by J. J. Neeson
“She?”
“I had a vision of a woman before I… teleported?” She wasn’t sure of the correct verb to use. “I think she’s the one who makes the Othala rune appear.”
“It’s possible you sent yourself here,” Kaylock informed her. “Visions are quite meditative states. We can access our inherent powers more easily during one. Knowledge is an attractive force. Perhaps upon seeing the woman, you desired to know more, and so your subconscious sent you here.”
“Teleportation can’t work on twisty fries, can it?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know why you ask?”
“Probably not.”
“Tell me more about this woman,” he queried. “Perhaps I can help you find the information you’re looking for.”
Reigh thought of the encyclopedia sitting on her bed. “I think you already have,” she said. “Can I borrow your phone?”
Kaylock obliged, pulling the phone from his pocket. “Here.”
“Thanks,” she said, and she called Thorston.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“You drunk?”
“I will be soon.”
“Set the bourbon down. I need you to go to the shack and bring me the Norse encyclopedia, the one I was reading from the other night.”
“I thought you were already at the shack with Lu.”
“I was. And then I was here—at the library.”
“Gotcha.” He sounded amused. “I’ll be there soon.”
Next, she sent a text to Lu.
It’s Reigh. At library. Going to stay here a while. Thorston on his way with encyclopedia. Thank you for the lesson.
Lu texted back seconds later.
I figured. Poor Kaylock. He needs a catcher’s mitt. Heading to the garage if you need me.
“So you and Thorston seem to be getting quite close,” Kaylock observed when Reigh handed him back his phone.
“Just friends. You talk to Tallie yet?”
“Just friends,” Kaylock said as they headed out into the corridor. He locked the door to the room behind them. “Meaning no, I haven’t.”
She didn’t press him on the issue, her mind occupied with the woman she’d seen. Had she been an ancestor? With her honey-colored hair and fair complexion, she looked Norse, but nothing like anyone in her family, though Reigh didn’t have much to go on. Just her mom, really, and two photos of her grandparents.
They walked up a set of stairs and through an arched doorway at the top, beyond which was the main floor of the library. Reigh waited for Thorston near the front desk while Kaylock returned to his librarian duties. It wasn’t long before she heard a motorcycle roar to a stop outside.
“Don’t bikes have silencers these days?” she quipped when he stepped inside.
“Not as fun,” he said, dropping the heavy book into her arms. “Where do we start?”
“You gonna play ancient history detective with me?”
“Might as well. The library has air conditioning.”
“You could always stick your head in the mini-fridge,” she suggested as they made their way to a back table.
“I would if there was any beer in it. After this, remind me to make a run.”
“Gladly. It’s about time you started contributing your share of the booze.”
“Yeah, I know. I also owe you for the cola at the biker rally the other night.”
Reigh stopped in her tracks. “I didn’t pay,” she told him, hugging the book.
“Neither did I.”
“Oops.” She continued on until she reached an empty table, where she set the book down.
“My fault,” Thorston said. “My head wasn’t in the right place. I didn’t expect you to pay. I just forgot to do so myself.”
“We can pay double at the next rally.”
“The next rally?” He grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re going to go piercing your tongue, because I might like it.”
“You wish,” she fired back.
“Anyway, don’t worry about it. I don’t believe in karma, but if I did, trust me, much greater sins were committed that night than a stolen drink or two. I’d say the field still reeks of alcohol, pills, and mistresses.”
“Ugh,” Reigh said. “Been there, done that. Maybe we should stick to the whole rogue rider thing.”
“Maybe we should.”
Standing close to her, Thorston opened the book at random. Reigh didn’t have time to read the text before the creepy wind ghost flipped the pages to the story of Freyr and Gerd.
“Just like before.”
Thorston studied the page. “Is it at all related to what you’re looking for?”
“That’s the problem—I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to have any relevance to the rune, and it’s impossible for me to know if the woman I saw in my vision is connected to the story or not.”
