Verena's Whistle: Varangian Descendants Book I

by K. Panikian

  My heartbeat echoed in my ears as I ran, following Owen’s footsteps as best I could. I pulled my sword; Owen pulled his long knife.

  Finally, we started to pass the blown-down trees and I knew we were close. I slowed.

  Astrid nocked an arrow and Julian and Cato drew their swords. In the crater below us, two more psoglav paced with a chained azhdaya. The portal was open; I could see it shimmering in the twilight gloom.

  As we watched, two bauks stepped through.

  “We can’t let any more through,” I said. “Owen, can you take the bauks?”

  He nodded and sheathed his knife. He strode down the slope into the crater, swinging his longsword with both hands on the grip. He didn’t transform, but he looked menacing nonetheless. The bauks glared at him and started forward.

  “Astrid, start shooting the psoglavs. Julian and Cato, you’ve got the azhdaya. I’ll control its fire.”

  Everyone burst into motion. I could hear Astrid’s bow twanging beside me and the psoglavs were quickly bristling with arrows. They dropped the azhdaya’s chains and it lunged at Julian, snapping its two sets of teeth.

  Julian slashed his sword at one head and when the other reared back to belch a jet of fire at him, I whistled it to the side. It hit one of the psoglavs instead. The head that fired twisted to look at me and Cato darted forward from invisibility, hacking at its neck. His blade connected and the neck flopped, broken and bleeding.

  The remaining head shot fire out in a long blast, aiming to sweep across both men. I whistled it again and pulled the spark away. When the fire died out of its mouth, Julian chopped off that head as well.

  I checked on Owen and the bauks and saw he had killed one and was swinging away at the other. He was still a man, not a berserker. His slashes made short work of the last ogre and in a moment, he was standing easily, panting slightly, with two hairy bodies by his feet. He saluted me with his bloody sword.

  I climbed down into the crater with Astrid at my side and in the center, next to the gate, I dug through the snow to the bare earth.

  Just then, Rurik, Theo, and Bard staggered into the clearing as well. Theo looked a little singed but I didn’t see any blood. “Okay?” I asked and he waved at me.

  “Astrid, get ready.”

  I placed my hand on the ground and sent out a subsonic whistle. I started building my pulse as quickly as I could, reaching down deeper with every whistle. I stretched the tune lower and pulsed again. I wanted a deeper spark than the one that danced for the avalanche. There, I found it. I pulled the spark to the surface with my vibrant tone. The spark glowed for me, swirling.

  I changed my whistle. I made it echo, an endless loop, growing louder and louder. The spark flung itself from my fingertips and swayed under the earth, a pendulum reaching deeper and higher, deeper and higher. I could feel the ground start to tremble.

  I needed more. I whistled higher, and the sound built to a crescendo. The spark split in half and the ground shook hard. I saw my friends stumble and fall to the ground.

  “Rurik, now or never!” I shouted.

  He staggered for the gate and stepped through, vanishing from sight. Bard stood like he was going to follow, but hesitated.

  With a final, tremendous blast, I whistled the earth open. A crack split the center of the crater and I felt Astrid catch us in her air bubble. The ground below us fell away, and the sides of the crater collapsed, falling deep into the abyss. The crater became the center of a swirling maelstrom of dirt, trees, rocks, and other debris; all were sucked down into the hole, vanishing from sight.

  The cracks from the earthquake spread outward, reaching like fingers for the trees and the snow-covered ground around the clearing.

  Astrid’s shield exploded, launching us out of the abyss and onto its crumbling edge. We scrambled back but the ground was still shaking.

  I stretched out as flat as I could and whistled again. My spark, that had become two, was now myriad. Under the earth, hundreds of gold sparks twirled. I whistled to them in a low tone, making my tune melodic but slow. I soothed.

  The ground around me was still crumbling into the chasm. I felt Owen pull me away from the new edge, but I kept whistling.

