Thief Eyes - Janni Lee Simner [74]
It took them a while to get all the supplies—you can’t exactly buy raven feathers at the mall—but in the end the spell worked, and they headed straight for Hlidarendi. Dad drove while Katrin pored over the spellbook, hoping she’d get there in time to cast the spell instead of me.
They explained all of this as Katrin drove us back to Reykjavik and Ari and I wolfed down the hot dogs we’d picked up from a gas station along the way. Or rather from a grill set up outside the gas station—everyone was outside again, because of the earthquake at Hlidarendi this time, and we passed several more emergency vehicles.
“It was awful,” Dad said—meaning Muninn’s spell, not the earthquake. He glanced back at me, as if to make sure I was still there. “I knew I’d lost something important, only I couldn’t figure out what.” Beside him, Katrin’s hands tightened on the wheel.
It was already midafternoon. Time always seemed to get away from me when Muninn was around. I thought of my run by the harbor, of how I’d heard a raven’s cry and the beating of wings. Like all the other time I’d lost, those six hours had been Muninn’s fault, not Hallgerd’s.
Once the hot dogs were gone, Ari fell asleep in the backseat, his head resting on my shoulder. I saw Dad watching us again; Dad saw me watching him and quickly looked away. I stroked Ari’s hair, which felt just like bear fur, and wondered what on earth I was going to tell Jared when I called him.
* * *
Flosi threw himself at Ari the instant we opened the door to his apartment, before he could even pull off his shoes. The quake hadn’t reached as far as Reykjavik, so it was safe to go inside. Once the sheepdog had gotten his entire wriggling body into Ari’s lap on the couch, it was Ari’s and my turn to explain.
We told Dad and Katrin everything, in English for Dad’s benefit. They listened, not saying a word, though Katrin’s arms gripped her chair and Dad ran his hands through his hair so many times I was sure it would never lie flat again.
Neither of them spoke when we were through, either, not for long moments. Then Dad turned, slowly, to Katrin. “There was a time,” he told her, “when I said that you were crazy. I’d like to take that back now, if I may.”
“And I as well,” Ari said. Flosi had fallen asleep in his lap, and Ari absently scratched the dog’s ears.
Katrin shut her eyes, as if their apologies pained her. “I wish I had been crazy, and that none of this had happened. I wish—” She looked at Dad; he looked at her. They didn’t look like they hated each other anymore. They looked more like—not lovers. Like old friends who’d been through the same war together. The war in which their children were lost and found again.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I never should have run. If I hadn’t run, Mom might not—”
“Haley.” Dad’s voice was quiet as I’d ever heard it. “This is not your fault. If anyone is to blame—” He buried his face in his hands. “It’s me, Haley.”
“Not only you,” Katrin said.
“Oh sure, let’s all fight over whose fault it is,” Ari said. “Can I have a turn, too?” Flosi stirred in his lap and let out a single woof. “See? Even Flosi wants his chance at feeling guilty.” Ari pressed his face into the dog’s fur. His shoulders shook, laughing or sobbing, I couldn’t tell.
Katrin watched him, her expression strange. “You were really a bear?”
“Oh, yeah, that reminds me.” Ari’s shaking stilled as he nudged Flosi from his lap and took off his jacket. “You don’t want a bear in the apartment. They run around, break all the furniture—it is a problem. For now, I will be human.”
Katrin gave a shaky laugh, but Dad only sighed and ran his hands through his hair once more. “Just like us all,” he said.
The sun was down and Ari and I were yawning by the time Katrin