Foretold

by Rinda Elliott

  I closed my eyes, thought of the stories from The Poetic Edda, how the fire giant Surt would battle—”You found your warrior.”

  “I did. Peaceboy here is carrying the soul of Freyr.”

  “Peaceboy?”

  “Gentle as the summer snow, he is.” She laughed, then started coughing.

  “Kat?” I yelled into the phone. “Are you sick? Hurt? What’s going on?”

  “It’s been a cold night. Well, the part of it I spent alone under the blanket, anyway. Peaceboy is awfully warm.”

  “Um.”

  She burst out laughing again. “Don’t worry, it’s all good. Well, except for the pyro, the cold, the insane progenitor and, oh, an all-consuming fire even I didn’t expect.”

  My heart stuttered. The resignation in her voice scared the crap out of me. I flashed back to my nightmare of her hanging from that tree. “That’s it. We have to figure out where Mom really is and we have to get together somehow. I can’t stand this. Between you and fire and Coral and tidal waves...” I let my sentence just drift away. Didn’t need to elaborate because her answering silence told me she knew exactly what I was feeling.

  “I love you, Raven.”

  I clutched the phone, squeezed my eyes shut tight to keep in tears. Kat had said it before but she never, ever prompted it. Why now? “I love you, too.”

  “Hey, I gotta go. We’ve got a problem here.”

  “Call me later. At this number. Let me know you’re okay.”

  “I will.” She was silent for a long moment, but didn’t hang up. “Hey, Raven? Be safe, okay?”

  “You, too, Kat.”

  I hung up, feeling as if my heart might shrivel up and plunk out into the snow. Everything was happening too fast and I couldn’t help but feel something or someone was doing their best to change fate. Mom was the biggest suspect and I understood why she’d want to take out the warriors who were possibly her daughter’s murderers, but all the other stuff? The winter was supposed to be the first sign of Ragnarok. Was supposed to last three years before the next part started. It was all happening at once and something told me that’s what we needed to be figuring out.

  “You ready to see the coolest piece of history in the United States?” Vanir jumped off the rocks, came toward me with his long-legged stride. I held my breath when he stopped so close I could feel the heat coming off his body. His nose was red from the cold.

  I stared at him, at this boy I shouldn’t be so crazy about, and thought about how little time we could have together. Stretching on my toes, I kissed his red nose. “I’ve always wanted to see this.”

  “Kisses. I like.” He took my hand and we walked toward the park entrance. “With your background, I’m kind of shocked you haven’t come through here.” He pointed down the path. “That rock wall and those steps took years to build.”

  The walkway and steps were slippery from the snow. They wound down and around with rock walls of different heights. A few places had handrails, like the beginning area that held an empty outdoor-theater-type place. Vanir kept one of my hands warm as he held tight—which turned out to be a good thing because the trail down was crazy dangerous in this weather. There were things buried beneath the slush, like cracks in the rock and fallen branches. The snow grew steadily stronger. I tucked in my chin. “I hear running water.”

  “Two creeks run through here. Normally, it’s more fun to go off trail—there are cool places where the rocks jut out. But some are cracked and they’re too slippery right now, anyway.

  I looked up at the jutting cliff sides, saw strands of silvery icicles. “Bet this place is gorgeous when it’s all green.”

  “It is. It’s even better in the fall when all the leaves are changing colors.” Vanir grabbed me when I slipped again. “There’s supposed to be a chamber under the ground, too. A lot of people think it’s a burial ground and the runestone is actually a marker for it. The stone is in that building.”

  Squinting into the snow, I made out a building that reminded me of beach houses I’d seen in North Carolina. The wood had weathered above the half stone walls. There was a row of tall windows over the snow-covered roof, like a second story.

  Wasn’t any warmer inside the place.

  My mouth dropped open when I saw the stone. Pictures didn’t do it justice. The thing stretched twelve feet into the air and about ten feet across. I wanted so much to touch the ancient symbols pecked into the surface, feel something that someone—one of my ancestors, maybe—had created. But glass panels surrounded it.

