Authors: E. J. Squires
Tags: #romance, #paranormal, #young adult, #norse, #folklore and mythology, #huldra
“
I did it!” I’m
ecstatic.
Anthony, however, doesn’t
look too happy with me. He’s holding onto his foot like he’s in
pain.
My hands hit my hips.
“What, don’t like being beaten by a girl?”
His eyes lock with mine and
there’s so much anger there that it frightens me. He grabs my arms
and pushes me up against a tree. It doesn’t hurt, but I’m
frightened and my heart is beating nervously.
His face is one inch from
mine. “You’re not taking this seriously. Do I have to remind you
that your mother’s life is at stake? You’ll never learn to fight if
you cheat.”
“
I’ll do whatever it takes,
Anthony,” I spew. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”
“
What you just did won’t
work with others.”
“
It worked on you. Maybe it
was my instinct.”
“
Instinct? Hardly. It was a
cheap way to get out of a difficult situation. It teaches you
nothing about the real world and the types of creatures we’ll need
to fight. We’re done here.” He slams his fist into the tree behind
my head and trudges off.
I wait a while before I
follow him. When I get to the car, he doesn’t acknowledge me at
first. Guardedly, I get in my seat.
“
I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t
hurt your foot,” I say.
“
No, I’m sorry. I think—I
wasn’t expecting you to do what you just did, but I guess it worked
to your advantage. Surprise attacks may not be honorable, but they
are effective.” He reaches his hand out and places it on my knee.
“I hope I didn’t scare you. I would never want to do
that.”
“
You did, but I’m over it,
and I know you would never hurt me.” I take his hand for a moment
and then let go.
“
I’ll be sure to not let my
temper get the best of me, and you’re right, I don’t like losing to
a girl, especially when I was the one who taught her how to fight.”
The left side of his lips rises.
“
Well, I think I should
take the credit for this one. It was, after all, my instinct that
made me win,” I say.
He looks over at me and
smirks. “You’re right, Sonia, good job.”
I try not to smile too
much.
* * *
“
Can I draw you up a nice
Epsom salt bath and get you something to drink?” Anthony asks once
we get home.
“
Yes, please, that sounds
awesome,” I say.
“
You know, for your first
time, you did really well in the self-defense lesson. Your ballet
training comes in handy as you’re very flexible and you have the
best balance of anyone I’ve ever met. We just need to work on your
strength,” he says.
“
Thanks. A bath and a
smoothie sound nice, so I can build my strength.”
Anthony laughs. “Yes, Your
Majesty,” he says.
I roll my eyes. Either I
want to punch him or kiss him; there’s never an
in-between.
After soaking in a steaming
hot Epsom salt and jojoba oil bath for about an hour, though I’m
still tired, my body feels refreshed.
“
So how do we get in touch
with the Lightálfars?” I ask, coming down with my hair twisted up
in a towel.
“
I have one lead, but it’s
weak,” Anthony says, looking up from his laptop. He smirks and
raises an eyebrow when he sees me.
“
What?” I ask.
“
Nothing,” Anthony
says.
“
What, you don’t like my
hair pulled up in a towel?”
“
You mean your turban? You
almost look like the fruit lady who has all the produce on her
head.” He keeps smiling.
“
Is that a bad thing?” I
sit down next to him at the kitchen table, placing my elbows on the
table. I’m tired and not really in the mood for his
jokes.
“
Nope, just eccentric,” he
says with a light laugh.
I decide to let it go, as
there’s no use in arguing with him. “So, Lightálfars?” I
say.
“
Oh, yes,
I almost forgot since your Arabian
turbanado
threw me off.”
“
Now you’re just being
annoying,” I say, giving him a lethal look.
“
Oh, and you’re
not?”
I go to punch him in the
arm, but he grabs my arm instead. I don’t know how he manages to
get me down and pin me to the floor so quickly, and with such
gentleness that I feel I have fallen onto a bed of
roses.
“
What are you…?” I say,
baffled.
“
Just checking to see if
you learned anything in your lesson today. Apparently not enough.”
His eyes rest in mine as he hovers above me, locking me down with
his hands and legs.
My turban has partially
come undone and I try to grab it, but he holds my arms tight. My
heart starts beating faster, and I can no longer deny that there’s
some nearly magical force pulling us together. His face is so close
to mine and I want to lift my head to kiss his lips. But, before I
can act on it, he pulls me up to a standing position, picks up my
towel, and hands it to me.
“
Hair all dry?” he asks
casually.
I notice that I desperately
need to exhale. “Ah, yes,” I say, still wondering exactly what just
transpired.
“
Come check this out.” He
sits down at the table as if nothing happened and turns his laptop
screen so I can see it.
With my heart still racing,
I sit down next to him to look at the screen. “What is Alfablot?” I
ask.
“
It means ‘sacrifice to the
elves.’ In Norse mythology, one could sacrifice to the elves to
either get healed from some malady or to summon the elves to you. I
want to try to use the same method to contact them.”
“
What kind of sacrifice are
we talking about?” I ask, thinking it sounds dark.
“
The blood of a bull
painted around a feast that’s meant as an offering to the
Lightálfars,” Anthony says.
I make a face. “That sounds
gross! Isn’t there an easier way to get hold of them?”
“
What? Do you mean we
should try to find their cell phone number?” Anthony
asks.
I don’t know whether he’s
teasing me again or being serious. “Ha, ha,” I say.
“
No, I mean it. Don’t you
think that if we as Huldras have access to technology the
Lightálfars would, too?” Anthony says.
“
Yeah, but it’s not like we
can look up their numbers online or anything…” I say.
