Chapter Thirteen
Grady grabbed Taran the second we came back around the corner and hugged him so hard, Taran grunted. Then his dad let him go and yanked me in for a hug, too.
A mix of shock and warmth spread through me so fast, I clutched him back.
“I saw that giant lift you into the air, then I have no idea what happened. I expect a full explanation right—” He broke off when a woman screamed. Then another. People were gathering around the dead giant and loud sirens tore through the neighborhoods.
“Did the other two giants get away?” he asked as he started moving away from us.
“Yeah,” Taran answered. “Hey, Dad!”
Grady stopped. “Taran, I really have to take care of this area fast, get these people away from that thing and—”
“Dad,” Taran said, voice low and firm. “I know you’re gonna need me for questions and help here, but Coral and I have to go. Now. Some...things...took Josh and Grim. We’ve gotta try and find them.”
All color drained from Grady’s face. He stared at his son for a long time. “What kind of things?”
Taran waved a hand toward the giant. “Things along those lines, but smaller. I can handle them, Dad. You saw me with the hammer.”
Grady nodded. “I did. Doesn’t mean I’m going to let my son go off to fight an unknown threat.” He stepped closer to us, lowered his voice. “Are the boys in danger, Taranis?”
I was the one who nodded.
“Officer Breen!” A cop yelled.
“Just a minute,” Grady yelled back. “I’ll get you some walkies. You have to promise to call me when you find the boys. Don’t go after anyone alone. And I know you’re capable. Man, watching you was incredible today—” He broke off. “Today,” he repeated. “Today is your birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier.”
“We’ve kind of been busy. It’s really not a big deal.” Taran reached for my hand, threaded our fingers together. “Coral and I really have to go.”
“I need to get my bag—if it’s still at your house.” I frowned at Grady. “I’m sorry about your place.”
“It’s in better shape than some around it. Walls are intact. The outside ones anyway. The inside is another story. We won’t be able to stay there.” He looked at his son.
“We’re just going to get a few things and then look for Josh and Grim. We’ll worry about everything else later—including birthdays. I’ll have my friends, you and my girlfriend, so it’ll be great no matter what we do.
“Girlfriend?” his dad asked.
“Girlfriend?” I echoed.
“Yeah.” Taran gently squeezed my fingers. “I know. Like you said, it’s crazy fast. But I know what I feel.”
Grady cleared his throat. “Okay, well.” He cleared his throat again, so obviously flustered that he wasn’t sure how to respond.
But I got it. My nerves were firing off so hard inside me, I was pretty sure that Ratatoskr, the frenzied squirrel that ran all over the Yggdrasil tree, had just been let loose in there.
“So.” Grady actually winced when another cop yelled for him. “This crowd is getting out of control, and from what I’m hearing, the giants who got away made more messes. I have to help. I’ll have an officer drop you off as close as he can get to our house. It’ll be a couple streets north of it probably. There’s a lot of damage and standing water, so most of the roads aren’t passable.” He paused, then grabbed Taran for another bone-crushing hug. “Please be careful and promise to call me on the walkie when you find the twins. Before you do anything,” he reiterated.
“Promise.”
Grady was sucked into the frantic, confused crowd of people. Some, who had seen him fighting, grabbed at him, yelling questions.
“Girlfriend, huh? Don’t you think we ought to date or something first?” The amusement that sped through me wasn’t altogether my own. Go away, Verthandi, this is my private moment. When she settled, I stared up at this boy I knew was going to be a handful...and worth it.
“Yeah, we’ll date. After we take care of a few other things. Just thought I’d let my dad know that you’re going to be around more.” He looked up when a cop called his name. “Looks like Officer Burns has our walkie-talkies and our ride. Let’s go find my friends.”
It took a frustratingly long time to get even close to Taran’s house. Hours. When Officer Burns finally dropped us off a street over from Taran’s, I knew we were in for something rough, and I wasn’t wrong. We stood at the end of a road that barely resembled one. Right in front of us was half of someone’s bathroom. The wood frame stuck out on the sides and a fully intact beige toilet, which was still attached to the blue laminate floor, rested on its back. Next to it, a black Ford pickup was turned onto its side, the windshield a spiderweb pattern of cracks. A man stepped onto what was left of his porch to our right. He looked thick in layers of sweatshirts and pants, but was still shaking with cold as he gave us a sad wave. He disappeared back into his house. It was missing a side wall.
Grief lodged as a rock-hard lump in my throat.
“You said you know where they took them.” Taran’s mouth was pinched into a hard line as he looked at the destruction of his neighborhood.
“Brooks Bridge. My mother was there in my vision.”
“The spirit wolves,” he murmured, nodding. “Seems like I should have thought of that after growing up around the stories. But they only come at midnight on the third Wednesday. Or so the story goes. I’ve never seen them.”
“I have. But it doesn’t matter what day it is. The area is obviously a sacred place or they wouldn’t show up at all.”
Taran flexed his hands then closed them into fists. “Adrenaline is pumping through my system so hard and fast and it’s growing stronger. We need to hurry.”
