Forecast

by Rinda Elliott

  “Looks like we’re in for quite a ride,” Magnus muttered. “The storm isn’t hitting here, but they said earlier we could get a surge.” He looked at Mist. “Glad we left the Keys, but I guess we should have ignored the urge to stop here after all. I thought the snow was bad enough, but that storm coming in looks rough. Could be worse than they’re predicting.”

  This was the first I’d heard of this—not that I’d had any time to catch the news. I started to ask him what he was talking about when something else in the overly packed restaurant grabbed my attention.

  The same feeling from the night before at Taran’s—the dark, prickly evil—washed over me, and my mouth went dry as my gaze darted around the room, trying to find the source.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a pointy, dark face. Dark, like marble...not skin. Oh gods, it was straight out of my memories. I twisted my neck to look, but the man sitting in the booth seemed perfectly normal with his inky-black hair and beard. He tilted his head and stared back, a small smile playing about the corners of his red lips. I pulled my gaze away, only to see his dark skin and pointed features again out of the corner of my eye.

  I tried to keep my face still, tried to stare into my peripheral vision without looking directly, but he stood. He moved funny, gracefully, as if his limbs were more liquid than solid, and as he came toward me, my heart started pounding, my hands started sweating.

  He’d moved like that in my nightmares. The ones I’d had as a kid, over and over until I’d gone to bed afraid every night.

  I backed away from him, looked around to see if others were watching him—looking for expressions that would tell me if they saw two different images—and in the blink of an eye, he was in front of me, his hand out as if he wanted to stroke a finger down my cheek.

  Magnus made a startled noise from right behind me. “What the—”

  My norn suddenly twisted and writhed so hard in my chest, it actually hurt. I cried out, put my palm over my heart to calm her, but it almost felt as if she screamed in protest.

  I flashed back to those times in the tent. She must have been with me, but I hadn’t felt her move then—not until I’d turned nine.

  Now it was like having someone stick a billows in my chest—squeezing over and over, sending painful streams of thick air to thrash and fill until it was hard for me to breathe.

  She wanted me nowhere near this man-thing.

  So, she did what she did best.

  The man’s face grew pointier and darker, smearing to the side as the world around me slid into a spin. The gray tables, beige booth seats and a massive picture of corn folded around me, creating a swirl of color that forced me to close my eyes and grab onto a half wall behind a booth.

  When the world jerked to a stop, my eyes flew open and met the frozen stare of the man...no, creature, in front of me. He must have been using some sort of glamour that didn’t work during my rune tempus because though he was human in shape, he was something completely different in color. Skin like polished onyx reflected light, and his hair—the color of snow—had been shaved nearly to the skull. His stare, black as one of those ravens outside, was aimed directly at me, and held something odd. Something like curiosity. No it was more like...fascination. Maybe even wonder.

  I shuddered, stepped back and onto someone.

  Someone who grunted.

  “Oh my gods, I’m so sorry.” I knelt next to Magnus. He lay flat on his back, eyes scrunched closed, his hand on his stomach. “I didn’t mean to step—” I broke off, shock making me blink at him. “You’re moving around. You’re aware!”

  He put a hand on his stomach. “Yeah, but I’m not feeling too happy about it.”

  Someone else crouched down beside us and my mouth fell open as I met Mist’s beautiful amber eyes. She smiled, patted Magnus’s chest.

  “This happens a lot to you, doesn’t it, Coral?” Taran said on a groan from somewhere behind me. I glanced around to find him on the floor next to the table where Josh and Grim were also frozen in time. I hadn’t noticed them sitting down. Grim was mid-steal, a shrimp dangling from his fingers over his brother’s plate.

  Magnus sat up, glanced around and frowned. “It happened again?” He looked at me, his wide eyes bright against his skin. “I get the awake and aware part now. How are you moving?” He pointed to Taran. “He’s moving, too.”

  I plopped down onto my butt on the hard floor. “Are you saying time has stopped for you like this before?”

