Ain't Myth-Behaving

by Katie MacAlister

  “You weren’t married to that maidservant with the hair the color of raven, and she gave you two daughters.”

  I gaped at Alrik. “You have children?”

  Now he looked really embarrassed. “I was very young.”

  “That doesn’t matter! You didn’t tell me you had children!”

  “It’s just the two, Brynna.”

  “That you know of,” his mother said, buffing a nail on her sleeve.

  “What?”

  She waved away my exclamation. “Alrik’s daughters are not of concern here. They were well cared for after he was taken from us, but they, too, were doomed. One died in childbirth, the other perished with her husband when they were caught sailing in a storm.”

  Alrik looked sad. “I’m sorry,” I murmured to him, leaning into his side.

  “I never really knew them,” he said, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me closer. “If I’d known what was going to happen to them, I would have done things differently.”

  “It is no good cursing once the egg is broken,” his mother said primly. “They are in Niflheim, and happy now.”

  Alrik bowed to his mother, kissing her hand, and thanked her. “Your blessing gives me great joy. But we still need your ring.”

  “I do not have it.”

  “You don’t?” Alrik’s forehead furrowed as he glanced at me. “But…it was the ring my father gave you. You were not buried with it?”

  “Of course not!” she said, walking back over to her grave, tucking her hands into the long sleeves of her gown. “It was cursed! You don’t think I’m going to have something like that with me for all time, do you? I left it to your sister. You’ll have to find her to get it back. Now I must leave, or I’ll be late for my fitting. It’s Hel’s birthday, and we’re having a surprise party for her. I’m going as a holly shrub. Farewell, my son. I bid thee well, daughter, and hope to find you with child the next time Alrik summons me.”

  I slapped a smile on my face and wished like hell I had a cigarette. She said something to the men standing behind us, all of whom bowed to her.

  Then she tilted her head and smiled at me. “Be sure to tell Brynnhilde that I have given my blessing to your union.” Her laughter echoed around us as her form dissolved into nothing, her words carried on the remnants of the wind. “It will infuriate her no end. May all her hair fall out, and her breasts shrivel up to naught…”

  I eyed Alrik as one last puff of wind stirred the leaves and twigs at our feet. “You know, I was going to warn you that my parents are a bit eccentric, but I don’t think there’s any way they can top your family.”

  Alrik sighed. “They’ve always been that way. I was the only normal one in the family.”

  I giggled, wanting to point out that a thirteen-hundred-year-old Viking ghost in an Armani silk shirt wasn’t quite the traditional definition of the word “normal,” but there were more important issues at stake.

  “Right, so now we find your sister. Where’s she buried?”

  “I have no idea. It was after we were cursed.” Alrik’s shoulders sagged a little. He looked weary, worn down by the cares of the world. My heart warred with my body, but eventually, the better part won out.

  “I know tonight is the last night of the full moon, but you’re tired, and so am I. Why don’t we just find a hotel and get some rest? We can tackle the problem of the ring in the morning.”

  “Lady Brynna speaks wisely,” Baldi said, rubbing his face.

  “Aye, but we must speak to Katla, and tonight is the only night we can do it. I just don’t know how we’re going to find her…” Alrik pinched his lip. My gaze fastened on it, and it was only by dint of immense willpower that I kept from lunging at the man.

  But if I wanted to enjoy the attentions of Alrik, I’d have to come up with a way to locate the ring.

  “I’ve got it!” I said after a few moments of furious thinking, and rustled through my purse for the cell phone Paul had lent me. “Paul isn’t just a historian, he’s also an amateur genealogist. He traced our family back eight hundred years, so I bet he can access all sorts of genealogical records. He’s bound to know where your sister was bur—Paul? It’s Brynna. Yeah, sorry, I know it’s late, and you had a long drive home from Momo’s, but this is an emergency. Hmm? Yes and no. We found her, but she didn’t have the ring. We need to find—no, he’s not naked, and we’re not in a honeymoon suite in a fancy hotel, although I sure as shooting wish I was, and with any sort of luck at all, I will be soon, assuming you stop interrupting me so I can ask you a question!”

