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BloomsburyPublishing,London,BerlinandNewYork

FirstpublishedinGreatBritainin2005byBloomsburyPublishingPlc

36SohoSquare,London,W1D3QYThiselectroniceditionpublishedinMay2010byBloomsburyPublishingPlcCopyright©ShannonHale2004

Themoralrightoftheauthorhasbeenasserted

AllrightsreservedYoumaynotcopy,distribute,transmit,reproduceorotherwise

makeavailablethispublication(oranypartofit)inanyform,orbyanymeans(includingwithoutlimitationelectronic,digital,optical,mechanical,photocopying,printing,recordingorotherwise),withoutthepriorwrittenpermissionofthepublisher.Anypersonwho

doesanyunauthorisedactinrelationtothispublicationmaybeliabletocriminalprosecutionandcivilclaimsfordamagesACIPcataloguerecordforthisbookisavailablefromtheBritishLibraryISBN9781408811979

www.bloomsbury.com

Visitwww.bloomsbury.comtofindoutmoreaboutourauthorsandtheirbooksYouwillfindextracts,authorinterviews,authoreventsandyoucansignupfornewsletterstobethefirsttohearaboutourlatestreleasesandspecialoffers

.AlsobyShannonHale

.

.THEBOOKSOFBAYERN

.TheGooseGirlEnnaBurningRiverSecrets

.

.PrincessAcademy

.

.TheBookofaThousandDays

.ForDean

.BestFriend,Companion,&SqueeterKeeper

YouareHome

n

ChapterOne

Theeastsaysit’sdawnMymouthspeaksayawn

MybedclingstomeandbegsmetostayIhearaworksongSaywinterislong

Ipeelmyselfupandthenmakeaway

nMiriwoketothesleepybleatingofagoat.Theworldwasasdarkaseyesclosed,but perhaps the goats could smell dawn seeping through the cracks in thehouse’sstonewalls.Thoughstillhalf-asleep,shewasawareofthelateautumnchill hovering just outside her blanket, and shewanted to curl up tighter andsleeplikeabearthroughfrostandnightandday.

Then she remembered the traders, kicked off her blanket, and sat up. Herfatherbelievedtodaywasthedaytheirwagonswouldsqueezeupthemountainpassandrumbleintothevillage.Thistimeofyear,allthevillagersfelttherushfor the last trading of the season, to hurry and square off a few more linderblocks and make that much more to trade, that much more to eat during thesnow-lockedmonths.Mirilongedtohelp.

Wincing at the rustle of her pea-shuck mattress, Miri stood and steppedcarefullyoverherpaandoldersister,Marda,asleepontheirpallets.Foraweekshehadharboredananxioushope torun to thequarry todayandbealreadyatworkwhenherpaarrived.Perhapsthenhemightnotsendheraway.

Shepulledherwoolleggingsandshirtoverhersleepclothes,butshehadnotyetlacedherfirstbootwhenacrunchofpea-shuckstoldherthatsomeoneelsehadawakened.

Pa stirred the hearth embers and added goat dung. The orange lightbrightened,pushinghishugeshadowagainstthewall.

“Isitmorning?”Mardaleanedupononearmandsquintedatthefirelight.“Justforme,”saidtheirfather.

HelookedtowhereMiristood,frozen,onefootinaboot,herhandsonthelaces.

“No,”wasallhesaid.“Pa.”Miristuffedherotherfootinitsbootandwenttohim,lacestrailingon

thedirtfloor.Shekepthervoicecasual,asthoughtheideahadjustoccurredtoher.“Ithoughtthatwiththeaccidentsandbadweatherlately,youcouldusemyhelp,justuntilthetraderscome.”

Padidnotsaynoagain,butshecouldseebytheconcentratedwayhepulledonhisbootsthathemeantit.Fromoutsidewaftedoneofthechantingsongstheworkerssangastheywalkedtothequarry.Ihearaworksongsaywinterislong.The sound came closer, and with it an insistence that it was time to join in,hurry,hurry,before theworkerspassedby,beforesnowencased themountaininsidewinter.ThesoundmadeMiri’sheartfeelsqueezedbetweentwostones.Itwasaunifyingsongandonethatshewasnotinvitedtojoin.

Embarrassedtohaveshownshewantedtogo,Mirishruggedandsaid,“Ohwell.” She grabbed the last onion from a barrel, cut off a slice of browngoatcheese,andhandedthefoodtoherfatherasheopenedthedoor.

“Thank you, my flower. If the traders come today, make me proud.” Hekissed the top of her head andwas singingwith the others before he reachedthem.

Herthroatburned.Shewouldmakehimproud.MardahelpedMirido the insidechores—sweeping thehearthandbanking

thecoals, laying the freshgoatdungout todry, addingmorewater to the saltpork soaking for dinner. AsMarda sang,Miri chattered about nothing, nevermentioningtheirpa’srefusaltoletherwork.Butgloomhungheavyonherlikewetclothes,andshewantedtolaughandshakeitoff.

“Last week I was passing by Bena’s house,” said Miri, “and her ancientgrandfatherwassittingoutside.Iwaswatchinghim,amazedthathedidn’tseembotheredbyaflythatwasbuzzingaroundhisface,when,smack.Hesquasheditrightagainsthismouth.”

Mardacringed.“ButMarda,he left it there,”saidMiri.“Thisdead flystuck justunderhis

nose.Andwhen he sawme, he said, ‘Good evening,miss,’ and the fly . . .”Miri’sstomachcrampedfromtryingtokeepspeakingthroughalaugh.“Theflywobbledwhenhemovedhismouth. . .and. . .andjust thenits littlecrushedwingliftedstraightup,asifitwerewavinghellotome,too!”

MardaalwayssaidshecouldnotresistMiri’slow,throatylaughanddefiedthemountainitselfnottorumbleaswell.ButMirilikedhersister’slaughbetterthanabellyfullofsoup.Atthesound,herheartfeltlighter.

Theychased thegoatsoutof thehouseandmilked thenannies in the tightchillofmorning.Itwascoldontopoftheirmountaininanticipationofwinter,buttheairwasloosenedbyabreezecomingupfromavalley.Theskychangedfrompinktoyellowtobluewiththerisingsun,butMiri’sattentionkeptshiftingtothewestandtheroadfromthelowlands.

“I’vedecidedtotradewithEnrikagain,”saidMiri,“andI’msetonwrestlingsomethingextraoutofhim.Wouldn’tthatbeafeat?”

Mardasmiled,humming.Mirirecognizedthetuneasonethequarryworkerssangwhendraggingstonesoutofthepit.Singinghelpedthemtotuginrhythm.

“Maybeextrabarleyorsaltfish,”saidMiri.“Orhoney,”saidMarda.“Evenbetter.”Hermouthwateredatthethoughtofhotsweetcakes,honeyed

nuts for a holiday, and a bit saved to drizzle on biscuits some bleak winterevening.

Atherpa’srequest,Mirihadtakenchargeoftradingforthepastthreeyears.Thisyear,shewasdeterminedtogetthatstingylowlandertradertogiveupmorethanhehadintended.SheimaginedthequietsmileonPa’sfacewhenshetoldhimwhatshehaddone.

“I can’t help wondering,” said Marda, holding the head of a particularlygrumpygoatwhileMiri did themilking, “after you left, how long did the flyremain?”

Atnoon,Mardalefttohelpinthequarry.MirineverspokeaboutthisdailymomentwhenMardawent andMiri stayedbehind.Shewould never tell howsmallanduglyshefelt.LetthemallbelieveIdon’tcare,thoughtMiri.BecauseIdon’tcare.Idon’t.

WhenMiriwaseightyearsold,alltheotherchildrenheragehadstartedtowork in thequarry—carryingwater, fetching tools,andperformingotherbasictasks.When shehad askedher pawhy she couldnot, he had takenher in hisarms,kissed the topofherhead,androckedherwithsuch love,sheknewshewouldleapacrossthemountaintopsifheaskedit.Theninhismild,lowvoice,hehadsaid,“Youarenevertosetfootinthequarry,myflower.”

Shehadnotaskedhimwhyagain.Mirihadbeentinyfrombirthandatagefourteenwassmallerthangirlsyearsyounger.Therewasasayinginthevillagethat when something was thought to be useless it was “skinnier than alowlander’sarm.”WheneverMirihearditshewantedtodigaholeintherocksandcrawldeepandoutofsight.

“Useless,”shesaidwithalaugh.Itstillstung,butshelikedtopretend,eventoherself,thatshedidnotcare.

Miriledthegoatsupaslopebehindtheirhousetotheonlypatchesofgrassstill long. By winter, the village goats worked the hilltop grasses down tostubble.Inthevillageitself,nogreenthingsgrew.Rockdebriswasstrewnandstackedandpileddeeper thanMiricoulddig,andscree littered theslopes thattouchedthevillagelanes.Itwasthecostoflivingbesideaquarry.Miriheardthelowlandertraderscomplain,butshewasaccustomedtoheapsofrockchippingsunderfoot, finewhite dust in the air, andmallets beating out the sound of themountain’sheartbeat.

Linder. It was the mountain’s only crop, her village’s one means oflivelihood.Overcenturies,wheneveronequarryranoutof linder, thevillagersduganewone,movingthevillageofMountEskelintotheoldquarry.Eachofthe mountain’s quarries had produced slight variations on the brilliant whitestone.Theyhadminedlindermarbledwithpaleveinsofpink,blue,green,andnowsilver.

Miritetheredthegoatstoatwistedtree,satontheshorngrass,andpluckedone of the tiny pink flowers that bloomed out of cracks in the rocks. Amiriflower.

The linderof thecurrentquarryhadbeenuncovered thedayshewasborn,andherfatherhadwantedtonameherafterthestone.

“Thisbedoflinderisthemostbeautifulyet,”hehadtoldhermother,“purewhitewithstreaksofsilver.”

But in thestory thatMirihadpulledoutofherpamany times,hermotherhad refused. “I don’t want a daughter named after a stone,” she had said,choosing instead to name her Miri after the flower that conquered rock andclimbedtofacethesun.

Pa had said that despite pain and weakness after giving birth, her motherwouldnot letgoofher tinybaby.Aweek later,hermotherhaddied.ThoughMirihadnomemoryofitsavewhatshecreatedinherimagination,shethoughtof thatweekwhenshewasheldbyhermotheras themostprecious thingsheowned,andshekepttheideaofittighttoherheart.

Miritwirledtheflowerbetweenherfingers,andthethinpetalssnappedoffanddroppedintothebreeze.Folkwisdomsaidshecouldmakeawishifallthepetalsfellinonetwirl.

Whatcouldshewishfor?She looked to the east, where the yellow green slopes and flat places of

MountEskelclimbedintothegraybluepeak.Tothenorth,achainofmountainsboundedawayintoforever—purple,blue,thengray.

She could not see the horizon to the south, where somewhere an oceanunfolded,mysterious.To thewestwas the trader road that led to thepass andeventually to the lowlandsand therestof thekingdom.Shecouldnot imaginelifeinthelowlandsanymorethanshecouldvisualizeanocean.

Belowher, thequarrywas a jangleofodd rectangular shapes, blockshalf-exposed,menandwomenworkingwithwedgesandmalletstofreechunksfromthemountain, levers to lift themout,andchisels tosquare themstraight.Evenfromherhilltop,Miricouldhearthechantingsongsintherhythmsofthemallet,chisel, and lever, the sounds overlapping, the vibrations stirring the groundwhereshesat.

A tingle inhermindanda senseofDoter, oneof thequarrywomen, camewiththefaintcommandLightentheblow.Quarry-speech.Mirileanedforwardatthefeelofit,wantingtohearmore.

Theworkersusedthiswayof talkingwithoutspeakingaloudsotheycould

behearddespitetheclayplugstheyworeintheirearsandthedeafeningblowsofmallets.Thevoiceofquarry-speechworkedonlyinthequarryitself,butMiricouldsometimessensetheechoeswhenshesatnearby.Shedidnotunderstandhowitworkedexactlybuthadheardaquarryworkersaythatalltheirpoundingandsingingstoreduprhythminthemountain.Then,whentheyneededtospeaktoanotherperson,themountainusedtherhythmtocarrythemessageforthem.Justnow,Dotermusthavebeentellinganotherquarriertolightenhisstrikeonawedge.

How wonderful it would be, Miri thought, to sing in time, to call out inquarry-speechtoafriendworkingonanotherledge.Toshareinthework.

Themiristembegantogolimpinherfingers.Whatcouldshewishfor?Tobeastallasatree,tohavearmslikeherpa,tohaveaneartohearthelinderripefortheharvestandthepowertopullitloose.Butwishingforimpossiblethingsseemedaninsulttothemiriflowerandaslightagainstthegodwhomadeit.Foramusementshefilledherselfwithimpossiblewishes—hermaaliveagain,bootsno rock shard couldpoke through, honey insteadof snow.To somehowbe asusefultothevillageasherownpa.

A frantic bleating pulled her attention to the base of her slope. A boy offifteenpursuedaloosegoatthroughtheknee-deepstream.Hewastallandlean,withaheadof tawnycurlsand limbsstillbrownfromthesummersun.Peder.Normally shewould shout hello, but over the past year a strange feeling hadcomeinchingintoMiri,andnowshewasmorelikelytohidefromhimthanflickpebblesathisbackside.

She had begun to notice things about him lately, like the pale hair on histanned arm and the line between his brows that deepened when he wasperplexed.Shelikedthosethings.

ItmadeMiriwonderifhenoticedher,too.She looked from the bald head of themiri flower down to Peder’s straw-

coloredhairandwantedsomethingthatshewasafraidtospeak.“Iwish...,”shewhispered.Didshedare?“IwishthatPederandI—”A horn blast echoed so suddenly against the cliffs that Miri dropped the

flower stem. The village did not have a horn, so that meant lowlanders. Shehated to respond to the lowlander’s trumpet like an animal to a whistle, butcuriosity overcame her pride. She grabbed the tethers and wrestled the goatsdowntheslope.

“Miri!”Peder joggedupbesideher,pullinghisgoatsafterhim.Shehopedherfacewasnotsmudgedwithdirt.

“Hello,Peder.Whyaren’tyouinthequarry?”Inmostfamilies,careof thegoatsandrabbitswasperformedonlybythosetooyoungortoooldtoworkinthequarry.

“My sister wanted to learn wedge work and my grandmother was feelingsoreinthebones,somymaaskedmetotakeaturnwiththegoats.Doyouknowwhatthetrumpetingisabout?”

“Traders,Iguess.Butwhythefanfare?”“Youknowlowlanders,”saidPeder.“They’resoimportant.”“Maybe one had some gas, and they trumpeted so thewholeworldwould

knowthegoodnews.”Hesmiledinhisway,withtherightsideofhismouthpullinghigherthanthe

left.Theirgoatswerebleatingatoneanotherlikelittlechildrenarguing.“Oh, really, is that so?”Miriasked the leadgoatas if sheunderstood their

talk.“What?”saidPeder.“Yournanny there said that streamwas socold it scaredhermilk rightup

intohermuttonchops.”Peder laughed, stirring in her a desire to say something more, something

clever and wonderful, but the wanting startled all her thoughts away, so sheclampedhermouthshutbeforeshesaidsomethingstupid.

TheystoppedatMiri’shousetotieupthegoats.Pedertriedtohelpbytakingall the tethers, but thegoats started tobutt oneanother, the leads tangled, andsuddenlyPeder’sankleswerebound.

“Wait...stop,”hesaid,andfellflattotheground.Miri stepped in to try tohelpand soon foundherself sprawledbesidehim,

laughing.“We’recookedinagoatstew.There’snosavingusnow.”

Whentheywerefinallyuntangledandstandingupright,Mirihadanimpulseto leanforwardandkisshischeek.Theurgeshockedher,andshestoodthere,dumbandembarrassed.

“Thatwasamess,”hesaid.“Yes.”Mirilookeddown,brushingthedirtandgravelfromherclothes.She

decided shehadbetter teasehimquickly incasehehad readher thoughts. “Ifthere’sonethingyou’regoodat,PederDoterson,it’smakingamess.”

“That’swhatmymaalwayssays,andeveryoneknowsshe’sneverwrong.”Mirirealizedthatthequarrywassilentandtheonlypoundingsheheardwas

her own heartbeat in her ears. She hoped Peder could not hear it. Anothertrumpetblarerousedthemtourgency,andtheysetoffrunning.

Thetraderwagonswerelinedupinthevillagecenter,waitingforbusinesstobegin,butall eyeswereonapaintedbluecarriage that rolled into theirmidst.Mirihadheardofcarriagesbutneverseenonebefore.Someoneimportantmusthavecomewiththetraders.

“Peder,let’swatchfrom—”Miristartedtosay,butjustthenBenaandLianashoutedPeder’snameandwavedhimover.BenawasastallasPeder,withhairbrownerthanMiri’sthathitherwaistwhenloose,andLianawithherlargeeyeswas acknowledged the prettiest girl in the village. Theywere two years olderthanPeder,butlatelyhewastheboytheymostpreferredtosmileat.

“Let’swatchwiththem,”saidPeder,waving,hissmilesuddenlyshy.Miri shrugged. “Go ahead.” She ran the other way, weaving through the

crowdofwaitingquarryworkerstofindMarda,anddidnotlookback.“Who do you think it could be?” askedMarda, stepping closer toMiri as

soon as she approached. Even in a large group, Marda felt anxious standingalone.

“Idon’tknow,”saidEsa,“butmymasaysasurprisefromalowlanderisasnakeinabox.”

Esawasslender,thoughnotassmallasMiri,andsharedthesametawnyhairwith her brother, Peder. She was eyeing the wagon, her face scrunchedsuspiciously.Mardanodded.Doter,EsaandPeder’smother,wasknownforherwisesayings.

“Asurprise,”saidFrid.Shehadshoulder-lengthblackhairandanexpressionof near constant wonderment. Though only sixteen, she was nearly as broad-shouldered and thick-armed as any of her six big brothers. “Who could it be?Somerichtrader?”

Oneofthetraderslookedtheirwaywithapatronizingsmile.“Clearly,it’samessengerfromtheking.”

“Theking?”Mirifeltherselfgawklikeacoarsemountaingirl,butshecouldnothelpit.Noonefromthekinghadbeentothemountaininherlifetime.

“They’reprobablyheretodeclareMountEskelthenewcapitalofDanland,”saidthetrader.

“Theroyalpalacewillfitnicelyinthequarry,”saidthesecondtrader.“Really?”Fridasked,andbothtraderssnickered.Miriglaredatthembutdid

notspeakup,afraidofsoundingignorantherself.Another trumpet blared, and a brightly dressed man stood on the driver’s

benchandyelledinahigh,strainedvoice,“IcallyourearstohearkenthechiefdelegateofDanland.”

A delicate man with a short, pointed beard emerged from the carriage,squintinginthesunlightthatreflectedoffthewhitewallsoftheoldquarry.Ashetookinthesightofthecrowd,hissquintbecameapronouncedfrown.

“Lordsandladiesof...”Hestoppedandlaughed,sharingsomeprivatejokewithhimself.“PeopleofMountEskel.Asyourterritoryhasnodelegateatcourtto report to you, HisMajesty the king sent me to deliver you this news.” Abreezetappedhishat’slongyellowfeatheragainsthisbrow.Hepusheditaway.Someoftheyoungervillageboyslaughed.

“Thispastsummer,thepriestsofthecreatorgodtookcouncilonthebirthdayoftheprince.Theyreadtheomensanddivinedthehomeofhisfuturebride.AllthesignsindicatedMountEskel.”

The chief delegate paused, seeminglywaiting for a response, thoughwhatkindMirihadnonotion.Acheer?Aboo?Hesighed,andhisvoicewenthigher.

“Areyousoremotethatyoudon’tknowthecustomsofyourownpeople?”Miri wished that she could shout out just the right answer, but like her

neighbors,shewassilent.

Afewtraderschuckled.“This has longbeen aDanlander custom,” said the chief delegate, pushing

the wind-beaten feather away from his face. “After days of fasting andsupplication,thepriestsperformaritetodivinewhichcityortownisthehomeofthefutureprincess.Thentheprincemeetsallthenobledaughtersofthatplaceand chooses his bride. Youmay be certain that the pronouncement ofMountEskelshockedmanyDanlanders,butwhoarewetoarguewiththepriestsofthecreatorgod?”

Fromthetightnessofhistone,Miriguessedthathehadindeedtriedtoarguewiththepriestsofthecreatorgodandfailed.

“As is the tradition, the king commanded an academy be created for thepurpose of preparing the potential young ladies. Though law dictates theacademybeformedinthechosentown,yourvillagedoesnot”—hesquintedandlooked around—“indeed, does not have any buildings of appropriate size forsuchanundertaking.Giventhesecircumstances,thepriestsagreedtheacademycouldbe lodged in theoldstoneminister’shousenear themountainpass.Theking’sservantsareevennowpreparingitforuse.”Thewindtappedthefeatheronhischeek.Heswatteditlikeabee.

“On themorrow, all the girls in this village aged twelve to seventeen areorderedtotheacademytopreparethemselvestomeettheprince.Oneyearfromnow the prince will ascend the mountain and attend the academy’s ball. Hehimselfwill select his bride from among the girls of the academy. So let youprepare.”

Theupdraftthrustthefeatherintohiseye.Hetoreitfromhishatandthrewitattheground,butthewindsnatcheditupandsentitflyingoutfromthevillage,overthecliff,andaway.Thechiefdelegatewasbackinhiscarriagebeforethefeatherwasoutofsight.

“Snakeinabox,”saidMiri.

n

ChapterTwo

nWaterintheporridgeAndmoresaltinthegruelDoesn’tmakeabellyFull,notabellyful

nLet’sdowhatwecamefor,”shoutedatrader.Hisvoicewasaninvitationtobreakthesilence.Evensuchstrangenewscouldnotdelaythemostimportanttradingoftheyear.

“Enrik!”Mirijoggedtothetradershehaddealtwithforthepasttwoyears.Hewaslankandpale,andthewayhelookeddownhisthinnoseatherremindedMiriofabirdthathadgonetoolongwithoutagrub.

Enrik drove hiswagon to the stack of finished stones that represented herfamily’sportionofthepastthreemonths’work.Miripointedouttheunusuallylargesizeofoneblockandthequalityofthesilvergraininothers,allthewhileeyeing the contents of his wagon and calculating howmuch food her familywouldneedtogetthroughthewinter.

“Thesestonesareeasilyworthyourhaul,”saidMiri,tryingherbesttomimicDoter’swarm,solidtoneofvoice.NooneeverarguedwithEsaandPeder’sma.“But tobenice, I’ll tradeour stones for everything inyourwagonexceptonebarrelofwheat,onebagoflentils,andacrateofsaltfish,solongasyouincludethatpotofhoney.”

Enrikclickedhistongue.“LittleMiri,yourvillageisluckyanytraderscomeallthiswayjustforstone.I’llgiveyouhalfofwhatyouasked.”

“Half?You’rejoking.”“Lookaround,”hesaid.“Haven’tyounoticedfewerwagonsthisyear?Other

tradershauledsuppliestotheacademyinsteadoftoyourvillage.Besides,yourpawon’tneedsomuchwithyouandyoursistergone.”

Mirifoldedherarms.“Thisacademybusinessisjustatricktocheatus,isn’tit?Iknewithadtobesomethingsneakybecausenolowlanderisgoingtomake

agirlfromMountEskelintoroyalty.”“After the news of the academy, no family with eligible girls is going to

barterforanybetter,soyou’dbesttakemyofferbeforeIdriveaway.”Soundsoffrustratedconversationsblewaroundthetowncenter.Peder’sma

wasred-facedandyelling,andFrid’smalookedreadytohitsomeone.“ButI...Iwanted...”Shehadvisualizedcominghometriumphantwitha

loadfittofeedtwofamilies.“ButIwanted...,”Enrikmimickedherinasqueakyvoice.“Nowdon’tlet

your chinget toquivering. I’ll giveyou thehoney, just because somedayyoumightbemyqueen.”

Thatmadehimlaugh.Aslongasshegottobringhomesomehoney,Mirididnotmindhislaugh.Notmuch,anyway.

Enrik drove to her house and helped her unload, at least. It gave Miri achancetotakesomepleasureinhowoftenhestumbledandtrippedonthestonyturf.

Miri’s house was built of rubble rock, the plain gray stone the quarrierspulledoutof theearthtouncover linder.Thebackofherhouseleanedagainstthesheerwallofadeadquarry,theoneofherfather’schildhoodthathadofferedlinderwithsoftbluestreaks.Linderandrubblerockdebrispiledashighasthewindowsills.

Miribusiedherselfaroundthehouseallafternoon,sortingandstoringtheirwintersupplies,shyingawayfromthethoughtthatitwouldnotbeenoughtoseethethreeofthemthroughwinter.Theycouldeatmanyoftherabbitsandperhapskillagoat,butthatlosswouldmakethingseventighterthenextwinterandthenext.Stupid,cheatinglowlanders.

When the sunlight streaking throughher shutterswasorangeandhazy, thesound of pounding began to falter.By the time her pa andMarda opened thedoor,itwasnight.Mirihadreadypork,oat,andonionstew,withfreshcabbagetocelebrateatradingday.

“Evening,Miri,”saidherpa,kissingthetopofherhead.“IgotEnriktogiveusapotofhoney,”saidMiri.Marda and Pa hummed over her small triumph, but the poor trading and

strange news of the academy were on their minds, and no one was able topretendcheeriness,evenoverhoney.

“I’m not going,” said Miri as she prodded her chilling stew. “Are you,Marda?”

Mardashrugged.“Theythinkthevillagecoulddowithouthalfthegirls?”saidMiri.“Who’d

helpyouinthequarrywithMardagone?Andwithoutme,whowoulddoallthehouseworkandtendtherabbitsandthegoatsandallthethingsthatIdo?”Shebithalfherlipandlookedatthefire.“Whatdoyouthink,Pa?”

Her father rubbed a callused finger over the rough grain of the table.Miriheldstillasarabbitlistening.

“I’dmissmygirls,”hesaid.Miriexhaled.Hewasontheirside,andhewouldnotletthelowlanderstake

her away from home. Even so, she found it difficult to finish dinner. Shehummedtoherselfasongabouttomorrows.

n

ChapterThree

Tomorrow’saredflushinthewesternskyTomorrow’sablackhushinthemiddlenight

Tomorrowswearsthetruthofnow,now,andnowInthetremblingbluegaspofthemorninglight

nBeforedawn,Miriwoketotrumpeting.Thesamesoundthatinthedayhadbeencurious and even comicalwas now unsettling. Before she could stand, her pawasatthedoor,andwhathesawmadehimfrown.

Miri’s first thoughtwas bandits, butwhywould they attackMount Eskel?Every villager knew the story of the last bandit attack, beforeMiriwas born,when the exhausted outlaws had finally reached the village at the top of themountainonlytofindlittleworthstealingandahordeofmenandwomenmadestrongbyyears in thequarry.Thebanditshadrunoffwithemptyhandsandafewmorebruisesandhadneverreturned.

“Whatisit,Pa?”askedMiri.“Soldiers.”Miristoodbehindhimandpeeredunderhisliftedarm.Shecouldseepairsof

torch-bearingsoldiersalloverthevillage.Twoapproachedtheirdoor,theirfacesvisiblebytorchlight—onewasolderthanherpa,tall,withahardface,andtheotherseemedbutaboydressedup.

“We’vecometocollectyourgirls,”saidtheoldersoldier.HecheckedathinwoodboardburnedwithmarksthatMirididnotunderstand.“MardaandMiri.”

Marda was standing on the other side of their pa now. He put his armsaroundboththeirshoulders.

ThesoldiersquintedatMiri.“Howoldareyou,girl?”“Fourteen,”shesaid,glaring.“Areyoucertain?Youlook—”“I’mfourteen.”The young soldier smirked at his companion. “Must be the thinmountain

air.”“Andwhataboutyou?”TheoldersoldierturnedhisdoubtfulgazetoMarda.“I’llbeeighteeninthethirdmonth.”He smacked his lips together. “Just missed it, then. The prince will be

eighteen in the fifth month of this year, and no girl older than the prince isallowed.We’lljustbetakingMiri.”

Thesoldiersshiftedtheirfeetintherockdebris.Mirilookedupatherpa.“No,”Pasaidatlast.Theyoungersoldiersnortedandlookedathiscompanion.“Ithoughtyouwerejokingwhenyousaidtheymightresist.‘No,’hesays,as

thoughit’shischoice.”Heleanedforwardandlaughed.Miri laughed back loudly in the young soldier’s face, surprising him into

silence.Shecouldnotstandtohavealowlandermockherpa.“Whatagoodjoke,aboypretendingtobeasoldier,”saidMiri.“Butisn’tit

awfullyearlyforyoutobeawayfromyourma?”Heglared.“I’mseventeenand—”“Areyoureally?Thatmuggylowlanderairdoesstuntathing,doesn’tit?”The young soldier started forward as if he would strike Miri, but her pa

stepped in frontofher,and theoldersoldierknockedbackhiscompanionandwhisperedangrilyintohisear.Mirihadenjoyedreturningtheinsult,butnowshefeltcoldandtired.Sheleanedclosertoherpaandhopedshewouldnotcry.

“Sir,” said the older soldier courteously, “we are here to escort the girlssafelytotheacademy.Thesearetheking’sorders.Wemeannoharm,butIdohaveinstructionstotakeanyresistersdirectlytothecapital.”

Miri stared,wishing the soldierwould take it back. “Pa, I don’twant youarrested,”shewhispered.

“Laren!” one of the villagemen,Os, called out to their father. “Come on,we’remeeting.”

The soldiers followed them to the village center. While the adults andsoldiersconversed,MiriandMardastoodinahuddleofothervillagegirlsandboys,watchingandwaitingforadecision.Theadultsarguedwiththesoldiers,whointurntriedtocalmeveryoneandmakeassurancesthattheirgirlswouldbe

safe,wellcaredfor,andasnearasathree-hourwalk.“But howwill wemanagewithout the girls to help in the quarry?” asked

Frid’sma.Of coursenoone asked, “HowwillwemanagewithoutMiri?”She folded

herskinnyarmsandlookedaway.Theyarguedaboutneedingthegirls,theshorterfoodsupplythatwinter,the

threat of arrest, and the unknown future the girlswouldmeet at the academy.Thesoldierscontinuedtoanswerquestionsandclaimthatattendingtheacademywasanhonor,notapunishment.MirisawOsaskherfatheraquestion,andafterathoughtfulpause,herfathernoddedagreement.Mirifeltchills.

“Girls,comeonover,”Osshouted.Thegirlssteppedawayfromtheboysandmadetheirwaytothegatheringof

adults.MirinoticedthatMardastayedbehind.“Girls.”Oslookedthemoverandrubbedhisbeardwiththebackofhishand.

Thoughhewaslargeandwasknownforhistemper,therewasasoftnessinhiseyes. “We’ve all agreed that the best thing is for you to attend the lowlanderacademy.” Sighs andmoans rippled through the crowd. “Now don’t worry. Ibelievethesesoldiersthatallwillbewellwithyou.Wewantyoutostudyhardanddoyourbestandberespectfulwhenyoushould.Gogatheryourthingsanddon’tdragyourfeet.ShowtheselowlandersthestrengthofMountEskel.”

