Rock, Paper, Shivers: Act Six and Seven (Bitter Ashes Book 4)

by Sara C. Roethle

  I felt like I was going to faint. We were allegedly in the year 820, and I was . . . pregnant. Mikael had to be lying. He was descended from the god of deception for crying out loud.

  Alaric stood and offered me a hand up. Not sure if I was ready to stand, I took the hand anyway. I looked to Mikael, unable to summon the glare I wanted to give him, but he rose and nodded like he knew what I was thinking.

  “I will give you two a moment,” he stated, then moved away toward what seemed like the edge of a cliff.

  With the sudden realization that we were up on a high cliff, not down on solid, safe ground, another wave of dizziness passed over me. We weren't anywhere near the edge, but I'm not great with heights at the best of times, and it definitely wasn't the best of times. I leaned against Alaric, not sure what to say.

  “We were careful,” he stated, focusing on the more mundane problem, rather than what Mikael had done to us.

  I nodded. “He has to be lying.”

  Alaric shook his head. “That would be a direct betrayal, and would break his oath. If he'd told me that you were pregnant, he could have lied, but he told you directly.”

  I shook my head, unable to digest the idea of a living creature forming inside me with everything else going on. “I really can't focus on the magnitude of both of these situations at once, so I'm just going to pick the more pressing issue. How the hell is time travel possible? I mean, I know the Norn's have a lot of magic, but this is ridiculous.”

  Alaric sighed. I could tell he wanted to discuss the other situation, but still he answered, “The Norns are meant to weave the fates that we choose ourselves, but they are capable of giving things a . . . shove from time to time.”

  “The fates we choose?” I asked, wondering at his word choice.

  Alaric smiled slightly with a faraway look in his eyes. “Fate might guide us,” he explained, “but there is always a choice.”

  I shook my head, not sure if I even believed in fate at all. “If the Norns can shove fate,” I asked numbly, “then why aren't they ruling the world?”

  Alaric wrapped his arms around me and shrugged. “They aren't motivated by power like the rest of us. Plus, for shoves this grand, they'd have to all agree. Rarely do so many of them work together.”

  “So whatever Mikael wants here is important,” I deduced, “or else the Norns would never have helped.”

  Alaric sighed and kissed the top of my head. “Or else they owed him a very big favor.”

  I buried my face in his chest. “I like the first option better.”

  “About the pregnancy,” he began hesitantly.

  I looked up at him, trying my best to keep the tears that had built up in my eyes from falling. “Can we please just worry about getting back to our own time for now?”

  He gave me a soft smile. “That's probably wise.”

  We both looked to where Mikael stood near the edge of the cliff, looking quite picturesque with his warrior's garb, and long auburn hair whipping about in the wind.

  Alaric pulled away from me then took my hand before walking in Mikael's direction. I went reluctantly, not wanting to go anywhere near the cliff side. We stopped a few steps behind him, but it was close enough to see the dark ocean several hundred feet below. The angry waves whipped about like a storm was coming, and sure enough, one was. The sky further out in the ocean was gloomy and ominous. I pulled my hand free of Alaric's to wrap my arms around myself against the cold wind, but it did little good.

  “Why are we here, Mikael?” Alaric asked.

  Mikael turned to us with a secretive smile. “To help Madeline, of course.”

  I glared at him, because it was better than looking over the edge of the cliff. “If you really want to help me, you'll tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Mikael inclined his head in assent. “We're here to find one of the key's previous owners.”

  My eyes widened as I touched the key at my throat. It had been so quiet that I'd almost forgotten it was there. “Why would we want to do that?”

  Mikael chucked. “Because she's the only one to have used it to its full potential, and lived to tell the tale.”

  My mouth went dry. No one had ever said anything about the charm killing me. As far as I knew, it wanted me to use it, and would work to stay in my possession until I could, but what then? I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead. If I was actually pregnant I wasn't sure if I could go through with any of it. I also wasn't sure if I had a choice.

  Not waiting for my reply, Mikael turned and began walking back toward where we had originally appeared. Alaric and I trotted to catch up, and I was grateful to find that my stomach did not protest the extra movement. Mikael led us past that spot, then onward.

  “Why did Sophie and James get left behind?” I asked, breaking the silence as the three of us made our way inland.

  Sparse trees had begun to populate the meadow as we walked, but they were short and didn't have much foliage, making me hope our destination wasn't far. The storm on the horizon was gaining on us, and the wimpy trees would offer little shelter.

  “James was always going to be left,” Mikael replied from several steps ahead of us. “Sophie simply ran too far and ended up outside the boundary of the spell.”

  I glared at him. “You said that James could come. You lied.”

  Mikael laughed. “I said that he could come to the meeting, and he did. I made no promises after that.”

  I bit my lip in irritation. I needed to improve my abilities at skirting around the truth if I was ever going to compete with Mikael.

  “What about Aila?” I pressed. “One would think you would have brought her.”

  “Someone must advise the troops while I'm away,” he said simply.

  I shook my head, irritated by his vague answers.

  “So this person that we're looking for,” I began, hoping that a new angle would actually garner some useful information, “did you know her, you know, back in this time?”

