I gulped for air, clutching my throat.
"Oh my, are you having a panic attack?" Sue asked, suddenly not as cheery as she had before. "Ehm, let me get someone."
I squeezed my eyes shut, but that only made those old memories resurface, the ones I'd buried so deep that I barely remembered what had happened. The reason why I was claustrophobic. Why being in a building without a single window was a bad idea.
I tried to breathe, tried to count my breaths like my mother had taught me, but it wouldn't work. All I could think about was the lack of space, the threatening stone all around me. No air.
"Get her out of here."
I was pulled from my chair, but I was too busy trying not to scream. I was shaking all over. Even though I had my eyes closed, I could see stars exploding in the distance, bright lights that made me feel even more scared.
Someone had their arms around me, was leading me away, somehow making me walk even though I didn't know what I was doing. When a door fell shut behind us, the noise of the lecture theatre disappeared. I hadn't realised how much that noise had bothered me. Now that it was gone, my breathing became a little easier, but I was still having trouble not to scream and curl up into a ball.
But with the silence came the memories. Locked away. Nobody there. All alone. No one can hear me. Nobody will come for me. I'll die here. Alone. In the dark.
I bent over, my stomach lurching, but I just about managed not to throw up. Acid filled my throat and I swallowed it, grateful for the pain that guided me back to reality.
"What's going on?" he asked. Hjalmar. It was him who'd brought me out of there. He still had an arm around my waist, supporting me. I wanted to step away, make it clear that I didn't need and want his help, but instead I soaked up his warmth, letting him ground me. He was real. He was here with me, underground. I wasn't alone this time.
"No doors," I managed to whisper, my voice hoarse and unsteady.
"Breathe," he reminded me. "Slow, deep breaths. Breathe with me. In..."
He put a hand on my chest and gently pushed.
"...out."
He pulled the hand away, leaving me with the sensation of a warm handprint on my skin.
"In... and out."
We stood like that forever. He never left, never stopped breathing with me. His hand became a fixture on my chest, reminding me of my task. Breathe. Calm down. Stay in the present.
"Open your eyes," he said softly.
I did, surprised at how easy it felt. He was looking down at me with concern, but there was warmth in his blue eyes too. He could have walked away, could have left me to deal with my demons all by myself. Instead, he stayed and helped me get through it.
This wasn't how a murderer behaved.
ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 5
Turned out my Viking teacher had an actual office. Somehow, I hadn't put him down as the office type. Even having him teach felt strange. Like he was made to be running around outside, not bound by rules and social etiquette. Definitely not part of an Academy that was full of regulations and guidelines on how we were supposed to behave.
"Sit down," he said and pointed at a chair behind his desk. I did as he asked while he rummaged in a beautifully carved cabinet. A row of runes decorated the very top, but even if my Futhark knowledge had been better, it likely wasn’t written in English anyway.
Hjalmar pulled out a bottle wrapped in paper and put it on the desk. It had been previously opened, there were stains on the paper, and there was no label to indicate what was inside. Even though I'd only known Hjalmar for less than a day, I didn't think it was going to be orange juice.
He pulled out two small glasses and handed me one. My hand was still shaking, and I quickly sat the glass on the table before stuffing my hands in my pockets. Hjalmar followed my movement with his sharp gaze. I felt exposed under those watchful eyes of his, but in a good way. Like he was making sure I was okay. People didn’t usually look at me this way. They just assumed that I had a handle on everything. Caring for my mother had given me a rough exterior, something that made others leave and stop offering to help. Hjalmar looked through that mask and saw the Lainie inside, who, right now, was terrified.
Just because I was breathing normally again didn’t mean that the fear had disappeared. It still felt like an elephant was crushing my chest. I still had shivers run down my spine. All I’d managed to do was regain control over my body. Mostly.
Hjalmar poured us a drink. The liquid was honey-brown and thick. It didn't look particularly appetising, but when he handed me my glass, I poured it down my throat without hesitation. It was sweet, strong alcohol that coated my tongue at the same time as it burned its way down into my stomach.
"Just the way my dad used to make it," Hjalmar said with a nod towards the bottle. "It took me years to perfect the recipe."
I stared at him. "You made this?"
"Aye, every single drop. Want another glass?"
I nodded and immediately sipped on my refill. This stuff was delicious. I could get used to this.
"They say alcohol doesn't help solve your problems, but I think it can help to talk about them," he said softly. I didn't meet his eyes, instead preferring to stare at my glass.
"Why did you become so scared?" he asked. He was so gentle in the way he talked to me. I'd not expected that from him, not at all. Gone was the snarky humour, the mocking smirks.
I shook my head. "It's nothing. I just didn't like the thought of being trapped underground."
"We're not trapped. It may feel this way because you don't have a way to port to the surface yourself, but once you progress in your studies, you'll be given your own bracelets to let you port. You won't be stuck here forever."
He didn't get it, and why should he? This wasn't just a case of claustrophobia that would pass with a hug and a few nice words. It was much deeper than that, but it didn't concern him nor anyone else. Some burdens aren't for sharing.