SuddenlyPederwasbesideher.“Areyougoing?”heasked.“Yes, I guess. I don’t know.” She shook her head, trying to rattle her

thoughtsstraight.“Areyou?Imean,ofcourseyou’renot—you’reaboy.Imeanttoask,doyouwishIweren’t?Nevermind.”

Hismouth twisted intoamischievous smile. “Youwantme to say that I’llmissyou.”

“I’llmissyou.Whoelsecanmakeamessofeverything?”Walking away, Miri wished she could undo her words and instead say

somethingnice,somethingsincere.ShehadturnedtogobackwhenshesawthathewastalkingwithBenaandLiana.

MardareturnedfromtheirhousewithabundleofclothesandabagoffoodforMiri, and Pa pulled them both into his arms.Miri sank into his chest, his

body blocking the light of torches and the sound of good-byes. Surely hisembracemeantthathelovedher,thoughhedidnotsayit.Surelyhewouldmissher. But Miri could not help wondering how he would react if Marda, thedaughterwhoworkedbyhis side,weregoing to theacademy.Wouldhehaveprotestedmore?Wouldhehaverefusedthen?

Saythatyou’dmissmetoomuch,shethought.Makemestay.Heonlyhuggedhertight.Mirifelttorninhalf,likeanoldshirtmadeintorags.Howcouldshebearto

leaveher familyandwalk intosome lowlanderunknown?Andhowcouldshebeartoadmitthatherpadidnotcareifshestayed?

Her father’s arms relaxed, and she pulled away. The noise of gravelunderfootsaidthatmostofthegirlswerealreadyontheroad.

“IguessIshouldgeton,”shesaid.Mardagaveheralasthug.Paonlynodded.Miritookhertimewalkingaway

incasehecalledoutforhertocomeback.Justbeforeleavingthevillage,Miripausedtolookback.Fourdozenhouses

leaned against the strippedwalls of a dead quarry.At the edge of the villagestoodthestonechapel,itsancientwooddoorcarvedwiththestoryofthecreatorgod first speaking to people. The sky was rust and yellow in the east,illuminatingthevillageasthoughbyfirelight.

She could see the hilltop where she spent afternoons with the goats andsurprised herself by feeling a tiny flash of relief that she would not sit theretoday,watching thequarriersworkbelow.Thecrunchingnoiseof thegirlsonthemarchbeckonedherwithapromiseofsomethingdifferent,aplacetogo,achancetomoveforward.

“Hurryon,”saidasoldierbringinguptherear,andMiricomplied.Thegirlshaddriftedintosmallgroupsastheywalked,andMiriwasunsure

which to join. For the past few years, all her childhood friends had begun toworkinthequarry,andMirihadgrownusedtosolitudeinherhouseandonthehilltopwiththegoats.Aroundothers,Mardawasusuallybyherside.

AheadwalkedEsaandFrid,andMirijoggedtocatchup.ThoughEsahadnouse of her left arm since a childhood accident, she still worked in the quarry

whenneedwasgreat,andFridperformedeven themostdifficultquarry tasks.Mirithoughttheyweremarvelous.IftheythoughtMiriaburdenontherestofthevillage,asshehadoftenfeared,thenshewouldneverletthemseeshecared.

Despite her uncertainty, Miri took Esa’s hand. Village girls always heldhandswhilewalking.Doter,Esa’smother,hadoncesaid itwasanoldcustommeant to keep them from slipping off cliffs, thoughMiri had felt as safe as agoatscamperingalonearoundMountEskelsinceshewasfive.

“Doyouhaveanyideawhatallthisisreallyabout?”Miriasked.Esa and Frid shook their heads. She eyed them, trying to read in their

expressionsiftheywishedshewouldgoaway.“I’dwagerthisprincessnonsenseisa trickthoughtupbythetraders,”said

Miri.“Mymawouldn’t letme leave if she thought I’dcome toharm,”saidEsa.

“Butshedoesn’tknowwhattomakeofiteither.”Fridwasstaringstraightaheadasthoughlookingatdeathitself.“Howwould

a prince decide who to marry, anyway? Would they have a contest for theprincess like we do on a holiday, lifting or running or throwing stones fordistance?”

Miri laughed, realizing too late fromFrid’s seriousexpression that shehadnotmeantitasajoke.Miriclearedherthroat.“Idon’tknow,butIhaveahardtimebelievinglowlandersmarryforlove,anyway.”

“Dolowlandersloveanything?”saidFrid.“Theirownsmells,Iimagine,”saidMiri.“At least there will be one less stomach to fill in my house,” said Esa,

glancing back as if thinking about home. Her voice softened. “Look, there’sBritta.Ican’tbelieveshe’sgoing,too.”

“She’salowlander,”saidFrid.“Butshe’sbeenonthemountainallsummer,soIguessshemeanstostay,”

saidEsa.MiriglancedoverhershoulderatBritta,walkingalonebetweentwogroups.

Thelowlandergirlwasfifteenanddelicate,asthoughshehadneverwrangledagoatorpoundedoutawheelofcheese.Hercheekswereruddylikethesunside

ofanapple,andthefeaturegaveheramerry,prettylookwhensheflashedararesmile.

“I’veneverspokentoher,”saidMiri.“She’sneverspokentomostpeople,”saidEsa.“Doesn’tsheignoreeveryone

whotalkstoher?”“Shedidinthequarry,”saidFrid.“Shecarriedwaterthissummer,butwhen

workersaskedforadrink,sheactedasifsheweredeaf.Afteracoupleofweeks,Ossaid,what’stheuse?Andsentherhome.”

The story had circulated that when her lowlander parents had died in anaccident, her only living relations had turned out to be distant cousins fromMountEskel.SoonespringmorningBrittahadcomeridingonatraderwagonwith a bag of clothes and food supplies bought from the sale of her parents’remainingpossessions.At leastnowshewaswearinga shirt and leggings liketherestoftheminsteadofdressescutfromdyedcloth.

“Ican’tbelievePederthinksshe’spretty,”saidEsa.Miricoughed.“Hedoes?Idon’tthinksheis.Imean,sheactslikeshe’stoo

goodtotalktoanyone.”“Alllowlandersthinkthey’reaboveus,”saidFrid.“We’re theoneson themountain,”saidMiri,“soaren’twetheonesabove

them?”Esasmirkedatoneofthesoldiers,andFridmadefists.Mirismiled,warmed

bytheirsharedsentiments.For three hours they wove around the puddles, holes, and boulders of

quarries long ago abandoned, until at last they spied the roof of the academy.Miri had seen it six years ago,when the village had held their spring holidayinside its stonewalls.Afterward they had deemed thewalk too long to do soagain.

Itwascalled the stoneminister’shouse, and thevillagersassumed that thestructure had once housed a courtminister who oversaw the quarry. No suchpersonnowlivedonthemountain,butthehousedidprickinMiriadesiretoseewhat otherwonders theremight be in the lowlander kingdom, just out of hersight.

Even fromafarMiri coulddetect awhitegleam—polished linderhadbeenlaidasthefoundation,theonlyfinishedlindershehadeverseen.Andthoughtherestofthehousehadbeenbuiltfromgrayrubblerock,thestonesweresquared,smoothed,andfittedtogetherinperfection.Threestairsledtothemaindoorandcolumns supporting a carved pediment. Workers perched on the roof, fixingweather damage.Other lowlanders replaced emptywindowswith glass panes,pulled up grass growing between the floorstones and steps, and swept awayyearsofdirt.

The arriving girls milled around, peeking into wagons or gawking at thecommotion.Therewere twentyof them, fromGertiwhowasbarely twelve toBenawhowasseventeenandahalf.

A woman appeared in the building entrance. She was tall and lean, hercheekssunken,herhair flaton theend likeachisel.Shewaited,andMiri feltself-conscious of themountain girls, all standing about and staring, unsure ofwhattodo.

“Stepcloser,”saidthewoman.Miritriedtolineupevenwiththeothers,butnooneelseseemedtohaveher

idea,andtheyformedasmallmobratherthanastraightline.“Isee Ididnotunderestimate thedegreeof finishingmountaingirlswould

require.”Thewomanpressedher lips in a twitch. “I amOlanaMansdaughter.You will address me as Tutor Olana. I’ve heard about Danland’s outlyingterritories—no towns,nomarketplace,nonoble families.Well.Onceyoupassthesecolumnsandenterthisbuilding,you’reagreeingtoobeymeinallthings.Imusthaveabsoluteorder in thisacademyifeverIamto turnuneducatedgirlsintoladies.Isthatunderstood?”

FridsquintedatOlana.“So,areyousayingthatwedon’thave togoto theacademyifwedon’twantto?”

Olanaclickedhertongue.“ThisisevenworsethanIexpected.Imayaswellsetuptheacademyinabarn.”

Frid’sexpressionbecametroubled,andshelookedaround,tryingtofathomwhatshehaddonewrong.

“Pleaseexcuseourrudeness,TutorOlana.”Katarsteppedforward.Hercurly

hairwasreddishliketheclaybedsbesidethevillagestream.ShewasthetallestgirlafterBena,andsheheldherselfasthoughsheweretallerthananymanandtwiceastough.

“Wemust seempretty rustic toyou,” saidKatar, “butwe’re ready toentertheacademy,learntherules,anddoourbest.”

Someofthegirlsseemednonetooeager,withbackwardglancesandshiftingfeet,butOshadbeenclear.Mostnoddedormurmuredinagreement.

Olanaseemeddoubtfulbutsaid,“Thenlet’shavenomorenonsenseandinyougo.”

AssoonasOlanawasbeyondearshot,Katarturnedtoglareatthegirls.“Andtrynottoactsoignorant,”shehissed.

Miristareddownassheenteredthebuilding,lettingthetipofherbootslideacrossa floorstone—whiteascream,with thepalest streaksof rose. It seemedremarkablethatwithnoonetotendit,thestonehadhelditslusterforsomanydecades.Thevillagershadtocleanandoilthewoodenchapeldoorsregularlytokeepthemundamaged.

Olanaledthegirlsthroughthecavernoushouse,warningthemtostaysilent.Thewallsandfloorwerebare,andOlana’svoiceandtheclickofherbootheelsechoedoverMiri’sheadandunderherfeet,makingherfeelsurrounded.

“Thebuildingistoolargeforourneeds,”saidOlana,indicatingthatmostofthedozenormorechamberswouldbeleftclosedandunusedsotheywouldnotneedtobeheatedthroughthewinter.Theacademywouldconfineitselftothreemainrooms.

They followedOlana into a long room thatwould serve as a bedchamber.Severalrowsofpalletslayonthefloor.Thefarwallheldonehearthforwarmthandonewindowfacinghome.Mirimusedthatthegirlsonpalletsfarthestfromthefirewouldbemightycold.

“Ihaveaseparatebedchamberjustdownthecorridor,andifIhearnoisesatnight, I . . .” Olana paused, an expression of disgust crawling over her face.“Whatastench!Doyoupeoplelivewithgoats?”

Theydid,ofcourse,livewithgoats.Noonehadthetimetobuildaseparatehouse for the goats, and having them indoors helped both the goats and the

peoplekeepwarminthewinter.DoIreallystink?Mirilookedawayandprayednoonewouldanswer.

“Well,afewdaysheremightairouttheodor.Onecanhope.”Nexttheyvisitedthehugechamberinthecenterofthebuildingthatwould

serveasadininghall.Alargehearthwithacarvedlinderheadpiecewastheonlyindication that the roommighthavebeengrandonce.Nowitwasbarebut forsimplewoodtablesandbenches.

“ThisisKnut,theacademy’sall-workman,”saidOlana.Aman stepped through the adjacent kitchendoorway and cast his gazeup

and down as though unsure if he should meet their eyes. His hair was grayaroundhistemplesandinhisbeard,andhegrippedastirringspooninhisrighthandinawaythatremindedMiriofherpawithhismallet.

“Hewill be very busy,” said Olana, “as will you all, so don’t waste timeaddressinghim.”

TheintroductionseemedbrusquetoMiri,soshesmiledatKnutastheyleft,andhereturnedaflickerofasmile.

Olanaledthegirlsbackthroughthemaincorridorandintoalargeroomwiththree glass windows and two hearths. Wood fires were a rare luxury in thevillage,andthesmokewasfreshandinviting.Sixrowsofchairswithwoodenboardssecuredtotheirarmsfilledupmostofthespace.Attheheadoftheroom,ashelfofleather-boundbookshungoveratableandchair.

Olanadirectedthemtositinrowsaccordingtotheirage.MiritookherseatonarowwithEsaandthetwootherfourteen-year-olds,putherhandsinherlap,andtriedtoappearattentive.

“Iwillbeginwiththerules,”saidOlana.“Therewillbeabsolutelynotalkingoutof turn. Ifyouhaveaquestion,youwillkeep it toyourselfuntil I ask forquestions. Any nonsense, any mischief, any disobedience, will result inpunishment.

“This teachingpositionwassupposed tobeanhonor. I’llhaveyouknowIleftapostattheroyalpalacetutoringtheprince’sowncousinstoclimbuphereandbaby-sitdustygoatgirls, though I supposeyoudon’t evenknowwhat theroyalpalaceis.”

Mirisatupstraighter.Sheknewwhatthepalacewas—averybighousewithalotofroomswherethekinglived.

“Well,deservedornot,youarenowpartofahistoricundertaking.Inthepasttwocenturies,theprincessacademyhasmerelybeenaformality,withthenoblegirlsofthechosentowngatheringforafewdaysofsocietybeforetheprince’sball.

“SinceMount Eskel ismerely a territory, not a province, ofDanland, andyoucannotboastofanynoblefamilies,thechiefdelegatebelievestheacademymust be taken very seriously this generation. Never before have the priestsnamed a territory the chosen region. I may tell you that the king and hisministersarequiteuneasyaboutmarryingtheprincetoanunpolishedgirlfromanoutlyingterritory.Thereforethekinggrantedmethesolemnresponsibilitytoverifythateverygirlsenttotheballisfittobecometheprincess.IfanyofyoufailtolearnthebasiclessonsIteachyouthisyear,youwillnotattend,youwillnotmeettheprince,andyouwillreturntoyourvillagedisgraced.

“Now, I understand that there is a true Danlander among us, is that so?”Olanasighedatthesilencethatfollowed.“I’mrequestingaresponse.Ifanyofyouwerenotbornonthismountain,youhavemypermissiontospeaknow.”

MostofthegirlshadturnedtolookatBrittasittinginthefifteen-year-olds’rowbeforesheraisedherhand.

“IwasborninthecityofLonway,TutorOlana.”Olana smiled. “Yes, you do have a look in you of some breeding. Your

name?”“Britta.”“Is that it? What’s your father name? I would expect the villagers to be

ignorantofsuchaformality,butnotonefromLonway.”Miri adjusted in her seat.Theywere not ignorant—agirl took her father’s

nameandaboy tookhismother’sname tohelpdistinguish themfromanyoneelsewiththesamefirstname.MountEskelsharedsomeDanlandiantraditions,itseemed.

“I’morphanedthisyear,TutorOlana,”saidBritta.“Well then,”saidOlana, looking illateaseathow to respond.“Well, such

thingshappen.I’llexpectyoutoleadtheclassinyourstudies,ofcourse.”ThestarespointedatBrittabegantoturntoglares.“Yes,TutorOlana.”Britta kept her eyesonher hands.Miri suspected that

shewasgloating.Thenbegantheinstruction.Olanaheldupashallowboxfilledwithsmooth

yellowclay.Withashortstickcalledastylus,shemarkedthreelinesintheclay.“Doanyofyouknowwhatthisis?”Miri frowned. She knew it was a letter, that it had something to do with

reading,butshedidnotknowwhatitmeant.Herembarrassmentwasappeasedsomewhatbythegeneralsilencethatfollowed.

“Britta,”saidOlana,“telltheclasswhatthisis.”Miriwaitedforhertospoutthebrilliantanswerandrevelinherknowledge,

butBrittahesitated,thenshookherhead.“Surelyyouknow,Britta,sosaysonowbeforeIlosepatience.”“I’msorry,TutorOlana,butIdon’tknow.”Olanafrowned.“Well.Brittawillnotbeanexampletotheclassafterall. I

amcurioustoseewhowilljumpforwardtotakeherplace.”Katarsatupstraighter.WhileOlanaexplainedthebasicsofreading,Miri’sthoughtskeptflittingto

Britta.One summer tradingday,Miri hadoverheardBritta readwordsburnedintothelidofabarrel.WasshepretendingignorancenowsoshecouldamazeOlanalaterwithhowquicklyshewouldseemtolearn?Lowlandersareascleverastheyaremean,thoughtMiri.

HerattentionsnappedawayfromBrittawhenGerti,theyoungestgirl,raisedherhandandinterruptedOlana’slecture.“Idon’tunderstand.”

“Whatwasthat?”saidOlana.Gertiswallowed,realizingthatshehadjustbrokentheruleofspeakingout

ofturn.Shelookedaroundtheroomasifforhelp.“Whatwasthat?”Olanarepeated,pullinghervowelslong.“Isaid,Ijust,I’msorry...I’msorry.”“Whatisyourname?”“Gerti,”shebreathed.

“Standup,Gerti.”Gertileftherchairslowly,asthoughlongingtoreturntoitssafety.“Thislittlegirlisgivingmeanopportunitytoillustratetheconsequencesof

rule breaking. Even the prince’s cousins are punished when they choose tomisbehave,thoughIthinkI’llemployslightlydifferentmethodsforyou.Followme,Gerti.”

ThetutorledGertioutoftheroom.TherestofthegirlssatmotionlessuntilOlanareturnedwithtwosoldiers.

“Gertiisinaclosetthinkingaboutspeakingoutofturn.Thesefinesoldierswill be staying with us this winter. Should any of you have ideas aboutquestioningmy authority, they are here tomake it clear. Eachweek that youshowamarkedimprovement,youarepermittedtoreturnhomefortherestday,soletuscontinueourstudieswithnofurtherinterruptions.”

At sundown, the workmen on the roof stopped hammering and Miri firstnoticedthenoisefor itsabsence.PaandMardawouldbehomebynow,whitedustwaftingfromtheirworkclothes.MardawouldsayhowshemissedMiri,herconversation,maybeevenhercabbagesoup.WhatwouldPasay?

In the dining hall, the girls ate fried herring stuffed with barley porridge,onions,andunfamiliarflavors.Mirisuspecteditwasafancymealandmeanttomarkaspecialoccasion,butthestrangespicesmadeitfeelforeignandunkind,areminderthattheyhadbeentakenawayfromhome.

Noonespoke,andthesoundsofsippingandchewingechoedonbarestonewalls. Olana dined in her own room, but no one could be certain if she waslisteningandwouldemergeatthefirstsound,trailingsoldiersinherwake.

Later in their bedchamber, the tension had wound so tight, it burst into aflurry ofwhispered conversations. Gerti reported on the closet and scratchingsoundsshehadheardinthedark.Twooftheyoungergirlscriedforwantingtogohome.

“Idon’t think it’s fair thewayOlana treatsus,”Miriwhispered toEsaandFrid.

“Mymawouldhaveathingtosaytoher,”saidEsa.“Maybewe should go home,” saidMiri. “If our parents knew, theymight

changetheirmindsaboutmakingusstay.”“Hushupthatkindoftalk,Miri,”saidKatar.“IfOlanaoverheard,she’dhave

thesoldierswhipusall.”The conversation lagged and then stopped, but Miri was too tired and

anxious to sleep. She watched the night shadows shift and creep across theceiling and listened to the low, rough breathing of the other girls. Her pulseclickedinherjaw,andsheheldontothatnoise,triedtotakecomfortfromit,asifthequarryandhomewereasnearasherheart.

n

ChapterFour

nTellmyfamilytogoaheadandeatTomakeithomeI’dhavetomovemyfeet

Butthemount’smadestonewheremyfeetnumberedtwoAndI’veswallowedmoredustthanIcanchew

nThe next day, the workers finished the repairs and left the academy, leavingOlana,Knut,twosoldiers,andanunfamiliarsilence.Mirimissedthepoundingandscrapingandbeating,soundsthatmeantworkinthequarrywasgoingonasusualandnoonewasinjured.Thequiethauntedherallweek.

Inthemorningsbeforelessonsstarted,thegirlsspentanhourdoingchores,washing and sweeping, fetching wood and water, and helping Knut in thekitchen. Miri spied the other girls stealing minutes of conversation at thewoodpileorbehindtheacademy.Perhapstheydidnotmeantoexcludeher,shethought,perhapstheyweresimplyusedtooneanotherfromworkingtogetherinthe quarry. She found herself wishing desperately for Marda at her side, orPeder,whohadsomehowremainedherfriend,unchanged,overtheyears.

SheglancedatBrittacarryingabucketofwatertothekitchenandwonderedforthefirsttimeiftherewasmoretohersilencethanjustpride.Thenagain,shewasalowlander.

Neartheweek’send,thegirlscouldbarelyfollowtheirlessons,sorichwastheanticipationofbeingabletosleepbytheirhomefiresandattendchapel,toseetheirfamiliesandreportalltheyhadsufferedandlearned.

“We can walk home tonight,” Esa whispered to Frid when Olana left theroom for a moment. Then she turned to Miri, her expression full of happyanticipation.“Idon’tcarehowlate,sowe’llhavealldaytomorrow!”

Mirinodded,pleasedtohavebeenincluded.When Olana continued the reading instruction,Miri noticed Gerti rubbing

herforeheadasifthinkinggaveherpain.Nodoubtthetimeshehadspentintheclosettheirfirstdayputherbehind.Shewouldneedextrahelpifshewaseverto

catchup.Therewasavillage saying thatMiri thoughtofmore thananyother: “The

unfair thingstings likenettlesonbare skin.” Itwasnot fair thatOlanahad letGerti lag behind and did nothing about it. Miri’s instinct prodded her to dosomething, so shewent toGerti and crouched by her desk, clinging to awildhopethatOlanawouldseethejusticeinheractionandletherbe.

“I’ll help you, Gerti,” said Miri quietly. She drew the first character onGerti’stablet.“Doyouknowwhatthisis?”

“Whatisgoingon?”askedOlana.“Gertimissedthefirstlesson,”saidMiri.“Sheneedshelp.”“Comehere,bothofyou,”saidOlana.Gerti’smouthdroppedopen,andshegrippedthesidesofherdesk.“Gertididn’tdoanything,”saidMiri,standing.She wished for words to defend herself, but Olana did not ask for an

explanation.Shepickedupawhittledstickaslongasherarm.“Holdoutyourhand,Miri,palmup.”Miristuckoutherhandandwasdismayedtoseeittremble.Olanaliftedthe

stick.“Wait,” saidMiri,pullingherhandback. “Iwashelping.Howcanyouhit

meforhelping?”“Youwere speaking out of turn,” saidOlana. “Continuing to do sowon’t

excuseyou.”“Thisisn’tfair,”saidMiri.“Onthefirstday inclass, Imadeclear thatabrokenrulewouldresult ina

punishment. If Idon’t follow throughonmyword, thatwouldbeunfair.Holdoutyourhand.”

Miricouldthinkofnoresponse.Sheopenedherfingerstoexposeherpalm.Olana brought the stick downwith a crack and a sting, andMiri’s arm shookwiththeeffortofnotpullingaway.Asecondtime,andathird.Shelookedattheceilingandtriedtopretendshehadnotfeltathing.

“And now, miss, we should deal with you,” said Olana, turning to theyoungergirl.

“Gertididn’taskforhelp.”Miriswallowedandtriedtocalmherquaveringvoice.“Itwasmyfault.”

“Soitwas.Nowyouallhavelearnedthatthosewhospeakoutofturnchoosepunishmentforthemselvesandanyonetheyspeakto.”

“SoifIspeaktoyou,TutorOlana,willyougetthelashes?”Mirihadhopedtodrawoutalaughandeasethefriction,butthegirlsstayed

asquietashuntedprey.Olana’slipstwitchedinanger.“Thatwillearnyouthreelashesonyourlefthandaswell.”GertitookherthreelashesandMirihersagainontheotherhand.Whenthe

lesson continued,Miri found it difficult to grip her stylus. She kept her headdown and focused onmaking each character just right in the clay. SometimesshecouldhearGerti’sbreathcatchinherthroat.

“Olana.”Asoldierenteredtheroom.“Someonefromthevillagehascome.”Olana followed him out, and Miri could hear her voice echo from the

corridor.“Whatdoyouwant?”“Thevillagesentmetoaskwhenthegirlsarecominghome,”camethevoice

ofaboy.ExpectationcrossedEsa’sface,andBenaandLianawhisperedandgiggled.

Miri’sowninsidesfeltbuoyantandsickatonce.Pederwasjustoutside.“Youtellthevillagethateverythingisfine.Iknowthesoldiersexplainedto

theirparentsthatImusthaveabsolutefreedomtoteachandtrainthegirlsifIamtosucceed.Theywillvisithomewhentheyearnit,anddisruptingmyclasswithquestionswillnotbringthemhomeanysooner.”

Olanacamebackandresumedherlecture.Throughthewindow,MiricouldseePederstandinginfrontoftheacademy,tryingtoseepastthesun’sglareonthewindows.Hekickedtheground,pickedupapieceofscraplinderlargerthanhisfist,andranbacktowardthevillage.

AtnoonwhenOlanadismissed them to thedininghall,Miri’s palmswerestillred.Herthoughtsandemotionsplayedagameoftug-ropeinsideher.Thatshe should be punished for helping Gerti. That she should be ignored andhumiliated.ThatPederhadcomeall thiswayandbeendismissed,andshehadnot been able even towave.And added to it the ever-present shame of being

useless.“Thisisstupid,”Mirisaidassoonastheyhadexitedtheclassroom.Katar,whowalkedbesideher,said,“Hush,”andglancedbacktoseeifOlana

hadheard.“Let’s go home,” Miri said a little louder. Her gut still felt hollow since

seeingPeder,andherstinginghandsfeltbiggerthanhercaution.“Wecanleavebeforethesoldiersevenknowwe’regone,andifweallrunatonce,they’llnevercatchus.”

“Stop!” The commanding voice made Miri halt midstep. No one turnedaround.TheclickofOlana’sbootheelscamecloser.

“WasthatMirispeaking?”Miri did not answer. She thought if she spoke, shemight cry. ThenKatar

nodded.“Well,”saidOlana,“anotheroffense.Ididsayearlierthatspeakingoutwas

punishablenotonlytotheperpetrator,buttoherlisteners,isn’tthatright?”Someofthegirlsnodded.Katarglared.“Noneofyouwillbereturningtoyourfamiliestomorrow,”saidOlana.“You

willspendtherestdayinpersonalstudy.”Mirifeltasifshehadbeenslapped.Acryofprotestarose.“Silence!”Olana raisedherwalking stick. “There isnothing todebate. It’s

time you learned you are part of a countrywith laws and rules, and there areconsequences for disobedience.Now back to the classroom. Therewill be nonoonmealtoday.”

Thegirlsmademorenoisethanusualtakingtheirseats,asiftogivevoicetotheiranger,scrapingthewoodchairlegsagainstthestonefloor,clatteringtheirtabletsontheirdesks.Inthequietthatfollowed,MiriheardFrid’sstomachmoaninhunger.Normally,Miriwouldhave laughed.Shepressedherstylussohardintotheclaythatitsnappedintwo.

Thatafternoon,Olanaletthegirlsgooutforsomeexercise.Theypulledoncloaksandhats,butonceoutsideMiritookhersoff.Theinstantcoldfeltfreshand freeingafterallday in the fire-heatedclassroom.She longed to run likearabbit,solightthatshewouldleavenotrackstofollow.

Thenshenoticedthatshewasstandingaloneandtheotherswereinagroup,facing her. The oldest girls stood in front, arms crossed. Miri thought sheunderstoodhowalostgoatwouldfeelonmeetingapackofwolves.

“It’s not my fault,” said Miri, afraid admitting that she was sorry wouldcondoneOlana’sactions.“Herrulesareunfair.”

FridandEsaglancedback to see ifOlanawasnear,but itwasunderstoodthatoutside,thegirlscouldtalk.

“Don’t rush to apologize,” said Katar, flipping her orange hair out of theneckofhercloak.

Miri’schinbegantoquiver,andshecovereditwithherhandandtriedtoactunaffected.Ifeveryonethoughthertooweaktoworkinthequarry,atleastshecouldshowthemshewastoostrongtocry.

“Iwas trying to stand up for all of us. This is another case of lowlanderstreatingmountainfolklikeworn-throughboots.”

Benaglared.“Youwerewarned,Miri.Whycan’tyoujustfollowtherules?”“No one should have to follow unfair rules.We could all run home right

now. We don’t have to stay and put up with closets and palm lashings andinsults.Ourparentsshouldknowwhat’sgoingon.”Miriwishedthatshecouldfind the rightwords toexpressherangerandfearand longing,but toherownearsherargumentsoundedforced.

“Don’tyoudare,”Katarsaid,foldingherarms.“Youdothatandtheymightshutdowntheacademyandasktheprieststoannouncesomeotherplaceasthehome of the future princess. Then we’ll all lose our chance because of you,Miri.”

Miristared.Noonewaslaughing.“Youreallythinkthey’llletoneofusbeaprincess?”sheasked,hervoicedryandquiet.

“Ofcourse,actingthewayMiridoesshe’dneverbechosen,but there’snoreasontherestofuscan’t try.”Katar’susuallyconfidentvoicebegantosoundpinched and strained, as if, for some reason Miri could not guess, she wasdesperatetoconvincetheothers.“Beingaprincesswouldmeanmorethanjustmarryingaprince—you’llseetherestofthekingdom,liveinapalace,fillyourbelly everymeal, have a roaring fire allwinter long.Andyou’ll do important

things,thekindsofthingsthataffectanentirekingdom.”Bespecial,important,comfortable,happy.ThatwaswhatKatarwasoffering

withherplea to stay.Someof thegirls shuffledcloser, leaned slightly towardKatar, as if feeling the pull of her story.Miri was embarrassed to feel chillssneakacrossherownskin.Whatwouldherpathinkofherifshewaschosenoutofalltheothergirlstobeaprincess?

Itwasalovelyidea,abeautifulstory,andforamomentshewishedshecouldbelieveit,butsheknewnolowlanderwouldletacrownsitonamountaingirl’shead.

“Itwon’thappen...,”Miriwhispered.“Oh,bequiet,”saidKatar.“You’vemadeusloseamealandareturnhome.

Don’tyoudarespoilourchancesofbecomingaprincess.”Olana called, and all the girls, evenGerti, turned their backs onMiri and

went inside.Miri staredat theground,hopingnoonewould seehowher faceburned.Shefollowedtheminatthebackoftheline.

Britta walked just ahead of her in the corridor. Before they entered theclassroom,thelowlandergirlturnedandsmiled.MirialmostsmiledbackbeforesherealizedthatBrittamustbegloryinginherdisgrace.Shefrownedandlookedaway.

The next day was unbearable. Although Olana insisted returning to thevillage each rest day should be an occasional privilege, she also declared shemusthaveabreakfromthegirlsunlesssheweretogomad.Sothegirlspassedthat dayunsupervised in the classroom.Miri sat alone, aware that even as thenoiseoflevitygrew,shewasnotinvitedtotakepart.WhenaconversationfellonthetopicofOlana,Miriofferedwhatshethoughtwasaremarkableimitationof the tutor’s pinched lips. No one laughed, and Miri resigned herself topracticingherlettersinsilence.

