Rock, Paper, Shivers

by Sara C. Roethle

  “They were slowing you down,” she replied. “Holding you back.”

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t be alive if not for Alaric.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” she questioned seriously. “Tell me, I’ve only been with you a short time, so tell me when he’s saved you.”

  I thought about it. I’d escaped Estus’ Salr with the help of James. I’d defeated Diana with my magic. We’d travelled back to the present time with energy I’d stolen from Yggdrasil.

  “When we were attacked in Estus’ Salr,” I blurted, trying to recall the exact event. All of the emergencies had somewhat blurred together in my mind. “One of Aislin’s people had spotted me, and was coming toward me with an intent to harm. Alaric killed him.”

  “But this harmful man, he never actually reached you?” the Morrigan said as if she already knew the answer.

  I frowned.

  “How do you know you would not have saved yourself, had Alaric not been present? How do you know that if he had been somewhere else, that you wouldn’t be alive today?”

  My frown deepened. I didn’t.

  “Now tell me of the times you have saved yourself,” she instructed.

  I went back over everything I’d just gone through in my head, but didn’t say any of it out loud.

  Still, the Morrigan smiled, satisfied. “The truth is, though you’ve had help, you have no proof you couldn’t have done all of it on your own. You feel you need a protector, without realizing you already have one inside you.”

  I went silent. I couldn’t really argue, but I didn’t exactly agree with her either. There might have been no proof I couldn’t have done it all on my own, but there was also no proof that I could.

  Really not wanting to discuss things further, I stood. “I’m going to take a look around,” I announced, hoping she’d actually let me.

  She nodded. “Think on what I’ve said.”

  I nodded quickly and hurried for the door.

  “And Madeline?” she questioned, halting me mid-motion. “I’ve sealed all entrances to this Salr. Don’t waste your time trying to escape me.”

  I gritted my teeth and finished my advance toward the door. For someone who wanted me to stand on my own two feet, she sure was treating me like a child.

  I let myself out into the hall and shut the door behind me. As soon as I was alone, I breathed a sigh of relief. I might not be able to leave, but it was nice to be away from the Morrigan’s overwhelming presence.

  I walked back toward the entrance we’d come through, unable to simply trust it was actually sealed. I at least had to try.

  Sure enough, once I was in the entry room, there was no apparent way out. I touched the walls, and even used a rickety chair so I could touch the ceiling. There was no feel of magic to any of it.

  Resigned, I journeyed back into the long hallway, not really paying attention to where I was going. I went through several twists and turns, occasionally checking behind closed doors, only to find barren rooms. I was just about to turn around and go back to find the Morrigan to ask her where I was supposed to sleep, when a noise caught my attention.

  It sounded like a psst, followed by a giggle. More curious than I was afraid, I looked to my left. There was a door, slightly ajar. I’d ignored it since all the other rooms had been empty.

  A small voice whispered, “Hey!”

  My heart gave a little jump as I took a step closer and peered into the darkness seeping around the edges of the door. The rough wood slowly opened a little further inward, as if beckoning me inside.

  Steeling myself for an attack, I pushed the door the rest of the way inward. The room within gradually lit of its own accord to reveal what was either a tiny woman or a child. It was hard to tell which. Her hair was dark green, but it was a green that looked natural, not dyed. It had highlights right where the sun would hit, and other subtle variations in color throughout. Rough-cut bangs obscured the upper portion of her face, which was delicate and angular, boasting large, sparkly hazel eyes that gave her a childlike appearance, though upon closer observation, I was pretty sure she was an adult.

  Still, she couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. Her clothes were a mishmash of different fabrics and styles, pairing a loose, long skirt with a button up tank top, and a pastel pink cardigan that clashed with the more vivid colors of her other clothing.

  She gestured frantically with a tiny hand for me to step into the room, which I did without thinking. The door shut of its own accord behind me.

