The Lost City Page 4

  “What about trolls with super strength?” he countered reasonably. “Villages built in secret inside mountains? Kingdoms hidden amongst the humans? That doesn’t sound like a fairy tale to you?”

  “That’s different.” I took a long drink of my wine as I tried to come up with an argument.

  “How?”

  “Because I’ve seen it. I am it.”

  He cocked his head, staring at me thoughtfully. “Haven’t you ever thought that there was more to this world than only what you see?”

  “I don’t know.” I wanted to come up with a better answer than that, but the exhaustion of the day and the wine hit me all at once, and then I was doing the best I could to suppress a yawn. “That’s probably too deep a question to be asking me at two in the morning.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” He stood up and offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I get carried away talking about my work. You’re probably ready to get some rest. We don’t have another guest room, I’m afraid, but we do have a very long couch in the living room that my wife has all made up for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  6

  Speed Bump

  I had driven six hours, which added nearly four hundred miles to the odometer, when I stopped at a little gas station on a deserted stretch of road. I finished filling up the tank when the Jeep started rocking, and a loud banging sound emanated from within. The back gate swung open, and bags came tumbling out onto the ground, along with one very sweaty, disheveled tween girl.

  Hanna stood up, dusted off her jeans, and pushed her damp curls off her forehead. “Oh, jakla, I seriously thought you’d never stop.”

  “Hanna!” I gaped at her in disbelief. “What the hell? What are you doing?”

  I let out a frustrated sigh. Everything had seemed fine this morning. I woke up later than I’d wanted to after sleeping soundly on Johan’s couch, but I’d still had a quick breakfast with Hanna and her grandparents. Hanna was quiet, but more of the shy-awkward type and less of the sulky-quietly-planning-to-run-away kind.

  We’d all said goodbye in the driveway, and Johan chatted with me a bit about Merellä and the weather and the roads. I’d thought Hanna had gone out to explore the village to avoid a sappy goodbye, because that’s what she told us all she was doing.

  But apparently that had been a lie.

  “I thought you’d gone far enough that it would be safe for me to get out,” Hanna said.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean, ‘safe’?”

  “Well, like you won’t turn back.” She motioned vaguely to the highway. “I was planning to wait until Merellä, but it was way too hot and cramped back there.”

  “Hanna, I have to turn back. All you’ve done is add another . . .” I groaned as I did the math of going to Eftershom and back. “Twelve hours? Ugh. That can’t be right.”

  “Right, and you have to start your internship tomorrow,” Hanna said with a waggle of her eyebrows. “You don’t have time to go back and forth if you want to get any sleep before then.”

  “Hanna! What’s so terrible about your grandparents that you’re trying to hold me hostage over it?”

  “I don’t know them.” She kicked at a rock and stared down emptily at it. “The last time I saw them was two years ago. Grandpa Johan sends me letters, and they call a few times a year, but . . . you wouldn’t want to stay with strangers for six weeks, would you?”

  “Maybe I’m not the best one to ask, since I moved in with your family pretty fast,” I reminded her.

  She shrugged it off. “Well, that’s different. We have TV and internet.”

  “Come on, Hanna. You’re being ridiculous.”

  “You don’t get it, Ulla. I don’t care if they are my family. I don’t want to stay with them.”

  I chewed my lip as I stared down at her. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her chin up, defiant, but her eyes showed what she was truly feeling—fear.

  Forcing a young girl to spend time with adults she felt uncomfortable around sounded way beyond my pay grade, so I decided it was time to hand it over to her parents. I called Mia on my cell, and after briefly explaining the situation to her, I handed the phone off to Hanna. Even though I stepped away to give her some privacy, it was hard to ignore her body language—which slowly shifted from slouching and trudging to standing tall with quick steps.

  “Here.” Hanna skipped over and thrust the phone at me. “Mom wants to talk to you.”

  “Hello?” I replied uncertainly.

  “So, Ulla, I’m so sorry to have put you in this position,” Mia said, her voice tight with worry. “I don’t want to ask you to do anything that would jeopardize your time at the Mimirin, but I also can’t have Hanna left alone on the side of the road in Washington.”

  “Mia, I would never—”

  “No, no, of course not, I know you never would,” Mia assured me quickly, then let out a sigh. “We have to figure out where she is going. Where are you staying in Merellä?”

  “Just an apartment. I don’t know that much about it, and I haven’t seen any pictures.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to remember the listing I’d found online. It had been a few short things: FLATMATE WANTED. 2 BED, 1 BATH, KITCHENETTE. CARRIAGE HOUSE APT W/IN SHORT WALK OF MIMIRIN. After I’d found it, I went to Finn for help, since I’d never rented anything before in my life, and he’d actually set up most of it, gifting me a month’s rent as a going-away present.

  “Finn helped me out, so he knows all about it,” I said.

  “Great, wonderful.” Mia let out a relieved breath. “That’ll . . . hopefully, that should make things easier. So . . . I guess, right now, I think the best thing is for you to bring Hanna with you to Merellä. You have to keep going forward, and we won’t be able to make it to wherever you are tonight.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense,” I said, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Hanna twirling about. “I guess I’ll call, um, my new flatmate and see how I can make it work.”

