Winter Fire

by Laurie Dubay

  My smile fell as I thought about this. About everything that had just happened.

  He tilted his head and waited, then nodded at me to speak.

  “Why is Skye here?” I finally asked. “It is because of you?”

  He smiled, brushed my hair from my shoulder and rested his hand there. “I don’t know. She keeps most of her thoughts to herself.”

  I stared at the snow, knowing the jealousy must be scrawled all over me, but he lifted my chin and fixed his gaze firmly on mine. “But it doesn’t matter. I only see you.”

  He kissed me just as the hail began to slow, and we were us again, apart for a moment from the world unraveling around us.

  “You’ll have to come with us tonight,” he said.

  My stomach turned over. I wasn’t sure I could take another hit today.

  “I shouldn’t,” I said. “If we’re up there too long, I’ll be late in the morning, and…”

  He braced his hands on the sides of my head to stop me from shaking it. “There’s no choice this time. Make an excuse, lie, tell the truth. Or, if you want, we can help your mom believe whatever you need her to, but I need you with me. I’ll be half-crazy worrying about you if you’re not, and I can’t afford to be preoccupied.”

  I thought about it for a moment and decided not to argue. He was right, and I didn’t want to be the cause of anything else going wrong.

  Chapter 25

  We rode under a sky of dingy fleece, the moon a faint glow smothered behind the fabric. Bren’s arms were firm around my waist, our boards barely touching the snow as we made our way toward Ringsaker. Before us, the others spoke to the dark earth in their own way, Frey leaning with the boughs of young trees and riding the ripples, Dag sent back in his fierce wake as he criss-crossed Frieda’s path, endlessly provoking her despite her easy mastery of his taunts. Far in the lead, Skye preferred to cut sharp around the trunks and stones, the ground barely lifting as she gathered her speed from somewhere within. Val rode behind, artfully dodging the currents of ground and snow thrown by the others, righting the trees and rocks as he passed, watching behind him to ensure that only night and the last tremblings of our progress remained.

  I felt the tension as we neared the circle - my own mingled with that of the others. We could not be sure what we would find there. Ahead, I watched the boughs of the looming evergreens lift as Skye approached, and sucked in a nervous breath as we entered, one after the other. Bren tightened his arms around me for a moment and pressed his lips against my temple before letting go so that we could grab up our boards and lean them against a tree.

  In one moment, Ringsaker was a dark, glittering circle with seven shadows moving amid the invisible hiss of a bubbling stream, and in the next Bren raised his palm and a flame rose to raging in the stone ring, washing us all with an amber glow. The stream glittered with firelight, the stones on the banks a contrast of dark and bright.

  We all unzipped our jackets as Bren stood gazing into the flames, his breath slow and even, deliberate. No one spoke, and I glanced at Frieda anxiously, unsure of what was happening. She stepped closer to me, gave me a reassuring smile, and waited.

  “He’s been here,” Bren said finally. He turned to the others. Skye nodded her agreement.

  “How did he find it?” Frey asked.

  Val stepped up next to Bren, fists pressed into his hips. “He came through this way.”

  “That’s my guess,” Bren said. He paused, then turned to Val. “Only one way to find out.” Val nodded and walked back toward the others. When they saw Bren step toward me, they moved further away, gathering near the looming pine that sparkled in front of the cliff at the top of the circle.

  When I looked at Bren, he motioned to a wooden stump close to the fire.

  “I just want you to sit here for a little while and wait for me. Okay?” His tone was gentle.

  My eyes grew wide. “Are you going somewhere?” I didn’t want to be alone here in this dark, enchanted place.

  “No.” He took my hand. “But no matter what you see, I don’t want you be afraid. I will not let anything happen to you.”

  Somehow, these words, meant to be reassuring, heightened my fear.

  “Jenna,” he said, kissing my palm. “Trust me.”

  He led me to the tree stump and held my hand until I sat, my back to the fire so that I could see him. Then he bent down and kissed me, his lips lingering for a moment on mine. “Don’t be afraid,” he said again.