  Finally, it seemed like the sparks were slowing. I reached out with my subsonic tone again and pushed them deeper; they started to coalesce. Faint and undulating, my tone sent them lower and lower still. The ground stopped. I whistled one last tremulous vibration and saw the last remaining spark wink at me. Then I let go.

  I rolled over, exhausted. “Everyone okay?” I asked.

  THE crater was gone. Now, stretching where it used to be, was a fissure a handful of feet deep. The chasm closed up at the end of the earthquake, entombing the crater, and presumably, the portal, deep under the ground.

  I hope that Rurik was okay on the other side. Bard still looked shellshocked by the whole thing.

  “Now what?” Cato asked.

  I looked around at everyone. They looked back at me expectantly. I opened my mouth when, suddenly, a snowy white owl dropped out of the tree next to me and turned into Mesyats. I let out an involuntary gasp, startled and then turned it into a cough.

  He looked the same as before, a teenager with white hair. He grinned at me, “You did it! I liked the earthquake. Very daring.”

  “Lord Mesyats, is my father okay?” Astrid asked.

  “The earthquake stayed on this side of the portal. You can still open the gate from the other side, but as it opens into solid earth several thousands of feet below us, no one will be coming through any time soon.”

  He stepped back, bowed, and then added, “Thank you for your service.” He started to vanish and then winked at Astrid, “See you soon!” She looked bewildered.

  Julian asked, in an irritated tone, “Now what does that mean?”

  Chapter 33

  Miraculously, the snow machines were still there beside the trail when we walked out of the woods. We took turns riding and walking down the ski trail. Cato was a big fan, but Astrid and Bard preferred to walk. When we finally roared out of the woods, we found Zasha waiting for us at the chalet.

  She ran toward us and tackled Theo off the back of his sled, knocking him into the snow. He winced but let her lay on top off him, grinning up at her while she kissed him all over his face.

  When she finally stood, her face was pink but she hugged me next.

  “I knew you were okay,” she said. “Your Uncle Alex has been calling me. But when I felt the earthquake, I was worried.”

  She gave Julian a hug too, missing the suspicious look Astrid threw at her.

  I introduced the three Varangians and we trooped into the house. The relief I felt when I pulled off my boots and other winter layers was indescribable.

  Zasha had dinner cooking, beef stroganoff, and enough for everyone. Uncle Alex must have been pretty specific in his vision.

  It smelled heavenly. The carpet under my toes felt soft. The weight off my shoulders felt exquisite.

  I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do first, eat or take a shower. I decided to eat. Theo led Bard and Cato down the hall and showed them the two bathrooms and how to use them. He got them spare clothes and towels and then came back to the kitchen.

  He put his arm around Zasha and they murmured to each other by the stove. Owen and I got out plates and forks and Astrid walked around the living room with Julian while he showed her how to turn on the TV. He plugged in his phone and then called the farmhouse quickly, reporting that we were all home and the portal was shut.

  I could hear the loud questions and exclamations over the phone all the way from the kitchen, but Julian just smiled, listening for a long moment, and then told them he had to go but he’d call back later.

  Finally, everyone had eaten and showered and we were sitting in the living room. I had a beer in my hand and a cookie on the table by my foot. I saw some glassy eyes.

  Someone knocked on the door and Owen went to check. He came back into the room with Dmitri, who smi
led and waved all around.

  “Hello, hello!” he said. “I can only stay for a minute. I just wanted to say that you don’t need to worry about the bodies you have left all over my mountains. I will take care of them.”

  I felt grateful. I hadn’t been sure how to deal with that situation, especially in the avalanche valley.

  I thanked him and he waved me off.

  “Now I go. I will see you again, I think.” With that, he went back out the door.

  “That’s twice now,” Julian muttered.

  “I forgot!” Zasha exclaimed and jumped to her feet. She ran out of the room and came back with a box covered in postage. “This came for you,” she said.