She spent the nextweek counting hours until rest day. Surely after all thegirlscouldsleepbytheirownfiresforanight,thetensionwouldease.PerhapswhenMiritoldherpaabouttherulesandthepalmlashing,hewouldadmithehadmadeamistake,thatheneededherhomejustasmuchasheneededMarda.Justthreemoredaystofreedom,thentwo,one.

Thenthatnight,snowfell.Theschoolawoketowhitedriftsthatrivaledthevillage’sstrewnrockdebris

forcoveringeverythingand threatening tokeeppilingup to theirwindowsills.Thegirlswerequietastheylookedoutside, imaginingthedistancebacktothevillage, the hidden holes and boulders they would not be able to see for thesnowfall,weighingthedangeragainsttheirdesiretogohome.

“To the classroom, then,” said Olana, ushering them away from theirbedchamberwindow.“Noonewillbewalkingthroughthisweather,andif thetale I hear of this mountain is correct, we’ll be huddling inside until springthaw.”

Olanastoodattheheadoftheclass,herhandsclaspedbehindherback.Mirifeltherselfsituptallerunderthatgaze.

“Katar has informedme that somedoubt the legitimacyof this academy. Iwon’t riskhavingflabby-mindedgirls topresent toHisHighnessnextyear,soletmeassureyou,theprincewillchooseoneofyoutomarry,andyouwillliveinthepalace,becalled‘princess,’andwearacrown.”

OlanacalledtoKnut,andheenteredtheclassroomwithsomethingsilveryinhisarms.Olanatookitfromhimandshookitout.Itwasagown,andperhapsthemostbeautifulthingMirihadeverseenbesideshermountainview.Theclothwasunlikeanything sheknew, sleekand light, and remindedherof a runningstream. Itwas gray in its folds and shimmered silverwhere thewindow lighttouchedit.Palepinkribbonsgatheredthefabricattheshouldersandwaist,andtinyrosebudsscatteredonthelongfullskirts.

“Thisdress,”saidOlana,“isliketheonesthataprincesswouldwear.Aroyalseamstress crafted it for whichever girl finishes this year as head of theacademy.”

Thegirlsgaspedandsighedandoohed tooneanother, and foronceOlanadidnothushthem.

“Let us see who wants this gift the most. The victorious girl will beintroduced to theprince as the academyprincess, and shewillwear this dressanddancethefirstdance.Hisbridewillstillbehistochoose,buttheacademyprincessissuretomakeasignificantimpression.”

AsOlanaspoke,hereyesflickedtoFrid,andMiriimaginedshewashopingthatthebroadgirlwouldnotbethevictor,asshewastoobigforthedressasitwas.ButFrid’sfacedidnotrevealanyconcernforthegarment’ssize.Sheogledthe silvery thingwith eyes evenwider than usual.Miri tried her best to lookunimpressedbutcouldnothelpwondering,Whatwoulditfeelliketowearsuchadress?

“Bewarned that youwill not easilymeetmy expectations,” saidOlana. “Ihaveveryrealdoubts thatmountaingirlsarecapableofmeasuringup tootherDanlanders. Your brains are naturally smaller, I’ve heard. Perhaps due to thethinmountainair?”

Miriglowered.EvenifOlana’spromisesweretrue,Miriwouldnotwanttomarryalowlander,apersonwhodespisedherandthemountain.Princeorno,hewouldbelikeOlana,likeEnrikandthetraders,likethechiefdelegatefrowningat thesightof themountainfolkandall tooeager togetbackintohiscarriageanddriveaway.

Sherubbedhereyes,andtheclayonherfingersgotunderherlidsandmadethemsting.Shewastiredoflowlandersbelittlingherandtiredofwonderingifthey were right. She was going to show Olana that she was as smart as anyDanlander.Shewasgoingtobeacademyprincess.

n

ChapterFive

EverybodyknowsthatthebestthingscomelastThat’swhymymasaysI’mlastineverything

Ialwayswearcast-offshirtsandworn-throughboots,Scrapethebottomofthepot,andbathedownstream

nOnce,words had been invisible toMiri, as unknown and uninteresting as themovements of a spider inside a rockwall.Now they appeared all around her,standing up, demanding notice—on the spines of books in the classroom,marking the barrels of food in the kitchen and storeroom, carved into a linderfoundationstone:InthethirteenthyearofthereignofKingJorgan.

OnedayOlanathrewoutaparchment,andMirisnatcheditfromthegarbagepile,keptitunderherpallet,andpracticedreadingitbyfirelighttothesoundofsnores.Itlistedthenamesoftheacademygirlsandtheirages.Mirifeltathrilltickleherhearttoreadherownnameinink.“MardaLarendaughter”wasthereaswell,thoughhernamewascrossedout.Onthelist,Brittahadnofathername.

ThrowingherselfintolearninghelpedMiriignorethepainfulchillofsolitudearoundher.As they fell two, three, and then fourweeks intowinter,Miri feltutterly frozen inherblunder.She thought about tryingagain tomakeamends,butthesilenceoftheothergirlsmeanttheyhadnotforgottenhowMirihadcostthemthelastpossiblevisithomebeforesnowfell.EvenEsadidnotsaveMiriaplaceinthedininghall;evenFridfailedtoofferacasualsmile.Mirishruggedawaythehurtandtoldherselftheyhadnevertrulybeenherfriends.

MirimissedPeder.Shemissedtheeaseofalwaysknowingexactlywhathewastryingtosay,andshemissedtheagitationofhisnearnesswhenherfingersfeltthickandclumsyandhermouthdry.Watchinghimswingamalletorthrowastone,listeningtothepleasantraspofhisvoice,thewayhelaughedwheneverheheardherlaugh.Feelingherselfleantohimasshewouldtowarmherselfatafire.

Outside the classroom window, the snow kept falling. Miri looked away,

struckby the throbbing inherchest.Shehadcaughtherself longingforspringandtheirreturnandwasslicedbysharptruth—shemissedMarda,Pa,andPeder,butdidtheymissher?Shefocusedonhertabletandstudiedtwiceashard.

Onelateafternoon,Olanasetthegirlslooseoutside.TheyhadspentalldayattheirdesksexceptfortwoouthousebreaksandoneofKnut’sincreasinglysadmeals—salt fish boiled tomush and potatoeswithout somuch as a ribbon ofgreaseorgrainofsalttocheerthem.Fridhadreceivedapalmlashingforfallingasleep during quiet study, and Gerti had spent an hour in the closet forwhimperingwhenshecouldnotdrawthelastletterofthealphabet.

Miriwatchedthegirlsfileoutandconsideredjoiningthem.Sheyearnedtoforgetthatshehadcostthemajourneyhomeandgooutsmilingandlaughing,oreven just to run through the snow alone and relish the cold air stinging hercheeks.

Butifshestayedindoors,shewouldhavetheclassroomtoherself.Shehadbeenhopingforthischanceallweek.

When she heard the last footsteps fade down the corridor,Miri stood andstretched. Thirteen books stood on a high shelf aboveOlana’s desk.Miri hadcounted them,had read their spines andanticipatedwhatmightbe inside.Shestoodonhertoesandpulledonedown.

The wordsHistory of Danland were painted in white on the dark leatherspine.Thebooksmelleddustyandoldbutalsocarrieda sweet tang,ahintofsomethinginviting.Sheopenedtothefirstpageandstartedtoread,pronouncingthewordsinareverentwhisper.

Shedidnotunderstandathing.Three times she read the first sentence, and though she could speak the

individualwords, she could not understandwhat they allmeant together. Sheshutthebookandopenedanother,DanlanderCommerce.WhatwasCommerce,anyway?Sheput itawayandopenedanother,andanother,and feltanurge tostartthrowingthem.ShehadjustpulleddownathinnerbooktitledsimplyTaleswhen thesoundofbootheelsonflagstonesmadeherheart jump.Mirididnotknowifshewouldbepunishedforborrowingabook,anditwastoolatetoputitback.Shestuffeditunderhershirt.

“Miri,” saidOlana, entering. “Not even a stretch today?Do the other girlshateyousomuch?”

Olana’s comment stung.Miri had not known her distance from the otherswasobvious.Shepressedthehiddenbooktohersideandsaunteredoutof theclassroom.

For thenext twoweeks,when theotherswentoutside,Miri curledup inacornerofthebedchamber,thebookoftalesonherlap.Shestruggledatfirst,butsoon thewordsmadesense together, and then the sentencesbuilton thepage,and then the pages made stories. It was marvelous. Stories were inside thosetediousletterstheyhadbeenlearningallalong,storiesliketheonessheheardatspringholidayorthatPeder’sgrandfathertoldbeforeafireonacoldnight.Andnowshecouldreadthembyherself.

Severaldayslater,Olanatookabookfromtheshelfandhandedittosomeoftheoldergirls.ThoughKatarreadbetterthantherest,shestillstumbledovertheunfamiliarwords,soundingthemoutlaboriously.Brittaaswellcouldbarelygetthroughasentence.Her ruddycheeks turnedevenredder.Miriconsidered thatshehadbeenmistakenandBrittahadneverbeenabletoread.

“Whatashame.”OlanatookthebookfromBrittaandturnedtoMiri.“Well,you’reayoungone,butyouseemfocusedoflate.”

ThebookwasHistoryofDanland, thedarkbrowntomeMirihadtriedandfailed to read before. Olana opened it to the second page and pointed to aparagraph.Miri’s tongue feltmadeofclay.Sheclearedher throat,gripped thebook,andbegan.

“Our ancestors came from the north and farmed the fertile central plains.Theyalsoraisedherdsofcattle,horses,mountaingoats,sheep,andfowl.Alongthecoast,fishingbecameoneoftheirmostimportantindustries,asitistoday.”

ThewordsseemedtoglideacrossMiri’stongue,eachonefallingintoplace.Shehadneverseenthepassagebefore,butstudyingthebookoftaleshadmadereadinganythingeasier.Shestutteredoveracoupleofwordsbutsoundedthemoutallright.

“Well, girls,” said Olana when Miri finished, “if the prince were comingtomorrow,youknowwhowouldwearthesilvergown.”

MirifeltagrinbreakherfaceandhadtheunlikelyimpulsetogiveOlanaahug. Katar’s frown deepened into a glare. Miri swallowed and tried to lookmodest,butitwastoolate.Katarwasusuallythebestintheclass,andsurelyshethoughtMiri’ssmilemeant thatshewasgloating.Hervictorysouredlikemilkleftstanding.

Thateveningasshereturnedfromtheouthouse,Mirihaltedatthesoundofhushed voices coming from the front of the academy. She took a few stepsbackward, easing her boots through the hard shell of the snow. Whisperingmeant secrets, and it raised a shiver of curiosity on Miri’s skin. She leanedagainstthewallandstrainedtopickwordsoutofthequietdrone.Herownnamespokeninawhispermadeherfeelqueasy.

“...can’tstandMiri...actslikeshe’ssosmart...”ThatvoicebelongedtoBena.“...neverlikedthewayshehungonPeder...becomingunbearable...”

“...justluckytoday,”saidLiana.“Shewon’t...”“She’s just fourteen,” said Katar, speaking much louder than the others.

“Whatareyouworriedabout?”Benamumbledsomethingelse.Katarsnickered.“There’snochanceofthat.Oneoftheoldergirlswillwin.”“Igettheidea,Katar,thatyouthinkyoushouldbeprincess,”saidBena,her

voicescalinghigher.“Butaslongas...”Shereturnedtowhispering,andMiricouldhearnomore.

Miri started on her way again, and the girls quieted as she passed. Lianasmileduncomfortably,Benaglaredat theground,butKatarstaredatMiri,herexpressionunrepentant.Miri returned that stare as though itwere a challenge.Shehadjustraisedadefianteyebrowwhenshetrippedononeofthefrontstepsandfell flat in thesnow.She jumped toher feetand ran inside,chasedby thesoundoftheoldergirlschuckling.

Thatnight,shelayonherpalletinhalingthedarkness.Itwasacomforttoherto be awake as the others slept, as though she elected to be alone, as if sheenjoyedit.Thebedchamberfirewasnothighenoughtowarmheronherpalletat thefarendof theroom,andsheshiveredandwishedforsomethingtohopefor.Sheclosedhereyesandsawthefoldsofthesilverdresstwistandshimmer

beneathherlids.Herdreamsofbecomingacademyprincesswrappedaroundherandeasedthechill.

n

ChapterSix

Whiskerstaut,frontteethbaredShakingbreath,roundeyesscared

nWinter kept falling from the sky, building up under the windowsills, andcrawlingwithfrostoverthepanes.Whencloudskeptthesunfromburningthefrost away,Miri could see the outsideworld only as a grayish blur. Somuchtimeindoors,somuchtimewithnoonetotalkto,wasmakingherfeelwretched.Herbodyached,herskinitchedasthoughshewerewrappedtightinwoolandcouldnotstretch.

Thenext timeOlanadismissed thegirls outside,Esa turned toMiri beforeleaving the classroom and gestured that she should follow. Miri sighed withanticipation. If Esa forgave her, perhaps the others would as well. Herdetermination to be just fine alone melted under the bright hope of makingeverythingallright.

She had one small task first. After waiting until all the girls left theclassroom,Miricrepttothebookshelfforachancetoreturnthevolumeoftales.Shewasstandingonhertiptoes,inchingthebookbackintoplace,whenasoundatthedoorstartledher.Shejumpedanddroppedthebook.

“Whatareyoudoing?”askedOlana.“Sorry,”saidMiri,pickingupthefallenbookanddustingitoff.“Iwasjust.

..”“Justdroppingmybooksonthefloor?Youweren’tplanningonstealingone,

were you?Of course youwere. Iwould have allowed you to borrow a book,Miri,butIwon’ttoleratestealing.Intheclosetwithyou.”

“Thecloset?”saidMiri.“ButIwasn’t...”“Go,”saidOlana,herdingMirilikeasulkygoat.Miriknewtheplace,thoughshehadneverbeeninit.Shelookedbackbefore

steppinginside.

“Forhowlong?”OlanashutthedooronMiriandclickedthelock.The sudden lack of lightwas terrifying.Miri had never been any place so

dark.InwinterMarda,Pa,andMirisleptbythekitchenfire,andinsummertheysleptunderthestars.Shelayonthefloorandpeeredunderthedoorintothethinbandofgraylight.Allshecouldseewerethebulgesoffloorstones.Faintshoutsand happy screeches drifted in from the girls playing in the snow. EsawouldthinkMirihadignoredtheinvitation,thatshedidnotcaretobeherfriend.Miriinhaledsharply,thencoughedonthedust.

A sound of scurrying brought her upright. She heard it again, a noise likefingernailsticklingasmoothsurface.Miriheldherselftighttothewall.Again.Somesmallanimalmustbein thedarkwithher.Itmightbejustamouse,butnot knowingmade the thing strange and unnerving. She tried to see past theshadows.Hereyesadjusted,bringingsomedefinition to thedarkershapes,buttherewasnotenoughlight.

When thescurryingstopped,Miristayedstandinguntilherbackachedandherheadfeltheavy.Shewastiredofstaringatthedark,imaginingshesawfacesstaringbackortinyformsdartinginthecorners.Boredommadehersleepy.Atlastshelaydown,restingherheadonherarms,andwatchedtheslitunderthedoor for a sign of Olana coming to free her. The cold of the stones soakedthroughherwoolshirtandraisedbumpsonherskin,makinghershiverandsighatonce.Shefellasleepwithoutresting.

Miriwoketoatugandahorriblefeeling.Wassomeoneintheroomtryingtowake her? The light bleeding through the door was even dimmer, and thethrobbinginherbodytoldheritwashourslater.

Shefeltitagain,atuggingonherscalp.Somethingwascaughtinherbraid.Shewantedtoscream,butterrorclampeddownonherbreath.Everyspotofherskinachedwiththedreadofwhatmightbetouchingher.Itfeltstrong,toobigtobeamouse.

Thetipofataillickedhercheek.Arat.Miri sobbedbreathlessly, remembering the ratbite thathadkilledavillage

baby some years before. She did not dare to call out for fear of spooking the

beast.Thetuggingstopped,andMiriwaited.Isitfree?Isitgone?Thenthethingthrashedharder.ClosetoherearMiriheardadrysqueal.Shecouldnotmove, shecouldnot speak.How longwouldshehave to lie

thereuntilsomeonecameforher?Herthoughtslungedandrolled,seekingsomewayout,somecomfort.

“‘Plumb line is swinging, spring hawk iswinging, Eskel is singing.’” Shewhisperedasquietlyasaslow-movingstream.Itwasasongofcelebration,ofspringtime, using a weighted cord to square a stone, looking up to a hawkgliding, feeling that theworkwasgoodandthewholeworld just right.Asshesang,shetappedalinderfloorstonewiththepadsofherfingers,asthoughshewereworkinginthequarryandusingquarry-speechtoafriendnearby.

“Mount Eskel is singing,” shewhispered, and began to change thewords,“butMiriiscrying.Aratsheisfighting.”Shealmostmadeherselflaugh,butthesoundofanothersnarltoreitfromherthroat.Afraidnoweventowhisper,shesang in her head, still tapping her fingers in time and with her silent songpleadingwiththedarknessforsomeonetorememberher.

Thedooropened,andcandlelightpiercedhereyes.“A rat!”Olanahadherwalking stick inhandandused it toprodatMiri’s

hair.“Hurry,hurry,”Mirisaid,shuttinghereyes.She heard a squeal, a scamper, and she jumped to her feet and embraced

Olana.Shewastremblingtoohardtostayuprightonherown.“Yes,all right, that’senough,”saidOlana,pryingMiri’sarmsfromaround

her.ThecoldandherfrightmadeMirifeelhalf-dead.Shehuggedherselfagainst

achillthatthreatenedtoshakeherlikeawind-stirredseedpod.“I’vebeen lockedup forhours,” she said,hervoice croaking. “You forgot

aboutme.”“I suppose I did,” saidOlanawithout apology, though deeper lines in her

browspoke that shewasdisturbedby the sightof the rat. “It’swell thatGertirememberedyou,orImightnothavecomeuntilmorning.Nowgetontobed.”

MirinowsawGerti,hereyesaswideasamink’sasshestaredatthegaping

darknessofthecloset.Olanatookhercandleandlefttheminshadows,soMiriandGertihurriedbacktotheirbedchamber.

“Thatwasarat,”saidGerti,soundinghaunted.“Yes.”Miriwasstilltremblingasthoughshewerefrozencold.“Thanksfor

rememberingme,Gerti.Myheartwould’vestoppedifI’dbeeninthereanothermoment.”

“ItwasstrangehowIthoughtofyou,actually,”saidGerti.“Whenwecamebackfrombreakthisafternoon,youwerejustgone.Olananeversaidanything,and Iwas afraid to ask.Thenwhenwewere getting ready for bed, I had thishorriblememory ofwhen Iwas locked up, and I’d heard scratching noises inthere,andIwassosureyouwerelockedupinthecloset,andI...Idon’tknow,butIknewtherewasarat.Itwasalmostlike...Oh,nevermind.”

“Likewhat?”“I’m sure I guessedyouwere in the closet because,where elsewouldyou

be?AndIthoughtIheardaratwhenIwasinthere,too,sothat’showIknew.ButthewaymyvisionkindofshiveredwhenIthoughtaboutit,thewaytheideaofyouandtheratwassoclear,itremindedmeofquarry-speech.”

Mirifeltnewchills.“Quarry-speech?But—”“Iknowthat’ssilly.Itcouldn’thavebeenquarry-speech,becausewe’renot

in the quarry. I’m just gladwe didn’t get into trouble.When Iwent to TutorOlana’sbedchamberandbeggedhertocomegetyou,shethreatenedallkindsofpunishment.”

Miri did not say anything else.Newpossibilitieswere painting themselvesbeforeherinthedark.

n

ChapterSeven

I’vealeverforabanditAndachiselforarat

I’veamalletforashe-wolfAndahammerforacat

nOneafternoontwoorthreeyearsearlier,MiriandPederhadsatonagrazinghillabovethevillage.TheywereyoungenoughthatMirihadnotyetbeguntoworrythathernailsweredirtyandbrokenorthatPederwasboredwithherwords.Hewasthenworkingsixdaysaweekinthequarry,andMirihadpressedhimfordetails.

“It’snot likebuildingafireor tanningagoathide,Miri,not likeanyotherchore.WhenI’mworking,it’sasthoughI’mlisteningtothestone.Don’tscowlatme.Ican’texplainitanybetterthanthat.”

“Try.”Pederhad squintedat the linder shard inhis fingers.Hewasusinga small

knifetocarveitintotheshapeofagoat.“Wheneverything’sgoingright,itfeelslikethesongswesingonholidays,thementakingonepart,thewomenanother.Youknowhow theharmony sounds?That’showworking linder feels. Itmayseemsilly,butIimaginethatlinderisalwayssinging,andwhenIgetmywedgeinjusttherightcrackandbringdownmymalletjustso,IfeellikeI’msingingback.Thequarrysongstheworkerssingaloudaretokeeptime.Therealsinginghappensinside.”

“Inside how?”Miri had asked. She was plaiting miri stems to keep fromappearingtoointerested.“Howdoesitsound?”

“Itdoesn’tactuallysoundlikeanything.Youdon’thearquarry-speechwithyour ears. When something is wrong, it feels wrong, like when I know thepersonnexttomeispushingtoohardwithhisleverandcouldcrackthestone.Whenthathappens,andit’stoonoisyinthequarrytojustsay,‘Easeuponthatlever,’Itelltheminquarry-speech.Idon’tknowwhyitiscalledquarry-speech

since it ismore like singing than speaking, only you’re singing inside.And itsoundslouder,ifyoucandescribeitlikethat,whensomeone’sspeakingdirectlytoyou,buteveryonenearbycanhear.”

“So,youjustsingsomehowandotherpeoplecanhearit,”shehadsaid,notunderstanding.

Peder had shrugged. “I’m talking to a person, but I’m singing, but not outloud....Idon’tknowhowtodescribeit,Miri.It’sliketryingtoexplainhowtorun or swallow. Stop pesteringme or I’ll go find Jans andAlmond andwe’llplayaboys-onlygame.”

“Youdoandit’llbethelastgameyoueverplay.”PederhadnotunderstoodwhyitwasimportanttoMiritounderstandquarry

work, so she had not pressed anymore. She liked that he did not guess herfrustrationand isolation, thatheassumedshe remained the samecarefreeMirishehadalwaysbeen.

Mirinowletthememoryofthisconversationrollaroundinhermind,addingto iteverythingshe thoughtsheknewaboutquarry-speech. Ithadalwaysbeenpartofthequarryandsosomethingshecouldnotdo.HadGertiheardquarry-speech? she wondered. Can it work outside the quarry after all? Just thepossibilitywasasenticingasthesmellofhoneycakesbakingnextdoor.

Thedayaftertherat,Miriwasdoingmorningchores,sweepingtheacademycorridors.Shewaiteduntilnooneelsewasnear,thenduckedintoacold,unusedroom and tried to quarry-speak. She rapped the broom handle on a flagstone,tryingtomimicaquarrytool,andsangaworksongaloud.Thenshechangedthesongtocarrythemessageshewantedtospeak.“I’vealeverforabanditandachiselforarat.Theratwasintheclosettillthetutormadeitscat.”

Sheknewfromwatchingthequarrythattheworkerssangandtappedwhentheyspokequarry-speech,but justchanging thewords to thesongdidnot feelright.

Therealsinginghappensinside,Pederhadsaid.“Maybe in the same way that singing is different from speaking,” she

whispered, trying to reason it out, “quarry-speech is different from justthinking.”

Withasong,thewordsflowedtogetherinamannerthatwasdifferentfromnormalconversation.Therewasarhythmtoit,andthesoundsofthewordsfittogetheras thoughtheyweremadetobesungsidebyside.HowcanIdothatsamethingwithmythoughts?shewondered.

Mirispenttherestofthechorehourtryingitout.Shemadeupsongsassheoftendid,notonlysingingaloud,butfocusingonthesoundofhersong,tryingtomakeherthoughtsresonateandflowinadifferentway,andfocusingonthetinytremorsherknucklessentthroughthelinderstone.Didthespeechrushintotheground?Sheclosedhereyesandimaginedshewassingingherthoughtsrightdowninto thestone,singingof theratandherdesperateneedthatnight in thecloset,pushingherinternalsongwithaquaveringdesiretobeheard.

For the briefestmoment, she felt a change. Theworld seemed to shudder,and her thoughts clicked together. She gasped, but the feeling was gone asquicklyasithadcome.

Olana rapped her stick in the corridor to announce the end of chores, andMirisweptupherpileofdirtandrantotheclassroom.ShewatchedGertitakeherseat,tryingtodetectanysignthattheyoungergirlhadheard.MiririskedaquickquestionbeforeOlanaentered.

“Howareyoufeeling,Gerti?”“Fine.”Gerti sat down, scratched her neck, and then,with a glance at the

doortomakesurethetutorwasnotnear,shewhispered,“IguessIcan’tgetthatratoutofmymind.IwasjustrememberingagainwhenIwasinthecloset....”

OlanacameinandGertiwhippedherselfbackaround.Mirirubbedthechillsfrom her arms. She believed it hadworked, but questions still kept her browwrinkled.Ofallthegirls,whyhadGertiheardherquarry-speechthatnight?Andwhyagain?

When the girls fled the classroom at the next break,Katar fetched a bookfromtheshelfandsatinherchairwithaloudthud.

“Don’tlooksoshocked,Miri,”saidKatarwithoutraisinghereyesfromthebook.“You’renottheonlyonewhocanstudyduringbreaks.Iguessyouthinkacademyprincessisyours,nocompetition.”

“No,”saidMiri,wishingforagood,bitingresponsetopopintoherhead.All

shecouldthinkofwas,“Butmaybeyoudo.”Katarsmiled,apparentlythinkingthatretorttooweaktodeservearesponse.

Miriagreedsilently.Shecouldforceherselftostayintheclassroomforonlyacoupleofminutesbeforeslinkingaway.

Overthenextseveraldays,Katar’spresenceintheclassroomduringbreakskeptMiri scurrying other places to test her quarry-speech—in a corner of thebedchamber,behind theouthouse, andonce in the closet, though just steppinginsidemadeherskin itchas ifcovered inspiders.Moreandmoreoften,whenshe rapped the ground and sang a quarry song, a curious sensation followed.Everythingbeforeherseemedtovibratelikeaflickedtreebranch,andasharp,warmfeelingflaredbehindhereyes.Theideaoftheratandtheclosetfeltroundand real, as thoughshewere living themomentagain.She felther song throbinsideherandimagineditgoingdowninto thestone, into themountain,downandthenupagaintofindsomeonewhocouldhear.

Butoften,nothinghappenedatall.Andshecouldnotfigureoutwhy.Quarry-speech is supposed to be for talking to other people, she thought.

MaybeIneedtotryitwithsomeone.Mirididnotdareapproachanyofthegirlswhoworkedinthequarry.Would

theythinkshewasfoolishtotry?Wouldtheylaugh?OnemorningwhileBrittareadaloudinclass,Miriwatchedher,thinkingthatBrittadidnotknowenoughaboutquarrymatterstolaughatherandwasnotlikelytotattletotheothergirls.Miriwas reluctant to try itwitha lowlander,buther anticipationofdiscoverywasmakingherimpatient.

Thenextafternoonbreak,Mirijoinedtheothersoutside.Thesun’sglareoffthesnowmadehereyeswater,butitseemedthemostbeautifuldayMiricouldremember.Theskywasachinglyblue.Thesnowthatcrunchedunderherbootspreadoverstoneandhillocklikespilledcream.Thecoldmadetheworldfeelcleanandnew,adayforbeginnings.

MiriwalkedstraightpastthegroupofoldergirlsandgreetedBritta.“Hello.”Brittahadbeenstandingaloneandseemedstartledtobeaddressed.“Wanttogoforawalk?”saidMiri,hopingtogetBrittaalone.“Allright.”

Astheywalkedaway,MirireachedtotakeBritta’shand.Brittaflinchedasifsurprisedatthetouch.

“It’s normal to hold handswhilewalking, you know,” saidMiri, guessingfromBritta’sreactionthatcommonhand-holdingwasamountaincustom.

“Oh, sorry,” said Britta. “So everyone holds hands? Boys and girls andeveryone?”

Mirilaughed.“Girlsandboysholdhandswhenthey’relittle.”ShecouldnotrememberwhensheandPederhadlastheldhands.Astheygrewup,thecasualtouchofwrestlingandplayinghad just stopped.“Ifagirl andboyholdhandswhenthey’reolder,itmeanssomething.”

“Isee.”BrittatookMiri’shand.They trudged throughuntouchedsnowaround thesideof thebuilding,and

Miriglancedbacktoseeifanyoneelsewasnear.Justalittlefarther.“Iwantedtotellyou,I’msorryOlanaputyouinthecloset,”saidBritta.Mirinodded,hereyeswide.“SoamI.Therewasaratinthere,andIdon’t

meanOlana.An actual rat tried to nest inmy hair.” She shivered. “I found awhiskerinmybraidthenextmorning,andIthinkImighthavesquealedaloud.”

Brittasmiled.“Youdid.”“Well,I’mgladmyhorrorwasamusingtosomeone,”saidMiri,makingsure

toaddagood-naturedgrinsoBrittawouldknowthatshewasteasing.“Olanashouldn’tputpeople inclosetsorstrikeus,”saidBritta,negotiating

thedeeperswellsofsnow.“Ithinkshe’stooquicktopunish.”Miri pressed her lips together in a surprised frown. If Britta disapproved,

thenperhapsOlana’s attitudewasnot typical of lowlanders.OrperhapsBrittawasnotatypicallowlanderherself.

“Ididn’tthinkthey’dbesomean,”saidBritta.“Sinceoneofuswillbetheprincess.”

“Doyouthinkoneofusreallywillbe?”“Idon’tthinktheywouldlie.”Brittapuffedavisiblebreath.“ButlatelyIfeel

asstupidasatreestump,soIdon’tdarebelievemyownthoughts.”Theysatonthelinderstepsthatledtotheacademy’sbackentrance,andMiri

thoughtshecouldchanceitnow.Shetappedarhythm,thoughtofaquarrysong,

evenhummedaloud.Shewastryingtoquarry-speaktheTakecarewarningshehad often heard echoing out of the quarry. For just a moment, everythingappearedtoquakeandshefeltthatresonance,butBrittadidnotflinch.

Mirinearlygroanedaloud.Shehadbeencertainthosesensationswereasignofquarry-speech,butifithadworked,Brittawouldhavereactedinsomewaytothewarning.

Unless...ShelookedBrittaover.Unlesslowlandersaredeaftoit.Themoresheletthisideasoakin,thelikelieritseemed.Quarry-speechwas

just forquarriers, just for themountain.ThatmadeMirismile toherselfwhileshe sang. Something mountain folk could do that lowlanders could not.SomethingevenMiricoulddo.Atalent.Asecret.

