Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2)

by Karissa Laurel

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  I seemed to return to the apple orchard only moments after I closed my eyes. Thorin had called it the house of Idun, but I had spent so much time there restoring the grounds and renewing the trees that I felt the right to claim some sort of ownership. The moment I stepped foot into the grassy yard, however, I saw I wouldn’t have it to myself.

  “I wondered if you would show up,” Thorin said. His wore his hair tied back in a long tail, and he was soot smudged, sweaty, and… shirtless. The torc that Baldur had made from Thor’s belt circled his neck, a braided iron ring that contrasted with Thorin’s supple skin. My mouth went dry at so much beauty on such grand display. He remained intent on his work, stacking stones from a large pile at his feet onto a wall on one side of the crumbled house. Elegant muscles flexed beneath golden skin, and my fingers itched to touch him. He was a god, the strongest among them, and his frame and form epitomized extreme might and power.

  I swallowed and, with a mostly steady voice, asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “What does it look like?” Thorin heaved a boulder into place beside the remnants of a door frame.

  “You’re rebuilding. But why?”

  “Needed a place to hang out for a while. Things have gone bad.”

  “In what way? What are you talking about?”

  Thorin brushed his hands over the thighs of his old-fashioned work pants—something I

  had never seen him wear before. I had never noticed what I wore when I came here, but I looked down and found myself dressed in something like the Valkyries’ ceremonial garb: a white gown flowing in elegant panels, draping down to my toes. Okay, that’s weird.

  “I told you my brother was trouble,” Thorin said.

  “You just couldn’t wait to say, ‘I told you so’?”

  “I was right, wasn’t I?”

  “I told you not to go looking for Nina out at those warehouses in Arizona, and you didn’t listen to me about that, either.”

  “We’re both too stubborn for our own good, I guess,” he said. “The difference is in the level of risks we take. The consequences are not as dire for me as they are for you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You think I don’t regret it? You think I haven’t learned my lesson? Paid my price?”

  “This all could have been avoided.”

  “If I let you keep me in a cage,” I said. “Or you could borrow your brother’s idea and just kill me rather than wasting all your energy trying to keep me alive. It’s the sure thing, you know. Grim was right about that.”

  Thorin growled and stalked closer.

  “I’m more trouble than I’m worth,” I said in a defiant tone. Without self-pity, I meant my words as a challenge. “Don’t you think?”

  Thorin sounded like a bear when he spoke again, all low and guttural. “What are you playing at? Why are you always intent on antagonizing me?”

  My shoulders slumped, and I exhaled. To push you away, of course. “I couldn’t fight your brother, so maybe I’m taking my frustrations out on you.” I dragged my eyes up over his body, making my appraisal obvious. “You can take it, though, can’t you?”

  I crossed the distance between us and stepped behind Thorin. “Look at you.” I traced a finger across his bare back, from shoulder to shoulder. His skin was warm and alive under my fingertip. “You’re a real-life Atlas, shoulders that can bear the weight of the world. You’ll save us all, won’t you?”

  “Morbid, Solina.” Thorin turned to intercept my orbit. He took my hand, the one tracing over his back, and clasped it between both of his. “It’s not your nature.”

  “How do you know my nature?” I asked.

  However, Thorin was right. That forwardness was unlike me, but I didn’t exactly feel like myself in that place. Asgard.

  “I know you better than you think I do,” he said. “You forget I knew you in another life.”

  My eyebrows arched high. “How is that possible?”

  “In your soul, you are Sol. You always have been, and you always will be.”

  I tugged my hand, and Thorin released it. I stepped away, relieving some of the tension between us. Thorin’s words disconcerted me, and I needed to process.

  “Why are you here?” I asked. “Why are you rebuilding Idun’s house?”

  “I came here a day ago, and I haven’t been able to leave,” Thorin said. “That’s never happened before.”

  “So you’re setting up house and planning to stay for a while?”

  “It rained last night, and it was miserable. I’ve got to make shelter until I can figure out how to get away.”

  “Come with me. I’ll take you back.”

  He shook his head as a sad smile tugged at his lips. “It doesn’t work that way, Sunshine.”

  “If you don’t want to be here, I’ll help you go,” I said, confident in my ability to lead him away. I waved my hand around the lush yard and growing trees. “Though why you want to leave this place, I don’t really know. It’s so peaceful. No wolves. No fire. No monsters.”

  Thorin’s sad smile brightened. “It is lovely, isn’t it? You should have seen it before, when it was all fresh and alive.” He collected his shirt from the ground, wiped his face, and cleared the soot from his arms. He stepped toward me again, close enough to reveal the copper flecks sparkling in his eyes. “Something has gone wrong.”

  “You said that before. I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I shouldn’t be stuck here.”

  “I’ll figure out how to get you unstuck.”

  “No. No matter what happens to me, you must keep yourself safe. Do not attempt to find me.”

  “Don’t find you? But you’re right here.” I laughed a nervous titter, and my heart beat in a cadence of alarm, fast and fluttery.

  “That’s right. I’m here. And this is where you’ll leave me.”

