by S. T. Bende
“Good. We’re all here.” Tyr rubbed his girlfriend’s shoulder with one hand and ran the other through his hair. He’d changed into a clean shirt in the time it took me to fetch our friends, and though the wounds on his face looked like they were trying to knit themselves shut, blood was still caked on his cheeks. I wondered if it was his or a dragon’s.
“We’re all here, kille. Start talking.” Henrik leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Something’s going down with the dragons,” Tyr began. “I don’t know what, and I don’t know why. But that initial skirmish we saw a few weeks ago in Nidavellir was just the beginning. Back then they were fighting amongst themselves, posturing for dominance. The dwarves were only getting hurt when they tried to intervene. Now the dwarves are being outright attacked. The dragons turned on them, and they’re getting more aggressive. And the dragons’ numbers are down—either they’re killing each other off, or they’re transferring to another realm.”
“They’re transferring,” I confirmed. “Forse’s scout in Muspelheim reported a group of dragons entering a portal in the volcano. If they’re transferring realms in Muspelheim, they could definitely be doing it in Nidavellir.”
Henrik rubbed his neck. “Do you suppose they took Freya through the Muspelheim portal to Nidavellir? Then what’s happened to the missing dragons?”
“Maybe there’s another portal from Nidavellir to a second realm,” I mused. “Or maybe the portals can go to more than one location. Tyr, is it safe to go back there to investigate? Or are the dragons still attacking?”
“It’s safe at the moment. Odin sent the Elite Team to cover me, and we were able to subdue a good number of them. The ones we could find, anyway.” Tyr rubbed the stubble on his chin. “You think there are two portals in Nidavellir?”
“Well, the dragons in Muspelheim had to come from somewhere,” I pointed out. I quickly recapped what Hyro had told us about the unusual dragon presence, the existence of fire giant wizards, the weird energy around the portal, and the bizarre mutation of Muspelheim’s normally sluggish fire giants into full-blown super soldiers. “It’s insane there right now—the giants are even breathing fire, shooting the hot stuff out of their mouths a ridiculous distance.”
Henrik leaned back to stare at me. “It’s almost like they’ve taken on the qualities of the dragons.”
My eyes widened as I stared back. “That’s never happened before. There can’t be an inter-species transmutation of powers. Can there?”
“Just because it’s never been done before doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” Henrik pointed out. “Think about it. Idunn spliced apple specimens until she came up with the immortality blend. Odin spliced raven genes until he created Huginn and Muninn, the ultimate eyes in the sky. Who’s to say it couldn’t be done inter-speciously?”
“Maybe,” I conceded. “But inter-realm species? That’s just playing with fire.”
Elsa giggled from the end of the couch. “Isn’t that what they’ve created? Fire-breathing fire giants?”
Henrik and I inhaled simultaneously.
“Oh my gods. Do you realize what this means?” I asked him.
“They’ve found a way to create hybrid dark species. How? Their energy levels should be disparate enough to kill off the invading genes.” The thought tumbled out of Henrik’s mouth.
I matched his pace. “Unless the dominant gene’s been enchanted to accept the recessive one. Could a spell like that even exist? And how long would it hold?”
“And what happens when it wears off? If the specimen contains warring genes and one side wins out, what happens to the host body?” Henrik continued. “Does it return to its original state or does it die?”
“Could a corporeal being even withstand that kind of internal dissention?” I asked.
“Uh, Einstein? Tesla?” Mia held up her hands in a cross. “Time out. The rest of us can’t keep up.”
Henrik took a breath. “Brynn and I are wondering… if it’s possible that the fire giants actually got some kind of genetic transplant from the dragons. Magically. If that happened, they could have taken on some of the dragons’ physical capabilities, like the fire breathing.”
“But because a magical transfer is finite, unlike a physical transfer, the magic would eventually wear off and the transferred genes would be at odds with the pre-existing genetics of the host body. So what’s going to happen to the fire giants then?” I asked.
