The Misadventures of Annika Brisby (22 page)

“A what?”

“A polyglot,” he repeated with a modest smile. “It’s someone who speaks multiple languages, and does so quite well. Now there are gates or bridges between your world and ours, although I believe you’ve referred to them as portals. Regardless of what you call them, they all lead to corresponding locations between the two planets. Typically they’re located inside or at least somewhat near older cities.” He pointed to a scattering of seven blue stones embedded into the globe, and put his fingertip on one of them. “For example, this is London, and here’s Paris. Those are the gates we pass through most frequently. Sometimes we use the ones in Prague or Jerusalem. It all depends on the reason for the visit.”

“What about the portal in Sariel’s cave? I don’t see it on your globe.”

“That one’s undisclosed, as are many others,” he said with a grin. “The seven you see here are the only ones officially known the public. They’re regulated by our government to keep things in order.”

“I thought that was just stuff you read about in sci-fi books,” she sighed in wonder. “And now the portals are closing between the different worlds, right?”

“As far as I’m aware, they’re all inaccessible. It’s very troubling because they’re closing without warning, and you and Asbjorn aren’t the only travelers who’re missing. We have yet to find out who’s responsible, so hopefully Konstantin will have some useful information that will bring both of you back home.”

“Wow,” she sighed, trying to comprehend all he’d told her. She returned to gaze at the granite wall, and stared at her name burned into the stone. The glowing had faded, but the permanence was impossible to ignore. Finn came to stand beside her, studying her name on the wall the way one studies a Rembrandt at the Louvre.

“You really are between two worlds, aren’t you?”

“It seems that way,” she agreed.

“I have something you’ll be interested to see.”

He walked over to the ladder mounted to the track along the bookshelves and climbed halfway up, pushing from shelf to shelf with his foot. Finally he stopped at a row of books that he pulled down, revealing that it was only a façade for a secret drawer, from which he withdrew a glass case. He climbed down carefully and set it on his desk, and as Annika came to have a look, she saw a very tattered thing lying under the dusty glass cover. Finn sat on the corner and patted the space next to him before opening the case.

“You’re going to love this,” he said as Annika hopped up and scooted closer to him. The book hiding inside the case looked like it would disintegrate at any moment. As if he’d read her thoughts, he remarked, “I really need to preserve this better. I keep thinking it will last forever, but its age is definitely starting to show.” He opened the cover gingerly, revealing a text in a forgotten language on one page and a beautiful drawing of a young boy on the other.

“Already it is Gudrun’s tenth birthday,” Finn read in his soft, deep voice. “I mistakenly thought he would take his time growing as Althea’s firstborn is, but he is sprouting like a weed. He will be a man in just a few short years. I fear the mortal life I have chosen for myself and for him, but I must remain strong. I can feel this body dying all around me, but my son should know who his mother is. He should know what his mother was.”

He glanced over at Annika, and then carefully turned another page. Her image was staring right back at her, immortalized in fading charcoal. There was something sad and mysterious about her expression. At first Annika thought it was some kind of elaborate joke, but Finn wasn’t laughing. His expression was far away, even though he was gazing right at her.

“What was it that your dad didn’t want you to tell me?” she softly implored. “What’s this prophecy about?”

Finn looked into her eyes, at a loss for words. It seemed bittersweet, whatever it was, because even though he tried to smile, she could see that behind his large curls his eyes were watering up. His hand reached out to hold her face, because he unable to believe how much she resembled the drawing lying in front of them. The likeness was real; his hand did indeed rest on something tangible. He leaned in closer, reading her soul, studying it closely with his scholar’s eyes. He lifted one hand to stroke her hair and cradle her cheek.

“Annika, you mustn’t tell anyone about this…” he implored, to which she nodded. He moistened his lips and took a soft, hesitant breath, but it was a venomous voice that broke the silence.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Annika jerked her head around and smacked it hard against Finn’s jawbone. Her eyes immediately began to sting as she clutched her forehead.

“Oh you poor thing…that had to hurt,” Finn winced, and gently brushed her hair back to see the damage he’d done.

She peeked through her fingers to see Talvi standing there, stewing and steaming, with an incredulous look on his face.

“Apparently you’re too busy to help me with dinner,” he spat.

