Winterfrost (14 page)

Bettina was surprised.

“You know where to find his home?”

“It’s not far.” Klakke motioned to a narrow path barely visible at the base of the very same tree that had snagged him.

Together, they set out. When their tiny boots fell into step with one another, Klakke began to speak.

“Gammel sent you, I suppose,” he said.

“Well, yes. He said Hagen was certain that Pia was with the nisse named Ulf. And that Ulf would need my forgiveness for something he’d done to my family years ago. But, Klakke, I don’t know what to do when I find him!”

The young nisse shook his head. “Oh, what a fine mess I’ve created!”

The pair walked over crisp, frozen leaves, barely making a sound in the winter afternoon.

“I think I can help you, Bettina. There are some things you should know. For starters, Ulf once lived on Lolland, but he left years ago.”

Bettina nodded. Gammel had told her as much.

“Did you know Ulf ?” Bettina asked. “Were you friends?”

Klakke smiled, but the smile didn’t last long.

“Yes, I knew him. But, no, we weren’t exactly friends.”

“Oh.”

“We were — we are — cousins.”

“Oh!” Bettina was surprised.

“Ulf is older than me. He had a farm and a family to care for on Lolland. And he took his work quite seriously,” Klakke told her.

“So, Ulf wasn’t a woodland nisse but a barn nisse.”

“That’s correct. But then something happened. The worst that could happen to a barn nisse.”

Bettina pondered Klakke’s words. What was the worst that could happen to someone charged with caring for a barn filled with animals? Her eyes grew wide.

“Oh no! He did something to harm someone’s farm animals?”

“Well, yes, in a manner of speaking. His negligence led to an animal’s death. A very special animal. It was the farmer’s favorite horse.”

Bettina felt immediately sorry for the innocent horse and farmer. She adored horses. It was a passion passed down through generations of Larsens. Far was quite proud of Hans and Henrietta. And Farfar? Oh, Farfar had treasured every one of his horses. Most especially a beautiful white Arabian gelding named Kasper. Farfar had spoken of Kasper with such admiration and sadness, as Kasper had met an awful fate when someone left his stall unlatched one night . . .

The heart inside Bettina’s chest stopped beating for just a moment.

“Klakke, when? When was Ulf a barn nisse? And whose, Klakke? Whose nisse was he?”

Klakke sighed.

“Now you see why I must tell you this before you meet Ulf. Before I came to Lolland, he was your nisse. Well, not yours, exactly, as you were just a newborn when he left.”

Bettina’s pace slowed. Ulf was the Larsens’ nisse.

“Tell me more, Klakke. Tell me everything.”

“Well, Ulf cared for your family for nearly a hundred years. He knew your far when he was just a boy. And your farfar, too. He took care of the animals, slept in the very mow I sleep in now, watched out for the family. He was very conscientious.”

“How, then, did he forget to latch the horse’s stall?”

“That question is the very source of this conflict, Bettina.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Klakke.”

Klakke sighed. “Ulf maintains it was an accident. His father suspected otherwise.”

“Ulf’s father?”

“Ulf’s father, Gammel.”

Oh! Things were starting to come together. Ulf was Gammel’s son, Pernilla’s brother.

“And all this happened . . .” Bettina began.

“. . . twelve years ago,” Klakke finished.

“When I was born?”

“When you were born.”

Bettina had more questions, but Klakke had stopped walking.

“There it is.” He pointed to the tree before them.

“Where?” Bettina stared but saw nothing that looked like a nisse home. No dark doors beneath craggy roots. No small openings between the bark.

“I don’t see —” she began.

But then something caught her eye. A line. A very straight line among the curved lines of leaves and twigs. She narrowed her eyes and moved closer, and as she did, she gasped.

There, at the base of the tree, was a small brown nisse-size house. Its earthy colors blended perfectly with the surrounding woodland. Its roof sported a thin layer of frost. Upon closer inspection, Bettina realized that the roof was shingled neatly with row after row of perfectly laid pinecone scales. Ulf was as resourceful as every other nisse she’d met.

“This is it?” she asked Klakke.

Klakke nodded.

