Tides of Spring: A Dark Shapeshifter Urban Fantasy (Echoes of the Past Book 3)

by H B Lyne

  'I don't know. I don't even know where I am.'

  'This is Asgard.'

  Stalker swayed slightly and blinked at him in surprise.

  'Really?' She couldn't hide the shock from her trembling voice.

  'How did you get here? What were you doing before being transported?'

  'I was examining a strange door in the veil, in the human world. I got dragged through it. I'm a Berserker, one of Odin's Warriors.' She raised a hand to the back of her neck and lifted her hair out of the way, so that he could see her tattoo.

  'I see. That explains why the door opened for you. Your people have created such doors to allow passage between our worlds. But we have not actually had a visitor in some time. I believe you would say decades. I am Heimdall. I guard the bridge between our worlds.' He held his hand out to her and she grasped it just below the elbow, the way she would greet one of her fellow Berserkers. He returned the gesture and his entire demeanour softened.

  'So why am I here?' Stalker asked, growing uncomfortable under his clear blue-eyed gaze.

  'A very good question,' Heimdall replied. He cocked his head and gazed at her.

  A soft rumble in the distance caught Stalker's attention. She looked towards the bridge and saw a dark shape thundering across it towards them. Every muscle in her body tensed, though a voice in her head tried to reassure her that she was safe here. The snow-capped mountains in the distance were hazy in the bright sunlight, and the vast lake shone, effervescent and calming.

  Heimdall turned his head slightly to see who was approaching and nodded sagely. The approaching figure became more clear. Stalker saw that it was someone on horseback, with long flowing hair and cloak billowing out behind them. The thundering grew louder and more distinct, as the horse's hooves pounded on the crystal bridge.

  As the rider galloped into the courtyard, Stalker saw that the grey horse was mounted by a beautiful young woman with hair the colour of the sun. She was dressed in fine armour that was trimmed with dark fur with feathers protruding from it, and wore a helm of shining steel. She dismounted her horse, who was enormous and almost silver, and also wore armour. She removed her helm and shook out her long hair, which rippled like water. Stalker's breath caught in her throat.

  'Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow?' The woman asked, wedging the helm under her arm.

  'Yes,' Stalker croaked.

  'I am Gudra. You're early.'

  'Gudra is a Valkyrie, Stalker,' Heimdall explained, with a kind smile.

  'Oh!' Stalker looked at the tall, muscular warrior before her with new appreciation. She bowed her head slightly, unsure how she was supposed to greet such a legendary being. Gudra reached out and took Stalker's arm in the manner of her fellow Berserkers.

  'You have many great battles to come before we will invite you into Valhalla, Stalker. Why are you here?'

  'I don't know.'

  'I brought her.' A light, shimmering voice rang out across the courtyard. The three of them turned to face the source. A glowing figure rose out of the water, shimmering blue and silver. It floated over the white wall of the courtyard and landed silently in front of them. The shimmering light that emanated from the creature faded a little and Stalker could just about make out a humanoid shape inside the watery aura.

  'Fylgia?' Gudra said, mild surprise in her voice. 'What is the meaning of this?'

  'Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow is my charge. She has been lost for some time, so I brought her home.'

  'You're not supposed to show yourself to your charges,' Heimdall said, an edge of anger to his deep voice. He stepped in front of Stalker protectively. Stalker peered around him. 'Not until the moment of death.'

  Stalker looked up at him in alarm. Was she dying? But Gudra had said she had many battles yet to face. She didn't know who had the final say. Odin, she supposed. Would he have to come out here to settle this? Was she going to meet the Allfather himself? Panic began to rise in her chest and she found it hard to breathe or think straight.

  'I sent an envoy from the past to speak to her, but he didn't seem to help her.' Fylgia's form was becoming more firm, and Stalker watched in awe as the aura faded to reveal a beautiful woman. She had long dark hair that seemed to float around her, as if she were under water. Her blue eyes looked just like Stalker's and Stalker felt as though she were looking at a long lost sister.

  'You sent Hands-and-Face?' Stalker asked, still peering out from behind Heimdall.