“Your vision?”
Reigh quickly filled him in. “Do you think the woman was Gerd?”
“It’s doubtful,” Thorston speculated. “Gerd’s beauty is known to shimmer more luminous than the sun. You see, Freyr is a god. His home world is Vanaheim, second only to Asgard. But he rules over Alfheim, the land of the light elves and one of the nine worlds of the Yggdrasil tree. The light elves are beings of good whose essence is compared to that of pure, untainted nature. It’s easy to see why Freyr was so love-struck with Gerd. Though she was of the giants, with her radiant beauty, it was almost as if she was born of Alfheim. If Gerd had visited you, her light would have felt unnatural against your eyes—grating. You would have been in awe, but it would not have been pleasant. More like staring straight into the sun than the peace you describe.”
“Then why the creepy wind ghost?”
Before he could respond, the lights in the library suddenly went out, but with the sun of the late afternoon still pouring through the glass dome, it did little to distract them from their work.
“Must be a fuse,” she guessed.
He seemed to barely notice. “I think the story of Freyr and Gerd isn’t about who the woman in your vision was. I think it’s about what she wants you to know.”
Reigh tried to put the pieces together. “If I was having this conversation with the girls, they would try to tell me the story relates to Calder. They believe he’s a Norse being. But I saw the rune long before I knew Calder.”
Thorston frowned. “There are many possibilities. We should consider all of them. Perhaps Calder is related to the story. Perhaps not.”
“What is Jotunheim like?” she asked, referring to Gerd’s home world, sorry she’d brought Calder up.
“In Jotunheim, a dullness reigns over the forests and the rocky inclines. It’s a wasteland, barren. But the giants do not see it that way. To them, it is where their families are raised, where their race lives free, far from the authority of the gods.”
“Not far enough,” Reigh said, thinking of how Gerd was coerced into marrying Freyr. “Gerd may not be the woman I saw, but she calls to me. She’s important to whatever it is I’m meant to know.”
The memory of her kiss with Calder after the river cruise resurfaced, and of how the quartz Lu had given her had gone cold with the kiss. If the Othala rune stood for ancestry, perhaps she was connected to this barren world. Perhaps her ancestors were of the Jotun—the giants—like Gerd.
Thorston’s phone rang. Looking at the number, he immediately handed it to her.
“Hey, Lu,” she answered.
“You still at the library?”
“Yep.”
“And the lights are out?”
Reigh glanced around. “Every last one.”
“The garage is out, too.” She sounded worried. “The whole town is.”
Knowing they were finished with their research for the day, Reigh closed the book. “The threat?”
“Possibly. Our shield is already weakening. It’s a small bite, but it’s a bite nonetheless. Stay at the library. Mama Blanchet has called an emergency meeting of the pottery cir
cle.”
Ending the call, Reigh told Thorston the news.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he said, gathering the encyclopedia into his arms. “I’ll take this back to the shack.”
“No, you’ll stay,” Mrs. Florence said from behind them.
“Aunt Florence,” Thorston greeted, kissing her on the cheek.
“My boy. Good to see you. You didn’t show for lunch today.”
“I forgot,” he replied. “Sorry. My mind isn’t thinking clearly these days.”
Mrs. Florence patted him on the cheek. “We’ll discuss it later. For now, I need you to follow me down to the cellar.”
“I thought only pottery circle members were allowed in the meeting room,” Reigh questioned as they headed towards the stairs. “And men…”
“Blanchet will have to make an exception,” Mrs. Florence stated with absolute resolve. “There are far more important things at stake than Blanchet’s anger towards her ex-husbands.”
With no electricity, their headquarters was pitch black. While she and Thorston stood awkwardly at the side of the room, Mrs. Florence went around to light the many candles that adorned it. “Now is not the time to be wallflowers,” she said when she was done. “Take a seat.”
