Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2) (22 page)

Skyla huffed. “Her location.
Twenty
is radio code for location.”

“But we’re on the phone,” I said, purposely obtuse.

“
Girlfriend
.”

“Okay, okay.” I read her our nearest mile marker and promised to call her the moment Tori changed her route.

We drove and drove, and the afternoon wore on, and the sun fell lower in the sky. I had dropped back until Tori’s car appeared as a light-blue dot in the distance. Val reassured me that his supernatural—and therefore superior—vision had not lost sight of her, but the distance virtually guaranteed Tori wouldn’t notice us following. Highway signs indicated points of interest along the way, and I made an educated guess about her destination.

“Portland?” I asked. “You think she’s going to Portland?”

Val bit his lip and shook his head. “No. She said she’d be there, wherever
there
is, around sundown. We’ve got another two hours before then.”

“What’s after Portland?”

“If she stays on this highway, then it’s possible she’s heading to Seattle. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Tori didn’t drive to Seattle, though. After nearly three hours on the road and crossing the border into Washington, she exited onto Highway 12, heading east. The nearby billboards advertised local tourist attractions and a ski resort called Crystal Mountain.

“Crystal Mountain?” I said as Val texted Skyla the exit number. “They’re going skiing, and Grim had her stop by the house to pick up their skis?”

“It’s near Mount Rainier,” Val said. “Back country. It’s starting to make some sense.”

“It is? How?”

“I told you we collect places. I have the place in Siqiniq with my roommates, right?”

“Hugh and Joe, yes?”

“Right. But that isn’t the place I call home. Not really. It’s a façade, just like Grim’s house in Corvallis is a pretense. It’s an accessory for whatever persona we’re currently wearing. Asgard was our true home, but we’ve made replacements, here, in Midgard. When we’re not playing a role, when we can shed our masks and be who we really are, we all have that one place we like to go, the place where are hearts live. It’s a sacred place.”

Val’s confession—for in a way, that’s what it was—sank to the bottom of my heart, like a heavy secret. He had confided in me, sharing something I sensed was deeply personal for him and maybe for all the Aesir. I wanted to ask him what landmark he had chosen for his sacred place but thought better of it. Thorin had used the term “need-to-know,” and the location of Val’s true home likely fell under that category. If Val wanted me to know, he would tell me.

“Do you think that’s where Tori is going? To Grim’s sacred place.”

“It would mean he holds her in very high esteem.”

“I got the impression from talking to her that they have that kind of relationship.”

“Or he wants her to think they do.” Val’s voice lacked any emotion.

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Grim is a manipulative bastard.”

“Aren’t you all? When it suits you.”

Val turned and gave me a harsh look but didn’t try to defend himself. “Mount Rainier, Alaska, Baldur’s home at New Breidablik, they all resemble one another, geographically speaking. It’s not a coincidence. The mountains, the snow—they were integral features of Asgard. We prefer these places because they remind us of a home we can only visit in our memories.”

“Thorin has one of these places, too?”

Val pursed his lips. “He does.”

“And Grim’s might be near Rainier somewhere.”

“It’s my working theory. Whether it proves true or not depends on where Tori leads us and what we find when we get there.”

“Why don’t you know where Grim lives? Don’t you all send each other Christmas cards or anything?”

Val snorted. “After Ragnarok, after all those years of being stuck together in Gimle, we were more than happy to allow each other some well-deserved privacy.”

The roads wound and curved as we drove deeper into the mountains. Dusk’s dark hues settled around us, heightening our tension and foreboding. Val, still watching with preternatural vision, warned me that Tori had slowed as we approached an area that the road signs called Mineral Valley. I eased back on the accelerator as she veered right onto a smaller road. I asked Val to text Skyla again and hoped the message went through despite the patchy reception.

“Fall back a little further,” Val said.

“Are you sure? It’s hard to believe you won’t lose sight of her.”

“Trust me,” Val said. “Hawks can see from about a mile away, right? Hawks have nothing on me. It works sort of the same way that we move through space like we do.”