“Actually we are. Give us a moment, would you?” Finn countered with more than a hint of agitation in his voice. Ignoring his brother, he turned to Annika and placed his hand lightly on her forehead.

“Take all the time you need!” his brother snapped. “I’ll personally see to it that no one disturbs you!” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy doors behind him.

“Shit,” Annika muttered and looked up at Finn. “That must have looked pretty bad.” Finn simply shook his head.

“Pay him no mind. He can be so astonishingly melodramatic that it’s become rather expected. How does your head feel?”

“It’s better. It’s actually a lot better! Elves must have a magic touch,” she said with a grin.

“You could call it that.” A tender smile sat on his lips. “Now where were we? Ah yes…your greatest grandmother had a flair for capturing likenesses.” They looked back at the book and Finn turned the page again. There were the faces of Hilda, Runa and Sariel.

“I can’t believe she kept a journal just like I do,” she remarked.

“She had others, but this is all we have left of her.”

“Why do you have it here? Why not give it to Sariel?”

“She brought it to us a long time ago, thinking it would be safer here. She was reading it so often that the pages were beginning to disintegrate. She felt that having limited access would force her to preserve it longer. It’s quite miraculous that it’s survived all this time.”

They took their time looking through the book, and Finn translated all of the old writings and shared what stories he could tell about Magda and her life. Annika was taken away to a harsh world of raising a family among raucous men, with husbands away on long journeys at sea and cruel winters when there was little to eat. It was difficult for her to see why Magda had willingly entered into such a life, except for the moments where she doted on her beautiful and beloved children.

And as much as she enjoyed the family history lesson with Finn, there was still that unanswered question that Talvi had stopped Finn from answering. Out of respect she didn’t ask him again, and out of feigned forgetfulness, he conveniently didn’t mention it again.

the healing powers of banitza

After exhausting every fiber of Magda’s journal, Annika and Finn headed for the kitchen, where the twins were bickering with each other. As soon as they entered the room, Talvi and Yuri clammed right up. Yuri seemed in a fine mood as she busied herself near the hearth across the kitchen, but her brother still acted aloof towards both Annika and his older brother.

“You said you needed help?” she asked him.

“Here,” he said gruffly, shoving a large basket of tomatoes and cucumbers between Annika and his brother. “You can chop these up for the salad.” He stared at her cruelly, making her feel beyond uncomfortable before he walked away to join his sister.

“He’s just jealous,” Finn whispered in her ear after his brother was out of earshot. “He thinks you should only pay attention to him.”

“Is that so?” she whispered back.

“Yes. It’s driving him mad that you aren’t falling all over yourself trying to make him notice you.”

“You mean like that girl last night?” she hissed. Finn stifled a snort.

“Yes. And if you’re ever as obnoxious as Zenzi, I’ll personally lock you in the cellar,” he hissed back. This time it was Annika’s turn to laugh.

“Like I would complain about that,” she laughed, fantasizing about the endless supply of wine she would have full access to.

“Oh, don’t get too excited. I wouldn’t give you a bottle opener,” he clarified. She punched him in the arm playfully as Talvi glared at them from across the room.

They scraped their piles of chopped cucumbers and tomatoes into a large bowl and Finn went down to the cellar for the wine. Annika quickly found her way around the kitchen and was dousing the salad with oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Talvi watched over her shoulder for a minute, shaking his head in disapproval.

“That’s too much vinegar. And not enough salt. You’re going to ruin the whole thing,” he nitpicked. She didn’t look up at him right away.

“Then you don’t have to eat any of it,” she said quietly.

“This is my dinner as well, and you’ve bloody ruined it. And you cut the cucumber pieces far too small. Why did I think you could cook? I suppose you modern girls don’t really know how unless it involves ringing your nearest takeout restaurant. Perhaps my brother can show you how an oven works, but if I left
you
two in charge of dinner it would never get done,” he said with a stinging, malicious tongue. That was it; that was the last straw. She set the saltshaker down hard on the counter and turned to him.

“What is your problem, anyway?” she demanded. “At my uncle’s house I cooked for eight full-grown men almost every night, and they happened to love everything I made. They’d never dream of talking to me the way you are now, so what gives you the right? I didn’t ask to come here! I just want to go home!” Talvi’s eyes widened, but no retort came forth. “And for the record, I didn’t cut up the cucumbers! Finn did!” Annika added. She looked away from him and saw Finn standing in the cellar door, the samodivi were frozen at the kitchen entrance and Yuri’s eyes were as wide as both her brothers. Talvi looked down his nose at her incredulously and rushed past the nymphs, with Yuri following close behind.

