Curiosity piqued, I crouched over the apple core and poked it, pushing it beyond the perimeter of the grass circle. The grass remained, not drying and curling into brown straw or disappearing as magically as it had appeared. Although I doubted my idea’s effectiveness, I collected the apple core, picked out the seeds, pawed a hole at the center of the grass patch, and buried the seeds.
Nothing happened. I held my hand against the mound. Still nothing. I sighed, sank down on the ground, and waited for whatever would come next.
“The wolf, Hati, he’s dead?” Grim asked. “You killed him?”
I nodded. Talking depleted my energy, and I needed every drop to stave off the cold. Grim had woken me to feed me another cup of syrupy energy goop and had started his inquisition, testing my knowledge of Helen and Thorin. That cave, all darkness and numbing cold, sucked away all concept of time and place. Had I been there for hours, or days? It felt like years.
“B-burned him to ash,” I said through chattering teeth.
“And what of Skoll?”
“B-burned, too.” I summarized our fight with Skoll in the desert but avoided mentioning Thorin’s use of the hammer.
“But he survived.”
I nodded.
“You haven’t seen either of them, Helen or Skoll, since?”
I shook my head. “Came straight to the Aerie.”
“Looking for the sword?”
Nod.
“Where is my brother?”
Shrug.
“Why did he leave you unprotected?”
“V-Val—” I started.
Grim barked a sharp laugh. “He’s sunk so far into humanity he’s forgotten himself. He’s no threat to me, and he’s a poor guardian for a daughter of Sol.”
“Solina.”
“What?”
“My n-name is Solina.”
Grim laughed again. “Soon, your name will be forgotten. It doesn’t matter to me. When did you last see my brother?”
Shrug. “Went to help Baldur find Nina.”
Grim snorted. “Baldur the Allfather, lovesick halfwit. But you don’t know where they went?”
Head shake.
“I’ve sent Helen word about my capture of you. As soon as I’m sure she’s taken the bait, I will end this suffering. It shouldn’t last much longer.”
I didn’t have the energy to cry. I shrugged and closed my eyes.
The apple seeds had sprouted. Two little green shoots reached toward the sky. I brushed my fingers over the tender green stalks, hoping to encourage their growth. My touch had no influence, though—not as it had on the mother tree—but that didn’t matter. Those two little signs of life in this long-dead place eased my heartache and emptiness. I ate as many apples from the mother tree as I could stuff in my stomach, and I buried seeds all about the burned-out building.
For what felt like hours, I planted, moving out from the house in concentric circles. I couldn’t rebuild the city, but I could build an orchard. By the time I had planted the seeds from all the apples I could eat, I had created a perimeter around the house, two rows deep. The sun was setting as I buried the last seed. My stomach groaned from overeating, and dried juice coated my fingers and wrists in a sticky film.
I returned to the yard outside my burnt house and eased down against the base of the mother tree. The grass beneath it had grown into a thick green carpet. In fact, anywhere I had planted a seed already showed signs of life. Little green patches dotted the yard, and only a few burned, dry places remained. Soon those would be gone, too.
I leaned back against the tree and stretched. I turned my face up to the sky and greeted the rising moon. “Hello, Mani. Long time, no see.”
The floor shuddered, and the cavern groaned and squealed. Ice splinters broke free and rained over me. The cave had come to life. During my last round of oblivion—I wouldn’t quite call it sleep—my fire had gone out. Normally, my heat melted the ice enough to keep me lying in a shallow, lukewarm puddle, but it had since frozen hard.
I sought my internal power source and found a small, burning ember. Not enough for a full flame, but much more than I’d expected, enough to combat the cold. But how…?
The apples.
The apples were the figment of a dream. Imagination. Hopeful thinking.
Is that all they are?
I didn’t know how they could be anything else. But the proof lay in the fire. Not the pitiful trickle borne of Grimm’s strange energy drink—the force inside me was stronger than that, but it wasn’t enough.
Not yet. But soon.
I sat in the grass at the base of my tree and stared at the big silver moon filling the sky. So close and huge, it pressed against the roof of the world as if reaching down for my touch. A breeze ruffled my hair. I lifted my face toward it, inhaling the scent of apples. Some of the fruit had fallen and sat bruised on the ground around me, skins split and heading fast toward rot, and the air smelled of cider. Time, in that place, moved in funny ways.
“Mani, what did we get ourselves into?”
The moon did not respond.
“You suspected you were something more than a simple man, didn’t you? And you were always so much more than just a brother to me. I guess that’s the curse of twins. When you died, I should have suspected something was up. Losing you shouldn’t have hurt that badly. It wasn’t normal. Even Mom and Dad could move on. They made you, gave birth to you, and they could let you go. Why not me? Why couldn’t I let go, Mani?”
In the solitude of that place, the slightest rustle equaled the explosion of thunder. The tree leaves brushing together and the percussion of approaching footsteps created an orchestra of noise. I sucked in a breath and held it. Had the wolf found me, even in this place? But the intruder wasn’t Skoll or Helen or Grim.
It wasn’t Mani either.
