Thief Eyes - Janni Lee Simner [59]
I stopped short. How did he know my name? He stepped forward and reached for me, but his hand went right through mine, just like Hallgerd’s once had. Ghost. Which of us was the ghost here?
The man shrugged, as if used to this. “Time is an uncanny thing, as you know well enough. Have a care in the south. Whatever you steal, be sure to give it back again.”
Did he mean Hallgerd’s coin? I hadn’t stolen that, but I hoped to give it back, anyway. How much did this man know about the coin? “What do you know about fire magic?” Maybe he could help get rid of the fire in me.
“I know less than you do, I think.” There was sympathy in the man’s eyes, and also a strange sort of sorrow. “The gift you’ve received will not be cast cheaply aside, but there is no helping that. Good fortune go with you, and with Hallgerd, too. I never meant her harm, either.” He turned away then and walked toward the faint outline of a nearby farmhouse. One step, then another, and he disappeared into the mist.
Ari nudged my hand with his warm nose. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then he shrugged his huge shoulders and knelt down for me to mount. As I did I thought, At least it can be cast aside. That’s something, right?
The road wound left and south, away from the river and out of the valley. The fog gave way to a cloudy sky that barely let the moonlight through. A few cars passed, and their engines seemed unnaturally loud.
In the distance, a plume of steam rose from the ground, like the steam I’d seen when Dad and I drove to Thingvellir. The coals in me flared suddenly hot. I forced the flames down—tried to force them down. This time, they didn’t listen, and the fire in me burned cheerfully on. Fear rippled through me.
We passed more plumes of steam. Heat spread through my chest, my arms, my legs. I couldn’t douse this fire. I fought not to panic instead. The scent of sulfur tinged the wind. I felt the heat beneath the road, the molten underground rivers that fed the steam. I buried my face in Ari’s fur. The fire in me cooled, but only a little.
We flew past sweeping black hills and alongside rivers. I wondered how Ari could keep running for so long. My arms and hips ached. I shut my eyes a second to rest them.
Fire roared before me. A flaming arrow—the earth cracked open where it landed. The crack spread, like a tear in a sweater. Molten fire bubbled through it, overflowing into the land around it.
I felt my grip slipping and jerked awake with a gasp. Ari slowed and turned to look at me. “I’m okay,” I told him. “Just keep going.” Don’t stop now.
Ari ran on, and I clutched his fur tighter than I needed to. My hands were slick with sweat. The wind burned against my skin. In a distant corner of my mind I saw more arrows, all aflame, landing throughout Iceland—south, west, east, north. I saw arrows flying beyond the island, too, landing in places I knew from maps: Greenland. England and Norway. The northeastern United States. Wherever the arrows landed, cracks spread, tearing the land apart.
Seeing the future runs in our family. “That’d better not be the future.” I imagined the cracks in the earth spreading all the way to Tucson—all the way around the world. I’d always assumed that whatever happened here, home would be safe.
Would returning Hallgerd’s coin stop those arrows—stop that future? Or would it only give her more power, like Svan said? What if I needed to get rid of the fire in me to make the arrows stop?
We topped a rise. I looked down, over a glimmering lake and row after row of blocky stone walls. I dreamed of a tower made of a child’s gray blocks. “Thingvellir,” I said. This was where it all began.
Where it all ended, for Mom. I clutched Ari’s fur so hard my knuckles turned white.
I felt once more the fire flowing beneath the earth. I felt the fire burning through my veins. Somehow, I kept that fire beneath my skin. Ari ran faster. Sweat poured down my face. A few figures—ghosts like Hallgerd’s uncle—glanced up as we ran by. We left the lake and the ghosts behind, making our way past fields of gravelly black