And even though I didn’t know the language—it had an Old Germanic flair, not that dissimilar from Norse, but it was much more guttural and distant enough that I shouldn’t be able to understand it—it all made perfect sense somehow.

she wept all through the night

until her tears became a lake

and the flower drowned awaiting the bird’s return

It was a strange thing to have an ancient-sounding, bluesy a capella song stuck in my head, but here we were.

The train ended at the station in the human town of Churchill—the Polar Bear Capital of the World, if the sign was to be believed. Doldastam was nearly an hour-long drive away, so Bryn was supposed to be waiting for me with one of the Kanin’s vehicles.

I grabbed my duffel bag and kept my head down when I walked through the station, not that any of the humans seemed to notice me. I don’t know what kind of deal the Kanin made with the Churchillians or if it was part of their cloaking spell, but they didn’t bother me and that was good.

Outside, I squinted into the bright morning sun, and I spotted a guy leaning against a white Range Rover. His chestnut curls were cropped short, and he looked at me over the top of his sunglasses. When he smiled and waved at me, I finally recognized him as Ridley Dresden, Bryn’s boyfriend. They had been together for years, but I had only met him once, when I visited Doldastam.

“How are you doing, Ulla?” he asked as he stepped toward me. “Do you need help with your bag?”

“No, I’m good,” I said, and he opened the trunk so I could toss my bag inside. “How are you?”

“Good, good,” he replied. “Bryn’s busy with a work thing. She has the rest of the day off, but she had some meeting with the Högdragen she couldn’t get out of. So she asked me to give you a ride.”

“Well, thank you, I really appreciate it.” I offered him an apologetic smile.

“No problem,” Ridley said cheerily, and he opened the passenger-side door for me. He jogged around and got in. As he turned the car on, he asked, “Is Avicii okay?”

Upbeat electronica came out of the speakers, and honestly, I was happy for the reprieve from the haunting choir in my head—grotta insa ihkku / anda cieri insa saddjavvi.

“Yeah, it’s great,” I said, and settled into the seat. “It sounds like Bryn has been busy.”

Ridley chuckled. “That’s an understatement.”

He pulled out of the parking lot, and within minutes, we’d taken the main street past the shops and inns, and we were out of the town. On either side of the narrow road, the summer tundra of tall grass and wildflowers surrounded us.