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  Just then, Einar had walked in the door, home from the office. His hair was slicked back as usual, but before even going to wash out the oil, he swooped Sig up in his arms and made him a promise.

  “We won’t be hungry ever again, I promise. Not once we leave this town.”

  “Are we leaving, Einar?” Maria said, hope rising in her voice.

  “We’ll leave in the autumn. On the last boat. I’m going to work the summer. But I promise we’ll never spend another winter here.”

  And in their different ways, none of them would.

  24

  The Water That Burns

  Though Einar had expected trouble from Wolff the day after he’d refused to reopen the office, the trouble never came.

  Wolff had spent the night at the saloon and seemed perfectly civilized the next morning.

  Nonetheless, he was first in the queue to have his gold tested and was waiting at the door of the office. Einar worked with two other men, also appointed by Mr. Salisbury, and who’d arrived on the first boat that summer. They were a frail old man called Wells, who worked as the clerk, and a man of Einar’s age called Figges, who was a little slow but big. He seemed to be there to provide muscle in case of trouble.

  The beauty of the relationship among the three of them, Einar soon realized, was that none of them trusted the other. Mr. Wells would scrutinize his record books, scratching away with a brass nib pen, but all the while he’d keep one eye twisted toward Einar. Einar went about his work methodically, and all the while kept his eye on Figges, who looked like a murderer who just hadn’t found anyone to murder yet.

  Figges sat at his desk, eating most of the day, his lazy eyes sloping from one of them to the other, and then back again.

  But it was Einar who did all the testing and weighing. It was Mr. Salisbury himself who’d taught Einar how to use the fierce little crucible to smelt the gold, and the aqua fortis to remove impurities. Einar’s table was a miniature laboratory, with a pair of balance scales, burners, and bottles of acid and other chemicals.

  Wolff held out his tiny paper wrap containing some grains of gold to Einar.

  “Test it.”

  “Would you like to come back? It can take a little—”

  “I’ll wait,” Wolff said, and pulled over a chair to sit within a few feet of Einar.

  Figges sat more upright in his chair, sensing trouble at last, and Wells kept scribbling and watching, all at once.

  Unsettled, Einar set to work on Wolff’s samples and prayed they were of high quality, not wanting to have to tell him his find was worthless.

  His hands trembled as he got the burners going underneath the crucible, and Wolff saw.

  “Cold?” he sneered. It was as hot a day outside as Nome had ever seen.

  Einar ignored him and, dropping the small grains into the crucible, waited for the heat to do its work, running his hands nervously through his hair as he did, smoothing it till it was as sleek and black as a raven’s wing.

  While he waited, Einar began to prepare his acid, but his hands began to shake even worse as he saw Figges fingering a gun underneath his desk, eager for something to start.

  Einar poured the aqua fortis and his hands betrayed him. He felt the nitric acid trickle onto his skin, and without thinking, he dropped the lot and ran to the sink.

  “Thank God they built that pipe from the creek,” he said over his shoulder, washing the acid off his hand, and washing it again until he was sure it was all gone. He’d moved fast and the burn wasn’t too deep. With luck he might get away with no scarring, in time.

  Wells peered over his rickety desk, Figges sat down again, but Einar saw that Wolff had seen the gun in Figges’s paw.

  Well, that might help in a way. Let Figges get killed. Einar had no interest in dying.

  Einar dried his hands and, returning to his desk, picked up the bottle of acid and the funnel and cleaned everything twice. Fortunately his acid spill had missed the crucible, which was nearly done smelting the gold.

  Einar prepared the acid, taking extra care, and dropped the remains from the crucible into it.

  After a short wait, he drained and washed the tiny button of gold, then placed it on the scales.

  His heart sank, and his eyes raised to Wolff as he gave the verdict.

  “I’m sorry to say your sample is of ten percent purity at best. No more. Probably not worth the effort of digging it up.”

  He held Wolff’s eyes, waiting for him to explode, but he didn’t.

  “Do you want cash for this?” Einar asked, proffering the tiny nugget toward Wolff.

  “No,” Wolff said, taking the gold back. “Not if it’s worth so little. I’ll keep it as a reminder.”

  Einar had no idea what he meant, but he breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.

  Except it wasn’t quite over.

  Wolff stared at him for a long time, stared at him, absorbing every detail of his clothes and hair and face, his eyes burning through Einar’s head like the acid had burned his hand.

  He turned his gaze briefly towards Wells, then Figges for a little longer.

  He took the chair he’d been sitting on, rested it against the wall, then sat down on it.

  “Gentlemen,” he said. “I find this whole business fascinating. You don’t mind if I stay awhile. And watch.”

  25

  The Hunter’s Response

  “We have to close now.”

  Einar stood behind his desk and tried to show Wolff that he wouldn’t be intimidated.

  Wells was folding up his spectacles and sliding them into a metal tube that served as a case. Figges had already left, bored of waiting for any possible trouble brewing.

  All day Wolff had sat on the hard wooden chair till they’d almost forgotten he was there. Occasionally he would shift a leg or stretch, but otherwise, he sat, watching every move Einar made.

