Dead Radiance

by Ayer, T. G.

  I ran to the door, stabbed the doorbell with one stiffened finger and sprang back to the shadow of the tree. Inside the darkened house the doorbell chimed, a hollow echo that was a bit on the spooky side. Soon Ms. Custer cracked open the door, staring outside, bleary-eyed and perplexed.

  "Mom," I whispered, drawing her attention. Her eyes widened as she saw me, and a smile stretched across her face. A smile that died a quick death. At first, I assumed it was Hugin she'd seen. I'd gotten used to the constant weight of the bird on my shoulder. But her eyes settled instead on Aidan beside me. Concern wrinkled her face. I nodded toward the side of the house, pointing a curved hand in the direction of the backyard. She silently mouthed the word "okay" and closed the door, flicking the light off.

  We shuffled in the shadows, keeping to the edges of the house, and made it around to the back without incident. The door opened to reveal Ms. Custer, broom in hand, looking very much like my own personal avenging angel. She stared Aidan down. He hesitated then entered, passing her slowly, having the grace to flush a decent shade of red.

  She didn't switch on any lights. Just put the kettle on and drew out cups and plates for tea and cake. The light from the street lamp outside cast a yellow glow through the large windows, enough light for us to get by. The cups and spoons clanked and clattered softly until at last Ms. Custer sat before us, staring from my face to Aidan's.

  "What's going on?" she asked, her voice steady. Too steady. Her eyes flicked toward the raven and then back to me.

  "We need a place to stay," I said.

  "How long?"

  Aidan answered, and I wished he hadn't. "Just tonight. We’ll be gone tomorrow," he said. The look Ms. Custer sent him was blistering enough to fry an egg on his forehead.

  "You have a lot of explaining to do, young man." She was angry but she still kept her voice low, controlled.

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Custer. I know I deceived you. All of you." He looked at me, apologetic, shame-faced, still flushing.

  I held my tongue, knowing if I spoke, all that would come out of my mouth was snark. I did plan to tell him how I felt. Soon. But now, sitting in the dark at Ms. Custer's kitchen table, whispering secrets about places and people that just shouldn't exist . . . well, now was not the best time.

  I turned to Ms. Custer, who was the one who really needed an explanation. Unsure of how much I should say, I glanced at Hugin, wondering if I should ask his advice, but he avoided my eyes and just stared at Ms. Custer, a message to say I was on my own. Probably not a big enough issue for him to assist with. I decided winging it was my only option.

  I took a deep breath and quickly ran through what happened since I'd left her more than a week ago: how Aidan had been left for dead by the stream and how I'd retrieved him, and how we'd been sent back to find the rest of the necklace. I left out the part in which the unpredictable goddess Freya had given me a deadline and Aidan's life hung in the balance.

  "Okay." She sipped her tea and stared at its contents as if about to read tealeaves.

  The silence was potentially damning.

  "If I didn't trust you, Bryn, and if you didn't have a big ol' raven on your shoulder, I'm not sure I'd believe any of this," she said at last. "As long as you stay and leave without drawing attention to yourselves, it's fine by me. But remember, either of you do anything to endanger my kids, and you are out. They don't need any more upsets."

  My heart tightened and I asked softly, "How are they?"

  "They miss all three of you."

  "I wish it could have been different," I said.

  And it was the truth. It had been so easy to crave a new life, but when you're handed one straight from ancient mythology, it's a lot harder than just saying thank you and moving on. But given the chance to have things back to the way they were before, I would refuse. New possibilities had opened up for me. The hole left inside me after Joshua's death was easier to bear knowing he was still alive and meant for better things. Meant to make a difference to Midgard in the end. Brody and Aimee too. The part of me that had suffered in enforced silence ever since I'd begun to see the auras no longer suffered. I no longer felt guilty for being unable to stop all those people from dying.

  "At least you're still alive." Ms. Custer smiled brightly, clearly searching for the silver lining in our dark and crazy story. I couldn't respond to her without wanting to cry.

  Aidan's days were numbered and he didn't know it. And who knew whether Freya would be happy with just taking his life as punishment if I didn't bring her Brisingamen?

