“Let’s not get complacent.” He had to concede that Tanzi was right. It all seemed too easy. Lorcan too had imagined they would have to battle their way across the waters surrounding the Isles of the Aesir, yet this surreal journey had so far been completely free from strife. The only life forms they had seen were a few birds and some dolphins that had followed the boat before tiring of the game and swimming off.
The sun had been shining brightly all day, but now a chill breeze cut through the air as though a storm was looming, even though the sky was clear and the sea calm. Within minutes, the blue of the water had turned to gunmetal gray and the sky darkened abruptly like nightfall in the tropics.
“We spoke too soon.” Lorcan eyed the sudden changes with misgivings. Already, the waves were rising, their white crests standing out against the stormy backdrop. Spray slapped over the sides of the boat and the wind dragged at Tanzi’s hair, then whipped it across her face.
“We must be approaching Valhalla.” Tanzi had to raise her voice over the soaring wind.
Sure enough, ahead of them, another island began to take shape through the gloom. And there it was at last. Snow-peaked mountains rose so high they appeared to be reaching into the heavens. A lush green shoreline that, even with the storm obscuring the view, shone with a glint of pure beauty. There was no doubt in Lorcan’s mind that he was looking at Odin’s legendary home.
Tanzi gripped his arm, drawing his attention away from the island and up into the sky. Thick, black clouds—so low he felt he could reach out a hand and touch them—had gathered. Now they began to swirl and change shape. Within the billowing vapor, Lorcan could see figures beginning to form.
“What are they?” Tanzi watched the strange phenomenon with a mixture of absorption and trepidation.
“I don’t know, but I’m guessing they’re not our welcome party.” Lorcan knew his feisty little faerie all too well by now, and decided a word of warning was needed. She might be the most formidable fighting machine he had ever seen, but she’d taken a nasty beating from the Loup Garou and, despite her assurances to the contrary, he wasn’t sure she was completely healed. “Tanzi, if you try to fight these things single-handed, I’m going to take you down to that cabin and tie you to the bed.”
“Why don’t we save that particular fantasy for a more appropriate time?” She flashed him a look that, even in the uncertainty of the moment, caused molten heat to shoot straight to his groin at an alarming rate. It was scary how easily she could make him lose control. He loved it.
Dark, tormented faces appeared in the clouds, mouths stretched wide in endless silent screams. Huge hands reached down to them, giant, grasping fingers threatening to pluck the boat from the waves and hurl it into oblivion. Within the howling of the wind a new sound, a soft, imploring incantation, tugged at the edge of Lorcan’s sanity.
“Even I can’t fight those things.” Tanzi viewed the huge shapes with a combination of awe and disgust. “There is no substance to them.”
“They want us to go with them.”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere. I don’t think it matters. Their job is to turn us away from here. Either by scaring us or luring us.” Tanzi’s face showed her confusion. “That chanting is imploring us to follow them.”
“I don’t hear any chanting.” Tanzi cocked her head. “No, nothing.”
Lorcan released the wheel, gripping the sides of his head. “It’s inside my head. Hurts like hell,” he muttered.
Tanzi took charge. “Give me the wheel. They are working on us on two levels. Trying to scare us and at the same time preying on our empathy. If you can hold out, they won’t get any sympathy from me. I’m immune. And they sure as hell won’t scare me.”
“Has anything ever scared you?” Lorcan sat on the bench, keeping his head in his hands. It was easier if he didn’t look at the cloud shapes. Easier again if he could focus his thoughts on something other than that haunting refrain.
He couldn’t see Tanzi’s face, but her voice was curiously expressionless. “Only one thing.” She turned the subject quickly. “I think it must be worse for you because you are so perceptive to the feelings of others.”
