Addictive Rimeshade (15 page)

“
Love.”

My blink sticks, pulling my eyelids apart takes effort, and I sigh, exhausted, incomprehension my monocle. “How is that love?” I slur, wondering what was in the green liquid because I am sapped.

“My light, yours, I'm god, you're a goddess, I am air, you are mist, I am wind, you are snow, I am inside and outside of you, you are outside and inside of me, we flew to eternity and returned, through the primordial dawn to the kiss of Ymir, we drank the first ice and fell through the firmament with its potency. Love Lara, this is celestial love. It's all encompassing. We are everywhere and nowhere when we are untethered to the physical, you are the mistress and master, of fire and ice, of snow and vice, we are spun as one, I needed you to know all of me, to take my Nfil as well as my Muspel, my home is yours, for you now there are no doors. You are my equal, my superior, my inferior, you are my everything, the one I look up to, the one I will protect when I am forced to look down, and the one I grip tight by my side should a storm come to blow us home.”

He missed his calling as the king's skald. But the fact that he's so moved he speaks to me as a living Edda, in the manner of old, it bursts tears, the emotions so intense, my joy has no words.

Love, my god, I've been doing it wrong.

He whispers close, kissing under my earlobe with his voice, “You too are skald. Your thoughts were mine for a time, and I could reside in your guardian heart for the rest of my existence if it is always so beautiful inside your inner realm. The essence, it's so strong in you, it humbles me.”

The ice has melted, the rivers running free, the dams within demolished, and I know his words ring true. I am becoming who I am.

Free.

Hesper's vespers. I am.

Chapter 14

An eleventh I know, if haply I lead

my old comrades out to war,

I sing 'neath the shields, and they fare forth mightily;

safe into battle,

safe out of battle,

and safe return from the strife.

~ Poetic Edda

Deliah:

Love comes back. Why am I sitting around, panicking, overwhelmed with dread, when if I'm totally honest with myself I'd know love doesn't come back. Love never abandons, period.

If I love him I would not let him go off alone, I'd go too.

But he doesn't want me there, I'll be a distraction, I'll get in the way, I'm inexperienced and a liability, the list is endless.

I can't tell any of the guys because they have allegiance to their chief, and Ewan will never forgive me for getting them involved when he expressly didn't want them to know.

And that leaves me just one choice for an ally.
Her
.

I saw her fell that mountain like it was no more than a pillar of sugar and she the evil east wind.

Making a decision, I spill the beans, “I'm distraught because Loki has my sister. He's kidnapped her, threatened to rape and batter her if Ewan allows this war to happen. So he's gone off alone to fight the wolf Leug, stalling the war, but I can't just sit here. I'm not allowed to tell Gunn or Alweada or Adam or Macala, or any of you, but I desperately want to run into the night, turn on my phone tracker because I have Lara's phone listed as my own, that way we can find her location, and run to rescue her with him.”

She nods, folding her arms, her jaw ticking, her left eye glowing like a jewel in a crow's nest. “Do you know how to fly, or be mist?”

I shake my head, knowing I'm useless. All I know is how to fight, what Gunn taught me, that's it. I have a nine-mil too, if that would help. But somehow I think we need bullets stuffed with devil gunpowder to end Leug.

She sits on the bed with me, patting my leg, saying softly, “We go alone. We'll sneak in, find her, and sneak out. If things go sour I'll just drop the mountain on them.”

“Can you do that?” I wheedle, playing to her empathy. “Can you lead him off so he's isolated and bury him under half a mountain of rubble? He was imprisoned in a mountain before, it won't bother him at all, and the bastard totally deserves it. Then we'll be free to find Lara.”

She nods, “Get your phone. Is there a secret way out of here?”

“Yes, up there behind the bathroom.”

Standing, fidgeting with a restless leg, she looks determined, “Hurry. Mac will come looking for me any time now. We need to vanish before the men realize we're missing.”