“ShouldI...Doyouwantmetosingwithyou?”askedBritta.Miristopped.“Ohno.Iwas,youknow,hummingforfun.”“Youdon’t have to stop,” saidBritta. “It sounded nice. I just didn’t know

whatyouexpected,becauseIseemtobealwaysdoingthewrongthing.Lately.Sorrytointerrupt.Keepgoing.”

“Weshouldbeheadingbackanyway.”“Allright.”Thegirlsturnedtoretracetheirsteps.Miriteeteredwhenherfoothitadeep

patchof snowand she let goofBritta’shand,butBrittagrabbedher armandhelpedsteadyher.

“Thanks,”saidMiri.“Thankyou.Imean...”Brittalookedup,strugglingforwords.“Thanksfor

talkingtome.”Shepressedherlipstogetherasthoughshewereafraidtosayanymore.

“Sure,” Miri said casually, though inside she was reeling. The girl hadthankedherjustfortalking.

As they came back around to the front of the building, Liana whisperedsomethingtoBena,andBenasmirked.MirihungontoBritta’sarmeventighter,determinednottobecowedbytheirlooks.

When Olana called them back in, Knut was standing at the head of theclassroomcradlingarectangularpackagewrappedinacoarsebrowncloth.

“Your progress has been sluggish of late,” said Olana. She smoothed herchisel-sharp hair behind her shoulder. “Perhaps it’s due to thewinter and theseparationfromyourfamilies,orperhapsyou’resimplynottakingthisendeavorseriously.Ithoughtitwastimeforareminderofwhyyou’rehere.”

Olanaremovedtheclothandheldupacolorfulpaintingmuchmoredetailedthan thechapel’scarveddoors. It illustratedahousewithacarvedwooddoor,six glasswindows facing front, and a garden of tall trees and bushes burstingwithredandyellowflowers.

“Thishousestands inAsland, thecapital,nota longcarriage ride fromthepalace.”Olanapausedasifanticipatingadramaticreaction.“Itwillbegiventothefamilyofthegirlchosenasprincess.”

Several voicesgasped, andMiri couldnotbe certain if hershadbeenone.Perhapsallofthiswasrealafterall.Therewasproof.PaandMardacouldliveinthatbeautifulhouseandneverdressinclothtoothreadbaretokeepoffthesunorhalf starve in thewinter. She longed to give them something so precious andperfect.Whatwouldherpathinkofherthen?

Buttogetthathouseforherfamily,Miriwouldhavetobetheprincess.Sheclosedhereyes.Theideaofmarryingalowlanderstillconfusedandfrightenedher.AndwhatofPeder?No.Shecrushedthatthought,notdaringtohopethathecouldeverseeherasanythingbutlittleMiri,hischildhoodfriend.

She looked again at the painting. Before the academy, her only wish hadbeen to work in the quarry alongside her pa. Now other possibilities werebeginningtonudgeandprodher.

Whatofthelowlands?Whatofbeingaprincess?That night, Miri was still awake hours into the dark when she heard the

distantcrashofrockfalls.Thequarryworkerssaidarockfallwasthemountainstrengtheningitselfagainst theattacksof thepreviousday.Herpasaidhermahadthoughtitwasthemountainitselfshoutingamidnighthello.

Allherlife,Mirihadbeenawakenedbysuchanoise.Italmostalwayscameat night, as though themountain knew the quarrywas empty and the shiftingrockswouldnotcrushanyone in their fall. ItcomfortedMiri tohear thecrash

andmoanandrememberthatshewasstillonhermountain.Shewasnotreadytogiveuponthemountaincompletely,notreadytogiveuponherpa.

Seeingthepaintinghadletherbelievethatshecouldleavethemountain,thatshemightevendesireto.Thethreatofdeparturemadehomefeelverydear.Shewantedtospeakbacktothemountain,sendsomegreetinginachildishhopethatitwouldhearherandacceptherasoneofitsown.

She splayed her hand on a floorstone and tapped a rhythm with herfingertips. Shewished she could shout it out; shewished themountain reallycouldunderstand.“She’saslovelyasagirlwithflowersinherhair,”Mirisanginawhisper.“She’sasbrightasaspringsundryingrainfromtheair.”

It was an ode toMount Eskel sung at spring holiday, and singing it nowwrapped her in memories of the good moments on her mountain. She sanginside,inventingherownsongaboutthetenderwarmthofaspringbreeze,nightbonfires,miri chains dangling from her neck, brushing Peder’s fingers as sheturnedinthedance,theheatfromthefiresthatmadeherfeelsnuggledagainstthemountain’schest.

The gray-and-black shadows in the bedchamber shivered, and a sensationentered her as if she had hummed deep in her throat. Quarry-speech. Mirigroaned to herself.Why doesn’t it work all the time? she thought. Anotherrockfallresoundedinthedistance,andMiriimaginedthemountainwaslaughingather.Shesmiledandnestleddeeperintoherpallet.

“I’llfigureyouout,”shewhispered.“You’llsee.”

n

ChapterEight

MytoesarecolderthanmyfeetMyfeetarecolderthanmyribsMyribsarecolderthanmybreathMybreathiscolderthanmylips

Andmylipsarepurpleandblue,purpleandblue

nMiri woke shivering, and she hopped around as she did her chores, trying towarmhertoes.Inamountainwinter,theicinessofteneasedaftersnowfell,butforthepastweektheskieshadbeenclear.Andaglanceoutthewindowtoldthegirlsnorelieffromthecoldwouldcometoday—cloudsheavywithunshedsnowslumpedontothemountain,buryingeverythinginwetfog.

Everyonegroanedandcomplained,andMiriknewsheshouldbemiserable,too, but instead she feltwrappedup andhidden, a bright secret in amagpie’snest. She stared at thewhite nothingness outside the classroomwindow, cozywith her discovery of quarry-speech and anxious to understand it more. ShepulledherthoughtsbacktohearOlanaannouncethattheirstudieswereabouttochange.

For nearly three months the focus had been on reading, but now Olanaintroducedothersubjects:DanlanderHistory,Commerce,Geography,andKingsand Queens, as well as princess-forming subjects such as Diplomacy,Conversation,andtheonethatmadeMiriwanttorollhereyes—Poise.Well,shewoulddoitifitmeantshecouldstopOlana’sinsultsandprovethatamountaingirlhadasmanybrainsasanylowlander.

Hereyesflickedtothepainting,andherdesiresplungedandstumbledinsideher.Shewantedtogiveherfamilythathouse,yetshedidnotwant tomarryalowlander.She longed to see someof theworld theywere learning about andfind in it a place of her own, yet shewas afraid to give up hermountain.Nosolutionshecouldimaginewouldmakeeverythingjustright.

During their lessons on Poise, the girls took off their boots and balanced

themontheirheads.Theywalkedincircles.Theylearnedhowtowalkquickly(on toes, toes kept behind the hem of the skirt, fluid, arms slightly bent) andslowly (toe to heel, toe to heel, hands resting on skirt). They learned a deepcurtsy for a prince, and as Miri bent her leg and bowed her head, she firstbelievedthatshewouldactuallymeetaprince.Theypracticedashallowcurtsyforapeerandunderstoodthattheywerenevertocurtsytoaservant.

“Though in truth,” saidOlana, “as you are not fromone of the kingdom’sprovinces,youwouldbeconsideredlessthanaservantinanyDanlandercity.”

ToMiri,studyingConversationwasasridiculousaslearningPoise.Theyhadallbeenabletotalksincetheyweretoddlers;whatmorewastheretolearn?Butat least when studying Conversation, the girls were allowed to speak to oneanother,followingthecorrectprinciples,ofcourse.

Olana paired the girls and designated their rank. Miri was pleased to bematchedupwithBritta,eventhoughOlanaassignedMiritobeherlesser.

“Youmustknowyourrankand thatofyour interlocutor,”saidOlana.Mirifrowned and looked around. No one dared to interrupt and ask what“interlocutor”meant.“Thepersonoflowerrankalwaysdeferstotheother.Thisis just for practice, of course, as there are few in the kingdomwhowould beconsideredoflowerrankthananyofyou.”

Olana’sinsultswerelikebitingfliesstinginghernose,andMirifeltreadytoswat her. Britta bumped her with her elbow and smiled, as if guessing herthoughts.

“However, oneof youwill be elevated in ranknext year,” saidOlana, “soyou all must practice against the possibility. Lessers should be certain of thenameandrankof theirbetters.Incorrectconversation,youwillusethisoften.Youmaybegin.”

“Allright,LadyBritta,”saidMiriunderthewhirofconversationthatfilledtheclassroom.

Brittafrowned.“Youdon’tneedtocallmethat.”“You’remybetter,”saidMiri,“solet’smakeyoualady,myladyBritta.”“Allright,then,MissMiri.”“Oh,LadyBritta?”saidMiriwithanasaltonesheimaginedrichpeoplemust

use.“Yes,MissMiri?”Brittamimickedthesameaffect.“Idohopeallyourlordsandladiesarefatandhappy,LadyBritta.”“Allfat,nonehappy,MissMiri.”“Indeed,myladyBritta?Howlovelyforyoutogotocourtwithapalacefull

ofplump,bawlinglordsandladiesrollingdownthecorridors.”“Itislovely,”saidBrittawithalaugh.“You’reveryprettywhenyousmile,LadyBritta.Youshoulddoitmore.”Brittasmiledsofterandduckedherhead.Olana interrupted the practice to croon on about Conversation, the

importance of repeating the name and title, asking questions, and alwaysbringingtheconversationaroundtotheotherperson.

“Never offer any information about yourself,” said Olana. “Not only forcourtesy,butalso toprotectyoursecrets, shouldyouhaveany,whichIdoubt.For example, suppose you are at a ball and you’re feeling very warm. Cananyonetellmehowtomakethisobservationtotheprincewithouttalkingaboutyourself?”

Katar’shandshotup.Olanacalledonher.“Itseemstobequitestuffyinhere.Areyoufeelingwarm,YourHighness?”“Nicelydone,”saidOlana.MirifrownedatKatarandhersmuglittlegrin.Olanaaskedwhatonecould

sayiftheprinceaskedyouhowyouwerefeeling.Miriraisedherhandasfastasshecould.

“Um,I’vebeeneagertomeetyou,YourHighness.Howwasyourjourney?”Olanaraisedonebrow.“Thatmightbeallright,ifwithoutthe‘um.’”KatarsmirkedatMiri.“StupidConversation,”Miri said toBrittawhen theyreturned to individual

conversations. “Learning to readwasgood,but this stuff is silly. I’d ratherbecleaningpots.”

Brittashrugged.“Iguessit’simportant,butIdon’treallyliketalkingaboutbettersandlessersandall.Thisisjustgoodmanners.Itseemstomethatifyouwant to make a good impression, you should treat people as your betters,

whetherOlanathinkstheyareornot.”“You’re not dull in the head after all,” saidMiri. “Whydoyoupretend to

be?”Britta gaped, looking both affronted and embarrassed. “I don’t pretend

anything,andIam...Imean,I’mjust...”“Youcouldreadallalong,couldn’tyou?”Miriwhispered.Brittaseemedtoconsiderdenyingit,thenshrugged.“Ididn’twanttobethe

only one who could read and let Olana put me up as an example againsteveryoneelse.Iwashavingahardenoughtime...withpeopleuphere.”

“Britta,I’msorry,Ididn’t...”Britta nodded. “I know. I’ve heard how the traders talk. I see howOlana

treatsyou.Ofcourseyouwould thinkall lowlandersare thesame.ButMiri, Idon’tthinklikethem.Idon’t.”

The next morning, Olana introduced the rules for diplomatic negotiations,startingwithStatetheproblemandendingwithInvitemutualacceptance, thenrushedthroughthelonglistofgeneralprinciplesofDiplomacy.

“Tell thetruthasplainlyaspossible,”Olanareadfromabook.Herusuallyloosevoicewasforced,asifshewereembarrassedtobeteachingprinciplessheherselfdidnotfollow.“Listencarefullytoyouralliesandenemiestoknowtheirminds.Thebest solutionsdon’t come through force.Acknowledgeyour faultsanddeclareyourplantoamendthem.”

MirididherbestimitationofOlana’stwitchinglips.Brittasmiledbehindherhand.

“Nowthen,let’slookbrieflyatCommerce,”saidOlana,“justenoughtokeepyoufromembarrassingyourselvestoohorriblyinfrontoftheprince.”

Oncethelessonbegan,Mirihadtoconsiderifmountainfolkmightactuallybedullerthanlowlanders.ShethoughtCommercewasjustafancywordforhowthey traded linder for other goods, but Olana blathered about supply anddemand,markets,merchants,andcommodities.Itwasasifshemadeitallsoundmore complicated than itwas just tomake the girls feel stupid.At least,Mirihopedthatwasthecase.

At thenextbreak,Miri opened thebookonCommerce to see if she could

puzzle it out.After fiveminutes and the beginnings of a frustrationheadache,sheslammedthebookclosed.Perhapsherheadwaswornfromconstantlytryingto reason out how quarry-speech worked, or perhaps she just was not smartenough.

ThroughthewindowshecouldseeFridthrowingsnowballsfordistanceandEsa laughing at something sixteen-year-old Tonna had said. Even Katar wasoutsidetoday,sittingonthestepsandsunningherface.ThesnowmeasureduptoMiri’swaistintheswells.Highwinter.

Therabbitcoatswouldbethickestnow,andthatmeantslaughtertime.Itwasasmallcelebrationtohavefreshmeatforthestewandfurforanewhatormitts.Mirihatedthechore,butshediditeveryyeartospareMarda,whowepttoseeanycreaturedie.Miriwondered ifMardawould steelherself todo thekillingthisyearorifPawouldthinktotakecareofitsomeevening.

Miri’seyeswenttothepaintingofthehouse.Wishingtoleavehermountainfelt like givinguponher pa, and she couldnot bear to do that.Butwith thathouse,shecouldkeepher familycloseandstill travel tonewplacesand learnnewthings.Andifshewon,Mardawouldneverhavetokillarabbitandwashoffthebloodinasnowdrift.Pawouldneverhavetoaddmorewatertothegruelto get them through a late-winter dinner. They could sit in the shade of theirlargehouseandsipsweetdrinks,learntoplaylowlanderinstruments,andstareattheflowers.

Mount Eskel’s scattered trees and dull grasses could not stand up to thelowland’sgardens.ItmadeMiriwonderifrumorsweretruethatthelowlandershadagiftformakingthingsgrow.

KnutenteredtheclassroomandstoppedshortwhenhesawMiri.“Ithoughtyouwerealloutside.Ijustcametoclean.”

“Hello,Knut,”shesaid.Hedidnotrespondorevennod,andthatmadeherlaugh.“Areyouforbiddentotalkoutofturn,justlikeus?”

Knut smiled then, andhis short beard stuckout evenmore. “Moreor less.ButIdon’tthinkshe’llputmeintheclosetforsayinghello.”

“Ipromisenottotell.Knut,haveyoueverseenthehouseinthispainting?”“What,theprincesshouse?No,Idon’tbelieveso,thoughthere’replentyof

thelikedowninAslandandtheotherbigcities.Prettygardenthatonehas.Myfatherwasagardenerforsuchaplacemostofhislife.”

“Youmeanallhedidalldaywasworkinagarden?”“Yes. Leastways that was his profession. He also liked to play a fluty

instrumentcalledajopintheeveningsandtakemeandmysisterfishingonrestdays.”

“Hmm.”Miri tried to imagine thekindof lifewhere fishingwasaholidaygameinsteadofawaytogetfood.“Notmanygardenshere.”

Knutrubbedthegrayinhisbeard.“Notmany?I’dsaynotaone.”Mirifeltherfacegohot,andshewastryingtothinkofsomethingtosayin

defense of hermountainwhenKnut turned his smile to thewindow and said,“Notthatyouneedthemforscenerywiththesemountaintopstakingyourbreathaway.”

And immediatelyMiri decided that Knutwas the best sort of person. Sheaskedhimaboutgardensandthelowlands,heardaboutfarmsthatstretchedsofaryouhadtorideafastponytogetfromoneendtotheotherbeforenoon,andthefancygardenstherichhad,fullofplantsjusttolookatinsteadoftoeat.Hetaughtherthenamesofseveralflowersandtreesinthepainting.

“Myname isMiri, like the pink flower that grows around linder beds.Doyouhavemiriflowersinthelowlands?”

“No,Ithinkmirimustbeamountainflower.”Hestartledata sound fromoutside.“I shouldgo.”He lookedout thedoor

andaround,asifcheckingtoseeifOlanawerenearby,thenleanedtowardMiriand whispered, “I don’t like the way she treats you. It should change.” Hegesturedtothebookinherhands.“Keepreadingthatone,Miri,andyouwon’tbesorry.”

SoMirisighed,satdown,andreopenedDanlanderCommerce.EvenOlana’sobscure lecture had been easier to understand.Olana had said thatCommercewasthetradingofonethingofvalueforanotherthingofvalue.Theonlythingof value on the mountain was linder, so Miri thumbed through the book,scanning for any mention of it. She found a passage in a chapter titled“DanlanderCommodities.”

nOf all the building stones, linder ismost favored. It is hard enough to hold upgreat palaces andnevercrack,yetlightenoughtohaullongdistances.Itishighlypolishable,andlinderonethousandyearslaidstillgleamslikenewsilver.Chapelsmustbemadeofwood,butapalacerequireslinder.InDanland,theonlyknownbedsoflinderarefoundonMountEskel.

nMiribrushedherfingertipsoverthepassage.Shehadnotknownthatlinder

wassorare.“ThatmakesMountEskelimportant,eventolowlanders.”Shehadalwayswisheditso,andherewasproof.

Olanahadtalkedofsupplyanddemand—iftherewasnotmuchofaproductavailable and demandwas high, then that productwould increase in value. Itseemed toMiri that if linder was found only onMount Eskel and yet prizedenoughtobeusedforpalaces,thenitsvaluemustbequitehigh.Buthowhigh?Nearthebackofthebookshefoundalist.

nMarketPrices,SetbyKing’sTreasurer

Bushelofwheat—onesilvercoinFull-grownpig—threesilvercoinsCarriagehorse—fivesilvercoinsoronegoldcoin

nThelistwenton,givingthenumberofsilverorgoldcoinsforacow,aload

of timber, a plowhorse, a goodwagon.The last itemon the listmadeMiri’sheartpound.“Squaredblockoflinder,”itread.“Onegoldcoin.”

Justthentheothergirlsenteredtheclassroom.“LookatMiri,stillreading,”saidKatar.“Huh?Oh,yes,”Mirimumbled.Inthelowlands,oneblockoflinderwasworthfivebushelsofwheat.Five!“Readingeverybooktentimeswon’tbeenoughtomaketheprincechoose

you,”saidKatar.“Maybe,”saidMiri,slidingthebookontotheshelf.One block of linder would be worth a fine horse, finer than anything the

tradershookedtotheirwagons.“Youdon’tneedtoactasifyou’vealreadywon,Miri,”saidBena.

“Indoorbehavior,”saidOlana,entering,“oryou’lltaketurnsintheclosetallnight.”

Miritookherseat,dizzywithherdiscovery.Shestaredatherfeet,restingsocasually on a floorstone of linder. She tried to estimate howmany blocks oflinderhadbeenusedtobuildthefoundationofthatbuilding,howmanybushelsofgrainitwouldbuy,howmuchwoodtobuildachapelbigenoughtoholdthewholevillage,enoughfoodsonoone’sbellyfeltpinchedonawinter’snight,alibrary of books, spun cloth like the lowlanders wore, new shoes, musicalinstruments,sweetsforthelittleones,acomfortablechairforeverygrandparent,andahundredothernecessitiesandfancythings.If thetradersdealtfairly,hervillagecouldbenefitfromtheheapsofwonderstherestofthekingdomseemedtoenjoy.

Shecouldnotwait to tellherpaand theothervillagers.Soonnow.Springholidaywasintwomonths,andbythenthesnowwouldbreakenoughtomakewalkingtothevillagepossible.SurelyOlanawouldallowthemtoreturnhomeforthatcelebration.

“Miri!”Miri jumped at her name and realized belatedly that Olana had spoken it

severaltimes.“Yes,TutorOlana?”shesaid,attemptingtodisplaymeekness.“Itseemsyouhaven’thadtimetocontemplatethevalueofpayingattention.

You just lost your outdoor privileges for the rest of the week, and since thatdoesn’tseempunishmentenough,youareforbiddentotouchthebooksforthatperiod.”

“Yes,TutorOlana.”Intruth,Mirididnotmind.Betweenquarry-speechandCommerce,shehadplentytothinkabout.

n

ChapterNine

Breathe,buzz,hint,spellSigh,speak,say,tell

nEachday,eachsnowfall,eachlessonuntilspringholidayfeltendless,andMiriwassoreandrestlesswithwaiting.Eachnightasshelayonherpallet,sheheldontothethoughtthatshewasonenightclosertotellingherpaandthevillagersabout Commerce. All seemed to feel the anticipation of spring. Even Katarstaredout thewindowas thoughmeasuring the snowdepthwithher eyes andcountingthedaysuntiltheycouldgohome.

WhenMiri’spunishmentlapsed,shewalkedoutdoorswithBritta,explainingwhattheyhadtolookforwardto.

“Food,” she said. “The best.Doter shares her honeyed nuts, and Frid’s pamakessaltedrabbitsothinitmeltsonyourtongue.Andhotteawithhoney,thelast of the apples salted and roasted, bread on a stick baked over a fire andseasoned with rabbit fat. Games and contests, and when the night comes webuildbonfiresfromwoodgatheredallyearandholdstoryshouts.”

“Soundslovely.”Britta’sfarawaylooksaidshewasalreadyimaginingit.“Anditwillbeevenbetterthisyear,”saidMiri.“Ihavesomesecrets.”Just by admitting she had them, the secrets pushed inside her, a snowmelt

stream against a fallen branch, and the desire to share swept over her. Shehesitated. Would Britta believe her? Or would she laugh? Miri thought ofDoter’s saying,Neverhesitate if youknow it’s right.Aftermonthsof ignoringBrittajustforbeingalowlander,atleastshedeservedMiri’strust.

SoMiri tookBrittaona frantic stroll around theacademy, tellingherwithhuffsoffrostybreathaboutCommerceandgoldcoinsandquarry-speechoutsidethe quarry. Telling someone felt good, like drinkingwarmed goat’smilk, andsherushedouteverydetailbeforeOlanacouldcallthemback.

“That’s themostamazingstory Ieverheard.”Brittasmiled, lookingwhere

thesunpickedoutstarsontheicyhuskofthesnow.“Whatthetradersaredoing,thatsoundsdirtytome.Wehavetochangethat.”

“So,youreallyneverheardanyoneusingquarry-speech?Notevenwhenyouwereworkinginthequarry?”

Brittashookherhead.“Beforecominguphere,Ineverimaginedsuchthingscould exist. It makes sense to me that mountain folk have that talent. Iremember, the noise in the quarrywas deafening, evenwith clay plugs inmyears.”

“Uphere,quarry-speechisasnormalasbugbites.Idon’tsupposeanyone’sthoughtmuchaboutit.”

Brittascratchedhernose.“MaybethatwaswhyIhadahardtimeatfirst,thatandeveryoneissingingallthetime.IcouldneverjoininbecauseIdon’tknowthewords.”

“Youdon’thavetoknowthewords,youjustmakeupyourown.”“ButIdon’tknowthetunes.”“You don’t need to know the tunes, just find the rhythm and the song

comes.”“Ican’tdothat.Ineverlearnedhow.”Mirihadneverrealizedthatsingingwassomethingthatneededtobelearned.

“Is it truewhat theysayabout lowlanders, that theyhaveawaywithgrowingthings?”

“I’veneverheardthat,butitisalotgreenerdownthere.”Brittalookedwest.“Lesssnow,morerain,greenallalongtheseashore,andforestsandfarmlandsformiles.Everyhousehasitsowngarden.”

“I’dliketoseeitsometime.”ItwasawkwardforMiritoadmit,butshedidwanttoseethelowlands,theplacesshehadimaginedsinceshewasachildandthethingsshehadreadaboutattheacademy.Theocean,cities,palacesbuiltoflinder, musicians and artists, people from countries across the ocean, sailingshipsfullofwonderstosellandtrade,akingandaqueen.Andaprince.Perhapshewouldnotbesohorrible;perhapshewouldbeBritta’skindoflowlander.

“I’d like to see it with you,” said Britta. “Someday. When you’re theprincess.”

Miri laughedandpushedBritta’sshoulder.“Maybehe’llchooseyou,LadyBritta.Imean,PrincessBritta.”

“No,notme.Inaroomfullofgirls,youandLianaandeverybody,hewon’tevenlookatme.”

“Hewillso—”“It’sallright,Miri,”saidBritta.“Idon’tcare.Itshouldbeyouorsomeone

else really fromMountEskel. I’m glad I got to attend the academy andmeetyou.That’sthegoodpart.Whocaresaboutaprince,anyway?”

“I’dwager theprincehimself cares a great deal,” saidMiri as they rushedbacktotheacademyatOlana’scall.“Andhemighthaveapuppywhoisquitefondofhim.”

“TheonlythingIwishisthatwhoeverdoesbecometheprincessishappy,Imeanreally,reallyhappy.Otherwise,whatwoulditmatter,right?”

BackintheclassroomasOlanaspoutedtheprinciplesofConversationMirihad alreadymemorized, she let hermindwander, imaginedmarrying a princewholookedlikePederandlivedinapalaceoflinder,andwonderedifshewouldbe,asBrittahadsaid, really, reallyhappy.Mirishookherheadat the thought.Suchathingfelt impossible,likeheroutlandishmiriflowerwishes,liketryingtoenvisiontheocean.

Ontheotherhand,academyprincess,withitsimmediatepromiseandsilvergown,feltreal,somethingshecoulddaydreamabout.

InordertobeatKatarasfirstintheacademy,Miriknewshewouldhavetobe an expert on everythingOlana taught. The lesson onDiplomacy had beenvagueandrushed,sothenextrestdayduringpersonalstudy,MirireadachapteronDiplomacy inDanlanderCommerce, puzzling over the rules and how onemightactuallyusethem.

Esasatinfrontofher,twirlingalockofhairthesameshadeasPeder’s.Miriremembered the dayEsa had gestured to her to come outsidewith the others.She had never explained about Olana and the closet and why she had notfollowed.

“Esa,whatdoyouthinkthismeans?”Miriwhispered,pointingtooneofthegeneralrulesofDiplomacy—Buildoncommonground.

“I’m not sure.” Esa took the book and read for a few minutes, flippingthrough severalpages. “Thebookgives anexamplehere, talkingabout a timewhenDanlanders firststarted to tradewitheastern tribeswhodidn’tspeakourlanguage. Before they could begin trading, they had to create relationships oftrust, so they looked for things both peoples had in common.” She paused tokeepreading.“Listentothis—apparentlyafriendshipbetweenaDanlanderandachiefofa tribebeganwhen theydiscovered thatbothenjoyedeatingroastedfisheyeballs.Ick.Funnywaytostartafriendship.”

Mirismiled.“Didn’toursstartwhenweweretwoyearsoldandatehalfofyourma’spotofbutterunderthetable?”

EsalaughedandKatarshushedthem.MirifrownedatKatarforspoilingthemoment. She had always longed to be good friends with Esa, but Peder hadneverwantedhisbabysistertotagalongwiththem,andthenastheygrewup... Miri looked at the nineteen girls around her, bent over books and tablets,moving their lips as they read. It had been difficult to keep childhood friendswhiletheothersworkedinthequarryandshewasalonewiththegoats.Buttheywerealltogetherattheacademy.Ifshewantedit,nowwasherchance.

“Thankyou,Esa,”Miriwhispered.Build on common ground. The question of quarry-speech was constantly

murmuring in thebackofMiri’smind, and the truth in this ideaheldher andpushedherthoughtsdeeper.Herquestionshadtowaituntilshecouldrelaxintoher thinking time, in thebedchamberafter thehushedwhispers andgigglesofnighttimewerereplacedbysnoresandshefeltsafe,awake,andalone.

Theydidn’t speak thesame language, she thought,pondering thestoryEsahadread,sotheyfoundotherwaystocommunicatebysharingwhattheyhadincommon.

WhenGerti had heardMiri’s quarry-speech, she had remembered her owntime in thecloset.The thing theyhad incommon—theyhadbothexperiencedtheclosetandthescuttlingnoisesoftherat.

Miri’s thoughts began to buzz like flies over ameal. That last day beforecoming to the academy, Miri had heard Doter tell another quarry worker tolighten theblow.HowhadsheknownwhatDoter said?Thinkingback to that

moment, she realizedshehad imagined the timeMardahad taughtherhow topoundawheelofcheeseandcorrectedherwhenshehitittoohard.Thequarry-speechhadprompteda realmemory inherownmind,andshehad interpretedthememoryintowhatitmightmeaninthatmoment—Lightentheblow.

Quarry-speechusedmemoriestocarrymessages.Pederandherpatalkedaboutquarry-speechasthoughitweresecondnature,

andMiriguessedtheydidnotrealizehowitworkedanddidnotreallycare.ButMiri did.Thedoingsof thequarryhad always seemed somebright, forbiddensecret.Nowitwashersecret,andholdingittoherselffeltwarmanddelicious,likedrinkingthelastcupofhoneyedtea.Shewantedtokeepthatfeeling.

n

ChapterTen

NowolffaltersbeforethebiteSostrike

NohawkwaversbeforethediveJuststrike

nOnemoresnowfall,thenthecloudsretreatedhigherthananymountain.Winter’sgripeased,andthesunseemedtoleaninclosertoMountEskel.Itwaspainfullybright,theskyahotblue.Thehardcrustofsnowsoftenedandpatchesofearthemerged, showinggreen things risingoutof themudandpushinguponto thehills.Thesmellofthewindchanged—itfeltthicker,richer,liketheairaroundacookpot.Springwasstretchingonthemountain.

More andmoreoften, thegirls lookedup from theirbooks and toward theheartening sight ofMount Eskel’s peak, sheddingwhite for brown and green.Miri couldnot thinkof returninghomewithoutaplummeting sensation inherbelly.ShehopedsopowerfullytobeabletosharethesecretsofCommerceandchange trading for her village that she nearly trembledwith it. Then, the daybefore theyplannedonmaking the trekforspringholiday,Olanaannouncedatest.

“Iknowyouthinktoreturntomorrow,”saidOlana.“YourspringholidayisnotaDanlander tradition,and thisacademy isundernoobligation tohonor it.Let the examdetermine if you’ve earned the right to returnhome.Thosewhodon’tpasswillremainattheacademy,engagedinpersonalstudy.”

Thetestingbeganwithreadingaloud,andMiriwincedwhenFridstruggledwith the big words and Gerti had no comprehension of the text on the page.OlanaaskedquestionsonHistory,Geography,andKingsandQueens,and thegirlswrote out their answers on clay tablets. Theywalked across the room toexhibitPoiseandconversedinpairs.Olanakepttrackofeachgirl’sprogressonapieceofparchment.