Lorcan couldn’t respond. He couldn’t speak. The crooning voices were trying to take control of his mind. The sobbing, pleading and begging of a thousand broken souls sent pure agony pulsing through his head. It felt as if someone was systematically hammering at his skull with an ice pick. There was only one way to make it stop. Looking up, he could see Tanzi through the fog of his pain. She stood straight and proud. A tiny, defiant figure against a backdrop of gigantic snarling, jeering faces and clutching claws. The closer they got to the island, the wilder the onslaught became and the more intense the siren song inside Lorcan’s brain. He rose to his feet, staggering to Tanzi’s side.
“Take my hand.” If she could face them, so could he. With a supreme effort, he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. Pain so violent it nearly knocked him off his feet jolted from the base of his skull to the top of his head and back again. “They are not real.” He said it as loudly as he could, but it was little more than a whisper.
When the chanting changed and became a bellow, then a scream, he thought he’d misjudged it. Falling to his knees at the assault on his senses, Lorcan almost let go of Tanzi’s hand, but she retained a tight grip on him.
“You’re right.” Her voice was stronger than his, and she was able to tilt her face skyward. “They can only hurt us if we let them.”
The voices faltered, before attempting to resume their song. It no longer touched Lorcan’s sympathy in the same way. The tone changed. No longer a lullaby craving compassion, it became a self-pitying wail. The cloud shapes lightened and began to disperse.
“You can’t stop us.” His voice was stronger now and he twined his fingers more tightly with Tanzi’s, drawing on her strength. “We won’t turn back.”
A final melody, a last wheedling plea. The clouds faded from gray, to white, to nothing. Lorcan’s head, like the skies above the boat, cleared. He gave a whoop of delight and lifted Tanzi off her feet, twirling her around. “You are a little miracle. When you said only one thing had ever scared you, what was it?”
“This.” As he set her back on her feet, she burrowed closer to him.
He drew back slightly, frowning down at her. “You didn’t appear scared at all. And it must have been a bloody good act because those cloud monsters, whatever they were, didn’t pick up on your fear.”
Tanzi shook her head and he sensed frustration emanating from her. He could tell she wanted to say something more, and that whatever it was really mattered. Her lips parted, then she seemed to think better of it. Laughing, she lifted her face to his once more. “I had you all fooled, didn’t I?”
CHAPTER 18
The island resembled a tropical paradise, edged with sand as white as a mountain snowdrift and dotted about with enticing coral caves. Brightly colored seaweed and shells with the sheen of pearls lined their path as they hauled the dinghy up the beach and into the shelter of a cluster of palm trees.
Tanzi looked around, drinking in the golden sunlight, the little sandpipers running back and forth across the beach and the seabirds gliding in the air above her head. Waves swished against the rocks in a soothing rhythm, gulls cried a mournful tune and summer breezes murmured through the trees. It would be so tempting to pause awhile. Just sit on the rocks by the shore, and watch the seals bask in the sunlight or feed the beautiful swans.
Swans? Tanzi blinked and shook her head slightly to clear it. It made no difference. There really were swans. Dozens of them, gliding serenely on the crystal waters. Out of place and yet a clear message. She pointed them out to Lorcan.
“Yeah, that must mean we’re in the right place.” He eyed the swans in fascination. “Swans and Valkyrie. I guess the stories are true.”
Onc
e they were clear of the beach, the landscape changed dramatically. Hills, lined with green grass and bright flowers, rose up sharply from the narrow strip of coast. Above them, huge rocky peaks reached into the clouds, signaling that the island’s interior was the land of ice and snow they had been seeking. Tanzi pointed again, into the far distance. A rainbow spanned the highest peaks.
“Bifröst, the rainbow bridge. It is supposed to link Valhalla to Asgard, the city of the gods.”
Lorcan’s expression was unreadable as he studied the mountains. When his eyes returned to her face, she detected something there that she hadn’t seen before. She had seen pain in those blue depths many times, but this was something sharper and deeper. This was close to agony. Before she could ask him what was wrong, the look had vanished. Lorcan had forced it away and in its place was the Irish-charmer smile he showed the world.
