Thief Eyes (18 page)

For several heartbeats Ari didn’t speak. The fog made the world seem very small, just the two of us in a gray cocoon. I stared at the mist clinging to Ari’s white eyelashes, wondering what it would be like to kiss him now, with all my memories intact.

“This rescuing thing—I think maybe you’re better at it than me,” Ari said at last. He pulled up a tuft of wet moss, examined it thoughtfully. “So we have two problems—sending the coin back to Hallgerd, and stopping you from setting off earthquakes everywhere you go.”

“The coin first.”

Ari nodded. “Is there anything in Mom’s notebook for this?”

“I don’t know. I kind of got stuck on the page about turning bears back into boys, you know?” I unzipped the
pack and pulled out the notebook. The pages weren’t smudged and swollen like Ari’s notebook had been. Of course not—Katrin had used one of her waterproof field notebooks. The paper was a little wrinkled, nothing more, and the words were clear. She’d probably used a waterproof pen as well. She’d done all she could to make sure I wouldn’t lose the words she’d translated.

I flipped past the pages I’d already read.
A spell for restoring one’s own memory
. I wondered whether we could apply that to the entire island—but the spell had to be cast by the one who’d forgotten.
A spell for returning berserks to their true form
.

The spell for sending back the coin
. I stopped and read that spell. There was a list of things it needed, like the ingredients in a recipe book.
A wooden bowl. A black fire stone
. (
Lignite
, Katrin called it in parentheses.)
A raven’s claw
. All the things Svan had given me, only he’d given them to me for a different spell, one I had no intention of casting. A spell that also needed—

“Shit.”

Ari looked to where I was pointing in the spellbook.
The blood of a white fox
, it said.

“This spell needs it, too.” I pressed my lips together. There had to be another way.

“Wait.” Ari pointed to the bottom of the page, where in smaller script a note read:
If the spell’s hold is not too tight, strong drink may substitute for blood
.

“How the hell are we supposed to know if the spell’s hold is too tight?”

Ari shrugged. “I don’t know, but I think it’s good you didn’t spill all that mead.”

I pulled the mead from the pack. It felt about half full. Would pouring it into a bowl count as spilling it? Freki’s warning had been against letting it touch the earth. At least we knew it was strong.

It had to work. No way was I casting the spell otherwise.

Ari frowned. “What if we call your Jared, have him call my mom and ask her what to do?” Ari pulled his phone from his pocket and opened it. His frown deepened. “Battery’s dead.”

I returned the notebook and the mead to the pack. The fog remained thick around us. My eyelids grew heavy. I closed them, saw flames behind my lids, and forced them open again. I didn’t want to dream.

Ari glanced at my hands. They were shaking. “We’ll figure it out, Haley,” he said.

There was no way he could know that, but even so, his words made me feel a little better. I rummaged through the pack and pulled out a chunk of bread. I broke it in half, handed one half to Ari, and bit fiercely into the other. Food made me feel better, too. We were both starved, even though we’d eaten only a few hours before. We quickly went through everything but the granola.

After what seemed like hours the fog finally began to
thin. The sun grew low. The fog turned from gray to an eerie yellow that coated the stones around us. The sun touched the horizon.

Without warning Ari started cursing. His hands fumbled at the zipper of his jacket. “It’s the setting sun that causes it!” Ari scrambled to his feet, jacket halfway unzipped. I stood, too, reaching for him, but Ari shoved me back. “Get
away
.” His hands were all wrong, too large and too flat.

Ari gasped and fell to all fours. He threw back his head and roared, even as black leather flowed and melted. Leather gave way to fur, hands and feet to white paws, face to small eyes and long snout.

I didn’t run, though that roar echoed inside my chest. “Ari?” I kept my gaze on his green eyes.

The bear stared at me, trembling. I trembled, too. I’d watched enough nature documentaries to know the damage a bear’s claws could do. Yet a real polar bear would have attacked me by now.

The bear whirled from me and ran, disappearing over the stones into the fog.

“Ari!” I fumbled in my pockets for his handkerchief and realized he’d taken it back. I grabbed my pack and ran after him, shouting the words Svan had spoken:

I stopped short and waited. Ari didn’t return. Had he even heard? I made my way back to the roadside and sank to the ground. Maybe if I stayed in one place, Ari could find me. I drew my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth.
Alone
. Now I really was alone.

Darkness thickened around me. A bright moon rose, turning the fog silver. There wasn’t any wind. In the silence, the world seemed eerie and strange.

It wasn’t like anyone could hurt a bear, even if they could see him. Ari would be
fine
.

Damp fog tickled my neck. I suddenly wanted Mortimer, my stuffed wombat, more than anything. I thought of Mom, sewing and re-sewing all my stuffed animals for me. My chest felt tight.

My eyes began to close. I used my fingers to prop them open. No way did I want to dream here, alone in the dark and the fog. My heavy lids felt gritty and sore. I
had
to rest them, just for a moment.

It felt good to close my eyes, but that was okay—I just wouldn’t sleep.

I stood on a hillside beside a tower of gray blocks riddled with cracks. The sky was thick with clouds, the air silent and still, not a bird in sight. Quiet. Peaceful
. I’d stop the dream right here. I could stop it wherever I wanted.

A burning arrow flew through the air. I knew when that arrow landed, it would burn the world—No! I reached up
and caught the arrow in my hand. It burned, but I wasn’t afraid of pain
.

