The Misadventures of Annika Brisby (3 page)

She ran as fast as she could down the block, looking over her shoulder to see if the furious bookstore owner was chasing her. To her surprise she saw the three people she’d just met running after her instead. Just then the dark blonde’s paper bag tore, spilling its contents all over the sidewalk. The girls stopped and turned around to gather the books, but the dark-haired young man kept running towards her.

He won’t even stop and help his girlfriend? What a jerk!
she thought as she began to grow winded
. Why is he chasing me? Should I stop?
She wasn’t even thinking about where she was going, but the next thing she knew she was climbing onto a bus. She had no clue where it was headed when she paid the fare, but she walked to the rear and took a seat anyway, huffing as she tried to catch her breath. She looked down at her lap and realized she was still clutching the book about stringed instruments. She sunk low into her seat with just enough room to peek out the window. Enough time passed that it was clear the shopkeeper wasn’t going to involve the police over an old book on guitars, but there was one man who came into view; the one who had put the book in her hands.

The bus rumbled as the driver turned the ignition switch and put it into first gear, and Annika coaxed her window down to get a better look at him. Over the chaos and noise of the traffic in the street, he managed to spot her and dodged the cars and trucks to reach the bus. Grabbing ahold of the windowpane, he pulled himself up along the outside, and Annika knew he’d have crawled right through it if it were bigger. The bus was headed for a narrow street made even narrower by a large truck parked up ahead. If he didn’t let go soon he’d be crushed into it. She opened her mouth to warn him, but no words came out. He, however, flashed his brilliant smile at her with absolute confidence.

“Annika Brisby…” he said, savoring her name just before he let go. “I’ve been wondering when I would finally meet you.”

a living legend

Annika had accidentally taken a route that didn’t get her home until well past dinnertime, but she didn’t mind. She stared out the window at the city streets and eventually the countryside, wondering why the pale blonde had mistaken her for someone else, and what the dark-haired daredevil had meant by his comment about finally meeting her.

She came home to Uncle Vince standing in front of the stove in his ancient flannel robe. A cigarette was stuck in his mouth that halfway consisted of a long stem of ash. His friend Tosho sat at the table, typing on his laptop, unconcerned by the acrid stench that greeted Annika’s nose the second she opened the door.

“Aww, sweetie, you made dinner.” She fanned away the opaque veil of smoke that had settled throughout the kitchen and cracked open a nearby window. Vince jerked his head upwards at her sarcasm, causing the ashy portion of his cigarette to fall into the pan.

“Ah, fucking shit,” he muttered as he continued to smoke the rest of his cigarette. “That is the second time I’ve done that today, and now I’m out of eggs.”

“How can you mess up eggs? They’re the easiest thing to cook.” Tosho nodded in agreement. Vince turned to his niece and gave her an exaggerated pout.

“I don’t think I can let you leave. I will starve.” Annika took the dirty pan from him and began scraping the ashy crust into the trash.

“Oh Vince, you have
got
to learn to make something besides eggs.” She laughed at his pathetic state of bachelorhood and rummaged through the refrigerator, looking for something more creative for dinner. She pulled out a few thick slices of beef and a handful of vegetables.

“You came home much later than I expected,” Vince remarked. “Where have you been?”

“I sort of met some weird people today,” she began, chopping up the onions and potatoes.

“They must have been weird if
you
are calling them weird,” Vince said, lighting a fresh cigarette. She described to him and Tosho how the people were dressed like they’d come off a movie set and were terrible with money. She told him about the boy with the hypnotic eyes that seemed capable of reading her mind when it came to books and guitars.

“But you liked this boy, didn’t you?” he taunted playfully. “I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

“He was actually a bit of a cad,” she said, turning away so that neither Vince nor Tosho could see her blush. “And then he had the nerve to call
me
saucy!”

“Then he sounds clever to me,” Vince hooted, but Tosho didn’t laugh. He seemed to be stuck on a detail from earlier in her tale.

“Did you say that the women wore green sashes?” he asked.

“Yep. And long white tunics.”

“That is so bizarre. They sound like samodivi.”

“Does a samodivi walk up to strangers and try to take off their clothes?”

“I’ve seen stranger things in Montmartre. They must be eccentric artists or musicians, just like you,” Vince mumbled as he flopped into the chair beside Tosho. The cigarette bobbing in his mouth ashed all over his bare chest, but he merely brushed it away. Vince had a lot of good qualities, but cleanliness certainly wasn’t one of them.

“I don’t walk up to strangers and try to take off their clothes.”

“Maybe you’d sell more albums if you did?” Vince and Tosho shared a little laugh. Unamused, Annika ignored her uncle and threw the chopped vegetables into a pan along with a pot roast. She covered it with tinfoil and set it in the oven, turning to Tosho.

