was near the beginning of a flat area before a jumble of boulders that marked the pinnacle of the island. They slowly pulled their way to the top, and Jannick stepped around the cairn, viewing the rocky slopes in all directions, looking for the strange beings that lived there. A few other peaks stretched on, and he realized that this mountain was not even the center of the island, which now seemed to have no center at all. And there was nothing else, he thought bitterly. Nothing but grass, and rock, and the endless sea beyond.
“It was all lies!” he shouted.
“What?” Hanna called from the other side of the peak. He turned to the jumble of rocks, and speaking to it rather than to the little girl on the other side, shouted in a hoarse voice: “Just like the books! My mother told me lies and now she’s going to die. And there is nobody who can do anything about it.” Jannick’s voice echoed around him and the wind whipped away his tears. Suddenly, Hanna was by his side, holding his mitten in her own.
“There are no barons,” he said, more softly now.
Hanna turned to the sea, and put her small hand on her chin, in the pose of someone deep in thought, while Jannick wiped his red face.
“No, that’s not right,” she said. “Look at where we are! We have done something I never heard of anyone doing. Maybe…” Her voice rose. “This is our kingdom.”
Jannick stared at his friend’s red hair dancing wildly in the wind. A piece of him knew this was fantasy, and another wanted to believe her. He stood there for a long time in the empty home of the Wind Barons of the Faroe Islands, caught between the ocean and the sky.