The Ice Queen’s Shoes by R.S. Kellogg

“It is my holiday,” the man sitting across from Della on the train said. “A short one. Two days. So, I suppose it’s going a little bit differently than how I’d envisioned.”

Della watched him carefully. Who had a holiday that lasted only two days? And, for that matter, what kind of a person had a holiday now? Her university had reached the end of its term, but most of the city wouldn’t go on holiday for another three weeks, and then the whole city basically would take a month off.

The old man must have read something in her questioning expression. “I’ve been working on a project,” he said. He looked a bit stressed as he said it, but there was also something a bit impish about him—Della liked him despite her natural distrust of strangers. He seemed avuncular, and she could tell by the unique worn smooth brown cloth of his clothing that he was one of the North Men, rarely sighted in the city of Breadcove Bay.

She was a little flattered by the focus of his attention.

It was going to take some time to get to where she was going, so she may as well spend the time in interesting conversation.

“Tell me about your project,” she said.

He grinned. It was all the encouragement he needed.

“Me and my men have been tracking something across the northern plains,” he said, with the flair of a natural storyteller. “And a week ago, it just got a little bit more interesting. But three days ago, the trail went cold, fast. So, me and the men, we decided a break was in order. We’d each take a two-day vacation, and start at it fresh again.”

“If you’re tracking something,” Della interjected, “Wouldn’t taking a break mean you’d risk the trail going cold?”

The man shook his head.

He looked smug, Della thought. Smug with the air of a man who has supreme confidence in his craft.

“It’s not a beast I’m tracking,” he said. “Not that kind of a being at all. The way tracking of this nature goes, first the trail goes cold, then, we take a break, and if we’re lucky, as we soften our approach to it, the perfect information will naturally show up.”

Curiosity piqued, Della tilted her head. “Naturally show up when you are nowhere near the trail of your prey? I ask you, what on earth are you tracking?”

She’d heard, of course, the legends: that North Men tracked animals, found lost humans, located lost camps and lost objects, and sometimes . . . rumor had it . . . tracked supernatural beings.

She wondered whether she’d happened upon a North Man in the middle of a fairy tale, feeling a bit like an explorer who has stumbled into a strange new environment, where the people might do something completely unexpected at any moment.

Staring at him as though she were watching a polar bear in the governor’s private animal enclosure, where she had been a guest at the winter party one year, she waited as he seemed to debate within himself whether to share with her any part of his tracking tale—and if so, how much.

“I’m tracking a lady,” he finally said, and Della roared with laughter.

The man jolted, clearly knocked off kilter by Della’s hearty response.

She didn’t have a delicate laugh. It was more like the way a man would laugh when he had bested everyone at a game of cards. And it would come out of nowhere.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, folding her arms. She didn’t care a twig how people responded to her laugh. They could take her or leave her.

Just as she could take or leave anyone who came across her path.

And at the moment, this was a person who was entertaining her.

“You’re tracking a woman?” she asked him. “Did she wander out into the north and get lost? Or are you trying to find a romance?”

She snorted and shook her head.

He looked wounded but still doggedly eager to pursue the conversation.

“I’m tracking a Sky Woman,” he said, and Della leaned forward intently, her smile instantly gone.

A Sky Woman.

That would be more akin to a goddess.

“Why are you tracking a Sky Woman?” she asked him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s complicated,” he said. “But it’s part of the job of my family, and my men, to keep the balance between the Sky people of the north and the boundaries of the city. We have to make sure that neither side encroaches on the side of the other.”

She sighed. “That sounds like a big project.”

He nodded.

“How do you even begin to do something like that?” Della asked.