“So what’s a samodivi, and what’s up with the green sashes?”

“Samodivi is the plural form of a samodiva. They are wood nymphs,” he explained. “There is a Bulgarian legend that they take off their clothes every night before they bathe in the river. If a man is lucky enough to steal her sash, she is obligated to become his wife. I wish the legend were true.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Vince said with a grin. “If it were true, I would have brought a samodiva home for myself a long time ago.”

“Well, these girls totally looked like what you just described,” Annika confirmed. “But even if samodivi did exist, I can’t imagine why a wood nymph would come to a big city like Sofia. Wood nymphs belong in the forest.”

“Maybe they ran out of men in the woods?” suggested Vince. “If you visit with them again, you can invite them over
any
time.”

“Yeah, okay,” she joked. “If I bump into them again I’ll be sure to invite them all to dinner. The guy said he was from Derbedrossivic, if you know where that is.”

Tosho gave her an odd look.

“Derbedrossivic? There is no such place that I know of. The name sounds Armenian.”

“But Armenia’s on the other side of the Black Sea,” Annika pointed out. “And he said it wasn’t that far away.”

Tosho just looked at her skeptically.

“Maybe it is in Romania. It is not that far by train.” Both he and Annika were content enough to drop the issue, since everyone has a different idea of just how far away is ‘not that far’.

“You know,” Vince said, “your grandmother used to tell your mother and I all sorts of tales about the wood nymphs when we were growing up.”

“I remember Mom telling me about some of them too,” said Annika, “but I don’t remember her calling them samodivi.”

“Perhaps no,” said Vince, squinting his eyes slightly as he recalled old memories. “But your
mère
tried very hard not to forget our history. That is why she carries around that big treasure chest every time your family moves.”

“You mean that trunk of old lace and books?” Annika asked. She could indeed recall a mysterious trunk that she had never seen the bottom of. It was filled with sentimental objects that her mother didn’t display, like old photographs of family members and toys that threatened to break if they were ever played with again. She’d been curious as a young girl as to the contents, but the trunk was always kept locked up tight in her parents’ bedroom. She had always assumed the contents were probably of no interest to her, but she made it a point to ask her mother about it when she returned.

The smell of dinner had hovered over their noses for long enough, and the conversation became focused over the insect world yet again. Annika chewed on a bite of tender meat and potatoes as she tuned out the latest development of her uncle’s project. She was secretly thinking about returning to the bookstore on her next visit to Sofia, but she was afraid that the owner might recognize her and kick her out. She
had
stolen a book after all. That night, and for many nights afterwards, she dreamt that she was always running. Running from Danny, running from the angry bookstore owner, running from the blonde who wanted to feel her up, and running from the guy that had already gotten under her skin. Somewhere inside she knew she wanted to stop. She just wasn’t sure why.

a walk through the trees

Autumn had fallen upon the Balkans, splashing the mountains and valleys with orange, red, and yellow. While Annika had enjoyed her extended vacation, she had a long list of new songs she was anxious to share with James and Charlie. On a crisp, sunny day in mid-October she set out on what was to be one of her last hikes, as she was planning to buy a ticket home later that evening.

Walking everywhere had become the norm, so she decided to make a day of it. She packed a large bottle of water, some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apples, and her journal, just in case she was inspired to write another song. For two hours Annika climbed over hilly mountains, delving deeper and deeper into the dense woods. The day started out so beautiful; the blue skies were dotted with fluffy white marshmallow clouds. She snapped photos with her camera and listened to music on her headphones as she climbed up and down the hilly terrain, too lost in daydreams of her band’s future success to pay attention to just how many miles she’d walked.

There was a meadow full of wildflowers that she lay down in and jotted down a few notes for lyrics that had come up amidst those daydreams. The sky began to grow dark, so she walked back the way she came, but the terrain beyond the hill looked strange and unfamiliar. She blamed it on the shadows caused by the setting sun, and assured herself that Vince’s house was just over the next hill…but every time she reached the top, it was only another hill. Her stomach turned as adrenaline began to trickle into her bloodstream. It was getting darker by the second, and the only lights to be seen were from the twinkling stars. Annika figured if she just found a place to sleep, things would look familiar again in the morning. She crouched underneath a protective pine tree and tried not to think about how many bears, cougars and wolves lived in the mountains. Besides her t-shirt and jeans with a patch on one knee, all she had to keep her warm was her black-hooded sweatshirt. She tried to remain calm and not panic, and eventually fell asleep, exhausted from walking almost nonstop that day.

Birds woke her well before dawn’s first light had airbrushed the sky with a deep cerulean hue. She shivered and dug into her bag for her breakfast; her very last peanut butter sandwich and a few precious drops of water to wash it down with. As the sky grew brighter she thought it might help to climb one of the higher hills and try to find Vince’s house from up there. Surely in the sunlight it would be easy to spot. For an hour and a half she forced her legs to climb, only stopping long enough to catch her breath.

