The Viking Maiden Box Set

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The Viking Maiden Box Set Page 39

by Kelly N. Jane


  Ingrid was stunned and couldn’t figure out what to do. Should she stand with Jorg or give him some space? She glanced to Selby for help, but her focus was on Bremen.

  Finally, she turned to Galwain to ask the questions bothering her. “Did you look for him? Did you know the pain he had for being different and having to hide who he was?”

  The silver lining Galwain’s eyes slipped when she faced Ingrid. “I never knew where he’d gone. While elves don’t have the ability to control someone’s actions, they do have an ability to hear the thoughts of one they love. Jarrick would have been able to get the information from me if he’d found me, so I insisted that the sprite keep it a secret.”

  “Jarrick?” Ingrid spoke the name in a whisper that had the darkness in her head swell instantly.

  Jorg made a shocked sound as he narrowed his eyes. “My father is Jarrick? The dark elf?”

  The queen swallowed. “Yes.”

  “I need some air.” With that, Jorg flung the door open and strode out of the room.

  Ingrid sat stupefied for several seconds before rushing out to follow him. The darkness swirled in her head, and she couldn’t think straight. It was too much to process and they needed to figure it out together.

  When she ran into the courtyard, she didn’t find Jorg, but she skidded to a stop as a woman walked toward her.

  Eir had arrived.

  19

  Of all the times for the woman to show up. Ingrid stood staring at Eir, her chest heaving from running and the anxiety of Galwain’s information.

  “I’ve been searching for you.” Ingrid’s voice was barely above a whisper and tinged with relief.

  “I told you I would find you when you were ready, and now you are. Come, there is much to do.” Eir turned and walked away.

  Ingrid hesitated and peered over her shoulder in the direction Jorg had gone. The ache in her head became worse when the sticky essence jerked like a fish pulling a line. She pressed her fingers against her forehead.

  Everything that had happened—the entire reason they’d traveled so far—was to find Eir. With her free hand, she clutched the bead of her necklace. It hummed, and the energy in her middle sparked to life. The pressure behind her eyes eased, and she followed the goddess over the bridge toward the woods beyond.

  When Ingrid reached the tree line, she hesitated once again before plunging forward into the darkness. After fighting through underbrush and tree limbs that snatched at her like claws, she came upon an open field. There, standing in the center was Eir, facing Ingrid and waiting.

  I can do this. It’s who I am. Act strong, be strong.

  Ingrid straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and walked directly up to the goddess who radiated with an ethereal glow even in the daylight. She wore an indigo blue gown with embellishments of gold. Intricate embroidery crisscrossed between her breasts and around her abdomen, accentuating her shapely figure. A circlet of beading wrapped around her forehead and came to a point in the center above her eyebrows. Regal and steadfast, she held her hands clasped in front of her.

  Ingrid couldn’t pretend to understand what had made Eir decide the time was right, but she knew she was ready.

  “My powers have grown stronger, and I’ve learned to use them as we’ve traveled,” Ingrid said.

  Eir smiled, more cunning than comforting. “Is that so? Perhaps you have no need of my help at all then?”

  “That’s not what I meant. I’m just more capable than I was before.”

  “You have much to learn, and healing a few injuries does not require the level of powers you possess. If you want to be a traveling völva and earn coin for work as a simple healer, then you are right.”

  Ingrid shifted on her feet and blinked several times. Eir’s voice was soft and kind, but there was a sharpness to it that proved Ingrid had missed something. “I’ve never seen or heard of anyone who could do what I can.”

  “As long as you continue to pretend you command your abilities, you will not learn. Who are you, Ingrid? Why are you here?”

  Ingrid stared and opened her mouth to speak more than once, but each time, no words would form. Her mind was blank. “I don’t know who I am. That’s why I need you,” she finally said.

