Viking's Crusade (Viking Ancestors: Rise of the Dragon, #6)

by Purington, Sky

  “I do not recall that being here before.” Halla pointed at a monstrous cavern down the hill from them. “It looks like a dragon lair, does it not?”

  “It does,” Tess agreed. “And it definitely wasn’t here on mine and Rokar’s adventure.”

  “If it is meant for only one dragon,” Magnus commented. “It would have to be a very large one.”

  Everyone glanced at each other, thinking the same thing. Pierce put voice to it. “Don’t tell me that’s the Great Serpent’s lair.” He scanned the Realm uneasily. “I thought he was dead?”

  “He is.” Ava headed that way, and the rest of them followed. “But that doesn’t mean his lair couldn’t exist here. From what I’ve heard, the Realm does this sort of thing. It mimics areas that can be found on Múspellsheimr, right?”

  “Yes,” Soren confirmed. “More and more with every adventure. On Tess and Rokar’s journey, it happened often.”

  “Which means we can probably expect it to happen even more to us,” Ava murmured.

  “Remember that feeling I spoke about before Soren?” Leviathan said. “The draw on the atmosphere that I felt at the Fortress?”

  He nodded. “You feel it here too?”

  “Yes,” the Ancient replied. “But it is not sinister.”

  “No.” Vigdis’s eyes hazed over not with the Great Serpent’s possession but with her own magic. “It is the very opposite. A place trying to counteract what Leviathan felt at the Fortress.”

  “Why wasn’t I told about this?” Ava frowned at Soren. “We would’ve stayed at the Fortress to protect them.” Her frown deepened, her inner dragon rearing up in concern. “Thorulf is there. We should go back.”

  “Thorulf is fine,” he assured. “The atmospheric disturbance Leviathan detected is not a portal just a draw on energy.”

  “He is right.” Vigdis’s eyes remained hazed over. “There are many of them. Mostly around Skáld’s Domain and here. The one at the Fortress is amongst the weakest.”

  Ava searched his eyes, her concern for his son touching. “You’re sure he’s safe?”

  “Yes, he is surrounded by many powerful people including his comrade in arms, Dagr.”

  “That’s right,” Tess said. “And if you guys need to get back, we can get you there in a split second.”

  Ava nodded, seemingly satisfied with everyone’s assurances, and they continued toward the lair. The air smelled faintly of smoke as though a dragon had recently breathed fire.

  “He was here,” Ava said softly. “In another time and place our ancestor, my father, was here.”

  “Agreed.” Tess scanned the deep recesses of the cave as torches were lit. “He was roaring mad too.”

  Ava nodded. “At us...you and me, Sis.” She narrowed her eyes, sensing something before she whispered, “Then he was sad...incredibly sad.”

  Soren pulled Ava against him when their surroundings once more became Múspellsheimr though they remained in the same cave.

  “There he is,” Ava said softly, gesturing at a darkened corner where Níðhöggr sat with his head hung, his sadness palpable, his grief profound.

  “Father,” came a soft voice before Ava’s former dragon appeared, her sadness obvious. “I am...so sorry.”

  He closed the distance swiftly and wrapped his mighty wings around her, bringing tears to Ava’s eyes.

  “This happened after we lost Tess,” she whispered. “Níðhöggr was definitely infected with love. Just as much as me at that point.”

  “You should not have come here. It is far too dangerous.” Níðhöggr held his daughter and pleaded. “You cannot go back now.”

  “I can, and I will. The death of my sister and her mate, not to mention all those before them, will not be in vain.” Her dragon eyes rose to his. “I put this plan into action, and we are in a much better position now than ever. We will defeat Skáld. Not only that but something unexpected has happened that will make all the difference.”

  Soren glanced at Ava in question, but she shook her head that she didn’t know.

  “What has happened, child?” Níðhöggr asked. “What will make all the difference?” He cocked his head. “Do you refer to what was created by your sister and her mate?” His eyes narrowed in distrust. “What they created with the aid of a fire demon and elf?”