I gaped at him. “You can blip your eyesight through space?”

“Not exactly, but that’s the best way I can explain it.”

“It’s magic,” I said. “Or whatever it is that makes you guys tick.”

“It’s what makes you tick, too, Solina. It’s the same force that gives you fire.”

“Sol gives me my fire.”

“You
are
Sol,” Val said. “The more you embrace your powers, the more indistinguishable you become.”

I had nothing to say to that because I had formed a similar conclusion for myself.

At places where the tree line opened, glimpses of a silvery lake shone through, reflecting the purples of the twilight sky. And in the distance, a massive snow-capped peak, glorious and imposing, loomed over the landscape. I sucked in a breath of awe.

“Rainier?” I asked in a whisper as if speaking of a holy thing.

Maybe it was holy. All the grand cathedrals mankind had built over the centuries attempted to mimic that kind of wonder, that sacred place Nature created to pay homage to God. Sorry, mankind, but Nature’s craftsmanship was clearly superior.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Val said.

“Unbelievable. There’s nothing like that in the mountains where I come from.”

“There’s nothing quite like it anywhere. I told you, we choose sacred places.”

Tori turned again and disappeared from sight. I swerved the Yukon onto the shoulder and let the truck roll to a stop. “That’s a private drive she turned onto,” Val said “The lake is just on the other side of these trees. There’s nowhere else for her to go unless she plans to get in a boat. Wherever she was going, that’s where it is.” Val pointed toward the place where Tori’s taillights had vanished. “And that’s where you and I have to go, too.”

I shivered and rubbed my hands over my arms. All the bravado I’d gathered in Grim’s office earlier in the day drained away, and a cold lump had formed in my gut. “What if she knows we followed her? What if Grim sent her up here, suspecting we would watch them and follow their path?”

“What if he did?” Val asked. “What if this is all a great big trap?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time for us, would it?”

“The last time we were in this situation, you called Baldur and Thorin idiots for falling into it. Say the word, Solina, and we’ll turn around and go back.”

“Go back to what?”

Val shrugged. “You tell me. This is your adventure.”

I leaned away from him and furrowed my brow. “Like you don’t want that sword as badly as I do.”

A single eyebrow arched, and he shrugged.
Maybe I do, maybe I don’t
, his expression said.

I turned my gaze out onto the darkening road again. “You think there are apples anywhere down at the end of the drive?”

“Apples?” Val asked.

“They were in my dream. I encountered Tori and the sword in an apple orchard in my dream.”

“This
is
Washington. And the Cascades are apple-growing territory, so I guess it’s possible.”

“So, there’s a pretty good chance that by following Tori, I’m going to fulfill the events of my dream. Question is whether we survive it or not.”

“Did we drive all the way out here for nothing? When have you shied from a fight?”

I sucked in a big breath, blew it out through my nose, and threw open my car door. “It’s like cold water. We can stand here and look at it forever, and it won’t get any warmer, or we can just grit our teeth and dive in.”

In the fading light, Val and I found the driveway onto which Tori had turned.

“I should have brought a flashlight.” I closed my eyes to better focus on my internal power source. Over the past few months, I had learned my biggest conflagrations required the opposite of restraint—I had to abandon self-control. A subtle glow required focus, more application of self-discipline. I was good at subtle glows.

Val gasped. I opened my eyes to see what had startled him and realized I could see him because my candle-glow trick had worked.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

I shrugged. “What? This? This is nothing.”

“But I’ve never seen it, not like this.” Val’s eyes narrowed, and a hurt look crossed his face. “I’ve heard you and Thorin describe it, but I’ve only seen your flames, a small presentation of them anyway, when you were mad.” Val was talking about the time I had slapped him at the Aerie.

I stiffened my shoulders. “You earned it.”

Val stepped closer and put a hand to my face. “You’re right. I needed that lesson. You deserved better from me.”