  He walked over to the others and they arranged themselves in a loose circle, the pine at twelve o’clock so that none of them faced away from it. Bowing their heads, they closed their eyes and lifted their left arms toward the center, fists tight, rings shining in the wavering light. The fire cracked like a whip behind me and I jumped, but none of them even flinched. A breeze began to kick up, tossing their hair and blowing their jackets back. At first I didn’t feel it, but as it tousled the flames, making the shadows leap against the trees, it rushed against me, growing stronger and more persistent until it howled, lashed my face and grabbed at my coat. I raked long wisps of hair from my eyes and glanced over my shoulder, wary of the fire. When I turned back, I stopped cold as I saw what was happening. The huge pine was shimmering, not glittering as it had before, but wavering in and out of reality, changing from solid to transparent and back again. As it settled on transparency, I expected to see the sheer stone of the cliff behind it, as though I were looking through a fir-shaped window. But instead, strange hues began to flicker in place of the boughs, first red, then purple, then green, then forming into a perfect spectrum, a rainbow Christmas tree.

  Bren’s eyes opened, narrow as they slid to the side. He was listening for something.

  In the next moment, a deafening crack echoed into the world, loud enough to make me believe the earth had split apart, and every bone and cell of my body with it. All eyes flew open, arms lowered. Dag reached out and pulled Frieda behind him. Val and Skye moved close to Frey. Bren raised his head and stepped forward, staring into the spectral window, his expression transforming from alertness to fury.

  “Where is my mother?” He asked, each word distinct, his voice low but barely contained.

  Skye pulled at Frey’s arm. When he stood his ground, she dropped her arm and stepped in front of him.

  “We have had an escape,” the voice was a thunderous rumble. It throbbed in my ears and I winced. “Sif is distraught, concerned for your safety. I have sent her to rest until we have contained the problem.”

  “She would never have agreed to that.” Bren was livid, his fists stiff at his sides.

  “She will tell you herself, when it is over.”

  I worried that my ears could not withstand the volume, the quaking of the voice, and pressed my hands against them as a precaution. Frieda caught my gesture. She hurried over and crouched next to me.

  “What’s happening?” I asked her. “What is that thing?”

  She leaned toward me, her eyes on Bren. “Bifrost. It’s the bridge between the worlds. That’s Thor on the other side.”

  “What? Thor? That’s Thor?” For one moment, I was afraid I was going to lose my mind, and then it mercifully passed, leaving me shaking.

  Frieda nodded, biting on the nail of her pinky. “He’s not supposed to be here.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but when we saw Bren cock his head to the side, his eyes sharp, we both quieted to listen.

  Bren’s voice was nearly sinister in its loathing. “You must be here at great risk.” He stepped closer to the wavering spectrum. “Who were you expecting?”

  There was quiet for a long moment. Then a rolling storm of words. “You have had your fun, but we are growing weary of your games. It is time to return.”

  “Who were you expecting?” Bren took another step.

  ”Return and appease your mother.”

  Bren’s eyes flashed. “Do not ever speak to me of my mother.” Another step. “Did you release Loki? Have you sent him here to bring us h
ome? Have you sunk so low as to conspire with a criminal?”

  “I will do what is best for Asgard. Always.”

  “You admit it, then.”

  Silence.

  Bren heaved with anger. “Whatever your plan,” he said, “it will fail. Because if I find myself back in Asgard, my version of destruction will be different from yours.”

  Bren glared into Bifrost for a long time, and I wondered if Thor stared back from the other side. Finally, there was another earsplitting boom and I jerked my hands back up over my ears. I waited until the noise reduced to a tolerable rumble and began to fade, then let my arms fall to my sides.

  Frieda put her hand on my shoulder as we watched Bren fume.

  I leaned close to her and she inclined her head to hear me. “Why does Bren hate him so much?” I whispered.

  She shrugged. “Thor’s his stepfather.”

  I stared at Bren. His stepfather. Thor was Bren’s stepfather.