  “No, it is more than that, Father.” She kept her eyes with his. “It will help see things through. What you have desired since the infection began.” Emotion lit her gaze. “Now, thanks to the sacrifice my sister and her mate made.” She shook her head. “Not just them but because of all infected fated mates before that, we finally have the means to leave this place and start anew.”

  “How did you create such a portal, though?” he said. “Skáld and I are the most powerful dragons in this world, and even we do not know of a way to get to Midgard. It is forbidden.”

  “Not anymore,” she replied. “That is all you need to know.”

  “But I am your father and ruler,” he reminded. “I should know.”

  “No, Father,” she replied. “You should lead us all when the time comes.”

  Silence settled as he took her meaning.

  “You want me to lead the infected off this world through the portal,” he said. “To abandon the rest of our people in a time of war.”

  “The rest of our people are ruthless killers,” she said softly. “There is no place for them on Midgard.”

  “I will not abandon them.” He raised his head, ruler that he was. “Not only because I led them into this war, and they are my tribe, but what if they become infected after I leave? Could they follow?”

  “No,” she said. “There is but one portal, and it closes behind us.”

  She continued talking, but her words were inaudible. Múspellsheimr faded, and the lair in the Realm returned. By the looks of it, they had been gone a while. Everyone sat around a fire and game roasted.

  “Welcome back.” Halla grinned. “Pierce said we would see you soon.”

  Why would Pierce know they were returning? When Soren glanced at the man in curiosity, Pierce gestured at Soren’s sword. “I’m pretty sure it was the First Blade. I saw a glow where you stood that brightened until you reappeared.”

  Ava glanced at Soren, then the blade. “Is it still glowing?”

  “Nope.” Pierce shook his head. “Perfectly normal now.”

  “Interesting,” Soren murmured.

  “It’s because of the elf’s role in its creation,” Ava said. “Has to be.”

  He nodded in agreement and was about to respond when searing pain burned his tattoo.

  Moments later, he understood why.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “DINNAE TOUCH IT,” Tiernan warned, eying Soren’s tattoo. “Not until all the smoke around it has dissipated.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” Ava frowned, looking between Tiernan and Soren’s arm. Her inner dragon roared in defiance, not liking this at all. Though desperate to touch it and perhaps soothe his pain, she stayed her hand. “Why is it smoking and hurting him so badly?”

  Clearly more worried about her than himself, Soren looked at her with reassurance. “Don’t worry. The pain is fading.”

  “The smoke is directly connected to Múspellsheimr,” Tiernan explained. “Not in your past but now.” His eyes narrowed. “And has to do with Skáld.” He shook his head. “Not some minion he’s sent after you but Skáld himself.”

  Fear churned her gut when the smoke faded, and she saw what was left behind. His tattoo chilled her to the bone. “What am I looking at?” She kept frowning. “Why does his dragon have three heads now?” She looked at Tiernan. “And what exactly do you mean it’s directly connected to Skáld? Does that mean he can get inside Soren’s head?”

  “I dinnae think ‘tis quite like that.” He narrowed in on it. “’Tis a different sort of connection. An unusual one that aye, has to do with Soren and Skáld being brothers in another life, but isnae necessarily a conduit for the double-headed serpent
.”

  “Right, double-headed,” Ava reiterated. “So what’s with three heads?”

  “I dinnae know with certainty, lass.” Tiernan’s expression remained unsettled. “All I know is ‘tis verra telling. I just dinnae know precisely what ‘tis telling.”

  “Is your magic off again?” she said. “Or is it because it’s related to Skáld?”

  “A wee bit o’ both I’m afraid.”

  She looked at Soren’s shoulder, and shook her head, then filled everyone in on what they had missed in Múspellsheimr a few minutes before. More importantly, what she and Soren had learned. “Assuming the two are connected, why would discovering that Níðhöggr intended to stay behind with his people on Múspellsheimr have changed Soren’s tattoo? I don’t get it.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t that,” Soren said. “It could have just as easily been your former dragon alluding to her plan.”