I don't need further encouragement, I pounce off the bed, running for my own bedroom. Once I have the geo-tag tracking switched on we'll know exactly where to go. Emma's a thur, she's the most powerful woman on earth, I'm sure she can let me fly on her back the way I did with Gunn.

We're coming Lara! Hold on sis, we're coming!

*

Macala:

Arghin muscles through the beer hall swarming with all manner of warrior, seasoned and novice, large and mediocre rifling for pitchers, striding forcefully toward me, a look of concern marring his congenial face.

I know something is amiss, leaving my corner to meet him halfway.

“What happened?” I demand, knowing something is very badly wrong by the vibe he's exuding.

“
The Book of Shadows is missing. Leug's ambush boys must have stolen it when they blew up the entrance to our heim.”

A wave of dread washes through me. Without Odin's book, the one thing he left us to safeguard, will he not withdraw his blessings?

What the hell would Leug want with it?

Slapping my forehead, it occurs so plainly. With that book in which every one of us, every clan, every person, recorded, their thoughts, their plans, their actions, it's like owning a crystal ball without the guesswork. Leug now knows everything we had planned and can circumvent us. He'll know our strengths and weaknesses, he now has the upper hand. We are doomed!

Patting my friend's shoulder in thanks, I turn, looking for Adam. Spotting the pampas haired gangly giant, I shout over the noise, “Adam! Tell Emma I'll be back soon as I can! I just have an errand to run!”

He nods, raising his beer, shouting cheers, “Skal!”

Urgency snares me and I grip Arghin, rushing him toward the outer tunnel, hissing quietly, “Fuck Ewan's plan. We must go, we must retrieve that book. We are the shadow warriors, he'll never see us coming.”

*

Gunn
:

Concerned for Deliah, still loving her, I stroll, as casual as possible, into Ewan's room where I left her.

If I can't have her, at least I'll have the next best thing. I'm itching to fly to the fray, to battle that beast to the never.

“Liah?” I call, wondering if she's in the bathroom.

Silence ensues, the vibration of his chamber feeling a thousand shades of shifty.

She's gone. He's gone! Where the hell have they gone?

I'm his best tracker, I found her even when she was invisible. Rushing back out to get my sword, I make haste. They can't be far. How dare they leave me behind when I have everything to lose to Leug?

Strapping my swords to my back, glancing once at my room of preparation, I hold my vacant palm, now stripped of the handfasting mark of when I vowed my forever to Deliah.

If Ewan falls, I get the girl!

Hamasking, I fly out the bachelor's tunnel, into the night of razors, knowing they are all proving they can hold their liquor, no witnesses to see me leave, to track the woman I love.

Chapter 15

The famed rain bow's defender,

Ready in wisdom, striveth

At Singasteinn with Loki,

Fárbauti's sin-sly offspring;

The son of mothers eight and one,

Mighty in wrath, possesses

The Stone ere Loki cometh.

~ Skáldskaparmal

Lara:

He wakes me early, caressing my cheek to rouse me.

Staring drowsily at the man who does not sleep, I grumble, “If you don't have coffee, go away.”

“I have coffee, and porridge. Rise and shine sváss, it's time to meet the family. The enemy flies.”

There's no saying no to this man. He wanted his enemy to come calling, and now he sounds worried. There's a saying about disrupting a hornet's nest, someone is bound to get stung. I don't look for shit so I don't get stung. Hasn't made a sod of difference though, life has a way of victimizing me regardless.

Shifting up to lean against the headboard, I accept the coffee, sipping it. I feel weird, like I'm still dreaming, like I'm not all here, half of me ghosting off through the walls, investigating spiritually, taking my neurons with it.

Forty minutes later I'm shaking the hand of a woman so tall she is a pillar of pretty. She's the one carved on the door to the receptacle.

She's beautiful, absolutely stunning. I always imagined this is what Helen of Troy looked like. She's got hair which is long and voluminous, wavy and left to curl down to her backside like strands of honeycomb. Her locks are so golden that they defy description, the closest being a cross between yellow diamonds and tiger's eye.