  The room was clearly the small woman’s living quarters, which meant she was likely Vaettir, if she was able to get inside to begin with. Her bed was made of straw, and the room was dotted with various crystals, shells, and other things that could be collected outside.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered. “No one has come to this place in a very long time.”

  “Who are you?” I whispered back, still feeling wary.

  She looked slightly startled by the question. “I’m Kira,” she answered, pointing at her chest.

  “Are you Vaettir?” I asked, wondering just how long she’d been in the Salr alone.

  “I know that word,” she said thoughtfully.

  I nodded. “I’m Vaettir too. How long have you been here alone?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’m not alone. The humans up above think I’m a fairy. They give me clothes and food, and they don’t tell anyone about me.”

  My eyes widened. She’d somehow been living on her own and interacting with humans, while remaining off the radar of the other Vaettir.

  “How on earth have you managed to live this way?” I marveled.

  Misinterpreting my question, she answered. “The humans enjoy my gifts. I can make the flowers grow, and I watch over their gardens.”

  I shook my head. “I mean, how have you remained hidden from other Vaettir? We’re not allowed to interact with humans any more than necessary.”

  Kira’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know! I’m good at hiding. I can hide from the humans too if that’s what I’m supposed to do.”

  At the third mention of the humans, it finally clicked. Kira knew the way to civilization, and she knew the way in and out of the Salr.

  She watched me silently as I thought things over, clearly panicked.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted, realizing that she was waiting for me to explain things to her. “If you’ve remained hidden from the Vaettir this long, you probably don’t need to hide from your human friends.”

  Kira heaved a sigh of relief, then asked, “Why are you with the Morrigan? I thought she left us long ago.”

  I inhaled sharply. “How do you know who she is?”

  Kira seemed confused. “I remember her, somehow, from a very long time ago.”

  Woah. If Kira had seen the Morrigan before, that meant she was very, very old. Then something hit me that didn’t quite make sense. “The Morrigan hasn’t always looked like she does now. How did you recognize her?”

  Kira’s eyes widened. “Can you not feel her power? She’s sealed us within the Salr with only a thought.”

  My hope deflated. If Kira was stuck here too, she couldn’t show me the way out. “It won’t be permanent,” I soothed. “We’re only staying here for a little while.”

  I didn’t feel the need to mention we’d be using the Salr as a sanctuary while we summoned a dark army of phantoms.

  Kira suddenly looked worried again. “Just be sure to do what she says while you’re here,” she warned. “You don’t want to end up like Cúchulainn.”

  “Cúchulaiin?” I questioned, not having heard the name before.

  Kira nodded and looked toward the door as if afraid the Morrigan would come bursting in at any moment. She turned back to me. “The Morrigan’s only love. He seduced her, wanting her support in battle. She was once known as a great champion of warriors, protecting them in their endeavors. He eventually grew vain, and cast her aside, thinking he was powerful enough to make his conquests
on his own. Outraged, the Morrigan hindered him in battle from that point forth. She could have killed him initially, but wanted his humiliation first. When he was finally slain, she appeared as a crow on his shoulder, showing him the darkness she would inflict upon his soul, even after death. She left this world shortly after. Many say she followed him into the underworld to torment him even there.”

  I shivered. I could see the Morrigan doing just as Kira claimed, and it explained her distaste for men.

  “You should probably stay hidden,” I advised, starting to worry that the Morrigan would come looking for me soon. “I’ll come speak with you again, if I can.”

  Kira nodded as I turned to go.

  “Hey!” she whispered before I could push the door open. “What’s your name?”

  I turned back to look at her. “Madeline,” I answered, “but you can call me Maddy.”

  Kira nodded and smiled. “I can feel your power too, Maddy. Don’t let the Morrigan change who you are.”

  With that unsettling warning, I nodded and turned to go. The Morrigan had said she wanted to make me strong. With the new information from Kira, I couldn’t help but wonder just what that might entail.

