Giants of the Frost (43 page)

We were locked together at the lips; she grunted, I held firm. My breath came back, then hers grafted onto it. She shrieked in the back of her throat as I inhaled slowly and gently. Her breath tasted foul, like old mud and rotting leaves, but I drew it in, gasp by gasp, until my lungs shook. She struggled, she clawed at my face. I pinned her to me, my fingers digging into the rough, damp clothes she wore. Her grasp grew weaker, her breath thinner, her cries softer.

Abruptly, her struggling stopped. Her eyes rolled back and she fell off me and hit the floor with a thud. I gasped and sat up, fully awake, coughing and choking. The ordinary control room was restored. My eyes were watering and my lungs felt like rock. I glanced down to look for the hag, but saw nothing. No. I saw a little pile of dust and rags.

I slid to the floor and poked at the pile. It smelled the same as her breath: mud and leaves. I gazed at it, astonished, for a few moments while I regained control of my lungs.

"Oh, my God, I think I killed her," I whispered in the dark.

I brushed the dust and rags into my hands and went to the door, sliding it open with my foot. I released the bundle off the edge of the observation deck and watched the wind carry it away to the north, then sagged against the railing. I realized I was sweating. The fear? Or something else? I checked the digital thermometer on the glass. Twenty-nine degrees.

"What?" I gasped, tapping the thermometer. A misreading, surely.

I dashed inside and switched all the instruments and computers back on. Barometric pressure falling rapidly. Thermometers going out of control. The wind direction reading blinked and wouldn't settle. I stepped out on the deck again and dropped a piece of paper. It blew to the south, in a different direction to the dust I had let loose just two minutes before.

Then, a sound to send electricity to my heart. Thunder, far away. The thermometer now read thirty-two degrees. That afternoon, it had been twenty degrees cooler. I glanced all around me. Lightning shivered under the clouds. The wind picked up in the treetops, tearing them one way, then the next. The weather had gone mad.

III

No one should speak with certainty of what is possible for people in love.

—
Oddrúnargrátr

[Asgard]

On the fifth morning of her stay at Loki's house, Aud woke cold.

She had not returned to Gammaldal to spend her time alone. She feared that the emptiness created by Vidar's love for another would slither inside her and break her heart. Instead, she had found an uncertain solace in Loki's cool arms. He still treated her like a servant; but he was affectionate and sympathetic and teased her only gently, instead of savagely. Aud had been content as far as contentment was an absence of suffering, then the fifth morning had come.

It was not a coldness of the skin and bones, because she was buried deep under blankets next to her sleeping lover and it was midmorning outside. It was a coldness of the heart, as though a cup of icy water had been trickled into her veins. Dread, dark and chill as the grave, descended and she said his name aloud in a gasp.

"Helgi."

Loki stirred next to her. Aud rose and dressed, shivering with fear. Something was wrong with her son; she sensed it in her heart the way that a wolf senses a thorn in her paw. Although forbidden from practicing her Vanir magic, the sensitivity of spirit she possessed was still keen. Helgi was certainly in danger and she could not be still until she knew what that danger was.

"Aud? You haven't stoked the fire." •

"I must go."

"Go where?"

"Home. To Gammaldal," she lied, hoping her hair falling forward as she pulled on her shoes would hide her flushed face.

"I thought you liked it here."

"I've been here long enough. I must prepare for Vidar's return."

"I see. And will I get a good-bye kiss?"

Aud had no time to banter with him. "I have to go," she said, and stepped out into the cold morning. Mist lay in the valley and the trees were dim, bent shapes that seemed to mirror her own dread. One foot in front of the other, she started her long journey to the World Tree. Past deep cliff faces that still ran with the previous night's rain, past a thousand mossy trees and rocks, and all the whispering shadows between them. As the mist lifted and the weak sunshine glanced off her cheeks and dazzled the corners of her eyes, she drew closer and closer to the edge of Asgard. The panic twisted up inside her, pushing her forward, forcing out a periodic helpless sob.
Helgi, my Helgi
. If she were with him, as a mother should be with her child, she could protect him from any danger.

