The gray wolf races from the trees again, running forward before stopping in the middle of the clearing to turn around again.
Just like it did before.
My eyes widen when the white wolf darts from the trees to pounce on the gray wolf. They tussle, right themselves, nudge each other, and pad toward the trees and then?—
They’re gone again.
I spin to Halle. “What is this?”
Her face is pale. “Veda.” She speaks cautiously. “When you created your cottage and your forest and all that… it was from your dreams, wasn’t it?”
I nod. I’m not surprised she knows that because the keeper had leaned in and said as much to me at the time, reminding me that I should have guarded my dreams. She would have overheard him.
“And, just to confirm, it wasn’t actually a place you had visited,” she continues. “Was it?”
“Of course not,” I say. Given what Jonah said about the original cottage and orchard, they no longer exist—they haven’t existed at all in my lifetime.”
Halle angles herself through the narrow gap between me and the door. Her feet sink into the snow and she gives a violent shiver. “This place, too, must be from the keeper’s dreams. A place long ago destroyed.”
She turns to me just as the wolves reappear behind her, playing in the snow without any awareness of our presence. Then they flicker and disappear again.
Halle gestures to them. “His dreams are breaking apart. Just like he is.”
“I can’t take him inside there,” I say, still squinting at the brightness.
Goosebumps rise on my skin, and the breeze lifting off the snow chills me to the bone.
Jonah’s voice sounds behind me. “You must take him inside,” he says. “Look.”
He points at the keeper’s chest.
The blood has stopped flowing so freely from his wounds and his breathing is a little stronger. Just a little. But noticeably so.
Anarchy and her brothers are also nodding. “We are dark elves of the House of Dark Dreams. Sometimes, the most dangerous dream is the one that brings you clarity.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “But—” I can’t stop my shudder. “It’s fr-freezing.”
Jonah squeezes past me, ignoring Halle’s disgruntled glare.
“That’s a longhouse,” he says, gesturing at the building. “It’s Einherjar architecture. Given its detail, I’m certain there will be coats and furs inside. I will bring them.”
I remember that he mentioned protecting the Valkyries’ followers—humans who called themselves ‘Einherjar’—so I hope he’s right.
Without waiting for permission, Jonah hurries across the snowy landscape and disappears inside the structure before coming back with his arms full of furs. He hands me a coat that’s an eerily good fit before handing out the others.
Halle doesn’t wait for hers, pushing through the snow and nearly sinking to her ankles. Other than grunting with effort as she plows across the clearing, she doesn’t seem to notice the cold, trudging forward resolutely toward the cabin door on the far left, closer to the side of the mountain.
Even with the warm coat, I’m relieved to make it across the clearing and into the longhouse. Also, because it’s easier for me to see inside the dimly lit space.
The inside space is long and rectangular, with a set of stairs at the far end. They lead up to a loft that sits around three sides, and it looks like there are multiple internal access points to the turrets I noticed on the roof.
Most importantly, there’s a firepit in the center of the floor immediately ahead.
I hurry toward it. “Jonah? Fire, please?”
While Jonah sets about creating a warm blaze—which I force my eyes to tolerate, given its warmth—Orlan lowers the keeper onto the fur beside the hearth.
I kneel there, too, bundling up a second fur to place under Emil’s head.