  'I did. I have always belonged to your family, he was my charge once.'

  'I'm sorry,' Stalker said. 'I don't understand what that means.'

  'Fylgia are family guardians,' Heimdall said. Still resolutely separating Stalker from the watery spirit. 'Inviting their charge home is what you would call death.'

  'Oh,' Stalker said with a frown. They were getting nowhere.

  'I don't mean for Stalker to enter Valhalla,' Fylgia said, her voice tinkling like rain drops on glass. 'I mean for her to find herself.'

  'Can any of you tell me what I am?' Stalker asked. She stepped out from behind Heimdall and looked into each of their faces. 'I'm not like other shifters.'

  'No, you're special,' Fylgia replied with a smile. 'Only Artemis can truly answer your question. She rarely leaves her realm and none can enter it. Your special connection with Odin allows you to come here. This was the best I could do to get you closer to the answers you seek.'

  'I see. You mean Olympus, right? That's her realm?'

  Heimdall raised a hand and pointed to the mountain that stood on the opposite side of the vast lake to the magnificent kingdom of Asgard. It was the tallest mountain, the highest peak was invisible, lost in the hazy sky. 'Oh,' Stalker said, swallowing hard. 'Could I not fly there?'

  Gudra laughed and Fylgia looked affronted.

  'No one goes to Olympus. It is forbidden.'

  'But in Greek myths people did go there sometimes. Didn't they?'

  'And usually suffered the consequences,' Heimdall replied. He smiled at her like he was observing a cute puppy. Stalker drew herself up to her full height.

  'Fine. How do you expect me to find answers if Artemis is the only one who can provide them?'

  'You are as much of Asgard as of Artemis,' Fylgia replied. 'This is where you will one day come, when you come home for good. You draw much of your power from this place. Your heart beats for Odin. I know, because I am in your heart too, I am always with you.'

  Stalker felt something stirring at her words, and a tear prickled at the corner of her eye.

  'You're always with me?'

  'I am.' Fylgia nodded.

  'Then you know what I've been through. You know the loss I've felt, the betrayal, the rage.' Stalker's cheeks trembled and her voice cracked.

  'And the love,' Fylgia said softly, taking a step towards her. 'I know the love you have felt for others and that they have felt for you.'

  'Don't ever forget about that,' Gudra urged, placing a hand on Stalker's shoulder. 'You are a powerful warrior, with so much yet to accomplish. I am honoured to be connected to you and look forward to the day we share a toast in the Great Hall. But you have much to live for yet, and I don't just mean the battlefield. You are a woman too.'

  Stalker had never been one for planning for the future. She lived in the moment and had never considered the possibility of growing old. Since she had found out what she truly was she had assumed she would live a short and brutal life, and she was mostly fine with that. She wasn't ready to die yet, though, she had the Witches to finish off.

  'And Rhys,' Fylgia said, smiling knowingly. 'Don't forget the love.'

  'You can read my thoughts?' Stalker asked.

  'I am within you, always. I experience your thoughts with you.'

  'Will I ever find out why Artemis made me different?' She looked around at each of them, but was met with the steely resolve of people who could not answer.

  'I expect she will find a way to communicate with you when the time is right,' Fylgia replied.

  'When I was newly ch
anged, someone told me not to let go of my humanity, that I would need it. But it has brought me so much trouble. I've seen what it can cost, to cling to that life. I don't know what to do.'

  'Shadow's Step's words were wise, and you do well to heed them,' Fylgia replied. 'You could so easily disappear into the black if you allow yourself to forget everything that you were. But you are not human, you are something else. I think they key is to remember and learn from your humanity, but not try to pretend that you never changed. Does that make sense?'

  'Yes, actually it does.' Stalker took a deep breath and turned her face to the bright sky, her eyes closed. There was a caw overhead and Stalker chanced a glance through squinted eyelids. A raven circled them a few times, then swept away towards Asgard.

  'It is time for you to return to Midgard,' Heimdall said, his eyes on the raven as it disappeared into the distance.

  'Wait!' Stalker turned to Gudra. 'I need to learn so much. How do I make the most of my abilities in the forthcoming battle? Can you help me?'