We cut through yards, my boots squishing and crunching on the wet and icy grass. The cold, at this point, had started to feel like an insidious tormentor, constantly zapping at my energy reserves.
Taran’s house still had all its outer walls. One of the porch steps had been ripped off and part of the front door was missing. The outer door was nothing but a frame and a few sharp remnants of glass. Debris crunched under our feet as we walked inside. The overcast sky made the inside of the house feel like a dank cave. Already the scent of mildew crept into the air.
“We’ll have to replace all the walls and insulation, the furniture.” Taran stood in the middle of his living room, arms crossed. “This isn’t as bad as some of my neighbors’ homes.” He offered me a sad smile. “Maybe your spells helped.”
“Speaking of spells...” I walked into their bathroom, relief flooding me when I saw my bag still settled on the counter. The water had come into the room and pulled one cabinet door completely off, tossed towels and first aid supplies everywhere. Wet toilet paper covered the tub and toilet. This room felt colder than the rest of the house, so I started shivering pretty hard as I dug around in my bag. I pulled out the vial of black salt, slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder and returned to find Taran staring at the triple goddess art.
“We lost a lot of things in here, and I keep telling myself they’re just things and that everyone I love made it through this, so none of the material stuff matters.” He offered me a sad smile. “But I’m glad this particular ‘thing’ made it.”
“Me, too. You guys will probably need to move it to someplace less damp for a while.” I handed him the vial. “This is black salt. I found it that first night and meant to give it to you. My mom made it.”
He took the tube and held it in his palm, raised an eyebrow. “I say again, do you really want me to use something your mom made?”
I nodded. “It’ll be better to take it out of the vial, sprinkle it in your pockets. And I believe this will work great because she made it. Especially now that I’m pretty sur
e it’s not really my mother running around hurting people. Someone is using her. I saw her in the vision earlier, and it looked like maybe she’s been possessed.” I stepped over pieces of broken coffee table, then froze as I remembered something. “Oh gods, why didn’t I think of this before? The day she disappeared, my sister Kat showed Raven and me a rune tempus she’d done that said mother berserker. That’s what it meant.”
“Berserkers were crazed, killer Vikings, right?” He handed the mostly empty vial back to me and I shoved it into my coat pocket.
I shook my head. “You really should know more about your ancestors. It was a word used to describe some Vikings in battle, but nobody knows for sure what it meant. It could have been something as simple as raiders without their shirts on. But berserker was also a word that was used for possession. And now I’m pretty sure I know who is doing this. I know your mom told you stories about Thor and how the god Loki liked to mess with him.” I glanced up at Taran, who still stood motionless by his mother’s art.
“But those were pranks. These kids were hurt. Killed.”
“Well, if you’d spent centuries tied up in a cave while poison dripped on your face, you might be beyond the prank stage, too. Plus, I think he’s taking out kids with god souls on purpose. Maybe to make the battleground even more uneven in the end. I think the elves are helping him.”
“So you think they took Josh and Grim to lure me to Loki?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they took them because of the staff. They seemed pretty interested in it when they were gesturing at Grim.”
“But if Loki thinks Grim has a god’s soul—” He broke off.
I nodded, my heart in my throat. “He’ll be killed. We have to go after them now.”
* * *
“So you never saw the spirit wolves? I asked Taran as we picked over the slippery, snow-covered debris near Brooks Bridge. It was frustrating and slow going because every time we tried to hurry one of us inevitably slipped. I couldn’t even tell what we walked on anymore because the snowfall had thickened as more clouds had come in. It grew darker fast and I didn’t know if it was because of the cloud cover or if we were closer to twilight than I thought. But then, I saw the moon peeking out and realized it was later than sunset. I hoped then, with everything in me, that Taran’s power was supposed to come at the time of his birth. I knew it wasn’t later than eight o’clock. My stomach growled and my hands were shaking and I also realized we hadn’t had time to eat all day. Luckily, I still had my bag.
Or Taran did, since he’d insisted on carrying it after I’d slipped and fallen the first time.
“Neither did Josh and Grim. We sneaked out four different times. The last time was my seventeenth birthday, and that night, I felt something in the air, but still saw nothing.”
I touched his arm to get him to stop walking. “Hand me the bag. We should eat something and I have granola bars in it.”
There was enough light despite the dark clouds to catch his grimace. “Hate those things. I’ve figured out by now that you’re a vegetarian. Since I do hope we have those dates, will you have a problem with me eating meat? Because I have to tell you—”
“No,” I interrupted. “Of course not.” I pulled my bag off his shoulder and dropped it onto a snow-covered bench that luckily didn’t have anything else on it. I handed Taran a bar. “I feel really shaky, and I know you have to be hungry, so just choke it down.”
“Wow, I can see who’s going to be the bossy one in the relationship.” He sighed loudly but unwrapped the bar and took a bite.
“Who’s bossy? Who insisted on carrying my bag when I’m perfectly capable?” I pretty much inhaled my bar. It was so cold, it kind of tasted like nothing, but I felt better instantly. “Guess I should tell you I’m not that interested in kissing someone with meat breath. Just so you know.”