  He nodded. “For me and Mist. It started a couple of days ago. The world just randomly started spinning, then everybody else froze.”

  “A couple of days ago,” I repeated, thinking hard. Nobody had ever gone into this with me, not even my sisters. “It’s been happening to me for nine years.”

  “Damn. Really? I’m sorry.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Do you get used to it? I keep falling. I’m afraid one of these times, I’ll crack my head open.”

  I kept running his words through my mind. A couple of days ago. “Did it first happen at night? Around ten o’clock?”

  He nodded and groaned as he stood, still rubbing his head. “That’s right. Do you know what this is?”

  “It’s my magic, and nobody has ever gone into it with me before until ten o’clock at night two nights ago, when he was with me.” I pointed to Taran. “The two of us together must have triggered something. But what? And why?” I thought of the vision of the kids near the bridge. The one who had been knocked off the pier—he’d been moving, too. I studied Magnus. He was built like a linebacker with broad shoulders and big hands. He was traveling with a Valkyrie.

  Could their being aware have something to do with carrying gods’ souls?

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I looked at Mist.

  Long, blond hair swung against her chest as she shook her head. “I don’t understand your magic. It’s new.” She studied me as she stood. Hard. “You’re more than the others.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She frowned. “You aren’t a mere carrier. You are of magic, as well.”

  “Oh,” I breathed, nodding. “My mother is a witch.”

  Her smile was sad. “That’s not what I meant.” She looked behind me.

  Before I could ask her what she was talking about Taran gasped. I looked to find him staring past us.

  How could I have forgotten that creature?

  Oh gods, was he awake, too?

  I scrambled to my feet. His hand was still out with those crazy-long, narrow fingers. The tips were gray and curved, almost like claws, the eyes, shrewd and black stared into space.

  Shuddering, I took a step back. Then another. My body ran into Taran’s.

  “What is that?” he asked, wrapping one arm protectively around my waist.

  “I don’t know.” Now that my rune tempus had frozen the creature, it wasn’t going from normal-looking human to pointy creature in only my peripheral vision. It had stuck. With the strange, black dresslike outfit, I couldn’t tell if it was male or female, but I was going to assume male since that’s the look he’d had before. “He looked like a normal man before time stopped.”

  “Was it reaching for you?” Taran actually took my arms and moved me behind him as he stared at the creature. He kept making these protective gestures so naturally, they made my heart flutter.

  Magnus walked over to look at it closely.

  I held my breath, still afraid it, or he, would move. “He almost touched me. We have to get out of here before the world goes back to normal. I don’t care how strange it’ll be to everyone else.” They’d all forget soon enough with the snow and apparently a new storm to worry about. I glanced at the television, saw the massive, gray whirls they used for hurricanes in several places on the frozen screen. Not storm. Storms. Plural. Terror grabbed me by the gut.


  “Don’t you have to write something?” Taran asked.

  “What the hell is this thing?” Magnus poked it.

  “It’s a dark elf,” Mist said. Something in her tone made me glance at her to find her studying me before she looked back at the thing.

  Cringing, I waited for the elf to move. It could be pretending to be frozen. But it didn’t budge. My relief was short-lived because my norn shifted and twisted, her agitation sending a wave of anxiety through me. “Seriously, you guys, we have to get out of here. Now.”

  Taran had stepped closer and reached out to touch the thing’s face. “Wow, you gotta feel this. It’s like touching a granite countertop or something.”

  Mist frowned as she walked over and took Taran’s hand off the elf. “She’s right. You shouldn’t touch it. Elves are dangerous and very cunning. It would be best to take her away from it.”

  “Me?” I asked. “What about everyone else?”

  “Magnus and I will take care of the elf.”

  I pulled my small notebook from my pocket as my fingers started tingling. “We have to get Josh and Grim, too.”

  “Can you help me get them to her car?” Taran asked Magnus.

