Winter Fire

by Laurie Dubay

“I just…I don’t know what you want.”

  “What I want?”

  “What you expect.”

  “I don’t –“

  “I mean, like now, we’re here and I don’t – “

  “I don’t expect anything. Jenna, I just –“

  “I just don’t want you to think –“

  “Think what?”

  “That I’m like them. That I’m –“

  “Like who? That you’re –“

  “Like her.”

  “Who?”

  “Brianna.”

  He stared.

  I huffed. “I don’t want you to think that I’m like her.”

  “How could I possibly think that? You have nothing in common.”

  “You.”

  “What?”

  “We have you in common.”

  “What?” He scrubbed at his hair.

  “You slept with her, didn’t you?”

  He froze with his hand on top of his head. After a few seconds, he closed his eyes and exhaled. “Did she tell you that today?”

  “I was hoping she was lying.”

  His jaw clenched. “Sweet girl.”

  “You must have thought so at some point.”

  “Don’t do that.” He opened his eyes. “It wasn’t like that. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “Did any of them?” I said to the carpet. “How many Briannas have there been?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Well?” I said.

  “Please don’t ask me that.”

  “That many?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t the same person then.”

  “You’re different now than you were a few weeks ago?”

  “Yes.”

  I lifted my arms and dropped them, looked up at him.

  “I’ve been different since the day I met you, Jenna,” he said. “That’s not my life anymore. So it doesn’t matter how many Briannas there were. What matters is that there’s only one you. I don’t want to lose you.”

  The idea of this somehow made everything else seem insignificant, which was exactly the kind of pitfall my mother was so determined that I avoid. Stepping around him, I went to the foot of his bed and dropped down on the mattress, let my hands fall into my lap. He followed and sat beside me, careful to leave a space between us.

  “I don’t expect anything of you,” he said quietly.

  I looked down at my hands, feeling stupid in the wake of my pettiness and insecurity.

  “This is exactly what she wanted,” I said.

  “Yep.” He reached over and wove his fingers into mine. When I looked up at him, he smirked. “Please don’t let her ruin this.”

  At first I didn’t understand his expression, and then I realized he was using my own words. It was what I had said about Tyler at Ringsaker. I laughed and pushed him backward. He pulled me down with him, cinched his arms around me and looked into my eyes.

  “You know what?” He said.

  “What?”

  “I’d trade every single day I’ve lived for just one day with you.”

  “Every day you’ve lived on the earth?” I asked, baiting him.

  “Every day.” He said. “Ever.”

  Chapter 19

  I heard the rumbling in my sleep before I felt it, but even then, the warmth of Bren’s body next to mine, the safety of his arms around me, the sound of his heartbeat as I lie against his chest kept me firmly tethered to my dream world. He must have ignored it too, because only after the stack of CDs against the wall crashed to the floor did we push ourselves up and gaze around, the world shuddering beneath us, and realize we were looking at an earthquake.

  The door swung open and Frey stood on the threshold, staring at Bren with wide eyes.

  “Not cool.” He said.

  “Is it natural?” Bren yelled over the clatter.

  “Doubt it.”

  “Come on.” Bren grabbed my hand and pulled me off the bed, and the three of us ran through the apartment and out the door. Outside, Bren and Frey stopped for a moment to look around, but there was no one in sight, so we ran over the bridge and past the lodge along the evergreens, Bren with a steady hold on my arm to keep me from falling. We stopped at the base of the deck, where the last few people were still running for cover as the ground shook on.

  It was only a moment before three yellow jackets appeared from the right, getting brighter much too fast, even from my vibrating perspective. Then Frieda, Dag, and Val surrounded us, peering off in every direction as if the source of the quake could be spotted.

  “Are you alright?” Frieda reached behind her and gave my hand a brief squeeze as she scanned the top of the bunny hill.

  “Fine,” I said. “My mother…”

  “She’s fine.” But the voice was not Frieda’s. I looked behind me to face Skye, her gaze brewing with blue-violet thunderheads. “She’s underneath a conference table with Mr. Neil and some others.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded once and moved behind Frey, turning her back to him so that she faced out toward Ringsaker.

