Dead Embers (33 page)

I spun around and was on my knees, lifting Aidan off the
bed, before I knew what I was meant to be doing. He spluttered and gagged as I
lifted him, coughing some more before taking in a few hacking breaths.

Then he turned and looked at my face.

"Bryn?" His eyes held surprise and doubt, and also
joy.

The whispered sound of his voice was better than music,
better than chocolate. I couldn't answer, just laughed and hugged him hard.
Then, with a shock, I froze.

I'd forgotten his injury.

I let go of him as if he were a coiled adder, ready to spit,
remembering the stab wound that Loki had inflicted on Aidan.

After thrusting the fur off his body, I lifted his
chainmail, searching for the wound, panic stuttering my movement. I gasped.
There it was: purple and yellow and looking so awful, and yet it looked pretty
good for a wound that should have killed him. Aidan coughed again and batted my
hands away. "What are you doing?" He scowled, which I most
inappropriately thought was quite the hot bad-boy look.

"Can you be still and stop being such a baby? I need to
check the wound," I scolded, holding in the tears of joy, infinitely
relieved when not a drop fell from my eyes.

He lay back with a pained sigh. "How bad is it?"

"Pretty good, actually. How do you feel?" I
searched his face for signs of fatigue, weakness, anything.

"Like I've been asleep forever," Aidan grunted.
"Bloody hell, my breath stinks."

I laughed. "That would happen, considering you've been
asleep for weeks."

"Weeks?" He snorted, disbelief and confusion
clouding his eyes. "Just keep your distance. I'd rather not have you
fainting on me."

"Wow, a guy who doesn’t want the girls fainting on
him?" I arched an eyebrow, stilling a wave of giggles. "So, apart
from nuclear breath, do you feel anything else? Sore, tired?"

He shook his head, which sent a cascade of silky curls
caressing his shoulders. His hair had grown. I forced myself to look away. Now
was not the time to make goo-goo eyes at the patient. "Nope," Aidan
said. "Everything is working perfectly. I just feel a bit tingly all over.
Was I really out of action for weeks?" He paused for a short moment to
scan the room. "Er, Bryn. Where the hell am I?"

I almost choked. "That's exactly where you
are—Hel."

Aidan looked confused, and I didn't blame him. Freya's
lodgings were very un-hell-like. "You're in Helheim. Freya's been caring
for you, trying to purge the poison."

"Poison?"

"Loki stabbed you. You do remember that, don't
you?" Aidan nodded. "But Loki had poisoned his dagger with the venom
of the same serpent who tortured him in Hel. We aren't sure who he'd intended
to stab, but in the end he got you."

Aidan remained very silent while I spoke, his face
eventually losing all color. When I finished talking, all he said was, "Mm
. . . on second thought, I think I do feel a tiny bit nauseous."

Panicked, I scanned the room for some sort of receptacle in
case he did spill his guts. I rushed to fetch a small basin from the table at
the door and returned to place it beside Aidan. My hands shook, and I just
couldn’t meet his eyes. I was terrified.
What if the elixir was doing him
more harm than good?

***

A rustle of movement made me snap my gaze to the door, and I
had to force myself to control my reaction as Freya—elegant, sexy and drop-dead
gorgeous—glided into the room. A scowl creased her usually serene face, and I
knew I was in trouble for being mean to poor Astrid. I gritted my teeth and
rose as the goddess approached.

"Brynhildr, I see you have shown a great disrespect to
my hospitality." Her words were shards of ice: cutting, unforgiving.

"I apologize, my lady. I had to defend myself, and if
Astrid received a few wounds in the battle then it's only fair, considering
she
is the one who picked the fight in the first place."

I hadn't meant to be so forthright about the whole battle,
but what was I going to gain by being quiet and keeping the truth of Astrid's
behavior a secret? Besides, I was tired of always being the one everyone
blamed. I wasn't inclined to help Astrid's cause at all.

Freya frowned but said nothing. She scrutinized my face, her
expression hard to read. Unsettling. Freya then turned to the doorway as if
expecting Astrid to enter. Was she hiding outside the door waiting to hear me
reprimanded? I wouldn't have been surprised. She'd proved herself the spying
type once already. I so did not trust her.

