Dead Embers (34 page)

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Authors: T. G. Ayer

BOOK: Dead Embers
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It was difficult not to want to run away, faced with the
kind of gratitude and happiness that Tyra displayed. I guess I just wasn't used
to people appreciating me that much. I blushed. "Thank you, Lady Tyra. I'm
glad I could help. Perhaps someday, when she's well, I could meet your
beautiful granddaughter?"

"It is done. But remember, we will always be there for
you if you need help. You still have the eye?"

I nodded, the warmth still permeating the skin on my cheeks.
"Yes, it is safe."

"Very well, then. The eye will always be a way for you
to communicate with me. Just hold it in your hands and I will know you need
me." Tyra pulled me into a warm embrace. At first I remained stiff, unsure
of what to do, surprised by this new Tyra. Her burden had lifted to reveal a
motherly warmth beneath the cool temper and the fiery anger of the dragon
matriarch. Then I hugged her back with equal warmth, holding the goblet
carefully.

When she released me, I placed the goblet in Tyra's hand,
grinning.

"The goblet belongs to you, Brynhildr. When the elixir
is finished, I will send it back to Asgard."

I shook my head. "Keep it. It will give me a reason to
come and visit you."

She smiled and nodded as if that was the best idea ever. Our
sudden friendliness felt slightly surreal, since the woman had, not so long
ago, threatened to kill me.

Tyra and Freya said their goodbyes, and I tried not to
listen as they promised to see each other more often and not let two centuries
pass without having some girl time.

Then, back at my side, and with a quick nod to Odin and
Frigga, Freya whisked me back to Hel.

***

As soon as we arrived in Freya's Hall, Lurch glided in
through the already open doors.
Again with the mind reading?
He
beckoned, dark hair falling and framing his ancient, crinkled face. Freya had
already turned her back and walked off, dismissing me without a backward
glance. So easy to believe that I'd only imagined the joy I'd seen in her eyes
just minutes ago.

I went quietly with Lurch, no longer worried about Freya or
the goblet and its precious contents. Now, I just needed to worry about Aidan.

Lurch led me into the passage and made to walk past Aidan's
room. I glared at his departing back as he didn't bother to check what was
keeping me.

I cleared my throat and said, "I'll just check on
Aidan. . . ."

Lurch kept walking away, and I didn't bother to stop him. I
knocked and opened the door just enough to poke my head inside. The smile on my
face fell when I saw Aidan's sleeping form. He looked so still lying there. But
the rise and fall of his chest comforted me. Yes, he was just asleep.

Fast asleep from the looks of it.

My heart clenched as I shut the door. Although really
disappointed, my emotions still soared. Aidan was going to be fine.

I took a shuddering breath and tamped down tears, which rose
in an unexpected wave of pure emotion. Blinking back the moisture in my eyes, I
hurried after Lurch down a corridor lined with flickering torches. We
approached a carved door, unusual in that its pale wood gleamed with an almost
marble texture. Lurch opened the door and stood aside, waiting for me to enter,
his eyes focused on his feet. My curiosity at his over-subservient manner
lasted only until I was hit by a sudden vision of him waiting for me to enter
the room and then rushing to lock me in, trapping me in Hel forever.

I choked back a panicked laugh.
Bryn, you are a bloody
idiot. Scare yourself to death with your crazy imagination.

He waited, silent, as I studied the beautiful wood-paneled
room, the high timber roof struts, everything so similar to my own room in
Asgard, except that the rich mahogany walls rippled with carvings of waterfalls
and sprites.

As I walked further into the torch-lit room, the stone floor
emitted a deep, bone-searing cold, and yet the room felt comfortably warm. On
the left side, set into the floor, a pool of clear water bubbled. Black rock
glistened in the light of the torches as water brushed against stone in little
wavelets created by the constantly moving bubbles. Steam rose from the surface,
and I sighed.

"There are towels beside the pool and a change of
clothing on the bed, my lady," Lurch said from the doorway. He bowed—and
swiftly rose a good few notches in my estimation.
My lady, indeed.

