by Gwen Rivers
Instead, I pick up the book of Norse myths and lie back in my hammock. I’m starting to think of the tome as an index for my adventures. I’ve only read the chapter about Aiden, Váli—whoever, the previous night. Now, I hunt for the people I’ve encountered.
The first I come across is the giantess Laufey, the Needle of the Forest. I scroll back to the beginning of the paragraph and read aloud. “Mother of Loki, the trickster deity. In fact, Loki is often referred to in Eddic poetry as Loki Laufeyjarson, or son of Laufey. The consort of Loki’s father, Farbauti. The descriptor needle because she is believed to be both slender and weak.”
A snort escapes. Can’t believe everything you read.
I skim the next few pages. Laufey didn’t raise Loki. The book doesn’t say why. In fact, the next mention of him is when he becomes a blood brother to Odin, the All-Father. His trickery and mischievousness get him and the gods of the Aesir into trouble time and again. Often, the same duplicitous mind also bailed them out of sticky situations, usually under threat of death or dismemberment.
“Loki fathered three children with the giantess Angrboda,” I read aloud. “Her name means foreboding or the bringer of woe. Also called the Hag of the Ironwood of Jotunheim, she is recognizable by hair the color of dried blood. The products of their union were monstrous. The great wolf, Fenrir, destined to swallow the world. The Midgard Serpent, Jormungand that encircles the realm of Midgard. And Hel, the appointed ruler of Niflheim, or the underworld for the dishonorable dead. She was chosen for this position by the All-Father because her half-dead appearance made her more comfortable with the dead than with the living.”
I shut the book and stare into the waterfall. The giantess in the castle. Aiden had called her the Hag of the Ironwood. And if she had three children with Aiden’s father that meant Hel was her daughter. As well as Aiden’s half-sister.
I’m not the kind of girl prone to fantastic imagination or building fantasy worlds to escape reality. My reality has always been bloody and harsh, but I could always tell the difference between real and not real. Is it possible that the new boy at school is really the cursed son of a Norse god? That his grandmother is a giant? And all the people I’ve hunted are trapped forever in service to the fabled Wild Hunt? That Sarah is dead, and Aiden’s half-sister is the goddess of the underworld?
That I am the reincarnated Queen of the Elphame, rightful heir to the Shadow Throne of the Unseelie Court?
It’s too much, too unbelievable. I pride myself on cool logic. But what logical explanation is there for my current location? The things I’ve seen and done? For the scars from the thorns that nearly killed me, from the almost healed burns in the shape of Aiden’s hand?
For my growing attachment to him.
I let out a shaky breath. Damn it, Aiden is just like Sarah, a chigger burrowing beneath my skin so deep that I can’t root out. I can’t ignore the response he drags out of me. Sarah made me feel like a person, not just a killer. I crossed the Veil in hopes of getting her back. And last night, last night I would have died if Aiden’s wolf hadn’t backed down. I knew the risks, understood the danger and had put myself in harm’s way.
“Would the real Nic please step forward,” I grumble.
What the hell is it about him? The powers? His dogged determination to help me whether I want it or not? Some sort of weird payback since he went to the trouble of reincarnating me? The answers prove elusive, much like Aiden himself.
A tap on the stone door breaks me out of my thoughts. “Come in,” I call, not bothering to get up.
Laufey pushes through the vines, a smile on her face. “I hear you helped Fern babysit the fawn kits. From the look of things, they were wound up today.” She frowns at the book in my hands.
I hold it up for her inspection. “How much of this is real?”
“All of it. None of it. It depends on whom you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
She exhales audibly. “Tell me, why are you here?”
The question startles me. “Because Aiden brought me.”
She perches on one of the boulders by the water’s edge. “But why? From what my grandson tells me, the old Nicneven was only interested in her own situation, an attitude that gave him no small amount of heartache. Do you know what it’s like, watching someone you love be used by a selfish person?”
I look away. “That’s not me. Not who I am. I don’t use people.” Even as I whisper the words they stick in my throat.
“No, you just kill them.”
No denying the truth. “I do.”
“And you enjoy it. The act of killing brought you satisfaction?”
“I thought it did.” Again, I meet her eyes. “Every kill connected me to my victims in a way I’ve never experienced before. It connected me with myself. I was doing something good, something no one else could or would do. It felt…right.”
“But you had to hide what you are, what you can do. Because the humans wouldn’t accept your sort of vigilante justice. And tell me, have you killed anyone since you came here to Underhill?”
“No.”
“No one? Not any of the beings who threatened you?”
I shake my head.
“You risked yourself for me with The Hunt. You risked your life to bring Aiden back last night. Not typical behaviors of an incredibly selfish person.”
I sit up, no longer at ease in the hammock.
“What about that friend of yours? The one you want to bring back?”
Blood pounds in my ears. “Can you do it? Can you bring Sarah back, the way you did for me?”
She answers my question with one of her own, her green eyes narrowing. “Why do you want this so badly?”
“She never had a chance to really live.”
“I didn’t ask why she deserves to come back, I want to know why you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring her back.”