I swallowed back a sudden welling of emotion and clenched my jaw. How was he so damned good at getting under my skin?

Val framed my face in both hands and leaned closer, our breaths intermingling. He still smelled vaguely of chocolate-chip cookies. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he said. “If it’s like your dream, it could be bad.”

I swallowed again and nodded.

Val pressed his lips to my temple—a sweet touch, not possessive and demanding but indicative of affection.

Maybe an old dog
can
learn new tricks.

Instead of desire or serenity, Val’s touch elicited a thundering rumble inside my head. The sounds of a distant, snarling beast filled my ears. And the cries of a man in horrible pain rose above it all. The accompanying images appeared smudged and blurry as if trapped behind a dirty windowpane. The vision showed me a man, bare chested and bound to a stone plinth. A wolf crouched over him, teeth buried in the pale, soft flesh of the man’s stomach. And blood. Everywhere blood.

As the vision faded, the man screamed again—a horrifying torrent of begging and pleading. I pulled away from Val and put my hands over my ears. Always, with Val, those intimate moments triggered dreadful sensations.

“What is it?” Val asked, struggling to keep me in his arms although I fought to get away, to escape the angry beast and a dying man screaming in my ears.

“These visions.” I fell to my knees, closed my eyes, and shook my head. “I never wanted to be an oracle. Never wanted to know other people’s horrors.”

“What did you see?” Val asked.

“A beast, snarling, snapping his teeth. And there was a man, screaming, dying. H-he…” I stopped, took a breath, and tried it again. “He was being eaten alive.”

Val choked and sank to his knees before me. His voice came out dry and raspy when he asked, “Was it… Was it Mani?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I know what Mani’s screams sound like. This wasn’t him. I’ve never seen this before. He said something, but he spoke in a language I didn’t understand.”

“What did he say?” Val put his hands to my shoulders and squeezed. “
What did he say?
”

“I-I don’t know. It sounded like, like, ‘
Nine brrotheer. Nine
.’ Over and over.”

Val dropped his hands from my shoulders. He rolled back on his feet, stood, and moved away, turning toward the trees at the roadside.

“Val?” I rose to my feet and reached for him, but he answered in a ragged and broken voice. “He was saying, ‘No, brother… No, brother, no.’”

“Brother? What was that? What did I see?”

Val inhaled, and the breath expanded his ribs and shoulders. He stiffened his spine and stood taller. Then he turned to face me, his expression inscrutable. “Something that happened a long, long time ago. It’s not essential to the here and now. I’ll tell you some other time, when there isn’t something more important to focus on.”

I nodded, accepting his explanation. In my research, I had focused on Idun’s apples and what they could mean about my dreams and premonitions. I hadn’t delved deeply into the more obscure legends, and my knowledge of Val’s purpose as Odin’s instrument of revenge against Hodr was rudimentary at best. Did the memory I just witnessed have anything to do with Hodr’s death? When I had thought, just a little while before, about what pains Val had suffered that would stay with him for an eternity, I had decided I didn’t want to know. Whatever I had just heard from the past, it was horrible, anguished, terrifying. If Val wanted to keep the details to himself, I might consider that a blessing.

Chapter Twenty-three

V
al and I skulked down a long pathway that ended before a large log cabin.
Log manor? Log estate?
Warm yellow lights shone from several first-floor windows, putting off enough glow to illuminate a deep wraparound porch. Beyond the rear of the house, the lake mirrored the cloudless night sky. A dark disruption in the reflective surface suggested the shape of a long, jutting dock. The darkness covered the details of the house and grounds, but its sheer dimensions suggested something grand and impressive.

“Jackpot?” I whispered.

“Turn off your glow,” Val said, his voice low. “I don’t want them to know we’re here yet. Let’s wait and watch for a while.” He took my arm and led me to the treeline bordering the yard, where we eased behind its cover. “How long before Skyla and the others get here?”

“The last text said they figured they were about half an hour out.”

“We’ll reconnoiter until they get here.”