  Finally, Bren spun and spoke to the others. “He and Loki are in this together,” he said. “Thor must have been spying on my mother. That’s how he found the portal. Thor somehow arranged for Loki’s release, maybe even persuaded the elders to look the other way, convinced them that Loki could bring us back. They’ve been using Bifrost to communicate. Thor was expecting Loki tonight, not us.”

  “How’s Thor getting away with it?” Dag asked.

  “He just can’t be at the bridge long enough to get caught,” Skye said.

  I turned to Frieda again as they talked. “Why isn’t Thor supposed to be at the bridge?”

  I slid over on the stump so she could scoot in next to me. We just about fit. Her braids bobbed against her shoulders as she looked at the ground. “Thor is forbidden from Bifrost.” She said. “He’s not a flight risk or anything. He’s actually a hero in Asgard. But he is who he is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She smiled. “You know him as the guy with the hammer, right?” She curled her fist and made a pounding motion on her thigh to illustrate. I nodded. “Well, that’s true. But he’s more than that. It’s like…he is the hammer. Everything he does is thunder. He moves, sleeps, eats, breathes it. The elders are afraid he’ll destroy the bridge. Break it into pieces.”

  “But he was just here,” I said, trying not to focus on how close I had been to witnessing that possibility.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Well, Heimdall…have you heard of him?” I shook my head and she smiled again. “Bifrost’s guardian. He’s supposed to keep Thor a certain distance away, but Thor is technically his elder, so he probably wouldn’t interfere unless the bridge was actually threatened.”

  “What would happen if Thor did destroy the bridge?” I asked. “It is part of Asgard, or Earth?”

  “Neither,” she said. “That’s the thing. A portal to Bifrost can be opened anywhere on Earth by a god in Asgard, or by an oath circle here. But Bifrost exists in the in-between. As far as we know, there is only a void surrounding it. Nothingness. If the bridge was destroyed, the connection would be lost forever.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, what the consequences of that would be, and I wasn’t sure Frieda knew either, but I reigned in my questions. There were other things to think of now.

  Chapter 26

  Bren stared out the sliders, his hand braced on the wall beside his head. Skye, Dag and Val sat huddled around the kitchen table, trying to come up with all the different ways Loki could catch Frey by surprise, and how to avoid them. The best theory so far was Dag’s. He thought Loki would try to distract Bren while Thor captured Frey. The only problem with that, Val pointed out, was that Thor could not even try to cross the bridge without alerting the elders. Now they were working on the ways in which Thor might lure Frey over. Frey, his head in the refrigerator, suggested that he might use Frieda as bait, but Skye realized that it presented the same problem: Thor would have to cross the bridge to capture her. Unless, Frieda called over from our place on the couch, there were others involved in Asgard who would do it.

  “No.”

  We all looked up. It had been a long while since Bren had spoken. He shook his head and turned to us. “There’s no one else involved. None of the elders would let Thor near Bifrost, no matter what the potential reward. It’s too risky. And I don’t believe any of them would negotiate with Loki.”

  “Thor is a god of honor,” Val said. “What makes you so sure he would?”

  Bren’s smile was full of contempt. “Because it’s personal.”

  “Want to elaborate?” Frey asked.

  “There’s a reason Loki appealed to Thor and not somebody else.” Bren said. “Loki is a master manipulator. He plays on fears, insecurities, anger, hate, any negative emotion you can think of. Thor and I have been at odds for a long time. Thor would love to win this one, yank me back home, look like a hero to the elders, to my mother.” He took a deep breath and continued. “All Loki would have to do is convince Thor that I should be taken first. Without me, the rest of you could be captured one by one.”

  I shifted in my seat, cold terror running through me at the thought of Bren being taken away, of what would happen if Frey was dragged back to die in battle. Of how soon that battle would be.

  Frieda threw an anxious look toward Frey while he popped a soda can and pretended not to notice. Skye’s face was white and still.

  “But Loki can’t take you.” Frieda said to Bren. “How could he?”

  Bren shook his head.