“I’d say that’s your final destination then, wouldn’t you, Searc? Let’s see if we can find this grand palace they call Gladsheim.”
Still troubled by that look, Tanzi followed him onto the lower slopes of the hillside. On the boat, when Lorcan asked what frightened her, she was glad he’d misunderstood her. She’d come so close to blurting out the truth. To saying the words aloud. Loving you. Losing you. Nothing comes close to the fear of never seeing you again. Her feelings were a mirror of what she’d just seen in Lorcan’s eyes. This wasn’t meant to happen. When did we start to care so much? When did this—us—become all that mattered?
It was just as well they had arrived here at last. The sooner Tanzi could undertake her induction and Lorcan could get back to his wandering, the better. We’ll both look back on this as a pleasant interlude, nothing more. As Lorcan himself would say...sure we will.
The hillside quickly changed from gentle slope to steep incline, and they had to scramble to climb it. Their efforts were rewarded when they paused and looked back at the view below them. The island was stunning and the other isles, all clearly visible now, were spread out across the turquoise and cobalt waters like jewels scattered on a velvet cloth. Although all around them the wildlife was plentiful, there did not seem to be any signs of civilization on this particular island.
“This must be the island we seek,” Tanzi said. “The signs are all here.”
As they gazed in frustration at the landscape around them, sunlight struck the higher peaks. And there it was. On a perpendicular cliff, hundreds of feet above their heads, loomed the palace of Gladsheim. It was a huge structure built from the same burnished red sandstone as the mountains surrounding it. Imposing, invincible and yet with a strange haunting beauty, the fortress was deftly camouflaged so that it appeared to be part of the mountain range itself.
“How will we climb up there?” Tanzi wondered.
“Carefully.”
As they drew nearer, it was clear that the approach to the palace would be easier than it initially looked. Steps had been carved into the stone and, although these were narrow and treacherous, they were preferable to the alternative of attempting to climb the sheer rock face. Over an hour later, they arrived at the huge, gilt-decorated gates that marked the entrance to the palace. Their way was barred by two guards wearing horned helmets and carrying huge, long-handled axes.
Lorcan suggested in a whisper that Tanzi should do all the talking. “Sure, aren’t you good at that whole looking-down-your-nose-and-being-royal thing?”
“I am the Crown Princess Tanzi of the faerie dynasty. I seek an audience with Brynhild.” The words might be regal, but she wasn’t sure how convincing she appeared with her face flushed bright red and her breath coming in short, sharp bursts after the strenuous climb.
One of the guards looked her up and down. Mostly down, since he was at least a foot taller than her. “Brynhild is not in residence.”
It was hardly the response she had been hoping for. Nevertheless, Tanzi drew herself up to her full height. “Then we will await her return. Be so good as to stand aside.”
Lorcan’s intuition proved correct. Something in her manner swayed the encounter in her favor. Nodding, the guard gave a signal and the gates swung open, allowing them to step inside.
“Nice going, Searc,” Lorcan congratulated her. “You even had me a bit intimidated there.”
They stepped into a central courtyard that resembled a bustling market square with hundreds of people going about their daily business. Tanzi gazed around in confusion. “How are we supposed to know where to go from here?”
As if in answer to her question, a young woman emerged from the crowds. Her plump face broke into a smile of delight as though they were honored guests and she had been expecting them. “I am Flora. I am Brynhild’s maidservant, and it is my job to care for her guests. Please come with me.”
Tanzi threw Lorcan a look of surprise as they followed in Flora’s wake. “I wasn’t sure we would be made welcome.”
Flora glanced over her shoulder, her hearing obviously keen enough to pick up Tanzi’s whispered words. “My mistress believes that anyone who braves the Isles of the Aesir in order to seek her out deserves an audience. Once she has heard what they have to say, that is when Brynhild will decide whether they are worthy of further notice.”
“What happens to those who are not worthy?” Lorcan asked.
Flora appeared to have been afflicted with sudden deafness. Lorcan grimaced at Tanzi and she returned the expression before trying a different question. “When will Brynhild return?”
