by Kris Tualla
“Somewhat.”
She repeated the process two more times. “I think I’ve hit the max. It doesn’t seem to get any clearer.”
Sveyn nodded. “I can make out the words, because I know what I said. I do not believe I could have otherwise.”
“You can hear words?” Hollis turned to face him. “Other than recognizing your name, all I hear is gibberish.”
He frowned. “Is that so?”
“Like this.” She played the part where Sveyn said, thirty-four? Or should I say nine hundred and eighty, give or take. “I hear tretta feeree, eller skall—blah blah blah—yeller tah.”
“Yes. Exactly,” he said. “Thirty-four, or should I say nine hundred and eighty, give or take.”
Hollis shook her head. “Are we listening to the same thing? How does ‘tretta feeree’ sound like thirty-four?”
Sveyn looked at her like she just asked how he knew the sky was blue. “How does thirty-four not sound like thirty-four? I do not understand your question.”
Hollis gasped. Her pulse quickened. “Tretta feeree?”
“Yes. Thirty four.”
Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god.”
His brow plunged. “What is it?”
Hollis’s fingers jerked over her keyboard so stiffly that she had to keep backspacing and retyping to get the address right.
“Google translate. English to Norwegian. Thirty-four, or should I say nine hundred and eighty, give or take.”
Enter.
The words that appeared on the right side of her screen made the situation pretty darn clear, but when she asked the program to speak them the result could not be more obvious. “Trettifire? Eller skal jeg si nittenhundreogåtti, gi eller ta.”
“You’re speaking Norse.” She whirled to face Sveyn. “I hear English, and you hear Norse.”
The Viking’s eyes widened. “You asked about my language once before. You said I was speaking English.”
“I thought you were.” Hollis stared at the apparition. “This must be how everyone you manifest to understands you. They hear their own language in their accustomed form.”
“And I am speaking my own language?” Sveyn scuttled his hands through his hair. “I had no idea anything like this was possible.”
Hollis turned back to her laptop. She saved the final version of the audio file and closed out of the program. When she returned her laptop to her briefcase, her hands were shaking.
“I thought just being able to see you was the weirdest thing I ever experienced,” she said softly. “But it just keeps getting weirder.”
She stood and walked into her kitchen, selecting a bottle of merlot from the wine rack on her counter. She opened it, poured a generous glass, and trudged back to the living room couch and her cooled supper.
“But I heard you speak Norwegian once—remember?” she reminded him. “When you were trying to prove that I wasn’t imagining you?”
Sveyn sat next to her. “Yes. I do.”
“Can you do that again? Speak Norwegian to me?”
He tilted his head, his eyes questioning. “Kanskje jeg trenger å konsentrere. Som når jeg passerer gjennom faste gjenstander.”
Unexpected and inexplicable relief calmed her. “Yes! What did you say?”
Sveyn’s brow twitched. “I said, perhaps I need to concentrate. Like when I pass through solid objects.”
“That must be it.” Hollis took a hefty gulp of the merlot. “Does it work the other way? Can you hear my English?”
“Ask me again. Slowly.”
She pinned her gaze on his. “Can you hear my English?”
He leaned away from her. “Yes. I can. It is similar to Norsk, but different.”
A soft smile spread Hollis’s cheeks. “We have learned something new tonight, Viking.”
“Yes, we have.” His smile was more tenuous than hers. “I thought I knew everything about my particular situation that was knowable. It is clear that I was wrong.”
“Could your situation be changing?” she wondered aloud. “Now that you have manifested to your first woman—and had the audacity to fall in love with her.”
Sveyn seemed to blush. “Obviously, I am the last person born on this earth to claim that anything is impossible.”
Hollis ate another garlic knot—which was just as delicious cool—then sipped her wine. Warring thoughts and their ramifications sparred back and forth in her mind while she waited patiently for a winner to triumph.
“I think,” she began, once the victor emerged. “That we should allow you to be proven after all.”
The Viking’s expression thundered his surprise. “Do you?”
Hollis pointed at Sveyn with a slice of still-warm pizza. “Yes. Because I think we—or you, more accurately—can control how much they experience of your presence.”
“Because Sage’s readings dropped off once I moved away from his machine?” He nodded slowly, stroking his beard-scruffed jawline. “And your plan would be to limit what they find.”
“Only give them what we are prepared to deal with,” she clarified. “Watch and see how things go.”
Sveyn’s blue eyes softened. “This proof would make you happy.”
Hollis flinched, startled by the kind tone of his words. “You think I’m foolish to want that, don’t you.”
“My presence in your life has been a greater burden to you than to anyone else over these many centuries,” Sveyn said. “I am willing to do what you ask because I care so deeply for you. And if that means allowing these ghost hunters to find me, then that is what we shall do.”
Chapter Seven
Hollis wanted so badly to kiss him. “Thank you.”
The Viking spread his hands. “The consequences will be yours, not mine. But I shall give you as much assistance as I am able.”
Hollis finished the slice of pizza and grabbed another. She had another favor to ask but was suddenly shy about it.
“What is on your mind, Hollis?” Sveyn asked softly.