"When?" I asked to distract both him and me. "When will we get bracelets?"
"In your second year. They don't trust you with them before." He chuckled. "As if you students become any more trustworthy over the course of a year. Accidents happen at least once a month. There's always someone who's overconfident or plain stupid."
An entire year until I would see the sky again. Until I could walk in fresh air. The pressure around my chest tightened.
"I can't do it," I whispered. "I need to leave."
"Look at me," he ordered. The gentle authority in his voice made me look up and meet his eyes. "You've been given an incredible chance here. You're one in a thousand who got the opportunity to study time travel, who'll be able to explore ancient cultures and walk with our ancestors. Don't throw that away."
I shook my head. "You don't understand..."
"Then make me understand," he interrupted me, suddenly sounding a lot harsher. "Tell me. If it's a good enough reason, I'll take you home myself."
I sighed. "And if it's not?"
"Then you stay here, as my student. You're talented. I saw how quickly you understood the runes. Runology isn't just about learning how to draw the staves and put one rune after the other like letters. It's an art, a strange urge to arrange the runes to make beautiful words. Runes can be poetry, and I think you understand that already."
He downed his drink in one go and poured himself another. "I lost a talented student once. I'm not going to see that happen again."
I felt my heartbeat quicken. Was he referring to what the others had talked about? The student he took back into the past and murdered there? A slight doubt was nagging me again. Was it wise to be here with my teacher, drinking goodness what? It seemed like a terrible idea.
"Tell me," he repeated.
I stubbornly shook my head and looked back down at my empty glass. He hadn't offered to refill it. In a moment of pure dare, I took the bottle and set it to my lips, drinking greedily. It burned down my throat, making me cough, but I didn't stop. Only when I needed to breathe did I take a
pause, which Hjalmar exploited to take the bottle from me.
"That was unwise," he said quietly. "You took some of what's precious to me."
I looked up at him in surprise. I hadn't intended it like that at all. It had been a challenge, maybe, or just something to distract him with. Not theft.
"Now I'm going to have to take something of yours," he whispered, his voice growing cold. "An eye for an eye. What's the price of a nostalgic moment?" He got up and walked towards the door. "A memory, I think." And he locked the door.
Panic flashed through me and I was up on my feet in an instant, trembling and swaying. I gripped the edge of the table, unwilling to sit back down even though everything was spinning.
"You're not going to leave this room until you've told me," he said, walking towards me until he was so close our bodies almost touched. He was towering over me, his body so much broader than mine. "Now sit down before you fall over."
His eyes were fire and ice, his expression full of threats and promises. I blinked up at him, trying to make sense of this strange man.
"Are you a Viking?" I blurted, the question forming on my lips before my mind could follow.
"I am," he replied with a shrug. "I thought you'd figured that out by now."
"Wanted to make sure," I mumbled, my tongue feeling heavy all of a sudden. "How... when..."
I let myself drop onto the chair, unable to formulate the question while fighting to stay upright.
Hjalmar chuckled. "Yes, I'm a Viking. Yes, I'm from the past. No, I'm not going to tell you why I'm here now and what led me to leave my home. And yes, this door stays locked until you face your fear."
Suddenly, the room seemed to grow dark. The walls moved, coming closer, ever closer, moving in rhythm with my heartbeat. I sucked in a breath, blinking several times, trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Tell me," he said for the third time. He was standing behind me, I could feel his closeness even though he wasn't touching me.
I shook my head. "I've talked about it before. It doesn't make it better. It just makes it worse."
My words were slightly slurred, but I didn't care. I just wanted him to unlock the door so that the walls would stop moving and I could escape this place.
"Then you've been talking to the wrong people," he whispered, his mouth close to my right ear. "Tell me and I promise you will feel better."
Deep inside me, the memories were fighting against their chains. They saw the opportunity to rise to the surface, to torment me with all their might, and they weren't going to back down. I clenched my fists until my fingernails buried deep into my palms.
One of the memories, the strongest, burst free and shot up like a rocket, exploding in my mind, turning the present into the past.
"I was trapped," I say, my voice coming from far away. Tell it like it happened to someone else, I hear the therapist say in my mind. Turn it into a story.
"She was trapped," I start again. "Locked in a box. She was being punished. She couldn't remember what for. Her mother had told on her. Maybe her crime had been weeks ago. She didn't know. He didn't care about how long ago it was. He punished her anyway. He always did that when he came home."
In the distance, I feel Hjalmar take my hand, but I don't want to get distracted. I can only tell this story once.
"He locked her into the box for days. Like a coffin. She was hungry and thirsty. She needed to pee. She was scared of the dark and that's why he did it. It was so dark in that box. Dark and hot and stuffy. There was no space to sit up, so she had to lie the entire time, her legs bent. Her back started hurting because the wood was so hard. When she got out, she couldn't walk. She was dirty all over. She smelled and her mother called her names because she was so smelly. After she washed, she had to clean the box, for the next time."
