Foresworn

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Foresworn Page 11

by Rinda Elliott


  “If this is the real one,” he said. “The one Kara told me about was supposed to have three years of winter first. But if the giants and the elves are really here...”

  “Trust me, they are. The elves for sure.”

  “Then this is all happening now.” He lowered his voice. “I’m scared to death and I’m not afraid to admit it.”

  I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms. “So am I.”

  Voices filled the room as everyone started waking. Most got right up and started rolling up their sleeping bags, so I stood to do the same.

  “Hey, Kat?” Tyrone held his sleeping bag under his arm. “Do you hear the music now, too?”

  I nodded. I had to concentrate to do so here around the noise, but if I worked to block out everyone’s voices, that ethereal crescendo of music grew clear.

  Crescendo. Odd word to choose when I thought about the rune tempus message from the night before.

  Arun walked into the greenhouse and all my thoughts sort of stuttered. He looked good today despite the little sleep he’d had. He wore low-slung jeans that made his legs look really long and a thick black hoodie that made his dark eyes look nearly black and his blond hair even lighter. He looked around the room, his gaze landing and staying on me. His smile then made me catch my breath.

  “Hmm,” Tyrone said under his breath. “Never seen him look at anyone like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Kind of like he does the plants. That’s a compliment, by the way, since he loves those things like crazy. Like you’re more beautiful to him than all of them—that sort of thing. Just look at that dopey smile.”

  I nearly loosed a very unladylike snort, but I sniffed it back. “Yeah, right. I know what I look like in the morning.” And I did. I always looked like I’d been in a war while asleep. Even if I braided my hair before bed, it came undone and tangled into knots all over my head, and even if I tried to sleep on my back, I always turned over and ended up with huge sleep creases on my face. Coral kept warning me those were what turned to wrinkles, but short of tying myself onto my back in a bed, I didn’t know how to stop it.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Arun said as he stopped in front of me.

  Now I knew he was being facetious. So I glared at him.

  His grin grew wider and right there in front of everyone else, he leaned down and kissed me. On the mouth.

  It was short, but it still startled me because we weren’t alone.

  And apparently everyone else was surprised, too, because the greenhouse went silent.

  Arun didn’t look the least embarrassed. Instead, he handed my rolled sleeping bag to Tyrone and threaded our hands together. “Can you put that away for her? I want to show her something.”

  “Sure thing, fertility god.”

  He frowned at his friend, then rolled his eyes.

  My neck burned as I followed the laughing Arun to the pile of coats by the door. He dug mine out, turned and started putting it on me. “I’m not five,” I muttered, my cheeks joining the blush party.

  “Sorry. I’m in a hurry.” He dug around until he found my beanie and the huge gloves he’d strapped around my wrists yesterday. He stuffed the gloves in my pocket and chortled as he pulled the beanie over my head and tucked my hair back. “Your hair is crazy wild. I should have brought you a brush.”

  By the time he was done, my glare felt set in stone.

  He laughed all the way outside, but the warmth of his hand when he held mine lessened the sting a bit. He snatched his coat off the snowmobile parked right outside the door and only let go of my hand long enough to get his coat on. Then he started pulling me away from the sad greenhouse carcasses.

  “Where are we going?” I asked after we’d crossed half the field. “Shouldn’t we take the snowmobiles if we’re going into the woods? They might be the only way to outrun those elves.”

  “We’re not going far. I don’t think any of us should travel with less than four at this point.”

  “I hate to point this out, but there are only the two of us, and it looks like you’re dragging me into the forest.”

  He sighed heavily. “So impatient.”

  “Wish you’d let me brush my teeth first,” I mumbled.

  “You think I’m pulling you out here to make out?”

  “Um.” I choked, then coughed. “No, of course not.”

  He stopped, turned and put his finger over his lips in the universal “be quiet” sign. Then he walked slower toward the trees, still pulling me along with him. The snow today fell in light, barely-there flakes and there was actual sunlight breaking through the cloud cover—sunlight that sparkled on the snow. It made the place slightly cheery. That is, if you didn’t look back at the charred buildings behind us. I wondered at Arun’s good mood. I wouldn’t be so happy if I’d lost my home. But then I was used to losing mine.

  Or watching my mother take it down and put it into a bag.

  The rented house we’d been living in the past year had become a real home for my sisters and me, though, and the thought of losing it ripped into me. He had to be hurting.

  I squeezed his fingers in sympathy, and he stopped walking to lean down and kiss me again. This time, he let go of my hand and put the hand that was warm from our combined body heat against my cheek.

  Gods, this kiss made my toes curl and everything between my mouth and those toes go into overdrive. Then I remembered my morning breath and pulled back. I looked away so my breath would aim away from him. “I thought you said you didn’t bring me out here to make out.”

  “I actually didn’t say that.”

  I lifted an eyebrow, thought back. No, he hadn’t. Chuckling, I pushed my hand onto his chest and pushed, but he reached up to put his hand over mine. Then he used his other to pull me close again. “I don’t care about your morning breath, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

  “You think I want my first real kiss to be with night crud on my teeth? No, thank you.”

