FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

Amora

The school yard was empty, and I cut a diagonal path through the snow, passing the chain link fence that radiated cold at me and carrying on down the sidewalk till I reached the bus stop. I would have to catch a city bus to take me to the bus depot and find a greyhound or something. Something that could take me almost all the way there. I sighed and shrugged my shoulders around, trying to adjust the heavy back pack. The straps of my purse had tangled in the cords of my back pack. This traveling thing was not fun. I cursed Frost, Fire and whatever other giants happened to exist.

            Just leave me alone.

The bus came, sending a rush of dry air over me that sent my hair flying. I climbed onboard and found a seat near the back, resting my head against the window. Suddenly I felt small and alone. I was too young to be running, by myself no less. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. It wasn’t like the movies, where I was so sure of my next move, and that everything would turn out fine. I felt sort of lost. Maybe California was a terrible idea. Wouldn’t they expect me to go there? They would know who my friends were, wouldn’t they? Loki knew I was going there. What if he found me?

            California is a big place, I told myself. I can find somewhere to hide until he stops looking for me. I shut my eyes and let my mind wander, letting my thoughts blend and drift with the rumble of the machine that carried me further away from my home.

            The palace library was filled with the smell of leather bound books. The shelves towered up to the ceiling, spiralling enough to make you dizzy if you gazed upwards for too long. I liked to sit in the library by the great fire after battle. Books have so many words, but they do not speak, they do not scream in pain or yell battle cries. My feet shuffled, softly echoing through the library as I hurried to the dim lamps of the tables, to the book I had yet to finish. The book of poetry I read each time I come here, a weighty tome that may very well outlast me.  I find relief in the pictures the author paints, solace in the calm fields and seas of his imagination.

I am lost to the words, and no longer see battle gore and running blood in my memories.

Even the words of the Queen could not calm me as his do.

            The bus jerked to a stop with a hiss, knocking my head painfully on the window. I groaned, sitting upright to be greeted by an instant crick in my neck. The last stop was the depot, and I guess we were there now. I forced myself to get up, peering out the window. The depot was crowded, people waiting under the canvas shelters with luggage, saying goodbye to their families. I felt my stomach flutter a little as I climbed off, wishing I wasn’t by myself. I sort of wished I’d convinced Charlotte to come with me, but that was ridiculous. She wasn’t in any danger, and there was no sense worrying her step parents. I wondered if Dave had seen the note on the white board yet. I knew Janet had for sure by now. It made the corners of my mouth quirk a little, thinking about her face when she looked into her wallet, or tried to pour herself a cup of tea. I checked the schedule, discovered to my irritation that I’d have to wait for an hour, and went to lean against the wall behind one of the benches, standing behind a couple of dread- locked hippies who sat there smoking. I was examining the crowd, and so I saw him before he saw me. My heart gave a violent lurch as I watched him stride towards the depot. His dark curls were squashed under a black knit winter hat, and he was obviously searching the crowd for me. I stood there for a second, debating with myself.

            Which way do I run? Where do I go?

            I had to slip away before he spotted me. Slowly I slid sideways along the wall, falling in to step with a couple who had started walking past me. Luckily he was looking the other way, and I managed to slip around the side of the building. Once he was out of sight I put on a burst of speed and yanked open the doors of the nearest building.