Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (17 page)

“Need help?” a voice suddenly came from the doorway.

It made Arvid jump so violently, she hit the corner of the sink hard with her hip. The pain brought tears to her eyes. Through the blur she saw the slender figure of a dark-haired woman standing in the doorway.

Arvid blinked away the tears and groaned. “My god, you scared me. What are you doing here?” She tried to stand straight again and clutched to the edge of the sink.

The woman at the door chuckled. “What do you think?” she asked. “It’s the washroom. I’ve had a long journey. And what are
you
doing here?”

Her mocking tone angered Arvid. “I’m trying to braid my hair,” she said irritably and turned directly to the woman, “but it just won’t work!”

As their eyes met, Arvid stopped short. She had the intense feeling of having seen this woman before, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t remember where or under what circumstances. She was wearing a thick braid like a crown around her head. Out of it thick, nearly black curls fell over her shoulders and back, just like young shoots of a vine. She looked anything but average. Her almost sharp-featured face was dominated by a long, straight nose; her lips were narrow and dark. She had dark brown, alert eyes and was breathtakingly beautiful.

“You’re staring at me,” said the woman eventually.

Arvid felt herself blushing. “I… I’m sorry. Do I know you… from somewhere…?” she said haltingly.

“No,” said the woman. She pushed away from the door frame and held out her hand demandingly. “Agility really doesn’t seem to be one of your strengths. Give me the comb, your hair’s a disaster.”

Arvid obeyed automatically and sat down on the stone bench in front of the sink. The woman began to comb her hair, ruffled from Arvid’s failed braiding attempts. She worked quickly and not very gently, but Arvid kept quiet, even if it tweaked. She could feel that the unknown woman made several braids at the sides. Her heart suddenly began to beat faster, and a strange, tingling, but very pleasant feeling spread through her stomach. Arvid wanted to say something, but she couldn’t think of anything, and so she just sat there quietly.

When the woman was finally finished and Arvid stepped up to the mirror, she was amazed. At her forehead and along the hairline she had three thin braids that ran back over her head, where they were joined into a larger braid.

“Thank you,” Arvid said, stunned. “You’re really good at that.”

In the mirror Arvid saw how the woman behind her raised an eyebrow. “It’s really not that hard,” she said, amused. “You’re just exceptionally clumsy. Now hurry up—maybe you’ll at least manage to be in time for the opening speech.”

Arvid was so befuddled that she wordlessly left the washroom. When she finally left the school building, Borgarr’s speech had already begun. On the forecourt, a big crowd of people had gathered, which in front of the huge, highly blazing fire only could be seen as black outlines with long, dancing shadows. Nobody noticed her.

Arvid went slowly around the crowd, looking for her friends, but couldn’t see anyone. After a while she stopped resignedly, trying unsuccessfully to catch some of Borgarr’s speech, despite the loud crackling of the fire.

After the speech was over, a broad-shouldered man stood and raised his voice. Once again Arvid was unable to understand a word of it. She was so cold that her teeth chattered. Quietly swearing she buried her hands in her armpits and hopped on the spot to warm up a little.

Suddenly Arvid felt observed, and almost at the same time she heard a faint cough behind her. When she looked around, she saw the figure of a tall man behind her, who held out a blanket. He could only be seen as a dark outline, on which the distant glow of the fire threw a moving pattern.

“This can take a while,” he said, when Arvid made no move to take the blanket, “and I might be mistaken, but you seem to be freezing.”

Arvid now took the blanket. “Thanks,” she said, wrapping it around her shoulders. “What are you doing back here? Don’t you want to hear the speech?” With narrowed eyes, she tried to see more of her counterpart, but the light was too bad. He was slender and long-haired, but his age was impossible to guess in the wild flickering of the fire.

The man shrugged. “It’s the same every year. I’m just here out of a sense of duty.”

“You don’t like festivals?”

“I dislike inconsequential speeches and superstition,” the man replied contemptuously. “And fire. But the rest of the festival is quite amusing.” He folded his arms behind his back and turned directly to Arvid. “I hope I may venture to say that your hair looks very nice—very artistic.”

For a moment, Arvid was taken aback by this remark. “Thank you,” she finally managed to say. “I’m… Arvid. May I know your name?”

Her counterpart grinned. “You know me,” he said. “I’m Loke.”

“Loke!” Arvid exclaimed. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”

“I’m used to that.” There was no mockery in his voice, but it was impossible to tell if he was serious. “We’ll talk later. I have… something to do.”

He turned around and left. Arvid watched as he disappeared into the dancing shadows. Meeting him back here was probably the last thing she had expected. He was a god—why wasn’t he with the others? Up front at the fire, she saw the tips of a handful of lances that certainly belonged to the guards of the other gods present.