The tidy little bungalow seemed too neat and well kept to be the home of Ulf. Wasn’t he supposed to be disgruntled, unsociable? This place looked most hospitable. Maybe it was a trick. Like the witch’s candy cottage that lured Hansel and Gretel too close.

“Should we . . . should we knock?” Bettina asked.

“You do it,” Klakke urged. Of course, he wasn’t necessarily anxious to see Ulf. And Ulf couldn’t possibly be happy to see his younger cousin, who had taken over his duties with the Larsens.

Bettina hesitated no longer. The time had come. Klakke held his breath as she lifted the iron knocker and let it drop. From inside came a muffled reply.

“Come in.”

Bettina opened the door, and the two stepped inside.

The kitchen was surprisingly similar in design to Gammel’s. An empty fireplace, an elaborately detailed enamel stove, and a line of closed alcoves along one wall. But the place was darker and emptier. It lacked the warm, homey feeling that the nisse family had created in the house under the oak back on Lolland.

Bettina scanned the room for Pia but saw no sign of a baby. Or anyone else for that matter.

“Hello?” she called. “Is anyone here?”

“Back here,” came the same low voice.

Bettina and Klakke shared a look of apprehension before Klakke nudged her toward a long, narrow hall. Slowly they crept down the hallway until it opened into a large gray room, where a grapevine rocking chair sat before yet another fireplace. This fireplace was aglow with a roaring fire, but even that didn’t seem to bring much warmth to the room. A pair of brown-booted feet rested against the edge of the hearth and kept the creaking rocker in motion.

“That is Ulf,” Klakke whispered, pointing to the dark figure whose back was turned.

Then he ducked behind Bettina and hid.

The boots on the hearth abruptly stopped the rocker, and the mysterious Ulf stood to face his guests. Bettina could feel every muscle in her small body tense up. Behind her, she felt Klakke tremble.

Ulf was a bit taller than either Gammel or Hagen, and a good bit taller than Klakke. He was dressed in traditional nisse garb, minus a hat. Short gray hair, a bit disheveled, topped his head, and a short gray beard fell just below his chin. He was thinner than any of the nisse men, perhaps a sign that he lacked the good cooking of a kind nisse woman.

But it was his eyes that most set him apart from the others. They were small and round and blacker than the darkest of Danish nights. Bettina held his gaze for only a moment before looking quickly away. His eyes were as cold and empty as the room in which they stood.

“Bettina Larsen,” Ulf said flatly. “I knew you would come.”

“I didn’t have much choice,” Bettina answered hotly, then feared that she might anger the nisse with her temper.

His face showed no emotion. “You were sent.”

Once again, Bettina was faced with trying to discern a statement from a question. He seemed to know that Gammel had sent her.

“Yes, I was. I am here to find my baby sister,” she stated, trying to sound as if she had some control over the situation.

Ulf nodded. “In good time.”

Then he tipped his head to one side.

“I can see you back there, Klakke,” he said. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

Klakke slowly stepped out from behind Bettina.

“You can? Oh. Sorry,” he said shyly. “And, um, hello.”

“What are you doing here?” Ulf asked sharply.

Klakke stayed near Bettina for support.

“I . . . I had to find the . . . the baby,” Klakke stammered.

“Well, it seems you’ve succeeded.”

Ulf took a step to the side. Bettina gasped. There, behind the rocker, stood a wooden cradle much like Tika’s and Erik’s. In it, baby Pia slept soundly.

Bettina rushed to peer inside the cradle. Pia looked peaceful and content in the cozy cradle. She was swaddled in a thistledown blanket, as soft as the socks Bettina still wore.

“Pia!” Bettina whispered, mesmerized by her sister’s sweet face. She gently stroked the baby’s plump cheek, being ever so careful not to wake her. “I was afraid I’d never see you again!”

“Your sister is fine,” Ulf assured Bettina. “I have let no harm come to her.”

Bettina turned toward Ulf. “Why?” she asked. “Why did you take her from Klakke? What could you possibly want with a human baby out here? In this empty, lonely wilderness?”