“When it comes to letting go, you haven’t been given much choice, unfortunately.” Aleksander Thorin stepped out from the orchard’s shadows, and the moonlight crowned his pale hair and molded him in quicksilver. “It was you who decided to track down the truth of your brother’s murder, but even if you hadn’t, this ordeal would have been foisted on you eventually.
“Also, you have yet to show you are the sort to run away from a challenge. That is not fate’s fault so much as an admirable and yet equally annoying facet of your character.”
I snorted. “Maybe Skoll could have done me the favor of killing me in my blissful ignorance rather than letting me die well informed but in much greater pain.”
“Die? You’re giving up already?”
“And let you off the hook? No, I don’t think so.”
Thorin grinned. “That’s good to know, because I was wondering whether I should waste my time coming to rescue you or not.”
I grimaced, rolled to my feet, and stood. “Maybe if you had come with me in the first place, I wouldn’t need rescuing. What are you doing here? I thought this was some happy place I made up in my head, but if that were true, then there’s no way I would have dreamed about you.”
Thorin’s eyes sparkled, and his grin widened. “Your subconscious disagrees with your ego. I think you want me rather badly.”
“I want to not die rather badly. If you can help me with that, then yes, I could see how it would appear I might desire your company.”
Stepping closer, Thorin peered into my face. His expression revealed genuine concern. “How are you doing, Sunshine? No bravado. Be honest with me.”
I shrugged. “I think I should be doing a lot worse than I am, actually.”
Thorin’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that it was Grim’s intention to keep me on the edge of death. But this place and these apples…” I motioned to the mother tree overhead. “I think if I had enough time,
they might bring my fire back. But then what?”
“Knowing Grim, I suspect you don’t have much time. He intends to see you dead, Sunshine.”
“I intend to see him fail. I’m just not sure how, yet.”
Thorin stepped closer and took my hand in his. He brushed his thumb over my knuckles before bringing my fingers to his lips. “You won’t have to fight him alone. I’m coming for you.”
“How will you find me?”
Thorin reached out and fingered the gold chain around my neck. “I told you I could track you.”
“Well, bring some warm clothes when you come. I think my toes are getting frostbite.”
Thorin’s grin fell away. He grimaced and asked, “Anything else I should bring?”
“Holy retribution for your brother. That should do it.”
“Happy to oblige.” Thorin dropped my hand. He turned and started toward the trees.
I called to him before he faded into the shadows. “Is any of this real? Or did I just make up this place in my imagination?”
“You don’t know?” Thorin, nothing more than a flickering shadow, looked back at me. Disbelief wrinkled his brow, and he quirked his lips into a peculiar smile. “How did you come to the house of Idun if you did not come on purpose?”
“Idun? What is that supposed to mean?” I yelled to his fading figure. I knew of Idun’s apples of immortality from my research, and I had seen an old and mature orchard in my visions. I was not in that place, though. “Where am I really?”
Before he disappeared, Thorin uttered a final word.
Maybe I didn’t believe him, but I was certain he said, “Asgard.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“Sunshine, wake up.” Hands gripped my shoulders and shook me until my teeth clacked. “Wake the hell up, Solina. Please.”
I peeled my eyelids apart, possibly ripping out a few eyelashes that had frozen together. Warm light from a lantern pushed back the darkness and revealed Thorin’s face hovering over mine. Gabriel, Raphael, Michael… none of the archangels surpassed his beauty at that moment. I tried to smile, but my chapped lips protested.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Thorin pressed his lips to my forehead. He had put nothing romantic into his greeting, just relief—not that I was in a state to appreciate his affections, anyway. “So glad you decided to join the land of the living.”
Thorin helped me slip into insulated pants and a long-sleeved fleece shirt. He bundled me into wool socks and snow boots and tugged me to my feet. He wrapped me in his own parka, which retained his body heat and smelled of rain and storms. I would have wept at the relief of it, the sublime pleasure, but I was too dried out.
For the first time, I got a good look at my prison. Blue-white walls, dim in the lantern light, stretched several feet over my head, curving into an arched ceiling. If I fully extended both arms, my middle fingers might have brushed the walls on either side of me, but the length of the cave extended into a long, dark throat the lantern light failed to reach. The cave groaned and popped, and ice flakes sparkled in the air, whispering threats of my doom. I shivered.
“Let’s get you out of here.” Thorin wrapped an arm around my shoulder, supporting me.
“What about Grim?”
“Let me worry about him, okay?”
“The sword?”
“Solina”—Thorin tightened his hold on me—“all you need to worry about is keeping yourself together and in the present until we get out of here.”
One more concern, and then I would let Thorin take over for me. “Helen?”
Thorin chuckled. “Frozen to death, and you’re still stubborn as hell. Grim didn’t set this up for Helen.”
“That’s right. I set it for you, dear brother.” Grim appeared in the gloom, illuminated by the flame of the sword held casually at his side.
I gasped and reached for my own fire—a measly supply but not completely bankrupt. I held the heat beneath my skin, not giving away my status to Grim, but prepared to defend myself if necessary.
