As White as Snow by Salla Simukka

convinced the man was a killer sent by the White Family.
    “They want to get rid of you,” he said. “It’s best if we stay together for the rest of your trip. This could get dangerous for you. Or, actually, it already is dangerous for you.”
    Then they both yawned, looked at each other, and burst out laughing. It was so absurd. Talking about mortal danger and then yawning as if it were about as interesting as yesterday morning’s leftover oatmeal. It was late, and both of them had had a long day. They decided to continue talking in the morning when their minds were fresh. Lumikki felt like she could have fallen asleep right there in her chair in the middle of a sentence.
    Jiři made up Lumikki’s bed while she went to wash her face and brush her teeth. Lumikki restrained her desire to peek into Jiři’s bathroom cabinets. She’d already imposed upon this man’s life quite enough for one day. She shouldn’t spy.
    When Lumikki finally laid her head on the pillow, she assumed she’d fall asleep instantly. She was wrong.
    Jiři’s joke about sleeping in the same bed had gotten Lumikki thinking about whether she would ever fall in love again since she still burned for Blaze the way she did. Because she really did love him. That was why the longing wasn’t going away. That was why the yearning wouldn’t release her. Would anyone else’s flirting ever have the same effect? Would she ever be able to trust anyone enough to let them that close to her, skin to skin? Lumikki didn’t know.
    One bright, starry August night, they had sat together at one of the wooden stalls on Tammela Square when everything was still good. Lumikki lightly stroked the constellationon Blaze’s neck and looked for the same pattern in the sky. When she found it, her mind was flooded with peace, certainty, and joy.
    “I love you,” Lumikki said.
    The words were so natural, so light, even though their content was heavier than anything she had ever said before.
    “I love you too,” Blaze replied, just as naturally.
    The sky above them was dark and full of stars. In that moment, every single one burned just for them.

SUNDAY, JUNE 19

Lumikki had run into plenty of funny words in her life, but “funicular” was still definitely the funniest. Funicular. Funicular. Funicular. She felt like repeating it over and over to the rhythm of the car. “Inclined plane railway” didn’t sound nearly as fascinating, even if it meant the same thing: a rail car pulled by a cable up a steep slope. Lumikki would’ve flipped a coin to decide whether to walk to the top of Petřín Hill instead of ride, but that morning, when she asked Jiři’s opinion, he said that she really should try the funicular at least once while she had the chance. And besides, for some unknown reason, it hadn’t started charging tourist prices yet, so you could get up the hill with a normal public transit ticket.
    Lumikki and Jiři came up with a plan: Jiři would continue his own research, and even though it wasn’t ideal, Lumikki needed to go alone to interview Lenka and try to figure outwhat the cult was up to. They’d meet back at Jiři’s place that afternoon to compare notes. Jiři insisted it wasn’t safe for Lumikki to stay anywhere but at his apartment. Lumikki had to agree.
    Now she gazed at the green slopes of the hillside as the funicular made its slow, steady climb. Her eyes greedily took in the terrain, which was so different than Finland’s. Valleys, hills, slopes, stairways, and roofs. The variety was thrilling. Most of the other passengers were also tourists who kept jumping up and gushing over the beautiful landscape. A few locals sat around looking as morose as Finns on a bus in November. Lumikki had already learned that Praguers weren’t the most talkative or bubbly, and that suited her just fine. When cashiers didn’t smile, she didn’t have to force one either.
    Business was business, smiles were smiles.
    It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet, but the