Page 53 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

“I am Tuuli Ahonen, this is my husband, Timo. When you’re ready, we’ve got the ski dogs outside,” she said with a lilting accent. “I hope you don’t mind, but our PistenBully will not start.”

I tried not to laugh hysterically. “Ski dogs?”

As it turned out, their “ski dogs” were snowmobiles. Massive red ones big enough for Sasquatch to drive, which was appropriate considering Tuuli and Timo were both as tall as Griffon. Viking blood, obviously. Standing in the snow together, the three of them made me feel like a hobbit.

“Mr. Brookes can ride with Timo. You ride with me. Tie down tight,” she said, then handed me a face mask and a pair of goggles. She demonstrated how to put them on and cinch the earflaps down to hold it all in place. “Gloves?”

I held up my hands and she grabbed my mittens for a close look.

“The ends must be outside the coat, yeah?” She showed me hers. Not a chance of the wind seeping up her sleeves.

I copied her, then climbed on behind her. Her husband put my bag across her lap, then held Griffon’s across his knees before we took off into the cold darkness that threatened to swallow us whole.

I wondered if the authorities would find us in the spring when the snow thawed. Or maybe, in the Arctic Circle, nothing ever thawed…

18

Spinning Plates

Faith is a funny thing. You have to trust in order to grow it. And trust again. And again. And if you don’t keep that plate spinning, if you don’t keep feeding into it, you’ll lose it and have to start over.

Since I’d put my trust in a mysterious Scot nearly two years ago, I’d started a lot of plates spinning. I’d trusted him and was rewarded with more friends worthy of my trust. My trust in them earned me their trust, and together, we kept our plates spinning.

Then the other day, I’d stopped trusting them all together and ran from them. That spinning plate crashed and broke. But seeing them again, I learned the pieces were large and could be glued back together. I was willing to start that plate spinning again, though it might take a while for them to trust me.

I’d started to have faith in strangers, thanks to a man named Jamie Godstone, who’d had blind faith in me, a stranger. A man who trusted easily. And though he’d said friends were a compass to keep in your pocket, that compass wasn’t friendship, it was faith.

Thanks to Jamie, I was willing to have faith in these strangers and allow them to separate Griffon from me. I trusted them to keep me safe, to keep me alive, and to get us where we needed to go. Thankfully, I didn’t have to spin that plate for long.

The cold dragged out every minute the literal arctic air tried to sneak into my clothing, but the trip took less than twenty minutes. The clock in the restaurant claimed it was quarter to eight when we left, but the sun still wasn’t up, and we arrived at our rental with only eerie shadows to show us what we’d gotten ourselves into.

The cabin was called amökki—pronouncedmuh kee, but our landlady held on extra-long to the “k”. It had short walls made of vertical logs. The only window I could see was a large round one in the middle of the door. The roof had a dramatic pitch all around, presumably to keep the snow from accumulating. It draped over the edge of the low walls, and I wondered if these Vikings might only be able to stand straight in the middle of the house.

Griffon came over to collect my bag and take my hand, assuring me we were still together, and we followed our hosts inside.

Timo turned on a battery-powered lantern that hung just inside the door and lit the single room of the cabin. Shadows lurked behind every object and swayed back and forth until the lantern stopped swinging. I felt like I was back at girls’ camp.

A fire had been laid in a metal-ringed pit in the center. Five feet above it hung a funnel shaped hood for venting the smoke out the roof. Half of the left wall was occupied by a stack of fat logs. A box the size of a large doghouse contained kindling. A smaller box attached to the side of that held matches. And tucked behind it were the panels of a black screen. Timo showed us how they locked together to surround the firepit.

There was a sharp ax with its dangerous edge embedded in one of the logs, in case we ran out early. “A full cord of wood out back, covered with a blue tarp—and a layer of snow. If you both exit the mökki for long, you can leave coals burning, but place the screen all the way around.”

Beyond the wood sat a futon with a coffee table in front of it. Stacks of books and boxes of games filled the open shelf underneath. Along the rear wall were two narrow beds tucked back beneath the sloping ceiling with heaps of blankets, denim and wool, and clean sheets on both.

The kitchen was situated against the wall on the right. The short pantry cabinet was packed with provisions. The fridge was small and supposedly full, set back against the second wall along with a narrow table and two chairs.

I asked if there was an outhouse and prayed there was a bathroom. Considering I’d only seen lanterns and candles, the chances of indoor plumbing seemed slim.

“Just behind there,” Tuuli said, pointing to a folding screen to one side of the front door. I hadn’t noticed it because the wood slats blended perfectly with the walls. “We’ll empty the tank when we come to check on you. Same with the collection tank in the kitchen. As much as you can, keep a bowl in the sink and pitch the water out into the snow. Allow anything that might attract carnivors to drain into the tank.”

I prayed she was kidding. I knew she wasn’t.

I pasted on a smile and asked about hot water.

Tuuli went to the miniature fridge and tapped on a large cast iron pot sitting on the top, then she pointed to the fire pit. A black iron chain hung down from the middle of the hood and ended with a gnarly hook two feet above the waiting wood. “I’d keep a pot on all the time, so you’re not waiting long.”

I found Griffon watching me, biting his lips together, his eyes dancing with laughter.

“It’s just camping,” I said. “I’m from freaking Wyoming. I candocamping.” I tried to tell him, with my smile, that I could do anything as long as we were together.

---