Echo North(22)

We mounted the first step and climbed past a lily pool, water splashing silver over bright, darting fish.

“The house is wild, as I told you before. It’s brimming with magic, some of it lovely and some of it more dangerous than you know.”

The book-mirrors. The bauble room. The laughing, shrieking fire. I nodded and climbed on.

“All the rooms exist, but none of them here, if you understand me. They are never in the same order unless you command the house to make them that way.”

“Command the house?” Roses nodded at us in the breeze, vines twining up a trellis set against the hill. I got the feeling they were dancing to music I couldn’t hear.

“If you would like to see the conservatory, you must simply tell the house ‘Conservatory,’ and that is what you will find behind the next door.”

That must have been why the wolf had yelled “garden” after we left the bound door. “But how did the rooms get here?”

“The … person who … arranged …” He growled, the words not coming out, then tried again. “A collector amused to gather bits of things … she … likes meshed them all together. A room here. A … life … there.”

I frowned. “Her” again. “Someone with great magic chose things to bring here. Gathered by … enchantment?” The word felt like ash in my mouth.

“Yes.”

We had climbed nearly to the top of the terraced steps. Around a bend in the path, a waterfall spilled from the brow of the hill. The wolf slipped through it, disappearing behind a curtain of spray.

I followed, holding my breath at the touch of cold water on my skin, and then I was through. A cozy room lay hidden beyond, a pair of armchairs facing out toward the waterfall. Between them stood an end table that sported a lamp and an ancient-looking tea set with chips in the china.

“But who is she?” I pressed.

He clambered up into one of the chairs, sitting on his haunches and draping his paws over the arm like someone’s overgrown house pet. Donia would have a conniption if the wolf sat on her furniture like that.

I tucked myself into the other chair.

“She is … the wood is …” The wolf looked at me, his sorrow palpable. “The wood is under her will, as is the house. But I can’t … I can’t talk about … in this house.… ” He looked at me helplessly.

I thought about the way I could barely say “enchantment.” “You can’t talk about her. Not here.”

He nodded.

“And the gatekeeper? The North Wind?”

“My guard.”

“Then you’re a prisoner.”

If the wolf was human I swear he would have shrugged. “Of a sort.”

“Then what am I?”

“You are my guest. The house’s next potential caretaker.”

“And have you had … guests … before?”

The waterfall roared; the air in the cave grew suddenly cold.

The wolf’s eyes found mine. “It has only ever been you, my lady.”

I unfolded myself from the chair, and paced over to the waterfall. I plunged my hand into it; icy cold seared through me. I blinked and saw my father, holding his lantern high in the snowy wood. Looking for me. Waiting for me. Fearing the worst.

The wolf padded up beside me. Why did I still feel drawn to him?

“I will teach you how to care for the house. How to command it. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of the house.” I realized it was true.

“Are you afraid of me?”

For a moment I peered down at him, trying to parcel out my feelings. “I don’t know.”

He dipped his head. “I will endeavor to give you no further reasons to fear me. Now, come. There is much to show you before the day is gone.”

He stepped back through the waterfall.

And I followed.





CHAPTER TEN

WE RETRACED OUR STEPS THROUGH THE garden and into the house, where a blue tiled corridor lined with miniature apple trees waited for us. I told the wolf I was tired and hungry, that I didn’t want to see anymore of the house just then.

His amber eyes burned into mine, but he didn’t call my bluff. “Ask the house, and it will bring you a meal. If you have need of me, call.”

And then he left me, the apple trees rustling as he passed them by.

I waited as long as I could bear, then started walking in the opposite direction. “House,” I said, feeling foolish, “Could I have a meat pie?” The air shimmered, and around the corner I found a plate waiting on a low table; the tantalizing aroma of stewed meat wafted up to greet me. I grabbed the pie and ate as I walked, so quickly I burned my tongue—I was starving, and even Donia had never made something so delicious.

Heartened by this success, I addressed the house again: “Could I have my knapsack, and supplies for the journey home?”

There was another shimmer in the air and around the next corner I found my knapsack hanging on a peg, full near to bursting. I slung it over my shoulder and made my last request: “Bring me to the gate. Show me the way out.”

The air shimmered a third time, and there came a rumbling sound from somewhere underneath me. “Please,” I said.

The apple-lined corridor gave way to an ordinary carpeted hallway, then a staircase winding down into darkness. I remembered how long it had taken the wolf and me to reach my room from the gate. “The shortest way, if you please,” I added. The floor jerked beneath my feet and I fell the rest of the way down the stairs, coming to a stop at the plain wood door. The lantern pulsed from its place high on the wall.