by T. G. Ayer
He picked up a long pincer-like tool and gripped the leaf with one pointy end. Then he thrust it to the fire.
I inhaled, shocked, terrified he'd melt the little leaf; my special gift would dribble all over the hot coals.
I opened my mouth, about to shout, "No!" but my lips had barely parted when he yanked the leaf away from the fire and laid it onto the end of a metal rod. Then he used a pair of metal pliers to bend the leaf around the rod. I didn't breathe.
Just watched.
At last he sighed, a sound plump with satisfaction. He twisted his generous bulk to face me, sweat gleaming on his ham-sized forearms, a proud cheery grin on his round, reddened face, and held the leaf out to me.
For one horrible instant, I knew I'd been right and he'd destroyed my precious leaf. Then I saw what he'd done.
Beautiful.
I picked the leaf off Njall's palm and rolled it onto the tip of my finger. The golden leaf was now a golden ring. I’d never once imagined the leaf in the form of a ring. A brooch or an earring, maybe. A ring—no.
And yet it worked. I slipped the ring onto my finger and found it slid on smoothly, a perfect fit, curling around the digit as if it belonged there.
***
My pleasure with my shiny new leaf-ring provided a little distraction from the debacle with Joshua. Until almost three hours later, when a Huldra brought me a note, summoning me to a council of Valkyries, Warriors and Ulfr.
We gathered in a small hall I hadn't been to before. The runes carved into the door declared that the room belonged to Fenrir, son of Loki. I entered in silence, finding a seat without drawing too much attention.
Joshua was there. We hadn't spoken yet, not since that horrible moment when I'd gone all multiple-personality on him and almost sliced him in half.
Laughter rang around me, but the sound barely penetrated the fog in my mind—the cold, bleak fog of fear and self-recrimination. My sword hand shivered, and I tucked it under the table, hoping no one had noticed. My eyes flitted over the scout team gathered to discuss whatever topics scout teams discussed: Fen and Sigrun, Aimee and Mika, and various Ulfr I knew only by sight.
And Joshua.
Looking up at him through my lashes, my heart drummed to the beat of guilt. He must have sensed me staring. He looked up and our eyes met across the table. My heart jumped again, but those deep black eyes no longer burned with anger, or accusation either—just concern, mirrored in the creased frown on his forehead. The slight curve of his lips formed a kind smile, more hurtful than the verbal lashing I deserved. I shivered and looked down. I wasn't sure I could trust myself to spar with a friend again.
When I glanced back up, Joshua was still watching me with a sad yet contemplative expression. He held my gaze, as if trying to comb through my mind for an explanation for the whole psycho-Bryn episode that morning. Never was I happier for an interruption than when Fen rose, took his place at the end of the long table and yelled for silence.
"Very well, team. We have gathered to get acquainted and to familiarize ourselves with the plan for our visit to Midgard." Fen launched into an in-depth explanation of our mission: something about North Africa and the drop in new Warrior recruits and how the scout teams were spread around the globe in small groups that struggled to find new einherjar. Eager to get going, I leaned forward to interrupt and ask Fen when we would be leaving, but he silenced me with a dark scowl. I still wasn't on proper speaking terms with him, so I clamped my mouth shut and waited.
"We have a team of nine. Each Warrior and Valkyrie has their respective Ulfr partners. I trust you will take every opportunity to get to know each other better. Above everything, we need to maintain the utmost trust in our partners. Our lives may depend on it."
After a few more minutes, Fen rounded up his presentation, and everyone rose to their feet; the room filled with the rustling of clothing, the clinking of swords and armor and the scraping of wood on wood as benches were moved aside. Around me, Warriors and Ulfr paired off with each other.
Everyone except for me.
I frowned. Why the hell was nobody bothering to tell me who my Ulfr was? The others, deep in conversation with their new partners, walked two-by-two down the hall to another great table, where a gaggle of Huldra served food and Mead, along with cheerful grins and smiling eyes. I followed alone. It reminded me I'd always been alone and should be used to it.