That wasn't right, though, because she was the one who had led him into danger in the first place. She was the one who had placed him on Steypr's back, had not managed to hold the reins. Accidents are forgivable in others, but there are no accidents for mothers; only heinous carelessness. Aud paused at the crest of the rise, gazing far out over the waving grass plains of Vanaheim. If she just kept walking, another half a day's journey, she could see him in the flesh, rather than the pale, teasing pictures in the enchanted crystal. But the consequences were too great. So she descended the stairs and crossed the valley, wound into the intestines of the World Tree and eventually came to the Norns' abode.

"Aud? We were not expecting you," Verda said, glancing up from her loom.

"Helgi," she said, falling to her knees in front of Verda. "I must see him. I have an awful foreboding." Skuld tut-tutted as she spun, but did not forbid it. Verda fetched the brooch and passed it to Aud, who huddled over it with her heart in her throat. The mist swirled, then the image formed, and Aud cried out. Helgi, lying on blankets near a fire, eyes closed, skin pale and sweating. Thuridh knelt next to him, weeping. His skinny chest rose and fell, but he was insensible to the world. Mímir was a shadow in the doorway, hovering, uncertain as all men are at births or deaths.

"He is ill!" Aud cried. "No, no. He is ill and he is dying!"

"He is not dying," Skuld said.

"He is! He is near to death and here am I so far from him." She collapsed forward and sobbed. A cool hand touched her neck.

"Aud," Skuld said, "look up. Listen to me."

Aud sat up, gazing at Skuld while sobbing breaths shuddered in and out of her lungs. Skuld rarely left the distaff.

"He is not dying," Skuld said.

"Skuld!" Urd called. "Don't you tell her anything."

"She's not allowed to know," Verda echoed.

Skuld crouched in front of Aud and touched her hair lightly. Her pale eyes were serious. "He is not dying, and he will be well in three days." She held up three narrow fingers. "He will be well and Thuridh will laugh about how she wailed at his bedside. He will wake from this fever and ask for honeycakes. Your son will not die this day, or the next. Your son will be well."

Urd and Verda made irritated noises.

Relief spread through Aud's body. "In truth?"

"I can speak nothing but truly," Skuld said, rising and returning to her distaff.

"Why don't you just tell her everything?" Urd said sarcastically.

"Yes, why stop now?" Verda said.

"Hush, you two. You know I hardly ever open my mouth. , Trust me to be wise with my tongue." pi Aud palmed tears off her face and bowed her head.

"Thank you, Skuld. Thank you."

"Thank me for this advice, Aud. That little boy is lost to you. You ensured that on the day you came to us and made your bargain. Helgi is not your child to mind, to fret over, to keep well and happy. Accept this and you will find some peace." She shook her head as she returned to her work. "I've a good mind to break that brooch."

"No!" Aud cried, clutching the brooch against her chest.

"I won't let her," Verda said. "The brooch is mine because you made the bargain with me."

"Can you not see it makes matters worse for her?"

"At least she only sees the present in it," Urd said, "rather than laying out the future as you just did." They quarreled for a minute and Aud gazed again at her pale, sick son and reassured herself that he would be well.

"Aud, I hope you understand what I have told you today," Skuld said.

"I have," Aud said, nodding, "but I don't know if I can accept my lot so easily." Verda held out her hand and snapped her fingers. "The brooch, please. We are busy. Come again in a few weeks. Bring us flowers and something that smells like sunshine."

Aud reluctantly handed Verda the brooch and stood up. Skuld gave her a stern glance but Aud couldn't help smiling in return. "I am sorry to have disturbed you," she said.

"On your way now," Urd muttered.

Aud weaved back through the maze, mulling over what Skuld had said.
That little boy is lost to you
. How could he be when his blood still sang to her blood? How could she ignore a presentiment like the one she had felt this morning?

A sound up ahead made her stop and catch her breath. Normally the passages were silent. It had sounded like a small rock, dislodged by a careless step. She held very still and listened, heard a scuff. Somebody was in the passage.

"Is there somebody there?" she called into the dark.

"Only me," came a mock-frightened voice in return.

"Loki?" Her skin prickled. Had he followed her?

