Winter's Child (12 page)

“It’s also the way to hurt innocent people or make enemies,” I observed.

The girl did not reply. She took the pan off the tripod and poured its contents into a mug. Then she brought the mug over to me.

“Drink this,” she said. “It will help to ease the pain in your head.”

“How do I know it’s not poison to put me out of my misery completely?” I asked waspishly.

She grinned. “You don’t. But I suggest you drink it anyhow. It really will help you feel better.” I accepted the mug, and she sat down beside me. “My name is Petra,” she said after a moment, as if making a peace offering.

I took a cautious first sip, grimacing as the hot liquid burned my tongue. The taste was bitter, but not so unpleasant that I couldn’t bear it. I took several more sips. Petra was right. After a few moments, my head did begin to feel better.

“I’m Grace,” I said, offering my name in return. We sat in silence for several moments.

“Now tell me the truth,” Petra said. “How many of you are there?”

“I already told you. I’m alone.”

She made a disbelieving sound. “You’re a city girl. It’s written all over you,” she said. “Why would you come on your own into the mountains?”

“I’m following a friend,” I said.

“Oh, I see!” Petra exclaimed at once. “You mean a sweetheart.”

“No! Well, not exactly,” I said. I set the mug on the ground. “It’s complicated.”

“Sweethearts are always complicated,” Petra said. “But if he’s jilted you, then it is much more straight-forward. He must be caught and punished. Do you
have no father or brothers to do this for you?”

“No, I don’t,” I said. “And Kai didn’t jilt me. He ...”

All of a sudden, I jumped to my feet. Adrenaline surged through my body. “The footprints!” I cried.

Petra got to her feet. “What footprints?” she demanded. “What are you talking about?”

I ignored her. Instead, I dashed from one side of the campground to the other, searching the ground. Kai’s footprints were nowhere to be seen.

I had lost the trail. I had no way to follow Kai and the Winter Child.

F
OURTEEN

I gave a low moan and sank to my knees, my face in my hands. What was I going to do now? I hadn’t even been gone a day, and I had already lost the trail.

“Stop that,” Petra said. She gave my shoulders a rough shake. “Stop it right now. That’s a disgraceful way to behave! As if you had no courage at all.”

“You don’t know what I’m up against,” I said fiercely, as I raised my head. “You don’t know anything about me.”

She extended a hand. “Then tell me. Quickly, before Papa and Harkko return.”

I took the hand she offered and let her pull me to my feet. Together, we walked over to the fire. Petra gave the contents of a cast-iron pot a stir.

“Now then,” she said.

I took a deep breath, and told her.

“I take back what I said about you not having any courage,” Petra remarked when my tale was over. “You’re either the bravest or the most foolish person I ever laid eyes on. No one can do what you’re attempting. No one can follow the Winter Child.”

“I was doing a pretty good job of it,” I said, “until your brother hit me over the head.”

“I’m sorry,” Petra said, and I heard the honesty in her voice. “There was no way to know. What will you do now? Will you go back to the city?”

I considered this for a moment. “No,” I answered slowly. “I’ll continue north, I guess. Surely I’ll come to the land of ice and snow, if only I can walk for long enough.”

“I wonder,” Petra said, her expression thoughtful. Without warning, she stood. She marched over to the tent and disappeared inside it. A moment later, she returned with something slung over one shoulder.

“My pack!” I cried.

“
My
pack, I think you mean,” Petra replied calmly.

“You’re nothing but a thief!” I cried.

“My people prefer the term ‘bandit,’” Petra said in the same infuriatingly calm tone. “It’s so much more romantic, don’t you think?”

“It amounts to the same thing,” I said. “You take what isn’t yours.”

“But as soon as I’ve taken it, it
is
mine,” she replied. “Be quiet now. That isn’t what I want to talk about. I want to talk about how you and I can help each other.” She resumed her position beside me.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” I said sullenly.

“Of course you don’t. I haven’t explained it yet.” Petra opened the pack and rummaged through its contents. After a moment she pulled out my grandmother’s shawl.

“Did you steal this?” she asked.

“Of course not!” I replied. “I made it for my grandmother. I did the embroidery myself.”

Petra leaned in close, thrusting her face right into mine. “You made these stitches?” she asked fiercely. “You’re telling me the truth?”

“I’m telling you the truth,” I said. “Now
you
tell
me
why you want to know.”

Petra sat back, Oma’s shawl in her lap. After a moment she leaned forward and draped it over my shoulder. With one foot, she scooted the pack over until it rested in front of me.

“I’ve lived in that tent all my life,” she said, jerking her head in its direction. “Traveling with my family from place to place, taking what we need to survive. I’m tired of it, so tired I could scream. I want a
real
home. A home with four walls and a bed. I’ll never get one as I am now. But if I could do fine work like that ...”