Aidan coughed, then retched behind us and I turned to race
to his side, but Freya stopped me with a warm, gentle hand on my arm. "No,
Brynhildr. Leave him be. It is the way of the elixir. It acts as a purge and
flushes out the potions from the body. Take care not to get too close, as the
poison is still very virulent."

I crossed my arms, unsure what to do with them, feeling very
impotent as we stood so far from Aidan, just watching. He bent over the bowl,
fingers gripping the rounded edges. He retched, then spewed forth a bright
green liquid, the emerald poison sloshing into the bowl.

I gaped, too horrified to be disgusted. Too filled with
fear. What if the poison re-infected him? What if the elixir didn't work in the
end? I closed my eyes, gripping myself harder, so terribly afraid that I would
see him die at the hands of Loki's poison despite all that we went through to
save him. And worse, if Aidan didn't make it, then Steinn's poor daughter might
not survive the elixir either.

Forcing myself to open my eyes, I watched the emerald-green,
almost gelatinous liquid spill from Aidan's mouth. The poison had filled his
body, every drop of blood tainted with its deadly toxicity. And now his body
rejected it with a bruising force. Purged the poison through the magic of the
elixir.

"So it's working?" I asked Freya, my voice
cracking.

"Yes, child. You have done well. The elixir is almost
done with its task."

I blinked. Praise from Freya was not something I had ever
heard before. I cleared my throat to mask my shock. "How long before he's
well enough to leave?"

"As soon as he has purged the poison, he will need a
short rest. Then he can leave," she answered, a tight smile on her face.

As she turned to the doorway, a dwarf entered the room. The
sight sent a trill of consternation through me, until I realized he wasn't of
the Swartelfheim princely variety. He kowtowed to Freya and nodded to me, then
headed toward Aidan, who still leaned over his puke-filled basin. Aidan looked
like he was about to tumble right off the bed.

I hesitated, then glanced back at Freya. "Thank you, my
lady." After everything she'd done to us, I wasn't entirely certain why I
thanked her, but it seemed appropriate, at least for her hospitality. Or maybe
even for the care her servant now gave to Aidan, wiping his face with a wet
cloth, changing his shirt, checking his wounds.

Freya smiled. "And you can rest while he sleeps. There
is no need for you to sit at his bedside." More amazing than Freya's words
was her expression—one of kindness.

Talk about a split personality problem.

My eyes flicked to the doorway. Sure, I had a pretty good
reason why I would want to keep a very close eye on Aidan. More to the point, I
wouldn't want to close my eyes for too long while down here on Astrid's turf.

"I will show you to a room where you can rest and
freshen up," Freya said. She inclined her head, brooking no argument, and
I forced myself not to do a double take.
Since when was Freya so concerned
about my health and well-being?
But even the thought of a soft bed and
food, and maybe a bath, didn't tempt me to leave Aidan alone again. And Freya
knew. With a haughty curve of an eyebrow, she said, "Would it make you
feel better if I stayed with Aidan?"

I stared into Freya's glittering eyes.
What game are you
playing this time? What sort of trickery are you planning?

Or was it just a simple challenge? How dare I suggest that
the goddess Freya was unable to keep her promise to look after Aidan?

I peeked over at Aidan, who now lay back on his bed, his head
supported by a soft pillow of fur, his eyelids fluttering closed as exhaustion
took over his spent body. The dwarf waddled out of the room with the soiled
clothing and the bowl.

"It's okay. A room and a bed sounds fabulous." I
tried to inject an acceptable amount of enthusiasm into my voice, tacking on a
smile.

Freya nodded, and as if answering his mistress's silent
command, a very thin, very tall man stepped into Aidan's room.
Honestly, how
do these guys know exactly when she needs them to appear?
"Show the
Valkyrie Brynhildr a room and make sure she gets garments, food and rest."

The man nodded, his expression solemn. Although the
instruction had been one of hospitality, I still detected an ominous tone.

Come on, Bryn, enough with the melodramatics. You're just
too tired. And way too suspicious.

Lurch beckoned and I followed for a few steps, then came to
a sudden halt. The goblet. "Just a minute," I said, rushing to
retrieve the cup from beside Aidan's bed, still half filled with the priceless
liquid.