Tears burned Bettina’s eyes as her anger pushed its way to the surface. It occurred to her that she may have just answered her own question. Had Ulf taken Pia for company? This dark and lonely cottage might only be made brighter with the laughter of a child, especially one as darling as Pia.

“We shall talk,” Ulf said.

Still leery, Bettina peeked once more at the peaceful Pia. Although she desperately wished to scoop up her sister and smother her with kisses, Bettina knew it was best not to disturb the sleeping baby until everything was resolved with Ulf and she could take her home for good.

Ulf motioned for Bettina to take the rocker, which she did. He planted himself on a hand-carved wooden stool. Klakke, strangely still and unusually silent, sat on the hearth close to Pia but far from Ulf.

There was a long pause. Bettina gazed at Ulf, who seemed uncertain how or even where to begin the necessary conversation.

Finally, he spoke.

“Not long ago — longer to your way of thinking than to mine — I lived happily on Lolland.”

“You knew my family.”

Ulf nodded. “Quite well. Not only knew the Larsens but cared for them. For two generations.”

Despite her best efforts, Bettina simply could not picture Ulf as a young, happy nisse, smiling, whistling, and going about his business on the farm. “And so you knew Farfar?”

At the mention of Farfar, Ulf’s face softened just a bit.

“Indeed. From the time he was a boy, your grandfather spoke to me, though he never once saw me. Every day, without fail, he came into the barn and greeted me. But then, many children acknowledge their nisse; it’s the adults who pretend we don’t exist. But your farfar was different, Bettina. Long after he abandoned his childish ways, after he grew to be a stout and sturdy man, he still talked to me daily.”

Ulf’s words came as no surprise to Bettina. Farfar had been absolutely certain about the existence of nisse in the forest and on the farm. And even when Bettina’s mother would cluck her disapproval over Farfar’s tales, Farfar would stand firm in his belief.

“Farfar believed in nisse,” she told Ulf. “He told me so many times.”

“Of course he did. Even though I never let myself be seen. That’s what made your farfar special, Bettina. He believed without seeing.”

“Farfar’s gone,” Bettina told Ulf. “Did you know?”

Ulf’s stoic face turned suddenly sad. It was a look just like the one Bettina had seen in her own mirror many times: Ulf also missed her grandfather.

“I did know. My sister sends word of important happenings on Lolland.” Ulf sighed. “I miss him, but I guess I’ve been missing him and the rest of the Larsen family for twelve years.”

Ulf glared at Klakke, who’d been uncharacteristically subdued.

“It wasn’t my fault they called me,” Klakke said, defending himself.

Ulf grumbled. “No, but they did, didn’t they? They called you to do the work I’d done, and done well, for many years. A young nisse like you!”

Klakke wasn’t going to take this sitting down. He stood up, tall and straight, and Bettina thought he looked altogether different from when he’d hid behind her just a short time before.

“It was your own carelessness that got you into trouble!” he snapped.

Horrified, Bettina glanced toward Ulf. How would the already-disgruntled nisse react to such an outburst from his younger cousin?

But much to her surprise, Ulf looked resigned. “It’s true,” he confessed. “I’ve never denied that I was to blame. But I still maintain that the punishment didn’t fit the crime.”

As much as she didn’t really want to take sides, Bettina had to admit that it seemed Ulf had been judged rather harshly for something that was an accident.

“I don’t understand why Gammel sent you away.”

“Oh, he didn’t send me anywhere,” Ulf said. “I left on my own. Out of anger. My father didn’t believe that what happened to Kasper was an accident.”

“But of course it was! You wouldn’t have let anything happen to Farfar’s horse on purpose. Right?” Bettina held her breath until Ulf answered.

“Of course not!”

Bettina let herself breathe again.

“Why, then, would your father believe you would? This is your chance, Ulf. Tell me your side of the story.”

Ulf shifted on his stool.

“All right, then. Twelve years ago, all was well at the Larsens’. I was doing my job just as I had done for a hundred years before. And the greetings from your farfar, Bettina, were the highlight of my day. Then one spring day, the younger Mr. Larsen and his wife brought home a new baby.”