  “I’ll leave when I good and well feel like it.”

  Thorin’s breath tickled my face as he chuckled. “I meant that you won’t attempt to do anything to make me leave.”

  “Like I’d think for a minute I could make you do anything you didn’t want to.”

  Thorin’s eyes darkened, but not in anger. “You make me do all kinds of things I never intended to do.”

  Although Thorin and I stood inches apart, it felt as though we were staring at each other across a wide valley filled with unspoken sentiments. Thorin’s allure pulled at me, urging me to act, to do something decisive for once. I resisted that impulse, and as if sensing my reticence, Thorin stepped back and shook his head. “You don’t have to leave, but I wish you would. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  His dismissal stung, but it cleared my head. I latched onto it and used the hurt to temper my urges. It’s not right to want someone so much. He’s a god, and I am not. How can it go any way but badly between us? “Don’t do anything to hurt my apples.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He turned and walked back to his rock pile and crouched among the stones. “They’ve kept me going. They’ve attracted small game, squirrels and birds. This place is coming back to life.” He turned to look up at me. “I don’t know how you did it, but it’s a miracle.”

  “It has to be a miracle. I don’t know quite how it happened either.” I told him about how the first tree had come back to life under my touch and how I’d planted the seeds from the first apple harvest.

  Thorin smirked and shook his head. “I never thought I would see the day.”

  “You think it means something?”

  “I don’t know what it means, but I’m thankful for the little bit of life you’ve brought with you.”

  “Is it really Asgard?”

  Thorin selected a rock and rose from his crouch. He hauled it to the newly erected section of Idu
n’s house and heaved the stone into place. “It’s really Asgard. It exists on a plane that is contrary to human existence.”

  “It’s like a dream. It’s hard to believe any of it might be real. I don’t think I’m fully myself when I come here. Part of me is somewhere else.”

  “The part of you that comes here is the spirit of Sol that gives you your ability with fire.” Thorin stopped working again and gave me a solemn look. “So long as you live, you remain tethered to her. She is you, and you are her. That which defines you as Sol is not tangible. Your spirit can exist in Asgard, but not your humanity.”

  I motioned toward the burnt-out skyline behind us. “Do you think it could be rebuilt?”

  “I would have said no before, but I’m beginning to wonder.”

  “I could stay and help you,” I said. “I like it here.”

  “When you are separated like this, you are putting yourself in danger. If Helen found you in the earthly realm right now, you would be easy prey. This is only a half life for you. You must go back.”

  “And leave you here, alone?”

  “I’ve been alone for centuries, Sunshine.”

  I crossed the yard and stopped at a spot that kept the rock pile between us. “What happened to you?”

  Thorin, moving like a snake, slithered around the meager barricade of stones and towered over me, his eyes blackened by the ferocity of his imperative. “Forget about me. Baldur will take you to his home and protect you. Forget about going after Helen. Forget about Skoll. Keep yourself alive. Forgive me for the comic-book dialogue, but the fate of your world rests on your life, and you cannot jeopardize that on my behalf. Not for me, not for Val, not for Skyla, the Valkyries, your parents, or your brother. If Helen wins, if Skoll takes you, then all of that is gone. My life doesn’t even begin to weigh on that scale.”

  Thorin’s hand shot out and latched onto my upper arm, squeezing. “Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand.” I returned his bold gaze and didn’t shrug off his grip, although my arm throbbed in protest.

  “Tell me you’ll do as I say.”

  “You want me to forget about you?”

  Thorin snarled. “Yes.”

  I spread my lips into a thin, defiant smile. “I’ve never done a damn thing you told me to do before, Thorin, and I don’t plan to start doing it now.”

  I awoke with a gasp. The sudden shift from Idun’s garden to the real world upset my sense of balance, and the room swirled around me. The howl of Thorin’s outrage echoed in my ears, but the man himself remained in Asgard, trapped. The cabin breathed as a squall of wind passed by. I inhaled several deep breaths and sent them out in one therapeutic whoosh. When my heartbeat settled into a normal rhythm again, I eased against the headboard and let my mind drift back, replaying my encounter with Thorin.

  Thorin’s argument presented solid reasoning. His life for the fate of the world? Logically, I would have said no, he wasn’t worth that much. Something inside me wanted to disagree. I shifted in the big, empty bed and sat up, intending to go to the kitchen for a drink of water. I considered finding something mind-numbing to watch on TV and shutting out my thoughts for a bit. Going back to sleep was a hopeless goal.

  As I reached across the bed to snap on the lamp, I noticed something on the pillow beside me, something heavy enough to sink into its downy filling. When my fingers curled around the item, I recognized the shape, but it radiated none of its usual warmth. All my aches and pains drained away as panic sent me racing from the bed, calling for Skyla.

  Skyla threw open her bedroom door and rushed to meet me in the living room. Whatever she saw on my face sent the blood draining from her own. “What is it?” she demanded. “Helen? Skoll?”

  “No.” I presented my discovery. Skyla looked down at my open hand and gasped.

  By then Baldur had joined us. He saw my prize and swore. “Mjölnir? Is Magni back?”