  I looked at the return address. “It’s from Uncle Alex.” I opened it and inside were three sets of U.S. passports, birth certificates, and Social Security cards. There was a note too. It said, “Called in a favor. Can’t wait to meet your friends. Love, Uncle Alex.”

  I read the names on the IDs: Astrid Rurikson, Bard Rurikson, and Cato Rurikson. I explained to the Varangians that these papers made it possible for them to go home with us, or anywhere else in the world they wanted.

  “I would like you to come to Alaska. I would like you to meet my family and we can help you decide what you want to do. With these papers, you can go to school; you can get a job; you can be a part of society.”

  The three of them bent their heads together and then Bard said they would go with us.

  I smiled at them, pleased. Uncle Alex was going to go nuts, asking them all about things at the citadel, I knew.

  Julian started explaining U.S. geography, plus its political system, including drawing a chart on a pad of paper. When Astrid’s eyes started to glaze, I pulled her up.

  I showed Bard and Cato how to set up the fold-out couch in the living room, and then led Astrid down to the empty bedroom. I showed her how to turn her lamp on and off and left her happily making a nest of pillows and soft blankets.

  On my way out of her room, she grabbed my hand, “Thanks,” she said. “I know what you promised my father, but I don’t want you to feel obligated for us. I know I haven’t been warm to you. To any of you.”

  I stopped her. “Everyone gets a second chance. I’m looking forward to helping you. I want to be your friend.”

  She smiled at me and I shut the door.

  ONCE Owen and I were finally alone together, I tackled him onto the bed.

  “Wait, I want to talk to you,” he protested, laughing.

  “Later,” I said.

  He sat up on his elbows, his long body taking over the bed. I climbed off again and locked the door. Then I slowly sauntered back over and fiddled with the bottom of my shirt. Owen’s eyes devoured me. I sensually tugged the shirt over my head and then, with my arms still in the air, twirled and untied my hair so that it spilled down my back in a dark wave. I looked back at him over my shoulder. When I started to reach for the waistband of my pants, Owen sat up hurriedly and whipped off his own shirt, then his pants.

  I stared at the muscular planes of his golden chest and bit my lip. Where to start...

  “Very, you’re killing me,” Owen groaned from the bed.

  I grinned at him and drifted a little closer, stepping out of my pants, and then I was standing at the foot of the bed in just my bra and panties. In a lightning-fast move, Owen lunged forward and seized me, pulling me on top of him on the bed.

  “Much better,” he said as he trailed his fingers up my spine, his hand cupping my backside.

  “Yes,” I agreed breathlessly.

  MUCH later, snuggled against his chest, I asked him why he didn’t transform to fight the bauks.

  He rubbed my head with his knuckles and said, “I should have known you’d want to talk about work stuff, not fun stuff.”

  “Work stuff?” I asked, laughing.

  “I wasn’t sure how long it would be until I could change back. I didn’t want to be an unconscious body for you to lug around if we were fleeing an earthquake. I fought the other bauks as the wolf, so I felt like I knew their capabilities and I could handle it.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re not comatose right now,” I said. “So, good choice.”

  “Are you ready to talk about other stuff now?” he asked.

  Was I ready? I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say. His life was in Canada. He was about to start college and, with a military scholarship, he wouldn’t be able to transfer anywhere near me. My life was in Anchorage. I had only one semester left in my master’s program. Did I want to try and see him long distance and then move to Canada? Did I want to ask him to leave school and come back with me? Of course, I did. But that wasn’t fair.

  I loved him and incredibly, he said he loved me. But we met in extreme circumstances. Maybe, in the real world, we wouldn’t have anything in common.

  “What’s your favorite kind of music?” I asked.

  “Country,” he answered.

  “Oh no,” I moaned. “We have nothing in common!”

  He stroked my back with his gentle fingers. “We’re stubborn, we’re loyal—” he paused, “—we’re incredibly good-looking.”

  I smiled at him but I said out loud, “I’ve heard relationships based on intense experiences never work.”

  “What?” he said back. “You’re quoting at me from the movie, Speed?”