  On one hand, strength in times of conflict was necessary, but at what cost? Was it strong to sacrifice few for the good of many? Was it strong to risk summoning an army of spirits to save yourself and your child? I knew there were many differences, but at that moment, as I crept back down the hallway, strength and selfishness seemed to go hand in hand.

  7

  Alaric glanced at James, creeping along silently in the darkness beside him toward the Salr. He felt uneasy with only James at his side, and even more uneasy with the plan in general.

  Mikael was the one most skilled at negotiations, but he’d remained behind with the others. If things did not go as planned, someone would still need to save Madeline. Alaric hated the fact that it would have to be Mikael, but the Viking also stood the greatest chance of accomplishing the task, should Alaric perish.

  He trusted Sophie to rescue Madeline too, but she wasn’t as strong as Mikael, nor did she have the support of a clan. Mikael might have had many faults, but Alaric could almost guarantee he would protect Madeline, even though she carried Alaric’s unborn child.

  James gestured in the darkness, pointing toward the entrance. Alaric’s eyes followed to where he pointed.

  A large tree stump stood forlornly amidst the other trees, emitting a faint, familiar magic. He could only hope that past that entrance, would be Aislin. Since she had become Doyen for several clans, she had Salr in different countries, including this one in Norway. As Aislin’s spy, James had known the location, though he couldn’t guarantee Aislin would actually be there. Regardless, even if she was not somewhere below them, they might at least succeed in getting a message to her. A message filled with half-truths that might trick her into helping them, at least for the time being.

  She didn’t need to know James had turned on her, or that Alaric would sooner die than to give her Maddy. All Aislin needed to know was that Madeline had been kidnapped, and Alaric was desperate to find her. Desperate enough to join Aislin’s clan, and to help her control Madeline. Hopefully the lie, being so bold and backed by his love for Madeline, would persuade Aislin to believe it.

  The Norns’ slaughter caused him to believe Aislin had a way of tracking Madeline, or perhaps of tracking them all, since she’d found them so easily. Then again, maybe she had just tracked the key. It made no difference as long as she could find Madeline or the key again.

  Without tracking them, finding the Norn’s Salr would have been near impossible. An idea supported by the fact that Mikael had kept it hidden for centuries. Aislin had to have a way to find Madeline for any of it to be possible.

  James ran his hand over the surface of the tree stump. Moments later, a staircase appeared, level with the earth, leading downward. James went first. Alaric followed, relieved to not have the treacherous man at his back. Of course, Alaric supposed he was a treacherous man himself, shirking all former allegiances in the name of love. Estus had not been the first Doyen he’d served, but he would be the last, despite any consequences. He would never again stand by while someone he loved was tortured.

  It was love, this thing he felt for Madeline. He wasn’t sure if his draw to her was due to their similar natures, or to the fact that she was so different than other Vaettir. Either way, he was willing to die for her, a point he might well prove in the next few minutes.

  Heading down the spiraling staircase, he found a Salr that looked much like any other. Nearing the bottom, two women came into view, clearly on guard duty judging by their stance, leather armor, and cold stares leveled at James and Alaric as they descended the stairs. Just one step above them, James halted. Alaric’s stomach twisted as the ruse was about to begin.

  One woman was small, with short gray hair, while the other was tall, with blonde hair cropped close to her head.

  The gray haired woman smirked. “We never thought to see you again,” she said to James. “Aislin will be pleased you yet live.”

  James nodded curtly. “Is she here?”

  The blonde woman answered, “She is, but she grants audiences to very few.”

  “Trust me, she’s going to want to hear what we have to say.”

  The older-looking woman smiled softly. “We shall see.”

  She turned and led the way deeper into the Salr, leaving the blonde woman behind to keep guard.

  As James and Alaric followed, the blonde guard watched them warily. She was nervous about something, though whether it was due to Alaric’s and James’ presence, or something else, he did not know.

