Page 70 of Echo North

Still no Hal. I climbed the mountain in the center of the island with the farmer’s daughter, up to a crumbling old castle where the mythical prince had been imprisoned for centuries.

I half expected the prince to turn out to be Hal, but he was a wizened old man with white hair and sapphires studded into his skin. The farmer’s daughter turned him young with a kiss.

I walked away from them to the edge of the island, peering down, down, down through the clouds at the sea far below.

What was I supposed to do?

Should I light the lamp?

Should I not light the lamp?

“Echo! I was hoping to see you again before your year was up.”

I blinked and saw Mokosh coming toward me, riding on one of the sea-wisps, which she’d harnessed with ice and moonbeams. The wisp was the same violet color as Mokosh’s eyes and had curls of fiery hair.

“Have you found out how to free him?” she asked, reining in the sea-wisp so it hovered mere inches from where I stood. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

I thought of the clock, winding down behind the obsidian door. I thought of the lamp on the bedside table, of human fingers, tangled with mine in the dark. “I don’t want to get it wrong.”

The sea-wisp hummed with energy and music, and Mokosh regarded me with pity. “So you will do nothing? What about the lamp?”

I looked at her sharply, a sudden horrible suspicion darting into my mind. “Are you the Queen of the Wood?”

She shook her head. “I am not. But I know her.”

“Hal says she always lies.”

“He is wrong. She speaks only the truth.” The wind teased a strand of Mokosh’s silver hair out of its braid. It blew about her face like a tendril of spider silk. “What did she tell you to do?”

“The one thing I can’t do.”

“Then you have your answer. Light the lamp. Set him free.”

The violet sea-wisp opened its strange mouth and started singing. I felt the light print of rain on my shoulders.

“Whoareyou?” I demanded.

Mokosh stroked the sea-wisp’s neck, and her hand sunk through it. I didn’t understand how she was sitting on the wisp at all. “One who cares for Hal as you do. One who would see him free.”

I tried to ignore my wrench of jealousy, and failed.

“I will speak plainly to you, Echo. You are the only one who can help him. To succeed or to fail—it is in your hands. But if you fail, know this—you will regret it forever. And this time there will be no going back.”

Tears pressed hard against my throat. “I can’t lose him.”

“Then you know what to do.”

“But Ican’t.”

“Echo.” Mokosh put her hands on my shoulders, and somehow the weight gave me comfort. “Don’t fail him. Don’t fail yourself. Only you can do this. I have faith in you.”

The sea-wisp sang one last keening note.

“Do what you know you must,” said Mokosh. “Farewell.” And then she tugged on the sea-wisp’s reins and they both swirled away into the sky.

I told the library to take me home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX