Ingrid, The Viking Maiden (Viking Maiden Series Book 1)

by Naomi Jane Kelly

  "Are you sure about that? Is it dark out now? I can't see anything out your window."

  "My window is glamoured, inside and out. It makes me feel like I'm back home. It is late, so it is dark out, rest assured," Plintze said.

  "You know for a fact that dragons don't hunt at night?" Ingrid strained to see out the window despite knowing there was nothing to see.

  "I know it for a fact. Besides, if the dragon is searching for you, like I would bet my life that it is, your presence with your friends would be worse for them, not better."

  His words were spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, not intending to cut into her heart, but they did. Ingrid sat still and let it sink in. They're safer without me. He's right. Slumping her shoulders, she exhaled a long breath and nodded. "You're right. I will stay here tonight, but I'm leaving first thing in the morning. That way the dragon, or the Elves, or anything else sent to find me will be drawn away from them and toward me instead. They'll make it home safe that way." She looked at Plintze, a half smile tugging at one side of her mouth while she nodded. "That will work. It's the best plan to make sure they are safe. Thank you, Plintze, for everything. You are wonderful and I'm so happy I got to meet you."

  Plintze stared at her saying nothing, but his mustache twitched again. "We should get some sleep." Standing up and putting the box back on the mantle, he walked over to his bed along the wall and sat down.

  Ingrid kept her eyes on the box, "I'm sorry about your mother."

  "What?"

  Turning toward him, a wash of empathy flooded over her. Banished from his home and alone, she wanted to give him a hug. "If she was alive, I don't think you'd have her box." All the emotions of thinking about her friends had caused her to interrupt the end of his story.

  Clasping his hands together in his lap, he stared at the floor. "She isn't dead. When I gave her the box she lit up with the biggest smile I'd ever seen. It was one of her greatest treasures. When I was banished, the high council forced her to give it back to me and renounce me as her son. If she hadn't she would have been banished, too, and I wouldn't allow that."

  A tear slid down Ingrid's cheek. Not caring if he'd like it or not, she flung herself across the room, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. At first he stiffened and pulled against her, but she didn't let go, slowly feeling him relax until his head leaned into hers. Comfort seeped both directions, filling loneliness they each wanted to ignore. Releasing him, she sat back and looked him in the eyes. "Your mother still loves you. In her heart no one could take that away. I know it is true because you are a good man, Plintze."

  Plintze made a noise in his throat and picked at a thread on his pants. "Humph, I'm not a man," he said, but his eyes had a sparkle to them. "Get some sleep." He laid down and covered himself with a blanket.

  Ingrid smiled and scooted over to the fire, curling up in her blanket with her back to him. The flames shrank down to small, glowing embers, but the room stayed cozy and warm.

  Before dawn began to lift the veil of night, Plintze handed Ingrid her pack as they stood outside of his door. The bag felt heavier as she settled it over her back.

  "You know the way to go, right?" he asked.

  "Yes, you've been clear and I'm confident I know the way. My pack feels heavy. Did you do something to it?"

  "I made sure you have enough to eat. You are scrawny."

  Ingrid smiled at him and grabbed his shoulders for a hug too quickly for him to duck away. He sighed in exasperation patted her back, returning her gesture for a quick second before pulling away.

  "I will never forget our friendship, because that's what it is. Be safe and I hope we see each other again," she said to him when she pulled back.

  He nodded to her and shuffled his feet. "Now go. You need to hurry."

  She turned and jogged off toward home, her heart full and renewed with hope.

  18

  Walking in a valley, alongside a creek, Ingrid enjoyed the company of twittering birds as they created happy melodies against the light blue sky. Absent of rain, clouds floated aimlessly overhead like light-hearted reminders that all would be well, while she stooped down to fill her flask from the bubbling water before heading up the hillside. On a different journey, with time to explore, she might have kept following the creek winding its lazy way toward the village, unworried without a single care. This was not the time for such pleasures. She held a firm grip on her anxiety as she hurried along at a steady pace, ensuring she'd have enough strength to make it home before nightfall.