For a heartbeat, two heartbeats, everything was okay. Then a spark caught, somewhere inside me, a spark of fire that rose to meet the fire I held. Fire roared through my blood and burst through my skin. Cracks opened beneath my feet as I screamed. The fissures stretched on and on, toward the edge of the sea
.

“Free,”
a rough voice whispered, and the words burned, too.
“We will be free!”

I woke with a start, still screaming, drenched in sweat. The mist felt stiflingly hot. I leaped to my feet and backed away, knowing that even awake, I couldn’t escape my dreams. I heard a snuffling sound behind me, and I whirled around.

A huge white bear stared at me, bright in the moonlit fog, shaking as hard as I was. I looked at him. He looked back through bright green eyes.

“Ari?” My throat hurt from screaming.

The bear bowed his head. He lumbered toward me, then stopped, uncertain. I reached out and touched his wet nose, even as I thought about how stupid it was to just walk up and touch a bear—to touch any wild animal.

But Ari still wasn’t acting like a wild animal, and all my classes and internships and Web surfing had never covered bears who were also boys, anyway.
How could they leave
out a thing like that?
I gave a strained laugh. It turned into a sob, and once I started sobbing I couldn’t stop.

Ari nudged my chest with his muzzle. I threw my arms around his thick neck, still sobbing. His fur was cold and damp. I clung to it, feeling the burning memory of my dream subside. “How the
hell
did either of us get into this mess?” I demanded. Ari had no answer to that. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back,” I said, and cried until I couldn’t cry anymore.

I curled up on the ground then, and Ari stretched out beside me, watching me still. The fog was clearing at last, and up above the moon shone so brightly it hurt my eyes. I closed them and buried my face in Ari’s cool white fur, which felt coarse and soft and slippery all at once. I started drifting off, too tired to stop myself, even though maybe Svan’s spell to turn Ari human would have worked now.

“You’re not Mortimer,” I whispered to Ari, “but you’ll do.”

I slept once more, and for the first time since having arrived in Iceland—the first time since my mother had disappeared—I had no dreams.

Chapter 13

I
woke to a cold blue sky. An arm was draped over me, not a bear’s arm—a boy’s. Ari lay on his side, propped up on one elbow and staring at me through his human eyes as though he feared I’d disappear if he moved.

“You came back,” I said.

“Once I was sure I wouldn’t hurt you.” Wind tugged at his white hair. “Once I knew it was me in control, and not the bear.”

My throat still hurt, but I felt like I’d slept—really slept—for the first time in ages. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Ari’s mouth quirked into a smile. “So I managed to do something right, then?”

I made a strangled sound, half a laugh and half a sob. I put my hands slowly to his face and pressed my lips to his.
Heat rose in me. I didn’t know if it came from my magic or not. Ari’s lips were so soft. I reached for his hair, remembering that it was soft, too, as soft and coarse as his polar bear fur.

Ari drew away with a gasp and sat up. His own hands shook as he looked at me. “No,” he said, but he sounded uncertain.

What did he mean,
no
? I sat up, too. I remembered falling asleep, buried in his fur. He hadn’t minded then. “You didn’t mind in Muninn’s mountain.”

Ari looked right at me. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend then.”

He was right, I knew he was right—I didn’t want him to be right. What was wrong with me? Was I no better than Dad? “You chased the nightmares away.” I looked down, realizing how stupid that sounded.

Ari shut his eyes, as if my words had hurt him. “I won’t be the reason you break up with him.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“And if you don’t break up with Jared, I won’t be that guy you feel guilty about and try to pretend never happened. I’d rather go a little longer between girlfriends than be someone else’s stupid mistake. Or maybe you’d tell yourself I don’t count, because it was only Iceland, thousands of miles from your home—no, Haley.” He sounded more sure now.

“I’d never pretend you didn’t count,” I said, but I
couldn’t argue with the rest. I wanted to, though. Just like I wanted to kiss him again, not caring if it made sense or not. I jammed my hands into my pockets. The knuckles of my right hand brushed burning metal. The fire in me rose in response. I cursed and pulled my hands out, filling my mind with thoughts of cool moonlit polar bear fur. The heat subsided.

“Are you okay?” Ari asked.

“I’m
fine
,” I snapped.

Ari looked away from me. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and fiddled with it, as if the battery might decide it wasn’t really dead. Had Jared tried to call, after the battery had died?

It had taken Jared and me years to fall in love. How could I fall for Ari after only a few days? I got to my feet and pulled my backpack over my shoulders.

Ari shoved the phone back into his pocket, not looking at me. “We should start walking.”

I pictured hours and hours of walking, not looking at Ari, trying not to wonder what it would feel like to hold his hand, to touch his hair. I got to my feet and pulled on my backpack. “Let’s
run
,” I said, and burst into a jog without waiting for Ari to answer.

The pack bounced on my back—I didn’t care. Muscles stiff with sleep loosened as I ran, and I settled into a comfortable lope beside the water. Dirt turned to pavement—real pavement—beneath my feet. Around me the gray
stones were bright with autumn moss. Snow streaked the distant hills.

Behind me I heard Ari breathing hard. I slowed down, into the easier pace I used when running with Jared.
It doesn’t matter
, I told myself as my feet slapped the pavement, not sure if I meant Jared or Ari or both of them. All that mattered was getting to Hlidarendi, returning the coin, and figuring out what to do about the fire in me—if anything
could
be done about that.