“Oh, very soon. The Valkyrie have been sent into battle in the mortal realm. My mistress leads the ride. She is Odin the Allfather’s chosen shield maiden, and she will bring back those warriors who must take up their place in Valhalla. Brynhild never stays away from Gladsheim for long.”
Flora led them through the throng and toward the castle entrance. Once they passed through the palace doors, the contrasting silence after the bustle of the exterior made Tanzi feel she had entered a sacred sanctuary.
“This is the Hall of Pearls.” Flora paused to allow them time to admire the grand, highly ornamented reception room. It was easy to see where the name came from, since the surface of the walls had a seashell-like luster. Oil lamps glowed from every alcove. Light bounced off the gold filigree ceiling and reflected the colors of the stained glass windows. The effect enhanced the sensation of celestial tranquility.
“The women’s quarters are this way.” Flora gestured to a corridor to her right. She turned to Lorcan, forestalling him before he could follow them. “Wait here and someone will escort you to a room in the men’s area of the palace.”
Tanzi directed an apologetic smile his way. “What will you do to make sure you don’t get bored while we await Brynhild’s return?”
His answering smile made her stomach do the strange flipping motion that only he could inspire. “I’ll think of something. Although—” he lowered his voice so that even Flora with her supercharged hearing couldn’t eavesdrop “—my preferred option for passing the time doesn’t generally involve you being in a different room.”
* * *
If she had been offered a choice, Tanzi would have taken life on board Igraine or on the Isle of Spae—as long as those options included Lorcan, of course—over life as a Valkyrie. But she had to admit that sinking into a gold-plated bath filled with steaming, scented water had its compensations. When she emerged, she found that Flora had taken her clothes away to be washed and had left an ivory silk robe and gold-colored sandals in their place. This was the lifestyle she had once taken for granted, she thought with a smile, as she fastened a gold cord belt around her waist. How quickly she had left it behind. And how little she missed it!
A soft knock on the door signaled Flora’s return. “I will escort you to the grand hall for dinner.”
The grand hall sounded promising. She might see Lorcan again. You are pathetic, she scolded herself as Flora led her alo
ng a series of ornate corridors. If you are missing him this much after one hour apart, how will you cope with forever? Since she already knew the answer to the question, she felt her spirits sink even further. To distract herself, she glanced around at her surroundings. They were crossing an open courtyard, bordered on all four sides by a high tower. In one of these, a young woman was leaning on the parapet looking out across the mountain scenery. Her waist-length red-gold hair caught the dying rays of the evening sunlight and, even across the distance, the haunting sadness of her demeanor communicated itself to Tanzi.
“Who is she?”
Flora sighed, her reluctance to discuss the matter obvious. “That is Silja, the youngest of Odin’s daughters. Before she was banished to a prison in that tower, she was my mistress and the most favored of the Valkyrie.”
“What was her crime?”
Flora glanced over her shoulder as though afraid someone might be listening. “Silja broke the Valkyrie code with a man. And, to make things worse, he was a mere mortal.” Her voice dropped to a horrified whisper. “The code is clear. The Valkyrie must remain pure in heart and body.”
Tanzi felt color flame in her cheeks. If that is the case, I might have a similar problem. I can hardly claim, by Valkyrie standards, to have been “pure of body” lately! In the circumstances, she decided it might be best not to mention her relationship with Lorcan during the induction process.
Her eyes traveled upward again to the tower where the lonely figure of Silja continued to gaze out across the darkening hillside. “How sad.”
“Yes, my poor young mistress was foolish. She spoke to this man, rescued him from the battlefield and tended his wounds. When Brynhild discovered her treachery, she was outraged and went straight to Odin with the story. Silja was banished to that tower for the rest of her days, never to ride again with the Valkyrie.”
“Wait a minute.” Tanzi stopped in her tracks, unable to quite believe what she was hearing. “Silja was imprisoned just for helping a man?”
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