  "Well, you can have your old rooms back, just keep the blinds down and drapes closed." With that, she rose, rinsed her cup and saucer and placed them on the draining board. She stared out the window at the waning moon, just days past full. Did she see a parallel between that bright white disk and our farfetched tale? She sighed, then said goodnight and went up to bed.

  The kitchen door swung back and forth, and I watched her retreating figure through the gap each time it swung into the dining room beyond. At last the door stilled and I looked back at the shining moon. I had a week. That moon's progress would mark the number of days left before I had to return with the necklace. The number of days left of Aidan's life.

  ***

  Uneasy dreams haunted my sleep, and from the looks of Aidan the following morning, he'd been doomed to a similar fate. Dark bruises curved beneath red-rimmed eyes. I'd waited to rise until Izzy and Simon had left for school. It didn't seem right to disturb their routine when I planned on heading out this very morning. Unsure of when we would return, I didn't want to excite the kids, get them thinking we might be sticking around.

  Aidan's actions mirrored mine, but he had no idea of the real urgency of this mission. We had breakfast in the kitchen, with Ms. Custer bustling about and serving pancakes and coffee. Hugin perched atop an empty chair while I ate. It was strange. I hadn't spent long in Asgard and yet I'd gotten so used to the routine of the day. Even pancakes tasted different. And Aidan's expression said he'd noticed it too.

  "You will want your book then?" Ms. Custer asked. I looked up, expecting her to be speaking to Aidan, but my eyes met hers as she deliberately ignored his right of possession.

  I nodded and followed her, grabbing the last pancake from my plate, trailing her upstairs to her nightstand. She fiddled with a small panel, then pulled it forward to reveal a secret drawer. The hiding place was so ingenious that the investigators had missed it when they'd searched the house. She placed it in my hands.

  "I read some of it," she said, surprising me "You've inherited a bit of a job, my dear." Then she hugged me tight, and I held on as hard as I could. "Be safe, Bryn. Don't do anything stupid. okay?"

  Soon after, we said goodbye and headed out the back way, taking the tree-lined pathways behind the houses and into the woods. Hugin returned to my shoulder, his weight now comfortable and familiar. Hidden beneath the trees, we paused to get our bearings. On the other side of the hill stood a small group of shops—a tourist stop for hunters and trampers on their way into the mountains.

  "I'll go down," Aidan said. "Buy a cell phone. Should take me ten minutes tops. Stay right here."

  I bristled. He seemed to think he was in charge. But just when I was ready to tell him where to get off, guilt raised its ugly head again and laughed at me. And I shut my mouth. It didn't matter. Let him take the lead. I owed him that much. Besides, we were most certainly not in a battle of wills. I had nothing to prove. Aidan, on the other hand, still had to prove his loyalty.

  I stood in the shadow of a large tree and watched him slide down the steep incline toward the road. He crossed to the curio shop and emerged minutes later bearing a small bag. The trip up the hillside took twice as long, and only when he was standing beside me, tearing the plastic off a disposable cellphone, did I let go of my breath.

  He rang the bus company, checking to see if we were near any bus routes. We had to avoid public places, where Aidan would be spotted, a dead man still alive, or where I'd be seen,
probably with that APB still out on me. A shoulder-borne raven would no doubt attract unwelcome attention, too. Unfortunately, the nearest route went right through the center of the town, so we had to scratch the bus idea.

  "Too bad you can't fly," Aidan quipped. His eyes darted to Hugin and back, then widened. "Can you fly?"

  "No. I haven't learned that yet, and I'm not so sure I want to. Besides, we would draw a certain amount of attention, you know—a winged woman flying through the air carrying a guy."

  Aidan grinned, and in that second I was reminded why I'd let him into my heart so quickly. That cheeky grin and those smiling eyes. I smiled back, and for that moment, everything was right with the world. It would all work out. I had absolutely nothing to worry about. Until he blinked and I blinked and the moment was gone.

  "What do we do now?" I said.

  "We need a ride out of this town. And a ride under the radar." When I frowned, he added, "We can't be traced. They'll be watching Craven for any suspicious activity in the area, so we can’t make a move while it’s light."