  “I feel no power here,” I murmured.

  “Because there isn’t any.” He stared at the rock. “This is only a marker—and not for a burial chamber, either. I’m glad there isn’t any power. If there was, I wonder if it would trigger your rune tempus. There are security cameras in here to keep people from scratching things into the glass, so explaining that would be fun.”

  There were other, much smaller stones behind glass as well as writings about the lady who first believed the stone was a Viking artifact. I looked at the rune alphabets, but my gaze kept returning to the big one. “It’s cool.”

  Lame, I know. But if I couldn’t touch the thing, I’d rather see the place of real power, the gloaming grove.

  Guess Vanir figured that out because he chuckled, took my hand again. We went back up the path. I was so ready for another mug of hot chocolate. And maybe a hot bath.

  I caught a glimpse of wild turkeys poking around in the snow and felt bad for them. Wondered where they’d go, what they’d do with such a long stretch of cold. Once away from the buildings, we moved off the path and into the trees. I felt more energy in the forest than I had near that rock.

  “Is it safe to talk now?” I teased.

  “Yeah. I know it seems stupid, but generations of my family have kept this secret. It’s an old habit.”

  “But you do realize your family could set a lot of speculation to rest, right? You could let these people know that it is a runestone, that it isn’t a date carved on there, or a grave marker—or a prank.”

  He slipped his hands in his coat pockets. “It was carved to throw people off on purpose. I’m not about to be the one to spill the beans.”

  “When Hallur mentioned keeping it safe, I remembered reading about how people from other religions used to destroy sacred groves. How they’d cut the ancient, powerful trees to the ground, burn the earth to destroy the magic. I always wondered if the gloaming groves were a little like ley lines under the earth—the ones true witches tap into for power.”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing like those.”

  “I thought you said you’d been forbidden to step in it.”

  He grinned. “You haven’t known a lot of preteen boys, have you?”

  “So what was it like?”

  “I think you should feel it for yourself.”

  “But you and your brothers said it’s a secret, that your family protects it. You’ve only known me a little while.”

  “I trust you.”

  Shame burned inside me, made my forehead break out in a sweat despite the cold. “Why?”

  He stepped close, so close I could feel his warmth through my borrowed clothes. “You breathed life into my body this morning and you have to ask?”

  Blushing, I whispered, “What do you really think is going to happen in that grove? What do you think the ‘turning’ is?”

  He put his hands on my waist, pulled me against him, leaned down and kissed me. I stood on my toes and closed my eyes to better concentrate on the softness of his mouth. The deep and crazy tingling I felt in my belly.

  “I wish I knew,” he whispered against my lips. “But in case it’s something bad, I think we should spend the afternoon doing something good.”

  Oh, I agreed. Completely.

  I wra
pped my arms around his neck and was just sinking into another soul-stealing kiss when a humming sound filtered through the trees. The metallic humming I’d heard that first night with him. When Steven died.

  Vanir heard it, too.

  He went stiff, his eyes wide and so close to mine I could see flecks of lighter brown and gold in them. My skin prickled as the stink of bad magic came on the wind. Terror kicked in—rigid and slicing and suffocating. I bunched handfuls of his coat in my hands. “We need to get back to your truck. Now.”

  He nodded, his mouth tightening. “Let’s go through the woods—the path is too open. Risky.” He tugged on my hand before turning farther into the trees. I followed, sure he knew this area pretty well.

  A streak of gray ran past, stark against all the white.

  “Vanir,” I said suddenly. Pulled him to a stop.

  “What?” He turned to see what I did. Geri and Freak creeping silently toward us, their black lips curled in snarls as they faced something behind me.

  I turned to look but saw only a thick forest with faint glimpses of the rock wall beyond. We seemed to be moving away from the park, not toward the parking lot at all. “Vanir, where are we going?”