  Bardi snickered. Alrik held out his hand, which I took, talking to Paul while he helped me up the hill, and through the woods to the small clearing where we’d left the car.

  “You must get your temper from your father’s side of the family,” Paul answered in a grumpy voice. I couldn’t blame him, since I’d clearly woken him up, but we didn’t have the time to wait until morning.

  I ran through a quick explanation of why we needed to trace what happened to Alrik’s sister. “So if you could fire up your genealogy database, or whatever you use to look up people’s records, I’d appreciate it. Alrik’s sister’s name was…” I looked at him.

  “Katla,” he answered, holding open the car door for me.

  I slid into the driver’s seat while the Vikings piled in behind me, passing along the information to Paul. “Alrik says they didn’t have surnames then, so I don’t know how you’re going to pick her out from other Katlas of the time, but—”

  “That’s not necessary,” Paul interrupted, yawning loudly in my ear. “I don’t need to look his sister up to tell you what happened to her. In fable she was killed by Regin, a dragon who was bent on regaining the hoard Sigurd stole from his brother Fafnir. He didn’t get anything but the ring Katla bore.”

  I repeated the information to Alrik, who snarled, “Regin! He tried to kill my father, but failed. Now he will pay for the murder of my sister! Drive to him, Brynna. I will cut out his heart and cook it before his eyes.”

  “First of all—ew. Second, a dragon? Maybe when you were alive, but I can guarantee you that there are no dragons lurking around in the twenty-first century.”

  The Vikings behind me burst into laughter.

  Alrik patted my leg. “Dragons are shape shifters, Brynna. Even in my day, they preferred to appear in human form.”

  “Oh. Um…Paul?”

  “So glad you remembered I was here,” my cousin answered dryly. “And since I wish to get back to my warm bed and warmer wife, I’ll answer your next question: Stockholm.”

  “Huh?”

  “Regin is in Stockholm. Legend says he retreated to the Birger Jarls tower on Riddarholmen, the knight’s isle. That’s in Stockholm, the oldest part of the city. If he’s still around, then he might be there.”

  “Birger Jarls tower,” I said, digging through my memory of the brief visit I’d had in Stockholm. “Birger Jarl was a king?”

  “No. He was the founder of Stockholm,” Paul answered, yawning again. “Is that all you need?”

  I thanked him for his help and hung up, chewing on my lip as I started the car and headed down a bumpy dirt track for the main road. “We’re going to Stockholm.”

  “Excellent,” Alrik, said, his voice rife with satisfaction. I caught him caressing the sword that he still wore strapped to his belt.

  I had a feeling that was not a good sign.

  Nine

  W e were a few hours outside of Stockholm. I was perilously close to falling asleep at the wheel, which led to Alrik’s demanding a quickie driving lesson. I agreed, figuring it was a toss-up whether I fell asleep at the wheel and killed us or Alrik did from lack of experience.

  To my great surprise, Alrik took to driving like he had been doing it his whole life, so I ended up sound asleep while he drove the couple of hundred miles to Stockholm.

  After stopping at a gas station to get a map, I curled up with one of Alrik’s skins in the back of the Volvo, waking when he
gently shook my shoulder.

  “Brynna, you must wake up now. We are here.”

  “Huh? Wha?” Groggy, I blinked at the vision that appeared before me. A streetlight behind Alrik’s head gave him a bit of a corona, his eyes hidden in the shadows. I didn’t need to see his features clearly to want him, however. I grabbed his head with both hands and kissed him with every ounce of passion I felt.

  He groaned and pulled me from beneath the skin, completely out of the car, backing me up against the cold metal, his body hard and aggressive as he took over the kiss, his tongue pushing mine around, making my knees go weak with the intensity of his heat.

  My mind was a whirl of need and desire and something so wonderful it made tears prick behind my eyes. Dammit, I’d gone and fallen in love with a man with whom I had no future.

  “Käresta, I want you. I need you,” Alrik murmured against my skin as his lips burned a path along the side of my neck. I slid my hands along his back, feeling an answering need deep within me. Simple physical attraction I understood…but how could I feel so many other emotions about a man I just met?