She arrived at the top of the hill, dropped her backpack to the ground and pulled herself into one of the tall fir trees. Her hopeful eyes scanned the horizon in every direction, expecting to see a smattering of red rooftops that were so unique to the region. But everywhere she looked there was nothing but rolling hills, valleys of trees, and occasional meadows. Although it was breathtaking to see, she found little joy in the view. Annika liked to think of herself as a confident person, but for the first time in a long time she began to feel afraid. Not only because she was lost in the wilderness of a foreign country, but she was already running low on water and completely out of food, and what if a bear found her before a person did? It didn’t matter how long she’d studied martial arts, not if that bear weighed five times what she did.

She noticed a small stream running below her, so she climbed down the hill and decided to follow it. Wherever there was water, there was bound to be a town sooner or later. She tried to be optimistic. At least the warm sun was shining and she had plenty of music to keep her distracted.

The stream wasn’t a mighty river, but the water was crystal clear. She licked her dry lips in hesitation, then ultimately decided that the risk of giardia was worth quenching her thirst. The water was cool, and she swallowed it in greedy gulps before filling her empty bottle. She looked up and saw a blonde girl in a long white shirt and green sash sneaking down the other side of the river as though she didn’t want to be seen.

“Hey! Wait up! I’m lost!” Annika called out. The blonde turned around and sure enough, it was the same girl from the bookstore. Annika threw her bag over her shoulders and ran after her, but the girl didn’t stop. She chased her along the stream for at least half a mile where they came to a small waterfall. In front of it was a pool of turbulent water, surrounded by a fine mist. The black rocks surrounding it gave Annika the feeling that it was a very private, sacred place. The barefoot blonde hopped across the stones with ease, but when Annika tried to jump, the rubber sole of her sneaker slipped on the slimy algae, sending her into the deep pool. The shock of the cold water and a sudden sharp pain in her ankle disoriented her, and she accidentally gasped, inhaling what now felt like liquid ice. This caused another surge of pain in her lungs and nose and head. Her waterlogged jeans and sweatshirt were weighing her down, but she forced herself to kick towards the sunlight far above her. Just when she thought she might not make it, her head broke the surface of the water. She grabbed ahold of one of the black rocks and clung on for dear life.

“Runa, hurry,” a female voice called from behind the waterfall. “It’s going to close any second! Get in here!”

“I know you remember me from the bookstore!” Annika yelled after coughing up most of the water that stung her nasal passages. “I think I broke my ankle! Come on! You’ve got to help me!”

The girl’s face was fraught and utterly torn as she stared at Annika.

“If you come with me now, I don’t think you’ll ever return!”

“I don’t care! You can’t just
leave
me here!” Annika shouted, angry and scared.

“Runa, hurry! It’s starting to close already! You have to come NOW!” two voices screamed urgently from behind the waterfall. Just as frantic, Annika hollered at Runa again.

“I’m going to drown if you leave me! You have to help me! Please!”

Runa looked nothing short of terrified, but she dutifully crept out to the rocks where Annika was struggling to keep her nose above the water. She reached down and pulled Annika out with unexpected strength. With her good leg and Runa’s arms guiding her along, she was able to scramble across the other rocks and get to the ledge under the falling water. A messy head of honey colored hair poked out and the other girl from the bookstore appeared, wearing a look of shock. She reached out, grabbed both Annika and Runa, and yanked them violently through to the other side. Annika landed on a hard, wet, stone surface. Her hip took some of the impact, but the pain was nothing in comparison to the fire she felt in her right foot. It hurt so much that she wanted to scream and curse, but she chose to scowl at Runa instead.

“Why did you run away from me?” Annika demanded. She proceeded to wring the water out of her long red hair but the blonde was silent. “Weren’t
you
the one chasing
me
down the street last month?”

“What in Badra’s name were you thinking, Runa?” the third woman’s voice scolded, sounding ready to boil over at any moment. Annika looked up to see a woman with long black hair and strong, toned muscles, who was dressed the same as Hilda and Runa. Although she was petite like the other two, she looked a bit older than them, and appeared somewhere on the brink of violence as she glared past her high cheekbones at them. The energy emanating from the woman made Annika bow her head slightly and turn away from her as well. She felt afraid to even look her in the eye.

Instead, she took stock of her surroundings now that her vision had adjusted to the darker light. They were in a narrow-mouthed cave that opened much wider in the middle. Through the dim light coming from a fire in the back and the light filtering in through the waterfall, Annika could see a cozy dwelling covered in thick rugs and pillows. This wasn’t any kind of hideout; this was definitely a home. It was actually pretty nice, for a cave.