“
Well, we can search the
web and see. There might be some leads there.” Anthony types in
‘white elves,’ but none of the results are of much significance. He
tries searching ‘Lightálfars,’ instead, and again, just a few
general facts about light elves and Norse mythology.
“
What if you search for the
Asatru religion? They might know something about it,” I say,
remembering the name of the recently revived Viking
religion.
“
There’s the Asatru
Association.” He continues to read in silence for a while. “Here’s
a little blurb about feast days.” He clicks on it and reads on.
“There’s something about blot here, meaning ‘sacrifice to Balder,’
and something about a high feast, but it’s not until June
twenty-first and it will be too late by then.”
“
Let’s call them, maybe
they have some leads,” I say.
He nods. “Looks like
they’re in Arizona.” He picks up his cell phone from the table and
dials the number from the website. “Hello? Hi, I would like to talk
to a representative about the Lightálfars.”
I desperately hope it leads
to some information about the Lightálfars because I get the
distinct impression that we need them on our side to have any
chance of winning.
“
Hello, are you there?”
Anthony says. “Yes, Lightálfars.” He runs over to the kitchen
drawer, pulls out a pen and yellow sticky notes and writes
something down. “Thank you so much, I appreciate it.” He hangs up
the phone.
“
So?” I ask.
“
They say
they don’t have any information there, but he gave me the number to
someone named Skuld.” He dials the number right away. “Yes, hello,
is this Skuld?” He pauses and listens. “My name is Anthony Jensen.
I got your contact information from Ragnar at the Asatru
Association. I’m looking to meet and do an interview with someone
who knows about the Lightálfars.” He pauses to listen. “No, it’s
not for publication or anyth
ing,
just for…my own use.” He listens for a while. “I’m trying to track
down someone who’s associated with Lightálfars. Can you help me
with that?” Anthony looks at me, appearing frustrated. “Please,
it’s a matter of life and death. I can fly out and be there
tomorrow morning. Can you help me?”
“
Tell him you’re a Huldu,”
I whisper.
“
I have reason to believe I
am a Huldu,” Anthony says. “Hello? Hello? Are you there? The code
of virtues?” He listens. “Oh, yeah, in Huldu school, they taught me
that the codes are courage, uh…truth, honor, fidelity, discipline,
hmm…hospitality, industriousness, self-reliance and, uh, what was
the last one…? Oh, perseverance.” He pauses again. “The first
charge? Let me see if I remember…
to remain
honest and faithful
in love and devoted to
the tried and true friend.”
I’m impressed.
“
Okay, I’ll see you
tomorrow.” Anthony is writing fervently, an address it looks like.
“Thank you so much, and I look forward to meeting you.” He hangs up
the phone.
I look at him intently, but when he doesn’t
say anything, I have to ask. “So…? What did he say?”
“
It was a woman,” Anthony
says.
“
Okay, what did she
say?”
Anthony tears off the sticky note and holds
it up. “I’m meeting with her tomorrow in Arizona.”
“
Is she a
Lightálfar?”
Anthony’s eyes squint. “That’s what she
said.”
“
I’m coming with
you.”
Anthony hesitates. “It’s
the last day of school and I think it would be best if
one
of us goes to school,
don’t you think?”
School is the farthest thing from my mind
right now. “I’m assuming that by saying one of us, you mean me?” If
I’ll be waiting around to save my mom, I might as well go to
school.
“
You choose,” he says,
folding his arms in front of his chest.
I’m not prepared to travel to Arizona alone
to meet with a Lightálfar. I still don’t know enough about Huldras
or my heritage to be useful, so the choice is clear. “All right,
but keep me posted. I want to hear all about the Arizona trip as
soon as you get back.”
“
Of course,” Anthony says.
“I’ll probably be back before you’re out of school, if I can catch
an early flight.
Chapter 21
Friday morning, all
graduating seniors are to meet in the auditorium at 8:00 a.m. and
then head to the football field for graduation dress rehearsal.
Ashley looks happy to finally be graduating. She’ll be heading to
the University of Florida in the fall, and I know I’ll miss her
dearly.
I didn’t apply to a
university this year. Before all this madness started, my mom
insisted that I take a year off before continuing my education. I
thought at the time that it was an odd request from a mom, but
conceded to it anyway.
“
To find your place in
life,” my mom said at the beginning of the school year. Only now do
I understand partially what she meant. The transition to becoming a
Huldra is proving to be turbulent.
Anthony took a taxi at 3:00
a.m., to catch the 5:00 a.m. flight from Tampa to Phoenix. He
didn’t wake me up when he left, but left a handwritten note
instead, which read:
Sonia,
I’ll try to be back by
five o’clock for dinner. Roast with potatoes are my
favorite.
Have a great day
~A
I laughed when I read it.
I’ve never prepared a roast with potatoes in my life, and I’m not
going to try to do it now. All day at school, I wait for Anthony’s
call, which finally comes at lunchtime.
“
Hello?” I answer my phone
in record time, getting up from my lunch tray where I sit next to
Ashley. It’s difficult to hear him over the lunchroom chatter so I
walk into the hallway.
“
Hey, it’s good to hear
your voice again,” Anthony says.
I smile. It’s good to hear
his voice too, almost too good, I lament. “So,
anything?”
“
I want to talk to you
about this in person, but yes. There’s lots,” Anthony says. “Lots
more than what I anticipated.”
“
When will you be back
home?” I ask, feeling like a lonely housewife all of a
sudden.
“
Depends on when dinner’s
ready,” he says.
“
Five p.m. sharp.” I
chuckle. “The best meat and potatoes you’ll ever have.”
He laughs. “I hope you know
that I was just joking.”
“
Oh, thank goodness,” I
mock, “I was so worried because I don’t really cook.”