  “There is the truth. Bravado and arrogance only fool others. Sight has many forms. It’s not just about the ability to determine a person’s fate or have visions. It is also the ability to follow the ebb and flow of life and death in all things. To connect with the power of the Yggdrasil tree and all creation on every realm.”

  The air warmed, and a small breeze rose up to rustle the grasses. Eir’s long chestnut-colored hair floated around her shoulders as she stood tall and commanding.

  “Many have magic, but they are pretenders compared to what is inside of you. The power to See from the source of unlimited strength is only experienced by those the Norns of fate have selected. Your power is less of a gift than a responsibility and obligation. One you must wield carefully if you accept it.”

  Ingrid didn’t notice Eir move, but she suddenly stood inches away, her alabaster skin glowing with a brightness that made Ingrid want to shield her eyes. But she stood steady and did not flinch, even as the goddess placed her fingers against Ingrid’s forehead and everything went black.

  Her insides rolled, and the earth beneath her feet threatened to swallow her. The essence in her mind thrashed. The roar between the two unseen forces vibrated through Ingrid’s mind.

  Choose, Ingrid.

  A voice in the distance, nearly drowned in the din, called out to her. Choose? Choose. Another surge of pressure made her entire body clench. Sweat rolled down her back.

  I want to free you. Another voice, different from the first, called out.

  Like a fog of shadows and mist, tendrils dark and light swirled around her. A battle waged unseen but tore at every fiber of who she was. Both held pain. Both offered power. The suffocating vortex ripped at her. A demand and an offer.

  When there didn’t seem to be a way to end the torment, she thought of home. Those she needed to fight for. Those she loved. She cupped the runes in her pouch, and they warmed against her palm. Home and protection—everything that truly mattered.

  In the recesses of the darkness was a glimmer of light. The end of the cord that spread through her when she healed. Choose. She understood then. She controlled her own fate. The Norns chose a destiny for her, but she had to accept it for herself.

  The pain flared, and she felt her knees buckle. She grabbed hold of the cord and pulled. Light burst from behind her eyes, and when she thought she couldn’t hold on any longer, her mind went quiet and peace flooded through her.

  “Open and See, Ingrid.”

  The golden glow that surrounded her vision when she healed was back, only this time it was as if she had been cocooned inside it. It seemed as if the amber bead that hung from her necklace had engulfed her.

  Not trapped—there was no pressure or confinement. The golden light made everything clearer. Colors were deeper, edges sharper, and the patterns of every leaf, flower, and blade of grass distinguishable. Her body was light and airy; the darkness plaguing her mind no longer existed.

  Unlike before, her senses picked up the smallest nuances. At the far-off tree line, a squirrel hopped into its den in the side of a large pine to feed her hungry kits. An owl adjusted its feet on a high branch of a different tree, sleeping the daylight away.

  Her skin tingled with warmth all the way to her fingertips. It felt as if the sun itself wrapped her in its sweet embrace. Bees flitted from lavender to chamomile, sprinkling the air with their calming lullaby. Ingrid reached out and moved her hand through the air in a lazy ribbon-like motion, moving the particles around like dust motes.

  The glove on her arm drew Ingrid’s attention. With a slow, deliberate slide, she slipped it off and then the other. They fluttered like feathers, twisting over and landing with a whisper at her feet.

  Ingrid allowed the peaceful tranquility to fill
her soul. With each breath, each beat of her heart, it absorbed into her blood, her thoughts, and her emotions—like going home after a long absence. She felt whole.

  Nothing escaped her senses, yet she was not overwhelmed. Flowers gave off their sweet scent, and she could somehow see the droplets of their essence flow out in all directions. A butterfly fluttered close, powerless to do anything other than kiss the gentle petals.

  No single being acted alone. Every living creature, plant, and element breathed and connected to each other. Woven together in a pattern so intricate it was nearly impossible to separate.

  But, at the fringe of her consciousness was the awareness of another pattern—another thread of the fabric as necessary as all the rest. Like a phantom, it seeped into the beauty as it wound its way among the brightness. The shadow gave depth to the light, working together in balanced harmony.