  “Let’s go up,” Frey said, motioning toward Skye’s watch. “Find out what the hell’s going on.”

  “It may not be safe now,” Val said.

  “If it isn’t, then it’s not safe anywhere.” Frey’s impatient voice carried over the noise. “Let’s go.”

  “We’ve just come from there, nothing has changed,” Dag said.

  “Things have escalated.” Frey’s eyes were wild. Dag lifted a hand to his shoulder, but he shook it off. “Perhaps now Sif will be more forthcoming…”

  “Forthcoming?” Bren spun on him, his face hard as stone, his fingers pressing into my arm. “Are you saying she lied to us?”

  “Stop it,” Frieda yelled. “This is not the time.” But they were fuming, gazes locked. I put my hand on Bren’s shoulder, but before I could speak, my eye caught motion on the abandoned mountain above us. Atop a tall, rocky cliff between two black diamond trails, a plume of snow was sweeping through a stand of evergreens, rolling toward us at avalanche speed. As the churning cloud hit the edge of the bluff, it ran over in a rushing fall and crashed against the ground below to kick up in a white fog.

  Out from behind a tall, dark pine slid a figure dressed in metallic brown, a matching motorcycle helmet obscuring his face. He skirted the last two trees in a perfect Z, his poles sweeping the air like divining rods, and headed toward the edifice. My breath caught in my throat. I watched, unable to make a noise or do anything but stare as he stooped, braced one quick hand on the ledge and flipped in the air, his body still, his skis crossed as he neatly tumbled over himself to straighten again and ride the fall to its misty bottom. He disappeared for a few seconds before emerging.

  “God,” I said. It was no more than a whisper, but everybody turned to follow my gaze. He was gliding by us now, his skis hissing on the snow, his jacket unzipped a few inches to reveal a triangle of smooth chest. He flipped his visor and, turning backward on his skis to maintain contact, set his dark eyes on each one of us. He regarded me last and held my gaze for a long time, receding fast toward the guest quarters beyond the lodge. As I watched, he raised a pole and pointed it at me, arm outstretched, head lowered to glare out from shadowy depths of lash. Finally, he dropped his arm to his side, threw a glance at Bren, pivoted, and disappeared behind the first building.

  The earth settled.

  When I looked to Bren in the new quiet, he was still staring, jaw clenched and violence in his eyes.

  “Loki.” He said.

  Chapter 20

  “Son of a bitch.” Frey said, breaking out from the center of our loose circle to stare at the fresh ski tracks in the snow.

  “Who was that?” I rubbed at my arms. I’d left my coat back at the apartment and hadn’t noticed the cold until now. Val wrenched his jacket off and handed it to me. I pulled it on, sinking into its oversized warmth.

  “Thanks,” I said, turning back to Bren. “I don
’t understand what’s going on.”

  They were all silent, but Bren’s expression was brooding, hateful. I took a step back, taking in his tense shoulders, his clenched fists, his shallow, rapid breath.

  “Bren?” I tried to make my voice soft, unsure if I wanted to be heard. After a moment, he turned and regarded me with an empty stare. My blood went cold. I shivered as the storm finally cleared from his face. He stepped toward me. I flinched without meaning to and he hesitated for an instant, then pulled me against him.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s okay.”

  Skye crossed her arms and turned away.

  I wanted to see their expressions, to know what was happening, but the look on Bren’s face had filled me with fear. I let him hold me for a few moments before I stepped back.

  “Why is he here?” Frieda said.

  Dag glanced around at all of us, his shoulders broad and hulking. As his eyes narrowed, a dangerous smile curled his lips and made him look fiendish. “What are we waiting for?” He said. “Let’s go find out.”

  “Let’s do it.” Frey stuck out a fist and Dag pounded it.

  Frieda stepped forward and reached out to grab their arms, but Val moved in front of them first. He held up a hand. “It’s what he wants,” he said.