  They’d had a steady stream of customers, and Einar had been busy, not even stopping for lunch. Wolff took no lunch either, and at the end of the day, Einar was glad to see him stand up the first time he asked. Some of the men had had good gold, others almost worthless. Wolff had watched them all just the same, watched Einar test their gold, weigh their grains, count out cash.

  “Fascinating,” he said. “Fascinating.”

  He left.

  But the next day, as Einar had been working at his table for a couple of hours, he suddenly sensed that he was being watched through the window. He looked up to see Wolff staring at him. Immediately, the bear-man moved off down the boardwalk, but he came again the next day, and the next, and the next.

  Finally, the day came when, five minutes before closing time, Wolff stood in front of Einar’s table once more.

  Wells and Figges were well used to the sight of Wolff now and made their way out of the office on the stroke of six with better things to do.

  “I’m sorry,” Einar said. “We’re closing.”

  But he already knew that wasn’t going to help him.

  “I’m not here to have my gold tested. I’m here to make you a proposition.”

  Einar packed away his things, pretending not to hear.

  “I said, I’m here to make you a proposition. A deal. An arrangement.”

  He came around to Einar’s side of the table and looked at the materials, the equipment. He picked up a bottle of aqua fortis and shushed it gently around inside the bottle.

  Einar grabbed it from him and set it back down softly on the table.

  “What is it you want to say?”

  Wolff smiled.

  “I want half.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I want half. I want half of your gold. You’re a very clever man. You can understand that. Half.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Einar said. He continued to tidy things that didn’t need tidying, till Wolff lost his patience and slammed Einar against the wall.

  “Don’t play with me. You might have deceived those idiots you w
ork with, but you don’t deceive me. I want half. I know how you do it. I want half, and in return, I keep my silence. Yes? A partnership. We are partners.”

  “Listen. Wolff,” Einar said, wrestling free from Wolff’s grip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you think I’m stealing gold, you can see that it’s just not possible. There’s Wells and Figges, and everything is measured, weighed, recorded. Mr. Salisbury checks it every week. You’ve seen it all. You’ve seen it for yourself.”

  Wolff turned for the door.

  “Good,” he said. “Yes, I’ve seen it all. And now we are partners, Andersson. You understand that. It’s a good arrangement, because we both get something from it. And I know I can trust you.”

  “You do?” Einar blurted out, not thinking.

  “Yes,” growled Wolff. “I do. Give my regards to your beautiful wife. And your sweet children.”

  The door swung shut behind him, and Einar sank into his office chair once more. He put his head in his hands, and he wept.

  26

  The Sound of the Sky

  “Are we really leaving?” Anna asked her father one day at bedtime.

  Einar smiled at Anna.

  “Yes.”

  “But when? Before it gets cold again?”

  “We’ll leave on the last boat of the year,” Einar said, stroking his daughter’s wavy brown hair. Sig was snuffling away at the foot of his parents’ bed, across the room. Maria was cleaning dishes and singing quietly to herself.

  “But it will be cold by then, won’t it, Pappa? Can’t we leave before it gets cold again?”

  “Don’t you like the snow?” Einar asked. “The Northern Lights; the sounds they make?”

  “Yes, but it just goes on and on and on. And it’s so cold. Too cold. I didn’t like it here last winter.”

  “No. And your mother was ill, but she’s fine now, thanks to God for that. But I have to work as long as possible, so we need to stay till the last boat comes.”

  Anna considered this for a while, stroking the hair of her little wooden doll just as her father stroked hers. Then a frown crossed her face.

  “Pappa?”

  “What is it, little one?”

  “I heard some men talking today. They said something funny. They said, ‘Even God leaves on the last boat from Nome.’ What does that mean?”

  Einar’s face stiffened briefly.

  “They just mean things are a bit tough here in the winter,” he said quietly, so Maria wouldn’t hear. “But we know that. That’s why we’re leaving.”

  “Oh,” said Anna, very sleepily. Her eyelids began to droop, but still she wanted to ask something else.

  “Pappa? Are you friends with the bear-man?”

  27

  Avalanche

  A part from the scene with Wolff, things were going well for the Andersson family, and none of them, not even Einar, sensed the storm that was coming.

  Maria sang every day, and Anna started singing with her. Sig seemed to grow an inch every month, and he loved the town, which seemed to get bigger every day, with new houses and shops going up all the time. Boats would come and go, bringing with them more people, more goods, more equipment, more horses, more dogs for when the winter came.

  The place was a heaving mass, and Sig would run here and there whenever he got the chance, marveling at the sights, though Maria was always telling him not to go off by himself. He’d watch the loading and unloading of boats; the building of houses, shacks, and huts; and above all, the people, each carrying a bundle of stories inside them.

  The brief summer was over, not quite in one day as the saying had it, but not so very much longer than that. There was no autumn. Then winter was back, not hard at first, but with every gust of wind came the smell of the snow to come.

  It wouldn’t be long before the last boat sailed.

  On the day it happened, Einar was at work as usual. It was a filthy cold day, with angry gray skies of low clouds scudding fast across the heavens, so that even God didn’t see what happened in the shack that had become the Anderssons’ home.