  Carried on the breeze the scent of burned wood from an extinguished fire reached Ingrid's nose. Still miles away from the village, she couldn't imagine it was anything more than a wildfire, likely started by a spark off Thor's hammer. Catching her breath, she thought of Hagen and her friends pulling him toward safety. When she reached the top of the hill, a view of more knolls and valleys stretched before her, marking an end to the marshy moors and signaling harder walking ahead. Then the blackened earth caught her attention. Trees like charcoal sentinels stood bare and gnarled, dirt so scorched nothing would grow or thrive on it for years. It could not have been a natural occurrence. It held the sinister tingle of magic, the hint of rotten eggs and of a beast that roamed the skies and torched on a whim. A bead of sweat trickled down Ingrid's spine like a spider. She shuddered and forced her knees together to keep them steady. Looking heavenward, she scanned for any hints of a dragon and found nothing but a few strands of clouds pulled thin like fleece.

  The birds won't even fly over this.

  Here and there trees and shrubs stood untouched, surrounded by desolation, as lonely reminders of what once was. The entire landscape looked as if a toddler had had a nasty tantrum and thrown its toys in a random frenzy. Exposed and vulnerable, Ingrid would have to pass through the dark barrenness no matter which direction she chose to walk.

  I have to get home. Keep walking, Ingrid, and don't think about anything else.

  Muscles tight and eyes alert, she pushed her shoulders back and focused on the first patch of unscathed brush, striding forward with long, smooth steps. Within feet of her goal, she squeezed her eyes shut as tremors rolled throughout her body at the deafening screech that pierced the sky behind her. Running the last few steps, she dove into the brush and clawed her way as deep within the twisted branches as she could. Wedged within the flimsy cover, she struggled to roll over and peer through the leaves into the sky.

  Circling low, a dragon larger than the last one glided overhead. Black scales shimmered in the light with green and blue like boiled tar. Horn-like spikes protruded from the massive head like a crown and ruby red eyes glittered in Ingrid's direction. Where the first dragon had wings that were thin enough for light to flow through, the skin between the bones of this beast was thick like dark leather and longer, sharper claws tipped the ends like swords. Making a lazy circle over Ingrid's hiding place, it flew away from her and she held her breath hoping she'd been lucky again, but then it turned on itself and came back with a thunderous flap of its wings. With a gentle exhale, the taloned feet landed on the ground, and folding its wings into its body, it stood facing Ingrid on all four massive, muscled legs. A heavy breath, barely a whisper, would be all it took to fire the thicket she hid within. Sweating and dizzy, her heartbeat thrashed inside her ears while she searched for anywhere else to hide. An ash tree rose high into the air about ten steps away, large enough to better shield her if she could untangle her legs and move faster than the flames. Blinded by a flash of light, Ingrid threw her arms in front of her face. A metallic taste entered her mouth when she screamed and the scent of pepper and cinnamon washed over her. Unscathed and confused she peeked over her hands when her eyes adjusted to the daylight again. The dragon cocked its head and curled its lips, as if in a smile, exposing its gleaming white teeth, sliding its tail in a slow arc from one side to the other, carving away the soil underneath with each pass.

  "Hello there, I've been searching for you for quite some tim
e," a voice, oily and dark, seeped into her thoughts. The dragon didn't move its mouth and as detestable as it was, the sound didn't match the creature. There was something else to this monster--as if it were imbued with a spirit that didn't belong to it, shimmering waves of evil hovered over the massive body. Ingrid could feel its presence. Unlike the cloak worn by the wolf-man she'd met earlier, this was different, not a borrowed skin, but a vessel.

  "Who are you?" she asked with more strength than she felt.

  "I could be a friend, if you'll allow it. We can do great things together, you and I. There is a purpose we both share, my lady, and I would be honored to have your presence by my side." The words again flowed a blackness into her brain even as they were spoken like a nobleman. Strange and menacing, a power seeped into her consciousness.

  Ingrid shook her head, unable to form words, her breaths coming too quick and shallow as she stayed within her hiding place.

