SoYun looked from the bull to the girls, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “He’s fading away right in front of us—and the other cattle are showing similar symptoms, too!” SoYun gestured to a sweet-looking cow with long lashes, and eyes that moved back and forth like the pendulum in a grandfather clock. It was as if the cow was tracking something that wasn’t there. Or rather, tracking something invisible that only the cow could see.
“What if,” SoYun continued, “they all fall into the deep sleep, and then…” The fear in the girl’s voice was tangible and sharp.
Anna reached out and hugged her close. “They’ll be okay,” Anna said. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to help, won’t we, Elsa?”
Elsa reached out and patted SoYun’s shoulder a few times. “Yes. You did exactly right by coming to tell me.”
Me. That small word echoed through Anna’s whole body. There had been a time, she was sure, when Elsa would have said us.
Anna spun to Elsa. “I have an idea,” she whispered. “We should visit the trolls.” Though only as tall as Anna’s waist and covered in moss, the tiny mountain trolls were the most powerful creatures Anna knew. Grand Pabbie, the oldest and arguably the wisest troll, would sometimes use the aurora’s glow to show glimpses of what might be or, occasionally, to deal with all matters that could involve magic. If anyone could help SoYun and her cattle, Anna knew it was the trolls. Because as she had learned, when mysterious happenings occurred that raised questions, it was best to visit mystical creatures for answers.
Elsa smiled. “That’s a great idea, but I think we may only have time to look in the castle library. Why don’t we try that first? Remember what Father used to say.”
Anna scrunched up her face, trying to remember which of Father’s many sayings Elsa could be referring to. “‘Anna and Elsa, always lean on each other for help’?” she guessed.
A slight smile appeared on Elsa’s lips, though it was tinged with sadness. “He did say that. But he also said, ‘The past has a way of returning.’ We should find out if this has happened before, and at the very least, gather information that might be of use for the trolls.”
Elsa made an excellent point, and Anna was suddenly excited to check the library together. Both sisters enjoyed curling up with a good storybook there, but the library also held books about the histories of the kingdom, the royal family, and the townspeople. If any place in the castle had answers, it would be there.
“Does anything help with the symptoms?” Elsa asked SoYun.
SoYun, who’d knelt down to stroke Hebert’s nose, glanced up. “Mint seems to help them stay alert. The smell is sharp for their noses, but it doesn’t last for long.”
“Mint,” Elsa repeated. “I’ll make sure to write that down in the report. Remind me, Anna, won’t you?” After making sure they had taken in all there was to know regarding the symptoms, they bade their farewells to SoYun, Hebert, and the rest of the cattle.
As Anna hauled herself onto Havski, she called back, “Don’t worry, SoYun! We’ll fix this. I promise.”
——
Anna and Elsa spent the rest of the afternoon in the castle library. So far, absolutely nothing mentioned sick cattle ever falling into seemingly endless sleeps in all of Arendelle’s history. Which meant that there were no suggestions for a cure for the Blight, as Elsa had decided to call the sleeping sickness.
Elsa sat in the window seat, flipping through a book, while Anna sprawled out on the couch in front of the fire, lifting a book overhead to read. A sharp knock resounded throughout the library, followed by Kai’s urgent voice. “Your Majesty, are you in there?”
“I’m here, Kai!” Elsa called.
The ornate door slammed open, and the usually calm man entered looking flustered, his scarf undone instead of knotted neatly at his neck and his ruddy eyebrows knitted together. Anna’s heart sped up. As steward of the castle, Kai was a man of decorum and protocol. He always bowed when he greeted them, no matter how many times the sisters had begged him to stop. But not now.
“What’s wrong, Kai?” Elsa stood up from the window alcove and hurried toward him as Anna set down her book and bolted up from the couch.
“Grave news,” Kai gasped out, sounding as though he’d run to get there. “The Westens’ entire herd of goats have seemingly dropped down in the middle of the field, and they simply won’t wake up. The family is asking for you to come quickly, Your Majesty.”
Dread crept over Anna, and she turned to Elsa. “Do you think…?”
Elsa nodded. “It’s certainly possible. But we still haven’t found an answer.” She looked from the tall piles of books to the high, full bookcases, then back at Kai, clearly torn about what she should do next.
“You should go,” Anna urged her. “Just to make sure it’s the same thing.”
Elsa tugged at her fingers, a habit Anna knew was left over from the days when Elsa always wore silk gloves to repress her powers. Anna reached out to rest a hand on Elsa’s forearm. Startled, Elsa looked down and, realizing what she had been doing, gave Anna a small smile as if to thank her. She folded her hands neatly in front of her.
“If you’re worried,” Anna said, “we should divide and conquer. Send Kristoff and Sven to the trolls, since we haven’t found anything useful, and I’ll stay here to keep looking for answers. I can handle it.”
Still, Elsa hesitated, and Anna wondered why. Did Elsa not like her recommendation? Or did Elsa not trust her to handle this job? But at last, Elsa nodded, and relief settled over Anna as her sister said, “That’s a good idea. I’ll let Kristoff know before I go, but I promise I’ll come right back.” And with that, Elsa hurried out after Kai, leaving Anna to search for solutions on her own.
Hours passed, and the wax from the candles cascaded onto the table in little pools, but Anna hardly noticed—she kept bouncing from book to book, trying to find answers…and failing. A gentle breeze twirled in from the open window, sending many of the open books’ pages fluttering, as well as scattering a sprinkle of goosebumps across Anna’s arm and stirring up the ash in the fireplace. Soon, that very same breeze would be filling Elsa’s sails to take her far, far away.
Travel by ship made Anna nervous. Seven years had passed since their parents had set out on a voyage to the Southern Sea that had been meant to last only two weeks, but had turned into forever. The days following the news had been the darkest of Anna’s life, and the nights had been worse. Sleep had been impossible. The insides of her eyelids were the color of the fathomless waves that she imagined took her parents. Sometimes, even now, her parents’ absence would startle her all over again, fresh and sudden as a bee sting. But as the years went by, the pain had become less immediate, old childhood nightmares faded, and she could remember her parents—her mother’s loving lullabies, her father’s teasing humor and tall tales—with joy.
Her reunion with Elsa had helped. When Elsa had shut herself away as a little girl, Anna was left with only her own memories of their parents. But since Elsa’s bedroom door had opened, Anna’s collection of stories about their parents had multiplied. And while the stories didn’t fill the hole in her heart, they did help smooth out the jagged edges.