  "Guess we have a good wait ahead of us, then?" The sun threw tepid warmth on our head. I raised an eyebrow, wondering where we could possibly hide until nightfall.

  "Yes, ma’am. Let me lead you to your lodgings." Aidan beckoned me with a flourish of his hand, leading me into a dense stand of trees. In this isolated part of town we were pretty safe, so I settled on the ground, my seat a cushion of thick autumn leaves.

  Along with the cellphone, Aidan had bought a tiny bag of Doritos. He popped the bag and took a handful, then tossed the rest to me. "Bon appétit."

  To pass the time, I pulled the leather volume out of my bag. Aidan didn't react. I ignored him, reading and snacking until he fell into a deep sleep. The sun dropped behind the trees, and darkness drew long shadows over the sleepy town. I let him rest, wondering how long it would take for Freya’s curse to begin to wear him down.

  He woke after midnight to the metallic tune of the alarm on his cellphone. Guess he had the forethought to set an alarm. He cleared his throat. "We’d better see about a car, then."

  "So how do we get—" I started to say. Then an idea struck me. One that filled me with guilt, but ultimately it was our best option. The thought of doing something illegal appalled me, but this did count as desperate times.

  "Bryn?" Aidan nudged me.

  "Lots of kids in the area have cars or bikes they don't use too often."

  He chuckled. "My, my, Bryn. That's not the most legal thought you've ever had, is it?"

  I flushed, still shocked and now embarrassed. Hugin shifted his feet, as if sharing my unease.

  "Not a bad idea though," Aidan said. "It might be our ticket out of Craven."

  "Or we could ask Ms. Custer for her car?" I backed away from the thought of stealing a vehicle, wishing I'd never even mentioned it.

  "No, they'd be watching her car. We want to avoid drawing any attention to Ms. Custer. Wait here. Watch for me." He pointed down at the roadside.

  I knew he was going to jack a car. It had been my idea, and though I was relieved he wanted to spare me the experience, I couldn't let him go alone. This was my burden to bear and he was just caught up in Freya's little power play.

  I called after him, whispering as loud as I could, "Wait. Aidan, hold on."

  He turned and watched me catch up with a frown furrowing his clean brow. A memory of the bullet wound that had blasted his forehead open and marred that perfect skin triggered a shudder.

  "I'm coming with you," I said. "This is my problem too."

  "Be my guest. I just thought I'd save you the trouble."

  I got you into this mess, no way am I letting you shoulder all the responsibility.

  We fell into step beside each other and walked back to the suburb, silence hanging over us. Voices traveled farther at night, and we couldn't trust that we were passing through the area unobserved. Two a.m. in the morning and the homes were all dark. Aidan made a move to walk down the first driveway.

  "No. That's Mr. Ralston's property," I whispered. "He's got one of those really vicious dogs. Rottweiler or something."

  "Good thing you came along, then." He smiled. "So who doesn't have vicious, man-eating dogs?"

  I nodded at a house across the road. Pete's house. Certainly would be fitting if it were his vehicle we jacked. We crept round back, keeping to the shadows again. Thankfully, huge, leafy trees filled Pete's garden and yard. The garage door was unlocked. I eased it open, and a strip of moonlight lit the inside of the garage, reaching silvery fingers as far as the driver's side of Pete's classic Lincoln Continental. Most of the kids in Craven had classics, probably handed down through the decades.

  But my thoughts weren't on the beautiful car. My mind raced back among the shadows on the frozen path, with my cheek on fire and my abdomen in agony. My jaw was rigid. Images of Pete's attack ran through my head. All I could think about was lashing out at something, and the car seemed the most suitable option.

  Aidan's voice and a soft squawk from Hugin broke the trance.

  "You okay? You look upset. And about to punch something." His words held a smile, which oddly enough didn't anger me. It lightened my mood a bit. I unclenched my fist and leaned into the open window, scrabbling around the ignition for keys. Nothing.