  "There, there, don't be so afraid, child. I used this beast to search for you, but it won't hurt you if I don't allow it. I could not wait for someone else to stumble across your path before we met, so I employed many search methods. Unfortunately, you are not near enough to me for a personal introduction and we must speak through our friend here." Sticky, like black honey, the voice oozed into Ingrid's head, pushing against her consciousness, making her wince.

  Digging deep into her willpower, she crawled forward out of the brush and stood tall, yet her knees wobbled and her hands trembled. The wrapping on her hand that Jorg had tied for her unraveled and hung by her side. "I'm no one special. Why would you look for me? You must be mistaken," she said, hoping it was true but knowing it wasn't.

  A laugh, throaty and deep flooded her senses. "I'm sure you are who I seek. Surely you don't think I'd be that easy to fool? Ingrid, sweet child, you have so much to learn."

  "You know my name?" Ingrid whispered and sucked in her breath.

  "Of course I do. As I said, I've had many helping me to find you. I'm pleased to meet you, albeit in this awkward manner. My home is far from here, but I would like to invite you to join me so we can discuss our shared destinies. I will have my scouts come to you and escort you to me--that way your safety can be insured."

  "Who are you?"

  "My apologies, I have been remiss in introducing myself. I am Jarrick of Alfheim, crowned prince and brother to Thelonious, King of the Elves. At your service, my lady."

  Ingrid shook her head when the dragon looked as if it bowed its head slightly. The words were spoken in a manner of someone high born and noble, true enough, but evil simmered from the beast in front of her. No one with pure intentions could ally with such a force. Everything Hnossa told her crashed against the words shared by Plintze: "The Dark Elves sought to restore Vanaheim and heal the rift on Alfheim;" "Dark magic never has a good purpose, only someone trying to deceive you would say so;" "The Dark Elves don't want to make Vanaheim equal to Asgard, they want to make it more powerful."

  Trembling, she forced herself to speak. "You are the Dark Elf, the one who wants to destroy Asgard."

  The dragon huffed a gust of rotten egg smell toward Ingrid, causing her to turn her face and fight her gag reflex while her arms felt warm like a mild sunburn.

  "So, you've spoken to one of my enemies. That's not how I hoped we could begin our relationship." The voice held a sharp edge of irritation. Ingrid glanced toward the ash tree and tried to calculate how fast she could run. "You have been misinformed, as expected from any fool that would oppose me. You will understand and agree with me once we have a chance to meet in person."

  "Why would you introduce yourself by name?"

  "There is power in a name, but only the weak can be controlled by it. Be careful whose advice you take. A simple mind cannot possibly understand the responsibilities of those like us who are charged with greatness, Ingrid. You will learn that when you train with me."

  "What happens if I refuse to come with you? If I choose to follow my destiny alone?"

  The dragon roared, shaking the ground and causing Ingrid to lose her balance. Using the motion as an opportunity, she sprinted toward the tree and flattened herself to its large trunk. Relief washed over her to have the barrier between herself and the dragon, even though she knew it was most likely a futile effort.

  "Ingrid," the voice slammed against her mind, making her scream in pain. "Ingrid, my dear, I'm sorry to cause you pain. You need to understand that you must work with me--there is no other option. I have worked too hard for far longer than your pitiful human existence can comprehend to have a small child stand in my way of achieving the greatest accomplishment the nine realms have ever seen. Success would be easier with you, but if you choose to defy me, it will not stop me. You will only make yourself expendable."

  Exhausted, Ingrid stayed frozen to the rough tree bark. An odd sensation of confidence mixed with crippling fear flooded through her, coating her thoughts and pushing against her free will. Fighting against the invasion, grasping as if to keep from drowning, she mentally created a barrier, pushing against it as if it were a door she could close and lock herself away, safe and secure. A tightness squeezed her chest, taking concentrated effort to stay standing and not double over into a ball, crying. Gripping the bark of the tree, splinters forced their way into her palms and fingertips as she slowed her breathing, squared her shoulders, and inhaled deep, cleansing breaths. One hand on the tree, she stepped sideways and exposed herself to the dragon.

