Dragon's Gift - The Valkyrie- Complete Series

by Linsey Hall

  In my hand, I clutched the scroll and the little bag, confirming that this had been no dream.

  “Right, then. Off to Valhalla.”

  I was sweating and exhausted by the time I made it to the top of the cliff. My muscles trembled with strain and my lungs burned. Barely—just barely—I managed to avoid going to my knees.

  All those years riding around on the buggy hadn’t been the best for my fitness. I could fight. But climb up a cliff like a mountain goat?

  Nope.

  Cool wind whipped my hair back from my face as I used the moonlight to find my way toward the castle. In fairness, it wasn’t hard to miss—giant thing with sparkly golden windows and all.

  Warmth enveloped me as soon as I trudged through the massive doors into the entry hall. The scent of mulled wine welcomed from somewhere deep in the kitchens, where Hans occasionally had a kettle brewing regardless of the season.

  I ignored it, opening the scroll instead.

  Scribbled writing greeted my eyes, something I didn’t recognize. I squinted.

  Old Norse, maybe?

  Had to be. I’d seen it in the books in the library but hadn’t learned how to read it yet. I sighed and rerolled the scroll, then dug into the bag of what felt like rocks. I pulled one out.

  Yep. A rock.

  I turned it over and squinted at the carving on the front. It was a squiggly shape, but hard to tell what exactly. I inspected the rest of the rocks, only able to identify one carving that kinda looked like a face.

  “All right, then,” I muttered. “Off to the library.”

  I headed down the hall to Florian’s domain. Fortunately, it was evening, so I could expect to find the ghostly night librarian instead of the grumpy Potts, who handled the day shift.

  Thank fates for a little luck.

  If my luck extended, he’d come out quickly and help me, then I could run all of this by Ana before getting started.

  The library contained no people when I entered, but as usual, the fireplaces burst to life, warm orange flame filling the room with a pleasant glow. Two of the Pugs of Destruction slept in beds in front of the largest fireplace on the right wall, but movement on my left caught my eye.

  I looked up.

  Mayhem fluttered high in the air, a rag in her mouth. She rubbed it against the spines of the books, shaking her little head back and forth.

  “Oiling the leather again?” I asked.

  She gave a yip, but didn’t cease her work.

  I grinned. Yesterday, Florian had explained that the spines of the books needed to be oiled to keep the old leather from cracking. It was Mayhem’s job to do the books high on the shelves because she had wings.

  In return, Florian read bedtime stories out loud to her. Particular favorites were The Dogs with the Giant Ham and Skipping Through Bacon Valley: A Good Dog’s Memoir.

  “Florian!” I called, hoping he’d hear me. Sometimes he was off doing who knew what. He certainly never explained why it took him so long to come when I called. The best I ever got was, “Ghosts have lives, too, you know.”

  Fair enough. Florian had stuff to do.

  But I needed help. Pronto.

  I found a seat near the fire, wanting to rest my legs for a moment before I headed back into the darker section—the ghost library—to get some books. I might be able to find them on my own without Florian’s help, but it was a freaking labyrinth back there.

  I’d give him a few moments to show up while I rested my legs. I leaned back in my chair and sighed, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

  Ruckus and Chaos snuffled loudly and shifted in their beds, but didn’t wake. Chaos’s horns glinted in the firelight. I stuffed the carved stones in the pocket of my jeans and unrolled the scroll again, studying it.

  After a while, my head began to hurt, but eventually, I swore that the letters began to move.

  I blinked. “What the heck?”

  Warmth glowed in my chest, almost like magic. But it was a bit different. Subtler. Not the intense wham! of developing a new power.

  But the letters began to form words I could recognize.

  In the cave where one can build and repair, the boat will arise that transports good and fair.

  “Holy crap!” I said.

  “Can I help you?” Florian’s voice sounded.

  I jerked my head up. “Florian!”

