Winterfire

Chapter Eleven

Lif

I had my own bedroom, just across a short bridge from Mistress’s room. According to Mildred, it was one of the “smaller” rooms at Folkvanger, but it was nearly as large as my entire house in Beal. It had its own fireplace, which Erna kept burning all day. There were two tall, wide windows open to the world like those of the room below. The gentle breeze wafting in smelled of spring. I had not inhaled springtime air in three years. Where was this place? How far from home was I? I knew the ship had not sailed to the south, where some of the people of Beal had gone seeking warmer weather. I thought back to the journey. It had been cold and miserable until I’d gotten to the other side of the bridge. Again, I wondered if I were in heaven.

I spent the first several days in my room, sleeping or gazing into the treetops and watching the birds. Mistress told me I was free to go anywhere I wished, as long as I didn’t leave the tree, but getting acquainted with my new home seemed disloyal to my family, so I stayed put. I didn’t cry again, but I wanted to. Laying in my warm, soft bed, listening to the night sounds – frogs, crickets, and owls – it was hard not to think of my mother and father in their cold, hungry world. For the first time in many, many months, I was always warm and always had enough to eat. As comfortable and well fed as I was, I would go back to them in a heartbeat if I could. I had to get back to Beal.

Finally, though, I grew so bored and depressed I began to wander around the tree house, climbing staircases – I found others besides the one I’d come in on – crossing the bridges, and examining the rooms, all seventeen of them. There were at least a dozen other people in the tree house, and curiously, they all seemed to know my name. They were kind and courteous to me, but none, not even Erna, would answer my questions: Why am I here? Why can’t I leave? Why does everyone seem to know who I am? What is this place?

One day, in my rambling, I came across the only room whose windows faced behind of the tree. Far beyond the trees, I could just make out a harbor. There were boats in the harbor, and their numbers changed, meaning they were able to leave the harbor. Apparently, there was another way out of Asgard besides Heimdall’s basement. I thought that if I could just get to that harbor, I could sneak on to a boat and get away.

I rose before the sun a few days after my discovery, on the morning I’d chosen to flee. I wrapped some bread and pears I’d saved from my dinners in a bundle and tiptoed out my bedroom door. I’d not been outside the tree house since my arrival, but I remembered how to get out of the tree.  In just a few minutes, I reached the staircase and started down. The steps moved down on their own, but I stepped lightly down anyway. I was afraid the door would be locked at the bottom, but it opened easily when I laid my palm against the warm wood and pushed gently. I stepped through the opening and the door closed behind me with a solid thunk. I ran my hands over the door, searching in vain for the oddly shaped piece of bark Freyr had touched to open the door when we’d entered; in the dim, early morning light, I couldn’t see it, either. Now there was no turning back.

My heart pounded and I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. I had no experience sneaking around; I was not that kind of a person. If I could have returned to my room, I’m sure I would have. But I could only go forward. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and took a step forward in the darkness. I immediately bumped into something firm and warm and immoveable.

“Not so fast, little lady,” said a deep, unfamiliar male voice. I found myself lifted off my feet. I tried unsuccessfully to twist out of the man’s grip. I kicked my legs wildly but never felt my feet connect.

“Put me down!” I spit out the words in as stern a voice as I could. “Mistress Freyja will hear of this!” Of course, I didn’t consider Mistress a champion of mine, but perhaps throwing her name around would help.

“Not from me,” the voice assured me. I could hear a smile in his voice. I couldn’t get a good look at his face, but his form was tall and broad. He was not Freyr or Heimdall, the only men I could recognize in this place. He turned me around easily and set me down on the ground facing the door. I spun back around as soon as my feet hit the ground, thrust my bundle at him, and tried to run. He snatched me up as if I were of no more weight or consequence than a kitten and deposited me in front of the door once more, and, once more, I turned and ran.

I headed for the woods behind the hemlock. I hadn’t had a good look at the man, but I figured he must be big, since when I’d thrust my clothing at him, I’d hit him just above the belt. Big people moved slowly. I was quick; I knew I could escape. All I had to do was get to the harbor. Surely, there’d be a place to hide there until I could board a ship.

I began to tire before I’d even made it around the hemlock. It was bigger on the ground than it looked from above. My breath came harder and harder; the cool early morning air tore into my lungs. Twice, I slipped on the dewy grass and fell, but I bounced right back up again and kept running. If only I’d run like this when the Danes had come after me, I thought, I’d be home with my mother and father right now, instead of trying to escape from a giant.

My legs began to feel wobbly as I at last rounded the hemlock. I didn’t turn around to see if the giant was behind me The harbor was ahead of me, and that was all I considered.

I didn’t pause for a second, although I had no idea where I was going. It was quiet in the forest, and except for my own ragged breathing, I heard nothing. No heavy steps behind me, no snapping twigs. From above, in the tree house, I’d seen perhaps a hundred trees between me and the harbor, but it had not seemed so far then. Here on the ground was a different story. Wet branches, sticky with pinesap, scratched my face. My clothes were wet and my hands felt grimy, but I ran. I startled a crow on a branch beside me, and it cawed loudly as it flew off. I turned my head just for a second to look at it and smashed headfirst into a tree.