  The bigger boy nodded.

  Surprise froze me in place when Taran actually lifted Josh from the booth. He had to work him out of it because Josh’s body had frozen in a sitting position, but he didn’t seem to be struggling with Josh’s weight at all—even though Josh was bigger. Even Magnus watched Taran with narrowed eyes before he lifted Grim.

  “Dude’s strong,” he muttered to me as he walked past, Grim over his shoulder.

  I watched through the window as they struggled to get the stiff twins into my car, winced when Grim’s head bonked on the door frame. They finally got them inside on top of all the supplies I’d packed into my backseat. Taran leaned farther into the backseat—probably trying to work seat belts. Biting my lip, I turned to stare at the golden girl who didn’t look any older than me. “Magnus has a god’s soul, too, doesn’t he?”

  She nodded.

  “Where are you taking him?”

  “To the same place you’ll go when you join your sisters.”

  “I’m going somewhere? With my sisters? And that would be?”

  She gave me a sad smile. “I wish I knew exactly. It’s north.”

  “That’s it?” I tightened my fingers around my pen. “You don’t know anything else?”

  She stepped close to me. “My sisters and I are taking the warriors to the gathering of wolves and ravens. A place of fire and music on the lake. That’s all we were told.”

  “Maybe that’s here because I’ve seen gatherings of ravens.”

  “No, it’s possible they were drawn by you and your sisters. Or they are here for other reasons.”

  A place of fire and music on the lake, she’d said. I shut my eyes, frustrated with all the cryptic messages. First my norn and now her. “How will you know when you get there?”

  “I’m following the music.”

  “Do you hear it now?”

  She tilted her head. “You don’t?”

  I listened but heard nothing. “If Taran and I can’t hear whatever it is you’re hearing, how are we supposed to know where to go?”

  “You will.”

  I blew out a breath, my frustration burning a hole in my stomach. “We’ll just go with you.”

  She shook her head and pointed out the window where Taran and Magnus were running back to the restaurant. “Thor isn’t done here. He must have his hammer. It’s more important than you could possibly imagine.”

  My hand started to stiffen up and I growled in frustration, lifted my notebook. My cold fingers shook as my norn forced my hand to trace the runes. Again, she seemed to be emphasizing or yelling or I don’t know what, because she made me go over every line with the pen until it nearly went through the fragile paper.

  “Warriors’ fates to fulfill,” I murmured.

  Mist looked at the runes, nodded. “Verthandi speaks the truth. We all must follow our fates.”

  My frustration boiled over, spilling into anger that made my skin feel scorched. “How do you know who’s in me?”

  “Because I can see you. I can see you in a way the others can’t.” Again, she glanced at the elf with its creepy outstretched spindly hand. “So can he.”

  “What does he see?” I whispered. “What is it you see?”

  “Your darkness can be used for good or evil. The choice is yours.”

  “My darkness. Oh, this is ridiculous.” I tightened one hand into a fist, feeling the need to punch someone other than Kat for the first time in my life. “Tell me what in the nine levels of hell is going on, and don’t use these cute, cryptic phrases. Speak. First, what’s the message about warriors’ fates about?”

  Her eyes had grown narrower as my tone had risen. Now she crossed her arms. “Everyone here has a fate. You know yours—just as you know the boy’s. This boy you are coming to care for.”

  I stared at Taran through the glass as he reached the restaurant door, knowing she was right. I liked him. A lot. “His fate is to die,” I whispered through clenched teeth.

  She said nothing, her expression full of sympathy.

  It was my fate, too. But I didn’t tell her that part. She probably already knew.

  Magnus opened the door, his voice carrying easily with even the wind outside frozen in place. “How did you carry him like that?”

  Taran shrugged as he came inside and stomped his feet to loosen the snow attached to his sneakers. “I’ve always been kind of strong.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them, his dark brown gaze zeroed in on me.

  I saw something in his expression—a sort of acceptance—that made me hold my breath.