She felt her cheeks heating. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.” His lips formed a crooked smile. “Because you are quiet and not talking.”
Hollis turned sideways on the couch and crossed her legs. “Remember that night when I asked you to imagine we were um, together, in your home village?”
“Making love on a bed of fur? Yes, I remember it well.” Sveyn’s smile turned sultry. “Do you want me to do that again?”
“Sort of…” Since their discovery that Sveyn’s sexual fantasies became her delightful dreams, Hollis looked forward to his lusty visualizations. The fact that he was able to imagine her in his medieval home had given her a unique view into Viking life. Now… “Would you imagine us in Regency England?”
Sveyn folded his arms. “Because the tea is in six days.”
“Yes.”
“And you want to see what it was really like, not what these JASNA people believe it to be like.” One eyebrow twitched. “I am right, am I not?”
“Only a little,” Hollis deflected truthfully. “But I am curious. Jane Austin’s stories have captured so much collective attention that I want to see how accurate our research is.”
“The museum’s collections manager rises to the top.” Sveyn laughed. “Shall we conjoin with our clothes on?”
Hollis’s eye rounded. “Is that how they did it?”
Sveyn grinned and winked at her. “I suppose you must wait and see.”
*****
Hollis was sitting on a white wooden bench in the shade of an arched trellis which was covered in primrose vines. She didn’t know how she knew they were primroses, but she did. Dreams were like that.
She wore the yellow dress from the rental shop with a pair of blue silk-covered slippers. She touched her hair and discovered it was in a loose bun on top of her head. Curling tendrils tickled her cheeks.
A man approached her. He was exceptionally tall. Clean-shaven with his dark blond hair tied back. His deep blue eyes were smiling at her.
“I’ve never seen you without hair or beard,” Hollis said. “Or in different clothing.”
“Do you care for it?” he asked. He did a slow turn so Hollis could examine the fitted dark green jacket that reached his waist in front and dropped to mid-thigh in back. The slim buff-colored trousers which hugged his buttocks were tucked into tall, black, and decidedly non-furry boots.
He faced her again, grinning over a froth of white lace at his throat, and offered his arm. “Will you walk with me, my lady?”
Hollis stood and tucked her arm in his. “What will you show me?”
“Everything.”
Buildings appeared and expanded. Clusters of men and women manifested on sudden street corners. Horses clopped by at brisk trots pulling a variety of carriages. The sky scudded with gray-bottomed clouds.
Hollis concentrated on details: the cut and color of the women’s dresses, the stance and behavior of the men, the names of the shops and what was in their windows.
“It’s too bad you can’t smell or taste anything,” she said as they passed a pastry shop. “Those look amazing.”
Sveyn leaned over and nuzzled her neck. “I smell you. And soon I shall taste you as well.”
Hollis looked up at him, surprised. “Is that true?”
The Viking gave her a look that zinged right to her womb. “I have a very good imagination.”
They turned a corner and all of the buildings and people disappeared. A few steps farther and they were in a fairy circle—an opening in a grove of young trees. A blanket was spread on the thick grass. A basket rested to one side, with a loaf of bread and bottle of wine visible.
“Are we going to eat first?” Please say no.
“No.”
In less time than was actually possible, Hollis was stripped of everything but her chemise. Sveyn was naked.
“Why this?” she asked tugging on the thin fabric.
“So I can do this.” Sveyn laid his hands on her shoulders and slid the straps down her arms. His lips trailed after the fabric, leaving a searing path down her body.
Hollis gripped his head. She was already aroused beyond believability. She assumed the swiftness was aided by Sveyn’s ‘very good’ imagination as well.
Sveyn straightened and took her in his thickly-muscled arms. His tongue plunged into her mouth and she answered the challenge. He lifted her without effort and she wrapped her legs around his hips.
He was inside her without hesitation, filling her with intense pleasure, and moving with urgency. Her finish came far too swiftly.
“Don’t wake up,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to…”
Sveyn lowered her to the blanket. He kissed her neck, her breasts, her belly, and then—
Hollis moaned as the heat of his mouth covered her still sensitive mound. Her pleasure surged anew, carrying her to even more dizzying heights.
He tasted her very well, indeed.
Hollis opened her eyes, determined to memorize every detail of the world Sveyn created. Young trees’ leaves were turned to neon green by the sun behind them. Aromatic grasses formed a cushioned mattress below. A caressing breeze loosened more wisps from her unruly hair.
With a gasp, she arched her back and gave in to Sveyn’s delicious attentions.
She awoke after her second shattering orgasm. She was panting and her sheets were damp. Sveyn was on all fours over her, as if he actually possessed a body that could love hers.
“My god, Hollis…” he rasped.
She stared at him with wide eyes as her breathing slowed. “What?”
“I—I cannot say. But when I imagined I was in you—I do not have words to describe what I imagined that I felt…” He turned to the side and dropped onto the mattress which, of course, did not jostle under him. “I truly remembered what it felt like to be inside a woman. The memory was never so real in all this time.”
Hollis ached to hold him close, to feel his masculine strength and solidity in this world, not only the nether one. She turned on her side. “I’m sure that’s because I’m a living woman who can interact with you.”