  He looked elegant as always in his eighteenth century apparel. His ruffled cravat was stark white at his neck, and his waistcoat gleamed with blue metallic thread. The wig towering on his head was an unusual choice, since he often went wigless. He must have been out partying with some old-timey friends or something.

  He bowed. “Ever at your service, my lady.”

  I laughed. “You know that’s not true.”

  He sniffed. “Fine, then. Sometimes at your service. When it is convenient.”

  I grinned.

  “But can I help you?” he asked.

  “I thought so, but it seems I can read Old Norse now.” I recited the first line to him. “Do you know what that means?”

  His face brightened. “Norse, you say? But of course I know. That is referring to the Cave of Seers.”

  “But I was just there.”

  “Ohhh.” He leaned forward. “Did you learn anything good?”

  “Maybe, if I can figure out what that line from this scroll means.”

  He sat in the plush chair across from me and crossed one ankle over his knee, then tapped his elegant fingers on his chin. “Not to worry, my dear. I know what it means. Long before the Cave of Seers was used as a visiting place for seers, the cave was used by Viking seafarers who came to our fair shores. They pulled their boats in for repairs and often overwintered there.”

  It clicked in my mind. “That’s what those tools were. The ones that were scattered around. And the wooden beams.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why didn’t you guys ever move them? Surely they should be in a museum.”

  “Heavens no! Most archaeological sites should be left undisturbed, particularly by laypeople. While it is true that those artifacts are on the surface and subject to the cruel vagaries of weather and fate, we cannot touch them for any reason. Not even for conservation and display. Magic prevents it.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t tried to touch them or pick them up—they weren’t mine, after all, and one didn’t muck about in magic places getting sticky fingerprints everywhere—but I believed him.

  “Yes, well, that is the place where ‘one can build and repair,’ as the scroll says. And I have to assume that ‘the one good and fair’ refers to you. You are on a quest, after all. To prove yourself worthy and anchor the magic within you.”

  “Yep, that’s me.” I looked down at the scroll. The rest of it seemed quite clear. I snapped it shut and looked up at Florian. “I know what I have to do. Thank you, Florian.”

  He stood and bowed. “My pleasure to help a DragonGod.”

  “You helped me before you knew I was a DragonGod.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little flattery.” He grinned cheekily, and the light glinted off his glasses. “I’d help you no matter who you were. But, if you’re going to be famous, I’m going to enjoy it.”

  I grinned. “Night, Florian.”

  “Goodnight, Bree Blackwood.”

  I turned and hurried out of the library. I needed to find Ana and tell her what I’d learned. And I needed to find Cade and ask him to come along.

  I read the scroll as I walked, picking up more tips from the directions. Apparently the stones would help us along. I patted the bag in my pocket, ensuring they were still there.

  I turned the corner toward our apartments and slammed into a broad chest.

  Gasping, I stumbled backward. Strong hands caught me before I fell on my butt.

  I looked up at the towering figure who radiated warmth and the seductive scent of a storm at sea.

  “Cade.”

  He grinned down at me, handsome as the devil with his dark hai
r and full lips. “Bree.”

  “Weren’t we in this position just a few days ago?” I asked, embarrassed to hear how breathless I sounded. Visions of our kiss flashed through my mind, warming my skin and sending heat to my cheeks.

  “I believe we were.” His voice roughened, lowering. Just barely, his hands tightened on my arms. Not enough to hurt, but enough to show he was affected by the memory.

  I leaned toward him, my mind buzzing with desire. This was the first moment we’d been alone since our kiss at the Whisky and Warlock. The first moment I’d have a chance to taste him again. Feel him again.

  My heart thundered.

  Ana appeared in the corner of my vision.

  She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide. “Oh, sorry!”

  I stepped back from Cade, grateful that he was quick to drop his grip.

  “Ana. Hey.” I smiled, trying to play it cool.

  “Hey.” Her gaze darted between me and Cade. It was clear she was trying to play it cool, too, but of course there was insatiable curiosity there. If I’d seen her about to smash faces with a sexy god, I’d be pretty interested in getting the scoop myself.

