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She sighs. “Back home in California, yes. Here? I don’t even know where this is. But I suppose we’ll find out soon.”
She starts walking down the hill, using both swords as balancing poles of sorts. I get in front of her, just in case she takes a tumble, but she seems to be competent.
Fortunately, the hills here are small, and soon, the ground is level. We hurry across a snowy field, conscious of being seen in the open, though so far, other than that passing car on the road and the house nestled between the trees, we haven’t seen signs of anyone.
Once we hit the cover of the trees, we slow down, carefully making our way toward the house so we aren’t discovered. The house itself is small, made up of dark wood planks, but inside, there’s a warm glow.
“I’m going to sneak up to the windows and look inside,” Hanna whispers. “You stay here.”
I don’t think I like taking orders from her, especially in a potentially dangerous situation. But I manage to bite my tongue and stay where I am, though I don’t take my eyes off her, my sword ready to be drawn at any moment.
She leaves her swords behind in the snow and then gets into a crouch and walks low toward the house. I hold my breath as she reaches the wood siding and slowly peers over the edge of the window, looking inside.
Her head pokes up higher, looking all around the interior before she turns and quickly hurries back over to me.
“I just see one man asleep in his armchair by the fire. He has a cup of coffee beside him, but he hasn’t had any of it. I think he’s out for the count.”
“So then we break in and hope not to wake him,” I say, picking up her swords from the snow.
“No,” she says, shaking her head vigorously. “We’ll get caught. It’s best we take the opportunity to steal his car.”
Again with the stealing.
“Seems silly that humans would keep their keys in the car if people like you can just steal them,” I say as we start creeping along the edge of the house, keeping to the trees.
“Well, most don’t, but this guy seems to be in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think he expects many people out here. With any luck, the keys are in the car, and we can drive off without waking him.”
“Do I get to drive?” I ask.
She lets out a sharp laugh and then quickly covers her mouth. “Sorry. You’re serious?”
I shrug. “I am a god. Do you think I’m unable to operate a motor vehicle?”
“Because you just called it a motor vehicle, I’m going to say no, you can’t.”
“What? That is what it is. Is automobile better?”
Hanna just shakes her head and trots along in front of me until we round the corner of the house. There, at the side of the building, at the head of a wide trail, is a low, gray car covered in a dusting of snow.
“Vol-vo,” I say, reading the name at the front of the car. “So they name their transportation here too. I think I had a cousin called Volvo. Goddess of earthworms or something.”
I glance over at Hanna as she goes for one of the doors, her mouth twisted in such a way that I can tell she’s trying not to laugh again. “Volvo is the name of the car manufacturer, not the car itself.”
“So it’s not like Sarvi?”
“It’s nothing like Sarvi.” She tries the door handle, and it opens. She shakes her hand. “Fuck, that’s cold. The heater in here better work.”
I try the same on my side and then throw my swords in the backseat before I crouch down and step into the vehicle. I barely fit, my frame nearly too wide for the seat. “Who do they make these for, children?” I grumble as I try to shut the door, my shoulder pressed up against it.
Hanna laughs but doesn’t say anything. She quickly reaches for some flaps on the roof and lifts a section between us before she nods at a small door that my knees are pressed up against. “Can you open that and see if you find any keys? You can move the seat back by the levers underneath.”
I reach down until my fingers grasp metal rods, and I push and pull at them until my seat slides backward with a loud clack. It gives me just enough room to open the small door and rummage around.
“Only papers, no keys. Wait.” I grab something small and pull it out. It’s shiny, flat, and thin, and I proudly display it to her. “I have it. The key!”
“That’s a stick of gum,” she says with a sigh. “Fuck, maybe I have to break into his house after all.”
I peer at the stick of gum. Ah, I see now—the metal part is just paper that peels off. I’d seen people eat gum in the movies, so I take the green, flexible material out of the silver paper and pop it in my mouth and swallow it. It doesn’t go down very easily, and the mint flavor is barely detectable. Quite disappointing.