  “Night crud? You really know how to charm a guy.”

  I resented the heat that crawled up my cheeks then.

  “First real kiss?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “We’ve had a couple of kisses before now.”

  “Yeah, well, I can tell what kind of kiss that was leading toward.”

  He tightened his hands on me. “And you haven’t had one of those before?”

  I shook my head, embarrassed at having to admit that. I had been kissed—with actual tongue involved—before, but I hadn’t been willing. And though the boy hadn’t gotten any further, that one forced kiss, with my bathing-suited back up against the painful rough bark of a tree, had been so awful, I hadn’t tried to have another with anyone else.

  “Usually my—what was it you said—prickly nature keeps the kisses away,” I offered as an explanation.

  “Then you’ve obviously known a lot of wimps. You don’t scare me, Katriel Lockwood.”

  Gods. I didn’t know how to take him. “Did you really bring me all the way out here to kiss?”

  He shrugged. “Partially, yeah. But there is something I hoped to show you if it’s still there.”

  “Lead on, fertility god. Don’t think I’m forgetting that’s your god’s specialty. I’m on my guard.”

  His laugh this time was full out loud, his head going back.

  Warmth filled me, and I really, really wished I’d stored my toothbrush in my coat pocket.

  “Come on, beautiful. Gotta be quiet from now on.” He tilted his head toward the woods and held out his hand.

  And for a second, one horrible black second, I was thirteen and in the woods with that older boy. My muscles froze as I remembered how hard I’d fought to pull away from him, the horror I’d still felt when I’d hit him with a tree branch and saw the blood pouring out of his nose. He
sought me out after that and swore he hadn’t meant to scare me, but my norn had warned me he wasn’t serious.

  As Arun stood there with the sunlight sparkling on his light hair and that humor lighting his features, I knew without a doubt that he’d never do anything to make me scared. My norn agreed because she sent a stream of warmth through me. Arun held out his hand once again and this time, I threaded our fingers together.

  “Damn toothbrush,” I muttered, making him laugh again.

  Just then, something let out this loud, piercing scream.

  “Gods!” I yelled and hauled him to a stop. “We gotta go back.”

  “Hold on. It’s okay. This is what I brought you out here to see. They’ve never done this so close to our home before.”

  “Done what?” I frantically scanned the woods. “And who is they?”

  “The elk are going early into their rutting season.”

  “Wait.” I stopped him. “You brought me out here to maybe kiss and to see elk doing it?”

  “No.” This time, his laughter went on until I narrowed my eyes at him again and he finally choked to a stop.

  “You’re kind of a weirdo, aren’t you?” I grinned at him, couldn’t keep the glare going. Another sound came through the trees, this time starting out low, then rising in volume and intensity until it made me wince. “That’s coming from an animal?”

  “The bull is showing off to others, saying this is his territory. He’s bugling to attract females.”

  “Well, glad that works for him.” I winced again when the elk let loose with another horrific yell. “Screaming at me isn’t a way to get me interested. Just so you know.”

  “Noted.” He grabbed my coat, pulled me close and up on my toes to rub our noses together. “Come on—we can get a little closer.”

  Okay, the nose rub had made my stomach all fluttery, and this time, instead of getting mad about the weird feelings, I just sort of accepted them. I liked him. A lot. So I followed without another word, keeping quiet because if I was going to be honest, I didn’t want to scare the elk away before I got to see them. I’d only ever seen them in documentaries before.

  We walked slowly around a few snow-covered evergreens; then Arun abruptly stopped. He threw a frown in my direction, then waved me back around the fat tree we’d just circled. He took careful steps, obviously trying not to make any noise, so I did the same.

  He stopped and leaned down until his mouth was right by my ear. “There’s someone else out here.”

  Terror locked my knees in place as I thought about all those elves against just Arun and me. I forcefully pointed back the way we’d come, but Arun wasn’t watching me. His head was cocked to the side, his eyes shut, and then his expression went through a series of changes that ended in pain. When his eyes flew back open, grief and anger warred for dominance.

  I cupped his chin to direct his gaze back to me. “What?” I mouthed.

  “Listen,” he whispered.

  I heard the sound of my own heart as it worked to keep me warm and keep me going in this snow. I also heard the sound of the snow itself hitting the leaves, the ground...falling in clumps from the trees. In the background, still faint, I heard the music—like wind chimes made into voices. But I knew he heard something else, so I stood perfectly still and listened.

  “You stupid, stupid fool.”

  The woman’s voice came to me on the wind, muffled and low, and recognition hit me like a blow to the head. The faint hint of lavender in the air was my second clue. I started to run toward her, but Arun stopped me. He turned me to face him, placed his finger over his lips and mouthed, “Wait. Let’s listen.”

  I pulled him down so I could whisper into his ear. “But it’s my mother.”

  He pulled back fast, blinking at me, then shook his head. “That’s crazy,” he mouthed. Then he cocked his head again to listen.

  “Why did you set that fire?” my mother asked, louder this time. “What purpose did it serve?”