“And how is the transfer taking place? Is that how the volcanic explosion plays into this? Is everything that goes near that volcano in Muspelheim infected with some airborne dragon pathogen? Or does the spell target specific individuals with a certain predisposition?” Henrik asked.
“And how do the biomechanics break down?” I wondered. “Are the host bodies the only susceptible organisms, or is this something endemic? Could it spread?”
“And if it spreads, what’s the transfer mechanism? Are we talking cellular level, airborne pathogens, Odin forbid, a mushroom cloud…” Henrik trailed off.
“And most importantly”—I shot him a look—“what does this mean for us? Does it have anything to do with Freya? Is whoever’s taken her controlling the dragons too? What’s their ultimate goal?”
“I’m glad we’ve got Brynnrik working on this.” Elsa rested her head on the back of the couch. “But why do I feel like we’re even further from figuring this out than we were yesterday?”
“We know there’s a portal between Nidavellir and Muspelheim, though whether it goes on to a second destination, we can’t say. We know Freya was taken through it. And we know the dragons are involved in some way.” Tyr nodded at Henrik and me. “Your next stop’s going to be Nidavellir. Search the area for Freya, and pay our dragon guy a visit. He may have some insight.”
“You have a dragon guy?” Mia sounded incredulous.
“We’ve got a guy for everything, prinsessa.” Tyr kissed the top of her head.
“Oh, there’s one more thing you should know.” I leaned forward and spoke directly to Tyr. “The mortals are feeling Freya’s absence. The effects are taking hold sooner than we’d expected.”
Tyr glanced at Mia, then set his mouth in a firm line. When he spoke, it wasn’t conversational. It was a command. “Henrik, Brynn, go catch some sleep. When you wake up, head straight to Nidavellir and track down Berling. Then report back here and we’ll regroup.” A deep V formed between his brows. “We need to fix this fast.”
Henrik reached over to squeeze my knee and I bit down on the inside of my cheek. This was not the time for another black box explosion. Or even a fissure.
My world view narrowed to a singular focus. The dragons were inconsequential. We just had to get our love goddess back.
Everything depended on it.
“Um, guys?” Elsa raised her hand. “Healings first. Then sleep.”
“I’m good. Just take care of Brynn,” Tyr ordered.
“No can do, brother. Those wounds should have closed themselves up by now. You’ve obviously got dark remnants in there, coupled with whatever you had left after the Arcata attack.” Elsa tapped her foot.
“You didn’t let her heal you when you got here?” I turned on the god of stubbornness. “Tyr, you’re our leader. If something happens to you, we’re all screwed.”
“And also, we like you,” Mia pointed out.
“Thanks for the concern, Brynn,” Tyr said wryly.
“You know what I mean. Stop being a stubborn pig and take your healing like a man.” I stormed up the stairs to Tyr’s office, pausing at the landing to look at the sea of shocked faces. “Oh, like you weren’t all thinking it.”
Mia’s tranquil voice cut through the tension. “Actually, I’m kind of curious about how all of this works. That one after Fenrir happened so fast. Would it be okay if I watched?”
Elsa looked thoughtful. “Emotional healings are private, but Tyr’s not getting one of those. I don’t see any reason you can’t observe a physical healing. It might give y
ou a better understanding of how our systems operate.”
“I’ll whip up a batch of my amazing Swedish pancakes while you lot are getting patched up. Healings, snacks, and sleep should make everything right—at least for tonight. Ja, sötnos?” Henrik shot me a wink.
“There’s very little your pancakes can’t fix,” I admitted begrudgingly. “But let’s do this fast. We need to get back in the field as soon as possible.”
A lot of lives depended on it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I TURNED ON ONE heel and walked through the French doors that marked the barrier between the upstairs landing and Tyr’s office. A massive window took up almost the entire beach-facing wall of the large room, flooding the space with natural light. A leather sectional was cozied against the glass, with a separate foot stool positioned a few feet away. The desk and chair butted against the smaller window, the one facing Freya’s house. A dresser stood on the wall beside the door, boasting hurricane glasses filled with smooth stones and candles, and the door to the en suite bathroom occupied the fourth wall, a jetted tub just visible beyond the frame. A long soak suddenly sounded heavenly.