  They left the entry room and continued walking. Other Vaettir watched as they passed by in the halls. Some nodded in recognition of James, but none spoke. Alaric did his best to quell his anxiety. There was no telling who else might have the gift of empathy, like Madeline, and he didn’t want to give away any more information than necessary.

  Eventually they reached a heavy wooden door with two more guards outside, one male and one female, both wearing the same leather armor as the stair guards.

  The woman guard leaned against the wall casually, her long, red hair trailing across the stone, while the man stood at attention. Everything about him said military, from his crew-cut black hair to his ramrod straight spine, though he’d likely never been enlisted.

  Vaettir were prohibited from joining human organizations unless it was to the direct benefit of the Vaettir, like in the case of police or social workers. Having a single soldier in the military wouldn’t do any good, unless Aislin was gathering information. The thought made Alaric’s stomach flip flop nervously.

  Their escort looked the red haired woman up and down with distaste, then turned her attention to the male guard. “Tell the Doyen her spy is here, and that he is accompanied by . . . ” She turned to Alaric.

  “Alaric,” he answered, assuming that with Aislin’s intel, she would recognize his name.

  The male guard turned and opened the door just enough to quickly slip into the room, careful to not let Alaric or James see inside.

  Several painful moments later, he returned, opening the door fully. “She’ll see you.”

  With a smug expression, James led the way inside. Alaric nodded to their chaperone and the red-haired guard, then followed.

  The contrast between the room they entered compared to the rest of the Salr was jarring. Vintage lace and pastel velvet covered everything. The room edged on Victorian, but with hints of medieval, like the heavy wooden table where Aislin sat, pushed off to one side.

  Ignoring them, Aislin lifted a spoon to her thin lips, calmly eating her supper despite the appearance of her visitors. Alaric’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. She wore a dressing gown that would have seemed casual, if not for the tiny gemstones sewn into the fabric. Her gray hair was curled into an ornate updo, topped by a simple tiara. Several attendants in leather armor surrounded her.


  Aislin ate a final spoonful of her soup, set down her utensil, then dabbed her lips delicately with a cream colored napkin. With a regal air, she gestured for one of the attendants to remove her bowl. Once the attendant with the bowl silently let himself out of the room, Aislin stood.

  “I thought perhaps you’d betrayed me,” she said calmly to James, her lined face dispassionate.

  “I was temporarily without my memory due to a blow on the head,” he explained. “I only just recently regained knowledge of the past thirty years or so.”

  Aislin’s lips sealed into a tight line. “You were there that night, the night Madeline used the charm to defeat my executioner. You fought for the wrong side.”

  If James was nervous, he didn’t show it. “As I explained, I had lost my memory. Now that I have regained it, my allegiance is with you.”

  Aislin cocked her head in apparent deep thought. Alaric kept his breathing even, his stance relaxed, though he was quite sure he and James were about to die.

  With a surprising nod of assent, Aislin turned her pale eyes to Alaric. “You were there that night as well, you stood at Madeline’s side. I cannot believe that you have suddenly decided to choose the correct side.”

  Alaric glanced at James, then spoke. “Madeline and I had hoped to use the charm as a bargaining tool to join your clan, as we desired protection from Estus. Siding with Mikael’s people was a temporary allegiance, at best.”

  “Ah Mikael,” Aislin mused. “How I would like to get my hands on him. Where is our Viking friend?”

  Alaric didn’t have to fake his frown in regards to Mikael. “We parted ways when Madeline was kidnapped. He did not view rescuing her as a feasible option.”

  Aislin laughed. “Now it all becomes clear. You hope I can find the girl, but why would I want to do such a thing?”

  Alaric smiled. “Because you want to find the charm before Estus.”

  Aislin shrugged. “I spent centuries searching for the charm, until one of the Norns informed me that an executioner would use the dead to find it. Part of that information was relayed to Estus, unfortunately, setting this competition into motion.”