“Yes.” He covered his face with his hands and pulled a huge breathless sigh. “Did you see what you wanted to see?”
“I saw you, Sveyn. No beard. Hair tied back. Different clothing.” Her heart still thrummed in her chest. “You’re an incredibly handsome and desirable man in any era.”
“Desirable?” He lifted his hands away from his face and turned to her. “Can men be desirable?”
“Of course they can. We women desire men, like men desire women.” Hollis huffed a little chuckle. “Only we’re pickier, generally speaking. We don’t dock at just any port, if you get my meaning.”
Sveyn cracked a crooked smile. “As a seasoned sailor I do get your meaning and quite clearly.”
Hollis stretched, the last glow of pleasure slowly fading from her depths. “I need to go back to sleep or I’ll be useless tomorrow and without any believable explanation for it.”
She turned over to look at the clock. Just past one. Not bad.
“Do you want me to change the channel on the TV first?” She yawned as she readjusted her pillow.
“No. It is fine.” The Viking made no move toward returning to the living room.
Hollis put up her palm so that Sveyn would place his against it. The familiar tingle snaked up her wrist. “Thank you.”
“Sleep well, my love.”
When he still didn’t move, Hollis asked, “Are you going to watch TV?”
“Later.” He smiled softly. “I want to lie with you for a while, if you have no objections.”
Hollis sighed happily and closed her eyes. “None at all.”
Tuesday
November 24
“I got my dress, Stevie. And I actually like it.”
Hollis and the petite registrar walked across the museum lobby toward the new wing. Hollis felt heat tighten her cheeks as the mental image of her wearing the dress in Sveyn’s fantasy prompted several erotic recollections.
Stevie stopped walking. “You’re blushing. Why?”
Ah, crap.
Say something true. “I feel pretty in it.”
“You are stunning in it, Hollis,” Sveyn murmured in her ear. “Wait until they see.”
His words were not helping the blushing situation one bit.
Stevie’s resultant smile displayed a very clear I-told-you-so. “Now you’ll understand why this is so much fun.” She started walking again. “In the twenty-first century we don’t get the chance to be elegant and formal the way Jane Austin did.”
“No, we don’t,” Hollis admitted. “I’ll give you that.”
They were one week from the opening of the Kensington wing and things were coming together slowly—but at least they were coming together. Hollis stopped inside the plastic-sheet barrier. “The air-conditioning is on!”
Stevie looked relieved. “Today we need it, but there’s a storm on the way. We might end up using the heat next week.”
“Either way, we’ll be comfortable at last.” Hollis walked around the center wall toward the case in the back holding the Blessing.
Sveyn held back. Though the legend that owning one half drove the owner insane, but owning both halves bestowed immortality was ridiculous to Hollis, she knew the Viking believed it.
So did Everett Sage, apparently.
Hollis shook off the reminder of her abduction and stood in front of the bullet-proof, double-locked case. She frowned. Something was wrong.
“Stevie, come over here. Look at this.”
Her friend walked up to her side and looked into the case. “What the… We didn’t put them that close together.”
“No we didn’t. We had at least nine or ten inches between them and they were not in line with each other.”
Sveyn growled—he was now looking over her shoulder with a very disturbed expression. “This is bad, Hollis.”
“That looks more like six or seven inches,
” Stevie estimated. “How did that happen?”
Hollis felt for her key. “Who has access to this case besides me and Miranda?”
Stevie regarded her with wide eyes. “I don’t know.”
Hollis moved around to the back of the case and punched in the code. After the light turned green she inserted the key and opened the lock.
“I’m putting them back where they belong,” she said as she opened the case.
“You don’t have gloves on!” Sveyn barked.
“Screw the gloves,” Hollis grumbled.
“Hollis!”
“Hush!”
“I didn’t say anything, Hollis.” Stevie looked over her shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”
Crapola. “No one.”
Sveyn threw his hands up and stomped to the other side of the room.
Stevie glanced in his direction and shuddered. “He’s here, isn’t he? Your guardian angel?”
Hollis said nothing. She simply moved the halves of the icon back to their original places. Jaw clenched, she lowered the lid on the case and double-locked it again.
Stevie laid a hand on Hollis’s arm. “I won’t think you’re crazy. I promise.”
Hollis gazed across the acrylic case at her friend. “Stevie, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Tell me this, at least: is there a spirit of some sort following you?”
Hollis hesitated. The desire to be honest with her co-worker overwhelmed her. Besides that, she and Sveyn agreed last night that he could be marginally proved without putting Hollis in danger.
Here goes.
She drew a deep breath. “Yes.”
As confident as Stevie was a moment ago, now the blood drained from her face. “Did he just walk past me?”
Hollis nodded.
“Is he evil?”
“No!” Hollis almost laughed. “He is the opposite of evil.”
“Thank you for that, at least,” Sveyn said from across the room.
“How, I mean, when—” Words failed the normally talkative blonde.
“He just appeared one day.” Hollis swallowed the lump that suddenly lodged in her throat. “And one day he’ll disappear, I expect.”