“You think Tori and Grim will come outside and do some sword practice if we wait long enough? We’re going to have to be more proactive.”

“I just want to know if there are any surprises waiting for us.”

“I think Grim’s trap will be subtler than that.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

While we waited for Skyla and the others to arrive, Val and I crept around the property, hanging close to the treeline. No other cars accompanied Tori’s in the driveway, but we couldn’t check the garage without making a lot of noise—not that Grim needed a car to travel if he was anything like his kin. The exterior of the house and grounds remained quiet and dark, and blinds were drawn over the windows in the house, preventing us from looking inside. As the night deepened, so did the cold. My teeth chattered, and shivers trilled over me. We couldn’t risk my fire, or even my softest glow, but unless something happened soon, I thought I might march up to the house and start the hottest open-house party to ever descend on Mineral Lake.

“Last time I tromped around a lake in the dark, it didn’t go so well for me,” I said. “But I can’t wait much longer. The tension is killing me, and I really, really have to pee.”

Val snorted. “You want to go and ask Tori if you can use her bathroom?”

“If Skyla doesn’t get here soon, I might.”

I did end up squatting in a thicket of brush, and while I tugged my leggings back in place, Skyla finally texted,
We’re here
. I tiptoed back to Val and showed him my phone screen. He nodded, and we retreated down the driveway, heading to our Yukon. At the road, I lighted my internal candle again, and three gloomy figures emerged from the shadows to meet us.

“I take it nothing’s happened yet,” Embla said.

“Quiet as a graveyard,” I said. “We’ve watched the house. The lights are on, but no sign of activity. Haven’t seen Tori, Grim, or the sword.”

“Well.” Embla jutted her chin. “Let’s go knock on some doors. That bitch burned my Aerie. It’s time for a little payback. Solina, are you with us?”

“With you?” I asked. “I’ve been here, freezing my ass off in the woods, waiting for you to get here. Question is, are you with
me
? If we get that sword, what guarantee do I have that you won’t turn around and use it on me?”

Embla knitted her brows. “Skyla told us about your concerns. They aren’t unwarranted, and you’re smart to be wary, but we don’t intend to kill you. We want to protect you. You’ll just have to believe us, or you’re free to leave and go about your business on your own.”

Val stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. “She’s not on her own, and we’ve already made up our minds. We’ll stay, and we’ll fight.”

Embla processed for a moment. She bobbed her chin. “Good. Lead the way.”

We walked, without preamble or hesitation, down the driveway, through the yard, and onto the porch. Embla and Naomi peeled off from our group and scurried to the rear of the house.
What now?

Before I could put my question to words, Skyla pounded her fist against the door, a thunderous knock. “Tori Ito, we know you’re here,” she yelled. “Come out and face us. Don’t hide behind your pitiful little god.”

Skyla pounded on the door a few more times, but either Tori had decided to hide from us, or she wasn’t home. Skyla rattled the doorknob. “Locked.”

I looked at Val. “This is where you come in.”

Val huffed but complied with my request. He peered through a crack in the window blinds near the front door. The air popped in my ears, and he disappeared. The front door opened an instant later, and Val smiled and motioned for us to come in.

Skyla and Val fanned out through the house. I let Embla and Naomi in through the back-porch entrance. They took the upstairs while Skyla, Val, and I searched the downstairs.

“Clear!” Skyla called from her corner of the house.

I found Skyla in the living room and motioned to the kitchen. “It’s clear in here, too.”

Val returned from searching the other downstairs rooms. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Embla and Naomi tromped down the stairs and rejoined us.

“Nothing,” said Naomi.

“What game are they playing?” Embla asked.

Through the kitchen window, beyond the yard, somewhere on the dock, the sudden glimmer of a flame arced through the sky.

“Look.” I pointed. “I guess they’re playing capture the flag, er, sword.”

The flame waved, leaving a contrail of bright, burning plasma, like the color guard in a demonic high-school marching band.
Come and get me
, it said.