Aspainfulas the testingwas,Olanamade itworsebydeclaringshewould

notgivethescoresuntilthenextday.“It will be good for you to ponder your performance until morning,” said

Olana.Intheirbedchamber,Miriheardpanickedwhisperinglateintothenight.“Ihavetogohome.”“Metoo.Nomatterwhat.”“IknowIfailed.I’msureIdid.Allthequestionsweresohard.”“Shehatesus.She’llfailusalljusttobemean.”“Shush,orshe’llfailusfortalking.”Thenextmorning,thegirlssatsostraightthattheydidnottouchthebacksof

theirchairs.TheweightofMiri’sdesiretoreturnhomemadeherfeellopsidedandgiddy.IfOlanawon’tletmego,shethought,Imayhavetorun.Butshewasnotreadytogiveupontheacademyeither,onallshewaslearning,onthehopesofbecomingacademyprincessandbeingthatspecialone,evenontheroughandfurtive yearning that shewould not let herself think on too long—leaving themountain,givingherpathehouseinthepainting,becomingaprincess.

“Well,” said Olana, facing the class with hands clasped behind her back.“Anyguesses?”

Nooneanswered.“Noneedtodragitout,”saidOlana,andsomeonesnortedatthecomment.

“Youallfailed.”Acollectivegaspwentup.“ExceptMiriandKatar.”MiriexchangedlookswithKatarandsawthattheothergirlwaspleased.“Youbothmaygo.”Olanawavedthemoff.Katarwalkedtothedoorandturned,waiting.Mirihadnotmoved.“TutorOlana.”Miriswallowedandspokealittlelouder.“TutorOlana,that

doesn’tseemfair.”“Passing the testdoesn’tgiveyoufreedomtospeakout,Miri,”saidOlana.

“Gothismomentorforfeityourrighttogoatall.Now,therestofyouaremilesbehindwhereyoushouldbe,andIwillnothaveyoumortifymeinfrontofthechiefdelegateandtheprince.Iwillbusymyselfelsewhereinthebuildingforthe

nextcoupleofdays.I’drathernotseemuchofyou,whichmeansIhadbetternothearmuchfromyou.”

Mirihadnotleftherseat.IfshewentwithKatar,theothersgirlsmightneverforgive her, but if she stayed, she could not deliver her news before the firsttrading of the season. She pressed her hands on her chair, wanting to stand,afraidtodoso.Katarmadeexaggeratedexpressionsofimpatiencebywideninghereyesandtappingherfoot.

BeforeMiricouldmakeuphermind,Esastood,herfaceaburningred.Sheclenchedherleftarmwithherrighthand.

“No,”saidEsa.OlanaturnedhericyglaretoEsa.“Whatwasthat?”“Isaid...Isaid,”Esastuttered.Sheblinkedmanytimes,andtearsbeganto

leakfromhereyes.“Isaid,no.Isaid,I’mgoingtospringholiday,andIdon’tcarewhathappens.”

MiristaredatEsaandfeltasbreathlessasifshehadfallenonherback.Esawastheonegirlwhohadnevermissedamealorreceivedapalmlashing,alwaysholdinghertongue,alwaysobedient.

MiricouldseenohopeinEsa’sface.Sheseemedtocringe,waitingfortheinevitablepunishment,knowingshewouldneverbeallowedtoleavebutunabletostopherprotest.

Neverhesitate ifyouknowit’sright.Miriwasgoingtospringholiday,andshewantedeveryonetogowithher.Iftheyranallatonce,shebelievedOlanaandthesoldierscouldnotstopthem.

“Afewhoursintheclosetmightchilltheimpudenceoutofyou,”Olanawassaying.

MiriknewshehadtoactbeforeOlanacalledthesoldiersorlockedEsaup.Aftermonthsofcoldtension,shewasafraidshecouldnotconvincethegirlstorunhome.Besides, shewouldnotbeable to talk for longbeforeOlanawouldhave the soldiers haul her away. No, her gut told her that the only way tocommunicateherpleatorunwastousequarry-speech.

She did not know if itwas possible to say something so specific; she hadnever tried.But if quarry-speech usedmemories, could she conveymore than

justquarrywarnings?Couldshetelleveryonetorun?Miristompedherfootonthelinderfloorstonesandsangoutloud,hopingto

distractOlanafromtakingEsatothecloset.“Nowolffaltersbeforethebite.Sostrike.Nohawkwavers before the dive. Just strike.” Itwas a song forwedgework,wheneverystrokewascritical.Ifanyquarrierinthelinedelayedastrike,thecrackcouldsplitthewrongwayandruinthelinderblock.Therecouldbenohesitation.

OlanagapedatMiristompingandsinging.ThatmadeMirilaugh.“That’senough,”saidOlana.“Nosunpausesbefore theset,soswing,”Mirisangon,whileher thoughts

dashedaround, trying to findacommonmemory thatwouldencourageall thegirlstorunatonce.“Noraindelaysbeforethefall.Justswing.”Thenshehadit—RabbitandWolf,agameallvillagersknew.Thechildrenwouldsitinacircleandthechildwhowasthe“wolf”chasedthe“rabbit”aroundtheoutsideofthecircle, trying to touchherhair. If thewolf touched therabbitanywhereelse, itwasanunfairtouch.Therabbityelled,“Rabbits,run!”andallthechildrenstoodandran.

Miriseizedthismemoryandsangitwithherthoughts,downintothebeatingofherboot,downintothelinder.

ThesightofOlanashivered,andhermemoryofthegameexpanded,seemingimmediate and clear. Half the girls stood right up, and the rest flinched orjumpedorshook theirheadsas if trying to jigglewateroutof theirears.OnlyBrittaandOlanadidnotreact.

“Whatisgoingon?”Olanalookedaround.Sheseemedtoobewilderedbytheoddbehaviortoknowwhattodo.“Whyareyoustanding?”

AgainMirisangthememoryinquarry-speech,andtherestofthegirlsstood.EvenBenaandKatarhadknowingsmilesontheirfaces.MiritookBritta’sarmandwhispered,“We’regoinghomenow.”

Despitehertears,Esagrinned.“Rabbits,run.”Some of the girls squealedwith delight and fear as they darted out of the

classroomanddasheddownthesteps.Behindthem,Olanabellowed,“Ifyouleavenow,don’tthinkaboutcoming

back!Doyouhearme?”They laughed as they ran. It was stillmorning, and the chilly air of early

springnippedandbuttedMiri’sskin.Shewouldmakeithome.ShewouldhaveachancetotellherpaaboutCommerce.Shewantedtohugthewholeworld.

“Shouldn’twehurry?”askedGerti, lookingoverhershoulder.“Whatifthesoldierscatchus?”

“Oneofus isgoingtobe theprincessoneday,”saidMiri.“Whatcantheydo,runusallthroughwiththeirswords?”

Thirteen-year-old Jetta shrieked, and the others laughed at her fright. Thesoldiersdidnotfollow,andthegirlsslowedtoawalk, talkingovereverythingtheymusthavemissedathometheselastmonthsandallthattheywoulddoforspringholiday.MiritookBritta’shand,andEsaandFridwalkedwiththem.

“I guesswe’ve being playingWolf andRabbitwithOlana all along,” saidMiri,“butwhenshepicksonEsa,that’sanunfairtouch.I’mgladweran.”

“SoamI,”saidEsa.“Iwasintheclosetforsure.”“Andit’stimethatrat’sreignofterrorended.”Miristoleasidewaysglance

atEsa,thenlookedbackattheroad.“Ineverapologizedforgettingeveryoneintrouble, and then I was too embarrassed to speak up. I thought youwouldn’tforgiveme,butIamsorry.”

Frid’seyeswidened.“Oh.Ithoughtallalongyouweremadatus.”“Youdid?”“Youalwaysstayedinsidereadinganddidn’ttalktous.Iguessedyouwere

angrythatwedidn’ttakeyoursideagainstKatar.”Mirilaughed,pleased.“AndIthoughtyouweretooangrytotalktome.”“Miri,I’mdyingtoknow,”saidEsa.“Thatwasyouwhoquarry-spokeback

there,wasn’tit?Itfeltlikeyou.Buthowdidyoudoit?I’veneverheardanyonesay,‘Rabbits,run!’before,andoutsidethequarry!”

They were walking through a quarry some hundred years deserted, butpatchesoflindertoothintominestillgleamedthroughthemudandrockshards.Miri crouched on a lean slab, tapped the rhythm with her fist, and chose amemory. At age three, she and Esa had wriggled out of Doter’s notice andscampereddangerouslyclosetothecliff’sedge.“Takecare!”Doterhadshouted

beforepullingthemtosafety.Takecare,Mirinowquarry-spoke.Frid’smouthhungopen,andEsanoddedandsmiled.“Ididn’tthinkitwaspossibleoutsideourquarry,”saidFrid.“Whatdidyoujustsee?”askedMiri.“See?” asked Esa. “What do you mean? I heard a warning about being

carefulandcomingawayfromanedge.”“Butdoesanythingelseoccurtoyou?Amemoryofanything?”Mirirapped

again,sangaloud,andsanginside.“IguessonetimewhenyouandIalmostfelloffthecliffandmymapulled

usback.”“Metoo!”saidMiri.“Butwhatdoesitremindyouof,Frid?”“WhenOswasonablockhighinthequarry,andIsawhimlosehisbalance

andfall.”Miri clapped her hands together. “It must be true. I’ve been thinking that

quarry-speechworks inmemories. If two people have the samememory, likeEsaandme,thenwemightimaginethesamescene.Butifnot,thenthequarry-speechnudgesthenearestmemory.”

“Maybe that’s why lowlanders can’t hear it,” said Britta. “We don’t haveenoughsharedmemories.”

“I’vebeen trying tofigureoutquarry-speechformonths,”saidMiri,“but Istilldon’tknowwhyitsometimesworksoutsidethequarryandsometimesnot.”

Esashieldedhereyestospottherestofthegirlswalkingontheroadahead.“Let’sthinkaboutitlater.I’mdyingforsomehoneyednuts.”

Thefourgirlsskippedtocatchupwiththeothersandholleredspringsongsallthewayhome.

n

ChapterEleven

I’llraisetheladletoyourlips,Dripwateronyourfingertips,

Andstayalthoughmyheartsaysflee.Willyoulookupandsmileatme?

nThatafternoon, thesoundsofsonggreeted themat theoutskirtsof thevillage.Dozens of voices carried themelody, and slapping drums and clapping handsthrummedthebeat.Thegirlsrecognizedthetuneandrhythmoftheemptybarreldance,thefirstdanceofspringholiday.

“Hurryup,”saidEsa.“They’llneedus,ormostoftheboyswillbedancingalone.”

The girls broke into a run, and the noise of their boots on the roadwaysoundedlikeanightrockfall.

“We’rehere,we’reback!”someshouted,andwhentheycameintoviewofthevillagecenter, acheerwentup.Theclappingbroke from itsdance rhythminto applause for their entrance, and parents and siblings shouted and leapedforwardtoembracethem.MirilookedforMardaandherfatherandwasabouttodespairwhentheyrushedherfrombehind.

Herpaliftedherintheairandspunheraroundasifshewerestillalittlegirl.Mardawasthereaswell,kissinghercheeksandwarminghercoldhands.Miri’seyesfeltwatery,andsheputherfaceagainstherpa’schest.

“Areyouallright?”askedMarda.Shenodded,stillhidingherface.“Ijustmissedyouall.IguessImissedyou

alot.”Theholidaywas thebest inMiri’smemory.Fridbeamedsoproudlywhen

shetookfirstplacethestone-hurlingcontest,sheseemedtoforgetthatshehadwoneveryyearsinceshewastwelve.ThefoodwasbetterthanMiricouldeverhave described to Britta, and the cheering never really died out. Everythingseemedworthyofapplause.

Frid’s pa announced the ribbon dances with a strum of his three-stringedyipper,andDoterhandedoutthetatteredredstripsofcloththatwereolderthananygrandparent.Jans,apale,seriousboy,trailedBrittaaroundlikeathistleweedstucktoherbootlace.Hebeggedherforonemoredance,andthenonemore,sofor an hour she shared her ribbon with Jans, high stepping and twisting andsmilingwiderthanMirihadeverseen.

Miriherselfdancedsohard that shecouldscarcelybreathe.ShesawPederdancingwithBenaand thenLianaandhadgivenuphopingwhenanewsongbeganandshefoundhimontheotherendofherribbon.Shewouldhavetalkedand teased and laughedwith him, but his sudden appearance had startled her,andshedidnotknowifshecouldkeepuphercarefreefaçade.Hergazefellontheground,herheartbeatingfasterthanthedrums.

After a time, she did not see Peder anymore among the dancers, and shenestledclose toherfatherandwatchedthe toddlers twirlandhop.Whennightfellthestoryshoutsbegan.Thegrandfatherstoldthesomberstoryofthecreatorgodfirstspeakingtopeople;thenthemothersrecitedtheonethatbegan,“OnelifetimeagobanditscametoMountEskel.”

Afterthebanditstory,Ossaid,“Let’shearatalefromourgirlscomehome.”Bena,as theoldest,stoodandchoseherstory,asilly rompofa talewhere

eachlinewasinventedasitwastold.“Thegirlwithnohairlefthometowanderhillswhereshewasnotknown,”sheshouted,thenpointedtoLiana,whosatatanotherfire.

“An eagle mistook her for her fallen egg and carried her up to its nest,”shoutedLiana,pointingtoFrid.

“Aquarrierpluckedher fromtheeagle’snest, thinkingheragoodstone tobreak.”FridpointedtoGerti.

Thestorycontinued,eachacademygirlselectinganothertocontinuethetale.Miri inchedup tositonherheels,hoping tobeseen.Noone lookedherway.Benahad three turns,andevenBrittawaschosenonce, inventingaclever lineaboutabearmistakingherforamushroomcap.ThenEsashouted,“Lastline!”andpointedtoMiri.

Miristood,hersmileimpossibletohide.“Withherbaldheadshininglikea

goldcrown,awanderingprincemistookherforanacademyprincessandcarriedherawaytohispalace.”

Thecrowdburstintocheersandlaughter.Thefestivitiesslowedandfamiliesclusteredaroundfires,drinkingtea,with

honeyif theywerelucky,andsingingsleepytunes.Miri’sgazewanderedoverthe faces litby thebonfiresuntil shediscoveredPeder justbeyond the ringoforangelight.

Mirihadnotspokenawordtohimsincereturning,andsherealizednowthatshemight have seemed unfriendlywhile they danced. She should have run tohimatonceandtoldhimallhernews.Insteadshehadheldback,embarrassed.Shestoodtogotohim,thenhesitated.

Don’thesitateifyouknowit’sright,Miriremindedherself.Justswing.Herpalmswerehot,andsheclenchedherfistsandtriedtothinkofwhatshe

wouldsay. Inherdistress,hermindclung to theConversation lessons.Repeathis name. Ask questions. Make observations, not judgments. Return theconversation to him.And somethingBritta had added: If youwant to impresssomeone,actasthoughtheyareyourbetter.

“Hi, Peder,” said Miri, approaching where he sat alone. “How have youbeen?”

“Allright,thanks.”Hisvoicewasshort,asifhedidnotwanttospeakwithher.Shealmostranawaythen.Beingnearhimmadeherinsidesfeelliketwistedvines,chokingandbloomingat thesame time,andheronlyclear thoughtwasthathissmilewasworthtrudgingfor.

“MayIsitwithyou?”“Sure.”Shesatbesidehimonacutlinderblock,carefulnottoletherlegtouchhis.

“I’dliketohearabout...howthingshavebeen...lately.”“Fineenough.AlittlequieterthanusualwithoutEsainthehouse.”She continued to pose questions, using his name, making eye contact,

making sure hermannerisms showed shewaswholly focused onhim.After atime,hisresponsesgot longer.Soonshehadhimtalkingfreelyabouthowthatwinterhadbeenthebleakesthehadknown.

“NeverthoughtI’dmissmylittlesister,”hesaidplayfully.“Esa...andallthegirls.”

Miriwondered,IshethinkingofBenaorLiana?HeglancedatMiri,thenbackathishands.“Ineverthoughtthateverydayof

workingthequarrycouldgetanyworse.”“What do youmean, worse? Don’t you like the mountain? You wouldn’t

ratherbealowlander.”“No, of course not.”He picked up a linder shard frombeside her boot. “I

don’tmind quarrywork, really, but sometimesmyhead gets tired of it, and Iwantto...I’dliketomakethings,notjustcutstone.IwanttodoworkthatI’mreallygoodat,thatfeelsjustright.”

It chilledMiri to hear him speak soopenly, and thoughts so like her own.Insteadofshouting,“Metoo!That’showI feel!”sheremembered therulesofConversationandstayedfocusedonhim.“Ifyoucoulddoanythingintheworld,whatwoulditbe?”

Hethoughtamoment,openedhismouth,thenshruggedandtossedtheshardaway.“Nevermind,it’snothing.”

“PederDoterson,youhadbesttellmenow.I’llholdmybreathuntilIknow.”Hepickedupanewlindershardandexamineditscolor.Miriwaitedforhim

tospeak.“Itdoesn’treallymatter,butI’vealways...Youknowthecarvingsonthe

chapeldoors?I’vestaredandstaredatthemthewayIseeyousometimeswatchthesky.”Helookedoverherfaceasifhewerestudyingthecarvings.Hislookstilledher. “As long as I can remember, I’vewanted tomake things like that,somethingmorethanblocksofstone.Isometimes...Youpromisenottolaughatme?”

Mirinoddedearnestly.“YouknowhowIcarvelittlethingsfromthrown-offlinder?”“Yes,”shesaid,“youmademeagoatonce.Istillhaveit.”Hesmiled.“Youdo?Irememberthatgoat.Hehadacrookedsmile.”“Aperfectsmile,”saidMiri.IthadalwaysremindedherofPeder’s.“It’s probably childish, but I like making things like that. Linder shapes

reallywell,betterthanrubblerock.I’dliketomakedesignsintheblocks,thingsrichlowlandersmightbuytohaveoverdoorwaysorabovetheirhearth.”

TheideacaughtMiri’sbreath,itwassoperfect.“Whydon’tyou?”“IfPaeverfoundmemakingstonepictures,he’dwhipmeforwastingtime.

We barely cut enough linder each year to trade for food, and it doesn’t seemlikelythatanythingwilleverchange.”

“Itmight.”Shemeant for thecomment to slipunnoticed,but something inhertonemusthaveintriguedhim.

“How?”heasked.Mirishruggedoffthequestion.Itwasgoingtoowelltogiveupontherules

of Conversation now. He pressed again, wanting to hear about what she hadbeendoingattheacademyallwinter,andagainshetriedtokeeptalkingabouthim.

Pedersighedinfrustration.“Whyareyoubeingsoevasive?Tellme,Ireallywanttoknow.”

Miri hesitated, but his attention was irresistible, and she had a thousandstoriestremblingonhertongue.Thenhesmiledinhisway,therightsideofhismouth curving higher. She rubbed his tawny curls as she might her favoritenannygoatafteramilking.

“Youmaybesorryyouasked,”shesaid,anddrownedhimwiththeaccountof the last fewmonths, telling all from getting her palms lashed and the firstsnowfalltotheirescapefromtheschoolearlierthatday.Shespokequickly,hertonguefeelinglikeahummingbird’swing;shewassoafraidofboringhimifshetooktoolong.Thenshedescribedhowshehadbeenexperimentingwithquarry-speech,howshecouldshareamemory,not justdeliverawarning,andhowitsometimesworkedoutsidethequarry.

“Thoughitsometimesdoesn’t.”Sheliftedherhandtosayshedidnotknowwhy.

“Tryitrightnow.”Miriswallowed.Quarry-speakingwithEsaandFridhadfeltlikeagame,but

withPederitbecamesomethingintimate,likereachingforhishand,likelookingintohiseyesevenwhenshehadnothing tosay.Hopingshewasnotblushing,

she rappedherknuckleson the linderblockandsangaboutagirlwhocarrieddrinkingwaterinthequarry.Sheletthesongguideherandbegantomatchherthoughtstoitsrhythm,searchingforagoodmemorytouse,whenPederstoppedherwithasmile.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Nowshedidblush,cursingherself forchoosingasongabouta love-struck

girl.“I’m...Ithoughtyousaidtotrytoquarry-speak.”“Yes,butyouknowyoudon’thavetopoundandsing,right?”Pederwaited

forhertoagree,butshejuststared.“Youknowthatinthequarrywehappentobe pounding and singing while we work, but that we can use quarry-speechwithoutdoingallthat.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, smiling. “Of course I knew that.Only an idiotwouldthinkyouhavetopoundthestonetomakequarry-speechafterall.”

“Yes,ofcourse.”Helaughed,andshelaughedback,bumpinghimwithhershoulder.Pederhadalwaysbeengoodaboutlettinghermistakesslide.

“So you don’t have to pound, and the only singing happens inside.” Shesplayedherhandonthestoneandwithoutasongquarry-spoketoPeder.Itfeltlike whispering something right to his heart.When her vision shuddered, sheshiveredaswell.

“That was strange.” Peder looked at her. “Is that what you mean bymemories? It felt likequarry-speech,but I’mused tohearing thewarningsweuseaswework.Thistime,IwasjustthinkingabouttheafternoonwhenImadethatlindergoat.”Hiseyeswidenedashisthoughtsseemedtoraceforward.“Isitbecauseyou spoke amemory?One that I knew,one that I lived, so itwas socleartome...Miri,that’samazing.”

“Iwonderwhyitworkednow....”Mirismoothedherhandoverthestone.Thelinderwaschippedandirregularandpockedwithchiselmarks,notsmoothlikethepolishedfloorstonesoftheacademy.Sheliftedherfingerstohermouthand pressed them against her growing smile. A new idea sent her spinning.“Peder,IthinkIunderstand.Ithinkit’sthelinder.”

“What’sthelinder?Whatdoyoumean?”Shestoodup,feelingasthoughtheideaweretoobigtocrouchinsideherand

neededroomtostretch.“Theacademyfloor ismadeof linder,sois thisstone,andthewholequarry...yousee?Thoseothertimeswhenitdidn’twork,Imusthavebeenoutside or on rubble rock.Maybequarry-speechworks best aroundlinder.”

“Sitbackdownandletmetry.”Heyankedherarmandshesatbesidehim.Thistimeshewasalittlecloser,thesidesoftheirlegstouching.

Heclosedhiseyes, themusclesofhisforeheadtense.Miriheldherbreath.Foratimenothinghappened.Thenshefoundherthoughtsflashtothatafternoononthegrazinghill,thescrapeofPeder’sknifeonashardoflinder,aplaitedmirichain dangling from her fingers. Itwas her ownmemory, but stronger, vivid,pulled forward to the frontofher thoughts,and fullofcolor.Andsheknew itwasPederspeakingthatmemory,thewaysheknewthesmellofbakingbread—ithadthesenseofhim.

“Icouldn’tfigureitoutatfirst,”hesaid.“I’msousedtorepeatingthequarrywarningswealwaysuse.”

“Youtoldmeoncethatquarry-speechwaslikesinginginside,andthat’showIknewwhattodo.”

“Huh,” he said, shaking his head. “A lot has happened while you wereaway.”

“I’dtellyoumoreifIthoughtIcoulddoitbeforesunup.”“I’m sure youwould. Itmust have been very hard to keep quiet all those

weeks.”Miripunchedhisshoulder.“Icanimagineyouattheacademywindow,lookingofftowardthevillage,”

hesaid,“believingyoucouldseeitifyoujustlookedhardenough.Youalwayswereahawk,gazingatthemountainsasifyoucouldseeamouserunningonafarhill,orattheskyasifyoucouldcounteveryfeatheronasparrow’swing.”

Miri did not respond. She felt as though she were floating underwater,tippingandsinking.Didhewatchherjustasshewatchedhim?

“I’ve never told anyone about carving stone,” he said. “I don’t know howyougotitoutofme.”

Miri laughed. “Because I’m pushier than a billy goat mad. I won’t tell

anyoneelse.”“Iknowyouwon’t.Iknowthataboutyou.”Heheldtheendofherbraidand

brusheditacrosshispalm.Hefrownedasifanewthoughtoccurredtohim.“Doyoueverwearyourhairloose?”

“Sometimes.”Hervoicecreaked,buthermouthwastoodrytoswallow.“Ididlastyearatautumnholiday.”

“That’s right.” His expression was distant, as if he were remembering. “Imissall thetimewehadwhenwewereyounger,don’tyou?It’dbenicetogoexploringthepeakagain,maybeonrestdays.”

“It would.”Miri held very still, afraid that if shemoved shemight spookPeder and like a lonewolf hewould suddenly run off. “When I’m not at theacademyanymore.”

Pederletgoofherbraid,butMiristillcouldnotquitecatchherbreath.Heturnedhishandsover,asiflookingforsomethinghelost.

“Theacademy.So,youmightmarrytheprince?”“Oh,Idon’tknow,”saidMiri, justthendiscoveringthatshewassorefrom

sittingsolong.“I’mtryingtodomybestintheclasssomaybehe’dnoticeme.Imean,he’dhavetochoosemefromalltheothergirls...andI’mnottryingnottobetheprincessoranything.It’sjust...hewon’tpickme.”

“Whynot?”saidPeder.“Imean,whywouldn’the?You’rethesmartestoneintheclass.”

“Ididn’tmeantomakeitsoundlikethat—”“Well,Ibetyouare,”interruptedPeder,hisvoicerising.“Andifhe’shalfa

princehe’llseethatandthenwanttocarryyouofftothelowlandstoputyouinfancydresses.ButIdon’tthinkyouneedtowearlowlanderdresses.You’rejustfine.”Hestood.“Nevermind.Ishouldgetbacktomyfamily.”

Miri wanted to say something that mattered before he walked away. Sheblurted,“Iwon’ttellanyoneaboutyourstonecarving.ButIthinkit’swonderful,andIthinkyou’rewonderful.”

He stood there, letting the silence stretch thinner and thinner until Miri’spanickedheartleftherwithnothingmorethanburningcheeks.

“You’remybestfriend,youknow,”hesaid.

Mirinodded.“Iwish Ihad something togiveyou, somewelcomehome.”Hepatted the

pocketofhisshirt,asiflookingforanythingatall.“It’sallright,Peder,youdon’thaveto—”Swiftlyhestooped,kissedhercheek,anddisappeared.Mirididnotmoveforthreeversesofthenextbonfiresong.Asmiletugged

atonecornerofhermouthlikeabrooktroutonafishingline,butshewastoostaggeredtogiveintoit.

“Thatwentwell,”shewhisperedtoherself,andthendidsmile.“Whatareyougrinningabout?”Brittasatbesideher,mirroringMiri’shappy

expression.“Nothing,”saidMiri,butshecouldnothelplookingwherePederhadgone,

andBrittafollowedherglance.“Oh.”Brittalaughed.“Nothing.”Mirilaughedinreturnandfeltherfacegohotagain,anditoccurredtoher

that after so much burning her cheeks should be ashes by now. She quicklychangedthesubject.“Whatdoyoulikebestsofar—thefood,stories,dancing,oracertainsmittenboybythenameofJans?”

Brittashookherhead,refusingtoacknowledgeMiri’spointedquestion.“It’sallwonderful.Ithinkthisisbetterthananylowlanderparty.”

Miri elbowed her. “Look at how you say ‘lowlander’ as if you were amountaingirl.”

“I’dliketobe,”saidBritta.“Thenyouare,”saidMiri.“That’stheonlyceremonyyouneed.”The drums and singing died out, and Gerti’s father, Os, called for village

council.Theyouthmovedaway from thebonfires to leave thebusiness to theolder folks. An excited rumble in her stomach reminded Miri that she hadsomethingtopresent.

“Comeon,Britta,Imayneedyourhelp.”Mirihadneverattendedcouncilbefore.Shesatbesideherpa,herheadonhis

shoulder, Britta by her side. The talk concerned recent linder blocks cut, aninjury of a stone braker due to carelessness, the most promising parts of the

quarrytoundertakenext,andtheuseofsuppliesoverthewinter.“But no matter how much linder we cut, Os, it won’t be enough,” said

Peder’sfather.“Theabsenceofthegirlsmeantfewerhandstohelp.Myownboyhashadtocaremorefor thegoatsandthehome,andthat’sonelessstonethisseason.Isn’tthatright,Laren?”

Miri’sfathernodded.“Ifeelthepinchthisyear.”Mirirose.“Ihavesomethingtosay.”Herfatherraisedhisbrowsbutdidnotspeak,andOs indicated thatshego

ahead.Mirihummedherthroatclear.“At the academy, I found a book that explains how linder is sold in the

lowlands.Apparently,ourstoneissoprizedthatthekinghimselfwillonlyuselinderforhispalaces,andtheonlyplaceinallofDanlandthatproduceslinderisrighthere.Sobecausedemandforlinderishighandsupplyislimited,it’sworthagreatdeal.”

She glanced at her pa to see if he approved. He was listening, but hisexpressionbetrayednoopinion.Miriclearedherthroatagain.

“Intherestofthekingdom,theytradeforgoldorsilvercoinsinsteadofjustfoodandsupplies.Inthecapital,ablockoflinderisworthonegoldcoin,andinturnagoldcoincanbuyfivebushelsofwheat.”

Shepaused,waitingforexclamations,butnoonespoke.Thenherpatouchedherarm.

“Miri,”hesaidsoftly.“I know I’m asking you to believe a lowlander book, but I believe it, Pa.

Whywoulda lowlanderwriteanythinggoodaboutMountEskelunless itwastrue?”

Brittaspokeup.“Mirishowedmethebook,andIthinkit’strueaswell.”Osshookhishead.“It’seasytobelievethetraderswillcheatusasmuchas

theycan,butwhatcanwedoaboutit?”“Refuse to trade foranythingbutgoldorsilver,andatdecentprices,”said

Miri.“Theniftheydon’thaulenoughgoodstotradeforourcutlinder,wecantaketheirmoneydownthemountaintobuyevenmore.”

“There’s a largemarket in a town three days fromhere,” saidBritta. “We

stayedat an innonmy journey last summer.Goldand silver therewouldbuyyoumuchmorethanwhatthetradersbringtoyourvillage.”

Os rubbed his beard. “I can see the value in trading elsewhere, but if thetraderswon’ttakeourlinderforgold...”

“If theywon’t,” saidDoter, her eyes brightening, “we threaten to take thelinderdownthemountain.Ifwetradelinderinthatmarketourselves,we’llearnevenmore.”

“No,no,”saidKatar’sfather.“Wedon’thavethewagonsormules,andwedon’t know the first thing about a townmarketplace.What ifwe drag all ourblocksthereandnoonebuys?Whatifintheprocessweoffendthetradersandtheyneverreturn?”

Thefearinthatargumenthushedallthetalk.Miricurledhertoesinherbootsandmadeherselfspeakupagain.

“Idon’tthinkthelikesofEnrikwouldlet itgothatfar.Ireallybelievethetradersaremakingheapsofmoneyfromourstone.They’llknowwecouldsellthe linder for more in the lowlands, and then they would be cut out of anyprofit.”Miri lookedagain at her father and tried to stampdown the tremblinghopeinhervoice.“Whatdoyouthink,Pa?”

Henoddedslowly.“Ithinkit’sworththerisk.”AsighofreliefdraggedoutofMiri’schest.The idea sparked talk thatdidnotdiedownuntil the flamesdwindled into

embers. The adults debated every angle, how to go about it, what risks theyfaced. They consulted Britta on anything she knew of trade. Some wereconcerned that thevillagers couldnot tell true silver andgold fromanycheapmetalthetradersmighttrytogivethem.

