Shoots and Tatters
Book Five of the Bitter Ashes Series
Sara C Roethle
Vulture’s Eye Publications
Copyright © 2017 by Sara C Roethle
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
1
My eyes were glued to the television screen as I sipped my morning coffee, then rested the warm mug on top of my sweater-clad pregnant belly. I’d guiltily given in to the concept that since I was Vaettir, I could have all the coffee I wanted during pregnancy. Alaric sat beside me, dressed in a black tee-shirt and jeans, as enraptured with the news as I.
It had been two full months since I’d regrown Yggdrasil, the World Tree, and we still didn’t know what to expect next.
The reporter on screen glanced at the destroyed building behind her. It had been completely overtaken by nature, which wasn’t an odd occurrence, except that it had happened in the middle of the night, in downtown San Francisco.
This was only the latest in a slew of strange happenings since Yggdrasil had started leaking magic into the earth. Unfortunately, the humans had no idea why such strange things were happening. The most common theory was the apocalypse, though many others existed: aliens, bio-warfare, contamination from nuclear power plants . . . the list went on and on. There were even a few individuals who’d guessed correctly, that the old gods were preparing to return, making myth reality.
Now, we hadn’t actually seen any gods yet, but we were pretty sure they were still coming, and we had no idea what we’d do when they did. Not long after we’d regrown Yggdrasil, I’d released the banshees from service. Part of me had wanted to keep them, but it wasn’t fair to the tortured souls. Now that the gods’ return seemed imminent, it would have been nice to have the extra protection, but I’d just have to rely on the Vaettir alone.
Alaric took my free hand and gave it a squeeze, drawing my attention away from the television as it flashed on more strange scenes.
I met his dark eyes, framed by his long black hair cascading down his chest. “I wish the old gods would hurry up and appear,” I sighed. “I’d like to know whether or not they intend to kill me.”
He took my coffee cup from my hand and set it on the low table in front of the couch, then grasped both my hands in his. “Whatever they intend, we’ll be prepared.”
I frowned, glancing around at the rest of the cozy living room, anything to not meet his eyes, lest he detect the fear lurking within my heart.
“I don’t think the gods will have any issues reaching us in a simple house near the forest,” my frown deepened, “no matter how many Vaettir stand in their way.”
We’d moved shop not long after Yggdrasil had been regrown to be closer to it. While I preferred my hometown of Spokane, we’d found a nicely remote house halfway between Hilsboro and the desolate beach where Yggdrasil stood. We had plenty of tree-covered land to shield the less human-looking Vaettir, like Kira and Sivi, from the outside world.
Alaric’s hand touched my chin, drawing my face back toward his. “They have no more reason to harm you than they do any of the other Vaettir. Try not to worry.”
I shook my head, causing my long braid to slink behind my shoulder. “You know that doesn’t make me feel any better. I don’t want you to die either.”
I looked down at my belly. I didn’t want any of us to die. I didn’t know what it meant for my child that I wasn’t really human, nor was I truly Vaettir. Or maybe I was Vaettir, but filled with pure earth and death energy. At least, that was the conclusion Mikael had drawn. We didn’t know who or what had brought me into being. Could someone unlikely to have been born in the traditional sense give birth to a normal baby, or would my child be just like me?
Alaric patted my knee, then stood. “Let’s find Mikael,” he suggested. “I know he has Doyen duties to discuss with you.”
I smiled as I took his offered hand, struggling to my feet. That he was suggesting we find his arch nemesis meant he really wanted to take my mind off things. If it was up to Alaric, Mikael and I wouldn’t be working, nor living, together at all, but I’d come to trust Mikael more than most, so I was happy with the arrangement.
We left the living room, heading into the adjoining hall, then eventually the massive kitchen, done all in clean white and chrome. At the large dining table sat a few late breakfast eaters: Alejandro, Sophie, and Frode. With so many of us on different schedules living in one building, there was almost always someone sitting at the dining table. I was just glad this time it was three people I actually liked.
I glanced at each of them. Frode and Alejandro were like two sides of the same coin, both tall and muscular, but the former had pale skin and nearly white hair, while Alejandro’s skin was a perfect bronze, complemented by hair as black as Alaric and Sophie’s.
“Has anyone seen Mikael?” I questioned.
Alejandro and Frode both glanced at each other, their expressions hesitant.
“What is it?” I sighed. “You know I can sense your tension, right?”
Alejandro rolled his eyes. “Empaths are annoying.”
“Out with it,” I demanded.
Sophie sighed, flicking her straight, glistening hair over her shoulder. Something had happened in her blossoming relationship with Aila that had made her a total pill lately. “He’s at the World Tree with Silver,” she said matter-of-factly.
“What!” I exclaimed. Silver was Mikael’s long-time associate, and had run Mikael’s affairs in the states long before we arrived. I turned my gaze to Alaric at my side. “Did you know about this?”