  Maria had her hands covered in flour and pastry when she suddenly realized Sig had sneaked out to play by himself again.

  “Anna,” she said. “I thought you were watching him. You’ll have to go and find him.”

  Anna looked up from playing with her doll.

  “Oh, but it’s cold outside.”

  “I know it is, but that’s all the more reason why you should have kept an eye on him. Go on, now. By the time you get back, Pappa will be home and supper will be ready.”

  Anna sighed as only a child can sigh and left her doll on the big bed.

  “I’ll be back soon,” she said to it, playing mother. “Now, don’t do anything naughty while I’m gone.”

  She slipped out of the door pulling her coat and gloves on as she went.

  “Hurry, Anna!” called her mother.

  Anna did hurry. She ran down Front Street toward the beach and the comings and goings of boats, because she knew Sig loved to watch. But he wasn’t there.

  So she tried back up behind Front Street, then over to the edge of town, toward the rows of miners’ tents along the shore, the rising and falling pump arms, and way beyond that, the tents of the local people. Even at this distance she could hear their dogs barking, occasionally answered by a dog from town.

  He wouldn’t have gone that far, she thought. She hoped not, or her supper would be cold.

  Then she had an idea. Maybe he’d gone to see Pappa at work. He wasn’t supposed to, but he’d done it more than once.

  Anna decided she’d try there, but when she met Einar, he hadn’t seen Sig either.

  She began to panic slightly, as she and her father hurried home. But he reassured her; they would get Maria and then they could all look.

  They needn’t have worried.

  As they came up along Front Street once more, they saw Sig at last, though for some reason, he was standing in the doorway of the cabin, the door wide open, not going in.

  Surely Maria would tell him to keep the cold out.

  Einar walked a little faster, then faster still.

  Then he ran, and Anna could not keep up.

  She saw Einar reach Sig in the doorway, and then he froze as motionless as his son, both of them staring inside.

  Suddenly Einar was shoving Sig backward, and as Anna arrived, he turned and shouted at her.

  “Anna!”

  He screamed at her.

  “Anna! Take your brother away.”

  Anna didn’t understand, and came closer.

  “Anna,” Einar screamed again. “Get away! Take Sig and get away!”

  He thrust Sig into his sister’s arms, and automatically she wrapped her arms around him.

  “What is it, Sig?” she asked. “What’s happened?”

  She saw her father scramble into the room as if his legs had stopped working, and despite everything he’d said to her, she stumbled in a step after him.

  She saw her mother, or most of her, lying on the floor. Her head was out of sight around the foot of the bed, but she was lying still and her legs stuck out at a strange angle. Her dress was rucked up above her knees, and then Anna saw the floor of the shack was slowly changing color, from brown to red.

  It took her a moment to realize that it was a pool of blood, but she was not a stupid girl, and in another moment she knew their mother was dead.

  Lying in the middle of the pool of blood was Anna’s doll.

  A strong body makes the mind strong. As to the species of exercises, I advise the gun. While this gives moderate exercise to the body, it gives boldness, enterprise and independence to the mind. Let your gun therefore be the constant companion of your walks.

  THOMAS JEFFERSON.

  THIRD PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

  PRINCIPAL AUTHOR OF THE DECLARATION

  OF INDEPENDENCE

  1910 Giron

  68 LATITUDE NORTH

  28

&nb
sp; Sun Day, night

  “I thought you weren’t coming.” Wolff grinned at Anna.

  Anna stared at him for a fraction of a second, her eyes flicked to Sig for some explanation.

  “But here you are,” Wolff continued, drawing back slightly. “Did you bring your dogs back? You are very quiet.”

  Anna ignored Wolff and stepped toward Sig to help him up.

  “Are you all right?”

  Sig nodded.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered, but a single look from Sig was enough to tell her that it was bad.

  Anna helped Sig to a chair, and then she noticed his head.

  “You’re bleeding!”

  “It’s fine,” Sig said, gingerly feeling the cut on the back of his skull.

  “No, it’s not,” Anna said, and went to get some water and a cloth. As she did, she kept one eye on the stranger in the house.

  Wolff sat down again opposite Sig, bringing a chair over from the table.

  “Well,” he said. “Isn’t this cosy? A nice family scene. Though your family has just got smaller, hasn’t it?”

  Anna glared at the stranger.

  “Do I know you? Have we met?”

  Sig waved a hand at Wolff.

  “This is Mr.—”

  “Gunther Wolff, at your service.”

  Sig stared at Wolff. Was he trying to be charming now? A moment before, he had been ready to kill him, or as good as.

  “He says he knew Father. Ten years ago. He says—”

  “Yes,” said Anna. The color drained from her face. “Yes, I remember you.”

  29

  Sun Day, night

  “Will you sit?”

  Wolff inclined his head toward a third chair, still sitting by the table on which Einar lay.

  Reluctantly, Anna took the chair and moved it near to where Sig was sitting.

  “Yes, just the two of you now,” Wolff said.

  “Three,” said Sig. Anna shushed him, but it was too late.