Annika turned away from her audience and sank against the cupboard onto the floor, trying unsuccessfully to hide as the stinging tears crept into her eyes. With a shudder of anxiety, they overflowed to a full blown bawl. She couldn’t keep it in anymore, and she didn’t care who heard her cry. She didn’t ask to be treated like this, and she knew she didn’t deserve it. She wanted to be a tiny thing, like a particle of dust in the air. She wanted to disappear, and most of all, she wanted to be home. She felt a soothing pair of arms around her back and glanced down to see a small pair of feet at her side.

“Don’t be upset over his words. You were right to stick up for yourself,” Runa said softly, kneeling beside her and patting her back. Annika wiped her wet cheeks on her sleeve and looked at her friend.

“Why did he have to be such an asshole?” she sniffed, trying not to sob anymore.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him act so horrid. Well, maybe when he was forty,” said Runa. Annika mustered a smile and Runa pulled her up to where Hilda, Sariel and Finn were standing.

“This will cheer you up in no time,” he said, filling a small glass from an ornate bottle.

“You can’t make everyone’s problems go away with pixie dust and fairy brandy, Finn,” Hilda said with a frown. “You’re clever enough to know that’s not the answer.”

“Of course I know that, Hilda,” he said cheerfully. “But I can’t think of a better excuse than my brother’s recently abhorrent behavior to require a rare sampling of Father’s collection. I think this one is made from peaches.” His reply seemed to make perfect sense to Hilda, who reached for her glass with more enthusiasm. Annika took a sip and was surprised by the sweet, fiery trail it left running down her throat.

“That’s not like any brandy I’ve ever had, but it’s damn good,” she confessed, turning the glass around in her hand. Finn filled her glass once more and then corked the exquisite bottle.

“You know, Annika,” he sighed and leaned against the countertop. “I really do like having you around. I think my brother has finally met his match.”

“How so?” she sniffled, and wiped away the last of her tears. “Because I don’t let him disrespect me?”

“You’re very different from the other girls that have chased him around.”

“I don’t chase men,” she said defensively.

“I’ve noticed. We all have,” Finn continued. Hilda and Runa both nodded. “I surmise that’s why he’s so taken with you, because you don’t pursue him. You make him seek you instead, and he’s never had to do that before. He doesn’t know what to do, because his old methods aren’t working.”

“It’s true,” Sariel agreed. “That’s why he was so cruel to you just now, because he fancies you so much that it scares him. I’ve never seen him so stirred up over a female.” Runa nodded in complete agreement.

“He
likes
me?” Annika was totally surprised. “Like, in
that
way?”

“Isn’t it obvious that he’s smitten with you?” Hilda asked, but Annika shrugged.

“I didn’t think he was capable of having genuine feelings for anyone but himself,” she muttered. She still wanted to know more about what Yuri had said about him adding an American girl to his to-do list, but she wasn’t about to ask in her present company. Hilda pursed her lips in frustration.

“That’s a misconception. You don’t know him the way we do,” she said. “You can’t see the forest for the trees. Speaking of the forest, remember the day after he met us in the woods, when we were shooting targets?” Annika nodded slowly as she recalled that day not too long ago. “He was very insistent that we find some excuse to leave you alone with him so he could talk to you. We didn’t
really
need more wood,” Hilda said with a smile.

“Did you know that he went back to look for you after that day at the bookstore?” Finn asked her. “We urged him not to return, since we knew that the gates could close at any time without warning, but he insisted. He simply
had
to find the saucy American lass he’d met in Sofia. Good gods…the way he carried on…” Finn shook his head and smiled to himself. Annika wasn’t sure if it was the two glasses of fairy brandy or something else warming her insides, but she was leaning towards something else.

“When he tackled you and you kicked him off like it was nothing…why, that was the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time!” Runa laughed. “Did you see the look on his face?” Annika was feeling better already.

“Yeah, that was pretty funny,” she agreed. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that look again. Maybe I’ll show him that I know
exactly
what the inside of an oven looks like. Do you have any sheep’s cheese and some yogurt?”