  'You are so skilled, I don't believe there is anything I could teach you. Use your eyes and your wits, know your enemy, be bold but wise. You will prevail if you can remember that.' Gudra placed both hands on Stalker's shoulders and looked into her eyes. 'Above all, be honourable. That is what Odin prizes. Show mercy where possible and fight with a clear head.'

  As Gudra lifted her hands from Stalker's shoulders, she felt her swords on her back grow heavier. She peered over her shoulder to look at the hilt of one of them. A rune flared up on the pommel, shining orange for a moment, before fading away. Snake.

  'What was that?' she asked, staring at Gudra.

  'A gift from the Allfather, something to help you in battle.'

  'You must go. When you return, go quickly to your pack,' Heimdall urged, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the edge of the little island.

  'Is something wrong?'

  'You may be in danger of discovery by the Witches. Go quickly, conceal yourself. I wish you good fortune, Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow. I hope that it is many years until we meet again.' He smiled and she returned the gesture.

  'Until the next time,' Gudra said, bowing her head.

  'Will it be you that comes for me?' Stalker asked, unable to stop the question that burned inside.

  'Almost certainly,' Gudra said softly.

  Fylgia smiled and shimmered out of sight. Stalker looked out across the water. The surface shimmered with many colours. She felt dizzy for a moment, and then as if a large hook had grabbed her around the middle, she was yanked forwards. She left Asgard behind as she tumbled through the dark tunnel with a rainbow of light flashing past below her.

  She closed her eyes to stop her head from spinning. Suddenly she was still, though she didn't recall stopping. She was sitting and leaning against something. When she opened her eyes she was in the street where she had left, sitting against the green door. She felt tired and her eyes were crusted with sleep. She stood up hurriedly and looked around the deserted street. Could she have dreamt it all? The door looked perfectly ordinary, the sensation of there being a gap in the veil had gone.

  Looking cautiously around one last time, Stalker caught the scent of a Witch. Her human form had the weakest senses, so if she could smell her enemy now she must be close. Stalker shifted into her fox form and sprinted as fast as she could for the nearby Glass Wolves' territory. She leapt over fences and darted through gardens, making a direct line for safety.

  When she reached it she skidded to a halt and looked back. There was no sign of anyone following, and she allowed herself a moment to catch her breath. Theodore would probably not take kindly to her lingering, so she set off at a jog back to St. Mark's. Her mind raced over the events of the evening, unable to decide how real they had been.

  When she was back in the safety of the house and back in human form, Stalker unstrapped her dha and examined the hilts. Very finely engraved on both pommels was the rune for “snake”. It was no dream. Her face lit up with a grin as she swiftly unsheathed one of the Burmese swords. Try it, a voice inside urged, and she knew that it was Fylgia.

  Her pack mates were sleeping, the house was dark and still. She felt the blade humming in her grasp. She closed her eyes and focused her breathing. There was energy emanating from the sword. Something alive was now inside it. Flames-First-Guardian had once suggested doing something to her swords to make them more powerful. Was this what he had meant? She opened her eyes and looked up and down the sleek blade. Faint light from the kitchen window glinted on the steel in the dark room. Stalker swished the blade across her body and felt the hum run up her arm. The serpent inside seemed to respond to the movement, the vibration increased in frequency. She shivered, unnerved by the sensation.

  There was no real way to tell what her dha could now do without getting into an actual fight. But she sheathed it with a grin, longing to test them both properly, preferably on the neck of a Witch. Her story would have to wait until the morning, however. Exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she went to curl up next to Weaver. She dreamed of Asgard, and Fylgia, and Hands-and-Face proudly clapping his hands as she slaughtered her enemies.

  The following morning the pack was just stirring when a loud rap at the door dragged them from their nest-like living room. Stalker was the first to the door, rubbing her eyes wearily as she opened it. Last-Breath-Echoes stood on the pavement outside, her eyes even wider than usual, with the distinct look of someone who had not slept.