  I’d mentioned our brief kiss to her after it had happened—there was no keeping juicy gossip from Ana; she was like a bloodhound—but there’d been no news since then.

  “Ana, good to see you,” Cade said.

  “You, too.” She turned to me. “Well, how’d it go in the cave?”

  I explained the scroll and the rocks, then turned to Cade. “The Norns said that you could come with me because you’re a god and can enter the different realms. Will you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I want to help,” Ana said. “I’ll come.”

  “You can’t.” I frowned at her. “I’m sorry. Since you’re not a DragonGod yet—or haven’t come into your powers at least—they said that you wouldn’t be able to enter the godly realms.”

  “Dang.” Her shoulders slumped. “I hate you going off to dangerous places alone.”

  “She won’t be alone,” Cade said.

  “I know, I know.” Ana nodded. “It’s just that I like to be there. We’ve always had each other’s backs. Changing that up is weird. And scary.”

  I nodded, knowing she’d spend the whole time concerned for me, just like I would if she had to run off to dangerous godly realms without me. I leaned over and hugged her hard.

  “Don’t worry about me.” I pulled away, then smiled at her.

  She grinned back at me and nodded, but worry still darkened her eyes.

  There was nothing I could do about that, so I let it go and turned to Cade. “Meet tomorrow at sunrise in the entry hall?”

  “I’ll see you then.” He turned and walked away, business as usual.

  I, of course, was not businesslike at all. Instead, I mooned after him until he turned the corner.

  3

  The next morning, after swinging by the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and a scone from Hans, the head cook, I hurried to the main hall.

  Somehow, I managed not to spill a drip of coffee on my thin black sweater.

  Victory!

  That didn’t save me from the crumbs, but at least they could be brushed off. At one point, a raisin fell into my shirt and I had to stop to shake it out.

  A sparkling little mouse scurried out from a hole in the wall and grabbed the dried fruit that dropped to my feet, and then hurried back to the hole in the wall.

  “A glitter mouse?” I murmured. “Weird.”

  The little creature turned back and glared at me with beady black eyes, as if it could understand me.

  “Sorry, you’re not weird,” I said. “You’re lovely.”

  The mouse nodded her little head, which sparkled like diamonds, and carried her raisin off into the hole in the wall.

  “All right, then.” I popped the last bite of scone into my mouth and kept heading toward the hall.

  Cade was waiting for me by the time I arrived. I finished the last sip of my coffee and set the cup on the little tray set into an alcove in the wall. The cup would disappear back to the kitchen, a luxury that delighted me to no end.

  “Ready?” Cade asked. He wore the same dark tactical gear as he had last time.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  We walked out into the cobblestone courtyard as the sun peeked over the horizon, lighting the gray morning with a golden glow.

  This time, the climb down the cliffside was a little less scary. I still wouldn’t do it as a hobby, no matter how nice it would be to stroll the beach down below, but at least I wasn’t a shaking mess when I reached the bottom.

  “This way.” I led him toward the cave, which was still pretty dark this early in the morning.

  I stopped near the middle of the cave, gazing around the space, then pulled the bag of carved stones out of my small backpack. I dumped them into my hands, then handed half over to Cade.

  “These are supposed to help us,” I said.

  “How?”

  “No idea. But the scroll said it would become obvious.”

  “All right.” He studied his stones.

  I bent my head and studied mine. I had four. One looked like an arrow, another like a face, the third like a sun, and the fourth a bird.

  I tucked the one with the arrow back into my pocket. If I was understanding the scroll correctly, I’d need that one for later, to help get through the realms of the gods.

  The last three were still a mystery though.

  I clutched them in my hand and began to pace around the cave. It was a huge space, several hundred feet wide and just as tall. The mouth was enormous, allowing more light to enter as the sun rose.

  The carving on the wall that I’d seen yesterday caught my eye. I tilted my head and studied it, then pointed at it. “That looks like one of my carved stones.”