That was the simple truth of it. People left. There are always some, like my mother, who just up and leave because they want to. And then there are those who die on you. My fisted fingers trembled beneath the table, and I stretched and squeezed them, hoping to shake off the strange heat building beneath my flesh.
At least I still had Joshua. I hoped. Even though he'd also gone and died on me, thanks to the Fates' intervention he now sat across the table from me, chatting with his Ulfr partner and wolfing down roasted beef and fresh-baked bread, as if I'd only imagined the crunching of metal and the deadly accident.
Nearby, Sigrun grinned and talked to a large, muscle-bound Ulfr whose chiseled features could only be described as lupine.
A touch at my arm drew my attention to Mika, my Ulfr sparring partner from a while back. Her smooth, pale skin and almond eyes never failed to surprise me. She didn't look much like the other Ulfr. Mika seemed too beautiful for the whole snarling, toothy, hairy wolf thing.
"Hello, Bryn." She sat beside me, sliding a mug toward me. I wrinkled my nose, not keen on drinking more of the awful Asgard ale, and she laughed. "What? Don't you like it?"
"Ick. How can you drink that stuff?" I rolled my eyes and pushed the mug away.
Mika's giggle coaxed a weak smile from me. "Oh, no. It's not the usual ale," she said. "This is a lovely apple cider that we buy in the village." She pushed the mug toward me again, but as she spoke, she flicked her gaze across the table toward Joshua.
Joshua paused in his conversation with his Ulfr partner and returned her smile, and even in my sour mood I could see the chemistry flash between them.
Joshua and Mika? No way.
I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Joshua and an Ulfr?
For want of something to do, I wrapped my fingers around the carved mug, forced them to stop shaking and took a tiny, careful sip at first, in case it was some kind of trick. But it wasn't. The cider filled my mouth, teasing my taste buds with pure divine goodness. Not as honey-sweet as the Mead, but just as delicious.
"Thank you." I grinned, a little warm and fuzzy from Mika's drink. When a slightly flushed Joshua leaned forward and introduced himself to Mika, I watched in silent amusement. It didn't take long before I concentrated on sipping my cider slowly, keen to avoid looking at the two of them blushing and making goo-goo eyes at each other, preferring to enjoy my drink without the cringe factor, thank you very much.
At last Mika tore her gaze from Joshua's and leaned closer to me. "Everyone is very eager to leave for Midgard, you know."
I nodded politely, probably the only one reluctant to return to Midgard. The loneliness of it punched me in the gut.
"Well, I see the two of you are getting acquainted," Fen remarked, tapping the shoulder of the Ulfr next to Joshua and nodding a dismissal; the Ulfr rose, bowed and hurried away. Fen sank into the vacated seat beside Joshua, eyes flitting from the younger man to Mika and back again.
Joshua's smile thinned, and he responded with a hesitant up-and-down motion that looked more like a tic than a nod. He looked away from the Ulfr general, his gaze running smack into Mika's. Then he scanned the room as if desperate for someone to call him away. I held in a giggle, partly amazed and partly amused—and, oddly, partly annoyed—as Joshua sat there, torn between his fear of Fen and his attraction to Mika.
"Excuse me," he croaked as he rose from his seat. "I have to . . ." He made his getaway, not bothering to finish the thought, leaving Fen, Mika and I to stare after him.
Fen shrugged. "Bryn, I have not told you who your Ulfr is yet." He glanced at Mika, and they shared an odd look.
I held my tongue, knowing that if I opened my mouth I'd no doubt say something I couldn't retract. My anger with Fen tested my self-control.
He seemed to understand, giving me a tiny nod. "Mika will be your Ulfr," he said softly.
Mika's eyebrows shot in the air, her surprise way too obvious. "But you said—"
Fen cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I have changed my mind."
Mika scowled. "You do realize that means you will be Joshua's Ulfr?"
Fen bristled at her dry, disrespectful tone, and I laughed so loud I almost choked as I hurried to swallow the last sip of my divine drink.
"You and Joshua?" I asked, not even bothering to swallow my giggle.
Fen looked puzzled. His brow wrinkled as he asked, "What? Why is that a problem?"
Mika and I exchanges incredulous stares, both shaking our heads. For a while, I forgot my anger.