Maybe tomorrow. First we had to track down our love goddess.
“Mia, take the desk chair and sit in the corner. Tyr, Brynn, the couch is yours. Sit down, feet flat on the floor, and hands on your knees, facing up so I can scan you.” Elsa issued her orders as she strode into the room, a pitcher of water in one hand and her healing box in the other. She set both on the desk and used her magic to open the box, removing two small cups before shifting through ingredients with delicate fingers.
Mia took her seat. Tyr closed the French doors behind him before walking across the room. “You doing all right, Brynn? You’re moodier than usual.”
“Shut up, Tyr!” I dropped into my appointed seat on the couch.
“I think Brynn might benefit from an emotional healing, as well as a physical one,” Elsa said calmly. “This is a lot to process, and although she’s doing really well managing everything…” She turned to me. “You really are doing brilliantly, love.”
“Uh, thanks?” I crossed my arms.
“All things considered, an overall purification might do a world of good,” Elsa finished.
Having the realm’s High Healer as your in-house nursemaid had its benefits, as we’d seen when she saved Tyr’s life. But it also had major drawbacks. Sometimes I just wanted one of those regular medicinal healings the normal healers gave, not one of Elsa’s full-service hippie-dippy deals.
“I appreciate it, Elsa, I really do. But time’s of the essence, and I really want to get back into the field as soon as possible. Can we table the emotional cleansing until after we get Freya back?” I asked.
“Brynn.” The corners of Elsa’s mouth turned down. “Your energy’s totally closed off.”
“Sorry, Elsa.” I was. She was one of the sweetest goddesses in Asgard, and none of this was her fault. “Long day.”
“Long life,” she pointed out.
“You can say that again,” Tyr muttered.
“And an emotional cleansing won’t be effective if you’re not open to it, so maybe waiting a few more days might not be a bad thing. But when you’re ready, I want you to let me know so I can effectuate the closure you need on this.”
“Thanks.” With everything else going on, I wasn’t ready to go there.
“So, how exactly does all of this work?” Mia craned her neck from her spot at the desk. She’d dug a pencil and paper out of the drawer and was poised to take notes.
Typical Mia.
Elsa turned from her healing kit and walked to Tyr. “We do things a little differently in Asgard. You mortals like to compartmentalize your systems. You see a medical doctor for a physical injury, a religious leader for a spiritual ailment, and you more or less neglect your energetic systems entirely. But where we’re from, we recognize the entire being—physical, spiritual, and energetic—as one entity. And a weakness in one area can lead to an injury to the whole. Does that make sense?”
“Kind of.” Mia looked up from her note taking. “Y’all take a holistic approach to medicine.”
“More of an integrative approach,” Elsa corrected. “Because we learn to command our energy from an early age, we’re able to create somewhat of a bubble around ourselves. The bubble keeps us from co-mingling our energetic spheres, and maintains the purity and invincibility of our corporeal form. You call it immortality; we call it energy medicine.”
“Fascinating.” Mia’s pencil scribbled furiously.
“But sometimes we drop our guard,” Elsa continued. “We let our bubbles slip; we release our energy and forget to call it back; we allow someone’s energy to enter into our space. That’s when we get injured. That’s when real damage can occur.”
“Hold on. I thought Tyr was bleeding because a dragon bit him.” Mia looked confused.
“That’s part of it.” Elsa knelt at Tyr’s side, and took his palm between her hands. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and exhaled slowly. Then she waited.
In the meantime, Mia looked like she might jump out of her chair. Her eyes darted to me, and I held up one finger, signaling for her to wait. Elsa needed to focus while she assessed Tyr’s wounds.
“Good. These injuries are purely physical. Tyr, you’re suffering from a basic dark magic malady. What happened with the dragon?” Elsa asked.
“Its head nicked me with a fang on descent after I decapitated it.” Tyr shrugged.
“Oh my god!” Mia paled.