  "Looking for this?" Aidan indicated a rack of keys. He fished through them and withdrew one. I hoped it was the right one. We'd rather not wake Pete's family, so we'd have to roll the car out onto the drive and then onto the road before starting the engine.

  The garage door was an ancient one: two large doors, which opened wide. I hadn't thought about what we'd do if it had been an automatic door. Way too noisy. We would have had to look for an easier car to steal.

  I unhitched the door and eased one side open, going slowly and hoping it didn't creak. It didn't. Relieved, I kicked a brick in front of it and did the same with the other door.

  Aidan got in, set the gear to neutral and got back out, holding onto the door, ready to push. "Get behind," he whispered.

  I wondered who died and made Aidan the boss. Then I wanted to giggle. He'd died and I'd made him the boss. The joke was on me.

  I did as he asked, and pushed.

  The car rolled smoothly forward. We steered to the end of the drive, turned into the road and pushed it all the way to the corner, three houses from Pete's.

  I thought about the garage door standing wide open like a gaping jaw. Pete was in for a surprise tomorrow morning. I'd never pegged myself as vindictive, and my little trip to Asgard had almost made me forget Pete's attack. But back here in Craven, staring at his car, the memory of that day seeped into my mind, crawling all the way into my bones. Shivers rippled through me. I jumped into the car.

  Hugin flapped wildly, in such a crazed frenzy that I was afraid he'd either peck out my eye or scratch me with his sharp little talons. I let him fly out and watched as he ascended and circled above the car. Shaking my head, I shut the door as quietly as I could. The click of the lock echoed up and down the empty street. I shuddered, sure the cops would be on our tail in the next ten seconds.

  Aidan jumped in and stabbed the key into the ignition. I held a breath and sent a prayer up to Odin. I breathed again only when the engine turned. It growled loudly and then settled into a low purr, waiting for Aidan to set it in motion. We drove off, leaving the sleeping neighborhood behind while I enjoyed imagining Pete's reaction when he discovered his car was gone.

  Chapter 33

  "So what's the plan? Where are we going?" The cracked blue leather squeaked with every move we made. Pete didn't take good care of his leather seats. The interior of the Lincoln was otherwise immaculate, even though it was probably made in the late sixties. They made cars well in the old days.

  "Washington," said Aidan, tracing the soft blue leather of the huge steering wheel.

  "State or DC?" I asked the dumb question even though it was clear we were on the old Route 66, heading east.

  He raise
d an eyebrow. "DC. Rockville, Maryland, to be specific. The national hub of human gene research. We need to make a quick stop at the institute on the way to New York."

  "The institute?"

  My unhappy expression elicited a gravelly laugh. "Marlowe Institute of Genetic Science," he said.

  I got the impression he'd said the full name just for effect. I shivered, remembering the Institute's emblem imprinted on the lab reports. The place where both our fathers had worked, competed and apparently hated each other enough for one of them to try to kill the other's daughter.

  "I thought you said we have to stay under the radar? I'm not sure going into the lion's den is the best course of action when the point is to avoid said lion," I said drily, staring straight ahead to study the dark Missouri night. I tried to stick my elbow on the low armrest, unsuccessfully.

  "They have important records stored in their system. We'll have to risk it."

  "How will we get in?" I stretched out, enjoying the legroom and marveling at my lack of tiredness. The chainmail chinked as I moved, reminding me that we were still clothed in our Asgard getup.

  "I have a security pass."

  I snorted. "You've been dead for a while. Don't you think they'd have deactivated your card by now?"

  "I have my father's card."

  "Oh." I looked at him, unsettled by the deadness of his voice, by the shadow that crossed his face. He'd been doing his father's bidding when he came to Craven, but the coldness in his voice when he mentioned his father sent a creeping shudder up my spine. "Well, I guess that will help. So, he's a genetic scientist, huh? Small world, hey? What exactly does he do at the institute?"

  "He's in charge. Took over your father's role when he passed away." Aidan threw me a quick, apologetic glance before concentrating on the road again. Not that he needed to concentrate all that much. The road ahead was easy, just point and drive.

  "Hey," Aidan said, "can that bird of yours keep up with us?" He squinted up at the sky.