Empty Altars (6 page)

Diana was well equipped to deal with Heid and witches, but giants? If she helped the Norse battle and lost, what then? Would she be tossed into some pit with Tyr, Donar, and Freya? Or worse, could she actually be destroyed in their idea of a fiery Ragnarok? Surely, some of her fellow gods and goddesses could be of more help. Athena, goddess of war and strategy, came to mind. Or maybe Mars—if he could get along with Tyr and Donar. Her brother, Apollo, would gladly come to her aid, but his disposition wasn't nearly as bloodthirsty as her own.

Freya seemed to sense her indecision. "We've defeated the giants many times. The Aesir and Vanir can deal with brute force."

"Good." Things were looking up. "I can deal with magic."

"We haven't been fair to you, Roman. You thought you were only sent to help. You didn't realize you'd be asked to risk your life for us. We ask a lot. Is it too much?"

As a matter of fact, it was, but what choice did she really have? Fight now, or fight later. The seer seemed to think that together, she and the Norse might win. "This isn't just your battle, or the runes wouldn't have sent me. It's my battle too, and Romans are no cowards." Diana stopped so abruptly, Inga bumped into her. Hands on hips, she turned to Freya. "But I'm sick of being called
Roman
. My name's Diana. Quit being so damned condescending. As Greeks and Romans, we conquered every bit as much of the world as you did, maybe more."

Freya's laugh rang through the wood. "We can learn to be friends, Ro…" She caught herself. "…Diana."

"I can summon more help," Diana offered. "Athena would come. Mars is a bother, but he
is
god of war."

"We're struggling enough dealing with one Roman." When Diana's eyes blazed, Freya quickly added, "No offense meant. But, if more were needed, your runes would have told you.
You
were sent to us, only you."

A sensible argument. Diana could find no fault with it. "Then it must be because of my magic."

"My thoughts exactly." Freya raised her arm in a salute. "To magic!" she cried.

"I'll send for my cat." If Diana was going to stay, she needed her familiar. Freya wasn't the only goddess who associated felines with magic. Diana had been whisked away too fast to bring Noir, and she'd hesitated to bring him when she thought her stay here would be short. She knew he wouldn't like the Norse lands. They were too rugged, too cold, but he'd have to deal with it. She needed him.

"You have cats too?" Freya asked.

"
A
cat. I think you started it. Egyptians worshipped them, but you made them part of magic. Why you couldn't have picked a more agreeable animal is beyond me."

Inga shook her head, bemused. She'd been walking behind them, listening in on their conversation. Now, she looked from one of them to the other.

"Spit it out, girl" Freya said. "You can't be shy. What worries you?"

"How are you two going to stay together? The hut's only one room. You bicker more than Griswold and Gudrun."

"We'll be fine," Diana assured her. "It will work."

"There's only one wooden bench to sleep on."

"Not anymore."

Inga stared. "We haven't been gone that long."

"Greeks like their luxuries. What can I say?"

"Did you send for things from your world?" Freya's voice bubbled with enthusiasm.

"No, Mount Olympus."

Freya clapped her hands together in excitement. "We're going to learn a lot from you, aren't we?"

Diana's tone turned teasing. "Probably not. Norse are stubborn, but let's enjoy ourselves while we can. Warfare is serious. It doesn't have to be uncomfortable."

Freya laughed. "I can hardly wait to see what you've done." She hurried her steps, and Diana decided that goddesses of love and beauty could all be swayed by luxuries and indulgence. She, however, was goddess of the hunt. Amenities had their place, and she enjoyed them, but life was a harsh mistress. The strongest and the best could fall.

Chapter 5

When they stepped into the small glade, Inga gasped. The hut had been razed to the ground. White columns stretched from both ends of a marble temple, forming two outdoor porticoes. Not practical in the north, but pleasing to Diana's eyes.

"A temple?" Freya asked.

"I like the design and the thick, heavy walls. And marble floors."

