I thank the stars that she believes me. “Yes. I’ll never do something that stupid again.”
After we wash, me shivering from the frigid water and Freya oddly seeming to enjoy it, we return to the shelter and retrieve two baskets, then head out to gather twigs for kindling. I wrap my right hand in three layers of wool to try to protect it from the chill wind and sorely wish I owned a pair of gloves. As we exit the cave, we meet Aira and her father—Ismael, who has a bushy black beard, a scar that slices through one of his eyebrows, and, I recall, the ability to coax fire from damp leaves. Aira’s carrying a saw, and Ismael’s hauling a string of fish. Both are wearing light cloaks despite the bitter cold.
Veikko is with them, wrapped in a thick cloak of fur and wearing heavy gloves on his hands. “—got in through the front gate this time,” he’s telling them. “There’s a shortage of vegetables in the city, so when I offered the constable a bag of potatoes, he let me right in!”
Ismael scowls. “Worse and worse,” he says. “Soon the city dwellers will be coming out here and raiding us!”
Veikko looks down at the string of fish. “Most citizens have no idea how to fend for themselves. They’re used to things being easy. Spoiled by the warmth and plenty. Now that it’s gone, they’re like orphaned baby birds.” He raises his eyebrows. “They’d better hope a hungry weasel doesn’t find the nest before their mother returns.”
“If that weasel has longboats and broadswords,” Aria scoffs, “it might not matter.”
Freya and I meet them in the middle of the wide-open area in front of the cavern, surrounded by the high, steep stone walls of the hills that hide this cave entrance from view. Aira smiles at me. I believe she’s noticed how Oskar doesn’t treat me differently than he treats others, and she no longer considers me a threat to her romantic hopes. I smile back, despite the now-familiar ache in my chest every time I think of him. “If there are food shortages, is the temple sharing some of their surplus with the citizens?” I ask them. “They have food aplenty from their own gardens, and all the magic they need to keep things growing.”
“The temple’s not sharing a thing.” Veikko frowns. “It’s shut up tight now. Only the elders dare show their faces in town.”
“Because the people are afraid of them.” I remember how they made way as Aleksi and Leevi passed. I used to think it was awe and respect, but now I wonder if I was wrong, as I was about so many things.
“Aye,” says Ismael, scratching at his beard. “No one dares approach them. But as people get hungrier, their desperation will outweigh their fear.”
“It’s already happening,” says Veikko. “There was a riot in the market over food prices yesterday, made worse by a rumor that the priests have been hoarding copper in the temple that could be used for trade. A few people were shouting that they should raid the temple.”
I shake my head. “The elders are worried about a copper shortage.”
“But why would the priests care so much?” asks Aira. “Seems like the city council should be more worried.”
“Because copper is—” Suddenly I realize I’ve stepped out onto some of the thinnest ice imaginable. Aira, Ismael, and Veikko are giving me equally curious looks. “I . . . was in a bakery fetching buns for my mistress’s breakfast and overheard one of the temple scullery maids saying that copper is the source of the Kupari magic.”
“Heard Raimo say as much once,” says Ismael, nearly making me sag in relief as the others turn their attention to him. But then he adds, “But how do you know the elders are worried about a shortage, Elli?”
My face burns with my fear of having revealed too much. “M-my master in town . . . he had recently done business with one of the elders and . . . he had dined in the temple. Apparently it came up. I overheard him telling my mistress that night.”
“You overhear a great many interesting things,” Aira says, her rosy lips curled with suspicion.
“It makes sense, though,” says Veikko. “Those miners were desperate to gain access to our caves. And they’ll be back.”
Ismael looks slightly sick. “And they might bring priests, seeing as they have a stake in the copper too.” He glances over my shoulder, into the main cave, where dozens of families are going about the business of daily life. “I suppose we might be thankful for a bit of the upheaval in the town. I hope it keeps all of them busy for some time to come.”
“It may not be enough,” says Veikko. “I overheard two of the constables near the gate, telling quite a story.” He leans forward, clutching his fur cloak around him as an icy breeze gusts around us. “One claimed that a priest had sent him a message—asking him to be on the lookout for the Valtia.”
A brutal chill runs hard down my back, but Aira lets out a peal of laughter. “What? As if she’d be roaming the streets?”