"How often did they do that to her?" His voice was calm and flowed into the story. It was easy to answer.
"Whenever he came home. Every few weeks. He didn't like seeing her. She had to stay out of his way when he let her out."
"And when did it end?"
"When she started school. A child drew a picture of a cat in a box and she started crying. A teacher managed to find out what was happening. She was taken away and given to a nice woman who became her new mother. She never had to go into a box again, but she always stayed scared of small spaces."
"And now a teacher made you tell the story once again," Hjalmar said softly. I opened my eyes, not even sure when I'd closed them. He was kneeling on the floor, his hands gripping mine. I looked down at my lap, then back at him. I think he was waiting for me to push him away, to pull back my hands, but I didn't move. I met his eyes, surprised at the darkness swirling in his. A storm was brewing over the azure seas, a storm that I had conjured.
He gently rubbed his thumbs along my palms, easing the tension that had built there. I opened my hands, sore from having my fingernails pressing against my flesh.
"I'm going to prove to you that not every room without a window is a prison," he whispered. "And I'm going to show you my home."
"Home? Don't you live here?"
He smirked. "My other home. I'm going to give you a taste of time travel, if you promise not to tell."
I grinned at him. I was good at keeping secrets. Except from him, apparently. The Viking who was quickly charming his way under my skin. Question was, would he turn away once he saw what was hiding inside of me? He'd only met one of my demons so far. There were many others waiting for him.
Only time would tell.
The End
The next episode in the Norsemen Academy serial will be released shortly. Pre-order it now or subscribe to my newsletter to be notified of the release.
Why a serial?
YOU MAY BE WONDERING, why stop here? Why not publish the entire book in one go? Why dangle tiny bits of Viking in front of our noses while you could give us the entire man in all his sexiness?
It’s because I enjoy writing this format. Writing a serial means I can squeeze it in alongside other projects. I can finish an episode while waiting for a cover to be designed for another book, or while I struggle with a character’s personality crisis (it has happened, believe me). And yes, I could write it that way, bit by bit, and publish the whole book in a few months’ time. True. And I will. There will be an omnibus version combining all the serial episodes in one book as soon as the final episode has been published.
But in between, I love sharing this story with you. These small books are great for lunchbreaks, commutes, evenings when you’re too tired to start a 300-pager. In my last job, I was always on the hunt for serials that would sweeten my lunchbreak without giving me a book hangover that would distract me all afternoon.
I know not everyone likes this format. Every time I publish a serial, I get reviews complaining about the length. And that’s fine, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Sometimes, though, I like to do things just because I enjoy doing them. And in this case, it’s publishing this book like a television series, one episode at a time (we’re talking the time pre-Netflix).
Anyway, if you enjoyed this episode, please leave a review. If you didn’t, you can do the same. Or wait for the full book and read it all in one go.
I recommend subscribing to my newsletter to be informed of all my new releases and projects: skyemackinnon.com/newsletter.
Resources
As mentioned in the introduction, here are some resources that I found particularly helpful while studying Old Norse and Runology. This is by no means an extensive list and I’m sure there are some great other resources out there that I’ve not come across yet (if you know something good, email me!).
My favourite book:
‘Viking Language 1: Learn Old Norse, Runes, and Icelandic Sagas’ by Jesse Byock. ISBN 978-0988176416
A free Memrise course teaching the most important 246 Old Norse words mentioned in the book:
https://www.memrise.com/course/365561/the-246-top-old-norse-words-audio/
Some short videos about Norse culture and studies:
http://www.vikingnorse.com/old-norse-teaching-videos
English to Old Norse Dictionary:
http://www.vikingsofbjornstad.com/Old_Norse_Dictionary_E2N.shtm
The Futhark song (like the ABC song but for the Futhark):
http://www.sassafrassmusic.com/songs/norse-mythology/futhark-song/
Dr Jackson Crawford’s Old Norse Youtube channel (lots of fun stuff):
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCXCxNFxw6iq-Mh4uIjYvufg/featured
The Orkneyinga Saga in English translation: https://archive.org/details/orkneyingasaga00goudgoog/page/n12
More information about runes:
https://www.omniglot.com/writing/runic.htm
THE ELDER FUTHARK
Also By
You can find all my books at skyemackinnon.com/books. Most of them are also available as audiobooks and paperbacks.
Daughter of Winter Series (Paranormal reverse harem)
Winter Princess
Winter Heiress
Winter Queen
Winter Goddess
>> Box set
Mother of Gods (prequel)
Demon’s Revenge (spin-off)
SEVEN WARDENS (Paranormal RH co-written with Laura Greenwood)
From the Deeps
Into the Mists
Beneath the Earth
Within the Flames
Above the Waves
Under the Ice
Rule the Dark
Prequel: Beyond the Loch
Spin-off: Through the Storms
CLAIMING HER BEARS (Dystopian bear shifter RH)
Polar Destiny
Polar Fates
Polar Miracle
>> Box set
THE MARS DIARIES (Sci-fi RH linked to the Drowning series)
Studying Her Vikings Page 4