"Thank you." I smiled at him, but he just stared
back at me, his wrinkled face expressionless. What was he waiting for? Before I
could ask, a pair of dark-haired dwarfs marched into the room bearing trays of
food. Enticed by the delicious aromas, my stomach rumbled softly, but neither
of the stiff-faced food-bearers seemed to have heard. They didn't look at me;
just plunked the trays down on a mahogany table.

Looked pretty much like nobody smiled in this realm. Other
than Freya and Astrid, of course, and, well, their particular brand of happy
smiling people left a lot to be desired.

The dwarfs left without even acknowledging me, but I
couldn't have cared less. All I wanted was for them to be gone so I could dive
into the hot pool. Lurch bowed again and shut the door. It didn't take long
before my coat and armor lay in an untidy pile on the floor. I dove into the
water, submerging myself all the way to my neck.

The heat and the bubbles massaged my sore muscles, and I
groaned with pleasure. Laying my head against the stone ledge, cushioning it
with a small soft towel, I breathed out the day. I thought of Aidan, sleeping
off the effects of the poison, of Mika and her betrayal of her father and of
our wasted friendship, of Siri who'd soon return from her coma and be able to
hug and cuddle the two people who most cared for her. I thought about Astrid
and her attempts to avenge some ancient disagreement, and about Freya's
unexpected generosity. And I thought about Joshua, who would have to heal his
broken heart.

I remembered, too, that I had a job waiting for me. Two
jobs, actually. Warriors kept dying from that awful black goop, a poison that
was thinning Odin's army, steadily making his forces too weak to guarantee a
victory at Ragnarok. With Aidan now on his way to recovery, we could get back
to Midgard and help in every way possible. And we could find Brody.

How long had I lain in the water? I couldn't say. I only
dragged myself out of the delicious heat when I almost fell asleep in the pool.
Better to get out before I drowned myself in one of Hel's hot pools.

Later I fell into the bed, sated by the delicious food,
thirst quenched by a goblet of Mead and way too relaxed by the heat of the
pool. And my last thoughts lay on the one person I'd risked everything for.

As I fell into a deep sleep, a sound echoed in my mind and
in my heart.

A sound so intrinsically part of Aidan.

A motorcycle echoed in my dreams.

***

The next morning I rose, rested and calm. I dressed in a
hurry and trotted to Aidan's room. A painful little flutter in my tummy
revealed the doubts I'd had last night. Could I really trust Freya? What if she
had taken Aidan away from me again? Or what if Astrid had hurt him somehow?

Blood thundered in my ears as I grabbed the handle. I
would've just walked in, but I stopped myself. This was Aidan's room, and he
wasn't an invalid any longer. I didn't think he'd welcome anyone just barging
into his room. So I knocked. And waited.

The hollow pounding of my knuckles on wood echoed inside the
room and up and down the passageway, and when he didn't answer, I began to
worry. Was he okay? Would I find him lying dead from the elixir gone wrong?

Shut up, Bryn, it's been only a few seconds. Relax.

Too many moments later, the door finally opened and Aidan
stood on the other side of the threshold, the shadow of his beard darkening his
chin, his pale shirt all rumpled. He looked well. Fine. Healthy. My heart
thudded faster, and my eyes filled with tears just like that.

He reached for me, closing me in his warm arms, and I shed
my tears against his chest. I tried hard to stop crying, but the harder I tried
the longer I cried. Everything just came crashing down on me. The memories and
the pain replayed in my mind, starting with the look on Aidan's face when I
told him how he'd been killed, execution style, bullet in the middle of his
forehead. Killed by his own father's thugs.

I remembered the way he blanched when I told him the truth
about Freya's demands and the awful curse she'd placed on his life if I didn't
return with her necklace in time. The look on his face when I lay beside a
stinking dumpster, shot in the abdomen by his father's goons, making a bloody
mess on the filthy concrete.

And I remembered that kiss.

The one we'd shared in the transfer room when we'd arrived
back in Asgard from Muspell, the one that told me how much he cared despite
everything that had happened to us, the one we shared only minutes before Loki
stabbed him with his poisoned dagger.

Everything flashed through my mind, and Aidan just held me
until I was all cried out.

"Okay now?" he asked when I’d finally gone silent.
And the gentle softness to his voice made me want to start all over again.