  In the midst of the euphoria, a twinge of pain gripped her as a sparrow swooped down in perfect precision to pluck from the air the small butterfly she’d watched earlier. A mist of dust scattered in the breeze as the bird flew away, and every particle that landed on the grasses sparked with life as the two forces blended into one another. So quick, yet so necessary for balance.

  “Your power draws from the forces of the realms and brings them into focus. Good and evil, life and death, side by side. One without the other cannot exist.” Eir’s voice sang into her ears as if she was standing right next to Ingrid, but as she looked around, the goddess was nowhere in sight.

  Ingrid walked through the meadow, listening and touching the life all around her. “What now? How do I use this? When I heal, I follow the pathway to mend the injury I find. Is this the same?” she asked, believing the goddess could hear her from wherever she watched.

  “This is the first step. The spell that was cast is layered. There will be choices you have to make where you need to understand the balance which must be maintained. The man Finian, who you healed on the road. Which choice did you make for him?”

  “I stopped the poison.” How did she know about that?

  “How?”

  Ingrid cringed. There wasn’t any use lying to the woman, she obviously already knew what had happened. “I stopped the organ that was leaking. I couldn’t figure out what else to do.”

  “Exactly, which is why you are lucky that he survived because it was a non-essential part of his body. The same decision could bring death. You will have to learn when that might be the appropriate response, and not by guessing.”

  “How would it be right to use my gift to take someone’s life? I would never do that!” Ingrid was shocked Eir would suggest such a thing.

  “And that is why you are not ready.” Eir’s voice was soft, kind, but also curt.

  No. This couldn’t be right. It wasn’t what she should be learning. Her job—her destiny—was to ensure that all life had a chance. To make sure they would all live. How could Eir be telling her there might be a time that her gift would be used for destruction? That’s what Jarrick had wanted.

  “Show me. Show me what I need to understand to bring safety to my family. Show me so everyone will be safe.”

  Ingrid stumbled over the bridge, her mind a jumble of thoughts. She didn’t know how long she’d been in the meadow. Hours? Days perhaps? Numbness coated her limbs, and she could only think about a warm bed and enough rest so everything she’d learned would make more sense.

  “Ingrid!” Jorg’s voice rang out from across the courtyard. “Where have you been?” He reached her before she had time to answer. Standing there in front of her, his grassy scent filled with the freshness of spring lightened the air. She sighed.

  “I was with Eir, in the meadow.”

  “She’s here?” He touched her fingers. “You were right then, this was the place you needed to be.”

  All around them, people milled about, doing their evening chores and eyeing the two strangers. They quickened their pace when they’d have to move near Ingrid and Jorg.

  “You just returned, and you look exhausted, but will you go for a walk with me? Not far, just so we can have a moment alone.” Jorg’s voice was soft, and when Ingrid met his eyes, they were full of questions. They were so open and honest that her heart skipped, and she couldn’t say no.

  She smiled and nodded. I always have time for you.

  Jorg closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around hers. He stepped to her side, and they walked back over the bridge.

  In the cool darkness of the trees, they found a fallen log. Soft moss made a comfortable chair as they sat side by side. Damp soil gave an earthy smell to the air, and tiny tan mushrooms grew in a small ring on the ground near their feet. Ingrid dangled her hand over the edge and used one finger to trace the top of the mushroom closest to her that was illuminated by a ray of light filtering through the treetops.

  “I found a ring like this once. Mama called them an elf circle. She said if you stepped inside, it would trap you in the realm of elves forever. It doesn’t seem like a very fun story anymore.”

  “Unless we go there together. Then it wouldn’t be so bad. Trapped forever without any worries. I might be convinced to give that a try.” A wry grin tugged at one corner of Jorg’s mouth.

  “Where did you go? I followed you, but then I ran into Eir. I had to go . . . it’s why we’re here.”

