Empty Altars (8 page)

Noir padded into the clearing. His unblinking glare told Diana how happy he was to see her. He stalked forward and stopped a short distance from her feet. He sat and raised a paw. He began to lick it, ignoring her.

Freya stared in shock. "Your cat has quite the attitude!"

"This animal belongs to you?" Tyr watched Noir, appalled.

"
Belong
would be too strong a word. He's my familiar, a witch's cat."

"Are your cats this ill-mannered?" Tyr looked to Freya.

"I'm goddess of love and beauty. They're enchanted to serve me. No, mine are lovely companions, a joy to spend time with."

"Well, aren't you special?" Diana's voice dripped sarcasm. "Noir and I are perfectly suited. Aren't we, feline?"

Noir raised his other paw, engrossed in cleaning himself.

A scowl of disapproval etched Tyr's forehead. Noir raised his eyes and met Tyr's disdain with a look of his own. Then he arched his back and hissed at him before going to Diana to thread himself around her ankles.

Jorunda's jaw dropped in surprise, but Tyr laughed. "I like this beast!"

Diana stooped to pet his sleek, black fur. "So do I. Our temperaments match."

"I can see that."

Diana's head snapped up, her hazel eyes blazing, but when she saw the amusement on Tyr's face, she knew she was being teased. She grimaced. "I should send him home. He'd be safer."

"You should both leave." Tyr leaned forward to make his point. He was so tall, he almost touched her.

"Why are you Vikings
always
trying to get rid of me?"

He took her hand in his. "It's one thing to risk your life for us. It's another to endure giants. It's asking too much. Go home."

"Are you giving up?" Diana wiggled her hand free. "Are you going to Asgaard to hide so that you're not chained to your tree and tortured? Are you going to cower and let the giants do as they please with mortals?"

"We're their gods. It's our job to protect them."

"You're not their gods. The only humans who even remember you live in this meadow. Strike a deal. Give Heid and the giants whatever modern lands they want. Keep you and your meadow safe."

He stared at her. "Would you do that?"

"Hell no."

He grinned. "Didn't think so. Neither will we."

"Then let's quit quarreling and decide how to win this." Diana glared at her wrists and ankles. "I don't much care for chains. I like running through the woods or Central Park."

"Central Park?" He frowned.

"You wouldn’t like it. They have public bathrooms and electricity."

"Someday I'll have to visit there."

"It's too soft for you. Didn't I hear that you Vikings grab your weapons and fight all day in Valhalla? Then you eat and drink and screw any beautiful women who happen to be hanging around."

He shook his head. "You make us sound like barbarians, but we're preparing for the final battle."

"What for? You already know you'll lose."

"We don't give in without a fight. It's not our nature." He leaned closer, face to face. She could smell his strength, his masculinity. "But what about you?" he demanded. "This isn't your fight. Why are you staying?"

"I don't have anything better to do, and it will annoy Noir. He took his time getting here. He deserves it."

Tyr's laughter echoed off the trees. "You're as stubborn as we are, Roman. Admit it."

"No one's more stubborn than a Norseman."

He shook his head and took another gulp of beer. Then he grew still, deadly serious. "I admire your courage, but I can't let you do this. I'm asking you to leave."

"If I leave, you fail. Gudrun said so."

"We might fail anyway."

She pushed herself to her feet, angrier than she expected, jamming her hands on her hips. "You just don't get it, do you? This isn't some battle between you and your old enemies. If they defeat you, they'll grow stronger, and they'll go on a rampage. Do you really think that any gods would have a chance of stopping them then? If you fall, we all fall—mortals and gods and goddesses together. The runes didn't say the giants would capture me here. They said they'd capture me if you lose this battle. I'll become their prisoner in this world or my own if you don't stop them." She jabbed a finger at him, eyes blazing. "Is that what you want?"

"No." He put his head in his hands, unhappy with both of his choices. He looked so wretched, Diana's fingers itched, tempted to reach out to comfort him, but that was too intimate. What would his mate think? What would
he
think? She plopped down on her bench again, pushing her hands under her legs to pin them in place.

Everyone waited. Finally, he looked up, his massive shoulders stooped in resignation. "So, tell me what you saw. Jorunda and I need to know what we're up against."

Diana nodded to Freya. A knot tightened her throat. She couldn't talk. She let the goddess explain the runes' messages. She sat back and sipped wine, letting her mind wander. What was wrong with her? Why did she care what this god thought? Why did she care if he suffered? She needed to concentrate on big issues. They needed to win. She had no intentions of becoming a prisoner of war, especially to some ugly ass giants. When Freya finished telling Tyr and Jorunda what the runes showed them, Diana focused on the conversation once more.

"What do you make of these prophesies?" Tyr asked her.

"We can win. We have to protect the village at all costs, and we have less than a month to defeat Heid." Diana looked across the clearing to the forest that separated their marble home from Griswold's holdings. "Heid will have thrown her runes too. It only makes sense that she would, but she strikes me as sloppy. She'll know the major events—that if the village falls, she wins, and that if she can stall for any length of time, we're doomed. So she'll focus on the same things we will, but I’m hoping she didn’t look at the outer runes and know about the gift we'll receive or the three riders on horses. They might seem insignificant, but the runes say they’ll make a difference."

"Our main job now is to protect the village," Tyr said. "We need Donar to protect the bridge. He's fought and killed many giants, and Heimdall will sound the horn if enemies approach, but I'll stay with Jorunda. If something happens, we should be able to hold off enemies until we get help."

Jorunda looked surprised. "You'd live among mortals?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

Jorunda lowered his gaze, embarrassed. "I meant no disrespect."

