I’ve got work tomorrow, but Buff says hetalked to Abe and it’s okay, given the circumstances. I’ll stillget paid just the same, as if I worked. Why would he be sogenerous? Not that I give a shiver about any of that right now.Silver and sickles and debts and boulders-’n-avalanches seem likemeaningless things now that Jolie’s gone. I guess they always werepretty meaningless in the scheme of things.

Wes is out looking for Jolie. He got time offfrom work too, but he won’t get paid anything while he’s gone. Iguess the mines aren’t as generous as the king.

Buff’s here, mostly to watch me, although Ican barely move to scratch an itch, much less work my way outta thecomplex web of ropes they’ve strung up to keep me still. My head’spounding something fierce, but I can’t sleep for one second longer,so I hold my eyes open.

“We’ll find her,” Buff says, sitting nearby.Mother’s beyond him, waving her hands at the fireplace, like she’scoaxing dead spirits out of it. Wes hasn’t got a clue where she gotthe ice from, but it’s almost a relief that she’s back on it so wedon’t have to deal with her needing time while we’re trying to findmy sister.

“I’ll find her,” I say.

“Not until your head’s on the mend,” Buffsays.

“It’s fine now,” I retort.

“You’re so weak I could kick your arse withone arm and a leg tied behind my back,” he says.

“One, that’s physically impossible, and two,I’d eat yellow snow before I’d ever let you beat me in a fight,” Isay, almost managing a smile.

Buff curls half a lip. Smiles are luxuriesright now. “Just give it a couple more days and then we’ll golooking for her together.”

“Like I have a choice,” I say, strainingagainst the ropes to show him just how helpless I am.

“You want something to eat?” Buff says.

“Like I want you spooning soup in my mouth.It’s bad enough when Wes does it.” Just the same, I know it’s arare thing to have a friend like Buff.

Buff shrugs. “I could find you a nurse. Areal icy one, even icier than the White District witch.”

“The witch wasn’t icy. And I’ll pass. I’m ona break from girls. Maybe permanently.”

We’re both quiet for a minute, tired of thetype of banter we used to both love. Questions hang in the air likedrying shirts on a clothesline.

“Why’d they take her?” I ask the air.

“Only the Heart of the Mountain knows,” Buffsays, thinking the question was for him.

Why her? Why anyone? Who took her? Where’dthey take her? Are they going to hurt her? Is she—is she—isshe…………?

The questions are dropping from the air likefalling stars, bashing me from all sides—and the last questionkeeps hitting me, rebounding, hitting me again, never quitefinishing, because to finish it will make it true.

(Is she dead?)

“We’re going to find her,” I say, clinging tothe statement with every bit of false hope I can muster.

Chapter Nine

Life marches on.

Bad shiv happens, people cry—not me, but somepeople—and then everyone forgets about it, keeps on keeping on asif nothing bad happened in the first place.

Wes lost his job after three weeks of notshowing up. I’ve gained more respect for him than ever before,because he put Joles before his job, before Mother, beforeeverything. Not that it helped.

Buff’s been great too, spending all his daysoff with me, scouring the town, peeking in windows, asking peopleitchy questions, like “Where were you on the night…” and “Have youseen a little girl…” We even romped through the Red District onenight, sneaking down alleys that aren’t safe even during the day,picking fights with guys we had no business picking fights with.The two black eyes would’ve been worth it if we’d found outanything at all about where Jolie might’ve been taken, and by whom.But nobody knew an icin’ thing, or if they did, they weren’ttalking, other than with their fists.

Abe told Buff I have to go back to worktonight or he’ll stop paying me, by order of the king, which Ithink is a bunch of bearshiv, because the king don’t know me from athree-legged goat. I could be dead in a cold grave and King Goffwould go on nibbling on his fire country delicacies as if nothinghad changed.

But I’m going back to work anyway, notbecause Abe says I have to, but because I need a distraction, andour family needs a bit of that meaningless silver, so we can keepeating.

Buff’s pretty much kept me up to date on thejob, what he’s seen, what he’s done. It hasn’t been that muchdifferent than the first day. He and the others slide down thesnowy part of the mountain, hike through the unsnowy bits, and theneither deliver trade items—like bear meat and furs—or pick up firecountry goods. Then they climb back to the top. Easy breezy.

Just like life, Buff and I march on, too, outof the Brown District, through the Blue District, and around theWhite District, even though that’s the long way. I’m in no mood tosee any witches today.

As high and formidable as they are, thegreystone palace walls do little to hide the grandeur of the king’sroyal castle. Surrounded by the turreted wall, the heavy stoneblocks of the castle rise up in five different places. Four thintowers that nearly reach the clouds can be seen from almostanywhere in ice country. And the fifth tower, in the center of thefour thin ones, is the marvel of the Icers, rising higher than theothers, splitting the clouds in half. It is said that from theuppermost lofts of that tower, the king can see direct sunlight, nodifferent than in fire country.

With the teeth-chattering cold of nightalready fallen, we’re stuck waiting on the outside, as winter whipsthe snow-filled air around us. Neither of us have the faintest clueas to why we have to do this job at night, but it doesn’t reallymatter because we’ll do it either way. It’s too cold to talk, so wepull our slider masks over our heads.

It’s the clearest night we’ve had all winter,and the dim light of a few stars pokes through the intermittentcloud cover. The brighter light of the moon glows overhead, castinga surreal sheen on everything. If we have to work at night,tonight’s as good a night as any.

When the palace gates open and Abe ambles outfrom inside, everything I thought about him changes in an instant.He was actually…inside? Maybe he does get his ordersdirectly from the king. Maybe he does have as much power as he sayshe does.

He seems to recognize how impressed I am.Icin’ eyes. Always giving my thoughts away for free. “Welcomeback,” he says, directly to me. “I just had a chat with Goff”—hesays the king’s name casually, like they’re old friends—“and we gotspecial cargo arrivin’ in a few days, so we hafta deliver someextra goods today.” He’s speaking words I understand, but when youput them all together like he does, they make no sense. Questionspop up in my mind, but I swallow them away, because questions areagainst the rules.

Nebo arrives next, looking as skittish as apup that’s lost its mother. I try to greet him, but his eyes neverleave the ground, darting around like he’s trying to locate hislost marbles.

Brock and Hightower arrive last and together,which makes me wonder whether they’re friends, whether they talk atall. Well, not talk talk, but something like conversation, withBrock saying something and Tower grunting a response, maybe addingan extra grunt that Brock can then respond to.

They nod a greeting, which we return, but noone says anything about my sister, for which I’m glad. I haven’tgiven up on her, not by a longshot, but that don’t mean I want totalk about her all day and night.

“New guy,” Abe says, and both Buff and I lookat him. He laughs, not in a nice way, but like he enjoys making uslook foolish. “You,” he says, pointing at me. “Daisy.”