“If they want a fight, they’ll get a fight,” Naomi said, growling.

Skyla grabbed Naomi’s arm and stopped the Valkyrie from charging forward. “That’s what they want. They want us to go rushing out there, rash and unprepared.”

Naomi was the smallest of us all, but she wore the most vicious expression: teeth bared, eyes sparking with fury. She drew a long blade from a sheath at her hip. I had learned in my previous training at the Aerie that the Valkyries’ weapons carried an extra bit of power in the form of runes, gifted to them from Odin years ago. The Valkyries imbued their blades with the power of those runes, and it gave them the necessary edge to defeat mythological creatures. Perhaps even the gods.

“I’m not unprepared,” Naomi said.

“You’re talking about fighting a son of Thor,” Val said. “Grim might not have Mjölnir or Thorin’s other enhancements, but he won’t go down easily. There’s a reason the Viking berserkers worshipped Grim before going into battle. He got his battle rage from his father. You don’t stand a chance against him when he makes up his mind to fight. He’s a brawler, and he’s lethal with just his bare hands. He’s had to be because he has nothing else to fall back on.”

“But say we got lucky anyway,” I said. “You can’t kill Grim and expect there won’t be repercussions from the other Aesir.”

“Solina’s right.” Val squeezed my shoulder. “Thorin won’t take kindly to you poking lethal holes in his only brother.”

Naomi huffed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, I won’t try to kill Grim. Not unless he forces my hand.”

“Embla,” Skyla said, “if you, Naomi, and Solina focus on the fire sword, then Val and I will keep an eye out for Grim. He has to be here. He obviously lured us here.”

I pursed my lips at Skyla and huffed. “I thought you said I didn’t stand a chance against Tori and that I was a danger to myself.”

Skyla lowered her gaze and looked away. “I have a feeling your fire might be our best chance against that sword.”

“Glad we can agree on that.”

It wasn’t much of a plan, but we were armed and somewhat prepared. As long as Grim and Tori had the sword, and as long as we wanted to take it from them, they would have the advantage. I didn’t mean to let them keep it for long.

An arc of fire blazed in the distance again, tempting us like cheese enticing rats to the trap.

“Sometimes, you just have to take the bait,” I mumbled to myself.

Through the back door and out into the yard, Embla, Naomi and I moved toward the lake, tentative and wary but focused on the sword and its wielder. Val and Skyla hung back, anticipating Grim’s approach. We reached the dock, and I stopped to look back, to verify that Val had taken his place behind me as promised, but a cry of alarm and the sick
thwack
of battered flesh announced that something had gone terribly wrong.

Val cursed. Another, deeper voice barked out a harsh word. A crack was followed by another shriek that sounded like Skyla in pain. Someone cried out again, and a limp body flew through the darkness before splashing into the lake, beyond the end of the dock.

What the hell?

Skyla grunted, and I raised my fire. She and Grim were knotted together like Olympic wrestlers. He twisted and slammed her to the ground. Skyla’s head rocked back and cracked against the ground, and she fell still and silent at his feet.
Oh, God, no…
Val had tried to caution us, but his warning failed to adequately prepare us for the truth. If Val, a full-blooded Aesir, couldn’t stand up to Grim longer than he had, the rest of us had even less hope. We’d never really stood a chance against Grim, against a son of Thor whose ultimate weapon was his own two hands and an insane lust for battle.

My ears popped, and an instant later, a set of powerful arms wrapped around me and squeezed. I called out my fire and cranked my internal torch full throttle. Grim yelped and dropped me, and I turned to face him. In the circle of my light stood a large man who I might have mistaken for Thorin if not for the brutality in his face. Skyla had crumpled, lifeless, at his feet, and Val was gone.

Grim’s lips split into a sneer. Cruelty shone in the gleam of his teeth. Grim watched me with focused attention, possibly searching out my weak spots. I had them, for sure, but he wouldn’t find them without a fight.

“What do you want, Grim?” I asked, crouched in a defensive stance.