My head shakes back and forth. “Because if I don’t who else will? She was no one of significance.”
“She must have been to you,” Laufey counters softly. “Like you were to my grandson.”
“So, will you help me?”
“I’m actually sorry to say that I can’t.” It’s her turn to look away. “I would like to help you, Nic. But it’s not in my power to do so.”
I stare at her blankly. It had all been for nothing?
Laufey stands, shaking her drab skirt out around her legs. “Come down to dinner.”
My stomach is in knots. “I’m not hungry.”
She sighs and heads out of the room, only to turn by the door. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re an impressive young woman. You would have to be, to overcome the obstacles of your former life and risk yourself the way you have. I know the Norns. They would have resources, wealth. And there are no better protectors in all the nine worlds. So why leave all that and come here, to Underhill to be hunted?”
“I had a friend,” I swallow. “Who deserved better than the hand she was dealt.”
“You still do,” she says softly.
I sit in the hammock until the brightness of the meadow room fades to a creamsicle-esque twilight. I’m a puppet whose strings have been severed, a discarded mannequin with no purpose. My only thought is on a loop as I stare at the bubbling water.
Sarah, I’m sorry.
I did nothing for her, not in life when she wanted to run to California. Nothing to prevent or even avenge her death. I’d let Aiden stop me. No, not Aiden, he’d talked me down, but I’d let him. The blame for it is squarely on my shoulders because I didn’t want to get caught. Was too afraid of human prisons or what they’d do to me if they found out about my Goodnight Kiss.
Though I’m lacking the details, from my most recent dream and his reaction concerning The Hunt, it’s obvious that I’d betrayed Aiden on my last go.
I’m self-centered, I know this. It’s who I am. How is it fair that a creature like me gets two chances to screw up life and Sarah didn’t even get a full one?
&nbs
p; It was easier when I pretended they didn’t matter, not Sarah, not Aiden or even Chloe and Addy. They were just background characters, props to support my narrative. But now….
I wipe at the wet streak on my cheek. Now they matter.
The pity party is getting ugly. I have nowhere to go, no resources, no family or friends. I can’t ask any more from Laufey and Fern and even if Aiden had returned, which he hadn’t, I refuse to accept anything more from him. Who knows how much time has passed in the mortal realm? Even if the Fates don’t age, I can’t ask them to take me back. I’m still more trouble than I’m worth to them.
I can’t go back, can’t stay still. That leaves me with only one option. The Wild Hunt and the Unseelie Court. My memories from my last life convey that one had been my escape, the other my prison. Freda said they’d return in three nights. Perhaps I could make myself useful again for a few days, help Laufey and Fern until they came for me.
That leaves one loose end, one thread I need to disentangle.
I’d rolled the collage I’d made into a tube, so it would fit in my backpack. Hefting myself out of the hammock I move over to retrieve it. There isn’t enough light in the meadow room to read the inscriptions. I head for the stairs.
Fern and Laufey are sitting at the stone table amidst half-filled bowls of steamed roots and roasted nuts. Laufey has her back to me, but Fern grins widely as she tells her an animated story about adventures in gardening with the kits. She pauses and smiles up at me. “There you are. Your dinner will be like ice.”
“I’m not hungry,” I say. It’s the truth. “I have a question though, about the sap you spoke of earlier. From this tree.” I pointed to the one growing in the middle of their house.
“Yes?” Fern tilts her head to the side in a birdlike manner.
“If I understood the lesson correctly, you said it can be brewed into a syrup that will break any magical connection.”
Laufey turns to look at me. “What of it?”
I take a deep breath. “In my last life, Aiden made an oath to me. One that has superseded my death and compels him to obey my every command. I was wondering, could the syrup break that oath? Free him from my control?”
The two women exchange a glance.
“It’s possible,” Laufey says at length. “Though there’s no guarantee.”
“Have you talked to Aiden about this?” Fern wrings her hands, her brows creased together.
“I haven’t seen him since this morning.”
“He gave you that oath of his own free will,” Laufey speaks slowly. “It was made from trust and devotion.”
“I know. And I think I abused that trust.” I shake my head. “I spent my life punishing those who prey on the weak. I’m not comfortable having that sort of compulsive power over anyone.”
Fern works her lower lip. “I’d be happy to make the syrup, but he must be the one to choose to undo it. Are you sure this is what he wants?”
I huff out a breath. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue what he wants from me.”
Another exchange of glances between them.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re his mate,” Laufey says slowly. “Even if we manage to break his oath, that bond remains.”
“I don’t even know what that means. I’ve had dreams about what our relationship was like before and I can’t give that to him.”
Fern stands up. “I’ll get started on the syrup. You go find him, talk things out. If you both come back and say you want to try to break the oath, we can do it.”
I frown. “Where should I look for him?”
Laufey exhales a mighty breath. “There’s a cave, a few miles to the west. He used to stay there, back when he was still learning how to control the wolf. I’ll take you there.”
“Careful, Fe,” Fern cautions. “There’s blood on the moon tonight. Trouble is coming our way.”
Laufey rolls her eyes as she stands from the table. “You are a superstitious old bat at times, my love. Nic, grab a cloak from the peg. It’s cold out tonight and you weigh next to nothing.”