"Warrior, if your chieftain showed half the bravery and integrity you do, I'd do cartwheels across the meadow."

Diana's goblet of wine stopped midway to her lips. "I'd like to see that."

"It will never happen. Griswold's an idiot," Tyr said.

Inga and Jorunda's jaws dropped in unison. Tyr and Diana looked at each other and laughed. Freya's expression turned thoughtful.

"What?" Diana asked, misreading her concern.

A tiny smile played on the goddess' lips. "It's nice to have some joy after the runes. I've never seen bones like yours or such readings."

"True," Tyr said, thoughtful again. "Maybe Heid can't see as much as you do. Your magic is more powerful."

Diana hoped so, but she knew the witch had seen enough. They'd better prepare.

Chapter 8

"Where do we start?" Tyr's mood shifted to practical matters.

Diana turned to Freya. "How protected is this clearing and Griswold's village?"

"Anything you add will help. Olaf and I tried, but seidr magic only deals with shape shifting and astral projection."

Diana stared. "And you didn't think those were worth mentioning?"

"They haven't proved that useful against Heid, and they take a long time to teach." A seductive smile curved Freya's lips. "I tutored Woden in them, though. An excellent student."

Diana caught the innuendo. "You slept with the king of your gods?" she asked, amazed.

"For a time. We learned from each other. Your magic is more practical, though, more deadly." Freya yawned. She raised her arms above her head in a slow stretch—a sensual, lanquid movement like Noir's, completely natural. "I've had too much excitement lately. It's wearing me out. No more mead for me."

"Did you make anything besides the cat pendants?" Diana asked. "Anything to ward off Heid or the giants?"

"The talismans strained the extent of my resources. All Olaf and I could manage were the necklaces for farm families outside the village and silver cat pieces to nail onto trees around this clearing and on each corner of Griswold's log fence."

Diana had heard stories of dwarves' smithing skills. Olaf's talents must be respectable, but she wasn't sure how his magic worked. "Olaf's cat medallions have protected Inga for five years, right?"

"No animal will enter this clearing to harm her. Neither will an enemy, including Heid."

Effective enough, up until now. Diana frowned. "How did a dwarf come to live with mortals? I thought they had their own land."

"Olaf had to leave Nidavellir, his home, when another dwarf's wife became too enamored with him," Jorunda said. "He fled here. I consider him a close friend. He's been good for our village."

By his tone, Diana realized that Jorunda held Olaf in high esteem. He obviously respected the dwarf more than he did his chieftain. When Jorunda spoke of Griswold, it was with a sense of duty.

Diana looked at Freya. "What exactly do the talismans do?"

"They keep enemies at bay and reflect Heid's energy."

"Have you tested them?" Diana wondered who volunteered for that job. She wouldn't want it. What if the wards weren't powerful enough?

"A farmer's daughter annoyed Heid, refused to hand over the eggs and milk she'd collected one morning, and Heid tried to zap her to take them. Her energy bounced off the girl, and when her brothers—wearing their necklaces—came to her aid, Heid stomped away in a snit."

"If Heid and her coven combined their powers?"

Freya shrugged. "It hasn't happened, but I doubt the pendants are strong enough to withstand that much energy."

Diana turned her attention to Tyr.

"I have little knowledge of these things," he admitted. "I use my sword to protect mortals."

"Is there more we can do?" Freya asked.

"We should arm each warrior with a necklace," Diana said. "If they square off against a witch, it will protect them. And the three of us will chant spells. Mine can't be broken."

"How strong are you?" Tyr was eager for definite answers too. "Will mortals be safe from Heid’s attacks?"

"Nothing's that foolproof, but I can protect them from most black magic. Giants are another matter."

Tyr patted the sword that hung from his belt. "Might, we can deal with."

"Then let's get started." Diana turned to Inga. "You need to learn chants. The rowan will help. The trees are sacred. With my magic and theirs, your magic will awaken. And we need parchment to write down what you learn."

"You're going to write chants down? What if someone captures them?" Tyr demanded.

"I'll protect them. Only Inga and Freya can read them. If anyone else opens the pages, they'll go blank."

"You can do that?"

Diana sighed. "I
am
the mother of magic. You Norse are still cutting your teeth on beginning spells."

"You're truly a rare individual." Tyr's expression filled with wonder.

Her pulse quickened. She could feel a blush burn her cheeks. Drat the man! "Compliments will get you nowhere. We have work to do."

"Threats don't faze you. Neither do sweet words of praise. You're a difficult woman, Diana."

"Goddess—and don't forget it. Now go away. We
women
have things to do."

Tyr rose to his full height—an impressive specimen of manhood. Diana gnawed at her bottom lip again. Much better than licking her lips and drooling, but he caught her expression and grinned. "Too bad you're a maiden goddess. I've been alone a long time."

Her heart skipped a beat. "I thought every god and goddess in Asgaard had mated." The minute the words left her lips, she wanted to smack herself. How eager did that sound?

"I mated once when I was young. It was a casual coupling." His voice darkened. "When I lost my hand, I lost much of my appeal to her."

Dear Zeus! It only made him more desirable in her eyes, but she looked away. She was succumbing to foolishness. "We have a battle to win. Too much is at stake to fritter away time." She caught Freya's knowing expression and frowned. "Don't even think about it." She knew how much Venus enjoyed any type of romance. The Norse goddess of love and beauty would be no different.

A mask of innocence settled over Freya's features. "My every thought is on war."

A deep chuckle escaped Tyr as he turned to leave. "We'll see you in one week," he rumbled. "Gudrun will make sure of that."