  “It seemed appropriate,” I said back lamely.

  “Is that what you really think?” he asked.

  Gah. He was going to make me say it. I rolled over so we were face to face and I traced my fingertip across his full, soft lips. I met his beautiful, brown eyes with mine and said, “No.”

  “Good,” he said. “Because it’s not what I think either.”

  I smiled at him. “I’m in love with you. I want to be with you.” I felt relief that I’d said it. “You’ve been my rock through this whole thing. I don’t want to go anywhere now, where you’re not.”

  He bent his head and kissed me gently. “I’ve thought about this. This isn’t some chemical combination of adrenaline and lust. I’m in love with you. You occupy my every waking thought. I want to be with you today, tomorrow, a year from now, a hundred years from now.” He paused to press his lips to mine again, this time harder. I arched under him.

  “I want to be with you whether we’re working boring jobs and living in the suburbs or traveling around the world hunting down magical creatures. You’re it for me.”

  “I feel the same,” I said back, my heart pounding in my chest. “We’ll figure the logistics out later. I want to be where you are.”

  He continued to kiss me, his tongue making my insides swirl. “I think this calls for a celebration,” he murmured and then we got very, very busy celebrating.

  Epilogue

  Lord Abaddon was angry. Steam billowed from his nostrils and his hooves scraped the earth. Behind him, ranks and ranks of besy waited. Muted roars echoed and he heard aggressive hisses and the rustling sound of scales scraping. They were impatient and it took all of his magic to hold them in line.

  They were lined up, row on row, in the forest. His psoglav scouts had gone ahead to find Orus and the camp in the other world. His commanders knew their orders. Chernobog himself blessed them in his black fire. They would march through this gate and then, a whole world without magical defenses would be theirs. No more Greek fire to decimate his ambitions.

  The thought filled him with delicious urges.

  Then, this balachko came back from the front line, and now everything was in disarray.

  “Repeat yourself,” he bellowed.

  At his feet the balachko knelt, his blue-gray skin paling, “It’s blocked. We can’t get through.”

  “Blocked,” he mused. “With magic?”

  “No, sire. With earth and rock. It appears that the gate is now underground.”

  “Underground. There must have been an earth elemental on the other side. Impossible!”

  Lord Abaddon felt a moment of hesitation in hi
s god’s plan but quelled the thought. Chernobog was quick to punish doubt. This must be surmountable. He would find a way. His god had sworn it.

  “Sire?” the balachko asked.

  “If this gate is closed, we will find another. Give the order to march.”

  Bonus: When Owen Met Very

  Owen climbed out of the Uber and grabbed his duffel from the trunk. He and Julian had flown from Paris to Moscow, then Moscow to Chelyabinsk, and then taken the train from Chelyabinsk to Zlatoust, where they caught an Uber. His feet were swollen, his head hurt, and his mouth tasted like a dead moth.

  Julian waved the Uber driver away and then led the way up the driveway to the chalet where his cousins were staying. Owen eyed the impressive house and wondered, not for the first time, what he was getting himself into. His father was adamant that this family was his too, and would want his help. But nothing he’d seen so far made Owen think this was actually true.

  Julian knocked on the door and Owen heard a couple of thumps inside before the door opened and his heart stopped.

  A woman stood there with vivid blue eyes, dark, glossy hair, and clear, pale skin. Her lips were pink and her cheeks flushed under his intense gaze. She was tall and slim and moved gracefully like an athlete; Owen didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful person.

  She said something. Her voice echoed in his head, then his heart.

  Her bottomless eyes assessed him and Owen knew that she saw everything he was and everything he could be. He stood straighter.

  He followed her into the house and knew he would follow her forever.

  About The Author

  K. Panikian

  K. Panikian lives in Massachusetts with her partner and three children. Aside from writing, Katie enjoys golf and snowboarding.

  Check out her Instagram page at k.panikianthewriter for information on upcoming books! Next up in this series will be Astrid’s story.