“Just let me grab my backpack.” In case I decide to cross the Veil at midnight, a thought I don’t vocalize. At least in the mortal world, I have an advantage of the Goodnight Kiss. And there aren’t nearly as many beings who want to eat me.
Laufey sets off at a brisk pace. The sun is gone, but the moon rises full. With a glowing halo around its shining face, it casts a silvery light on the well-worn path through Fern’s garden and out into the woods beyond. The borrowed cloak is rough homespun, not nearly as soft as my native cotton, but it does provide plenty of warmth against the biting wind.
We walk in silence, with me trying my best to keep up with her long-limbed strides. Occasionally, she pauses to check my progress before resuming the brisk pace. I’m glad for the physical demands, it keeps me from obsessing about what I will say to Aiden when I see him.
Should I apologize for what I’d done in my past life? There are memories that connect me with the Nicneven I was before. Riding with the Wild Hunt. There are others that shame me, like my thoughts of ordering Aiden to remove his contraceptive charm. And others still that spin me all around until I’m dizzy. Like the ones where he touched me, kissed me, wanted me.
And I wanted him back.
“For what it’s worth,” Laufey interrupts my brooding. “I don’t think he’ll agree to break the oath.”
“What makes you say that?” The ground between us is steep and I use my hands to pull myself up. “I’d think he’d want to be free of me.”
“Maybe the old you,” Laufey offers her hand and after a brief hesitation, I take it. “The Unseelie Queen who did nothing but take what she wanted. But I saw the way he looked at you last night. Even without some mystical compulsion, I’d wager he would do whatever you ask, regardless of the risk.”
I shake my head. “If not for his tie to me, the old me, he wouldn’t bother with me. Not the way I am now. Our past is the only thing we have in common and it’s a past I can’t fully remember.” A past in which he had a very good reason to hate me.
“We’ll see,” is all Laufey says. “The cave is up there.”
She points. Up ahead, there is the flickering of firelight. And a man-shaped shadow cast on the wall.
I stare at it, feeling the knot of snakes in my belly shift and doubts surface.
“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” He’d stayed away all day.
“Only one way to find out.” Laufey turns and within three steps, vanishes into the darkened forest.
Chapter 19
Dare for a Dream
My entrance into the cave is neither quiet nor graceful. I trip on a root and end up sprawling in the dirt at Aiden’s feet.
“Are you hurt?” He crouches down beside me, a frown pulling his dark brows into a deep V shape.
“Fine, though I doubt I’ll get my wilderness merit badge anytime soon.” My cheeks are hot from more than the roaring fire.
He grins and helps me rise. “I never know what you’re going to say or do next.”
His hands are warm on mine and I can’t help recalling how hot they blazed when he burned me. I should fear his touch, what he can do, yet I can’t seem to let go. And that scares me more than any pain—real or imagined.
His smile fades as he searches my face and he is the first to break contact. The moment stretches out awkwardly, neither of us speaking, the silence tense. I concentrate on dusting myself off and notice he’s once again wearing the ratty sweatpants that I’d removed from him the day before. The question comes out automatically. “Where did you find those?”
“The trash out behind the house.” He makes a face. “They didn’t smell too great, but I washed them in the river earlier.”
“You went Dumpster diving for clothes? Your grandmother has a whole supernatural storage room. Couldn’t you just borrow something from there?”
A shrug is my only answer. He turns away, facing the fire once more. “I prefe
r these. What are you doing out here, Nic?”
“Looking for you.” I glance around the cave, again seeking a subject to glom onto. The fire pit is set beneath a crack in the rock above, large enough to vent the smoke. I run my hand along one smooth wall. “This feels too even to be a natural cave.”
“That’s because it was carved by magic. Laufey’s magic. Why were you looking for me? Is something wrong?”
I don’t answer him. Instead, my attention drifts to shackles bolted into the far side of the wall. Long chains lead to four cuffs about three inches wide. I move closer until I can crouch down to examine them, lifting one cuff and the great chain that dangles from it. The weight is incredible. There’s also a tickle in the back of my sinuses which I am beginning to equate with magic use. “She told me you stayed here while you were learning to master your wolf.”
He moves closer, takes the shackles from me. “That’s right.”
I try to read his expression, but he has it closely guarded. “They chained you up?”
A nod. “There are also bars to seal the entrance, though they aren’t active any longer.”
I stand and face him, wrapping my arms around myself to ward off a sudden chill. “Why would they do that to you?”
“I asked them to. To help me.” He drops the chain and it hits the stone with a deafening clang. “You never saw what I was like in those days. In control one minute then rage would crash through me with no provocation. No one was safe around me, not even those I loved.”
He moves to turn away, but I reach out. My hand lands on his stiff shoulder. “You’re talking about your brother.”
He closes his eyes, guilt emanating from him in waves. It’s answer enough.
“Please tell me what happened.” My voice is soft, as though the power of it alone might break him.
Aiden stares at me for a beat, then down at where my hand touches him. A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I don’t talk about this. Not ever. Not even with you.”