“I cannot believe you, Runa,” the black-haired woman continued, speaking with such a severe tone that both Runa and Hilda hung their heads in shame. “You not only risked your life, but now you have risked ours as well! What are we supposed to do with her?” She turned away from the three wet girls like a disappointed parent. “And you’re not much better, Hilda. You should have let her fend for herself. You know you aren’t supposed to meddle in such things.” Annika felt her anger return, rising in the pit of her stomach. Before she could say anything, Runa beat her to it.

“Sariel, she’s the one I was telling you about! Just look at her,” Runa stammered. Sariel ignored the remark and walked towards the fire at the back of the cave, sitting sat down with her back towards the others.

“She’s your problem Runa, not mine,” she said callously from across the room. “And she’s yours as well, Hilda. You two can deal with her.” Annika moaned again in pain as a fiery hot bolt of pain shot through her ankle.

“I need to get to a doctor. Does anyone have a cell phone?” she asked. They just looked at her blankly.

“A
cell
phone?” Hilda repeated, like she’d never heard of one before.

“She means the little telephones without the string attached,” Runa explained before turning to Annika. “Those don’t work here.” Annika rolled her eyes. She was completely surrounded by morons.

“Will you drop the cosplay act already?” she growled through gritted teeth. “I need a doctor. My ankle’s killing me.”

“What you need,” Hilda said calmly, “is to take off your wet clothes before you catch a chill. I need to see your leg.” Annika threw off the soaked backpack and her hoodie easily enough, but peeling off her jeans was more of a challenge. Hilda helped her to a warm spot in front of the fire, where there was an abundance of soft pillows and woven blankets to lie about on. Runa gathered her soaked clothes and wrung them out before hanging them near the fire to dry.

“Are you a doctor?”

“I’m a healer. I can mend things like broken legs.” She stopped to give the ankle a soft squeeze, and Annika pressed her lips tight, masking her pain.

“Ah, not to worry. It’s not broken, but you aren’t going to be using it for a while. You might as well get comfortable,” Hilda said, tossing her a sheer white blouse like her own. It was made out of a strange fabric unlike any other. When Annika took off her t-shirt and put it on, it felt like wearing a warm cloud against her naked skin, yet weighed next to nothing. Noticing the curious look on her face, Runa piped up from where she stood next to the fire,

“It’s milkweed fluff woven with angora rabbit hair. Isn’t it wonderful? It’s so much softer than your modern clothes.”

Modern clothes?
thought Annika.
And they don’t even know what a cell phone is? Jeez, I hope these weirdos don’t make my ankle worse than it already is.

Runa had come over to make Annika more comfortable, propping her leg up on a pillow and stuffing more cushions behind her back. She proceeded to dry and braid her own hair while Hilda set about gathering dried herbs. It didn’t even seem like a cave anymore. It was a cheerful and cozy little place if you didn’t count the spot that Sariel was sulking in. Annika could see there were a few pieces of furniture scattered about, with wooden bowls and grass baskets overflowing with fruits and vegetables. There were numerous weapons that hung on the walls; three long bows, one petite sized sword, and three small knives with handles made of ebony. There was a soft grinding sound as Hilda ground the herbs using a small mortar and pestle. The hearth around the fire was so large that one of them could almost fit in it standing up. In fact, the only thing that wasn’t cheerful about the place was Sariel, who was standing against one side of the hearth, still ignoring the girls.

“So, uh, how long do you think before we can get back to Sofia?” Annika wanted to know. “I don’t have a clue where we are. I’m so lost it’s not even funny.”

“You don’t understand,” Sariel huffed, as though Annika were an idiot. “You
can’t
go back there. That was the choice you made when you entered our home. You said you didn’t care, remember?” Sariel turned around to cast her guest an icy glare, but it vanished immediately as she gasped, seeing Annika’s face for the first time. Her clenched jaw line grew soft, as did her mouth, and she lost all of her hostile essence as she rushed towards Annika and almost sank to her knees.

“Dear gods,” she gasped, “you
do
look just like Magda.” Sariel reached out a hand to caress Annika’s face tenderly, like a mother would touch her child. “But your hair is different.” Sariel’s eyes looked glassy, but she blinked before they could form tears.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Hilda said. “Let us see your waist.”

“What? No.”

“Humor us,” Sariel instructed. Annika slowly lifted the soft and warm blouse she wore to reveal her midriff. Her small audience leaned in for a closer look at a particular area above her left hip, almost smacking their heads together.

“It’s just a birthmark,” Annika said, and let go of the fabric. “It’s nothing special.” But they all continued to stare at her in disbelief.

“What’s wrong?” She was starting to feel slightly creeped out. The three women each lifted their own gauzy garments. It took Annika a moment to realize what she was seeing, and when she understood what it was, her heart skipped a beat and her skin erupted in goose bumps. They all had a similar version of the same birthmark above their left hip.