  “No. I found it lying on the pillow next to me.”

  “What does it mean?” Skyla asked.

  Baldur shook his head. “Nothing good. Mjölnir would never leave Magni unless it was taken from him unwittingly or if he lost the will to possess it.”

  “Lost his will?” Skyla asked. “Like…” She swallowed and started again. “Like, if he died?”

  “It only means he’s lost the force of will required to possess Mjölnir. Something terrible has happened, but I cannot presume to know what.”

  “He’s not dead,” I said. I told Baldur and Skyla about Asgard and what Thorin had said in Idun’s garden about not being able to leave. “You can go there and get him, Baldur. You can make him leave.”

  Baldur shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Not without knowing where Magni’s corporeal body is. His godhood cannot exist in this plane without his body.”

  “Are you saying Asgard is, like, an afterlife or something? You have to be a spirit to go there?”

  “Not an afterlife. Just an alternate plane of existence with different physical laws.”

  “We have to go back to the glacier,” I said. “When I lose things, I always look in the last place I saw them.”

  “He’s not a set of keys. You’re in no condition to go traipsing around Mount Rainier. You nearly froze to death, Solina.”

  “If Thorin hadn’t come for me, I probably would have. He came for you when you needed him, too, Baldur. You’re going to abandon him when he needs the favor returned?”

  Baldur’s face crumpled. “No, but I’ve got Nina to think about, and keeping you safe is above everything else.”

  I squawked and pounded a fist on my thigh. “Why can’t you just blip over there and take a look?”

  Baldur sucked in a deep breath and blew it out in a rush. “Yes. I can do that much, at least.”

  “Skyla,” I asked, “are you still planning to go back to the Aerie?”

  Skyla shrugged. “Well, I was—”

  “Good. Just promise me you’ll make time to look for Val.”

  “Solina, you know how I—”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” I said. “We’re not going to abandon people every time a little bit of trouble comes along. If you find Val, tell him everything he’s missed.” I turned and pointed at Baldur. “You get your ass back up that mountain and find out what happened to Thorin and Grim.”

  Baldur shook his head and gave me a defeated smile. “Are you sure you’re not fully Aesir? You command like a full-blooded goddess.”

  I braced my hands on my hips and managed to peer down my nose at him despite his height advantage. “I’m a fast learner.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  After Skyla left for the Aerie, Baldur made me demonstrate the extent of my recuperation before he agreed to leave me alone with Nina as my only companion. I managed to create a palm-sized fireball but had to stop when dizziness overwhelmed me.

  “This goes against my better judgment,” Baldur said.

  “Your better judgment sucks,” I said.

  Baldur winced, and his face reddened. “You have a fiery tongue, girl. My advice is to use honey rather than acid when you’re asking for favors.”

  I bit off a retort, realizing he had a point and I had no right to disrespect him, especially after he had helped rescue me and set up shelter for the women who had found themselves suddenly under his protection. Besides, he had readily agreed to carry out my request.

  “You are completely right. That was harsh, and I’m sorry.” I pecked a quick kiss on his cheek. My gesture flustered him, flushing his fair completion. “Thank you for checking on him.”

  Baldur’s gaze flicked to Nina’s closed door. She had stayed hidden in her room all morning despite all the noise and excitement. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. If something happens and I don’t come back, take Nina and leave. Stay on t
he move until you can meet up again with your Valkyrie friend. She is fierce and brave. I think she is your best bet. Maybe she will find Val.”

  “I hope so. Losing both of them would be a hit I’m not sure I could take.”

  “We are a tough breed. Don’t discount him, and don’t discount Magni.”

  Baldur moved, about to turn and leave, but a sudden memory struck me, and I reached out to stop him. “Keep your eyes open, Baldur. It could have been a hallucination, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, no?” And I told him about seeing Rolf Lockhart in my last moments of consciousness after my fight with Grim and Tori.

  “Maybe you were having another vision.”

  I nodded. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t take it for granted. We don’t know who he is or what he’s capable of. Just… be careful.”

  Baldur squeezed my shoulder. “It was good that you told me what you saw. Even if it was a premonition, we can’t know when it might come true. I will be watchful.”

  Baldur left after that. I went to the living room and turned on the TV. It did nothing to distract me, so I paced the living room. Eventually, my nervous energy sent me out to the front porch to check for signs of Baldur’s return.

  The rental cabin sat at the base of Mount Rainier, just outside the national-park boundaries. Tall aspen and pine trees surrounded the house, and the sharp bite of winter flavored the air. Under better conditions, I would have enjoyed the refuge of such a magnificent setting. I huddled deeper into the blanket I’d taken from my closet and lost myself in thought. Maybe that’s why I failed to notice Nina had joined me until she spoke.

  “It’s cold out here. How can you stand it?”

  I flinched and twisted around to find her peering up at the blue sky, peeking through the breaks in the tree tops. “I’ve got an extra layer on,” I said. “Maybe you should grab a coat or something.”

  “I don’t have a coat. Baldur hasn’t stopped in one place long enough to get me a decent set of clothes.”