  “What was my plan?” She sighed. “Figure that out, and I think we’ll get a lot of answers.”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “So if Soren’s tat is connected to Skáld, albeit in an unexplainable way,” she said to Tiernan, “is it safe to touch now that the smoke’s gone?”

  “Yes.” Vigdis clearly sensed something. “I do not believe Skáld can hear or harm you through the mark because of the Blade’s protection.” Her eyes narrowed. “It is, however, meant to remind Soren of something.”

  “Well, that’s better than any alternative, I suppose.” Yet Ava continued to worry. Something she wasn’t typically prone to do but couldn’t seem to help it when it came to Soren. “What if it's some sort of tracker that doesn’t require Skáld being in Soren's mind?”

  “Though I cannot be absolutely certain I do not think it is,” the seer replied. “What I do know is it is safe to touch, Ava. It will not harm you.”

  Another chill swept through her at those words. As if there was more to that statement beyond the obvious. She met Soren’s eyes. “Why do I get the feeling your tattoo approves of me touching it?”

  He offered a small grin, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Because I approve and it’s on me?”

  Ava couldn’t help a small smile in return, yet again trying her best to keep her eyes on his face rather than the rest of him. He got her so damn aroused. In remarkably good shape, his chiseled, muscular arms drew her eyes far too easily. Every part of him did for that matter. She had never wanted to touch a man so much.

  To explore every inch of him.

  Where in the tunnels she was able to get her arousal under control, she had no such luck this time. Much to her mortification, he picked up on it too. So said his sharp inhale and the fiery flare of his dragon eyes when he caught her scent.

  If that weren’t enough, her dragon approved and heat spread like wildfire all over her, fanning the flames of her arousal even more. She bit back a groan and forced herself to tear her eyes from his. Not that it did much for the state of her arousal. Hell, this was nuts. She felt like she was going through puberty all over again.

  “You are not alone,” he said into her mind. “This is new to me as well.”

  Despite the warmth of the crackling fire nearby, he put his cloak on again to cover his arms and sat beside her.

  “You don’t need to do that on my account,” she said. “You’re going to roast.”

  The corner of his mouth curled up. “Dragon’s like to roast.”

  She met his crooked grin. “Cute.”

  He shrugged. “True.”

  She would say one thing for her fated mate, he made her smile more than she had in years. Amazing considering their circumstances. Yet still, he had a way of bringing a little lightness to the darkness she had shrouded herself in for so long.

  Darkness she needed to remember she deserved.

  “So your former dragon discovered something after Rokar and I died in our last life, eh?” Tess said from Rokar’s lap, reflecting on what Ava and Soren had just witnessed in Múspellsheimr. “Because I definitely got the impression that something happened outside the obvious.”

  Ava nodded. “It did. Something that...” She struggled for memory. “Something that allowed me an opportunity that made all the difference...” She frowned and shook her head when a memory skirted just out of reach then vanished. “Darn it, I almost had it.”

  “That happens,” Tess said. “It’ll get easier as time goes on. Eventually, the flood gates will open, and it’ll all come back.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier if the flood gates opened at the get-go?”

  “I’m afraid that’s not how it works, Sis.” Tess fiddled with one of the braids in Rokar’s goatee. “And honestly? I’m kind of glad Níðhöggr set it up the way he did.” Her eyes met her mate’s. “There really is something to the journey that’s so worthwhile.” Her gaze returned to Ava. “You’ll see what I mean.”

  She was sure her sister was right. Either way, Ava was grateful for it because she needed time to adjust to her dragon surfacing again. More than that, her inner beast forming such a strong bond with another dragon so quickly.

  Leviathan handed her and Soren some meat and skins that turned out to have ale in them. Never a big drinker, preferring a clear head, she took a few sips then set it aside, wondering what their next step should be.