He let my hand drop and crossed his arms. “If I had known, would I have suggested we find him?”
“Good point,” I conceded, turning back to Sophie, Alejandro, and Frode, the latter of whom now seemed entirely focused on his food, his thick, white blond hair falling forward to obscure his strong, Scandinavian features.
“How long ago did he leave?” I asked the trio.
Alejandro shrugged, flexing the muscles in his bare shoulders beneath his white tank top. “About thirty minutes, give or take, but we can’t let you go after him.”
I tugged up my too-loose maternity jeans, then crossed my arms above my round belly. “Oh? And how are you going to stop me?”
Alejandro smirked. “Don’t make me wrestle a pregnant woman.”
“You’ll have to go through me first,” Alaric purred, moving to stand a few paces ahead of me.
“And me,” Sophie added, casually scraping her fork across her plate.
Alejandro and Frode simultaneously turned to Sophie. “But you agreed to keep her here,” Frode balked.
She smirked. “Just like I agreed not to tell her where Mikael went. Really, it’s astounding how dense you all are. I’ll always side with my brother and the mother of my soon-to-be niece.”
Alejandro and Frode both scowled at her.
“Well now that that’s settled,” I concluded, turning to Alaric, “Shall we?”
He nodded, then flicked his gaze to Sophie.
She shook her head.
“Don’t look at me, the World Tree gives me the creeps.”
I shrugged. “Fair enough.”
I took Alaric’s hand and turned to go, while Alejandro and Frode muttered behind us about how much it sucked to have me as a co-Doyen with Mikael.
In truth, I knew they were alright with me assuming the role. They were smartasses, but genuinely good hearted enough for me to consider them friends. I couldn’t blame them for being a little upset that Mikael would put them in a tough spot with me.
Our hands still joined, Alaric and I walked past the closed front door, continuing straight toward the six car garage.
Alaric held the interior door open for me while I reached in and hit the lights, then stepped inside to retrieve my keys from the hook on the wall.
The keys belonged to a four-door, silver Ford F150, not really my first choice in vehicles, but the four-wheel drive came in handy on the long, often muddy driveway.
Alaric went around to the passenger seat while I climbed into the driver’s side, using the interior handle for leverage as I labored myself into place. I’d gotten used to not driving myself around for the most part, but when it was just Alaric and I, I drove. He was capable, but since he’d lived most of his life in the various Salr, sanctuaries of the Vaettir, he hadn’t needed to drive frequently enough for it to become a habit.
I pushed the garage door button fastened to my sunshade, waited as it opened, then backed out and we were on our way, too late for Alejandro and Frode to change their minds and try to stop us.
Once we were halfway down the muddy driveway, surrounded by tall fir trees obscuring the murky sky, I finally asked, “What do you think they’re doing at the World Tree?”
Alaric shook his head, his silky black hair nearly shimmering. Silky like a cat’s pelt, which made sense since Bastet was the goddess from whom he descended.
“Trying to figure out why the gods haven’t plunged down to punish us all?” he questioned.
I nodded, having come to the same conclusion. “I can’t believe Mikael went without me,” I muttered, slowing the truck to avoid a deep rut in the road. “This matter concerns me more than most. I should have at least been informed.”
Alaric sighed. “Mikael may be a scoundrel, but he does care about your well-being. I’m sure he’s only trying to protect you.”
I scowled. “I’m a big girl.”
He chuckled, glancing at my belly. “Yes, you are.”
I sighed, keeping my eyes on the drive. “You’re incorrigible.”
I turned the truck off the driveway and onto the paved street, sparsely lined with other enormous houses, and a few farmsteads. Eventually the road ended with a turn, then another onto a small highway that would lead us to the place where Yggdrasil had taken root. Normally, a giant, golden-branched tree in the middle of a desolate beach would seem out of place, but it was a magical tree perceivable only to magical folk . . . at least for now.
With magic leaking into the mundane lives of humans at an alarming rate, it was only a matter of time before someone was affected by enough magic to be able to see the tree. We hoped to have everything sorted out with the gods well before that point.
Alaric reached across the center console to place his hand on my thigh, a familiar, comforting touch.
Even though I was terrified of what the gods might do, that simple touch brought me peace. We would defy the odds together, just like we’d been doing from the start. Not the gods, mischievous Vikings, nor the hoard of Vaettir under our command would stop us.
It took us twenty minutes to reach the beach where Yggdrasil had sprouted, and since Mikael and Silver had left thirty minutes prior, it meant they’d had our entire drive plus some to cause trouble.
Having driven on a narrow forest road right up to the edge of the beach, I parked the truck and stepped out, with Alaric mirroring me on the other side.
“There they are,” he pointed as he reached my side.
In the distance I could see the tall, golden branches of Yggdrasil, reaching endlessly up toward the cloudy sky, and below them, the forms of two men. I couldn’t see their features from such a far distance, but I could recognize Mikael by his height, roughly 6’5” and his long, rich, auburn hair, and Silver, just a few inches shorter, with short black hair shiny with gel.