  “The supplies are mostly gone. It made them vulnerable. It was genius.”

  This time, I stopped Arun when he started to bolt forward. I didn’t even have to ask why. I recognized the voice even though I’d only met the boy the night before.

  Branton.

  The expression on Arun’s face tore into me. His shoulders slumped, and he shut his eyes briefly. When he opened them, they blazed with anger. His fierce expression sent an answering anger boiling through me. Even my norn responded. She moved and sort of slithered around.

  My mother spoke again. “No more fires, Sutter.”

  “Stop calling me that! I go by first name, not my middle.”

  “Idiot. You have to save your power for the last one. I’ve promised you’ll get your reward.”

  “The fire is my reward.”

  The sound of near ecstasy in Branton’s tone made me ill. I couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Arun. They’d grown up together. And it was pretty obvious Arun knew nothing about any power Branton had. Or his apparent psychotic love of fire. How had he masked all that—especially the power part because Arun could sense it?

  But right then, I needed to focus on my mother. Needed to know how the hell she’d gotten here so fast if she’d truly been in Oklahoma yesterday.

  The sound of an approaching snowmobile drowned out whatever my mother said next. And if I heard it, she did, too. Arun’s gaze locked with mine, and I knew he was thinking the same thing, so we both lurched around the tree and ran toward their voices. Then toward this loud sound of breaking glass. The cloying, nasty lavender scent grew stronger. We reached a clearing, and there were footprints everywhere but no people. I started to walk across, but Arun tugged on my hand.

  “Wait. Look.” He pointed to the edge of the clearing, then aimed his finger in a circle all the way around it. “The prints are only in the middle. How did they leave?”

  He was right. Shock held me in place as I looked back the way we’d come and saw only two sets of prints from Arun and me. They were perfectly clear—not smudged in the least as they would have been if we’d walked over another set. Plus, we would have run into them if they’d gone that direction. The snowmobile grew louder then quieter as it passed us.

  “That was Branton’s voice, wasn’t it?” I asked. “Though she called him Sutter.”

  His lips tightened as he nodded. “That was him. Apparently, he’s one of us and I hadn’t even known it. All these years. Maybe he didn’t know until now.”

  I kind of doubted that.

  His half smile was rueful. “Yeah, I can tell you don’t believe that. Neither do I. And you’re sure that was your mother’s voice?”

  “Positive.” I looked around again. “Do you smell the flowery odor?”

  He nodded.

  “My mother mixes lavender into her spells because she thinks it masks the other odors that would give her away. It’s dumb, but she always uses it. So that was her. I don’t get how they disappeared. My mother is nothing but an Earth witch. She can do spells, but she can’t make herself disappear and certainly couldn’t make herself and Branton disappear.”

  “She said my friend started the fire. You heard that, right?”

  I nodded. “I also heard her say he needed to save his power for the last one. Gods, Arun, I think I know who he’s carrying.”

  The devastation on Arun’s face made my heart hurt, and I stepped close to him, stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  He went stiff, probably surprised at me offering affection first, but then his arms came around me and he buried his nose in some of my loose hair under the beanie. He was shaking and the emotions pouring off him made me tighten my arms. Devastation and sadness, yes. Disappointment for sure. But the fury was something else. It felt like it burned the air around us.

  “I know exact
ly who he’s carrying,” Arun said against my neck. “Surt.”

  His best friend had spent all these years hiding because if he had power already, he had to know what he was. His best friend had set the fires that destroyed his home and years of work and all that plant life. And his best friend was going to try to kill him.

  In the stories about Ragnarok, Freyr fights the fire giant Surt and dies.

  Chapter Eight

  We walked back to what was left of the compound hand in hand. I’d started to let go only to sense that Arun needed my touch. Maybe he needed anyone’s touch at this point, but I was happy to give it. And knowing the grief he had to be feeling right then ripped me up. The loss of the greenhouses and his home was bad enough, but Arun struck me as someone who cared more about people than he did things. To learn that his best friend had been lying and pretending all this time had probably put him past his limit of upset.

  And I could not figure out this thing with my mother. Just trying to understand how she could be in Oklahoma one day and Wyoming the next had me feeling jittery and confused.

  Keeping busy that morning helped. Everyone pitched in to continue going through what had survived the fire. We were down to the wire now that we knew giants and elves were already on their way to Yellowstone. Arun’s mother called around town to see who still had camping gear left and hit pay dirt when a friend of hers who worked at a supermarket said he’d put stuff back for them when he’d heard about the fire.

  Brigg and Nanna offered to go with us to get the supplies, and they climbed into the backseat of the truck Arun decided would work best. For some reason, he put an extra backpack inside and even tossed one into the back of my Jeep, too. “Better to be prepared later if we use yours,” he muttered as he started the truck.

  I kept my gaze out of the passenger window as we drove through Cody. We passed a Conoco with a line of cars wrapping the building. Got stuck because some of the cars were stopped on the road, the drivers waiting to turn in.

  My chest hurt today, and I didn’t know if it was from the cold or if I’d inhaled too much of that suspended smoke the night before.

 

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