  “Not in the direction the wolves are facing.”

  I didn’t want to be in these woods in the snow. Not again. I’d had enough of that on the first night.

  Vanir picked up the pace until we were jogging. The wolves spread out to run about five feet out on either side of us. My skin crawled with magic. Panic—alive and clawing—threatened to break free of my chest. I felt her, Urd, stirring and the magic tickled my throat. The fall of snow picked up and I tightened my fingers on his right before lightning rent the sky and a roll of thunder shook the earth.

  And on the tail of that thunder came the sound of dogs.

  A lot of dogs. And wolves.

  “We have to hurry!” Vanir picked up the pace.

  I struggled to follow, my breath misting in the air in front of me as I ran. A tree branch slapped my cheek, the sting bringing tears to my eyes. I had to blink hard and keep my hands in front of my face in places. When we got to the parking lot, Vanir ran to his truck and opened the tailgate for Geri and Freak. We scrambled into the cab and had just reached the road leading down when the first dogs burst from the forest. Two Dobermans, followed by small terriers and then a husky. Behind the dogs came coyotes...and my mouth dropped open when I saw three huge spotted cats.

  “Vanir, look!” I pointed.

  “Bobcats.” He frowned, then squinted as even more dogs came from the trees. They ran at the truck as Vanir sped up, their barks loud, some kind of yippy, but some sounding ferocious.

  I closed my eyes, scared we’d hit one of them, but Vanir managed to avoid the dogs and get us back to the park entrance. Twisting in my seat so I could look out the back, I watched as more dogs joined the others. Their determined strides ate up the ground fast—but not as fast as the truck.

  “They aren’t going to stop following us.” I turned back to look out of the side window and saw flashes of brown and black among the trees.

  Vanir didn’t speak for a while and I knew he was concentrating on driving on the snow, so I stayed quiet. My lungs hurt from pulling in so much cold air so fast. There were no other vehicles on the road and we made good time despite slipping and sliding a few times. I turned again to see Geri and Freak standing guard on either side of the bed. The truck swerved and the wolves shuffled their feet, but stayed facing out, their gazes pinned on the trees. Or what moved around them. We were miles away from the park and still there were glimpses of animals. It was like we’d been pinned with targets that drew them out as we passed.

  When the truck spun again, I faced front and grabbed for my seat belt, but this time Vanir couldn’t stop our slide off the road into a ditch. I managed to not hit the dashboard by holding onto the seat belt.

  “Shit,” he breathed, stretching his arm over the backseat to look behind as he tried to back us out. But the tires only spun.

  Growls came from the back of the truck and Vanir cursed again. “The dogs are pretty far back, but we need to run.” His took my chin in his hand, stared into my eyes and gave me a smile I suppose was meant to reassure me. “You ready?”

  I wasn’t, but I nodded.

  We clambered out of the truck and met at the hood before hitting the road. Geri and Freak ran to our sides. I kept slipping, so I moved onto the ground next to the road, hoping that would help with traction. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw blobs of brown and black moving behind the trees. So many.

  We couldn’t outrun them like this.

  The wolves must have come to the same conclusion because they stopped running and braced to fight.

  I did the only thing I could think of. I yanked on Vanir’s hand, pulling him to a stop. Then I wrapped my arms around him and let the swirling magic in my throat loose.

  * * *

  “Whoa.” Vanir let go of me, his boots crunching snow as he blindly reached out to brace his hands against a tree.

  The forest still moved in a dizzy spin, but I whirled around to where Geri and Freak paced. Their growls rumbled loud as the world stopped—suspended as if we’d been frozen inside a snow globe midshake.

  Everything inside me snapped taut as I followed the wolves’ gazes. Dogs had just started to clear the brush. Wild ones in all shapes and sizes, some probably domestic—some obviously pets by the collars—their paws outstretched midstride, teeth glistening wet in open mouths.