Aud heard the sound of running footsteps and hysterical laughter disappearing ahead of her, and realized that she had accidentally revealed to Loki the home of the Norns.

Loki was two hundred feet ahead of Aud all the way back. If she ran to catch up, he would run too, calling insults and laughing wildly. Finally, she lost sight of him in the forest north of Gammaldal. She slowed her pace and sat for a moment in the grass, gazing above her. The dying embers of the day glowed around her and birds soared overhead on the way to their warm nests. She had a sense that everything important had been stolen from her control, that she had no choice but to surrender to whatever dread thing would happen next. She sighed and leaned her head against a tree trunk, and let a few tears fall for everything she had lost.

Loki detached himself from a shadow and stood in front of her. "Have you given up?"

"Given up what?"

"Our game."

"I don't know of which game you speak. Perhaps it was not a game to me."

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked, and he seemed genuinely puzzled.

"You lie to everyone. Why do you deserve honesty?"

"You are a bad girl, Aud. You are full of secrets, and I didn't know. I thought you were just full of Vanir ill manners." He crouched next to her and dipped his head to look into her eyes. "What did they hold over you that you kept it secret from me?"

"I need no reason to keep a secret from you."

"But they do hold something over you?"

Aud dropped her gaze. "Yes. An image of my son."

"Only an image? That's all they give you, with the power that they possess?"

"That's all."

"So it puzzles me that you hid them all this time. They are nasty old hags and they owe me."

"Loki, if you go to them, they will take away my last link to Helgi." He shrugged. "I heard Skuld's lecture and your pitiful weeping. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing."

"It means something to me!" Aud shouted, flinging out her arms. "Do you care nothing for how I feel?" Loki sat back on his haunches. "There's a temper."

"Don't mock me," she said, rising and heading toward home.

Loki scrambled to his feet and came after her. "Am I not your friend?"

"I don't know. I don't know if you're my friend, or my lover, or my master, or my torturer."

"You trust me so little?"

Aud paused to look at him. "Are you making a joke? What reason have you given me to trust you?"

"I love you, Aud," he said.

"No, you don't," she scoffed, taking to the path again. "What rubbish."

"Yes, yes, it's rubbish," he admitted. "I don't love you. But I do like you. At this moment I like you more than anyone else in Asgard, and that's something."

"If you like me, you'll stay away from the Norns." They were emerging from the trees, and the deep slope near Vidar's house fell away before them. Night had closed in and the first light of the stars glimmered. The carved crossbeams above the gable were silhouetted against the deep sky.

"Now, how can I promise that? I have been hunting for them for so many long years. The hags
owe
me, Aud. Why shouldn't I have what I'm due?" He glanced at Vidar's house. "Come home with me, Aud. We'll talk about it some more."

Aud wavered. Perhaps she could convince Loki not to collect his debt. Perhaps it was possible that he liked her enough to be considerate.

He leaned close to her ear and licked her face. "Come home with me, Aud," he repeated. A sound from the east attracted her attention. They both snapped their heads around as Arvak galloped toward the house, Vidar on his back.

"Vidar," she whispered.

"Oh, dear. Not him again." Loki seized her wrist and pulled her close. "You won't revert to pining away for him, will you? Not now you've been with me?"

"He's my master," Aud said, attempting to wrench herself away. "I haven't even prepared the house for his return." The last few days now seemed like a very bad idea.

Loki released her and pushed her forward. "Go on, then. I see it in your face. You're a bitch in heat when he's around."

"I'll come again soon," she said, mindful of the power that Loki held over her.

"I'll make sure of it. It's time I negotiated with Vidar for your company." He urged her forward. "Let us greet him together."

They met Vidar returning from the stables. Aud's breath wedged in her throat to look at him again, dark and serious, his eyes wild. Something troubled him.

"Vidar? I'm pleased that you've returned," she said.

Vidar looked at Loki without greeting her. "What are you doing here, cousin?"

"Aud and I were out for an evening walk together. We weren't expecting you." Vidar gave Aud a wary look.

"I have been at Loki's the last week," she said. "I haven't prepared for your return."