“What happened to you?”
“Tori had a blade, something infused with mistletoe is my guess.”
“Will you be okay?”
“I’ll manage.”
“What about Skyla’s gun?”
“Dropped in the tussle, I presume.” Baldur bent to scoop me up. He moved as if preparing to leave.
“No,” I said. “We can’t leave Skyla.”
Baldur frowned but turned us to face the fight.
“You could have helped us, Tori,” Skyla said in a raw and ragged voice.
Back on their feet again, the Valkyries were locked in a desperate embrace.
“You could have stopped Helen,” Skyla said. “You could have told me the truth about myself and let me help you lead the Valkyries on the path they were intended to take.”
“It’s no good. The Valkyries are lost. Forget them.”
“You’re a spineless bitch, Tori. The Valkyries are better off without you.”
Tori spat out a shriek that sheared through the crisp air and raised the hairs on the back of my neck. She pivoted, jerked Skyla off balance and jabbed a knee into her side. Skyla wheezed and fell to the ground as Tori turned and came for me.
My flames erupted in a cloak and cowl of blazing glory. Another set of clothing burned and gone, but Skyla was worth the risk of frostbite. I widened my stance and lowered my center of gravity. Tori could kick my butt in a fistfight, but let her see how she did against my fire.
“Solina,” Skyla called my name, warning me. She struggled to her feet.
Baldur moved, lightning fast, and knocked Tori aside. Before she regained her balance, I pounced.
Tori screamed. She shifted her weight, rolled, and threw me off. I scuttled back and regained my feet.
“Solina.” She breathed heavily, gritting her teeth. Her winter clothes had protected her, mostly, but a red welt rose on her cheek. Her gloves and winter coat hung in tatters. “It has to go this way. We can’t risk the wolf killing you.”
I bared my teeth at her and growled. “If you had my back, if you fought on my side, Skoll would never stand a chance. But instead, you chose to sacrifice me because why? Because it’s easier? Because Grim told you to?”
While I talked and held Tori’s attention, Baldur teleported himself behind her. Ice cracked under his feet, giving his position away. Tori spun, faced Baldur, and raised her knife, presumably the one laced with mistletoe. Baldur had already tasted that poison—no need for a second helping. I leapt forward, aiming to tackle Tori, but she danced aside, and I skidded on the ice, missing her by a breath. My flames sputtered. I had used most of the energy the apples had given me, and I had nearly reached the bottom of my fuel tank.
Skyla stumbled to her feet and clutched her side. She lunged, throwing a fist into Tori’s jaw. Tori wheeled back, and Skyla kicked her feet out from beneath her. Tori fell to her back and cried out. Skyla straddled Tori, sitting on her, and wrapped her hands around Tori’s neck.
“Solina,” Baldur said. “Kill your fire.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it!” he ordered.
The command in his voice required compliance, and I couldn’t resist, especially in my weakened state. My flames guttered and died. Baldur threw his arms around me, and in the moment before he carried us away, someone screamed. The cry ended in a horrible gargle.
“No,” I said as my ears popped. “We can’t leave them.”
“My job is to protect you, Solina. I can’t take any more chances. We must go.”
Baldur dumped me in a room heated to sauna proportions and ordered me to sleep. I didn’t know where he had brought me, but I asked no questions and offered no protests. My mind sank into a white haze, and I embraced the reprieve it granted. The sandman carried me into unconsciousness, and all the gods together couldn’t have stopped him.
I woke later, shivers wracking my body with horrible spasms. My muscles cramped in such terrific pain I thought they might tear away from the bone. I might have screamed. Someone came and held me, feeding me warm medicinal drinks that burned my throat but eased the cramping. The trembling subsided, and I sank back into a blessed oblivion.
Chapter Twenty-six
For the first time in what felt like ages, I woke up warm and cozy, but thirst had turned my throat and eyes into sandpaper. Skyla appeared at my bedside, waiting with a mug of hot chicken broth and a glass of water.
“Sip this slow.” She passed me the mug.
I sucked down the broth and gave it back to her for a refill.
She chuckled and shook her head. “I said slow.”
“Try telling that to my stomach,” I said.
Skyla obliged my request for seconds and returned a few moments later with another cup of soup.
“Where are we?” I asked after scanning my surroundings—log walls, chintz curtains, hand-stitched quilts.
“A rental cabin near Rainier. We set this up as sort of a base camp, but we didn’t intend to stay here this long. Baldur was too weak to make the jump all the way back to New Breidablik with passengers.”
I took her hand and squeezed it. “Baldur made me leave you. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to.”
“We’re all together now. He came back for me.”
“Are you okay? The fighting was so horrible.”
“I’ve got a bruised rib, some sore knuckles, but otherwise, I’m fine.”
“What happened? Is Tori…?” My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t finish the question.
Lines of strain appeared around Skyla’s mouth and eyes. “Tori wasn’t going to stop. She was intent on killing you and on getting me out of her way so I couldn’t interfere. She was a fanatic—dedicated to her beliefs.”
“You were a soldier. And a Valkyrie.” Sensing Skyla’s discomfort, I changed the subject to something less disturbing.