  'Come in,' Stalker said, perking up instantly. She stood aside and Echoes strode in, giving the wooden door frame a flick with her thumb nail as she crossed the threshold. Stalker closed the door and followed her to the living room, where the others were straightening the place up and making space for their guest. Claws was out patrolling, but the rest of them gathered around as Echoes paced the floor, refusing the offered seat. She wrung her hands and chewed her lip. Stalker had never seen her so anxious.

  'What is it?' Eyes asked. Echoes stopped pacing and glared at him.

  'The body that I tracked, it's not at the crematorium anymore, and it hasn't been cremated.'

  'As we suspected,' Eyes said with a heavy sigh.

  'The body was moved yesterday to the crematorium in Fenwick. Last night it was moved again, to a disused factory. I was able to create a strong enough connection with the deceased that I could catch glimpses of the surroundings. I saw the dead twins, walking about. I also saw a significant number of corpses. They were laid in rows, no longer in body bags, and had been dressed in leather armour. I think, I don't want to, but I think they are planning to raise an army of undead.'

  'Oh,' Eyes said, his face paralysed.

  'Great Artemis,' Weaver whispered.

  'It certainly sounds plausible,' Wind Talker said, stroking his chin. Stalker looked from face to face, trying to wrap her head around the idea.

  'But they haven't done it yet?' she asked, looking to Echoes for confirmation.

  'No.'

  'What about the dead twins? They've been reanimated already. They obviously have the power to do it. What are they waiting for?' Stalker looked around, searching for an answer.

  'Remember what Crimson Thorns told us?' Weaver said softly. 'About the Green Man coming to full power on the equinox? I'd bet my visions from Artemis that they're waiting for that. He is the one with the power to resurrect the dead. While he's weak he can't handle more than one or two reanimations, but once they restore him to full health he'll be able to raise an army.'

  'Yes,' Wind Talker said, standing abruptly. 'That makes sense. They couldn't wait for him to bring back the girls. Assuming that the bodies need to be reasonably fresh. And they would want their pack members back as soon as possible. So he used what power he does have in winter to restore them.'

  'We have to stop them!' Stalker said, panic rising in her chest.

  'Yes we do,' Eyes said, his voice low and dangerous. 'We can't just destroy the Witches, we have to stop the Green Man too. We have to take
him down before he comes to full strength.'

  'They'll be at their most vulnerable during the ritual,' Wind Talker said. 'They'll be distracted. Until then they may be expecting an attack, but they'll need as many of them present for the ritual as possible, meaning fewer patrolling. Spinner-of-Crystal will most likely be in a trance, so she'll be weaker too. I think we have to do it then, we have to time it just right, so that we disrupt the ritual and prevent the Green Man being restored.'

  'I want to come,' Last-Breath-Echoes said firmly, her face full of determination. 'I want to be part of this fight. I have to see what they are doing to the dead and be there to ensure it doesn't happen. Someone has to advocate for the dead in this. I'll do it.'

  'What about your pack?' Eyes asked, a glint in his eye.

  'I'll speak to them. They've defended the city from Furies before, they may want to get involved.' She gave Stalker a determined nod, then spun and marched back towards the front door. Eyes followed her out and Stalker was left looking at her pack mates in shocked silence. When Eyes returned he leaned heavily in the living room doorway and crossed his arms over his chest.

  'It'll be really great if The Hand of God join the fight,' Stalker said, breaking the silence.

  'Yes, it would be very helpful,' Eyes replied, though a frown marred his brow.

  'Don't you think they will?'

  'You know Crimson better than I do,' he replied. 'What do you think?'

  'I think there are a few people in her pack, herself included, who thirst for the fight, and who support Red Scythe in his wish to see the packs of Caerton unite. But she is cautious. I don't know.' Stalker shook her head. Suddenly the thought of standing shoulder to shoulder with First Strike made her very uncomfortable. She hadn't seen or heard from him since breaking things off with him. She wondered if he was okay, and how he would react to her next time they saw each other.

  'Well, we'll soon find out.' Eyes turned and headed for the kitchen. Stalker heard the unmistakable sounds of the coffee maker being turned on and a frying pan being slapped onto the hob. Her stomach suddenly gave an almighty rumble.

  The front door opened and Claws stomped in.