On the way back inside Arvid finally met Thoke, Aleri, and Enild again and joined them. The hall was almost unrecognizable. The air was filled with music, loud voices and the clatter of dishes. People were laughing, shouting and trying to find friends and acquaintances at the big tables. Employees were running around, filling jugs with beer and wine.

They found seats at a table near the rear, elevated part of the hall, where a separate table for the gods and masters had been placed. Arvid discovered Borgarr, Aeldjarn, and a handful of other teachers, next to two gods called Ull and Lanfei, as Aleri told her. Along the walls stood guards in white tabards, just as they had during Thor’s visit a few weeks earlier. There was no sign of Loke or the red-haired stranger though.

It was hard to talk with all the noise. They had to speak very loudly and often lean far over the table to understand each other. A thick, pipe-smoking man next to Arvid constantly laughed so loudly and resoundingly that she had to repeat every second sentence. Nevertheless, Arvid had to admit that she was enjoying herself. Thoke’s stories from recent years, especially, made them laugh. Only Aleri seemed tense and constantly looked at the clock, because she couldn’t wait for the dance to begin. The seventy-seventh hour, it finally happened. The music stopped. Borgarr stepped forward and raised his hands to ask for silence, which wasn’t even necessary. No sooner had the musicians stopped playing, all heads turned around to him.

“Distinguished gods, students and guests,” he announced, “it is my honor and pleasure to see you here tonight, to eat with you, drink and celebrate. Enough deplorable and sad words have already been said this evening, I will therefore be brief. We have experienced difficult times, but we have not been beaten, and we have mastered the challenges together. Now it’s time to look forward and enjoy the pleasures of life anew. I wish you all a pleasant festival!”

He made a gesture toward the table behind him, and Lanfei and Ull rose to open the dance. Some of the guests began to clap, but their applause was drowned by the rousing music that started playing now.

Of course, Aleri was among the first on the dance floor, and soon afterwards Enild had also disappeared. Arvid glanced at the clock and then poured another cup of wine.

Twice she was asked to dance, but she refused both times. She was glad to be able to converse with Thoke, who seemed to share her distaste for dancing. The closer the ninety-third hour came, the more restless she was. She kept wondering whether the redhead would really turn up and what he had to tell her.

Eventually Enild showed up and persuaded Thoke to dance with her. As soon as they were gone, three men with beer mugs sat down on the free seats, so Arvid scooted to the very edge of the table and felt a little alone.

When she looked over to the clock again, she discovered Nod, who was on his way through the crowd and finally sat down at the other end of her table. Arvid waved at him, but he didn’t notice her in the turmoil.

Eventually she heard excited voices somewhere near her. The table shook violently when a woman stood up with an energetic jerk. Quickly Arvid grabbed her cup to keep it from tipping over.

“Outrageous!” cried the woman before she walked away, closely followed by a second, who also looked rather mad. Arvid leaned forward curiously and peered down the table. To her surprise, she discovered a familiar face. It was the dark-haired woman she had met in the washroom. Across from her sat Nod. It looked as if the two knew each other, even though Nod looked anything but happy.

“In two hundred and eighty? No, it’s much longer ago,” Arvid heard the woman say. “At least ninety years. The company was clearly better back then.”

Not only Nod, but also the smoking man diagonally opposite of her, who had laughed constantly earlier, threw her dark glances. The woman didn’t seem impressed at all, though. On the contrary, it looked as if she was enjoying herself just fine.

“The new regulation is clearly a mistake,” she said in a nonchalant tone. “All those pig farmers and shoemakers that suddenly appear there—not that I don’t like pigs or shoes, but… people like that simply don’t belong in such a place. They lack solid education.”

“You should choose your words more wisely,” said a man next to her, whom Arvid couldn’t see properly. He sounded angry. “I’m also pig farmer and think I could very well fill a seat in the City Council.”

“I always choose my words wisely,” the woman replied coolly. “Just because you feel offended doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

The man growled angrily but didn’t reply, instead blowing a puff of smoke in the air. The fat man opposite set about lighting his pipe anew. What happened next left Arvid speechless.

The woman reached across the table, took the man’s pipe from his hand and knocked the tobacco into an empty bowl in front of them. “You smoke too much,” she said without batting an eyelid. “An apple would do you well. You’re getting a little wide around the middle.”

For a moment, the man stared at her, dumbfounded, his hand still in the position in which he had held his pipe. Then Arvid could almost watch as his face turned red and his eyes darkened with anger. Nod, who was sitting right next to him, noticeably ducked his head.