“My father was a merchant. I can make sure they don’t cheat you,” saidBritta.“Butwhatifthekinggetsimpatientforthelinder,andhesendsmenupheretoquarrythestonethemselves?”

Severalchuckledatherquestion.“If all lowlanders have arms as skinny as the traders do,” said Frid’s pa,

“they’llhavetorestbetweeneachmalletstrike.”Mirifoldedherownskinnyarmsunderhercloak.

“That’s one thingwe don’t have to worry about, Britta,” said Doter. “Letthemcome,andthey’llgiveupaftertheirfirstblockcracks.Wehavelinderinourbones.”

Thediscussioncontinued,andMirileanedintoherpa,drowsyfromwatchingthe fire.Hepattedherhair.Wehave linder inourbones,Doterhad said.We.Miriclung to theword,wanting tobeapartof itbutunsure ifshewas. Ifherideafortradingbecameasuccess,perhapsthenshecouldbemorecertain.

Hergazewanderedfromthegoldflamesto thedarkness thefirelightcouldnotreach.Pedermightbethere,listening,hopingforachancetocarvestone.

n

ChapterFourteen

She’saslovelyasagirlwithflowersinherhairThemountain,mylady

She’sasbrightasspringsundryingrainfromtheairMountEskel,mylady

nByaweekfollowingspringholiday,alltracesofwinterhadvanishedfromthemountain. The last hard patches of snowmelted into the mud, then the mudhardenedandgrassesgrew.Themiriflowerssprangupintherockcracks,facedthesun,andtwirledthemselvesinthebreeze.Onbreaks,thegirlsspunthepinkflowersandmadewishes.

Miri found herself again on a hill, watching the last miri petal fall. Shetouchedthelinderhawkhiddeninherpocketandthoughtofonewishshecouldmake. Then she turned west, away from the village, toward the pass and thelowlands,andthoughtofadifferentwish.

She dropped the flower stem and laughed before she could even form thethought.Ofcourseshedidnotwishtobetheprincess.Howcouldshewishtomarry someone she did not know?Katar’s talk about being special and doinggreatthingshadlodgedinherhead,Miridecided,andshejustneededtoshakethatnonsenseloose.

Buthereyesflickedbacktothewest.Whatwonderswaitedinthelowlands?Therewas,ofcourse,thatbeautifulhouseforPaandMarda,butwhenevershethoughtofgivingthemthatgift,shecouldnotimagineherselfactuallyweddedto a prince. For a moment she let herself wonder how such a future wouldchangeher.

“PrincessMiri,”shewhispered,andsurprisedherselfbyfeelingathrill.Thetitle added weight to her name, made her feel more significant. Miri was ascrawny,hopelessvillagegirl,butwhowouldPrincessMiribe?

Othergirlsonthehillwatchedthelastpetalontheirmiriflowerstickoffandfloataway.Miriwonderedhowmanywerewishingtowearasilvergownand

howmanywerewishingforatitlebeforetheirname.“Iusedtothinkthatwasthewholeworld,”saidEsa,sittingbesideMiriwith

Britta and Frid. Esa’s eyes sought out the swells and slopes of themountainsdimming from green to gray on the northern horizon. “Now I feel so small,percheduphereonourisolatedmountain.”

Mirinodded.Thatmorninga lecturefromOlanahadshakenadrearyspiritover theirheads—linderrepresenteda tinyfractionof theDanlandereconomy,less than the sale of pig ears or cloth flowers for ladies’ hats; the entirepopulationofMountEskelwassmallerthanthenumberofpalacestablehands;thewoodenchapeldoors,so lovedandprizedbythevillage,weresmallerandlessornatethanthefrontdoorsofanyAslandianmerchant.

“Thelowlandsaren’tsodifferentfromhere,”saidBritta.“Justbiggerand...”

“Alotbigger,”saidFrid.“It’shardtofeellikeImatteratall,”saidEsa.Katarstrolledby,twirlingabaremiristem.“Aprincessmatters.”When no one argued, Miri knew she had not been the only one

contemplatingthewesternhorizonwhenmakingherwish.Theworldhadneverfeltsowide,agreatgapingmouththatcouldswallowallofthemwhole.ItmadeMiriwishshecouldbiteback.

“Itdoesn’tseemtomatterwhatwethink,”saidMiri.“Theprincewillcomeuphereand lookatusas ifwe’rebarrels ina trader’swagon.And if I’msaltporkandhedoesn’tcareforsaltpork,thenthere’snothingIcando.”

HereyesfoundKatarwalkingdownthehill.ButIcandosomethingaboutacademyprincess,shethought.

Itwouldbeharderthanshehadhoped.TheoldergirlshadbeenspookedbyMiri’s tiewithKatarafter thefirstexam,andBena,Katar,andLianaspentalltheirfreetimewithopenbooks.Mirigazedlonginglyatspringeruptingoutsidethewindowbut forcedherself tostudy—at least,mostof the time.Britta,Esa,andFridcouldcoaxheroutsideforanostalgicgameofWolfandRabbiteverysooften.

At first, the new arrangementwithOlana felt little better than before. She

wastenseandshortoftemper,asifuneasywiththethreatoftutoringruffiansina swamp but unable to soften her hard demeanor. But graduallyMiri felt themood ease.The girlswho at first tried to take advantage of the new situationfoundafteralostmealthattheyshouldstilllistentoOlana.

Just before the arrival of the traderswould afford them aweek off,Olanaheldanotherexamandannouncedthetopfivescores.KatarwasfirstandMirisecond.

“Sorry,Miri,” saidKatar.“Youknowyou’re tooshort to look right in thatgown,anyway.”

“You’retootallto...,”Miristumbled,unabletothinkofagoodresponse.Shecursedherselfsilently.“Nevermind.”

Esa was shocked and thrilled to hear she was third, until Bena and Lianacaughtuptoherontheirwalkhomeforthenextrestday.

“Ithinkyougirlsonthefourteen-year-olds’rowarecheating,”saidBena.“Iwasn’tcheating,Bena,”saidEsa.“I’vebeenstudying.”“Oh?SohaveI,andthere’snochancebothyouandMiricouldbeatme.I’ll

bewatchingyou.”“Metoo,”saidLiana.“Iguesstheydon’tlikeanyonewhoiscompetition,”saidMiriaftertheolder

girlshadmovedaway.“AtleastIamcompetition,”Esasaidcheerfully.Thegirlswereafewminutesfromthevillagewhenthesoundofadonkey

bawlingechoedoffthemountainside.Acaravanoftraderwagonscameupfrombehind,Enrikatthelead.

“Britta,they’rehere,”Miriwhispered,pressingahandtoherbelly.“Whatifitdoesn’twork?What if they refuse to trade forgold, takeaway the supplies,andwecan’tgetthelinderdowntoamarket,and—”

“The academy released you all for the trading, did they?” said Enrik,squintingatthegirlsasherodeby.“Well,Ihopeyourpeoplehavebeenhardatworkwithoutyou.Ishouldbegrumpytocomeallthewayhereforhalfaloadoflinder.”

Miri and the girls ran behind the wagons and reached the village a few

minutesafterthem.Thetraderswerestoppedbeforeagatheringofvillagers.Osstoodattheirhead.

“This is outrageous!” one of the traders was saying. “Wewon’t buy yourlinderatsuchprices.Thenwhatwillyoudo?Starve,that’swhat.”

“That’sariskwetake,”saidOs.AbriefglanceatMiri’sfatherwastheonlysignthathemightbeunsure.Pafoldedhisarms,astancethatmadehimappeartwiceasbroadandassolidasthemountain.

“If you refuse,”Os continued, “we’llmanage to haul our linder down themountainourselves,sellitatthefirsttownfortriplewhatyoupay,andmakethelocalmerchantsthererichwhentheyresellthestonetothecapitalfortriplewhattheypaid.We’llwin,they’llwin,everyonewillwin.Exceptyou.”

The pause that followed made Miri want to hop from foot to foot. If itworked,theirliveswouldchange.Ifnot,ifMiri’ssuggestionruinedeverything...Sheshuthereyes,afraidtothinkaboutit.

“Doyouthinkthey’llagree?”Brittawhispered.“I don’t know,” saidMiri, curling and extendingher toes insideher boots.

“ButIwishthey’dhurryanddecide,whatevertheydo.”“Whenwegetback toAslandand thekinghearsabout this,” saida trader

withwhitehairandasmoothface,“he’llsendotherstominethelinder.I’vehalfamindtodoitmyself.”

“Gorightahead,”saidOs,hisarmopenandgesturingtothequarry.Thetraderhesitated,andmanyofthelowlandersexchangedglances.“Doyouhaveanyideawhatit takestofindquietstone?”saidDoterinher

round,loudvoice.“Quietstone—thelinderthatsleeps,thatisgoodandsound,has fissures in just the rightplaces, butnot toomany.Doyouhave the ear tohearwhere to break it from themountain, the eye to knowwhere to slide thewedge,howmanytapsof themallet,notonetoomany,notonetoofew?Andthen there’s thesquaring tobedone.You’re fools, the lotofyou, ifyou thinkwe’renotaware thatwe’re theonlypeoplealivewhoknowthismountainandknowlinderandhowtoharvestitforpalacesandkings.Sodon’ttrythatthreatonusagain.”

AgushofwarmthenteredMiri’schest,shefeltsoproudandhappytobepart

ofapeoplewhoknewacraftnooneelsedid.ShewantedtoruntoEsa’smotherand hug her, and the desire pricked in her heart the old, tiny wound thatremindedhershedidnothaveamotherofherown.Shesidleduptoherpa.

After Doter’s lecture, both sides were quiet, waiting for a decision. Miriwonderedifworrycouldactuallykillaperson.

Enrikmoaned,runningahandthroughhisgreasyhair.“Itoldyoutherewasariskallthatlearningattheacademymightsmartenthemup,andnowit’scometothis.”HeturnedtoOs.“Fine,butyouraskingpriceistoohightoaccountforourcostsandreasonableprofit.I’llgiveyouonegoldpieceforthreeblocksoflinder.”

Mirihadtositdown,shewassodizzywithrelief.“Enrik!”oneofthetradersshouted.“I’mnotgoingbackempty-handed,”saidEnrik.Soon others were agreeing as well, some less reluctant than others, and

tradingbegan.ManyvillagerscametoMiritoverifyfairprices.Mirisaid,“Yes,I think so,” or, “I’d ask for a bitmore.” For themoment, in herwoolens andbraidedhair,shefeltasimportantassheimaginedshewouldinthesilvergownandacrown.

Sincethetradershadnothauledenoughsuppliestotradeforthelinderatthenew prices, they purchased the surplus with gold and silver coins. Os askedBrittatomakesuretheyweregenuine,andBrittaexaminedeachone,hefteditinherpalm,bitdown,andnoddedapproval.

Half the village put their shoulders to loading the finished blocks in thewagons.Asthetradersandvillagersworkedtogether,Miriwassurprisedtohearpleasantchatter.Someevenagreedtostaytheeveningandshareamealwiththevillagers.

Miristoodbyhersister,observingatraderpataquarrierontheback.“Seemsstrange.Ithoughtthey’ddislikeusevenmore.”

“Maybeit’shardtorespectsomeoneyou’recheating,”saidMarda.Whentheworkoutsidethequarryslowed,MiritookBritta’shandandthey

walkedthroughthevillage,Mirirecountingwhohadmarriedwhoseson,recentquarryinjuries,familysecrets,andanyothervillagetidbitsshecouldthinkofto

helpBrittafeelmoreathome.JustwhenMiriwasenactinganexuberantretellingofthetimeFrid’sbrother

wassowoozyafteraspinningdancethathefellfacefirst intogoatdroppings,Pederwalkedby.Hedidnot somuchasglanceatMiri, as thoughshewereastranger,as thoughtheirconversationatspringholidayandthelinderhawkonthe windowsill had been daydreams. She stared, stunned by a twinge in herchest.Shehatedthefeelingandneededalaughtodislodgeit.

“Britta,didItellyouaboutwhenPederdecidedtotakeawinterbath?”Pederstoppedwhenheheardhisname.Mirikepttalkingwithoutlookinghis

way.“Hehadstolenmystrawdoll,andIwaschasinghimoutpastthechapel.It’d

beensunnythedaybeforeandmeltedsnowfilleduptheoldquarryholes,soyoucouldn’ttellflatgroundfromthepits.He’djustturnedaroundtotauntmewhen,whoosh!”MirimimedPederdroppingdown.“Hedisappearedcompletely.Youshould’veseenthesurpriseonhisfacewhenhisheadpoppedbackup, likehethought thewholeworldhadbeen tuggedout fromunderhis feet.Heclimbedout,soaked,hishairstraightandhangingdown inhis face,andhesaid in thisshocked,breathlessvoice,‘What’dyoudo?’”

Brittawaslaughing,andshesnorted,turnedred,andlaughedharder.Pedergrinned.“Istillthinkyoudidsomething.”“Yes, that’s right. I dug a hole, filled it with icy water, tempted you into

stealingmydoll,andforcedyoutorundirectlyintoit....”“Iwouldn’tputitpasther,”PedersaidtoBritta.“Thedollwas ruined,but itwasworth it to see that surprise frozenonhis

face.”“Youlaughnow,”saidPeder,“butbesttakecarewhatyourflappingmouth

reveals or Imight have to tell howone spring holiday you threwoff all yourclothesandranout—”

Miri put her handoverPeder’smouth. “Iwas three,” she said throughherlaughs.“Threeyearsold.Three!”

Peder’seyeswidenedimpishly,andhelaughedunderherhand.Shethoughtoftryingtowrestlehimtotheground,thenrealizedthatshewastouchinghim

andhehadnotpushedheraway.Heroldfearseizedher,andshelethimgo.“Peder!”hisfathercalled,andheranofftohelpinthequarry.Miriputher

handinherpocketandheldthelinderhawk.“Youlikehim,don’tyou?”askedBrittawhenhewastoofarawaytohear.Mirishrugged.“Doyou?”“Idon’tthinkanyoftheboysinthevillageknowI’mhere.”“Oh,yes?ThenwhataboutJans?”“DoyouknowthatyouavoidtalkingaboutPeder?”Brittaasked.“OrmaybeyoujustavoidtalkingaboutJans.”“Miri,”saidBrittawithatouchofexasperation.Mirislumpedontoaboulder.“WhatshouldIsay?ThatIlikehimsomuchit

hurts?”“Maybeyoushouldtellhim.”“ButwhatifIdoandhelooksatmelikeI’msaltfishrotteninthebarrel,and

thenIcanneverbehisfriendagain?”MiriwaitedforBrittatosaysomethingreassuring,butshejustnodded.“Nevermind, I’mnot reallyworried about it,”Miri said quickly, trying to

affect indifference. “I guess I shouldn’t keepyou tomyselfwhenyouhaven’tbeenhomeyet.”

“Honestly,” saidBritta, “theacademy feelsmore likehome tome thanmysecondcousin’shouse.”

“Aren’ttheykindtoyou?”“They’re not unkind,” said Britta. “When I arrived, I brought food and

suppliessoIwouldn’tbeaburden,butIstillfeel,Idon’tknow,notunwelcome,justunwanted.”

“Doyoumissyourrealparents?”“No,” said Britta. “Does thatmakeme a bad person? Imiss other people

fromthe lowlands—awomanwhousedto takecareofme,afamily that livednearby.Butmyfatherwasalwaysgone,andmymotherwas...”Sheshrugged,unabletofinishhersentence.Shestaredhardatthegroundwitheyeswideopen,asiftryingtodrythemout.

MirididnotwantBrittatocryandsochangedthesubject.“Wouldyoulike

tospendthisweekatourhouse?Youcansharemypallet.”Brittanodded.“I’dlikethat.”“ThensowouldI,LadyBritta.”TheyhadreachedBritta’shouse,soBrittastepped in togreether relatives,

andMiricontinuedontothequarry.From the near edge, she could see the green stream come down the high

slope,jogaroundthequarrypit,andthenemptybelowit,nowmilkwhite.Theair was powdered with fine, white dust. The half-exposed slabs and laboringvillagersgavetheplaceenergy,afeelingthatherewaswherealltheworkoftheworldwasdone.Hereeverythingwasimportant.

SometimesjustlookingatitmadeMiri’schestfeelhollow.Herfatherwasloadingablockontoatraderwagon.Hesawher,brushedhis

hands clean, and put his arm around her shoulder. Miri thought the gesturemeanthewasproudofhowshehadhelpedwiththetrading,orshehopeditdid.AtleastIhavethatmuchtoofferthevillage,shethought.Sheturnedtohimandtookinthefather-smellofhisshirt.

Herfather’sarmtensed,andshelookedtowherehewasstaring.Two boys were pulling a block up the steep slope of the quarry pit, and

Marda was behind them. She acted as a stone braker, inserting two woodenwedgesbeneaththestoneeveryfewpacestopreventitfromfallingbackincasetheropeslipped.Miriwassmall,butstonebrakingdidnot takegreatstrength.She had always believed she could be the best stone braker in the quarry, ifgiventhechance.

PadidnottakehiseyesoffMarda.“Idon’tlikeit,”wasallhesaid.HelethisarmdropfromMiri’sshoulderandstartedtowardthequarry.

Miriheardthesilentboomofacommonquarry-speechwarning—Watchout,saidoneoftheboyspullingtheblock.Theotherboyhadlettheroperubagainstthecornerofthestone.Itwasfraying.

“Marda!”Pawasrunningnow.Mardadidnotturnoutoftheway.Shewasstilltryingtolodgeawedgeunderthestone.Astheboysscrambledfortherope,itsnapped,andMardadisappearedfromview.

Miriscrambledoverthelipandinsidethequarryforthefirsttimeinherlife.

HalfwaydowntheslopeMardalayonherside,herfacewhitewithpain,stripsofclothrippedoffherlegging.Pacradledherheadinhislap.

“Marda, are you all right?”Miri knelt beside her in the rock debris,whileotherworkersrushedin.“WhatcanI—”

“Getout,”saidherpa.Hisfacewasred,andangerfilledouthisvoiceandbuiltitloud.Shehadneverheardhimspeakmuchaboveawhisper.

“ButI...but—”“Getout!”Miri found herself stumbling and running backward even before she could

swallow her shock, turn, and flee. She left the quarry and did not stop andthought to just keep running until she fell. But someone stopped her. It wasDoter,Peder’sma.

“Letmego,”saidMiri,kickingandthrashing.Untilshespoke,shehadnotrealizedthatshewassobbing.

“Comehere.Hush now, comeon.”Doter held her tighter and tighter untilMiristoppedstruggling.Shelaidherheadonthebigwoman’sshoulderandletherselfcry.

“Thereyougo,”saidDoter,“letitallslideout.Unhappinesscan’tstickinaperson’ssoulwhenit’sslickwithtears.”

“Marda...wasinan...inanaccident,”saidMirithroughthesobs.“Isaw.She’sgotahurtleg,butIthinkshe’llbeallright.Takeamomentand

makesureyouare,littleflower.”“Why does he throw me out all the time?” Miri’s throat was sore from

sobbing. She pounded her fist against her knee, angry and embarrassed to becryinginfrontofsomeone,hatinghowitmadeherfeellikeahelplesslittlegirl.“AmIsosmallandstupidanduseless?”

“Don’tyouknow?”Dotersighed,andherchestheavedbeneathMiri’shead.“Oh,myMiriflower,whydoyouthinkhekeepsyououtofthequarry?”

“Because he’s ashamed,” saidMiri with years of bitterness rushing in herblood.“BecauseI’mtooscrawnytodoanygood.”

“Laren,youbig,dumb,tight-lippedfool,”saidDotertoherself.“Ishould’veknown better, I should’ve known he was too much of a man to explain.

Everyonein theworldknowsbut thegirl, theonlyonewhoshould.Shameonyou,Doter,fornotspeakingupyearsago....”

MirifeltstilledandsoothedbyDoter’stalk.Shewrestledwithhersobsuntilthey were subdued to quiet, painful shakes in her chest. It was useless tointerruptwhenDoter conversedwith herself, thoughMiriwas hungry to hearwhateversecretwasbehindit.

AtlastDotersighed.“Miri,doyouknowhowyourmadied?”“Shewassickaftershehadme.”MirifeltDoternod.“That’strue,butthere’smoretotell.Itwashighsummer

andtraderswerecomingupanyday.There’dbeenacostlynumberofaccidentsthat year, and the quarry didn’t have enough cut stone to trade for the nextmonth’s supplies.Yourma, shewas a stubborn girl, and though big as a fullmoonwithyouinherbelly,sheinsistedonhelpingoutinthequarry.Youmaybeabletoguesswhathappened.”

“Shewasstonebraking,”Mirisaidsoftly.“Oneoftheboystripped,thestoneslipped,andyourmatumbleddownthe

steepside.Thatnightyouwerebornbeforeyourtime.Shehungonforaweek,butshe’dbledalot,andtherearesomethingsapersoncan’tsurvive.”

“Forthatweek,shedidn’tletmeoutofherarms.”“Ofcoursenot,whywouldshe?Youweretinyandscrawnyandfuzzy,and

alsothemostbeautifulbabyI’veeverseen,exceptingmyown.”Miristartedtoprotest,butshenevercouldarguewithDoter.Osoftensaid,A

wiseoneneverdoubtsthewordsfromDoter’smouth.DotergraspedMiri’sshouldersandheldheratarm’slength.Miriletherhair

fallforwardtohideanysignsofcrying,butDoterhadaround,gladfaceandjustlookingathermadeMirifeeleasier.

“Noonecaresthatyoudon’tworkinthequarry,”saidDoter.Mirichokedonthisandstruggled tofreeherself,butDoterpinchedhershouldersharder,as ifdetermined to be heard. “I’m telling you now, no one cares. Do you thinkanyonebegrudgesmygirlEsaher timetendinghouse?WhenLarensays,Miriwon’tworkinthisquarry,everyonenodsandneverspeaksanotherwordaboutit.Youbelieveme,don’tyou?”

Mirishuddered,alastsobbreakingloose.“Your pa is a house with shutters closed,” said Doter. “There are things

goingoninsidethatapersoncan’tsee,butyousensehehasawoundthatwon’theal.”

Mirinodded.“Mardatakesafteryourpa,butyou,Miri,youareyourmaaliveagain.Look

atyourblueeyes,yourhair likeahawkfeather.Hecan’thelpseeingyouandthinkingofher.ItnearlykilledLarentoletMardaworkinthequarry,buthehadnochoicewithjustthreeofyouinthehouse.Howcouldhebearlettinghislittlegirlstepfootintotheplacethattookthelifeofherma?”

Theywalkedbackthroughthevillage,andMirikepthereyesonthegroundbeforeher.Thewholeworldhadshifted,andshewasnotsureshecouldkeepherfeet.

Shewashermaaliveagain.When Miri returned, she found Marda moved from the quarry into their

house.Frid’smotherhadpronouncedtheinjuryapainfullegbreakbutnothingserious.Whilethewomansetthebrokenleg,MiriheldMarda’shand,kissedhercheek, plaited her hair, and loved her as much as she felt, as much as sheimagined her mother would. That night,Miri gave Britta her pallet and sleptcurledupbesidehersistertocombherhairorstrokeherfacewhenMardacouldnotsleepforthepain.

Earlythenextmorning,Miriwoketoseeherpasittinginachair,staringathishands.Sheroseandpaddedtohim,herbarefeetsilent.Hereachedoutforherwithoutlookingupandpulledherintohischest.

“I’msorry,myflower.”Heheldhertighter,andwhenhisbreathshookonasob,Mirididnotneedto

hearanymorewords.Hewassorry.Shewashisflower.Theywouldbeallright.

n

ChapterFifteen

nLooknofartherthanyourhandMakeachoiceandtakeastand

nInamountainsummer,theworldsavoredeachday.Dawncameearly,invitingwaking up slowly and stretching and looking forward to everything. Olananoticedtheclass’sattentionstrayingtothewindow,sosheheldmoreandmoreclass timeoutofdoors.Thegirlsspentweeks learning thedances for theball,twirling,skipping,andslidingunderthesun.Thehardblueoftheskyappearedto arch above their heads amere arm’s length away. SometimesMiri reachedandjumpedandfanciedshenearlybrusheditssmooth,curvedshell.

Miri had never felt like this, light enough to float into the clouds. EvenKatar’sjabsandBena’sandLiana’sturnedbacksdidnothurtsomuch—Doter’sstorydrapedaroundher.Whatshehadlongbelievedwasnottrue,andnowtheworldwaswideopentodiscoverwhatwas.

Oneeveningafterchores,MirisatwithBritta,Esa,andFridonherpalletinthecornerofthebedchamberandconfidedinthemthestoryofhermother.

“So,didyou...doyouthinkI’maburdenonthevillage?”Mirispokelowenoughthathervoicewouldnotcarry.ShedidnotwanttogiveKataranythingelsetotauntherabout.“ThatI’mtooweaktoworkinthequarry?”

Fridfrowned.“NooneonMountEskelistooweaktoworkinthequarry.Iheardmymasayoncethatyourpakeptyouhomeforhisownreasons.IguessIneverthoughtaboutitagain.”

Miri rubbed her arms and laughed. “It’s wonderful, it’s just so hard tobelieve.It’slikeallmylifeIthoughttheskywasgreen.”

Esa layonher stomach,onearmproppingupher chin. “Thewayyouact,alwayslaughingoutloud,sayingwhatyouthink,Ineverwould’veguessedyouworriedwhatanyonethought.”

Britta had a shrewd smile. “I keep thinking about a talemy nurse used to

readtomeaboutabirdwhosewingsarepinnedtotheground.Haveyouheardit?Intheend,whenhefinallyfreeshimself,hefliessohighhebecomesastar.My nurse said the storywas about howwe all have something that keeps usdown.Sohere’swhatI’mwondering—ifMiri’swingsarefree,whatwillshedonow?”

Esagrinned.“Flyaway,Miribird,flyaway!”Miriflappedherarmsandcawed.“Whatareyoudoing?”saidBena,annoyed.Thegirlslaughed.Whereshould I fly?Miriaskedherselfall summerasshe traveledbetween

theacademyandhome.Olanadidnotlikeit,butshelivedbytheagreementandallowedthegirlsa

weekoffwitheachtradervisit.Wordofavillagewithgoldcoinstospendmusthavereachedmanyears,andtradersnewtothemountainarrivedwithspecialtygoods like strong-soled shoes, dyed cloth, chairs that rocked, ceramic cups,metalpails,paintedribbons,andsteelneedles.Thevillage’sfoodstoresbuiltup,sonoonehadtowaitwithemptybarrelsforthenexttradervisit.

Atmidsummer,MardaandPapresentedMiriwithanewpairofbootsforherfifteenth birthday. She marveled how she could not feel the sharper stonesthroughthesoles.

Mardawasrestingwhileherleghealed,soeachdayathome,Mirihelpedhersister to the shadeof anevergreen treebeside theirhouseandwith a shardofrubblerockscratchedlettersontheoldquarrywall.OnlatervisitsshebroughtabookfilchedfromOlana’sshelf,and thedaycamewhenMardareadanentirepageonherown.Sheleanedbackherheadandsighed.

“What’sthematter?”askedMiri.“Nothing. It feels good.” She looked to where the sun was grazing the

westernhills.“Youknowhowthelowlandershavealwaysbeenwithus,howthetraderstalkandsuch.I’vewonderediftheywereright,ifwearen’tassmart,ifthere’ssomethingwrongwithus.Withme.”

“Marda!Howcouldyoubelievethem?”“HowcouldInot?Whenyoufirststartedtoteachme,Iwasterrified.You’ve

donesowell,andIwassureI’dbetoodulltolearn.ThewholevillagewouldbethinkinghowMiri’stheheadoftheacademybuthersister’sgotgoatbrains.”

“Noonecouldthinkthat,especiallynotnowthatyou’retheonlyoneoutsidetheacademywhocanread.Besides,Katar’sfirstintheclass.”

Marda raisedher brows. “But if youwant tobe, I don’t knowof anythingthatcouldstopyou.”

MirialmosttoldMardathenoffeelingliketheoutcastofthequarryandthemean, tight spot of jealousy she had harbored in her heart for years. But thesensationwasloosening,anditdidnotseemtomatterasmuchanymore.

Before the academy, she had sat on her hill watching goats, and herimagination could dream of nothing grander than working in the quarry. Butnowshewasawareofthekingdombeyondhermountain,hundredsofyearsofhistory,andathousandthingsshecouldbe.

Shewouldnottestherfather’spainandasktoworkinthequarryagain.Shewouldfindherownplace.AndsittingunderatreewithMardaasshereadherfirst page felt like the best place in the entireworld.Miriwondered how shecouldmakethatgoodfeelinglast.

n

ChapterSixteen

IcutalldayandIsquaredallnightAndIthoughtI’dminedthemountain’smightThenIsawallmyworkbythebrightdawnlightThemountainwastheworldandmylaboramite

nOneearlymorningattheacademy,Miriwentoutsidebeforebreakfasttostretchandlookoutoverthemountains.Awindcameoutofthenorthandwhippedtheendofhershirttightagainstherhips.Itsmelledfaraway,notfamiliarandwarmlikesummerwind,butofemptyplaces,treesMirididnotknow,andsnow.Thescentmadehermusclestense.Itmeantsummerwasover,autumnwasdawning,andtheballwasjustweeksaway.

Intheacademy,themoodchangedwiththeweather.Everydaythatpassedwasoneday less to learnhow to impress theprinceandnot look likeanutterfool. The dances were practiced with uptight clumsiness, the curtsies withanxious stumbles.Olanayelledat them,“Doyouwant to look like imbeciles?Do you really want the guests to believe every frightful thing they’ve heardabout the outlying territories? Stand up straighter, pronounce yourwords. Forpity’ssake,stoplookinglikeyouwanttohumiliateme!”

Miritriedtorememberwheneverycurtsyhadbeguntofeelmoreimportantthanbreakfast.

For some of the summer, Miri had spent outdoor breaks teaching Brittaquarrysongsandrunningover thehills.Nowchangepulsedaround them,andshe felt pulled inside to bend over books and recite lists of kings and queens.Soonmostoftheothergirlswerestudyingthroughbreaksandrestdaysaswell.ShefoundherselfglancingoftenatKatar,wonderingiftheoldergirlhadcaughtthings thatMiri missed, or staring at the painting of the house with hope sostrongthatitfeltlikesomethingshecouldreachoutandgrab.Whenshefoundherselfinsuchamood,shetriednottothinkofPederatall.Hermindandhearttangled.

ThenOlanaannouncedthefinalexam.Eachgirlreadaloudfromabookandwas judgedonpronunciationandclarity.Knut stood in for theprince,and thegirls toe-heeled across the room and curtsied to him. He never put down hisstirringspoonandmeteachgirl’seyesasifitpainedhimterribly,butwithMirihemanagedahalfsmile.

During Miri’s turn at Dance, Katar caught her eye and winked. Miristaggeredinthemidstofastep,lookedaway,andtriedtoconcentrate.

“It’s all right, Miri,” said Britta, who was acting as her dance partner.“You’redoingreallywell.”