I took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, and you? How
are you feeling?" I cleared my throat and stepped away from him. I
suddenly needed a bit of distance from his arms and his warmth.

"As good as new." His eyes sparkled as he grinned.
I stared at him, suspicion rising in an invisible tide. I knew that look.

"Been into the Mead, I see?" I raised an eyebrow,
trying not to laugh.

"Yup, it's delicious." He winked and strode to his
bed, where a low table had been set up. "Want some?" He held up a
goblet.

I laughed, joyously happy to see him well. "Why the
hell not?"

I shut the door and plonked myself down beside him, taking a
goblet of the divine golden milk of the goat Heidrun. Amazing stuff. Cotton
candy delicious, filled with healing magic and a sparkle of happiness.

We sipped in a happy, comfortable silence. Which made me
want to cry all over again. I snorted silently, pretty disgusted with this new
crybaby Bryn.

"So you saved me, hey," Aidan said. "You're
pretty good at keeping your word . . . for a girl." He grinned, and I
elbowed him in the ribs. Then I gasped in horror. His stab wound. "It's
fine, Bryn. It's all healed."

I frowned. Not too long ago it wasn't healed at all.
"Really?" I didn't try to hide the fact that I found that pretty hard
to believe.

He nodded. "Yup."

"Let me see."

He shrugged as if to say
have at it
. I did, pulling
his shirt up to reveal the healed edges of the wound. His skin was back to a
healthy color, with no sign of awful purple and yellow. I let the fabric fall.
"Wow, that's something, isn't it? I just looked at that last night and it
was hideous and raw."

"Hideous, you say?" He stifled his laughter,
trying to look offended.
Gee, Aidan, you so need to brush up on your acting
skills.
Then he sobered in all of three seconds. "So fill me in."

I didn't need to ask him what he meant. I launched into my
tale, briefly running over everything that had happened since Freya left me on
the floor of Odin's hall, covered in Aidan's blood, listening to Loki's
laughter. I even brought him up to speed on the black Warrior-killing goop.

"Woah, you don't waste time, do you?" Aidan's eyes
went wide. They widened further when I told him about Astrid's little stunt
when I'd arrived with the elixir. "You mean she actually tried to kill
you?"

"Pretty much wanted to slice me and dice me. And it
wasn't the first time, so I didn't have much trouble believing she wanted me
dead. She did put up a fight, though." But I hadn't wasted time in showing
Astrid who was boss. I remembered the hatred that glowed in her cold eyes as
she sat on the floor of Freya's Hall, defeated.

"Well, she'll know not to mess with you again."
Aidan threw an arm around me. The furs beneath me reminded me that we were
sitting on Aidan's bed. I smiled a small sad smile. The last time we'd sat
together on his bed and talked had been back home in Craven, the night Brody
died. The night my whole world had slowly begun to crumble.

Another comfortable silence passed, in which more Mead was
drunk and in which the heat generated from our thighs, as we sat so close
together, became almost unbearable.

I wriggled, intending to move away from him to give us both
some space, but somehow I found myself within the circle of his arms instead.

No time or action or intention made sense in that moment as
he lowered his head and captured my lips with his. This heated meeting of lips
was filled with promise. Not only the promise of entwined arms and racing
pulses, but also of longing and loneliness, and of sacrifice.

This time, it was I who was lost in him, lost in the heat of
his lips and the feel of his living body beneath my searching fingers. It was
so good to have him back, healthy and alive.

I couldn't say who pulled away first, or why. But we did.
Eventually. I looked away, straightened my hair, patting it neatly just to make
use of my jittery fingers.

Aidan cleared his throat and broke the silence with the best
response ever. "So when do we leave?"

"Just say the word."

"Okay then, what are you waiting for, Valkyrie?"

Chapter 37

 

Freya delivered us straight into Odin's Hall, and we arrived
amidst the shadows and the dust motes. The goddess inclined her head to Aidan
and then to me: a regal farewell. Then she shimmered into nothingness, becoming
part of the shadows in the blink of an eye.

I barely registered her departure as I turned to Aidan to check
on him. These god-guided Bifrost trips were not easy on the body, and he had a
strange, almost drunken expression in his eyes.

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