  “Guess Coral has been right about a few things,” he murmured. “My mom, too. About the gods.”

  “Some kind of freaky shit, isn’t it?” Magnus strode across the room to the elf. “I always knew something was different about me.” He looked down as he flexed his huge fists. “Look at these big, beefy hands. They’re three times the size of my father’s.” His smile was crooked as he held out his hand at the height of his lower chest. “My dad is this tall and swears he wouldn’t believe I was his kid if it weren’t for this face. Said he passed down the handsome.”

  “Who—” I broke off, cleared my throat. “Who do you think you have?”

  He pointed at his chest. “You mean in here? Don’t feel anything, but Mist tells me it’s some guy named Magni.”

  I remembered the story of Magni helping Thor in battle, pulling a giant’s leg off his neck. I sought out Billy, still lying on the floor. Goose bumps ran up and down my arms and I rubbed them. “Thor’s son with the frost giant, Jarnsaxa.”

  “Son?” Taran croaked. “Talk about some kind of freaky shit.”

  Before I could explain, that prickly, almost-painful feeling brushed over my skin, crept up my spine, and I frantically looked at the elf.

  Just as its hand moved.

  Chapter Five

  “The elf is fighting her magic,” Mist whispered, her lips tightening. “I see nothing in this place to use to tie it up. You have to get her out of here now. They’re hard to fight—fast and devious.”

  “But what about you guys?” Taran asked. “We can’t leave you here with that.”

  Mist held out her hand to Magnus. “Give me your belt.”

  He unbuckled it, pulled it off, and instead of handing it to her, he wrapped it around the creature. He grimaced as he worked to hook and tighten it, pulling the elf’s arms close to its body.

  One of its fingers bent, then straightened. Slowly—so, so slowly—his head turned until his black eyes locked back on me.

  Mist sort of flung
out her hands and two daggers appeared in her grips as she yelled at Taran. “You’re out of time. Go! He only wants the darkling, so you have to get her away from him!”

  “Darkling?” My norn twisted and writhed, causing me to gasp and bend over. “No, wait! You have to explain that. Why’d you call me that?” But my norn had other ideas. Felt as if she sucked the air out of my lungs, and my legs buckled, my knees cracking on the hard floor. I tried to breathe, staring up at Mist and the elf in front of her.

  “Her goddess wants her gone!” Mist grimaced as the elf’s hands curled into fists.

  My blood just froze in my body—my terror that profound.

  “Run!” she screamed.

  Taran swept me off the floor and had me through the door and at the passenger side of my car fast. I gasped and held my chest, wanting this new pain to stop, but needing to know what she’d meant by darkling even more.

  “You can’t drive like this,” he said. “Where are your keys?”

  “Pocket,” I managed to gasp.

  Taran found my keys, buckled me into the passenger seat and ran around to the driver’s side.

  Leaving Magnus and Mist didn’t feel right. I struggled to get my breath as the pain started to ease in my chest and I twisted, catching sight of them hauling the elf toward a black pickup as Taran adjusted the seat before peeling out of the parking lot’s back exit. One of the creature’s legs kicked out, hitting Magnus in the hip as he tossed it into the bed of the truck. What were they doing? It could just jump out.

  “Your rune thing didn’t last this long last time,” Taran said as he adjusted the mirror. “What did your runes say?” he asked as he swerved around a car.

  “Warriors’ fates to fulfill.” I put my hand on the dash, bracing myself. “That’s a nothing message.”

  “It can’t be nothing—not with all this going on.” He glanced over his shoulder. “What do you think they were going to do with that elf?”

  I shuddered, remembering the way it had looked at me. “I don’t know.” I just wanted to know what Mist had meant by darkling. Desperately. Now that my norn was settling, I tried to remember all the stories and could only think of one. A small mention of a giant married to Nott, who had a son called Aud. His name, Naglfari, meant darkling. That was it. There were no more stories of them that I’d read.