“What a cheek!” the fat man shouted so loudly that several people turned around to him. “When and how much I smoke is entirely my affair!”

“Not as long as you blow your stinking smoke in my direction,” the woman replied calmly, “and spread your foul breath over my table.”

“Your table!” roared the man and jumped from his chair. “I was here first, and I won’t let a brazen woman like you offend me!”

“You don’t say?” the dark-haired said defiantly, waving with his pipe. “What do you want to do about it?”

The man tore the pipe out of her hand with such a violent movement, the whole table shook and the dishes rattled loudly. “I’m warning you!” he thundered. “You better guard your impudent tongue, or…”

“Or what?” the woman interrupted him mockingly. “You don’t really want to use those fat, smelly fingers to beat a woman whose body you secretly desire.”

Arvid could see Nod turning several shades paler. The man next to him was furious with rage. His face got, though Arvid wouldn’t have thought it possible, even redder. For a moment she really thought he would strike—but he didn’t. With a violent swing he swept the cups and jars from the table, so that they clattered and crashed. Beer and wine splashed and foamed.

“May the demons take you!” he yelled, turned and stormed off. The other man with a pipe, sitting between Arvid and the dark-haired, rose after a moment and went off also.

Arvid could feel the looks which rested on them, although the music still played and the incident quickly drowned in the general tumult of the festival. Her heart was beating wildly. She still couldn’t grasp properly what had just happened.

Two employees came running and started to mop up the spilled drinks. Arvid rose automatically and helped pick up cups and dishes. Only now did Nod look at her directly. It was obvious that he felt embarrassed, even though he himself didn’t have anything to do with the incident.

When the table was cleared again, Arvid hesitantly sat down beside the dark-haired woman. She still didn’t know what to make of her behavior but decided to take a chance. Nod didn’t seem too enthusiastic about Arvid’s decision. However, the woman just smiled at her, as if nothing had happened at all.

Nod cleared his throat. He looked from the woman to Arvid and back again. It seemed as if he was about to say something, then he hesitated.

“Arvid, that’s… my patroness,” he finally said.

“Oh,” Arvid said in surprise, then she turned to the dark-haired and bowed her head. “I am glad to make your acquaintance. What is your name?”

“That’s the second time you’ve asked me that tonight,” the woman said with amusement.

For a moment Arvid looked at her blankly. There was again this intense feeling of knowing her, but this time it went deeper. All of a sudden it was so clear and obvious that Arvid wondered how she ever had been able to overlook it.

“You are Loke,” she blurted out.

“I guess I can’t deny that,” said the woman.

“How did you recognize him?” Nod said incredulously. “Only shapeshifters can recognize others regardless of their shape.”

Arvid shrugged.

“Don’t be silly,” Loke rebuked him. “It’s a gift that also occurs in non-shapeshifters.”

“But it is extremely rare!”

“Not among gods,” said Loke.

An employee brought two new pitchers of wine. Loke took one of them, before he could even put it on the table, and filled her cups. Arvid didn’t object, but took a long drink. She felt pretty messed up.

“So you’re patron of two students,” she said then. “I suppose Nod knew about it?”

“Of course,” Loke said. “Why do you think I have him? He should keep an eye on you. You know… take care of my investment. He’s not good for anything else anyway.”

“Take care of me? By staying as far away from me as possible?”

Loke sipped some wine and looked at Arvid in amusement. “I have forbidden him to make friends with you; that would have been too obvious. Nevertheless, he was always near you. You may not always have noticed him because he… well, looked different.”

Arvid threw Nod a help-seeking look. “But… here at school all shapeshifters have to…”

“I like to take liberties with rules,” Loke interrupted.

For a moment, Arvid was speechless. Of course it had been easy for Nod to stay close to her and watch her, if he used an unknown shape. Arvid had rarely felt so betrayed.

“So you had him watch me all the time?” she asked in disbelief, then turned to Nod in sudden anger. “How could you?” she asked. “Since I got here, you’ve been eavesdropping on me in secret? Do you really think that’s all right?”

Nod swallowed. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Loke said, “He had no choice. This favor you owe me… it’s very important.” He turned to Nod. “Bugger off, I don’t need you at the moment.”

Stunned, Arvid watched Nod without hesitation rise from his seat and leave. She didn’t know what shocked her more: that Loke commanded Nod around like a dog, or the fact that he didn’t seem to mind at all.

When they were alone, Arvid turned back to Loke. “Just so you know,” she hissed, “just because you pay for my studies, I will not dance to your whistle and take orders like some valet!”

“Just like Nod, you mean? Of course you won’t. All I expect is that you keep our trade.”

“I will keep my promise. But I dislike how you treat Nod.”

“I can live with that.”