace whistled for several long seconds, which stretched on into half a minute.
At first, nothing happened. Then Foss began jerking one shoulder, brushing it as if a fly was bothering him. The imaginary fly grew bigger, landing on both shoulders and crawling up his back. He twitched and squirmed on the ground until a sudden burst of air thrust out from his stomach up his body and blasted out of his mouth, as if the curse was a rotting stench in his guts.
I would have thought that was the end of the show, but Mace continued on, mutating his whistle without pausing for breath.
Foss began choking on the air that ran from his body like an exorcism. He pitched forward on all fours and heaved like an animal, looking like a guy bitten by a werewolf going through his first full-moon transformation. A few more seconds made vomit spew out of him. He growled and spat, seething and twitching until Uncle Rick placed his hand on Mace’s wiry shoulder. “That’ll do, son.”
Charles did not obey, but amped up the whistle, almost in punishment of the man. I watched in horror as Foss clawed at the rock beneath him. His stomach wrenched so violently, I cried out for Mace to stop. I ran in front of him with my hands over my ears and shook my head. “No more! Stop, Charles! Stop it!”
Charles released his hold on the whistle as it died on his lips. He stumbled backwards into Uncle Rick and rubbed his forehead to ease whatever tension that kind of magic inflicted on its user. I knelt down next to Foss and patted his back. “It’s okay! It’s alright. Deep breaths.”
Chemo was a necessary evil that turned many a night into a slumber party on the floor of the bathroom for Linus and me. I brought in a deck of cards, a checkerboard, magazines, dramatic books we liked to replace every third verb with the word “puke”, and various other games so Linus didn’t have to be alone while he emptied his stomach beyond what one would think might be humanly possible.
Once he went back to school a day too soon and lost his breakfast in the men’s room at whatever high school we were going to. I’m thinking it was the one with a wombat mascot. In the middle of first period, I felt something shift in me in that freaky twin way and started to panic. I got a pass and ran to the men’s room on a hunch, and found my brother on his hands and knees. There aren’t many places more disgusting than a teen boys’ public restroom, but I sat on the floor and held my brother until he finished. Then I held him until he finished crying.
Toward the end, our ever-present ability to make even the grimmest circumstance into a joke ran out. Linus was making peace with his impending death, and locked me out one of the times he was throwing up so he could cry by himself. I sat on the other side of the door, listening to his grief, and finally facing a bit of my own. Though he would die, I would live. Life without Linus? I still haven’t been able to find anything worse than that.
Though Foss was not Linus and I had no reason to be kind to him, the sight of him vomiting in that awful chemo way tugged me to the ground beside him. My arm went around his back and I pressed his cheek to mine once Foss blasted out his last chunk. “It’s okay, Linus. Deep breaths. Take a minute. I’ve got you.”
I could feel Foss’s resistance, but in the end, his weakness won out. He sagged against me, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. I ran my fingers through his short black hair, and he closed his eyes, relaxing for just a moment before the world demanded more of him.
Charles cupped his hands together and spilled water out from the center down onto Foss’s face. His expression was unmoved at Foss’s weakened state as he gulped at the water to rinse his mouth out. After Charles washed away the puke from the rocky path, he knelt down in front of Foss with a serious glare and whispered, “If you put your hands on my sister again, I’ll do that all over again just for fun.”
Foss sneered as he fought to control his breathing and wriggled out of my hug. “Get off me, Lucy.”
Despite the emotion that was raw within me, I smiled and backed away.
Jens helped me to my feet and shook his head. “I guess it didn’t work.”
I slipped my hand in his. “Sure it did. Uncle Rick said it had to be peeled back in layers. He called me by my name for the first time. I think that’s progress.”
Foss was resting against the mountain while Uncle Rick checked his eyes and ears, teaching Mace what he did well and what could be improved for the next time.
“Hey, I need a break. I’m going to go see if I can help your sister,” I said to Jens, dropping his hand.
“I’ll come with you.”
I shook my head, tapping my temple. “I have to take Jamie, so why don’t you hang out here for a bit.”
A hard look took over Jens’s features, but he consented. “Don’t go far. And take Henry Mancini.”
Jamie was already on his feet, wanting to get as far away from the Huldra as he could. Henry Mancini circled us and led the way with his nose to the ground. We walked a little ways up the path, getting just enough distance that we wouldn’t be overheard. Jamie shook out his nerves and straightened his shoulders as he spoke. “I know you don’t know much about the Huldra, but that was some impressive magic. That he can wield the whistle at all is an anomaly, but to use it to undo a siren’s curse? Even stripping off a single layer is incredible. Alrik’s right; Mace is a prodigy.”
I felt a little proud I was related to someone who was so talented. “Here’s hoping it sticks.”
Jamie tapped his chest as we walked. “When you get worked up about a matter, I can hear your thoughts quite clearly. I saw your memories. Your brother… Jens loved him, but I can see… I can see.”
I nodded, not sure what to say to that. “You must be better at hiding your thoughts, then.”
“I’m just more familiar with laplanding. You’ll get used to it. I’ve found putting up a small door in my mind often does the trick. I haven’t noticed you wincing when I’m thinking about…” He tried to fish around for a G-rated ending to that sentence. “When I’m thinking about certain people in ungentlemanly ways I shouldn’t.”
I grimaced. “Oh. Well, I didn’t get any of that,” I lied. “So kudos on the fake door thing. I’ll work on that on my end so you don’t have to hear my crap. I don’t want you falling in love with Jens, too. Apparently I’ve got enough competition.”
His hand found its way to my back. “It’s a privilege to know you, not a burden. You can trust me with your life. I can care for its secrets like they were my own.” We walked for a few paces in silence. “Can I trust you with mine?”
“Of course. If you want to talk about your whole Britta/Freya triangle, you can unload on me. I’m good at keeping things to myself.” I recalled the mental image I’d fished out of his brain. “And you’re right, Freya does have horse’s teeth. That, plus the fact that you don’t love her? I’d bail.” I shook my head like the sage I was. “Ripcord that nonsense, Jamie. Seriously.”
Jamie’s expression was split between amusement and chagrin. “Thank you. And I can see you’ve been polite in telling me you can’t hear my thoughts. I apologize for anything unseemly you’ve heard in my head. I’ll try to be more discreet.”
I stopped and turned to face the world away from the mountain. The light breeze kissed my face as I watched the trees a few stories beneath us sway in their slow-motion grace under the red moon’s light. Henry Mancini paused to walk three times around me before licking my shoes. “Well, I guess I’ll preemptively apologize in case Jens gets particularly double-jointed in my dreams.”
Jamie let out a loud guffaw, his face red at my words. “Yes, well Jens has always been a bit more from your world than mine.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I assured myself more than him.
Britta’s steps interrupted our companionable chat, and Jamie stood straighter to greet her.
I tried not to freak out when I saw her with blood dripping from her knife, but I couldn’t help it. “Britta! Are you okay? What happened?”
She examined the two kanins in her other hand to see what problem I was talking about. “What? They’re properly dead. I’ll skin them in a moment. We’ve already lost the sun, and I didn’t want anyone to worry.”
“Oh,” I said lamely, not knowing how to pass off my horror for pride. “Great job. I’ll go let the others know you’re safe.” I scampered off before Jamie could tag along. Take your time, I told him.
I see what you’re doing, he replied with a bit of levity in his inner voice. And thank you.