The Valhalla Prophecy (16 page)

Tova sounded surprised, but pleased, by the offer. “Oh good! I can bring my notes to your hotel.”

“No, no, we’ll come to you,” Nina insisted. “The cops can still keep an eye on you—and to be honest, I’m suffering from cabin fever after spending most of the day in here. What’s your address?” She wrote it down. “Okay, we’ll be there soon.”

The two women said their good-byes, and Nina hung up before trying Eddie’s phone again. No answer. “Dammit, Eddie,” she muttered as she tied her long red hair into a ponytail, then collected her notes and packed her laptop into a bag. She was about to get her coat when the door opened. “Eddie?”

“No, Russian kidnappers,” came the reply. “Who’d you think it was?” Eddie entered the suite, a colorful scarf hanging down over his battered leather jacket and wetness on his boots where he had been in the snow. He was carrying something about eight inches long in a brown paper bag.

“Where were you? I tried calling, but it went straight to voice mail.”

“Police station. I turned my phone off while I was there.”

“Why did you go back there? Until we hear otherwise, our immunity’s still in effect.”

“They wanted to ask me some more questions about
the kidnappers,” he said, his tone curt. “Thought if I told them, they might let me know if they’d found out anything more themselves.”

“And had they?”

“Nope.” He headed for the suite’s bedroom.

“What did you buy?” Nina asked, regarding the bag.

“Hmm? Oh, just some thicker socks.” He didn’t look back at her as he went into the other room. “My feet got a bit damp during all that business, wanted to make sure I didn’t get frostbite.” Nina heard the clunk of his suitcase being opened and closed; then he returned. He glanced at her laptop bag. “You off somewhere?”

“Tova did some more research about the location of the second runestone. I was about to go over to her place rather than have her come here; the cops are watching it in case the kidnappers come back.”

“They won’t.”

Nina cocked her head. “You seem very sure of that.”

He looked irritated at being doubted. “There were four guys, and now three of ’em are dead. The one who’s left’d be pretty fucking stupid to try anything, especially now that every cop in Stockholm’s after him. Why, what did you think I meant?”

“Nothing, jeez,” she said defensively. “I was just saying, that’s all. Why are you in such a mood?”

“ ’Cause I just spent a couple of hours in a police station. So I’m going straight out again, am I?”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Nah, I’ll come.” He smiled, exposing the gap between his front teeth. “Got my scarf just how I like it, so it’d be a shame to take it off.”

Nina grinned back, relieved that his moment of ill temper had passed. “Okay then, Doctor Who. Let’s go.”

Tova lived in a small but comfortable apartment in southern Stockholm. As she had said, there was a police car stationed in the street outside, the two officers within watching the visitors suspiciously as they entered the building.

The Swede’s greeting was warmer. “Nina, Eddie! Hello again, I am so happy to see you both.”

“Thanks,” Nina replied. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“Still shaken, I am afraid,” Tova said as she took the couple’s coats. “Being kidnapped, it is …” She tried to suppress a shiver. “I am just a historian. This is crazy. I never imagined that my work would cause this.”

“I don’t think they’ll be coming back,” Eddie told her. “You shouldn’t have to worry about ’em.”

“I hope so! But thank you again for saving me, both of you.”

“All part of the job,” said the Englishman with a small smile.

Nina opened her bag. “I brought my laptop, so if the IHA database has anything that can help you, we’ll be able to access it.”

Tova nodded. “I will show you what I have found out so far.”

She led them through the apartment to a small room lined with bookshelves heavily laden with volumes on Scandinavian history and mythology. On a desk was a map of Norway, along with numerous printed notes. Tova sat and gathered together several pages. “This is the English translation of the section of the runes from the Valhalla Runestone that describes the journey to Ragnarök,” she said, placing one of the pages on the desktop. It was the same text that she had shown them at the museum. Nina read it again, Eddie this time taking considerably more of an interest.

Nina was first to finish. “There’s nothing more on the other runes that were on the stone?” she asked.

Tova shook her head. “Not that seemed relevant. Most of the other text is a list of those present when the stone was made.”

Eddie straightened. “Okay, so if I’m reading this right: You use the clues on the two runestones to find out how to reach Valhalla; then when you get there, you use the two halves of the dark stone to open the gate; and inside Valhalla there are two maps telling you where to find the eitr pits. That it?” The blond historian nodded.

“Two maps?” Nina asked, looking back at the text.

“It says ‘are found the
paths
,’ plural.” He pointed out the relevant line.

“That might just mean the route to Ragnarök involves going across the sea as well as overland.”

“No, Eddie is right,” said Tova. “As I told you yesterday, this English translation does not have the nuance of the original. The Old Norse text definitely refers to two different locations for the final conflict. Ragnarök is an event, not a place.”

Nina was slightly irked at herself for not having considered that, and at her husband for his smug smirk. “So does that mean they didn’t know exactly where the battle of Ragnarök would take place?”