“You could earn a good living in the city,” I said, grasping her point at once. “It’s what I used to do. But it didn’t happen overnight. It takes time.”

“I’m already good with my needle,” Petra insisted. “I have to be, don’t I? Who else would do the sewing?
I just don’t know how to do fancy work like that.”

“If I teach you, what will you offer in return?” I asked.

“What you need to know to continue your journey,” Petra answered. “I will teach you how to find your way by the light of the stars.”

By the time Petra’s father and brother had returned to camp, we had settled things between us. I would teach her the embroidery stitches she would need to know to do fancy needlework. She would teach me how to follow the North Star. The first, we would explain to her father. The second, we would keep to ourselves.

“Papa will want to keep you with us,” Petra explained as we worked together to prepare the evening meal. “Particularly once I am gone.”

“Wait a minute. What do you mean once you’re gone?” I exclaimed.

“Shhh,” Petra said. “Keep your voice down!”

From across the campground, Petra’s brother lifted his head to gaze in our direction. Then he lowered it again, returning his attention to the snare he was mending. The falcon sat on a wooden perch nearby. The falcon’s return had been the signal that Petra’s father and brother were approaching the camp.

I did not like the look of Petra’s brother, Harkko. His face was sullen and brooding, like an overcast sky before a storm. Both Petra’s father and brother were harsh-featured. They did not speak much. When
they’d first returned to camp, Petra’s father had come directly to me.

“You will tell me the truth, if you know what’s good for you,” he’d said. “You are traveling alone?”

“I am traveling alone,” I had said.

He’d given a grunt. “Then you are foolish but not a liar. I could find no other tracks. Make yourself useful and we’ll see what I decide.”

After that he had gone about his business and had ignored me.

“Tell me what you’re talking about,” I whispered to Petra now.

She gave the stew a quick stir. “Papa wants to marry me off to old Janos’s favorite son,” she said in a low voice. “This would give our family the right to trade in the flatlands. We could come down out of the mountains.”

You mean you could steal in the flatlands,
I thought. “But you don’t want to get married,” I said aloud.

Petra gave a snort. “Not to old Janos’s son. He’s a brute. Compared to him, Harkko is a sweetheart. Hand me that plate.”

I complied. She began dishing out stew. “I don’t suppose it occurred to you to mention this before now.”

“It’s something else I’m teaching you,” Petra answered.

“Oh really, and what would that be?” I asked.

She handed me the stew-filled plate. “How to drive a hard bargain. We’ll talk to Papa after dinner,”
she went on. “He’s always in a better mood when his stomach is full. We will tell him this skill you offered to teach me will increase my value as a bride. Say this is how you will earn your keep until we reach the far side of the mountains.”

“And what happens then?” I asked, intrigued by her plan in spite of myself.

“That’s when you will go your way, and I will go mine. Though that is something we will not mention to Papa, of course.”

“No,” I said. “Of course not.”

After dinner, Petra approached her father and explained what I had offered.

“What good will it do you to know such a thing?” he demanded. He turned his head and spat into the fire. “You will have no time for it. We are not town dwellers.”

“But your daughter’s marriage will mean you will be able to spend more time in the towns, will it not?” I somehow found the courage to speak up. Petra’s father turned his dark eyes on me.

“What is on your mind?” he asked. “Speak up.”

“In the course of my work,” I said, “I was often called to my patrons’ homes. Often they were in the finest parts of town. No one questioned my right to be there. Within reason, I could come and go as I pleased. With this new skill, your daughter would be able to do so, as well.”

Petra’s father narrowed his eyes and I held my breath.
Now he knows that I see them for who they really
are,
I thought. But if I could get Petra’s father to believe the skill I could teach her would be an asset ...

“Perhaps you have more sense than I gave you credit for,” Petra’s father said at last. “Teach my daughter well.”

“I will,” I promised.

I had a feeling my life just might depend on it.

F
IFTEEN

I traveled with Petra’s family for a week, as we wound our way through the mountains. Though my situation was still precarious, more than once I wondered what I would have done without them. The mountains were much more rugged than I had ever dreamed. No longer having Kai’s footsteps to guide me, I might never have found my way across them.

Early each morning and after dinner each night, I showed Petra how to master the elaborate stitches she desired. Once her father and brother had fallen asleep, she taught me about the stars. She showed me how to look for moss on the north side of a tree. Most of all, she provided the bolster my courage needed as I prepared to go on alone, without Kai’s footsteps to guide me. In the space of a week, she had gone from being a captor to being a friend.

Nor was Petra the only friend I made during this
time. Though he would go off during the day, when the falcon was in camp, he often stayed close by my side.

“I think he’s taken a shine to you,” Petra observed on what would be our last evening together. The following morning, our group would come down out of the mountains. Both Petra and I would need to make our escapes that night. Her father and brother had not yet returned to camp. These would be our last few moments alone.