Reigh moved to the leather chairs. When she sat, the back of her seat stretched far above her head, as if it were a throne within a circle of other thrones. Thorston took the seat next to her.
One by one, the rest of the circle made their way in, each surprised to see Thorston among them, all except Mama Blanchet, who was amazingly content to have him there. The only person missing from the group was Jessa-Marie. She was stuck in Brockwell hiding from the sheriff.
“It’s worse than I thought,” Lu said to Reigh, taking the seat on the other side of her. “Traffic lights are out. Lampposts are shattered. I parked outside the center of town and walked down. It felt safer than driving.”
“Nowhere is safe,” Mama Blanchet claimed, starting the meeting. “This was but a sample of what the threat is capable of. We know that from the mill. Our shield still holds, but only barely. I don’t understand why the shield wasn’t more powerful.”
Full of shame, Reigh looked down to the floor. She had done this. Last night walking home, when she had summoned the lightning bolt, she must have given the threat the spur of strength it needed to test the shield.
Reading her body language, Thorston leaned towards her and set his hand on her knee. “That’s between you and me,” he whispered. “No one else has to know. So stop looking so damn guilty.”
Nodding, Reigh lifted her head back up.
“Maybe it was the Northern Lights,” Nikki suggested. “They were beautiful, but even that which is beautiful can be deadly.”
“No,” Mama Blanchet told her. “The issue of the Northern Lights has already been discussed. They were a gift to Reigh. An act of love. The threat could not have gained from an act of love.”
Next to her, Thorston tightened his jaw.
“We need to focus on figuring out what the threat is,” Lu asserted. “Only then can we begin to understand what makes it weak and what makes it strong.”
“I believe the energy to be masculine,” Mrs. Florence revealed, a far-off look in her eyes, as if she were peering at something other than those across from her. “And otherworldly. That’s why he needed the storm to enter our domain. He lurks within the town, out of sight, waiting for his strength to build. Eventually, one of his blows will be deadly.”
“And do you sense where he may come from?” Lu asked, pleading. “Please, Mrs. Florence. Try to see. I could lose… There’s a lot at stake.”
“I’m sorry, child,” Mrs. Florence said, shaking her head. “I can’t tell. This recent attack is fresh enough that his energy lingers, but that’s all I can read.”
Lu sat back in her chair, dejected but not defeated. “Then we have to find someone who can.”
“Olivia,” Mama Blanchet put forth.
“No,” Mrs. Florence commanded, taking charge of the issue. “Olivia is not in governance of her powers. She could lose control, give the threat what he wants.” Before Mama Blanchet could object, she added, “But perhaps there is someone who could help. Calder.”
Reigh sat up straight. “How?” she asked.
“I know you don’t want to believe it, but you must accept the possibility that your friend is not human. If he isn’t, if he is a being of Norse mythology, then he can help. Higher beings of the Yggdrasil tree can travel between the worlds. Since the threat we face is also otherworldly, Calder may be able to see what we cannot.”
It was insane. She didn’t know how many times she had to tell them Calder was human. She had watched him grow from a shy boy in flannels to a man in suits who was confident and charismatic. But she also knew not to fight the circle on it, so she answered, “I’ll ask him, but don’t count on it. We should have a back-up plan.”
“There is no back-up plan,” Mama Blanchet stated, her voice high with frenzy. “This is it. For all our sakes, I hope Calder is exactly who we think he is.”
“I don’t,” Thorston said abruptly. “And neither should you. No being of Norse mythology visits a human woman with good intentions. Calder may not be a threat to this town, but he is a threat to Reigh.”
“Thorston,” she reproached. “Don’t say that. Calder is genuine. I know him better than I know anyone else. I trust him with my life.”
“You shouldn’t,” Thorston insisted. “You shouldn’t trust anything about him.”
Furious, Reigh said nothing. Instead, she turned her back on Thorston and faced Mama Blanchet. “I have no idea when I’ll see Calder again, but when I do, I’ll ask.”