MiricouldhearBenawhisperhername.Aftertheindividualtests,thegirlsfollowedOlanatothetopofaslopewhere

thegroundwassoftenedwithgrass.Thewindfromthevalleysmelledasfreshas wind-dried laundry, and the sun warmed the top ofMiri’s head as thoughgivingherapat.Sheleanedbackonherhandsandfelthershouldersrelaxforthefirsttimeinaweek.Shewasconfidentthatshewouldpass.

“Takea long look,” saidOlana,gesturing to thenorthernhorizon.“It’s theonlyviewsomeofyouwilleversee.Sofar,severalhavenotdonewellenoughto pass the exam and attend the ball. Now is your last chance to redeemyourselves.Thosewhoareneartofailingmustanswercorrectlyeachquestionoryou will remain hidden in the bedchamber while everyone else dances andmakeseyesattheprince.”

Olanasatthegirlsinacircleandbeganthedecisivequiz.MirirecountedthefirstfivekingsofDanlandbeginningwithKingDanandKatarsuppliedthenextfive.Fridstumbledwithherquestionbutcameupwithacorrectanswer.

ThenOlanaturnedtoGerti.“NametheyearsoftheWarofRights.”Gerti’s faceddrainedof color.She squintedat the sky,her eyes searching,

but hopelessness made lines on her brow. Miri watched Gerti’s struggle andamazed herself by feeling relieved. In the contest for academy princess,everyonewascompetition.

“Theanswer,Gerti,”saidOlana.“I...”Mirithoughtofthepaintingofthehouse,ofMardasayingthatnothingcould

get inMiri’s way, of the silver gownwith tiny rosebuds and the feeling thatbuzzed in her boneswhen she thought of the significance the title “Princess”wouldaddtohername.At thatmoment, itall feltwispyandweedycomparedwithGerti’simmediateneed.

It’sjustnotfair,Mirithought.Everyonehasstudiedhardallyear.Weshouldatleastgetthechancetogototheball.

Herdecisionseemedobvious.Shewouldtrytohelp.Herinstinctwastousequarry-speech.ButhowcanItellGertianumberofa

year? She had found away to tell the girls to run. If she could find the rightthought,shemightbeabletocommunicateanything,particularlyastheacademygirlshadsomanysharedmemories.Itcouldwork.Itjustmight.

Byherfoot,asinglemiriflowerwiggledinthebreeze.Thatgaveherhope.The pink flowers seemed to thrive around beds of linder. The entire area hadonce been a working quarry, and surely there was a remnant. Still, Miri hadheard itwork onlywith solid stone like the living quarry and the floor of theacademy.

Olanasighed.“Justsayyoudon’tknow,Gerti,andwe’llmoveon.”Gerti’slipquivered.Mirisankherhandintotheautumngrass.Theremustbe

linderdeepdown.Shepushedharderandhoped.Despite what Peder had said, she still liked to sing aloud when quarry-

speaking; ithelpedher focus the internal singing thatpushedhermemory intothestone.Butshecouldnotriskithere.Shepressedthegroundandthoughtofher favoriteblock-squaringchant: “Themountainwas theworldandmy laborwasamite.”Sheorganizedherthoughtsandsangthemsilentlyintherhythmofthatchant.

MirirecalledtheHistorylessonwhenOlanafirsthadtalkedabouttheWarofRights. A fly had been caught in the room, buzzingmadly and thumping thewindow. Miri remembered because she had wondered how many times thatcrazyflycouldbounceofftheglassbeforeknockingitselfunconscious,andshehaddecided212times,thefirstyearofthewar.

“Twohundredtwelvetotwohundredseventy-six,”Olanahadsaid.“Sayit,class.”

Thump,thump,wentthefly.“Twohundredtwelvetotwohundredseventy-six,”theyhadrepeated.Thump,thump,thump-thump.Miri sang the memory into the earth—the fly drumming on the window,

Olanadeclaringtheyears,theclassrepeating.PerhapsGertihadnoticedthefly,too.Perhapswiththatnudge,thememorywouldcomeforwardforherandthesoundofthoseyearsfallfromhermindtohertongue.Miri’svisionshivered,herthoughtsclicked,thatmomentpainteditselfinfullcolorinhermind,butGerti’sfacedidnotchange.Miritriedagain,herquarry-speechsongroaringinsideher.

“Ifyouhaven’t rememberedbynow,Gerti, youwon’t,” saidOlana. “Nowthen,Liana,pleasename—”

“Twohundredand. . .“Gerti lookedup.Sheappearedtobetryingtotastesomethingpeculiaroridentifyadistantsmell.“Twohundredandtwelvetotwohundredand,uh,seventy.Seventy-six,Imean,seventy-six.”

Katar elbowed Miri in the ribs, having no doubt detected Miri’s quarry-speechaswell.Mirismiledbackpleasantly.

“Hm.That’scorrect,”saidOlana.Gerti lookedatMiriandsmiledasbigas thesky.Olanareturned toLiana,

who answered correctly, as did the next girl. ThenTonna tripped up over thefirstruleofConversation.

Mirihadnot thoughtofcontinuinghersilenthints,butshebelievedTonnahadasmuch right toattend theball asGerti.A jab fromKatarandawarninglookdecidedher.Miri searched for theperfectmemoryandsang itdown intothe mountain’s hidden linder and up into the minds of any listeners. Tonnasighedreliefandansweredthequestion.

Mirismiled.Itwasbeginningtobefun.The exam continued while the sun arced west, dragging their shadows

longer. Whenever a girl faltered or looked Miri’s way, she did her best tocommunicateahelpfulmemory.Shewas relieved thatBritta alwaysknewheranswers.

ThenFridcouldnotrememberthelastruleofdiplomaticnegotiations.Miriquarry-spokeofthedayOlanahadintroducedtherulesofDiplomacy,butFrid

just stared at the ground with her familiar wide-eyed expression and seemedresolvedtodefeat.Miridugherfingersdeeperintotheearth,andifshehadsungaloud, her quarry-speechwouldhavebeen a shout; but no recognition crossedFrid’sface.Whetherthememorywasunclearorthequarry-speechwastoofaintonthathill,itwasnotworking.

“I’msorry,”Miriwhispered.“Silence,”warnedOlana.Thenanothervoiceinquarry-speech,faint,delicate.Thefeelingofthatvoice

could not have been more clearly Gerti’s than if she had spoken aloud.MiriclosedhereyestoconcentrateandsawinhermindhernegotiationswithOlanawhenshehadforgottenthefinalruleandKatarhadsteppedin.

Frid’sdulleyessparkled.“Givethemalimitforacceptingtheterms.”“‘Assertadeadline foracceptance’ is thecorrectanswer,”saidOlana,“but

thatwilldo.”Gertibeamed.Andfromthenon,noonehesitatedonananswerwithoutbeingdelugedwith

hintsfromadozendifferentgirls,somelesshelpful,someexact,buttheflailinggirlalwaysmanagedtosortthroughthemandcomeupwiththecorrectanswer.Ontheoutside,thegirlswereserenebutforafewslysmiles,theirhandsrestingcasuallyonthegroundasifinterestedinthegrass.Butontheinside,thefeelingofthatquarry-speechwasliketensongssungatonce,allindifferentvoices,alljoyous.

Soanxiouswerethegirlstohelp,Mirididnothaveanotherchancetostepin,saveonce.

“Did you hear me, Katar?” said Olana. “What is the formal name of thecurtsyusedonlyforakingonhisthrone?”

“I,uh...”Katarlookedatthesky,attheground,atherfingernails,anywherebutatthe

girls,asifrefusingtoaskforhelp.Andnooneoffered.Mirithoughtitpossiblethat none of the girls could recall, but many placed their hands in their laps,explicit in their refusal.EvenBena andLiana lookedover their shoulders andexaminedtheaspectofthefarhill.Katar’sglanceflickedtoMiriforthebriefest

moment,andthenaway.ToMiri’srecollection,Olanahadgiventhenameofthecurtsyonlyonce,but

Miri had read it recently during personal study. Katar would pass the examwithoutherhelp,butshemightnotscorehighenoughtobeacademyprincess.Miri grappled with herself. She did not want to give Katar anything, but hersenseof justicewouldnot allowher tohelp everygirl butone.Miri glared atKatar, slappedherhandon thegrass,andsangmutelyofOlana’s introductorylectureonPoise.Afterafewmoments,Katarnodded.Hervoicewasveryquiet.

“Iremembernow.”Sheclearedherthroat.“It’scalledtheheart’soffering.”Afterthelastquestion,Olanawhistledalongnoteofapproval.“You all scored one hundred percent on this portion of the exam. I didn’t

expect that.Well, go on to dinner, and I’ll calculate the scores for the entireexam. After dinner, I’ll announce who passed and who will be academyprincess.”

Littlefoodwasconsumedthatevening.Miriwatchedthefatcongealinheregg-and-wheat-bread soup and listened to the whispered conversations of theothergirls.Knutpassedbehindherandmuttered,“ThisisthelasttimeIbothertocooksomethingniceonatestday.”

“Youcookedsomethingnice?”saidMiri.“Whereisit?”Knuttousledherhair.Katar pushed awayher full bowl and staredout thewindow.Miri realized

thatbothgirls’legswereshaking,theirkneesbangingthebottomofthetable.“Looks likeKatar and I aredoingourbest toharvest and square this table

beforethetraderscome,”saidMiri,andseveralgirlslaughed.Mirihadjokedtobreakthetensionandnowbracedherselffortheinevitable

retort,butKatarjuststoodandleft.Mirirestedherchininherhands,happytohavethebetterofKatarforonce.

“It’stime,”Olanacalled.Theclassroomchairssqueakedasthegirlssatandadjustedthemselves.Miri

thought she might not be the only one holding her breath. Olana held aparchment.Hereyesseemedpleased,thoughhermouthgavenohintofasmile.

“Due to theunexpectedperformanceon the final test, you all passed,” she

said.Asquealofdelightwentup.Olanareadtheparchmentwiththeorderofthe

scores,startingwiththelowest.Mostofthegirlsatthebottomofthelistdidnotseemtomindtheirplaceandwerepleasedtohearthat theywouldbegoingtotheballatall.OlanastoppedreadingbeforeMiriheardherownname.

“The last five girls—Katar, Esa, Liana, Bena, andMiri—were so close, Icouldnotdeterminetheleader.SoIwillallowyoutodecide.”

Katar’sshouldersslumped.Mirifeltherlegshakingagainasherclassmateswhisperedtheirvotes toOlanaonebyone.Whenthe lastgirlsatdown,Olanasmiled.

“Over half of you voted for the same girl, a clear majority. Miri, comeforward.”

Miri’sheadwaslight,andasshewalkedtothefrontoftheclasssheseemedtofloat,as thoughshewereapuffof treepollenblownjustabove theground.ShekepthereyesonBritta,whowasgrinningmadly.

OlanaputherhandonMiri’sshoulder.“Theacademyprincess.”Andthegirlscheered.

Aftertheyweredismissedforbed,Miristeppedoutsidetohaveamomentwiththesunset,goldandorangethatpulledtheskyclose.Sheneededabreakfromateary Liana consoling a red-faced Bena and the scalding stares of some veryjealous seventeen-and eighteen-year-olds. It had been quite clearwho had notvotedforMiri.

Fromaspotatthecliff’sedge,Miricouldseethemountainsandhillsringingout fromMountEskel likewater ripples froma thrown stone. Just belowher,insteadofsheercliff,ashelfstuckout,soifshehappenedtosliponrubblerock,shewouldlandonthe ledgeinsteadoffallinga longwaydown.Shesawnowthatthisspotwasnotonlyherfavorite;Katarsatontherockyoutcrop,herkneespulledintoherchest.

Miriclimbeddownand tried to thinkof something reallygood tosay.Shewas just about to open her mouth when Katar made a sound like a strainedhiccup.

Itcouldn’tbeasob, thoughtMiri.ShehadneverseenKatarcry.Butwhen

Katarturnedtowardthelight,therewasanunmistakablesheenoftears.“Goaheadandgloat,”saidKatar.Mirifrowned.ShethoughtKatarwasactinglikeababytocryjustbecause

shedidnotwin.“Goon,” saidKatar. “Sayhowyou’re going towear that gownanddance

firstandbebeautifulandgotoAslandtobethefuturequeen.”“That’s not true, Katar. Just because I’m academy princess doesn’t mean

he’llchooseme.”“Yes,hewill.”Wouldhereally?“Ihaveachance,but—”“Itwasmyonlychance.Nobodyreallylikesme,sohowwillhe?”“Doyouwanttomarryhimsomuch?”askedMiri.“Idon’tcareabouttheprince,”Katarsnappedback.“Ijustwantedawayto

leavehere.Ihateithere.”Hervoicewentsoft,asifthewordswerealmosttoostrongtospeakaloud.

Katartossedapieceofrubblerock,andMirihearditstriketheslopebelow,disturbing other stones as it rolled. She was waiting for Katar to amend herstatement,butshedidnot.

Afterafewmoments,Mirisaid,“Youdon’treallyhateithere.”“Yes, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” Katar hurled another stone over the edge.

Whenshespokeagain,hervoiceshook.“IknowI’mnotliked.Ican’thelphowIam,butIfeelsotiredneverhavinganywheretogowhereIfeelgood.Notathome,certainly,notwithmymadead.”

“Mymotherdied,too,”saidMiri.“Butyourpaadoresyou.I’veseenhimlookatyouandMardaasifyouwere

themountainitself,asifyouweretheworld.”Hedoes?thoughtMiri.Herheartbeatonceasshethought,Hedoes.“Myfatherdoesn’tlookatmeatall,”saidKatar.“Maybeheblamesmefor

mymother dyingwhen Iwas born, ormaybe he justwishes Iwere a boy orsomeothergirlentirely.Everythingaboutthisplaceiscoldandhardandsharpandmeanand...andIjustwanttogoaway.Iwanttobesomebodyelseandseeotherthings.AndnowIneverwill.”

Mirishiveredatabreezecomingupfromthevalley.Allherlifeshehadseenherselfastheonlylonesomethingintheworld,butnowevenKatarseemedbutasmallchildlostonafarhill.

Katar held her face in her hands and sobbed, andMiri patted her shoulderawkwardly.

“I’msorry,”Mirisaid.Katar shrugged, and Miri knew there was nothing she could say. A true

friendmighthavebeenabletocomfortKatar,butMirifeltshebarelyknewthegirlbesideher.

Everything was strange and wonderful and wrong at once. The girls hadchosenMiriasacademyprincess.Autumnthrummedfreshandcoldonherskin.Anydaytheprincewouldcomeandtakeoneofthemaway.AndKatarsobbedmiseryatherside.

“I’msorry,”Mirisaidagain,hatinghowhollowthosewordssounded.Katarhad given her a small gift by opening her heart and showing her pain. Mirituckedthemomentinherownheartandhopedsomehowtorepay.

n

ChapterNineteen

SheputawedgebesidemyheartAndthenshebroughtthemalletdownShesangnosongtoguideherworkIlostmyheartwithoutasound

nThenextmorning,Miriscarcelyspoke.Shesatby thewindowand listened tothe swells andwhispersof conversation that filled theirbedchamber likewindfillsachimney.OthergirlshadheldprivatetalkswiththeprinceafterMiri,andtheyexchangeddetails,howpolitehewas,howhandsome.Otherscomplainedthathewasdistantandplain.

“Hewaskind,”saidEsa,“butIdon’tknowyet if I’dwant tomarryhim.Ihopewegetmorechancestotalkoverthenextfewdays.”

“Idon’tneedtoknowhimanymore,”saidBena,yawningwithoutbotheringtocoverhermouth.Theprincehadledherthroughonedanceandnotspokentoher again. “I thought princeswere supposed to bemore interesting than otherboys,buthewasasboringaswatered-downporridge.”

“Ithoughthewasnice,”saidLiana.Benaglaredather,andMiriwonderedifthefriendshipwouldsurvivetheirfirstdisagreement.

Knut served them breakfast in their bedchamber. Britta was feeling muchbetter,andshesatupandate.

“Tellmewhatyouthoughtoftheprince,”shesaidtoMiri.“Nice,” saidMiri. “At first Iwasawedbyhim; then I thoughthewasdull

andalittlerude.Buthewasjustnervous.Ilikehimprettywell.”Brittaleanedinandwhisperedsotheothergirlscouldnothear,“Didheask

you...?”Mirishookherheadandwhisperedback,“Buthesaidhelikedmebestofall

thegirlshedancedwith.”Sheshuthereyestighttohidefromthethoughtbeforeshecouldblush.

“Ofcoursehedid!”saidBritta.

“Ifhelikedmebest,”Miriwhispered,“doyouthinkthatmeans...?”Olanaentered then, letting thebedchamberdoor slambehindher,andMiri

wonderedwhattheycouldhavedonetoupsetheralreadythatmorning.“Thechiefdelegatewouldliketoaddressyou,”saidOlana.“Standproperly,

nevermindyourbeds.Ifyouhaven’tsmoothedyourblankets,it’stoolatenow.Headup,Gerti.Notsohigh,Katar.Youlooklikeasoldier.”

Sheopenedthedoortoadmitthechiefdelegate.Heglancedaroundtheroomwithout seeming to see the girls, though Miri thought his gaze paused for amomentonherface.Shecurledhertoesinherboots.

“PrinceSteffanbademegreetyouthismorningandconveythepleasurehetook in your company last night. He had high praise for this academy andcomplimentsforthequalityofyoungladiesonMountEskel.”

Some of the girls giggled.Miri felt frozen by the anticipation of what hewouldsaynext.

“However,”saidthechiefdelegate,andwiththatonewordMirifeltallherself-confidence drain from her like the cold feeling she sometimes got bystandinguptoofast.

“However, the prince regrets that hemust return toAsland today.Hewillrevisitsoontomakehischoice.”

Intheshockedsilence,Miricouldhearahorseneighalongwayoff.“But it could snow very soon,maybe next week or the next,” said Katar,

barelyaboveawhisper.“Thenyoucouldn’tgetbackupthepassuntilspring.”“Thentheprincewillreturninspring,”saidthechiefdelegate.He adjusted his collar, which appeared to be pinching his neck

uncomfortably, bowed, and took his leave.Only a handful of girls recollectedthemselvesenoughtocurtsyinreturn.Miriwasnotoneofthem.

Assoonasthedoorshut,conversationmoanedallovertheroom.Thesoundof it reminded Miri of one of the songs the musicians had played the nightbefore. It had been a sad song, and the instruments had creaked and waileddisappointment.

“Areyouallright?”askedBritta.Mirinodded,butherheadfelt lightandgiddy.Foraslimmoment,shehad

actuallybelievedthatshewouldleavethemountain,becomesomeonenew,seeanddogreat things.Nowherbarely realizeddreamsofbecoming theprincessemptiedlikedtippedjars,andshefeltasthoughshesatinthepuddle.

“I thoughthewasgoingtostaylonger,”saidBritta.“Iwassurehe’dmakehischoicebeforeleaving.”

Mirinoddedagain, toohumiliated tospeakorevenmeetBritta’seyes.Sheleanedagainsttheirbedchamberwindowandwatchedthemenandwomenwhohadaccompaniedtheprinceteardownthetents,saddleandharnessthehorses,packuptheirgoods,andstartdownthewindingroadawayfromtheacademy.

Theprince’scarriagewasneartheback,itscurtainsdown.Shekepthereyesonaswayinggoldtasselthatknockedagainstthecurtain.Thistime,shedidnotwave.

AshoutfromOlanabroughtsilencetotheroom.“Apparently,youfailedtopolishyourselvessufficientlythispastyear.”“Did he say that?” asked Frid. “Is that why he went home without

choosing?”“What else could thismean?” askedOlana.Her facewas blotchy red, and

Miriguessedshewasmortified thather studentshad failed tomeasureupandfrustratedthatshecouldnotreturnhome.“Thechiefdelegate leftsuppliesandfuelforthewinterandinstructedmetocontinuethisacademyuntiltheprince’sreturn.Youmuststudyharderandimproveyourselvesbynextspring.”

A collective groan went up. Miri felt as withered as a winter carrot justthinkingofbeinglockedupintheacademyagainthroughthecoldmonths.Lastnighthehadbeensokind.Whathadchanged?

Shethoughtofrunninghomeorchasingafter theprinceanddemandingananswer,butshejustslippedoutsidealone.

Some minutes later, Miri was scratching letters on a large stone whensomeone came jogging from the direction of the village. He slowedwhen heneared, andMiri foundherself stunned for the second time that daywhen shesaw that it was Peder. She was used to having the idea of Peder nestledconstantlyinsideallshedid,butsherealizednowthatsincehertalkwithSteffanallthoughtsofPederhadflittedaway.

Helookedaroundasifexpectingtoseemoreactivity.“Ithoughttheprincewould’vecomebynow.”

“Hedid.”Mirithrewarockshardasfarasshecould.Ithitanotherstoneandcrackedintomorepieces.“Cameandwent.”

“Oh.”Peder lookedathis feet, thenatMiri, thenathis feetagain.“Didhechooseyou?”

“Hedidn’tchooseanyone,”Mirisaidmoreharshlythanshemeantto.“Soundslikeyou’reupsetaboutthat.”“Well,heshouldn’tmakeusallliveinthisdraftybuildingpracticingcurtsies

andstupidPoiseandmakeusallbelievewecouldbeaprincess,thenjustcomeand leave again, as though we’re not worthy of him. As though he’sdisappointed.”

“So, that’s it?” said Peder, his voice getting louder. “You wanted him tochooseyou.”

MiriglaredatPeder.“Whatareyouyellingatmefor?Nowwehavetostayhereanotherwinterand try tobebetter,but I’ll fail again. I can’twork in thequarry,Ican’tbeaprincess,whatamIgoodenoughfor?”

“Well, if that’swhat youwant, I hope you get it,” said Peder. “I hope hecomesbackandcarriesyouofftobeaprincessandkeepsyouasfarawayfromMountEskelasyouwanttobe.”

Peder started to walk back toward the village, then after a few paces hetripped intoa jogand thena run.Miriwatchedhimgo,at first ready to shoutsomethingnastyathisback,thenlosingherangersoquicklythatshefeltchilledbyitsloss.Whyhadhecome,anyway?Toseeme?Miriwondered.

Wait,shewantedtoshout,buthesitated.Thedistanceswallowedallsignofhim,andsheturnedandkickedastonesohard,shecriedoutatthepaininhertoe.

Justthen,asifinresponsetoherowncry,sheheardsomeonewail.HerfirstthoughtwasthatOlanahadbrokenthetermsanddeliveredanother

palmlashing;butno,thesoundwaswrong.Ithadbeenstrangeandsad,likeananimaldying.Thoughshewasnonetooeagertojoinwhateverunhappinesswasboilinginsidetheacademy,shewascuriousandsocrepttowardthebedchamber

window.Miri had crossed half the distance when another wail unwound and then

stoppedshortwithacrash,asifsomeonehadthrownaceramicplateagainstthewall.Shestopped,herskintinglingwithprickles,thoughshecouldnotimaginewhatshehadtofear.

Ajoltofquarry-speechthrusteveryotherthoughtoutofherhead.Itwasthestrongestquarry-speechshehadeverheard,anditcarriedwithit thefeelingofEsa.Thememorywasatimewhenshe,Esa,andotherchildrenhadplayedWolfandRabbitinthevillagecenter.Mirihadbeentherabbitandrunasfastasshecouldfleearoundthecircle.Shecouldnotseethefaceofthewolf.

With sickening terror,Miri thought she understood. Esawas telling her torun.

n

ChapterTwenty

Well,thebanditmanHetoldhisfirstman

ClimbupandwhenyouarriveLeavenomountainman

Alive,no,leavenomanalive

nMirididnotwait to learnmore. IfEsa said to run, then shewould run.Pederwouldbejustminutesahead,andperhapsshecouldcatchhim.Therockypathshehad runonherentire life suddenly feltas treacherousassprinting throughmud,andshewishedwithallherbreaththatshecouldflyasthehawk,thoughshedidnotknowwhatshewasrunningfrom.

Shepassed thebend in theroadandhoped toseePeder justahead,but theroadstretched longbeforeherwithnoone insight.After leavingher,hemusthavekeptrunning.

Then she heard the someone behind her. At first she hoped that she washearingherownechoes,butno,therhythmofbootfallswasdifferent,faster.Shepeeredbackandsawamanshedidnotknow.Hewasgettingcloser.

She would have screamed for Peder if she could, but fear constricted herthroatandtheefforttofleeusedupallherbreath.Shetriedtofocusonmakingher feet spring over the rocks and her legs pump her forward, though frightbegan to gnaw at her hope. She knew she was caught even before the roughhandsreachedouttoseizeher.

Shekickedandscreamedandtriedtogetherteethintohishand,butshewassosmallandherattackersostrong.Hecarriedherbacktotheacademywrithingunderhisarmanddumpedheronthefloorofthebedchamber.

“I found this one outside,” said her attacker, his breath wheezing in histhroat.“Gavemequitearun,thelittlerodent.”

Thegirls saton the floor.Knutwas leaningagainst awall andholdinghisarmas though itmight bebroken above thewrist.The roomwas crowdedby

fifteenmeninsheepskinandgoatskin,leatherbootstiedwithlongcordsuptheirthighs, and fur-lined caps. Some had golden loops in their ears, some carriedcudgelsandstaves.Theyallhaduntidybeardsandfacesdirtierthananunsweptfloor.

“Bandits,”Miri saidaloud tomakeherselfbelieve it.After somanyyears,banditshadreturnedtoMountEskel.

Olanacrouchedinacorner,andherhandsshookastheyflutteredaboutherneck.ThatonedetailmadeMiri’sheartbeatasifitwouldcomeloose.IfOlanawasscared,thenthesituationwasverybadindeed.

The bandit nearest to Olana caught her throat in his hand and shoved heragainstthewall.

“Yousaidtheywereallherebefore.”Hisvoicewaslowandraw,asthoughhehadbattledachestcoughformonthsonend.“Countthemagain,thistimeasthough your life depended on it, because, in fact, it does. Is anyone elsemissing?”

Olanascannedtheroom,hereyesscarcelyblinking.Sheshookherhead.Themansmiledwithdirtyteeth.

“Ibelieveyouthistime,”hesaid.“Howfortunateforyou.”Helethergoandturnedtofacetherestofthem.Hewaslargerthanmostof

theotherbandits,thoughMirinotedthatnonelookedaslargeasherfather,Os,ormostMountEskelmen.Nowonderthebanditsavoidedattackingthevillagedirectly.

“Hello, children,” he said. “If you need to address me, you may call meDan.”

“Hisma named him after the first king himself,” said another, who had athick,jaggedscarfromonesideofhismouthuptohisear.“Hopedhe’dgrowupintoapropernobleman.”Severalofthemenlaughed.

“Dansuitsmefine,”hesaidamiably.“BetterthanDogface.”The men laughed louder, and the scarred one called Dogface spat on the

floor.“Looks like we’ve some talking to do.” Dan sat on his heels, rested his

forearms on his thighs, and looked at the girls with a smile thatmadeMiri’s

stomachfeelsour.Hisroughvoicebecamesingsong,asthoughheweretellingabedtimestorytosmallchildren.

“Wejumpedatravelingmanofbusinessafewweeksagoandgentlypressedhimforanythingmorevaluablethanhislife.Theinformationhehadabouttheprince’svisit toMountEskelwasalmostworth lettinghimgo.”DansmiledatDogfaceandshookhisheadasthoughsharingsomeprivatejoke.“We’vebeenwatchingthisbuildingforafewdaysnow,buttheprincehadsomanysoldiersguardinghisprecioushide,wedidn’thaveachancetopouncehim.Nomatter.Whennoyoung ladyaccompaniedhimhome, I toldmy lieutenanthere, ‘Howfortunate. What a gentleman that prince is to leave behind a nicety for ourplucking!’ And so I come to the matter at hand. Tell me, which one of youbirdiesisthefuturebride?”

His gaze dragged the room and remindedMiri of the time she had seen awolfeyeingherrabbits.

“Speakup!”Hisexpressionraged,thenjustasquicklyheresumedhismock-friendlydemeanor.“Wemaylookrough,butwe’renotignorant.Weknowtheprincewasheretochooseabride,andoncehe’schosenandthebetrothalsealed,itcannotbeundone.Aprincess-to-bewillprovideaheftyransom.”

“Theprinceleftwithoutchoosing,”saidKatar,speakingfirst.“Hesaidhe’dbeback.”

DanstalkedacrosstheroomtoKatar.“That’sanicelittlestory.”Heclutchedhercurlyhairinhisfistandpulledhertoherfeet.“Nowtellmewhosheis.”

“Ah,ah,Idon’tknow,Imean,noone,”saidKatar,tearsrisinginhereyes.“Hedidn’tchooseanyone.”

Danletherfalltotheground.ItoccurredtoMirithatitwastheresponsibilityof adults tomake sure everyone elsewas all right.ButOlana just stood therelookingat theground,her lips tightwithfear,andKnutbentoverhisarm,hiseyesclosed.

“There’snosenseprotecting theprincess,”saidDan.“I’llget itoutofyoueventually.”Hisvoicesweetenedas thoughhespoke toababy.“All Iwant isonelittlebittygirl,andtherestofyoucangohometoyourfamilies.That’snottoomuchtoask,isit?”

It seemed futile to assert again that the prince had not chosen, so no oneanswered.

Withoutwarning,Dan grabbedGerti and pulled her upright. The one theycalled Dogface wrapped her wrists with rope, threw the rope over a ceilingbeam,andpulledsothatGertihungbyherwrists.Shecriedout,anoiselikeawoundedgoatkid.

Miristood.“Whyareyouhurtingher?Shedidn’tdoanything.”MirididnotseeDanhither,shejustfeltherselffly.Whenhertiltingvision

straightened, she found herself on the floor, her head against the wall. Painbatteredbothsidesofherhead.ShewasawarethatBrittawasholdingherhand,butthetouchgavelittlecomfort.Thepaintightened,andshewantedtovomit,butshesatverystill,staredatalinderfloorstone,andbreathed.

“I’mnotplayinghere,”Danwassaying.“AndyouseethatI’mnotamanofpatience.Iwanttoknowwhowillbetheprincess,andIwanttoknowitbeforeIcounttotwenty,oreachofyouwillhaveyourturnfeelingthebackofmyhand.”

Dogfacetuggedagainontherope,pullingGertihigher.Shewhimpered.MiriliftedherheadtolookatGertibutquicklylookeddownagainwhenDanturnedher way. She wanted to make this stop, but her head throbbed, and the painseemedtoradiateeverywhere.Herteethbegantochatterandherlegsfeltloose,likehalf-emptystrawmattresses.Shehadneverexperiencedanysensationlikethis.Realfear.Shewashelplessunderitsweight.

MiriwasvaguelyawareofDan’svoicecounting,“Twelve,thirteen,”ahardvoice, and the soundof thosenumberspulsed inher headache.Sheknew thatsomethingbadwouldhappenwhenhestoppedcounting,butshedidnotbelieveshecoulddoanythingtopreventit.

ThenFridstoodupslowly,crossingherarms,herfeetwideapartasifdaringanyone to knock her down. Miri expected Frid to challenge Dan to fight orthreatenhimorevencursehim,but insteadshe lookedhimstraight in theeyeandsaidwhatMirileastexpected.