Kind eyes the shade of tropical aqua stare into my own, and she clasps my hand as if I am so fragile she'd break me, saying, “Welcome home.”

I smile back, liking her immediately, feeling as if I'm with a mother figure, a very tall one. I never had a mother to hold me or hug me, so this feeling is overwhelming.

As if knowing my heart, she reaches out, stroking my hair, giving me a little cuddle, “All who come here are going through change. They are confused, sometimes angry, mostly they're sad. We have enough love here to vanquish the sorrow and hardship, we heal the ravaged soul. You are safe, this is your sanctuary.”

She releases me, letting Leug lead me another step to a gnarled crone lady, her eyes alert even though she is clearly very old. “This is Carmen, the one who keeps me humble,” he says, introducing the lady.

I give her a curtsy for some unknown reason, as if touching her is intuitively known to be off limits.

She laughs at me, patting my shoulder with knobbly fingers, “We've been expecting you.”

As if that tells me the world and everything between.

I recognize the twins, tall and blond surfer types, buff and young, and annoying. Still angry at their indiscretion, I don't know who is who, I just know one is Sköll and the other Hati, I slap the one closest, snapping at them, “You know what that's for. Disgusting pervert!”

Carmen cackles to Hel, “She'll fit right in.”

The twins laugh, as if finding my annoyance hilarious, sounding to me like they finished their stash of pot recently.

Bloody idiots. I'm British, show a gentleman's respect, we have standards.

Then Leug stops, seriousness settling on his glorious visage, saying with so much pride it reminds me of everything I never had, the love of a father, “This is my son, Fenrir.”

I'm surprised that Fenrir has skin blacker than the abyss, his eyes a startling yellow. They're more hazel around the edges, but still, a shock nonetheless.

He bows slightly, giving me a half-smile, taking his hand out from behind his back and offering me a wig.

This is a weird custom indeed. What's wrong with my hair?

Leug bursts out laughing, still eavesdropping in my mind, explaining, “It's not a wig. Fenrir, tell her.”

Still proffering the ugly cap of bleached hair dyed witch red, reminding me of my evil foster-mother, he says in a very deep rumbling voice, “You never wanted to see her face again, so I did not bring her head, I brought you her scalp instead.”

Recoiling from the item, I wilt against Leug, “What?”

“
They are dead. Let your will always be done,” says Leug.

If I was a god then Steven and Marcy would be dead.

My own words ricochet through the caverns of my mind, the labyrinth familiar to the minotaur.

I nod my thanks, understanding it's an enormous gesture, but still unwilling to touch the item previously belonging to Marcy's body, mumbling, “Thanks, er, that was very thoughtful of you. Mind incinerating it for me? I don't need a trophy. But thank you, very much.” I keep it polite, still grossed out, diabolically.

He nods, looking at me as if I am family and he's about to tease me for being a total sissy.

I like this lot, they're a motley nest of individuals, but they are kind. That's all that matters to me.

Leug turns me to face him, saying softly, “Please do not be afraid. He will never harm you.”

Then without any further preparation he turns me back to face the biggest snake head ever. It fills the whole space, which is epic in proportion, the caves we're in high as an underground city with cathedrals, and superstructures tall. He fills it all.

Leug says, “He can't speak in this language, so I will translate.” Then he holds my head, looking into me as if filling my head with secret wishes and a chronicle of alchemy, the words coming into my mind without him speaking them, “Sorry I terrified you. I hold the world together, I can't be a worm to complete such a feat. Good to greet you Lara, mother womb.”

Blinking, I give him an empty smile, not knowing how to respond to being called the effing mother womb. Eek!

With introductions now properly behind us, Leug captures my waist in his strong hold, pulling me tightly to his side, saying to all of us, “Right, who's up for a spot of fairy juice in the starroom?”

Cricking my neck to look up at the king of this domain, I frown, “Fairy juice?”

“Absinthe darling. It's something of a tradition around here.”