  “It’s an attack,” Dag said. “We’d be fools to think otherwise.”

  Val’s gaze was steady. “Yes. And we’d be fools to react so quickly. Let him come to us.”

  Frey bristled. “He already –“

  “He’s right.” There was a resolve Bren’s voice that made them all stop and turn. “We’ll go back to the apartment. Discuss our options. No one wanders far until we know what’s happening.” At this, he gave Skye a pointed look and did not continue until she made eye contact and surrendered a tiny nod. “Talk to Neil,” he said to Val, “find out what he’s doing about the quake.”

  “He’s shutting down for the night,” Skye told him. She stared at the ground.

  “Fine,” Bren said. “The three of you on shift should check in with him and meet us at home.” He motioned for Skye and Frey to walk ahead of him, then tugged at my hand.

  I pulled back. “I can’t. My mother is probably freaking out right now wondering where I am.” As if to confirm, my phone beeped to let me know I had a text. Then it started to ring.

  “I can’t let you stay here Jenna,” Bren said. “He saw you. It’s not safe.”

  I answered my phone. “I’m okay,” I said, not waiting for my mother to speak. “On my way there now.” I hung up.

  Bren shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving you here.”

  “I can’t tell my mother that I’m ignoring an earthquake to be with you.” I said, waving the phone at him. “She’ll never let me see you again.”

  “This is more serious than that.” His fingers crushed mine. I flinched and he loosened his grip.

  “I have to go. She’s my mother.” As I pulled away I felt an instant distance from him. I froze in place, unable to withdraw any further.

  “I’ll go with her.” Frieda stepped up next to me. “I won’t let anything happen to her, I promise. We’ll figure out something to tell her mom.”

  Bren was quiet for a long time looking from one to the other of us, the struggle changing his face. Finally he nodded. “Don’t let her out of your sight. And if you even think there’s something wrong—“

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll know.” She glanced over her shoulder at Frey. “What about him?”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Frey said.

  She ignored him. When she turned back to Bren, her eyes were pleading.

  “He stays with me.” Bren said. “All the time.”

  Frey scratched at his temple. “Well, my next piss should be interesting.”

  “Promise.” Frieda’s eyes were locked on Bren. He took in a deep breath, peered around Frieda, and gave Frey a hard, fierce glare. “Promise.”

  Frieda turned to Frey. Frey stared at her for a few seconds, then lifted his hands, palms up like he was being robbed. “No screwing around,” he said.

  Bren grabbed me and held me for a moment, then looked down into my face. “Be careful,” he said. When he kissed me, I felt only the helplessness of knowing he wasn’t safe.

  They watched us until we were inside. I looked back from the other side of the glass to meet his gaze once more. Then we went to find my mother.

  She was in the office behind the reception desk with Mr. Neil. He was on the phone and she was righting a small, overturned filing cabinet. They both straightened when we stepped in.

  “Jenna.” My mother crossed the room in a few long strides and took my shoulders, peering down at me. “Are you alright?” She hugged me before I answered.

  “Fine,” I said. “You?”

  “I’m fine. Just a bit of a mess and some scared guests.”

  “This is my friend Frieda,” I said. “She’s an instructor here.”

  “I can see that,” my mother said, gesturing to her jacket. “Hi Frieda. Are you alright?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Frieda smiled.

  Mr. Neil hung up the phone. “No injuries reported yet. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “My uncle is looking to check in with you Mr. Neil,” Frieda said. “We were on our shift. Should I text him to come here?”

  “No, no.” Mr. Neil thought a minute. “Better tell him to meet me in the employee lounge. I think it’s best to direct everybody there. They can check in so we know they’re alright, and then go home for the evening.”

  “I’ll let him know.” Frieda slid her phone out and started pecking at it.

  “Where did you get the jacket?” My mother asked.

  I looked down at myself. I had forgotten I was swimming in Val’s coat. “Oh. I went to see Frieda before her shift and I forgot my coat there. When I got caught outside during the quake, her uncle Val gave me his.”