  Cade joined me, peering up. “We should look for more carvings, then.”

  “Agreed.”

  We split up, pacing the space, looking in every nook and cranny for more carvings. On the far left, I found a huge hole in the wall. It led back to an underground spring. The water glittered with bioluminescence, and it allowed me to see that the stream stretched far back into the cave.

  Cool.

  I turned from it and kept searching. A moment later, I found the sun-shaped inscription high on the wall near the back entrance to the stream.

  “I found one!” I called.

  “So did I,” Cade shouted from across the cave.

  Further inspection revealed a tiny little slot in the wall beneath the carving.

  I dug the sun stone out of my pocket and put it in the slot. Magic sparked over my fingertips.

  “Jackpot.” I turned to Cade. “Try to put your stone in a little slot in the rock, if you can find one.”

  A moment later, he called, “It worked. There’s magic here.”

  It took us fifteen minutes to find the rest of the carvings and insert our little stones into the slots. I didn’t find one for the bird stone, but maybe I’d need that for later. As soon as I placed the last one, the air shimmered with magic.

  I turned from the cave wall to face the great open space. Magic lit the air, swirling with a golden glow and coalescing on the ground near the tools.

  They rose up, dancing on the air, along with the abandoned pieces of wood.

  “Amazing,” Cade said.

  “Just like that movie. Sleeping Beauty. Where the fairies make the house clean itself and everything moves around.”

  In front of us, the wood began to assemble itself on the surface of the water in the middle of the cave. Tools pounded and banged, building the ship in front of our eyes.

  First, sparkling magic lifted a heavy piece of wood and connected it to two curved end pieces. Bow and stern, I had to assume. The ship floated in the air as the glittering magic added planks to the sides, each one overlapping another, perfectly fitted and carved. Then some crosswise pieces were added inside. I tilted my head. They looked a bit
like slender ribs. Finally, magic added a giant hunk of wood to the middle of the boat. Last, a mast was inserted into it.

  Soon, a complete Viking ship had built itself for us.

  “Holy fates,” I breathed.

  Then it drifted on the surface of the water, headed toward the stream that stretched back deeper into the cave.

  “Uh-oh. Come on!” I ran after the boat.

  Cade caught up to me as I hurried to the edge of the water, where the boat waited. Very convenient.

  I leapt inside, stumbling a bit, then righted myself.

  Cade, of course, was graceful as ever.

  As soon as he was in the boat, it took off, drifting down the glittering water that illuminated the cave around us.

  “Bioluminescence shouldn’t live here,” he said.

  “That Viking boat shouldn’t have built itself for us.” I shrugged. “Magic.”

  He grinned.

  The ether sucked us through. I gasped, reaching out for Cade. My hand met his strong arm, and I clung to him. He gripped me around the waist as the boat rocked through the ether.

  A moment later, the sun blazed in our eyes.

  Yggdrasil rose tall in front of us, so impossibly huge that I still couldn’t conceive of it even though I’d been here yesterday.

  “Fates of all,” Cade murmured. “The World Tree.”

  “It’s something, isn’t it?” I studied our surroundings. I could no longer see the Norns’ cottage or their well, which meant that the river had delivered us somewhere else along the base of the great tree.

  Fields stretched out around us, and the bottom of the tree was ridged with valleys made by the roots sinking into the earth. We floated on a river that drifted lazily toward Yggdrasil. The boat didn’t seem to need any propulsion because it moved along without using the sail or the oars resting against the sides.

  “From what I’ve learned, there are nine realms of the Viking world,” I said. “We were on Midgard, where mortals live. Now we have to make it to the realm of the Valkyrie. But to do that, we must pass through several other realms, going higher and higher up the World Tree.”

  “Do you know where we start?”

  I pulled the scroll out of my bag just to confirm, then looked up at him. “We must find Hverglemir, the Roaring Kettle. Also known as the Source of Many Rivers. It will take us to the next realm.”