  A polite cough sounded behind him.

  Alrik’s breath steamed against me in a sigh I felt down to my toes. With an effort, he pushed himself back. His eyes glittered with passion. “Later, käresta. I promise you that later I will repay you for your patience and generosity.”

  “I don’t want repayment,” I answered, clearing my throat at the husky sound of my voice. “I just want you.”

  “You do not know how that gladdens my heart. But before I can worship you as you are due, we must get the ring from Regin.”

  I glanced over his shoulder. The other Vikings were very politely ignoring us, standing with their hands clasped behind their backs as they gazed at the sixteenth-century round whitewashed tower butted up against two adjacent buildings. Behind me, water lapped at the concrete barriers, traffic thankfully nonexistent at this early hour.

  “Alrik…I don’t want to sound like a naysayer, but this is a very historic area. That’s Wrangelska Palace over there. Is it likely that an ancient dragon—even one in human form—is going to be living in a popular tourist attraction like this tower?”

  He stepped back, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, the slow smile curving his lips filled with so much menace, a little shiver rippled down my back. “Dragons have ways of not being seen if they so desire…but Regin will not escape me.”

  I made a mental note to never piss off a Viking, and followed Alrik and the others as they slipped across the darkened road, keeping to the shadows as they hurried to the door.

  In my mind dragons were giant fearsome creatures, known for their ability to breathe fire, consume virgins, and hoard treasure. The man Alrik eventually tracked down, a gray-haired, gray-skinned Asian man, slumped in a beat-up chair, clad in stained pants and tattered blue bathrobe, appeared to be anything but a dragon.

  “Aha! A dragon! Regin, son of Hreidmar!” Alrik yelled dramatically as he threw open the door, his sword raised high. “Prepare to meet your doom! It is I, Alrik Sigurdsson, come to avenge the death of my sister, Katla!”

  Regin slowly lifted his head and looked at us crowded in the doorway. One of his hands lifted in a limp gesture. “Well, you made it here at last. What took you so bloody long?”

  Alrik blinked a couple of times, then lowered his sword. “I was cursed for the last thirteen hundred years. Er…you aren’t surprised to see me?”

  Regin shook his head. I scooted around the Vikings—who had formed a wall of brawn in front of me—and stood next to Alrik.

  “Good Lord, no. I’ve been expecting you these last thousand years, praying for salvation. Would you mind not goring me as you probably wish to do? I can heal a gore mark, so a decapitation would be nice.”

  Alrik looked at me, then his men. They all appeared as confused as we were.

  “Um…pardon me for butting in, but we’re all a bit…well, confused,” I said, smiling politely at the despondent dragon. “You are Regin the dragon, are you not?”

  “Oh, yes.” The man sighed heavily, then slowly got to his feet, spreading his hands to show he was unarmed. Alrik tried to pull me behind him, but I moved back around to offer my hand to the dragon.

  His hand was damp and clammy and I surreptitiously wiped my palm on my pants. “I’m Brynna, and this is Alrik. He’s a Viking. That’s Bardi there with the long sword, his cousin Grim has the cross-bow, Jon is next to him with the daggers, and Torsten is the one waving the battleax.”

  “A pleasure to meet you all,” Regin answered, looking back at Alrik and me. “Would you prefer I kneel down for the beheading? Or should I stand? Do you have enough room to swing that sword in here? We can go outside, if not.”

  Alrik frowned. “Why do you not beg for your life? Do you have no honor? No dignity?”

  Regin gave a tired, despondent laugh that made me depressed just hearing it. “Do I have any honor, he asks. Any dignity. Oh, my, that is funny.” He made an attempt to straighten up, his very presence so dismal, so hopeless, it seemed to leach all the life out of everything. “My good Viking, I had dignity and honor once. Then I made the mistake of my life, the biggest mistake of the century. I killed your sister for my brother’s silly ring. And I have spent the last thirteen hundred years paying for my misguided sense of honor.”

  “Right. Now I’m totally confused,” I said, taking Alrik’s free hand to feel his warmth. The room was unheated and as gray and lifeless as its owner. “You want Alrik to kill you because you killed his sister?”