“It happens.” I shrugged. “Tyr can take a dragon fang.”
“He can,” Elsa assured Mia. “Tyr’s wound is an example of an unavoidable injury—if an Asgardian is struck by an object laced with dark magic—a jotun spear, or a dragon’s tooth—”
“Or a homicidal wolf?” Mia interjected.
“Exactly. Dark magic compromises our self-healing ability. Thankfully, I’ve got a prescription for that.”
“Like a medicine?” Mia asked.
“Kind of,” Elsa agreed. “Watch, Mia. Tyr, close your eyes.”
Tyr did as instructed, leaning against the back of the couch and stretching out his legs. “Give me your worst, sis.”
Elsa held out her hands and ran them over Tyr’s body without touching him. She paused over his leg and his stomach, where his clothing was stained with blood. Elsa furrowed her brow, then placed one palm a few inches above his thigh, and the other over his belly button. She drew a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, then moved her hands in a slow figure-eight pattern. She continued the motion, drawing her palms up slowly with each cycle until her hands were level with her shoulders. I knew from experience she’d just taken all the dark energy out of Tyr’s body. I also knew from experience it hurt like Mother Frigga. But Tyr didn’t flinch. In fact, it was entirely possible he’d fallen asleep.
Show-off.
When Elsa’s arms were at ninety degrees to her torso, she flicked her fingers, as if she was whisking away a pesky fly, not banishing dark energy to the tenth realm.
Double show-off.
With the darkness removed, Elsa took a clear crystal from her box and rubbed it between her palms, set it down, and brought her hands back to Tyr’s injuries. She took a breath and pushed healing energy into the wounds. The trickle of blood stopped immediately, as Tyr’s stomach and thigh began to heal themselves.
I snuck a glance at Mia. She looked like she’d just walked in on a herd of baby pegasuses learning to fly. She was equal parts shock and awe as her orderly mind struggled to process what she saw. I got it; if I hadn’t been born into it, it would be hard to believe this kind of healing was possible. It certainly defied the mortal science Mia grew up on.
Life with us definitely involved a steep learning curve.
Elsa cleared her throat and pulled two vials out of her healing kit. With the physical portion of her task complete, she could attend to Tyr’s energetic needs.
“These are botanical extracts.” E
lsa held up the vials so Mia could see. “Both human and Asgardian bodies are comprised mostly of water, and plant cells can manipulate the water’s energy. I have my junior healers locate plants containing specific frequencies—one plant’s cells might minimize anxiety, another can improve focus—you get the idea. My juniors bring the plants to me and I distill their essences. Right now, I’m going to administer some pine and red chestnut to your boyfriend.”
“Again with the pine?” Tyr groaned.
“When you learn to let go of your guilt, I’ll take you off the pine. The red chestnut, I think, you’d better just get used to. I don’t see you not worrying any time soon. Now open your mouth,” Elsa ordered. Tyr did, and she placed two drops from each of the vials underneath his tongue.
“Are we finished?” Tyr murmured after he’d swallowed.
“You are. Now, lie there and regenerate. Calmly,” Elsa instructed. Tyr became the picture of relaxation.
While Mia scribbled furiously on her paper, Elsa stepped to my side. “May I?” she asked, and I nodded. She took my hand between hers and closed her eyes. I did the same, opening myself up to her energy. Things would go a lot faster if I dropped my walls.
Defenses down.
“Ouch,” Elsa clucked, as I let her see my worst.
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
“What’s happening?” Mia asked.
“Brynn’s physical ailment was caused by an energetic deficiency. Would you please tell Mia what happened in Muspelheim?” Elsa asked.
“Henrik and I were fighting giants, and one landed on my leg after I killed him. Crushed it.” I shrugged.
Mia cringed.
“Now the body of a fire giant, in and of itself, is not laced with dark magic. Its weapons might be, or whatever fire they’re breathing these days might be enchanted. But a corpse shouldn’t have kept Brynn’s leg from healing itself.”
“So why didn’t it?” Mia asked.