The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas, Elizabeth Rokkan

than ever. The sky above the delicatesilken twilight shimmered blue as steel. Today there was nothing frightening at the sides of the road; the morning darkness was pleasant as it dispersed, gradually and surely. Strange that one could get into a panic about it at night.
    What is the matter with Unn?
    She’ll probably tell me again some time. I shan’t think about it. I just want to be with her. She needn’t tell me. It’s something that hurts; I don’t want to know what it is.
    Unn had not arrived when Siss hurried into the warm classroom. Several of the others were there. Some of them said casually, ‘Hi, Siss.’
    She did not say a word about yesterday’s meeting. They probably expected it, because of the exchange of notes, but they contained themselves. They were probably waiting to see what would happen when Unn turned up. Siss had it all worked out: as soon as Unn appeared in the doorway she would go to meet her so that everyone should see how things stood. The idea made her so happy that she tingled all over.
    Had she altered already? A girl from the old group asked straight out, ‘What’s the matter, Siss?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    Could they already see that she would leave them and go to Unn as if rejoicing? Were their eyes
so
sharp? Oh well, it made no difference. In any case it would soon be no secret. In spite of awkwardness she would have to do it: go to Unn shining with friendliness.
    Wasn’t she going to come soon out of the twilight? Like something new?
    There was no sign of her. Soon nearly all of them had come except Unn. The teacher came. Time was up,
    The teacher said good morning.
    But wasn’t Unn coming?
    It was immediately verified from the charge desk: ‘Unn’s missing today.’
    They began the lesson.
    Unn’s missing today. A calm statement of fact. Siss, who was watchful, thought she heard slight surprise in the teacher’s voice. Others would certainly have heard nothing. Sometimes one of them was missing, sometimes another. No fuss was made. It was noted in a thick register that Unn had not come to school today. That was all.
    Siss sat nervously at her desk.
    She had noticed that Unn never played truant from school, so it must have been something special today. And Siss connected it without hesitation with their meeting in her bedroom yesterday evening. Did Unn simply not want to meet her today? Was she
so
embarrassed?
    In the break Siss tried to behave as usual. Nobody said she didn’t, so she must have succeeded. Nor did anybody mention Unn, who was missing; she was an outsider after all.
    The school day proceeded. The late winter sun rose and shone as best it could on the window-panes. Siss simply waited for the sun to go down and the day to end, so that she could get away and ask after Unn. The day felt long.
    Shortly after noon the sun went in. Before it began its brief downward course it became veiled in mist, a mist that soon turned into thick, grey cloud.
    Up at the charge desk the voice was saying: ‘The weather report said there’d be a change this afternoon. They’re expecting snow.’
    Snow.
    The first time this year.
    Brief, but full of meaning: snow.
    It had a special ring. Everyone in the room was so very well aware of what the word stood for: an important part of life. Snow.
    The voice up there continued: ‘So the cold weather will probably break, too.’
    And again: ‘But then the snow will cover the ice.’ For a moment each one of them thought of something sad: funerals or something similar. That was what it sounded like. The lake was black and shining like steel for the last time. There had been a cold, but marvellous skating season for a long time. Today it would end, today the snow would come.
    When they went out of doors after the next lesson the ice had already begun to whiten.
    Here in the schoolyard the ground was still bare, but the air was grey and you could feel a few invisible flakes on your face if you lifted it. The enormous expanse of ice was already