“Looks like it,” said Eddie. “They’ve got a choice of two locations—these lairs of the serpent and of the wolf. They must both be way up north somewhere if they’re in the ‘lands of ice.’ So presumably once they’re at Valhalla and have the maps, one lot of Vikings toddles off to find the first eitr pit while their mates head for the other. Whichever one’s got monsters coming out of it, that’s your battle of Ragnarök.”

“That is … a new way of putting it,” said Tova, amused, “but yes.”

“But before you can find them, you’ve got to find Valhalla,” Nina noted. “And to do that, you need the other runestone.”

Tova moved the translation aside to show them the map. “I shall show you where I think it is.” Her fingertip moved to a long lake in western Norway. “This is Tinnvatnet—it is a valley that was flooded in the 1930s when a dam was built. But an archaeological site was also found there. Unfortunately, it was not fully cataloged before the water rose over it.”

“They didn’t delay the dam work until it was done?” Nina asked, faintly outraged.

“It was a different time; archaeology was placed second to progress, sadly. But the man in charge of the dig, Tollak Enberg, made as many notes as he could.” She picked up another sheaf of papers. “The site was called Félagthing—which literally means ‘the fellowship assembly’—by the Vikings, and like Iarlsta, it was a meeting place where differences between various
tribes were discussed and settled. A kind of high court, somewhere of great importance.”

“Important enough to be known about by tribes a couple of hundred miles away in Sweden?” suggested Nina. She indicated one section of the translation. “ ‘A place known to all true warriors,’ in other words?”

“I believe so, yes,” said Tova. “A meeting of the tribes there would only be called on rare occasions, and it would be for something very important.”

“Like Ragnarök,” Eddie said thoughtfully.

“Yes. Which is why I first thought it might be the place mentioned on the Valhalla Runestone—the fellowship hall. When I read Enberg’s notes, that made me more certain that I was right. They said there was a runestone at the site with a black circle set into it.” Among Tova’s papers was a photograph of the stolen runestone. “Like the sun compass,” said Nina, indicating it. “But I’m assuming that Enberg didn’t translate the runestone or take any photos of it—otherwise we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

“I am afraid not. He dismissed the text on the runestone as mere myth, and instead concentrated on the historical finds. And he did not have long to work there—even though the site had been discovered a few years before, it was only when the dam was almost completed that Enberg was able to arrange a dig. He and his people were working right up until the waters reached them.”

“Nothing like a deadline to spur you on.” Nina looked back at the map. “But that means the runestone’s still there under the lake, somewhere. Do you know where the site is?”

“Only the general area,” admitted Tova. “The lake is very long, almost thirty kilometers. Many of the landmarks Enberg described are now underwater also, and do not appear on modern maps. That is why I wanted to check in the archives, to see if older maps show them. With those, I can find the location more accurately.”

Nina took out her laptop. “I think I can help with
that. Just give me your WiFi password, and I’ll see what the IHA database can turn up.”

“Not that it’s going to make any difference,” said Eddie, almost forcefully dismissive. “It’s still at the bottom of a lake. The chances of digging the thing up have got to be pretty much zero.”

“Almost zero isn’t the same as zero,” said Nina. “And the people who stole the Valhalla Runestone and tried to kidnap Tova are obviously determined to get hold of the other stone so they can find Valhalla. If they’re willing to go that far, a bit of water isn’t going to stop them. I think it’s the IHA’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen. Don’t you?” She deliberately added a faint tone of challenge to her words, curious to see his reaction.

He merely shrugged. “Like I said, it’s at the bottom of a bloody lake. Even if you figure out where it is, we’ll still have a hell of a job finding it.”

Nina smiled. “Not necessarily. I know just the man to call …”

Pain and discomfort forced Chase back to groggy consciousness. He tried to move. The rippling burn of bruised muscles made him groan, but while his ribs and hip had taken a heavy impact, nothing was broken as far as he could tell.

He opened his eyes—and immediately squeezed them shut as raindrops smacked down on them. “Ow, fuck!” he muttered, annoyance followed by an odd amusement. If water in the eyes was his biggest complaint, he couldn’t be that badly hurt.

Turning his head, he opened his eyes again to see … nothing. A flash of panic: Was he blind? No, there was a very low light, the moon’s glow diffusing faintly through the heavy clouds above. Bushes and trees slowly took on ghostly form through the rain. Where was he? A forest? No, a jungle …

He snapped back to full wakefulness. Vietnam—he had been carrying Natalia, but one of the Russians had caught up. Then the mudslide sent them all over the cliff—

“Natalia!” Chase sat up, more pain coursing through his ribs. No answer. He looked around. A pale shape lay nearby: the young blonde in her white medical gown. He
called her name again. No response. He was about to check if she was still alive when he remembered they were not alone.

The Russian—

Another figure was sprawled on the muddy ground about ten feet from him. Even in the darkness, though, he could tell she was no longer a threat. A rock glinted wetly beneath the Russian woman’s neck, her head twisted at an unnatural angle.

Chase crawled through the sludgy dirt to Natalia. He found a pulse, slow but steady. She was still out cold, either from the drugs or as a result of the fall. Her landing had been softer than his; a dull throb across his chest told him he had unwittingly acted as her cushion when they hit the ground.