"With porches?"

"I’ll be gone before winter." Diana had no intentions of lingering in the Norse lands any longer than she had to.

She hurried into her new home. Two rooms greeted her. The first held a round fireplace in its center, a wooden table and chairs, and a small sitting area. The second contained three beds with stuffed, feather mattresses. No gilt ceilings or murals. Nothing extravagant. Simple elegance and comfort. Diana's style.

Fruit spilled over the edge of a large, wooden bowl on the table—apples, figs, pomegranates, and grapes jostled alongside thick circles of cheese. Loaves of bread beckoned from a cupboard shelf, joined by a myriad of amphorae—the airtight, ceramic vessels Diana preferred to store wine.

Inga blinked, dazed. "Who did this? How?"

"I
am
a goddess." Diana waved a hand. "I have my ways."

Freya turned to study the surroundings too. "Lovely. Someday, I'll have to invite you to my hall in Folkvang. I think you'll like it."

With a nod, Diana reached for a clump of grapes. "I'm thinking that since Gudrun sent Inga to this place, it's protected. Am I correct?"

Freya took a handful of figs and bit the end off one of them. "Mmm, good." She motioned toward silver, cat talismans nailed to trees around the clearing. "When Inga was shunned, her tattoo protected her from mortals. Olaf combined his magic with mine to smith the cats. No enemy can pass them.”

“Hungry animals?” Diana asked.

“Anything that would harm her. But our magic together isn't as powerful as yours."

"Olaf?"

Inga answered. "A dwarf who lives in our village. He has the magic of his kind."

"Enough to ward off Heid?"

"Until now, yes. But since Heid has a coven? I don't know," Freya admitted.

"I've seen Heid's coven. Not goddesses. What are they? Half-goddesses maybe?" Diana knew all about the indiscretions of the gods. Greeks were known for them. Jupiter, alone, had produced more than enough progeny, causing his mortal partners worlds of grief when Juno grew jealous. She assumed Norse gods were no different.

Freya nodded, acknowledging her suspicions. "I doubt Heid's working with mere mortals, and no goddesses would join her."

Inga looked relieved. "Then it can't be that bad. Half-gods have only half your powers and gifts, right?"

Diana and Freya exchanged glances. "I'm thinking of Hercules," Diana said. "We couldn't have defeated the Titans without his help. Half-gods can be dangerous enemies."

Freya added, "Our gods occasionally reproduce with giants."

"With your enemies?" Diana couldn't hide her surprise. “No god would mate with a Titan.”

"Some giants have saved or birthed us."

"So it's complicated." Diana unsealed an amphorae and poured herself wine. "Care for some?"

Inga sniffed the red liquid and shook her head. Freya took a small sip and pushed the goblet away. "I prefer mead."

"Sorry. Don't have any."

Freya smiled. "But you will." She turned when she heard a horse approaching. "Here it is now."

The three women walked to the door. A god galloped into the clearing, riding a horse with eight legs. Diana gaped. She knew it was ill-mannered, but she'd never seen such a creature.

"Woden's horse," Freya explained. "He sent Hermod with supplies for me."

Hermod moved with such speed, he reminded Diana of her friend, Mercury. It took no time for him to store Freya's goods in their marble home and wish them farewell. "You do us a great service, staying here—all of you!" Hermod called as he rode away.

Inga looked from Freya's drinking horns and jars of mead to Diana's wines and cheeses. Eyes wide, she said, "I've never seen so much food and drink."

"What have you lived on all these years?" Diana asked. Inga didn't look like a hunter. How had she survived?

"Nuts, fruits and berries, and lots of bread. I have eggs from the chickens, milk and cheese from the goats." She blushed. "Gudrun makes Griswold supply me with dried meat twice a year, because she says I'm important."

"You are important." Freya tossed an arm over her shoulder. "We're a team. What's ours is yours."

"But I'm a mortal. I'm shunned."