"You have some work to do then, Fen," I remarked. "You wouldn't want poor old Joshua to get nervous and slice you in two by accident, would you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Joshua is a tiny bit afraid of you, Fen." It had been on the tip of my tongue to refer to Fen as the big bad wolf, but again I had the good sense to shut up.
Fen shrugged. "Fear can be a useful tool for a Warrior," he said, rising and dismissing us with a single stern nod. "So can rest. I suggest you get some. We will start our mission at dawn."
I raised my eyebrows, unsure how Joshua's fear of Fen would make him a better Warrior. I ignored the temptation to voice my thoughts.
An insidious chill crept down my spine. When it came to being a better warrior, I was pretty sure there was one thing I had over the rest of the team.
A strange brand of unadulterated rage.
Chapter 11
A loud knock roused me from a deep sleep—a Huldra with an urgent summons from old One-Eye. In the thick of night, I hurried to Odin's Hall to find the All-Father awaiting our arrival. But no Fen. There Odin sat, looking minuscule on the large seat of his throne: an old, one-eyed man, hunched over his hand-carved cane—the simple, unassuming form in which the god usually appeared. Guess he liked to look nondescript. Better than scaring the shizzles out of us in his true gigantic form.
Odin leaned against the marble arm, his head slightly tilted as he concentrated on the huge black raven on his shoulder. Hugin or Munin; I had no idea. Both identical birds represented thought and memory, bringing the knowledge of the world to Odin himself, as he watched over the realms from Asgard. What news had the bird brought today to cause that worried furrow in Odin's brow?
"What's going on?" I whispered to Sigrun, who wore an equally urgent scowl on her face.
"We have just returned with the most recent locations. And as Fen is still in Midgard, the All-Father will give us our individual Retrievals."
"What? Why didn't Fen come back?" It didn't make sense at all.
"I do not know. Perhaps the All-Father will explain." Sigrun gave my arm a reassuring squeeze before she turned to the dais and waited patiently for Odin to speak.
I nodded to myself and joined the rest of the Valkyries and Warriors and Ulfr before the dais. Even after months in Asgard, I still never failed to scan this room with reverent awe. Everywhere the eye met wood, all carved in the intricate, snaking patterns of the old Norse tradition. High, carved ceilings crested above countless fat pillars, but the most remarkable sight decorated the far end of the hall: two enormous thrones topping the raised wooden dais, where Odin now waited.
"Sigrun, my dear, please hand these out." Odin gave her a stack of papers. She glanced down at them and looked startled and a little confused, and for a brief instant met my eye. Then she began to move around the room passing out papers to the gathered teams.
She stopped next to me and handed me the last paper.
"Bryn, on this mission Fenrir will be your partner," said Sigrun, her smooth forehead marred by a frown. I swallowed a groan, not looking forward to the prospect of spending time with Fen; he was my least favorite person in the world right now.
"Oh? Not Mika? And didn't you just say Fen is still in Midgard?"
Sigrun nodded. "It does seem strange, does it not?" After a short pause she shrugged, "We will find out soon enough."
"So where are we off to this time?" I steered the conversation away from the topic of Fen, not wanting to remind her of my anger with the love of her life. She always felt the need to be helpful, and I preferred she stay out of my fight. I intended to deal with Fen all by myself.
Still, it was strange that Fen had summoned me and not Joshua.
Sigrun's cheery smile returned. "Your location is on the paper, and Fenrir will meet you there."
I scanned the letters on the page. In black, bold type were four words: Orange County, Los Angeles.
Guess I was going to LA.
***
"If you are ready just close your eyes."
I rolled my eyes instead. "Come on, Sigrun, it's the Bifrost. I've done this before."
Been there, done that, put out the fire.
"This time is different. Because we do not have Fen's specific location, only Fen can direct your journey on the Bifrost."
"What? So you mean I just close my eyes and he pulls me through?" My voice raised just the tiniest bit at on the last word.
Sigrun nodded.
I shook my head vigorously. "Nuh uh. No way." Such a scenario put me at Fen's mercy, zipping through the Bifrost, totally blind to where I would end up.