Oh yeah, I could totally use a stiff drink, ten of them in fact. As I like to now say, it's never too early for a spot of vodka. Especially when in the company of a cluster of shapeshifters.

Maybe I've lost my mind?

Entering the sunken lounge with the black ceiling peppered with glowing stars, shining nebulae floating and spinning midair, I walk with my lusty lover to a huge couch, needing help to get up on it, feeling again like a child. This place is made for men so large they challenge my imagination.

The walls are still corded and knotted roots, but in here they glisten in metallic blue the shade of a summer's night.

Reclining back, accepting my drink from Hel, noting the twins have somehow vanished into thin air, I ask, “Why are the walls made of roots?”

She answers, “They are not roots, they are
Níðhöggr
.”

“
What is Níðhöggr?”

Leug answers this time, saying, “A venomous snake, weakening the worldtree's roots in preparation for Ragnarök. Níðhöggr is the twin brethren of Jörmungandr. And yes, I am aware that your legends call them the male and female pair of Leviathan.”

Sitting down, crossing his legs and reclining back in his chair, he smiles at me, enjoying being the tutor, saying, “Did you know that back in the beginning, all ice and frost was considered the snake's venom? All rime is Élivágar, and is the source of the giant Ymir. And it is that giant from whom Odin acquired his gift of foresight and primordial wisdom. Ymir was formed of the poison, the frozen venom, and that is why ever since Odin has been toxic to our kind and humankind.”

Shaking my head, I don't really understand the logic in that. “What?”

Sipping his huge glass of green absinthe, he waves his hand, explaining, “Ice filled the void between Niflheim and Muspelheim. The opposites are fire and ice. Ice from Niflheim, fire from Muspelheim. It created Ymir, who is the progenitor of both the rime and frost giants. He came first, he existed long before the gods did, which is why Odin sought his knowledge. But to gain this knowledge from Ymir's original well of primordial water, of melted venom, Odin had to exchange an eye for a drink. He did it, after cunning and trickery didn't work against one as old and wise as Ymir. Ymir was clever indeed, he took what was holy and pure, ergo Odin, corrupting him with poison, making Odin blind to himself when he lost his eye, blind to suffering, blind to anything other than his ego. Before then the ego didn't exist. It came to replace Odin's spirit with a counterfeit version of it, one which has no empathy or love.”

I'm beginning to wonder if this is the source of the god Poseidon. Sometimes it feels like pantheons overlap and all history is the same story.

Sitting next to her dad, Hel says to me, “Élivágar are ice waves, which solidified the bridge between all creation and the realm of the gods, it's the original term for the bifröst bridge. Do you not see? It made men and gods equal, which is why Odin no longer allows anyone to cross it. Or anyone could just waltz on into the god's realm, the heavenly realm of everlasting life where the golden orchard is. Then everything could live forever, even the animals should they feast on the dropped Læraðr apples. If there is one thing the ego, as in Odin, cannot abide, it's equality.”

And then suddenly the epiphany hits me. The snake, the apple, and the tree. How did the world's most dominant religion stem from Norse mythology? Why did we forget that they are the source of all our tales?

Sitting forward, smiling broadly, Leug laughs, “Yes my perceptive sváss, you finally have found the root of all your woes. Your world worships Odin, still.”

The twins interrupt, bursting in, falling over each other, tumbling in a tangle of limbs and playful punches, one of them finally holding his brother down to yell at Leug, “Ewan is closing in. He's almost here!”

Leug stands, looking serious, “Then best I do not keep my guest waiting. I have anticipated this meeting for eons.”

He stops next to me, cupping my face, mashing my lips with his, softly sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and seductively running his tongue across it, breaking contact after he's checked my tonsils are still intact since the last time he checked to whisper, “Niflheim will keep you safe. Stay indoors. We'll be together again soon.”

I still feel really weird, like I'm splintered and empty, floating and dissipating.

I can't seem to summon alarm, simply accepting his words, listening to an odd chorus riding on the celestial winds.