  "I am not expendable. By Freya and Odin I have the gifts of sight and healing to add the power of Midgard to the spell cast long ago and bind it for all the ages," Ingrid smiled and shook her head. "Thank you for your belief that I am the one you seek, because now I believe it, too. I didn't want to, but you have convinced me I have to follow my destined path. I will not follow you, Prince Jarrick." Ingrid stood tall, the full acceptance and understanding of her destiny clear.

  "That spell is a curse. It allows the Aesir to rule with their over-inflated egos, for their own purposes. They are liars and cheated in order to defeat Vanaheim. Justice must be served, and the rightful leaders must be restored for the sake of all realms. Work with me, help me to accomplish what the others gave up on--peace and equality."

  "I won't."

  "Pity. Our accomplishments together would have no rivals, but," Jarrick sighed, not with a heavy heart but with acceptance, "if this is what you choose, so be it. I would have liked to know you better, Ingrid. Goodbye."

  A flash of light, as before, bounced off the dragon's scales in a sparkling array of colors and blinded Ingrid as she jumped behind the ash tree, pressing her body close to the trunk. Heat blasted at the tree and bushes around her, singeing the ends of her hair as it blew into the air.

  I hope I have chosen right. Freya, if I am truly the one to bind the spell, please help me now.

  When the flames stopped, the ash tree stood strong in front of Ingrid. Unblemished, it protected her and she pressed against it. A gust of wind and a rumble through the ground announced the dragon's return to the skies, followed by a shriek that curdled the blood. Burnt wood and earth scented the air. When Ingrid looked around, all she could see was the charred bits of what remained of the lush growth. In the air the dragon, free from the influence of dark magic, became a predator once again, hunting for a prized possession, a toy rather than food. No longer taking lazy circles in a search grid, it concentrated its efforts toward the tree in front of Ingrid, this time shooting flames from her right. She slid around in time that only her skirt caught on fire, which she patted out with ease.

  Shooting past like an arrow off of new string, the dragon flew over Ingrid and turned to come at her from another angle. Flames scorched what remained of living brush, leaving a desolate landscape for Ingrid to find cover, knowing she couldn't hide behind the ash any longer. Not more than twenty feet away, she spotted a pile of rocks hiding the opening to a small hole. A flash of light mixed with blistering heat shot out toward her. Diving to the side she escape
d the main blast but screamed when her shoulder and upper arm bubbled and burned. Falling to her knees and grabbing at her arm, she cried out again. Swooping down the merciless talons reached out for her, missing her body but slicing into the forearm she raised to block her face as it sailed over her. Before the dragon could turn around and head back to her, she darted as fast as her legs could go, diving head first between the rocks. There was just enough space for her small shoulders to make it through and then she was in cool darkness, surrounded by the scent of fresh, unburned dirt. Clumps of dirt fell onto her when the dragon slammed back down onto the ground. Ingrid scrambled deeper into the small burrow. She pulled herself through the earth until it opened into an abandoned den and curled up, pressing herself against the back of the hole. Shrieking and clawing, the massive animal raged in a fury to find its lost prey. Ingrid could feel the vibrations as the ground trembled while the dragon walked to and fro hunting for her.

  Huddled in the dark, she made herself as small as possible. The burns on her arm screamed, but it was the slice through her flesh that worried her. Holding her hand over the wound, she didn't feel the warm tingle of healing. Not once but twice the giant face leaned down, turning a blazing red eye into the cave and then stomping away. Remembering what Plintze had told her about the poor eyesight of the beast, she relaxed a little and prepared to stay as long as necessary inside her hiding place. Guilt cut her in two like a sharp axe when she thought of her home and family, vulnerable and at the mercy of Jarrick and his forces. If she could rest and get her gash to stop bleeding, maybe the dragon would leave and she could still make it home before the others.

  Why won't this close? I accept it, I'm the healer, so stop bleeding already!

  Spots danced at the edges of Ingrid's vision. Dirt rained down on her as the dragon still stomped around outside, but she cared less and less about him. Keeping a vice-like grip on her arm, she leaned her head against the cool earth and closed her eyes.