Freya raised an eyebrow again, this time curious. "Ah,
I see there is still some of the elixir left."

I cleared my throat, ready to put up a fight if she so much
as looked at Siri's share of the magical cure. "Yes, but it belongs to
someone else."

Freya's eyes narrowed. "Oh, and who might that
be?"

"Lady Tyra of Muspell. The rest of the elixir is for
Siri, her granddaughter, who is afflicted with the same poison." Freya's
eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but she covered her loss of composure very
well. Not well enough for me, though.

She held my gaze, and I didn't quite trust that gleam in her
eye. But then she surprised me. "So I assume Tyra would want the elixir as
soon as possible?"

"Yes, of course. I'll give it to her as soon as I
return to Asgard." My heart tightened, eager to find out if the elixir
would save Steinn's little girl.

"Is she in Asgard, then?" Freya pinched back a
little smile.

"Yes, when Odin brought me here, she was still in his
hall."

"Very well, then. Let us be going. I shall take you to
give Tyra her elixir." I opened my mouth to protest, not keen to leave
Aidan right away, especially not with Astrid probably lurking out in the
hallway. "Do not worry child, I shall bring you right back." She held
out her hand, beckoning me to her. Freya nodded at Lurch, who tilted his head
in a tiny bow.

I stepped closer to Freya's side and held on to the goblet
as a cool breeze swirled around us, picking the long strands of my hair up and
slapping my face with them. I shut my eyes, which was probably a mistake; it
made the swirling wind and the churning of my stomach feel a million times
worse.

In mere seconds, I felt the pressure of solid ground beneath
my feet as we materialized in Odin's Hall. I took a deep breath, relieved to
see Odin and Frigga at the dais, deep in discussion with Tyra. The frequent
smiles, the odd touch of an arm, revealed a camaraderie that made me curious.
Guess they were old friends or something.

All three turned to watch us enter, each face displaying a
similar look of consternation. Then Tyra's worry morphed at once into a
brilliant smile. Surely she was not
that
pleased to see me?

No, of course not.

Beside me, Freya grinned back at Tyra. The dragon
matriarch's pleasure was for none other than the ice goddess herself. And oddly
enough, Freya looked lovely. The pleasure on her face transformed her usual
empty beauty into something too stunning for words.

Freya's voice rang warm, filled with delight. "We
thought it would be best to bring the elixir to Tyra now rather than wait until
Aidan is fully rested."

Odin nodded and smiled, clearly pleased at the decision.
Tyra stepped forward and embraced Freya as if the two were buddies from their
schoolyard days.

I barely heard their chattering conversation amidst the
shock thrumming in my ears.
Wow. Freya and Tyra are friends?
Good
friends, given all the laughter and the hugs and the high-pitched reminiscing.
I was more astonished that Freya was capable of maintaining any kind of loving
relationship, much less one that could instill the kind of warmth and pleasure
now emanating from the usually cool and fastidious Grand Lady Tyra of the
Nidhogg. My widened eyes met Odin's amused one, and he winked as he watched the
little reunion.

At long last, they were done hugging each other, though not
before I realized that Freya had only brought me to Asgard so fast because she
wanted to see Tyra herself. I tried to analyze how I felt about that. It didn't
take me long to figure that it hardly mattered why Freya did what she did. I
gave a mental shrug. As long as she took me back to Aidan soon, I could be
happy for her.

Maybe.

Not that I would ever forgive her for playing with Aidan's
life and forcing me to traipse across America and charge into Muspell just
because of her stupid vanity. And now, here she was giggling away as if she'd
done nothing wrong.

Okay, people. It's great you got to see each other. Yeah.
But I want to get back to Aidan, you know.

They broke apart and Tyra turned her eyes on me. Good thing
I hadn't begun to tap my feet with impatience.

"Brynhildr, I am sorry. Freya and I have not seen each
other in centuries." She threw another warm glance at Freya, whose face
could definitely do with that particular brand of happy smiling more often. She
looked so lovely that even I began to smile. "I must thank you, Brynhildr.
You have done Steinn and Siri and myself a great service. Please remember you
can always call on us if you are ever in need of help." She placed her
hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes with a gentle warmth in her gaze,
like a honeyed embrace. The golden sheen in her eyes told me she meant every
word.