“Your death by Skoll is a great threat to my well-being,” he said.

Where had I heard
that
before?

“I survived Ragnarok once. I will not take my chances again.”

“There’s no mistaking whose brother you are.” Besides looking a great deal like Thorin, Grim also sounded just like him.

“Magni is soft. He has failed in his duty to his race.”

“But not you. You’re going to kill me and assure your perpetuity. That’s how your brother put it.”

Grim smiled, and his iciness brought goose bumps to my arms. “I am most certainly going to kill you. Just not right this minute.”

“You won’t touch her. Not now, not ever.” Naomi appeared from the darkness and moved into my circle of light. She had drawn her sword and pointed it at Grim.

“Put away your toy, Valkyrie,” Grim said, condescension thick in his tone. “You are my servant. You will do no harm to me.”

Embla stepped up beside Naomi. She raised her weapon, a long, dark blade the perfect length for throwing. “For too long we’ve been your servants. We have fulfilled your desires and demands at your whim—at the whims of all Aesir. In return, we have been used and discarded— shoved in a corner and forgotten. For centuries, we have trained and prepared. We held ourselves ready, but for nothing. The days when we were your servants, your
whores
, are over.”

I expected Embla’s words to outrage Grim. Instead, he threw back his head and laughed. Embla’s grip tightened. Naomi leaned in closer. Animosity and the promise of violence sparked through the air like static electricity.

“I have cared for you,” Grim said, “provided for your every need. I have celebrated your success, and in your despair, I gave you support. I have always been faithful to you. In return, you betray me.” Grim pulled himself up tall and straight. He threw his gaze into the distant darkness. “All have forsaken me, except one. Only she has remained true.”

A streak of light blinded us. The Valkyries cried out, and Embla threw her knife as a wall of fire erupted through the night, cutting between the Valkyries and me. Naomi shouted my name. I called to her, trying to reach for her, but the flames were too hot.

“Fight fire with fire, they say.” It was the voice from my dream—and it belonged to Tori.

No big surprise, but the fact she would turn on me like that stung my pride.

“Tori!” Naomi screamed over the roar of the fire. “Why are you doing this?”

Naomi lunged closer, ready to strike, but Tori swiped her weapon, Surtr’s sword, and sent a literal rain of fire falling over the Valkyries. They shrieked and fell back.

Tori’s attack on the others had absorbed her attention. Taking advantage of her distraction, I prepared to strike.

Grim understood my intent and called out, “Tori, watch it!”

Tori spun, and the sword vomited flames over me. I had yet to develop my ability into much of an offensive weapon unless someone stood still long enough for me to give them a bear hug made of fire, but my abilities provided for a pretty terrific defensive shield. I raised my fire and created a barricade, a protective wall that resisted the scorch of Surtalogi’s flames.

Voices yelled and cried out around me, but my own fight required all my concentration, and I had no attention to spare for the others. I let down all my walls and engaged Surtalogi fully, pouring out my flames. The sword took everything I gave and more. I pushed harder, fearing that I was treading close to the threshold between corporality and supernova star power, when I would convert to that
other
state of being. But that moment never came. The sword sucked away my heat and light until my well ran dry.

“Tori, that’s enough,” Grim said.

Tori turned the sword aside, throwing a fiery wall up between me and the Valkyries who might have helped me. I fell to my knees and slumped to the ground. A dark and bitter chill filled the place where my fire had lived. A void opened in me and drew me toward a frigid, bottomless abyss. I had nothing left with which to resist. Naomi cried out my name once and fell silent.

Strangely, the face I saw in the dimness of my fading consciousness wasn’t hers. No, in those last moments, my gaze fell on a shadowy figure standing in the gloom behind Grim, watching my defeat with a cold, detached expression.

I reached out and pointed, willing someone to turn around and see him—to verify he was real. But the darkness came, and I passed out, not knowing if I had really seen Rolf Lockhart or if my imagination had made him up.