"Get over it," Diana said. "From this moment forward, you're our apprentice. You'll protect your village with white magic." No worry that Inga might turn to the dark arts. The girl couldn't wring a chicken's neck to have meat.

Inga spread her hands helplessly. "You keep saying that, but I have no gifts, no talents."

"Wrong, or Gudrun wouldn't have chosen you." The seer must have sensed something in the girl that Diana didn't. She seemed too timid to wield much power. "But you need to know that by joining us, you're putting yourself in danger." Diana would rather level with Inga than skirt around the issue. "Heid will try to destroy you before you reach your full potential."

"I had no life before, anyway."

The girl had a point. Diana turned to Freya. Greeks liked strategy. It was time to lay some plans. "What now? I'm here. There has to be something we can do besides sit and wait." She'd go crazy watching for signs of Ragnarok like Tyr and Donar did.

Freya's answer was so fast, Diana knew she'd been thinking about their next move too. "Can you do a reading? Will the runes give us more answers?"

"The trick is to ask the right questions." Diana reached for the pouch in her jeans pocket.

Inga hugged herself and inched toward the door. "I should leave. Runes make me nervous."

"It's wise to hold them in respect," Freya said. "If you're going to learn magic, though, you have to learn them."

Inga cringed. She hesitated, playing with the ties of her corset. At least, she didn't bolt. Diana gave an inward sigh. The girl sure wasn't embracing her new powers. Teaching her magic strong enough to challenge Heid was going to be no easy feat. In fact, nothing about the Norse land had proven easy so far.

Chapter 6

Diana and Freya crowded around their wooden table. Inga hovered slightly behind. Diana didn't push her. The girl would learn, one baby step at a time. She tipped her pouch, emptying all twenty-four runes into her cupped palms. Inga gasped at the collection of dried bones.

“What’s that?” Inga asked.

“A piece from a bobcat's jaw.” It jostled against a shard of human pinkie—a remembrance of Hippolytus, one of Diana's favored few.

“And that?”

“A ragged piece of deer rib—Actaeon's—a reminder of my shame.”

Inga’s eyes widened in surprise. “What shame?”

“My temper. Death was probably too harsh a punishment.”

“For what?”

Diana shrugged away the answer.

Freya reached for a smooth slice of bone. “And this?”

“A slice from a boar’s tusk, the Calydonian beast I sent to ravage a countryside—the king
did
deserve that.” She pointed. A different symbol of the runic alphabet was carved on each one.

Freya frowned in bewilderment. "You have an odd collection. Twenty four bones from different things?"

"Each one's special," Diana said. The tip of a hellhound's tail nestled near a chunk off the Minotaur's hoof and part of a Cyclop's eye socket. Diana rubbed her thumbs lovingly over them, feeling their brittle surfaces and absorbing their energy. "Together, they’re powerful. Nothing can match them. Now, for our question.” She emptied her mind of everything around her and concentrated on what she wanted to ask. “How will we battle Heid and the giants?" She repeated the question in her mind before she tossed the bones.

They scattered across the wooden surface, forming jumbled patterns. Over half of them landed upside down, their carvings impossible to read. They had nothing to tell her. The bones that landed in the center of the table held the most relevance. She stooped to study a clump that formed a triangle—a hare's foot, a big toe from Otus, and a disk from the spine of his twin, Ephilates. Once she concentrated on the three runes, they sang to her. She tilted her head to listen to their music. As the melody filled the room, colors swirled in the air, and visions rose.

Colors bled into one another, murky and grim. Gray skies brooded across the ceiling. Muddy browns stretched into a vague line of spiked logs. A ribbon of color spanned the air between Diana and Freya, flames dancing across its surface—the rainbow bridge. Scarlet flowed between the village and bridge, forming a river of blood.

Inga pressed closer to Freya. She gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. Diana couldn't blame her. Diana dipped her fingers into the coppery red hues. When she lifted her hand to sniff it, Inga scrunched her eyes shut and turned her head.