  “Oh, gods, Vanir, look.” I pointed. “We don’t have much time. I’m still new at doing this myself so I have no idea how long it’ll hold. We have to run!”

  He let go of the tree, dark, dark eyes wide as he stared at the animals chasing us.

  I touched his arm. “We have to go. Will the wolves follow? I can’t leave them here to fight.”

  When he met my gaze, his own was full of steely resolve. “They will end up fighting no matter how this plays out. We will, too.”

  His expression said so much more than his words. Yes, we would fight. Whether it was here against wild animals or later against others carrying gods’ souls—our fates were playing out like we were nothing more than game pieces on a colossal Norse chessboard. My fingers began to sting from more than just the cold, so I pulled out the small notebook I’d snatched from Vanir’s room, held out my other hand to him.

  Vanir whistled for Geri and Freak, took my hand and we bolted. He surprised me when he pulled me off the road completely and into the woods. His legs were longer and he could probably get farther on his own, but I was small and quick so I was pretty sure I could keep up.

  Without wind, nothing but us moved. Snowflakes dangled in the air, tiny wet dots that stung and melted on my cheeks as I struck them. The forest spread out before us, looking as if someone had sprinkled the air with white pepper. We jumped over fallen logs, small bushes and even a rabbit that had been frozen midleap. Our breath fogged from our mouths only to mist as it became not of us, but of the rest of the world. I wanted to fan my hands in front of my face, knock the flakes and mists out of my way, but one hand held tight to the notebook and the other to Vanir. The strength of his grip told me he would never let go.

  Then my fingers started to burn.

  I tugged hard on my fingers. “I’ll keep running, but I need my hand.” He let go, shortening his strides to stay back with me. I tried to hold the pen to the paper despite running over uneven ground.

  That was such a bad idea. I crashed into a prickly bush, extra prickly because it had solidified into what felt like porcupine quills. As I fell over it, my feet flew into the air, my face sinking into snow. The cold pricked at my skin as I hurriedly sat up and tried to brush it off with one hand while reaching for the notebook I’d dropped. My fingers touched paper and when I pulled they came away wit
h one ripped piece.

  My hands shook with cold. I braced the paper on my thigh. Snow was soaking the paper too fast. The pen made no mark when first put to paper and panic choked me as I spit out snow. I shook the pen, growing more and more afraid as my right hand took over.

  “Shit, Raven, here!”

  I glanced up to find Vanir shoving the notebook toward me. This time, the pen worked but it took so long to get the symbols written, my fast breaths were ripping up my lungs with cold.

  “‘The trickster is freed.’” I could barely get sound into my words, my throat was so tight.

  The words fell between us like a heavy rock.

  Vanir grabbed the notebook, frowned hard at it. “If we go back to the first and second messages...’in violence conceived, of dark blood born, the trickster is freed’...and what? There’s more to this, I know it.”

  “Your brother called me a trickster.” I frowned. “But Loki is the trickster, too.”

  He nodded. “I know. And he’s supposed to be locked up in a cave until Ragnarok. We know that’s happening, so it isn’t as if this is news.”

  “Unless it goes with something else.” I hugged my arms to myself, remembered the animals behind us. I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding so hard, it hurt. “We have to run.”

  Vanir suddenly moaned.

  The trees next to me seemed to tilt as the slow spin began. “Oh, no,” I whispered. We’d run pretty far, but I didn’t think it was far enough. One tree melted into the next and Vanir dropped the notebook, his face alarmingly pale. I didn’t think twice, just stepped as close as I could, stretched onto my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck. My cold cheek met his, my lips as close to his ears as I could get. “Close your eyes,” I whispered. “Hold on to me and don’t let go.”

  “Don’t you let go.” His deep voice rasped into my ear before he pulled back just enough to slide our lips together. They started out cold, but warmed fast as he opened my mouth and slid his tongue in to touch mine. I kissed him back, loving the heat that built inside my body, loving his taste.