“Tell me everything.” I fell back against the pillows. Getting out of bed felt like a Sisyphean task. “Where is Thorin?”
Skyla sighed and slumped beside me. “You’ve been out of commission for a day. We woke you to force you to drink a few times. You stumbled to the bathroom once.”
“Ah. I thought it was just part of some weird dream.”
Skyla chuckled. “You did talk about apples a lot.”
My apple orchard had grown exponentially. I’d spent a lot of time in that dreamy place while my body recovered from hypothermia and dehydration. Not once in that place did a wolf try to eat me or a maniacal god try to kill me. My subconscious was being decent enough to let me dream of good things for a change.
Skyla’s gaze dropped, and her chin dipped. “Don’t know about Thorin, though. He hasn’t shown up yet.”
I sat back up, and my mouth fell open. “Hasn’t Baldur been back to look for him?”
“No, he’s wounded as well. Plus, he’s been nursing the two of us, and he has Nina to worry about. They found her in a pretty bad situation. She’s kind of a mess.”
I sat up straighter, energized by curiosity. “Nina? So he did find her. How?”
“Long story.”
“Like we have anything else to do.”
“Maybe you should come into the living room. Baldur probably would want to tell his part. It’s not like I was there for it.”
“What about Val? Has he not made contact either?”
Skyla patted my shoulder and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Solina. The last I saw, Grim had broken him almost literally in half and thrown him in the lake. I don’t know if they’re able to recover from those kinds of things.”
My heart swelled into my throat. I turned away and covered my eyes. A big, cold fist squeezed my heart, and the air in my lungs turned to ice.
Skyla rubbed my back while I struggled against tears and fought
back the urge to scream and maybe throw something, tear apart a pillow or punch a wall—impotent gestures that might momentarily ease my internal pain but would otherwise solve nothing. I needed a plan, an action, something more productive. But what?
“Maybe Val survived it,” Skyla said, “but we saw no signs of him after Grim disappeared with you and Tori. Just as it is with Thorin, it’s a case of wait and see. It sucks, but that’s the way it is.”
Skyla scooted off the bed and stretched. She hadn’t cut her hair in a while, so the halo of curls around her face had grown into something wilder and unruly. A huge T-shirt and sweats—probably something belonging to Baldur—swallowed her compact frame. I wore similar attire.
She noticed me giving her the once-over and made a sour face. “This living like a vagabond is getting old.”
“Tell me about it.” I scooted to the edge of the bed, wondering when I had traded my body for that of a ninety-year-old suffering arthritis in every joint. Skyla heaved me up onto my feet, groaning at her own injuries as she did. We supported each other as we wibble-wobbled into the living room.
An unfamiliar woman looked up from her book as we entered. She wore her hair in a wild mane of tight black ringlets that trailed over her broad shoulders. She sat in an overstuffed chair across from a crackling fireplace and stared at me with big brown eyes. I sank into another overstuffed chair, and Skyla plopped down on a huge ottoman next to me, folding her legs criss-cross applesauce.
“Nina,” Skyla said, “I don’t think you and Solina have been formally introduced. Solina Mundy, meet Nina Norgaard.”
Nina nodded at me but kept her face impassive. Closer inspection revealed she was older than me—maybe by as many as ten or fifteen years. She also had a few weeks-old bruises and abrasions. From a distance, her dark skin camouflaged the damage, and she looked as ageless and pristine as the subject of a hallowed painting. “Everyone’s talked about you a lot,” Nina said. She looked me over before turning back to her book. “Not sure what all the fuss is about.”
I ignored her cutting remark and smiled and tried to sound friendly. “Everyone’s talked about you, too. I can’t wait to hear your story.”
Baldur, maybe having heard the chatter of multiple females, entered the room and greeted me with an enthusiastic hug. “So glad to see you on the mend.”
“Feels good to be on the mend,” I said. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me.”
“No thanks are necessary. Just doing what I should have been doing all along.”
“What about Thorin? Skyla says you’ve had no word from him?”
Baldur lowered his eyes and frowned. “I can’t say for sure what happened to him.”
“Can’t you go look for him?”
Baldur’s gaze shifted to Nina. His face showed all his feelings, love but also apprehension. “I don’t want to leave her,” he whispered. “She’s not stable.”
“So we sit here and wait for Thorin to show up?”
Mjölnir’s chain still hung around my neck, and it would draw him to me… if he was capable of tracking it. The “if” was what worried me.
“Yes. We will rest and continue to heal. You’ll have to trust Magni to take care of himself.”
“But Grim had the sword. It’s a horrible weapon.”
“Magni has Mjölnir—it should not be underestimated.” Baldur’s assertions didn’t mollify me, but he couldn’t have cared less about my concerns. His attention shifted to Nina again, his eyes soft and unfocused.
Intent on her book, Nina behaved as though no one else existed in the room.
“Tell me about it.” I motioned in her direction. “How did you find her?”