  Dull, hopeless eyes turned on me. “I seek death to escape my eternal torment, yes. You look like a nice female, sympathetic and kind. I don’t suppose you’d like to kill me?”

  “Um…”

  “You repent the killing of my sister, then?” Alrik asked, his eyes narrowed on the dragon.

  “Repentance has been denied me. You see before you a broken man, one living an existence of hell on earth, a perpetual torment so hideous I cannot even begin to describe it to you.”

  Alrik’s arm went around me, pulling me close. I leaned into him, filled with despair that seemed to soak into my bones from the air around us. “Were you cursed as well?” Alrik asked.

  “A curse is nothing compared to the hell I’ve suffered,” Regin answered. “Each night, I am tormented by the most heinous spirit—”

  In the distance, a horrible screech rent the air. Regin twitched, his hands over his ears. “Run! Save yourselves! It is upon us!”

  Alrik shoved me behind him again, holding his sword out in front of him. The others moved to stand in a protective circle around me. I stood on my tiptoes and peered over Baldi’s shoulder as a light started to form in the center of the room; my breath stuck in my throat as the thing so awful it could drive a dragon to this end appeared before us.

  “There you are, you disgusting excuse of a dragon! What a mess you are. Pew! You didn’t bother to wash again, did you? Look at you, just look at you! What a slob! You haven’t even changed your clothing! Odin save us, you reek! You could bathe once in a while, you know! It wouldn’t kill you! Oh my gods, look at the state of this room! I’ve seen pigsties with less filth!”

  The light formed into the shape of a person, solidifying into a young woman with light brown hair, wearing a bright pink exercise halter top and matching skin-tight pants. She stood over Regin, who had collapsed into a ball of misery, her hands on her hips, a disgusted expression twisting her features.

  Alrik took a step forward, squinting at her. “Katla?”

  The woman spun around, astonishment written in her face. “Alrik?”

  “Aye, ’tis me!”

  The woman squealed with pleasure, throwing herself on Alrik in a bear hug. “After all these centuries! How nice to see you again. You look very well. I thought you were cursed.”

  “I was.” He turned for me, holding out his hand, presenting me to his sister. “Brynna saved us. She is my wife now.”

  Katla cla
pped her hands then grabbed me in a fierce hug that came close to breaking my ribs. “You’re married! It’s about time. Are you with child yet? Oh, I so want to be an aunt! Have you seen Mother? She will be so excited.”

  “Excited isn’t quite the word for it,” I said, giving her a wry smile.

  Alrik explained the situation to her quickly. “We came to get the ring and avenge your death.”

  Katla smiled. “As if I couldn’t avenge my own death! Silly Alrik. I’ve been tormenting Regin since the day he killed me. But thank you for thinking of me.”

  The dragon lifted his head. “You see now the full extent of my hell. Please, if you have any mercy in your soul, kill me now! I can’t take another millennium of her!”

  “You disgusting little worm!” Katla turned on the man with much pleasure. “Stop groveling on the floor and stand up like a man. Dear God, are those urine stains on your pants? You are worse than the belly scum of a dung beetle! Go put on some decent clothes for a change!”

  “Please!” Regin begged. “I’ll give you the ring! I’ll do anything, just kill me now!”

  “Of course you’re going to give him the ring,” Katla answered, marching over to a small dingy cabinet. She pulled out a wooden box, making disgusted sounds as she poked through the contents, finally extracting a small, tarnished ring of what looked to be gold. “I cannot believe you are happy to live in such a state of dirt! It’s clear I’ve been too lax with you these last hundred years, but that will change starting tonight! You’re going to clean up this tower, and you can start right here with those windows. They’re almost as dirty as you are. Go get some cleaning products and rags.”

  Regin whimpered and collapsed on the floor, sobbing. “Save me! Save me!”

  “You don’t deserve saving, you pestilential boil on the buttocks of the world. Here you go, brother. Take it with my blessing.”

  “Kill me! Kill me!”

  Alrik accepted the ring, his lips pursing as he looked at the writhing man on the floor. “Thank you. Will you be all right with the dragon?”