  “Thank you, and again, sorry about all this, Ulla.”

  “Yeah, I understand. We’ll talk more later.”

  I ended the call and turned my attention back to Hanna. She was smiling widely until she saw my face, and her attempts to appear remorseful only made her look like she was holding back a sneeze.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend that you feel bad.” I shook my head and managed a crooked smile. “You owe me bigtime for this. Huge.”

  “I know, I know.” She ran over and threw her arms around me. “Thank you so much!”

  “Don’t thank me so soon. I haven’t figured out how you’re gonna pay me back yet.”

  7

  Merellä

  It appeared like a mirage in the dark of night.

  There was little to see until a lighthouse, flashing onto angry waves crashing against the cliffside. Miles of empty coastline stretched out before us . . . until it didn’t. The air shimmered and bowed, then shadows began to take shape.

  “Oh jakla!” Hanna said in surprise, and she leaned forward, practically resting her chin on the dashboard, as she watched the cloaking magic fade and the buildings materialize.

  Merellä—the ancient city on the sea—loomed before us like a gothic fairy tale. A ten-foot stone wall protected the inland side of the citadel, and to enter we had to pass through a massive gate made of wood and wrought iron. Two guard towers sat on either side, and I had to show them my official acceptance letter from the Mimirin as well as Finn’s identification and voucher for me.

  The guard handed me back my papers and asked, “Do you know where you’re going, miss?”

  “Not really, no,” I admitted. “This is my first time here.”

  He tapped the address on my papers. “The place you’re staying is in the Olde District, down by the stables. Stay on this road until the Ogden Tower, then take a left down toward Wapiti Way. It’s only about a block or so away west of that.”

  “Thanks.” I rolled the window back up and head
ed off the way he’d pointed me.

  I drove slowly down the narrow dirt roads. The village houses along the road were practically built on top of each other, with hardly a gap between neighboring houses. A hazy fog drifted in off the ocean, and the dim kerosene lamps that hung on lampposts only added to the eerie feel.

  “Do they have superheroes here?” Hannah asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  She pointed out the window, and I looked up to see the dark silhouette perched on the peak of a thatched roof. A cloud shifted over the moon, illuminating the figure and her long, iridescent hair. In the moonlight it shimmered and shifted color like a silken rainbow.

  “What the hell—” I slammed on the brakes a split second before I drove into the corner of a house.

  Seconds later—barely long enough for me to catch my breath—the fabric roof of the Jeep caved in.

  Hanna yelped and crouched down, and I threw the car in park. One of the bags came flying forward, as the figure in the back flailed.

  In a clunky but effective move, I opened the door and grabbed Hanna, pulling her out with me. Looking back over my shoulder as I yanked her to safety, I caught a glimpse of the rainbow, then the figure dove out of the Jeep and took off down the street.

  “What was that?” Hanna asked. “Is that a troll? Or a unicorn?”

  I shot her a look. “Hanna, did you see a horse with a horn?”

  “I’m just keeping my mind open. I’ve never seen anything like that before.” She looked up at me. “Have you?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Since we don’t know what that was, I think we should get in the car and get to our apartment and maybe make sure that we lock the door behind us.”

  Hanna didn’t move immediately—instead preferring to scan the skyline for signs of anything else unusual lurking about.

  8

  Flatmate

  “You’re late.” That was how my new flatmate answered the door.

  Hanna and I were huddled up on the landing at the top of the stairs with all of our bags piled around us, and Dagny Kasten—the aforementioned new flatmate—stood just inside, frowning at us. Her long black hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and the old plaid shorts and the pillow imprint on her tawny skin led me to believe she’d been asleep before we got here.

  “I’m really sorry about that. We ran into some trouble on the way here,” I said, and Hanna was still scanning the nearby rooftops for any signs of the rainbowed creeper.

  Dagny narrowed her eyes at Hanna before looking back up at me. “You are the boarder, right? I thought you were coming alone.”

  “Yeah, I am Ulla Tulin,” I assured her, and she relaxed some. “Hanna wasn’t supposed to be here, but she’s only staying until her parents can come get her.”

  Hanna smiled up hopefully at her and waved. “Hi, I’m Hanna. I’m twelve, and I’m quiet, clean, and I know how to make a mean carrot cake.”

  “Well, I don’t know where you’re gonna sleep, but you might as well come on in.” Dagny finally stepped back, letting us into the apartment.

  The place was small and rustic. Exposed beams ran along the vaulted ceilings, and the small galley kitchen had butcher-block countertops. Since this was temporary housing, it came sparsely furnished—a lumpy sofa, a battered bistro-style table with four stools, and ratty curtains over the windows. My bedroom was a small, open loft above the bathroom at the back of the apartment, accessible only by ladder. It was large enough for the twin mattress on the floor, a nightstand on one side, and a small dresser at the foot of the bed.

  A door off the living room led to Dagny’s bedroom that went unseen in the tour, and she immediately declared it was “completely off-limits” to me and Hanna, for any reason, ever.

  After that, she gave us a brief rundown of the house rules—which basically amounted to us not touching her stuff, cleaning up after ourselves, and being quiet.