“Yes…why?” Finn asked curiously.

“Oh, just let me try something out. I think you’ll like it,” she said, feeling her confidence bolstered by her new friends. The kitchen quickly became a happy place again as the brandy poured freely and everyone began to chat about their days’ activities. Finn and the others busied themselves with the rest of the dinner courses, while Annika beat fresh eggs and mixed them with the cheese and yogurt. In two large pans she layered thin sheets of dough with the mixture and baked it until it was crisp and golden on top.

They set the table and the rest of the family came wandering in. Ambrose sniffed the air from the head of the long table.

“What is that I smell? Is it what I think it is?” he wondered with a curious look in his eyes.

“You’ll see soon enough!” Runa chimed. She lit the chandeliers while Hilda set the mysterious dish in front of Finn, who at once cut it into ten pieces and served everyone except his brother. The tenth piece he divided in half for the children.

“Why didn’t I get any of that?” Talvi said, feeling slighted.

“You wouldn’t like it,” Hilda said after a delicate bite.

“It’s terrible,” Sariel said after a larger bite.

“Oommph,” Runa mumbled with her mouth crammed full of hot, flaky pastry.

“Oh you’ll hate it. We know how much faith you have in Annika’s culinary skills,” Finn said with a grin, making Talvi’s eyes flash. Ambrose gave the brothers a questioning look but said nothing. The samodivi were trying not to laugh too hard as they could see Talvi desperately biting his tongue. He’d been bested, and he hated that they all knew it. Even Yuri, bound as she was by loyalty to her twin, couldn’t help stifling a snort.

“Why Annika, I didn’t know you could make
banitza
! I haven’t had this in ages,” Ambrose marveled, quite impressed. He sighed in pleasure as he sank his teeth into the hot pastry, and devoured it before all the other dishes.

“Well I make it fairly often at home. From
scratch
. In an
oven,
” she replied emphatically, looking right at Talvi. But he was avoiding her gaze at all cost.

“I’d give you a permanent room here if you made this for me just once a week,” Ambrose told her with a satisfied smile. “And the salad is quite good tonight. There’s usually too much salt and not enough vinegar. I swear I could drink vinegar straight from the bottle!”

“Sometimes you do, Father,” Finn reminded him, unable to hide his bright white grin. Talvi looked like he was going to die of embarrassment right then and there as a scarlet shadow crept from his cheeks to the tip of his softly pointed ears. His lips were pressed together so hard that there was only a thin line across his face. Runa burst out laughing, and Hilda and even Sariel joined her.

“What is so amusing, girls? Have you had too much to drink already? I happen to know someone was in my special fairy brandy,” Ambrose inquired, but no one would tell him the real reason. Anthea and Althea exchanged glances with Finn, who was telling them telepathically of Talvi and Annika’s spat in the kitchen. They knew, but they only smiled sweetly.

“Talvi, you look ill. Why aren’t you eating? Are you not feeling well?” his mother asked, feeling his forehead with her hand, but he didn’t say a word. “You must be getting a fever—goodness you’re warm!” Runa broke out in a new round of laughter at this comment.

“You look like you need to lie down, son. At least step outside and get some fresh air.”

“Gladly!” he growled at his mother, and threw down his napkin before leaving the table.

“Would you like to hear something interesting?” Ambrose asked his wife and daughters once the giggles had died down. “There’s really no sense in keeping it under wraps.”

“What is that, dear?” Althea replied.

“Today a new name was added to Sariel’s family tree.” A few forks clattered on the ceramic plates and Runa squealed in joy.

“I knew it! I knew it had to be true!”

“Annika, that is delightful news!” Hilda exclaimed.

“So we really do have a long lost sister!” Runa cried, hugging Annika so tightly that she almost choked. Sariel looked at Annika with faraway eyes, and her gaze was softer than it had ever been, but that sadness was still visible. Annika didn’t see Althea clasp her husband’s hand underneath the table, or the expression on her face. It was similar to the bittersweet look that Finn wore earlier in the library. While Hilda and Runa ran through brief histories of some of the names that lead Annika to them, Sariel and the eldest of the Marinossians remained fairly quiet. Yuri was the quietest of all; she didn’t crack a smile or utter another word for the rest of the meal.