“It’sme.”Danstoppedcounting.“Hepickedyou?”Frid nodded. “He tookme aside afterwe danced.He askedme not to tell

anyone,soIdidn’tspeakupearlier,butit’strue.I’mgoingtobetheprincess.”Frid’s lower lip twitchedandherstarewas toobold.Miriguessed that this

wasthefirsttimeFridhadeverlied.“Now then, that wasn’t so hard.” He squinted at Frid andmade a face as

thoughhesuckedonsomethingsour.“There’snoaccountingfortaste,though,isthere?”

Someofthemenlaughed.Fridblinkedalittlelongerthannormal,theonlyindicationMiricouldseethathiscommenthurther.

Miri did not knowwhatwould have happened if Frid had not spoken up;perhapsDanwouldhavebeatenthemall,perhapshewouldhavekilledGertiasanexample.Hebelievedthattheprincehadchosenabrideandwouldnotceasehishuntuntilhehaddiscoveredher.

Clearly,Frid supposedDanwould takeher awayand let theothergirlsgofree,thatitwasbettertosacrificeherselfthanriskeveryone.Itmightbeso,butMiri found herself remembering an account she had read in one of Olana’sbooks.Decadesbefore,banditshadsetuponaking’stravelingpartyinawood.Theyhad taken the king for ransomand left hismen andhorses tied to trees.Beforeothertravelerscameuponthem,overhalfofthepartydiedofthirst.

MiriwonderedifDantrulywouldlettheothergirlsgoandrisktheirfamilieshuntingdownthebanditsorifwouldheleavethemtiedupintheacademytodiefromthecoldorthirst,orevenhurrydeath’sjob.

Perhapshewouldreleasethem;perhapsavillagethreehoursawayposednothreat. Even if he did, Miri quaked to imagine what kinds of things wouldhappentoFridifshewentalone.ButwhatiftheycouldkeepDanguessing,ifhecouldnotbecertainwhowastheprincess?

Keeping her eyes on Frid for courage,Miri pulled herself to her feet. Theacheinherheadmadeherwobble,andsheleanedonthewallforsupport.

“Youmustbelying,”saidMiri.“Theprincetoldmeattheballthathewouldmarryme.Hesaidhe’dannounceitinthespring.”

Fridclenchedherjaw.“No,hetoldmeI’dbetheprincess.”MiricouldseethatFridwaswillingtobethemartyr,butMiriwouldnotlet

her.“That’simpossible,becausehetoldmethesamething.”

Dangrowled.“I’mheatinguptowhiptheliar,sowhichoneofyouisit?”FridandMiripointedateachother.“Sheis,”theysaidatonce.Miritriedtocatcheyeswiththeothergirlsandprodthemtoactwithalook.

BrittawasstaringatMiri,hermouthslightlyagape,thenunderstandingresolvedherfeatures.Shestood.

“Idon’tbelieveeitherofyou,”shesaidinatinyvoice.“Hechoseme.”“Howdareyou?”saidKatar.Shewasfightingasmile,asthoughsheactually

enjoyeditall.“Idon’tthinkaprincewouldlie,andhetoldmehechoseme.”That unleashed every voice in the room, and girls leapt to their feet, each

shoutingthatshewastheprincess.Someofthegirlspushedeachother,feigninganger.EvenGertikickedherfeetandshouted,“Letmedown!Theprincewillbefuriousifhehearshowyoutreatedhisfuturebride!”

Dogface let go of Gerti’s rope, and she slumped to the floor. Dan lookedaroundtheroom,hisfacebewildered.

“Enough!”he shouted.Thegirlsquietedexcept foronebelated“Me,me!”fromEsa,whoblushed.

Danrubbedhisbeard.“Eitherthey’relyingorthatprincetookpleasurefromsweet-talkingall thegirls just todisappoint them later.Exceptone.Butwhichone?Anyguesses?”

Hismenpointedtooneoranotherofthegirlsinhalfheartedspeculation.“Sincewedon’tknow,we’llhavetotakethemall,won’twe?We’llresthere

tonightandheadoutinthemorning.”Danhuddledinthecorneroftheroomandconversedwith his lieutenant, a short, hairyman namedOnor.Miri could nothear thewords,but thesoundof their talkprickedherwithdread.Shewishedshecouldfindareasontolaugh.

“Apalm lashingandacloset suddenlydon’t seemsobad,” shewhispered.Esachuckledwithoutanymerriment.Abandithushedthem.

In silence, the girls watched the afternoon fade. The hearth fire burned ashallowwarmth, itsuneven light filling theroomwithmovingshadows.BrittarestedherheadonMiri’slap.FridandEsawrappedKnut’sbrokenarmtighttohisbodytokeepitstill.Hefellasleep,hisfacetenseandlined,asthoughitwereonlywithgreateffortthathecouldsleepthroughthepain.

Miri’sownheadhadneverceasedpounding,andshedidnotthinkshecouldrest.Butwhenshelaydownandclosedhereyes,shefoundshewantednothingmorethantoforgetwhereshewas,andherbodylether.

n

ChapterTwenty-three

Don’tlookdown,don’tlookdownInmidairyoudrown,drown

nMiri!”Herpasprangforward.Ragedistortedhisface,andMiritrembledjusttoseeit.Abanditovertookhim,andPa’smalletswungtwice—oncetopoundthebandit’sclubtotheground,oncetoknockthebanditdown.PahurdledhimandrushedtowardDan,hismalletraised.

“I’llkillher!”saidDan,hishoarsevoicestrainingtoyell.HishandsgrippedMiri’sneck.“I’llsnapherintwo,mountainman.”

Pastopped.Miricouldseehimtightenhisholdonthemalletshaft, looktoMiri, lookatDan,wantingnothingmorethantobeatthebandit intothesnow.Hischestheavedwithhisbreath,andheloweredhismalletslowly,asthoughtheactionpainedhimasmuchascuttingoffhisownhand.HiseyeswereonMiri,andhisexpressionsaidhisheartwasbreakingforthesecondtime.

Miri’sownheartfeltsore,likeaburntfingertip.Shesawnowthathewoulddowhatever she needed—fight to dying, or lower hismallet, or even believePeder’sstrangetaleofquarry-speechspokenmilesaway.Hehadrunthroughasnowstorminthemiddleofthenighttosavehislittlegirl.

ShekickedbackwardatDanandwrithedtogetfree.Itwaslikepunchingastone.Shehunglimpfromhishandsandstaredatherpa.

Everyone was quiet now. The frenzied running and brief fighting hadstoppedasquicklyasithadbegun.MiriandDanstoodinfrontoftheacademysteps.Hishot,scratchyhandscircledherthroat,rubbingbackandforthasifherehearsedtwistingherneck.Beforeherstoodthewallofvillagers.

Shewascomfortedtoseethatmanyoftheacademygirlshadmadeitbehindthe villagers, and they hugged one another and cried. The villagers hadoverwhelmedfourbandits—three lay in thesnow,aquarryman’sbootoneachoftheirbacks,andafourthsquirmedasFrid’soldestbrotherheldanironlever

acrosshisneck.Miriwonderedifanyofthebanditswerethinkingofamountainthatcouldwarnitspeopleatthetouchofanoutsider’sboot.

Butthevillagersheldonlyfourbandits,andtheremainingelevenhadseizedsome of the fleeing academy girls.Miri spotted Esa, Gerti, Katar, Britta, andFrid among the captive.Miri shivered.Therewasnowindowshe could crawlthroughnow.

The cold soaked further and further inside her likemold creeping throughbread,andtheminuteofsilenttensionseemedhours.WhenOsspoke,thesoundofhisvoiceclosedthespace,makingtheoutsidenightfeellikeacrowdedroom.

“We have four of yourmen, you have nine of our daughters.Wemake anice, easy trade: you go on your way, and no one’s blood melts the snowtonight.”

Danlaughed.“Hardlyafairtrade,quarryman.Howaboutthis—youkeepthefourmen,giveusbacktheothergirls,andwesendthemhomesafeandsoundoncetheprincepays.”

There was a murmur of anger. Some of the villagers cursed at Dan andsqueezed the shaftsof theirweapons.Osgrowled,hisvoice like themountainrumbling.

“Notoneofourdaughters leavesoursight,and ifevenone ishurt, Imakecertainnoneofyou leave thismountainwithany limbsattached.”Os’sglanceflicked to his daughterGerti in the clutches of the one-eyed bandit.WhenhiseyesreturnedtoDan,hisexpressionsaidhewouldenjoythechancetotearoffafewlimbs.“Let themcome tousnowandwe’ll releaseyour fourmenand letyou all go alive and running. That’s a good offer. Don’t dismiss it for yourpride.”

Danspatintothesnow.“IcamehereforsomeroyalskintoransomandI’mnotleavingwithout—”

“You heard our terms,” said Os. “Why don’t you let what I’ve said rollaroundinyourheadbeforeyoudecidetodietonight.”

Dandidnotanswerimmediately,andMiriwonderedifOswouldhavemoresuccessusingtheprinciplesofDiplomacy.

The snow kept falling between them, soft and light, the clumps of flakes

sometimesrisingandspinningonagust.ToMiri,thesnowfallwasstrangeandgentle.Everythingelse thatnightwashardanddangerous, likeslabsof fallingice and windstorms that can blow people off cliffs. The weather did notrecognizethatatanymomentDancouldcrackherneckasifshewerearabbitfattened for the stew. Down the flakes came, slow and sweet as petals in abreeze.

Dan spat again,marking a small hole in the snow.The action said he hadmadeadecision.“Iwantaprizeformytrouble,andIwillhaveitorthisgirlisfirsttogo.I’mnotjesting.”Hisroughskinscratchedherneck.

“Neither are we,” said Miri’s pa, his look set on Dan, rigid as stone, asthoughhewerecarvedfromthemountainitself.

“Come on, Dan.” The bandit holding Katar spoke quietly enough that hisvoicewouldnotcarrytothevillagers.“Wehadagoodrestandateourfill.Wecouldjustbedonewithit.”

“Shutup,you idiot!”saidDan,andMirigaggedashisholdconstricted.“Itoldyou thatyouhave to thinkbigger.Wedon’thavewhatwecame for, andwe’renotleavingwithoutaprincesstoransom.”

“I am,” said the bandit holding Gerti. He pushed her to the ground andbackedaway,hisoneeyedartingas if tryingtokeepawatchoneverythingatonce.“Something’snotrightonthismountain.Itknewthatwewerehere,toldthevillagers,justlikethegirlssaid.Nextthing,themountainwillburyusaliveandnoonewill cry,or thosemenwill lopoffmyarms. I lost an eye foryouonce,Dan,andI’mnotlosingmyarms,too.”

GertirantoOsandgrippedhisleg.Miricouldseethebigmanshudderwithrelief.

“You’retalkinglikeafool,”saidDan.Spitflewfromhismouthashespoke.“Iorderyoutostay.”

Theone-eyedbanditlookedoverthemenandwomenwithleversandmalletsclutchedinbothhands,lookedupintothesnowstorm,shuddered,andturnedtoleave.Severalotherspushedawaytheirhostagesandfollowedhim.

“Dangerousplace,”onemuttered.Fridshoveddownthetwobanditswhohadbeenholdingher.Theyseemed

ready to fightback,butsheheldupher fistsandgave themsuchaglareas tohopetheywould.Theydustedthesnowfromtheirkneesandcaughtupwiththeotherdeserters,lookingbackastheywentasifafraidthemountainitselfwouldfollow.

“Getbackhere!”shoutedDan.“Youleavenowandyouarenopartof thisband!”

Thesnowthickened,andinmomentsthedepartingbanditshaddisappearedbehind thewhite screen.That seemed tomakeothersnervous, and threemoredroppedtheirhostagesandran.NowonlyOnorandDogfacestoodbesideDan.

“Thisonecouldbetheprincess,”saidOnor,shakingEsa.“I’mnotshovingagirlworthonehundredhorsesintothesnow.”

Dogfaceheldhisoneweapon,adagger,toBritta’schestandidlyflickeditstip againsther shirt.A strandof cloth ripped.Miri struggledagain, andDan’sholdtightened.Ifonlyshehadaweapon.Snowflakesstucktohereyelashesandtearsoffrustrationblurredhervisionsothatshecouldnotmakeoutherfather’sface.

MiriknewDanwouldneverlethergo,andhewouldwringherneckbeforeany mallet could reach him. Os was bargaining again, trying to make theremaining bandits see the futility of taking just three girls, but Miri felt nohesitationinhercaptor’shands.

Somewhere far above the snowfall, dawn appeared. The world graduallylightened,liftingtheroseandpeachhuesfromtheair,makingeverythingaclearsilver.Shebegantoseethevillagersmoreplainly,theearlylightpickingoutthelinesunder their eyesandaround theirmouths, and she feltherheart swell solarge that it almost hurt. Therewas Peder, his hands redwith cold, no doubthavinglefttooquicklytofindhisgloves.TherewasDoter’sroundface,Miri’spa as hard and square as a foundation stone, Frid’s six brothers, and her mabiggerthananyofthem.Herfamily,herplaymates,herprotectorsandneighborsandfriends—thosepeoplewereherworld.

Sherealizedwithsuddenclaritythatshedidnotwanttolivefarawayfromthe village where Mount Eskel’s shadow fell like a comforting arm. Themountain was home—the linder dust, the rhythm of the quarry, the chain of

mountains, thepeoplesheknewaswellas thefeelofherownskin.Andnow,lookingat themforperhapsthelast time,shethoughtshelovedthemsomuchthatherchestwouldburstbeforethebandithadtimetokillherdead.

Shehadtochancesomething,andsoon.Togiveherselfcourage,sheputherhandinherskirtpocketandtouchedthelinderhawk.Untilthatmoment,shehadforgottenitwasthere.

“I don’t think we’ll rest easy in this house anymore,” Dan was saying.“Guesswe’dbettertakeourloothereandgo.”Hestartedtobackawayfromthevillagersandtowardtheroadthatleddownthemountain.

“Do you think we’ll let you leave with those girls?” said Os. “We knowthey’velittlechanceofsurvivalinyourhands.”

“That’s a chanceyou’ll have to take,” saidDan. “Because ifyouattackusnow,Iguaranteetheirsurvivalprospectsaremuch,muchworse.”

The villagers hefted their weapons and shifted their stance, but noneadvanced.

Dankeptwalkingbackward,andOnorandDogfacefollowed.Heseemedtobetryingtofindtheroadbyfeel,butthesnowwasstackeddeep.

Miri knew the mountain. Even in the snowstorm she could see he wasveering too far tohis left.Thecliff edgewasgettingcloser. If only she couldprodhimcloserstill.Asquietasanexhale,shesangtoherself,“Nowolffaltersbeforethebite.Sostrike.Nohawkwaversbeforethedive.Juststrike.”

“Everyonestaystill,”saidDan.“We’llbegonesoon,andyoulookforyourgirlscomespringthaw.They’llbejustfine.”

ShelookedtoherrightandsawterrorfrozenonBritta’sandEsa’sfaceslikeiceonawindowpane.Toherleft,thesnowobscuredthecliff’sedge.Sheneededhelptogethimthere.

Miri knew her pa loved her, knew that nowwith a peace like themildestsummer evening. She knew hewould throw himself off themountain to saveher.But,asDotersaid,hewasahousewithshuttersclosed.Shecouldnottrustthathewouldunderstandherquarry-speechplea.

Pederhadheardhercallfrommilesaway.Hewouldunderstand.Miri struggled again, but this time with no hope of getting free. She just

wantedamomentofcontactwith theground,achancetodigherfoot into thesnowandfeelstone.Thetouchcame,andshegrippedthehawkinherpocket,hopingthatbitoflindercouldhelpaswell.Withallthewillinsideherandquietastheflakesfalling,shesangoutinquarry-speech.

Thememory she chosewasPeder falling into anunseen ice-melt hole anddisappearingfromview.Shedidnothavetowonderlongifheunderstood.

“Don’tthinkwewon’tfollowyou,”saidPeder.Snowflakeslaythickinhistawnycurls,silvercrowninggold.“We’llhoundyouasfarastheseaifwehaveto.”

Someof theadults frownedathisoutburst,butPederdidnot takehiseyesfromMiri andDan. He prodded Jans andAlmond, Bena’s older brother, andtheyfollowedhimawayfromthelineofvillagerstotheleftofthethreebandits.MirifeltDanshift.

“Not so close, little kitten,” said Dan. “I’m a thief and a murderer,remember?Youcan’ttrustmenottokillheroutofspite.”

Pederandtheothersslowed,buttheykeptadvancingtoDan’sright,forcinghimtochangehispathjustalittle.Mirithoughtitwasenough.Sheconcentratedon keeping her body relaxed, not stiffening in anticipation, giving Dan noindicationofwhatshewasabouttotry.

Don’t hesitate. Just swing.Miri grabbed the linder hawk from her pocket,held it like a dagger, and stabbed Dan’s wrist with the sharpened tip of anoutstretchedwing.

Danholleredandletgo.Miridroppedtotheground,rolledawayfromhim,andcrawledthroughthesnow.Theshockofpainlastedonlyamoment,andheyelledandleapedafterher.

Buttherewastheedge.Mirididnothavetimetobecareful.Hopingshehadjudgedherpositioncorrectly,sherolledoverthecliffandreachedfortherockyshelfwheresheandKatarhadtalkedthedayoftheexam.

She hit earth, but the relief filling her chestwas stopped by the sickeningfeeling of her feet sliding off the ledge. Her hands scrambled for a hold andfoundthehangingrootsofacliff tree.ShelookeduptoseeDanstepover theedge,hisfacewidewithsurprisetofindnogroundbeneathhisfeet.Hefell.

Miri’sbodyshookwithahardyank.Danhadonehandonthecliff,anotheronherankle.

Thewoodcreakedinherhands.Therootslidfromitsholdintheledgelikeasnake throughwater, then jerked to a stop.Below,Dan clenched her leg, andfartherdown,thesnowkeptfalling,falling,sofarthatshecouldnotseeaflakecome to rest at the bottom. The falling snow made the cliff seem to run onforever,likeariverstretchingouttothefarawaysea.

Herhandswereonfire,herlegwasnumb.Shetriedtokickhimoffbutcouldnotbudgehisweight.Dantriedtoclimbthecliffwallwithonehand,usingherleg to pull himself up.Miri screamed from the pain of holdingon.Her handswereslipping,andshefeltherselfnearlyfallingwiththesnow.

Then something struck Dan on the forehead. He looked up, but his eyesseemedblind,asifhisvisionwerelosttryingtofollowasnowflake.Hisholdonthecliffslipped,hisweightlessened,andthen,unexpectedly,Miriwaswatchinghim get smaller and smaller. His arms and legs splayed as though he weremakingasnowangelinmidair.Thewindblewthefallingsnowintocirclesandspirals, washing out everything below, so that Miri did not see him hit theground.

Shelookedup.Herpawasleaningoverthecliffedge,themalletgonefromhishand.

n

ChapterTwenty-four

Nightiscalling,Away,comeaway!EmptyyourmindoftroublesanddreamsEmptyyourheartofalldaylightthingsNightiscalling,Forget!Buttheday

Willnotwait,notlongnow,won’tdelay

nMiriwas only hazily aware ofwhat happened afterDan fell. Shemanaged tokeephergripontherootuntilsomeonepulledherontofirm,snowyground.Foramoment she thought Peder was near, and she smelled the dry sweetness ofDoter’s clothes soap. Then she disappeared into her father’s huge, warmembrace.

Shedidnotletgoofherpaforhours,watchingfromhisarmsasOnorandDogface released Britta and Esa and with the other four bandits fled theacademy. Twenty stout quarrymen followed briefly tomake certain they keptgoing. Esa was with Peder and their parents, their ma attacking her withbreathlesskisses.Britta’s relativespattedherback.LianaapproachedMiriandwhispered in her ear, “I should’ve voted for you for academy princess,” andwhenBenacaughtMiri’seye,theoldergirldidnotglare.

Afewmenstoodguardaroundtheacademyincaseanybanditshadthegalltoreturn,andtheresttookshelterinsidefromthesnow.

MirirememberedKnutandOlana,andtheywerereleasedfromtheirlockedcloset,coldandunderfed.Frid’smatookcareofKnut’sbrokenarm,andOlanastoodbyasifanxioustohelpandkeptrepeating,“Thankyou,yes,thankyou.”

Itwasfullmorning,buttheyhadbeenupallnight,sotheystokedthefireinthebedchamberandlaydowntorestuntilafternoon.Familiespiledtogetheronone pallet, made pillows of one another’s chests and legs, and held on forwarmth and just for joy that everyone was all right.Miri snuggled under thescoopofherpa’sarm,hisheatspreadingoverherlikethethickestblanket.ShepulledBrittatoherotherside,andtheysleptwiththeirarmsentwined.

Afterallwokeandfelttheirstomachsgrumble,afewwomenconductedaninventoryofthefoodsupplyandreturnedtoreportthatnoonewouldbelivingat the academy thatwinter. The bandits had eaten and let rot a village year’sworthofmeatinjustafewdays.Theremainingfoodwasenoughforonegroupmealofflatbreadandporridgewithafewstripsofmeattofry.

It was eerie to step out of the academy that afternoon and into blazingsunshine.Heapsofsnowlayattheirfeet,smoothedbyabreezeand,underthatsun,morebrilliantthanpolishedlinder.Miriwrappedherarmsaroundherchestandobservedhow the snowhadkept falling fordays, then stoppedat just therighttime.Whenshethoughtaboutitwithherheadonly,shedidnotbelievethatthemountaincouldreallyhearher,butherheartwishedittobeso.Justincase,shewhispered,“Thankyou,”andblewasubtlekiss to thatwhitepeakagainstthesunnybluesky.

Thoughthetrekwasprecariousandslowgoingthroughthedeepsnow,themoodwasasmerryasaholiday.ThefirsttimeMirislippedintoapitandmetsnow up to her elbows, her father lifted her onto his shoulders. At such amoment,shedecidedthatshedidnotmindbeingsosmall.Shelookedbackandspotted the tip of an academy chimney before it disappeared, and wonderedwhentheywouldreturn.Butshedidnotworrymuchaboutit.Herthoughtswerefillingwiththelushexpectationsofaquarryfilledwithsnow,allowingeveryonedaysoffreetime,ofMardaandreadinglessons,ofwinterathomewithplentyoffuelandplentyoffood.

Upahead,sheheardOlanaandDotertalking.“ButwhatwillIdoforweeksandweeks?”askedOlana.“Don’tworry,mydear,”saidDoter,whohadheardreportsofthetutorfrom

herdaughter.“We’llputyoutowork.”Olana stayed with Esa’s family that winter, a fact that earned Esa many

sympatheticshakesoftheheadandafewsmuggrins.ButitwasnotlongbeforeOlanaprovedshecouldbeusefulskinningrabbitsandwasdispatchedtomanyhousestoperformtheunpleasanttask.KnutstayedwithGerti’sfamilyandanynight couldbeheard laughingheartilywithOs,who took to theall-workmanlikealostbrother.

Miri insistedBritta staywithher,andamong the threegirls thehouseworkwasdonebeforenoon,leavingplentyoftimetohelpMardawithherstudies.Afew older girls started to drift in whenever Miri was teaching, then three ofFrid’sbrothers,andoneofGerti’slittlesistersfollowed,untilMiri’shousewasfull toburstingeveryafternoon.SometimesPeder came too.Things feltoddlyuneasybetweenthem,askew,expectant.Shewaitedforhimtospeakfirst,andhedidnot.

The night afterGerti’s sister read her first page,Miri toldMarda, “This iswhatIwant.I’vebeenallmuddledandstirredupbytheprincessstuff,butnowIknow.We’llneedabiggerbuildingsowecaninvitealltheboystocomelearnto read.Andwe need real books, and clay tablets like the academy has.Andmaybewecouldsellthelinderfromtheacademyfloorsothequarrycouldspareallthemenandwomenforadayortwoaweekandtheentirevillagecanlearn!”

Marda shook her head. “You’d teach the goats their letters if they’d standstillforit.”

Oneafternoonwhileboilingthelaundry,MiriproposedtheideaofavillageacademytoBritta,Esa,andFrid.

“I’m tired of books and letters and such,” said Frid. “Butmy brothers arecurioustolearnreadingatleast,thoughtheysaidtheydidn’tseemuchvalueintheothersubjectswestudied.”

“YourbrotherLewsworetomethathewasdyingtostudyPoise,”saidMiri,tryingnottosmile.

“Yes,he’sgotafinecurtsy,”answeredFridwithanequallystraightface.“Well, I feel like I could keep learning forever.” Esa pulled one of her

mother’ssmocksoutofthepotwithastick.“I’dlikemymatobeabletojoinour village academy, too. I used to think she was the smartest person in theworld, and I don’t like knowingmore than she does, about theworld beyondMountEskelanyway.”

“Ifwe’regoingtobeteachers,thenwe’dbetterlearnallwecan,”saidMiri.Olana was anxious to be spared village chores and teach again, so the

academygirlsagreedtopackthemselvesintothesmallchapelmostafternoons,grantedtheycouldbringMardaandanyothersisterswhosodesiredaswellas

pickthesubjectstaught.NomorePoiseandConversation—insteadtheydelugedherwithquestions.Olanaseemedtoknowwhenshewasbeaten.

Miriwanted to learnmoreaboutMathematics tohelpwith trading,Liana’sinterests tendedtowardetiquetteatcourt,andEsawascuriousabout thesocialclassesbeyondthemountain.

When Katar inquired about a princess’s daily duties, Olana detailed theresponsibilitiesofthecurrentqueenofDanland—overseeingtheadministrationof the palace and servants, paying callswith delegates and courtiers, planningcelebrations, maintaining friendly relations with the merchants and traders ofneighboringkingdoms,adayaslongasanyquarrier’s.

That afternoon when class was over, many of the original academy girlsremainedinthechapel.Itseemedtheyallhadthesamequestionspinninginside.

“Doyouwanttobetheprincess?”EsaaskedFrid.“No.Ilikeworkinginthequarry.”“SometimesIwantto,”saidEsa.“Iusedtowantitmore,andtheprincewas

nice enough.But things are getting better here, and I don’twant to leavemyfamilyormakethemleavethemountain.”

Gertiwassittingonthefloor,herarmsaroundherknees.“YouknowOlana’sbookoftales?There’sastoryinitaboutagirlwhomeetsaprinceandfallsinlovewithhimonthespot,andallherdreamscometruewhenhepullsherontohishorseandtheyrideofftothepalace.I thoughtwhenImethimitmightbelike that.” Gerti shrugged. “Steffan was pretty nice, I guess, but . . .” Sheshruggedagain.

“Iwantto,”saidLiana.“Iwanttowearballgownsandliveinapalace.”Mirifrowned.Lianadidlookas lovelyasMiri imaginedaprincessshould,

butshethoughtSteffandeservedbetter.Severalothergirlsadmittedproudlyorshylythatthey,too,stillhopedtobe

theprincess.Tonnahadevenbeguntowearherhairtwistedupallthetime.“Didn’tyouhearOlana?”saidBena,apparentlyangry thatLianadisagreed

withheryet again. “Itwon’tbeone longball. It’ll beboringwork, longdaystalking topeopleyoudon’tcareabout,andmarried toadullboywitha fancytitle. I can’t believe after all our lessons in History, knowing about all the

assassinationsandpoliticalplotsandwarsandbarrenqueens,thatanyonewouldwanttobeaprincess.”

“Well,Ido,”saidLiana.“Myreignwouldbedifferent.Itwouldbefun.”Katar lookedatMirifor thebriefestmomentbutdidnotvoiceheropinion.

Miri knewKatardidnot care about theworkor thegowns, lovingSteffan, ormissinghome.Shesimplywantedtobechosenandgiventhechancetoleave.

“Doyouwantto,Miri?”askedBritta.Miriblewouther lips.Therewasnohearthin thechapel,andshewatched

herbreathturnwhiteagainstthecoldair.Shewantedtoformavillageacademyandfeelathomeonthemountain,shewantedtobewithherpaandMarda,andshethoughtshewantedtobewithPeder.Ifthatwaswhathewanted.Sheknewthosethings,yetshecouldnotletgooftheideaofbeingaprincess,notafterallthehopingandwondering.Soshesaid,“Itseemsstrangetostillthinkaboutthis,after the bandits and everything. It seems like theworld has changed andweshouldn’tstillbetalkingaboutthingslikemarryingaprince.”

“Whetherwewanttoornot,”saidEsa,“ifhechoosesus,wouldwebeabletorefuse?”Aftermonthsofbowingtotheirdesires,Olanaduginherheelsandinsistedonreviewingsomeprincesssubjects.“Mypurposeistoreadyyoufortheprince’snextvisit,andattheveryleastwemustrehearseourcurtsiesanddances.”

“TutorOlana,”saidMiri,“itdoesn’tseemveryeffectivetokeepdancingbyourselves. Some of the village boysmight bewilling to learn the dances andpracticewithus.”

Sowhenspringholidayagainlit themountainwithbonfiresandmusic, thevillageenjoyed its firstball.Miriworeherchapel skirt andherhair looseandsmiledatPederwhenthedrumsandyipperbeganplaying.Thatnighthewasnotthedistant,uncertainboywhosometimespassedbywithoutaword—thatnighthewasPeder,herbestfriend.Heaskedherforthefirstdance.

Thelowlanderdancesdidnotseparatepartnerswitharibbon,andMirifoundherselfholdingPeder’shandforthefirsttimesincetheyweretinychildren.Hepressedhisfingersagainstherlowerbackandledherthroughapromenade,andtheyconversedsoeasilythatMirilaughedtorememberherawkwardexchanges

withSteffan.The talking hushed when they moved through the positions of “Lady of

Water,” a short dance that required partners to face each other, their palmspressedtogether, theirfacesjustabreathapart.Pederswallowedandlookedathisfeetandoverherhead.Butmidwaythroughthedance,herelaxedandmethereyes.

Miri’s heart buzzed. She wished she could say something just right. Thefutureloomedbeforeher,andshefeltasthoughtheprincestoodbetweenthem,keepingthemonestepapart.

“Whatareyouthinking?”askedPeder.“I was thinking of the prince, when he comes back . . . ,” she said, then

wishedshehadnot.Peder’ssmilewasgone.“Are you angry?” Miri whispered, and he shrugged. When the drum and

yipperstoppedplaying,Pederwalkedaway.“Hethinksyouwanttomarrytheprince,”saidBrittaatherside.“Iknow,”saidMiri.Sheinstinctivelyputherhandinherpocket,butshehad

lostthelinderhawkdownthecliff.Thematteroftheprincessstillfeltunsettledinsideher,asiltystreambedthat

shiftsunderfoot.ShedidnotunderstandwhySteffanhadleft,buthehadlikedherbest.Hehadsaidso.IfhereturnedandaskedhertogowithhimtoAsland,tobeaprincess,togiveherfamilythathouseinthepainting,howcouldshesayno?Steffanwasnice.Miricould imaginebecomingfriends,evendear friends.Shewouldfindwaystomakehimlaugh,andhewouldshowherallofDanland.Andperhapsshewouldbehappy.

Butthenearerhisreturn,thetighterMirifeltherselfclingingtoMountEskelas she had to that tree root on the cliff.Themountainwashome.Her pawashome.AndPeder...SheallowedherselftohopeforPeder.Herwishesweretoobigforahillsideofmiriflowers.


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