  “From what I have seen, it’s very much out of our control,” Soren said a while later when she pondered it again.

  After eating and chatting with the others for a time, he brought her outside where they sat and admired the tree. She knew she needed to rest, but she also needed time to reflect. To plan the impossible.

  “I feel off when I have no sense of direction.” She gestured at the ring which was supposed to show her the way. “Or should I say, I’m no good at not having all my facts up front so I can figure out what to do next. To plan my approach from all angles. To weigh out all my options.”

  “That is something you did with your job, yes?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I thought maybe after a few years of not doing it, things would change, but I guess it’s built in.”

  “I understand,” he replied. “Probably because I am the same way.”

  “You are?” She shook her head. “God, I’m sorry. Obviously, there’s more to you than your family.”

  “They are a big part of me.” His eyes met hers in amusement. “But yes, there is more.”

  “Tell me about yourself.” She braced her hands back on the soft grass and eyed him, doing her damndest to keep arousal at bay. Even his face drove her to distraction. “How are you the same way as me?”

  “Like you, I prefer to be in control of a situation,” he revealed. “One that I have had time to consider so that I might go about it the right way. So that I treat people fairly and keep the peace.”

  “That does sound a lot like me,” she murmured, now more curious than ever. “How do you feel about Sven becoming king, anyway? It sounds like something that would’ve suited you. Not to mention you’re Heidrek’s only son, right?”

  “I am,” he replied. “As to Sven becoming king, if my father and Uncle Bjorn felt it was for the best, then I trust that.” His eyes drifted to the tree. “More than that, I trust the gods and even your ancestor, who very much wanted him to rule.”

  “At least during this war,” she agreed. “But what about afterwards? Does your father want to rule again? And aren’t there two kingdoms hunkered down at the Fortress? What happens when they return home?”

  “Uncle Bjorn wants Sven to remain king of their people when he returns.” He shook his head. “Beyond that, I don’t know.”

  She sensed suppressed turbulence in his mind. Vague disappointment he hid well. While tempted to call him on it, she’d rather see what he was willing to tell her. How honest he’d actually be. “Would you want to become king if you could?”

  “Yes,” he replied bluntly. “I have always enjoyed leading my people when given the opportunity and hoped someday, I might take my father’s place.”

/>   Relieved he was so honest but concerned as well, she tilted her head in question. “Then why aren’t you more upset?”

  Sure, his thoughts were turbulent, but they weren’t angry or resentful.

  “Because as I said, I trust what put Sven where he is,” he replied. “And I think Sven is doing very well. He is a good king.”

  “I have a feeling you would be too,” she said softly.

  He seemed pleased. “Do you?”

  “Yes.” She shook her head. “Most people in your position wouldn’t be so relenting, especially if they desired to lead and lost to another.”

  “I do not think that way,” he said. “I have been out to sea more often than not so in that alone I have not earned it. But that’s not what this is about. Sven is king for a reason. He serves a purpose. To lead us through a trying time, then continue to rule afterward if that is what the gods wish.”

  “Being out to sea a lot shouldn’t be a big deal,” she said. “You’re Viking.” She peered at him. “Doesn’t that mean you’re leading raids?”

  “Sometimes,” he said. “The point is it was unlike me to be gone so often.”

  “It was your way of dealing with grief,” she reminded.

  “True,” he agreed. “Even so, a leader does not flee when they grieve, but stand by their people and lead.”

  “Which you haven’t needed to do these past few years, right?”

  “Right,” he said. “But that changes nothing.”

  “It does from where I’m sitting.”

  “I thank you for that,” he said softly. “And for your support.” He considered her. “What would you think of me becoming king if it happened?”

  “I think it’d be great.” She grinned. “Thought I just got that point across?”

  “I mean as your mate.”

  He about floored her with his next statement.

  “What would you think about being married to a king?” His eyes searched hers. “About being married to me?”