  “She was my wife,” he replied as he walked ahead of us.

  “Wife?” I asked, really wishing I had seen Mikael's expression as he said it. “You don't really seem like the love and marriage type.”

  Mikael chuckled. “You've got me there. Marriage in these times was more of a contractual obligation between two families, and this was a time when our people still lived amongst humans. We did our best to blend in.”

  “So the woman we're looking for is human?” I pressed, confused.

  “No she is Vaettir, but to others it would have been strange if two youths from well-off families remained unwed.”

  “Did you have children?” I asked, then instantly regretted it. It was so not my business, and I really didn't want to think about the idea of children at that moment.

  “Yes,” he replied still not giving me any hint on how he was feeling.

  His lack of emotion led me to suspect that I'd hit a nerve. I had decided to just shut up when Alaric asked, “What happened to them?”

  Mikael was silent, and for a moment I thought he wouldn't answer, but then with a tired sigh he said, “In this current time they are young men off to war. In our time, they have been ash for hundreds of years.”

  We were all silent then. Thunder rumbled behind us, reminding us that we would soon be highly uncomfortable if we didn't find shelter.

  Just then, the scent of distant woodsmoke filled my nose. I'd never realized what a comforting scent it could be until that moment, when we were so far from anything we knew. The smoke smelled like civilization, and the comfort of others living with the same problems you faced. In this case the others were likely fierce Vikings that would rather pillage the next town over than sit down for a nice cup of tea, but I'd take my comforts where I could find them.

  We all continued on in silence as a path became clear in the grass. It seemed like Mikael knew exactly where we were going, even after all of the time that had passed since he'd last been there. I wondered if he would try to see his children whi
le we were there, which led me to wonder how we were going to get back to our own era when the time came. I knew Mikael had to have a plan, but I really would have liked a preview.

  I shivered, and pushed the uncomfortable thoughts about time travel out of my head, turning them back to Mikael. If he was feeling nostalgic or sad about his kids, I couldn't tell. He was better at shutting out his emotions than most, and I had a feeling he'd lived that way for quite some time, focusing on plotting and intrigue instead. It would have been interesting to meet him as a young, un-jaded man. That particular thought led me to a question.

  “We're not going to run into your past self, are we?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  Mikael slowed his steps to walk on my side opposite Alaric. “Past me has long since fled this place. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't seem angry that I brought you here.”

  “I'm angry,” Alaric interrupted.

  I shrugged. “I don't appreciate the way you went about it, but I wouldn't mind speaking with someone who fought the charm and won.”

  Mikael smiled bitterly and looked ahead. “I said she lived, I didn't say she won.”

  With that portentous tidbit, an odd thought dawned on me. “Back when we first came to your Salr, the charm knew your name. When it spoke through me, it was as if it knew you.”

  Mikael glared at me. It was the first time I'd seen any real anger in his expression. “That was not the only time I was forced to kneel before the Lykill.”

  I took a step away from that expression as we walked, putting me closer to Alaric. “If you hate the charm so much, why are you involving yourself in any of this?”

  His mood changed so suddenly that it was a little unnerving. “We're here because I want to beat it. I want to use it for my own advancement, and then I want to show it that it has no power over me.”

  Alaric snorted. “So this is all about your centuries long vendetta against an object?”

  Mikael's expression turned sour. “And how much of this is about your centuries long vendetta against me?”

  “If it weren't for Maddy,” Alaric began calmly, “I would have already killed you.”

  “You would have tried,” Mikael snarled.

  I was beginning to feel overwhelmed with both men's emotions so close to the surface, a mixture of pride, aggression, and underneath that, regret.

  “You guys are making me dizzy,” I complained. “Please shove that anger back below the surface where you usually keep it and Mikael, tell me more about your wife.”

  Mikael clenched his jaw, but did as I asked. “Erykah was- is a telepath. The charm used her in more subtle ways, gleaning information from the minds of others to use for its own devices.”

  “What made her decide to get rid of it?” I asked, since I'd considered just ditching the thing countless times, but for some reason had never followed through.

  Mikael looked at me like I was being silly. “Deciding to get rid of it is one thing, actually doing it is quite another.”

  I scrunched my face in confusion as I stumbled over a rock. Alaric caught me before I could fall too far. “I don't follow.”

  “Have you tried?” he asked as he waited for me to regain my footing.

  I shook my head and began walking again. “I've thought about it, but I don't want to risk it falling into the wrong hands.”

  “Is that really the reason?” he pressed.

  The smell of woodsmoke was growing nearer, and I really wanted him to get to his point before we reached where we were going.

  “Of course it is,” I replied without really thinking about it.

  “Try taking it off and dropping it to the ground,” he advised.

  I gave him a you wish look. “Why, so you can take it?”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “Now why would I take it, when I've set into action this elaborate plan to help you learn how to control it?”

  I bit my lip. Hadn't he already proven that he wasn't trying to take it, and hadn't he sworn an oath that prohibited him from betraying me?

  “The reality is that you can't take it off. It has chosen you, and any time you think of taking it off, you'll find an excuse not to,” he explained.