Baldur huffed, almost a laugh, but an ironic one. “The doctors had put her in a medically induced coma, and it was like she was dead all over again.” She had survived an inexplicable single-car wreck on a stretch of rural desert highway outside Farmington, New Mexico, and the hospital staff had registered her as a Jane Doe. The car was a rental registered under an alias. She had no identifying papers with her, no driver’s license, and no cell phone. Her prints matched nothing in the national registry.
When the local police put out an APB about her on state and federal circuits, however, she showed up on Baldur’s radar, which he had built by meticulously begging, bribing, and threatening anyone who had the means to keep him and his private detectives appraised of any developments. Baldur had created a massive web that almost guaranteed Nina’s eventual discovery.
“I personally followed or paid someone to follow any lead,” Baldur said.
“How did you know she would show up in the US?”
Baldur snorted. “I didn’t.”
My mouth fell open. “You’ve been watching for her internationally?”
“Globally.”
“And you’re sure it’s her?”
Baldur nodded, and his face showed no uncertainty. “She’s been hurt, though. More than just the car wreck. I think Helen must have broken her before she put her in that hospital.”
“Why would Helen try to kill her?”
“I don’t think Helen wanted her dead. She set it up so I would find her. One of Helen’s shell companies was paying Nina’s medical bills.”
“How long had she been like that?”
“A few weeks. The doctors were bringing her out of the coma when Magni and I arrived. She didn’t know anyone or anything about what had happened to her, but I had already made arrangements to bring her home with me.”
“Why would Helen do that to her?”
“Helen never relinquishes her grasp on anyone without putting them through hell first. I should know.”
“Why would she let her go after all this time?”
“To distract me. To hurt me. To keep me busy with Nina’s rehabilitation instead of focused on guarding you. There are many reasons.”
“But you have her back. That’s got to be a great relief.”
Baldur smiled and ran a hand over his face, rubbing away the bleary look in his eyes. I’d never seen a god look tired before, but the white lines around his eyes and mouth showed the effects of his strains and injuries. “I have her, and I won’t let her go.”
Baldur made a simple supper of eggs, bacon, and toast. Nina ate without speaking unless spoken to and without meeting anyone’s eye. She tried her best to ignore Baldur altogether. I understood what Skyla meant about Nina being “not quite right.” After I cleaned my plate twice, Skyla helped me hobble back to bed.
“I’m going back to the Aerie in the morning.” Skyla leaned in my doorway and watched me settle into bed. “I’m not doing anyone any good sitting around here. I’m about to go stir crazy.”
“You’re doing me tons of good,” I said through a yawn. “Every time you leave me, bad stuff happens.”
Skyla sighed. “I know. Believe me, I know. I feel torn in two all the time.”
“Take it as a compliment. To be needed so badly, it means you’re doing something right.”
“If you want me to stay, I will.”
She meant it, and for that reason, I knew I had to let her go. “Go to the Aerie. Fix the Valkyries. Bring them over to our side. Make up a theme song and a costume while you’re at it. You’re my own personal hero, straight out of the comics.”
“Don’t give me all the credit.” Skyla smiled. “I was wrong to say the things I said about you. You are a fighter, Solina. I expected to find you half dead when we got there, but there you were at the end, fighting Tori in a blaze of glory.”
I nodded. “You were wrong, but it’s okay. We all have our moments of weakness. I’ve questioned your loyalty once. Now we’re even.”
“I won’t doubt you again.”
“Thank you for coming for me.”
Skyla shrugged and looked away. “I couldn’t have done it without Thorin. He was like this raging beast, flattening mountains, laying down forests. When I called him after you disappeared, he had already gone to Corvallis to look for you. He knew something bad was going to happen with his brother. He left Baldur and came for you. He would have gone to the ninth gate of hell to get you, Solina.”
“He feels responsible for me.”
“If Grim had killed you instead of Skoll, it would have ended all the Aesir’s problems very neatly. Thorin didn’t have to rescue you.”
“You talked him into it.”
“I didn’t have to say anything to him, Solina. I called him and had him meet us at Grim’s house at the lake. One look at my face, and Thorin was ready to go up the mountain that very moment. I had to convince him to hang out long enough to make a reasonable plan.” Skyla gave me a doleful look. “When we met up outside that cave, he barely spoke a word—just ground his teeth until Baldur and I were in place. I’ve known Thorin for three years. He’s always been so cool and collected.”
“Pssshaw,” I said. “As if.”
“You get under his skin, Mundy. I’ve never seen him so furious and so… so scared in all the time I’ve known him. I’ve climbed ice floes with him. We once outran an avalanche by the skin of our teeth. We faced down an angry bull moose on a hunting trip, and Thorin didn’t even flinch. In fact, he laughed at the moose and killed it with a freaking longbow while he was still chuckling. But this time, he was scared. He was afraid of losing you.”
I shook my head and yawned again. “It’s hard to see him as the sort who cares for anything other than his own hide.” Or maybe that’s just how you want to see him. Because it’s safer and easier.
Skyla reached for my light switch and flicked it off. The room went dark, and before she left me, she said, “I think it’s safe to say he cares for your hide, too.”
Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2) Page 26