  “That was nice of him,” my mother said. “He works here too, doesn’t he?” I knew the look on my mother’s face. It was the one that read: I’ll give you two seconds to tell me what I already know.

  “Frieda’s Bren’s cousin.” I said. “Val’s their uncle.”

  My mother nodded and looked at Frieda. “Well, maybe now that you can vouch for the fact that I don’t bite, Bren will come by and say hello.”

  “He will,” Frieda said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  This time, my mother’s smile was genuine. “Jenna, I don’t mind if Frieda stays for a while, if it’s alright with her uncle, but I don’t want you to leave again tonight. Earthquakes can be followed by aftershocks and I want to know where you are.”

  I knew I’d find a way out, but I didn’t want to argue with her while she was still shaken. I changed course instead. “So is Mr. Neil going to close up?”

  She nodded. “But there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and we have to check on each guest and employee. It’s going to be a long night.”

  Frieda and I exchanged a look.

  “Okay,” I said. “I guess we’ll go up to the suite and hang out for a while then.”

  “That’s fine. Frieda, just make sure you let your uncle know where you are.”

  “I will. I’ll tell him now.” Frieda held up her phone.

  “And if there’s an aftershock,” my mother said, “get under the table and hold on.”

  Upstairs, Frieda and I sat peering over the back of the couch as twilight darkened into night on the other side of the window. The slopes were empty except for a few members of ski patrol, meticulously hunting the trees and bushes and banks beneath the lights.

  “Frieda,” I said.

  Her green eyes slid to mine.

  “Who is he?”

  She stared at me for a moment, then lifted her head off of her outstretched arm and sat upright.

  “Loki is a lot of things,” she said. “But mostly he’s a criminal. A dangerous one. He’s been imprisoned in Asgard for a long time. He’s never gained hi
s freedom before the onset of the battle.”

  “The battle. Ragnarok.”

  She nodded.

  “And he’s never been free before then?”

  “Not once he’s been confined. Never.”

  “So what does that mean?” I said. “Does it mean it’s happening? Could it be happening without you?”

  She shook her head. “Everybody who has a role in the battle has to take part. Each fate affects the others.”

  She seemed to draw into herself then, her focus dulling, and I wondered what she had seen of Ragnarok. What it was like for her.

  “Did you fight in the battle?” I asked quietly.

  “No.” She said. “I was responsible for the slain. Quieting their souls, reuniting them with others.” Her expression grew sad and I had a terrible thought.

  “Dag?” I asked. “Did he…” I let the word hang between us.

  Her smile had an ache in it. “Dag was one of the greatest warriors in Asgard. But he was taken away from me before the battle.” She swallowed and turned back toward the window. When she didn’t elaborate, I left it alone. It hurt to see such pain in her eyes, and I wondered if she and Dag had run away so that they could stay together. I thought again of all that Bren had told me about Ragnarok.

  “Bren said you only needed one god to withdraw from the battle in order to stop the cycle. How many of you were a part of it?”

  She turned back to me, my question seeming to clear her thoughts. “We were all a part of it, in a way. I greeted and guided the dead. Skye judged and sentenced the criminals. Val was forbidden from fighting,” she said, grinning, “because he was the most gifted smith in all the worlds. Every great warrior had a weapon or chainmail fashioned by his hand. And if he fought with one of his own? He would have been a terror.” Her eyes flashed.

  I thought of the care with which Val had been filing Bren’s board the day I met him. “He made your boards,” I said.

  Her grin widened, but I felt the smile fall from my own face as I thought of Bren. She hadn’t mentioned him and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what she knew, but she caught my expression and eyed me with gentle regard.

  “Bren’s power runs deep.” She said. “Almost everything else in Asgard is shallow by comparison. If he had taken sides in a battle, there would have been no battle, so the gods did not engage him in such things.” She paused and her shoulders grew tense. “It made him angry to watch ego and vanity destroy us over and over. Sometimes, all of Asgard and beyond shook with his temper.”