"Stop being a big baby and close your eyes. But if you want Fenrir to chew your hair off then that is fine with me."
I snorted.
"What is wrong?" Sigrun's eyes darkened, annoyed at my amusement at her expense.
"It's bite my head off not chew my hair off," I said, grinning, yet also pleased that my friend was trying to learn my native slang. It meant I could help her get rid of her overly formal way of speaking. Then maybe I could kid around and tease her without being afraid I'd offend her. Besides, being more Midgard-savvy would help her now that she'd be travelling to my world more often.
"Are you ready?" she asked, trying very hard to look stern and hide the gleam in her own eyes. At least she had a sense of humor.
My nerves were a tangled web of worry vines as I prepared for my first time going to Midgard as a full-fledged Valkyrie scout. The muscles in my limbs rippled with tension, and my wings fluttered behind me, echoing my nerves.
Get a grip, Bryn. This was the job they had trained me for, and it meant more than my last trip, chasing across the country on a quest for Freya's amber necklace.
I forced myself to relax and shut my eyes, clearing my mind so Fen could call me to him.
The Bifrost turned my stomach a few times clockwise and then repeated the action in reverse. I knew I shouldn't hate these rides, really I shouldn't. How could a girl complain about a means of travel both scientifically impossible and amazingly enchanting?
My feet hit ground and I tensed, feeling the impact of gravity on my body, wings and armor. I sucked in a cool breath and steadied myself, aware of the darkness surrounding me, aware I had pretty much no idea where the hell I was.
I dropped to my knees, throwing my glamor close around me. Only then did I take a moment to study my surroundings. It never failed to amaze me where in the world the Bifrost opened. I squatted near a litter-clogged stream beneath a bridge that in the cloying darkness seemed heavy and threatening.
The soft gurgle of the water, the rumble of a distant car, and the rustle of leaves shivering in an invisible breeze were the only sounds. I waited, unsure what Fen expected me to do besides remain where I'd landed. I was a sitting duck, so he'd better get his ass to me quickly or he was in for it.
A hand touched my shoulder and ripped a scream from my throat; I twisted and fell flat on my butt.
"Would you like to scream a little louder? I do not think the residents of the state of Hawaii heard you well enough," said Fen, his voice ne
utral, clear of any emotion, and yet the little twinge to his lips made me suspect he found it amusing to see me fall on my butt.
"Perhaps you should shock me again. You didn't manage to kill me the first time," I snapped, glaring at Fen.
He moved closer, his craggy features hidden by shadows, the bright moon making curves deeper and darker. When he stuck his hand out, I just stared at it. I hated to show weakness by allowing him to help me rise. My anger boiled to the surface, but I tamped it down. No sense becoming a nasty person just because he'd hurt me with his stupid idea that throwing a person off a cliff is simply an awesome way to train them to fly.
If you think I'll fall for that again, you are so wrong, General. I have my eye on you.
After a few moments of staring up at him, I finally gave in and took his hand, allowing him to draw me up, aware he had sufficient strength within his body to carry me, wings and all. Fenrir, the wolf child of Loki: a family history he'd so love to forget. I felt a flash of sympathy somewhere inside me, mostly swallowed up by my anger, though.
After dusting off my coat, I stood, back straight, looking at the thin, oily stream, the dried leaves and dirt floating on its dark surface. This stream reminded me so much of the one back in Craven, the one beside which I'd found Aidan's body, dead for days from a bullet wound in the middle of his forehead.
Shaking off the sad memory, I asked, "I thought you paired yourself with Joshua for this mission?"
"He is a Warrior. You are a Valkyrie."
I raised an eyebrow. Tell me something I don't know?
Fen added, "I have discovered something a Valkyrie should see. And I will show you, if you are done falling down and screaming like a little girl." He turned on his heel and started walking up the hill.
I gritted my teeth, wanting to growl my frustration but unable to react. Fen was my superior after all. Instead I asked, "So where are we going?"
"Orange County. Webster's Cemetery."
Well, that sure was specific.
I bit my tongue. It made no difference to me where we went, just as long as we got this job done and went home to Asgard as soon as possible.