  “I would have been upset with you if you hadn’t gone.” Jorg paused and rubbed his thumb over her fingers. “I thought you might be angry at me for trying to drag you off and then storming out alone. I’m sorry for all of that.”

  “Although, I could’ve done without the dragging part, I wasn’t angry with you. Not after what Galwain said.” Ingrid played with the end of her braid. On the inside, her stomach churned with the curiosity of how their lives were changing and what it could mean. “Where did you go?”

  “I found men training and joined them. It took a little convincing, but when I offered to stay weaponless, they obliged.”

  Ingrid pushed away to look at his face, searching for marks or bruises. “Are you hurt?”

  He scoffed. “I’m a good fighter.”

  She rolled her eyes and settled back next to him. “You still get injuries.” They sat in silence, enjoying being alone together for a couple of minutes.

  “Did Eir take you far? To Asgard?”

  “We only walked out to a meadow, not far from here. I’m not sure I can describe what happened. It was as if she opened my Sight in a new way.” Ingrid grew quiet as she recalled the new sense of power, both light and dark, and shuddered.

  “Are you getting cold? We should go back.”

  “I’m okay.” So much was changing for her, and it was only the beginning. With Galwain and her news, it was changing for both of them. “I’ve spent my whole life fighting to do something grand, something larger than myself, without understanding that there was a bigger reason for my dreams than I could imagine.

  “If I’d been given the chance to prepare and know who I am, what I’m expected to do . . . Maybe our families wouldn’t be in danger now.” She paused, then decided to push forward with what pressured her thoughts. “For so many years, you’ve had to hide who you are and wonder why.” Jorg huffed but didn’t interrupt. “Galwain has answers. You can finally understand and feel settled within yourself.”

  “Every time we had to move because people would find out about me, I’d get angry that I was different. That anger is still there, and I battle it constantly. When I met Hagen, his confidence amazed me . . . how secure he was with his place in the world. It was the first true friendship I’d ever made, but I’d still get angry at him sometimes.”

  Jorg shook his head and looked out into the space beyond Ingrid. “I’d wonder why I couldn’t be accepted for who I am, like he was, or why I didn’t get the chance to have his confidence. It would eat me up inside until I’d go out to the woods by myself and hit a tree, or run, or hunt, or something that would allow me to lose some control. I would embrace my anger. I’m not
as good as you think I am.”

  Ingrid’s heart ached. A sting threatened to spill tears at his childhood pain, but she forced herself to take even, steady breaths and keep calm. He was good and kind, and she would do whatever she could to help him see that.

  “I love my mother, the one who raised me, but when she walked in yesterday, I couldn’t breathe. In my heart, I sensed an instant connection. Yes, I would like to know her, but how can I accept . . . the other?” He stared at the elf ring at their feet, then continued in a low voice. “Why would you want to stay with me since I am part of him?”

  Ingrid twisted on the log to face him. “I have watched you for years. You are a great friend, a strong warrior, a sensitive son, and the most handsome man I have ever seen. Nothing Galwain has to say, or who your father is, will change how much I love you.”

  Then Jorg stiffened and sat straighter as he listened. Ingrid didn’t move. She’d seen him act that way too many times not to recognize the danger he sensed interrupting their moment.

  It wasn’t just quiet in the shade of the trees—it was as if all life held its breath, waiting for whatever hid among its branches and leaves to show itself. When Ingrid faced forward again, he nudged her with a glance that said not to reveal her awareness. ‘Let it come to us,’ he seemed to say.

  “We should get back. It’s getting late,” Jorg said calmly.

  Ingrid rose to her feet and nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak, knowing the wobble in her voice would betray her nerves. It didn’t matter, though. Before they could take three steps, a half-dozen or so men armed with weapons stepped out from behind the trees and rushed forward.

  Jorg instantly drew his axe and charged. Ingrid pulled her daggers into each hand but hesitated as her powers flared to life.

  I don’t need these.

 

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