“I think it evident by that grand display of his that he’ll return soon, so when he does, make sure you do.”
“Until then, how do we turn the power back on?” Lu asked. “I have a garage to run.”
“The power plant is too far away, but there is a substation in the woods,” Nikki told them. “I’m assuming that’s what the threat meddled with. If you give it a kick start, you’ll restore power to the town.”
“We need lightning,” Mrs. Florence resolved. “Which means Thorston and Reigh should go.”
“But the storm is what unleased the threat in the first place,” Lu objected. “There has to be another way. Call the power plant and have them come out and fix it. I take back what I said about the garage. It can wait. My family is more important.”
“We don’t need to summon a storm,” Mrs. Florence informed her. “A natural one is already approaching. By the time they reach the substation, the rain will fall. They just have to direct the lightning towards the transformer. Meanwhile, the rest of us will stay here and raise another shield.”
Lu seemed satisfied by Mrs. Florence’s answer, but Reigh wasn’t. “One problem,” she said. “Thorston doesn’t practice magic. And I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m like a hipster at an ACDC concert.”
“Thorston chooses not to practice, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how. I know my boy will do this if it means helping the innocent.”
Thorston said nothing in reply.
“Perhaps someone else should go with them,” Lu suggested. “Nikki, you know where the substation is.”
“No,” Mrs. Florence said. “They need to go alone. The rest of us must stay and raise the shield.”
“And what about protecting Reigh?” Thorston asked. “The threat is out there, possibly stalking the town from the woods.”
“We’ll protect you both,” Mrs. Florence promised. “You’ll be safe.”
Setting the encyclopedia down on the floor, Thorston jumped from his seat. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He went to the door.
Reigh stood to follow, but Lu stopped her, placing a hand over her heart. Her hand felt strong pressed against her chest. “You have my love and protection,” she said tenderly. Then she blew softly onto Reigh’s forehead.
The
rest of the circle did the same, each a phoenix passing on its flame.
***
“How could you say that about Calder?” Reigh demanded of Thorston as they trekked through the woods.
As Mrs. Florence had predicted, rain fell around them, soaking her through the black T-shirt she wore—Thorston’s T-shirt. In the heat, the rain was a relief. It cooled her skin, but it could not tame her temper.
“I said it because it needed to be said,” Thorston upheld, unapologetic.
Reigh kicked at a thorny branch that clung to her leg. “Listen to me carefully. I have known Calder for a long time. He is not capable of harming me or anyone else I know. He’s good. I don’t give a damn where he’s from—be it some otherworld or this one. I trust him more than I do any of you.”
“What about the creepy wind ghost and how it keeps falling on the story of Freyr and Gerd? I know you see the connection. You told me so yourself.”
“What? That he’s like Freyr, a god? It’s dangerous to take stories too literally. Calder has never proposed marriage to me. He has never coerced me into being with him. We’ve never been romantic, not until Broken Ridge. If he were like Freyr, he would have made a move a long time ago. He wouldn’t have sat by my side for an entire decade, eating cheap ass blueberry pancakes and talking crap.”
Above them, the first of the lightning struck. Reigh frowned, worried it would somehow strengthen the threat, even though it was natural.
“Don’t worry,” Thorston reassured her. “If he could use a natural storm against us, he would have been unleashed long ago.”
“I find it best never to underestimate your enemies. It’s a little survival tip I picked up, curtesy of growing up in Vegas.”
“Was it really that bad?”
She was still irked at Thorston, but realizing they had a job to do, she allowed him to change the subject. “For me, yes. But it’s not as bad for everyone. Some people really enjoy living in Vegas, but they tend to be the ones with the stable homes, whose parents can offer them something outside the hollowness. My mom was fantastic, but we didn’t have money to travel. I was trapped there. All I knew was the ambiguity of the casinos, the party of the streets. You ever been?”