  “Any questions?” she asked when she finished.

  Hanna’s hand shot up. “Do you have rainbow-haired trolls here?”

  “Are you talking about those silly troll dolls?” Dagny asked derisively.

  “No, we saw . . . something when we came into town,” I explained. “I think it was maybe a troll or a person, with long crazy rainbow-colored hair.”

  “The Mimirin is filled with magic and attracts trolls from all over the world.” Dagny shrugged. “With brightly colored hair being so in right now, the wilder coeds here have to find new ways to stand out, so you’re bound to see some crazy hair and inexplicable fashion choices while you’re here.”

  “This wasn’t just some teenager going wild at college,” Hanna insisted. “They were doing parkour on the roofs, and their hair was totally unreal.”

  “I doubt it’s anything more than someone experimenting with potions,” Dagny said, and she tried to suppress a yawn. “The guards at the gate may not show it, but the security here is fairly tight. Since most of the protection comes from our supernatural abilities, there isn’t much to see, but trust me when I say that Merellä makes sure to keep any really dangerous riffraff out.”

  “Well, I would like to get in touch with that security, then, to find out who we saw,” I said. “When they were doing their rooftop acrobatics, they slipped and fell into my Jeep, seriously damaging the canvas top, and I’d like to get it fixed before I have to head home.”

  Dagny nodded, and this time she didn’t even try to hide her yawning. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to the Mimirin, and they’ll help you get everything all sorted out. But right now I’m exhausted, so I’m going back to bed. I’ll expect you to be up and ready to go by eight A.M. sharp.”

  “Can do. Thank you.”

  Dagny paused at her bedroom door. “How long are you staying?”

  “For six weeks,” I said.

  “Oh, you’ll be here for the Midsommar festival, then,” Dagny commented.

  “A festival?” Hanna asked with wide, sparkling eyes. “That sounds exciting. What is it?” But Dagny’s only response was closing her bedroom door behind her, so Hanna looked over at me. “Do you know what it is?”

  “It doesn’t matter, because you won’t be here for it,” I reminded her.

  9

  Provincial

  Dagny led me through the twisting streets of Merellä, carefully navigating along the shops and carts and through all the rush-hour “traffic” of villagers all heading the same place we were. Hanna had been left behind at the apartment to entertain herself with her laptop and Dagny’s suggestion of “cleaning.” She hadn’t been happy about it, but I couldn’t very well take her to work with me, and she was old enough to fend for herself for the day.

  As Dagny and I passed the third girl in a row sporting unnatural hair color—this time pastel cotton candy—I realized that she hadn’t been exaggerating about the wilder fashion sensibilities. Dagny herself wore a bright yellow shift dress, though that didn’t clash with the provincial village feel quite as much as some of the other choices I’d seen.

  “I didn’t think that troll hair held dye that well,” I commented.

  “They don’t use human dye. They use potions here,” Dagny explained, sounding bored, and she immediately changed the subject. “That’s where I spend most of my time if I’m not working or at home.”

  She pointed across the road to a large brown building. The sign above the door featured a brightly colored bull’s-eye and the name Merellä Archery Club in big, bold letters.

  “Are you any good with a bow and arrow?” I asked.

  “Very,” she said. “But I do it because it relaxes me.”

  I tried to take in all the sights around me, but honestly, it was hard, because I was exhausted. All the driving the last couple days had been particularly draining, and then sleeping in a new bed never went that well for me. Plus, Hanna had kept talking to me from her makeshift bed on the lumpy couch all night.

  To make matters worse, Dagny was practically a speed walker, and I had to scramble to
keep up with her.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to find my way here on my own,” I said, attempting to make conversation with her in hopes that she would remember I was following her and slow down some.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Dagny assured me flatly.

  “How long did it take you to figure it out?” I asked.

  “Oh, I knew my way around before I got here.”

  “How’d you manage that? Did you use magic?”

  She snorted. “Hardly. I studied maps and everything I could get my hands on. It took me nine months before I was finally accepted into my program, so I had plenty of time.”

  “Why did it take so long?”

  “So long?” she echoed scornfully. “It usually takes over a year for applicants to get in. I was fast-tracked because I graduated the top of my class at the Doldastam royal university.”

  “Oh, I . . . I didn’t realize that, I guess.”

  “I’m assuming that it didn’t take you that long, which means that you either have an amazing intellect, or . . .” She paused, her dark eyes appraising me as she clicked her tongue. “Or you have connections. So, which was it, Ulla?”

  “It’s not like that, exactly. I wanted to join the Inhemsk Project to find my parents, and the only way I could do that was through an internship—”

  Dagny held up her hand. “I didn’t ask why you were here, and honestly, I don’t care.” She turned on her heel and strode ahead.

  “Well, it sounded like you cared,” I muttered as I hurried after her. She didn’t respond, so I decided to change the subject. “What brought you here?”

  “I wanted to study environmental effects on parapsycho-logical abilities, particularly in relation to the genetics and biodiversity among trolls, and Elof Dómari is the leading expert in troglecology,” she said. “He’s been a docent at the Mimirin since 2017, and this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work with him.”