I took a moment to sense our surroundings, then shuddered. “I feel magic.”
Alaric glanced at me, then back toward the men on the beach. “Is that so unusual this close to the World Tree?”
I shook my head. The sound of the nearby ocean seemed overly loud to my ears. “No, but I sense more of it. We need to get down there and see what they’re up to.”
Alaric nodded. “Shall I run ahead?”
“Yes,” I decided, my gut clenched tight with worry.
Unfortunately, I was human slow on a good day, and with my ever growing belly, I was even slower. Alaric would be able to reach them in seconds.
He gave my shoulder a squeeze, then took off ahead of me, his black jeans and tee-shirt turning him into a dark blur bounding across the beach.
I waddled after him, far less graceful. I couldn’t help but be grateful no one was left behind to watch.
I kept my eyes on my footing, glancing up every so often until Alaric reached them. The chill wind rolling in from the ocean pushed tendrils of my long hair back from my slightly sweaty face. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, trying to quiet my breathing enough to pick up hints of conversation carried across the wind. I could hear the murmur of male voices, but was still too far to decipher what they were saying over the gentle crash of the tide.
I continued waddling, kicking up sand with each step. I could feel the magic increasing, seeming to stem from Yggdrasil. It wasn’t like this the last time we’d visited. Mikael and Silver had done . . . something.
I was close enough to catch a few words of heated conversation when Alaric turned in my direction.
“Go back!” he shouted.
I stopped for a moment, perplexed, then continued walking forward.
Mikael turned as I neared them. “Madeline, go back right this instant,” he demanded.
“Like hell!” I snapped. “I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me why this beach feels like it’s about to explode with magic.”
As soon as I reached them, Alaric put his hands on my shoulders, attempting to drive me back in the direction I’d gone.
“They’re trying to summon one of the gods,” Alaric explained as he gently pulled me away. “And it seems to be working.”
I stepped out of his reach. “Why would you summon them without me?” I demanded, staring Mikael down.
Silver continued to gaze up at the tree, his chiseled features and hooded eyes slack. “Something is coming,” he muttered.
With a huff of exasperation, Alaric lifted me into his arms like a child. He started to turn away, then the tree began to glow with golden light, just like it had when it first took root.
“Huh,” Mikael observed. “It’s actually working.”
The building magic suddenly climaxed, and a burst of light appeared at the tip of one branch, then shot rapidly down the tree. Once it reached the base, a male figure began to form.
Mikael glanced back at me, concerned, though he couldn’t blame me for not running away, as it was Alaric’s feet that stood still.
We all turned back to the golden light figure as it solidified into a man. He stepped forward out of the glare. Long red hair, several shades brighter than Mikael’s, trailed over his shoulders. His clothing was reminiscent of what we’d worn when we traveled back in time to meet with Vikings, only far finer. His blue linen tunic was embroidered with elaborate golden designs, and his black pants and boots appeared finely crafted by hand.
“Dolos?” Mikael questioned.
The man, handsome in a lanky, angular sort of way, smirked. “Hardly.” He glanced around at each of us, his gaze settling on me, still cradled in Alaric’s arms. “Well aren’t you an odd
sight,” he mused, taking a step forward. “Like a little ball of brilliant death light.”
“Brilliant death light?” I questioned, my jaw going slack.
“Who are you?” Alaric asked from above me.
The man bowed with a sarcastic flourish, then straightened. “My apologies, it’s been quite some time since I set foot on Earth. You may call me Loki.”
“Holy shit,” Alaric gasped.
Loki raised an eyebrow at me. “Not the most eloquent man in the world, is he?”
I found myself without words. Meeting the Morrigan was one thing. Facing down Loki, Norse god of mischief, was quite another.
Holy shit indeed.
2
“How did this happen?” Mikael questioned. “None of us are descended from you.”
“And who are you descended from?” Loki asked smugly.
“Dolos,” Mikael replied.
Loki kept his eyes on me as he answered, “Same energy,” he gestured down at his lanky body, “different incarnation.”
I tapped Alaric’s arm. “Care to let me stand?” I whispered.
Still seemingly stunned, he obeyed. He’d been willing to cart me away from a glowing tree, but carting me away from a god was probably a bad idea. Didn’t want to piss off the ancient, omnipotent being.
“I think it’s like with the Morrigan and Hecate,” I explained hesitantly, giving Loki a wide berth to approach Mikael. Loki slowly turned to keep his eyes on me, a smirk lifting the corner of his thin lips. “They were entirely different women,” I continued, “but their energies are similar, just like—”
Lightning fast, Mikael shot behind me and sealed his hand over my mouth. After a second of being pissed, I realized why he’d taken such action. I’d almost admitted to a god that I wasn’t like other Vaettir, by admitting I was inhabited by the same energy that created the Morrigan.
Shoots and Tatters Page 1