“As if I would risk letting Helen and her filthy mutt get anywhere near the daughter of Sol.”
“Why?” I croaked, meaning, Why this complicated kidnapping? Why Thorin? Why not Helen?
Grim understood my question. “Once I’m finished with you, who gives a damn about Helen’s plans? The only reason you’re still alive is because I needed you to wear that necklace.”
“He wants Mjölnir,” Thorin said.
“He knows?” I asked.
“I’m guessing it was the storm in the desert that gave it away.”
Grim nodded. “That storm lit up my senses. I hadn’t felt that energy in centuries, but there was no mistaking what caused it. You had to know I would sense it.”
“How did you know I had it?” I asked. The words stung my raw throat.
“I didn’t,” Grim said. “I intended to kill you, but I saw you had Mjölnir’s lanyard. It’s the thing that kept you alive. I would have finished you the night you came for the sword, otherwise.”
“You could have just killed me and taken it. Tracked the hammer yourself.”
“No,” Thorin said. “The moment he took possession of it, I would have known it was him who had it. I would never have come to him.”
“Blood calls to blood.” Grim’s rancor showed how much he loathed their familial ties. “It worked more in my favor if lover called to lover.”
“I’m here now,” Thorin said. “Mjölnir is with me. Leave Solina out of it.”
Grim’s eyebrows arched high. “And let Helen have her? Oh, no, nothing has changed. The girl still has to die. It’s the only way to ensure Helen fails.”
An explosion of sound burst through the cavern. Grim blipped out of sight and appeared a few feet away from Thorin and me, but his attention was not on us. He focused on Skyla, who stood beside us, legs braced wide, frame held rigid, gun poised to take another shot.
Oh, thank God! Should have known it would take more than a bump on the head to keep her down.
Grim laughed at her. “Faster than a speeding bullet. Superman got all of his tricks from me.”
“You sure do like the sound of your own voice.” Skyla pulled the trigger a second time.
Grim moved so fast I couldn’t keep up with him. He finally came to a halt, however, when he materialized with a massive hand gripping around his neck, a hand that belonged to Baldur.
“Allfather,” Grim gasped. “What are you—” His question ended in a wheeze.
“Baldur,” Thorin said. “Get Solina out of here. Grim is my problem.” Thorin’s black eyes sparked. “I promised to keep Solina from harm, and you’ve made me break that vow, brother.”
“It was nothing personal.” Grim tried to chuckle, but Baldur squeezed, and Grim choked on his laugh, literally.
“Baldur, take Solina away from here. Please.” Thorin’s voice sounded as if it had issued from a grizzly bear, and rage oozed from his pores until all humanity left him. “We both know it will take something as strong as Mjölnir to bring him down.”
Baldur met Thorin’s eyes, held his gaze for a moment, and nodded. He dropped Grim, flickered to Thorin’s side, and took hold of me. My ears popped, and blackness whirled before my eyes. We stopped outside the cavern. Low-hanging clouds and a stiff breeze stirred snow into icy whirlwinds.
“I’m going to get Skyla,” Baldur said. “Once she’s safely out, I’ll take you away from the mountain.”
“Mountain?”
“Mount Rainier. Grim has kept you in a glacial cave for almost two days. It’s a miracle you’ve survived.” Baldur popped out of sight. I counted several heartbeats, expecting his immediate return, but the minutes of his absence ticked by without his reappearance. My impatience urged me to do something, to take action… to fight. I needed Baldu
r. Thorin, too. Without the gods to help me off this mountain, I had nowhere to go. I stepped toward the cave but lost my balance when the ground shuddered. The ice shook and heaved as if the glacier meant to break apart.
Skyla’s voice rose above the din, panting and cursing like a sailor. “We’re on the same side, you crazy bitch!”
“It’s too late for that,” said Skyla’s opponent, Tori.
Where did she come from?
Tori heaved a breath and said, “Grim wants Solina dead.”
“You’re his slave? Can’t think for yourself?”
The two women tumbled out of the cavern into the open ice field a few yards away from me. Neither noticed my presence as they were too wrapped up in their fight.
“It’s for the greater good!” Tori screamed. Their feet scuffled over the ice, and they panted like dogs. They darted toward each other, pivoting in circles, occasionally falling to wrestle each other in the snow.
“Screw the greater good!” Skyla gasped for a breath. “The greater good never did me one single favor.”
“You… You want to throw it all away for her?” Condensation puffed from Tori’s mouth and nose like a steaming locomotive. “You risk the world for one woman?”
“For a brother and sister who were more family to me than my own blood.” Skyla backed away and huffed out her own steady stream of frozen breath. “Mani was ripped from me too soon. I’ll be damned if anyone takes his sister, too.”
The two fell against each other again. Skyla struck out with the heel of her hand, and Tori spouted a brutal shriek as something crunched—a joint or possibly a bone.
“The world will be destroyed.” Tori panted, obviously speaking through a great amount of pain. “You’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
Baldur blipped to my side, clutching his ribs. Blood seeped between his fingers, and his breath came in rough spurts. “Tori’s appearance was unexpected. She got the jump on us.”
Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2) Page 25