He was silent a few moments as he watched me dig around for another bar for him. Then he sighed again. “I’m gonna miss bacon.”
My stomach fluttered. “You don’t have to give it up. Just don’t eat it when you want to kiss me.”
“What if I want to kiss you all the time?”
“I guess one of us will have to compromise.” I wanted to smile at the conversation, but along with the return of food in my tummy came the fear. I didn’t know what we were about to face—not really. I glanced at the hammer Taran had slid into a leather belt he’d put on before we left his house. Would it be enough against dark elves and Loki? What if there were more giants? I’d have to find a way to fight these things, too—not just stand around. Of course, I had my bag of spells now. I briefly closed my eyes and took a deep breath because I was doing the random thought fart thing again. My shaking fingers finally found the other snack I had stashed. “Here, it’s a protein bar. You’ll like this one better.”
“I feel bad for ever making fun of your bag, Coral.” He took the bar and had it unwrapped and in his mouth so fast, I ducked my head and smiled. He never would have told me he was still hungry. I slid the strap onto my shoulder, ignored Taran’s frown because he was going to need free hands fast—I just knew it. I pointed. “Look, there’s still a pier standing.” I shivered, squinted, because I couldn’t tell if the shadowy shapes on that pier were moving. My heart started pounding. My palms started sweating and that horrible, prickly evil crept softly over my skin.
He was here.
The elf I was pretty sure I wanted to go far, far away from me before I learned something I couldn’t unlearn.
I spun around to see him stepping from behind a stack of storage crates that had fallen off a beached barge. Again, he moved with that fluid sort of grace, as if he almost danced to me. Which should have made him feel less threatening, but didn’t. Not at all. Moonlight reflected off his white hair and the teeth in his sudden, wide smile. It was too dark to see his eyes but I felt that gaze going over me just as it had back in the restaurant.
Taran spotted him and pulled his hammer from his belt.
The elf ignored him and kept coming toward us, and as he drew closer, the clouds moved just enough to let more moonlight through and I saw some kind of determination or intent in his marble-like face. It sent alarm skittering through me like mad.
Right before he reached us, crashing noises sounded from all around us, and suddenly it wasn’t the one elf in front of us, it was the entire group I’d seen in my neighbor’s backyard. The one with long, red hair yelled in the first elf’s face and gestured at me.
My breaths tore through my chest as I slowly reached into my bag and felt around for the sheathed boline I used for cutting herbs. It had a wickedly curved blade. My fingers clutched it, and I gave up trying to be subtle and pulled the knife out of the bag.
The bald elf looked down at my hand clutching the knife, threw his head back and laughed. Then, in that split second, I saw something pass through the first elf’s expression—something that gave me pause because I didn’t understand it at all. It almost seemed as if he got angry at the other elf for laughing at me. But then he scowled as the redheaded elf grabbed his arm and yelled again. He made a cutting motion with his hand and hissed.
The sound raised the hair on the back of my neck.
“I don’t see the twins,” Taran said, voice barely above a whisper. “Are these the same elves that took them?”
“Yes. I think I saw someone on that pier over there. Do you think they left Josh and Grim there?”
“I want to look but I’m not taking my eyes off these guys. Did you see how fast they move?”
I turned to squint at the pier but still couldn’t see enough.
Several of the elves joined in the yell fest, and my stalker one made that hissing noise again—this time so loud, it pierced my ears. I winced.
“You,” he said, pointing one of those creepy long fingers at me. “Come closer so I can see you.”
&
nbsp; I shook my head, gripped the knife so hard, my frozen fingers started to ache. “You saw me just fine in the restaurant, so no. Where are our friends? I saw you take them.”
“Such defiance,” he said slowly. His voice, like his graceful movements, was a weapon of enticement. Smooth, melodic and deep—it drew me in, made me want to step closer. I could only imagine the people or creatures the elves lured in in the past with their voices alone. “I learned your language,” he continued. “So I could speak with you.”
“You heard her then.” Taran said. “Where are the two boys you took?”
“The humans are fine.” The elf didn’t look at Taran; he never looked away from me, and that locked stare wasn’t only getting to me. My norn started to shift as a flood of fear and anger swept through me.
“My name is Vrunlin.”
The redheaded elf scowled, grabbed Vrunlin’s arm again and yelled right in his face. He kept pointing at me, then back into the shadows of the spilled barge.
Vrunlin ignored him, merely tilting his head so he could watch me. “He is saying I’m too weak to do what must be done. That I’ve allowed my...fascination with my creations to soften me.”
My stomach dropped into my feet. I gasped, tried to talk, but my mouth was suddenly desert-dry.
“No,” Taran said, half turning toward me even as he kept his gaze on the elves. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying.”
I swallowed a couple of times, trying to get my voice to work. “I don’t think he is. I told you I’d seen him before—that he came to see me and my sisters.” I managed to swallow the lump in my throat so I could raise my voice. When I spoke louder, the other elves shut up. “So I’m your—” I broke off, unable to say it.
He inclined his head in a strange, elegant sort of swoop. “My daughter? Yes.”
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