  The panic rose over my head. I didn’t belong in a room full of gods bravely preparing for a fight. Bren was the most important thing to me, and I felt small and stupid for it. They were trying to save worlds, and the one thing I wanted to save was threatened by someone who scared me to the bone. I sprung up from the couch, headed down the hall to the bathroom, and locked the door behind me.

  I sat on the edge of the tub and dropped my face into my hands, pushing my fingers into the corners of my eyes to hold back tears. I stared down at the rug, midnight blue, the color that had swirled in Loki’s eyes the night I met him. I looked away. Even in the coolness and stark light of the bathroom, I could not quiet the nerves wracking my body. I took a few deep breaths, holding them as long as I could, and told myself that it would be okay. That there was a way to win this. Bren had told me once that he could do anything. I held onto that now.

  When I finally opened the door, Bren was leaning against the wall, waiting.

  “Okay?” He asked. I stared at him. He took my hand, led me into his room and closed the door behind us. I walked to the windows, turned and paced back to center of the room, closed my eyes and sighed, paced back and forth again. Bren watched me.

  “It'll be okay,” he said. “We’re going to take care of this.”

  ‘What does that mean?” There was a tremor in my voice.

  “Thor needs Loki to pull off whatever they’ve got planned. We’ll get Loki first.”

  “How?”

  “We’ll figure it out, map out exactly how it’s going to go down. Then we’ll take it to him.” He shrugged. “He doesn’t have a chance against us.”

  “If that’s true,” I said, crossing my arms, “then why are you being so careful?”

  He smiled, pulled me toward him. I peered up into his face and he brushed his hand against my cheek.

  “I didn’t say he wouldn’t fight. He will. He’s slick. He’s calculating. Evasive. He sees weaknesses and anticipates perfect opportunities to exploit them. More than any of that though, he’s patient, and that’s what makes him so dangerous. When we go after him, it’s going to have to be quick and aggressive. So our carefulness, as you put it, has to do with protecting everybody else, preventing this place from becoming a crater.”

  I let my shoulders drop. “That’s encouraging.”

  He laughed, held his right fist over his heart and gave me a slight nod. “That’s Asgard.”

  “Well this is Earth.” I said. I pulled away from him, walked over to the bed and slumped down on th
e edge. I grabbed his pillow and wrapped my arms around it, pushing my face into the linen to inhale his scent. “And I don’t want to lose you to someone who doesn’t even belong here.”

  He walked over and sat down next to me. “You know, if I’d stayed where I belonged, you’d have nothing to lose.” He ran his hand down the back of my hair. “I wonder if I could’ve just left you alone, if I’d known all this was going to happen.”

  I looked up at him. “Do you regret it?” If he did, it would have been more painful to me than losing him, because I realized in that moment that I would never have gone back to who I was before I knew him, no matter what happened now.

  “No,” he said. “I'll never regret it. I just wish I could take away your fear.”

  I closed my eyes, squeezed the pillow and breathed in his scent again, then felt him yank it from my grip. He slid an arm around my waist and kissed me. As I softened, he tossed the pillow behind me and pressed me down onto the bed. His mouth never left mine, and I finally fought for breath under his weight.

  “I can’t lose you,” I whispered against his lips. I couldn’t get close enough to him to calm my dread. I grabbed handfuls of his shirt in my fists and he shifted over me until I felt small underneath him.

  “You’re not going to lose me.” He kissed me again, harder, his tongue peppermint cool on mine.

  “What if - ”

  “Shh.” He smothered my words, lacing his fingers through mine. “You’re not going to lose me.” He bent his head, dragged the collar of my shirt aside with his teeth and kissed my shoulder, his tongue moving in small, slow arcs. I sighed and heard a low growl in his throat. When he let his arms buckle so that his full weight pressed on me, I braced myself for the crush, but it was the safest I’d ever felt and I thought I’d rather suffocate than let it end.

  His breath grew hot against my skin and when I shivered, he released one of my hands to run his fingers down my neck. He looked into my eyes. In just a few seconds, I’d forgotten the impact of his beauty. I braced my free hand against his shoulder to steady myself, but instead the feel of him was like a freefall.