I lift my chin. “This is Lumi. You trusted me with Mikael’s secret. I’m trusting you with mine. Lumi can search faster than any of us.”
For a breath, no one speaks. Then Helkki sighs. “She’s beautiful.”
"Thank you, fiery one," Lumi replies.
I exhale slowly. I’m sure they’ll have questions, but they say nothing more for now.
“Go,” I whisper.
Lumi rises through the trees, a glowing wisp against the dark branches. Katja follows, hovering low enough to direct me after them both. I tighten the sling holding Eevi, then race after the light.
The forest closes around us in shadows and silver. My breath comes in clouds of mist. Lumi searches high and fast, darting one way, then the other. Her shifting light sends the trees’ shadows dancing across the path like skeletons brought to life. Twigs snap beneath my boots as I push on, keeping Katja in view as she occasionally calls down directions.
My legs pump in time with her wings. They ache, but I ignore it.
Every jumping shadow and unknown sound sends my heart lurching to my throat with fear. I ignore that too.
More than fear drives me forward. It’s deeper than that.
I can’t let them down.
I can’t lose him.
I can’t fail.
I can’t…
I care. Icare.
About Lark. About all of them.
Somewhere between snowball fights and play rehearsals, this family became mine too. I care for them.
I—I lo—
“Here, Valkie! Over here,” Lumi calls down.
My heart tumbles down the path in front of me.
“Straight ahead, Val,” Katja directs.
A flash of white hair through the trees.
“Lark!”
Urgent squeaking confirms we’ve found him as Hugo races out to meet us, quills flying. Katja and Lumi beat me there, but I sprint to join them.
He’s slumped at the base of a tree, half-buried in snow, one leg bent at a wrong angle. His coat is torn, his shoulder bloody, and one side of his face is scraped raw. But he’s alive.
“Mika. Where’s Mika?” Lark is saying. Hugo squeaks along with his urgent probing.
“He’s safe. Val froze him.” Katja’s reassurance only makes Lark’s head jerk up.
His gaze finds mine. Pain tightens his face, but if I live a thousand years, I’ll never forget the look in those jade-honey eyes when they lock on me. Relief. Hope. A look like I’m the answer to his every question. It drives the breath from my lungs.
“He’s alive, Lark. Contained in ice, but otherwise fine. The others are with him. Everyone is safe.”
His eyelids droop. “Thank you,” he whispers.