  “Try it,” Alaric prompted, looking suddenly worried.

  I stopped walking and reached a shaky hand up to my throat. Mikael and Alaric both stopped a few steps ahead and turned to face me.

  I closed my eyes and touched the cool metal with my fingertips, but all I could think about was that if I took it off, it might get lost in the grass, and then where would we be?

  I forced my fingers to close around it, and tried to make myself tug down on it to undo the leather cord . . . but if I broke the cord, how would I re-affix it? Wasn't this just a test anyway? There was no need to undo the cord when I would just put it back on. I didn't need to prove that I could do it.

  I looked back up at the men in front of me. “I don't think I can do it,” I breathed.

  Alaric looked momentarily stunned, then he walked up to me and grabbed the charm at my neck. As soon as his fingers made contact with the metal, a burst of energy emanated from me, throwing him off his feet to land in a heap where he'd started, and knocking me down onto my butt.

  Alaric sat up and looked at me from across the expanse between us in shock. “Oh fuck.”

  I felt like I might cry. “You can say that again.” I turned my frightened eyes up to Mikael, the only one left standing. “How did she do it? How was she able to get rid of it?”

  Mikael offered me a hand up as Alaric rose on his own. “I believe it would be better for Erykah to explain. The village is not far.”

  I nodded shakily and removed my hand from Mikael's. I had the urge to reach my fingers up to touch the charm, but I resisted. That, at least, I was able to do.

  The first few raindrops from the storm began to fall, and with a nervous look behind us, Mikael urged me ahead of him down the path. Alaric was soon at my side, and we continued onward with a storm licking at our heels, both literally and metaphorically.

  Chapter Five

  We were soaked by the time we reached the village, and I was again awestricken by our situation. Many of the village structures were small, with wooden walls showing only on one or two sides. The other sides were covered by the green, loamy earth that encased the roofs, making it seem like the buildings had grown into the ground like something straight out of a fairytale. The layout of the buildings was circular, with the smaller buildings facing each other in a semi-arc.

  While the small homes were enchanting in their own, rustic way, what really caught my attention was the longhouse. I'd taken enough history classes in college to know that the longhouse was the main habitation in many ancient Scandinavian villages, and it definitely appeared to be the case in this village, judging by the size of the oblong structure. Animal skins covered the door of the wooden building, shielding whoever might be inside from the downpour.

  The three of us stood together outside of the village, but no one moved forward. I looked to Mikael, wondering what the hold up was. At first I thought it was just from the rain, since it had soaked his dusky red hair to drip onto his face and clothing, but then I realized that his eyes held unshed tears. It completely caught me off guard, since his emotions were still shielded from me.

  “Mikael?” I questioned softly.

  He shook himself as if coming out of a dream. He laughed, but it came out more like a cough. “I had not considered what it might feel like to come back here,” he admitted.

  I glanced at Alaric, who watched Mikael suspiciously.

  “Um,” I began, not really sure what to say. “If you need a moment . . . ” I trailed off.

  I sincerely hoped that he didn't need a moment, because my teeth were chattering so furiously that I thought they might crack.

  “Every extra moment spent in the past is a moment wasted,” he announced, though the quiver in his voice betrayed the happy-go-lucky attitude he was trying to project.

 
I looked to Alaric again, who shook his head and looked back to the small village. His dark hair was loose and plastered to his back. I really hoped that the villagers didn't have mirrors, because I did not want to see what I looked like after our soggy, uncomfortable journey. If Alaric looked bad, I most definitely looked worse.

  Mikael finally walked forward without another word. He approached the longhouse like he owned the place, leaving his previous hesitation behind as if it had never existed to begin with.

  Not pausing to give us any instructions, he whipped aside the pelts that covered the door, then went inside. I looked to Alaric, who shrugged, then held the skins aside for me to enter.

  The warmth inside was a welcome relief. Several small fires lined the center of the longhouse, filtering smoke up through narrow holes in the roof. Rain dripped in through the holes, falling in a sizzling cacophony on the flames.

  Several women near the entrance looked up at us. They had all been doing needlework, aided by the light that emanated from what looked like little pots of oil with cotton wicks in them. Their copper needles paused mid-motion as they looked us up and down, then one stood and gave Mikael a toothy grin.

  The girl couldn't have been more than sixteen, with dark, curly hair held back in a mess of braids and leather clasps. She began speaking quickly in Old Norsk as she approached Mikael. Judging by her tone she was excited to see him, but the words were all beyond me.

  He gave the girl a sad smile, then spoke back to her. I recognized the name Erykah, and realized that he was asking the girl where his wife was. I was suddenly nervous to meet her, especially since I didn't know what terms she and Mikael were on in the current time.

  While Mikael spoke to the girl, the other women retreated further into the building, then returned to wrap animal pelts around mine and Alaric's shoulders.

  I liked being wrapped in the pelt even less than I liked wearing leather, but not wanting to insult anyone, I accepted the musty skin gratefully.

  Finally Mikael and the girl finished speaking, and she led us back out into the rain to slog through the mud.

  “Are they all Vaettir?” I whispered to Alaric as we followed Mikael and the girl to one of the smaller structures.