Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2) (25 page)

Chapter Twenty-six

F
or the first time in what felt like ages, I woke up warm and cozy, but thirst had turned my throat and eyes into sandpaper. Skyla appeared at my bedside, waiting with a mug of hot chicken broth and a glass of water.

“Sip this slow.” She passed me the mug.

I sucked down the broth and gave it back to her for a refill.

She chuckled and shook her head. “I said
slow
.”

“Try telling that to my stomach,” I said.

Skyla obliged my request for seconds and returned a few moments later with another cup of soup.

“Where are we?” I asked after scanning my surroundings—log walls, chintz curtains, hand-stitched quilts.

“A rental cabin near Rainier. We set this up as sort of a base camp, but we didn’t intend to stay here this long. Baldur was too weak to make the jump all the way back to New Breidablik with passengers.”

I took her hand and squeezed it. “Baldur made me leave you. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to.”

“We’re all together now. He came back for me.”

“Are you okay? The fighting was so horrible.”

“I’ve got a bruised rib, some sore knuckles, but otherwise, I’m fine.”

“What happened? Is Tori…?” My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t finish the question.

Lines of strain appeared around Skyla’s mouth and eyes. “Tori wasn’t going to stop. She was intent on killing you and on getting me out of her way so I couldn’t interfere. She was a fanatic—dedicated to her beliefs.”

“You were a soldier. And a Valkyrie.” Sensing Skyla’s discomfort, I changed the subject to something less disturbing.

“Tell me everything.” I fell back against the pillows. Getting out of bed felt like a Sisyphean task. “Where is Thorin?”

Skyla sighed and slumped beside me. “You’ve been out of commission for a day. We woke you to force you to drink a few times. You stumbled to the bathroom once.”

“Ah. I thought it was just part of some weird dream.”

Skyla chuckled. “You did talk about apples a lot.”

My apple orchard had grown exponentially. I’d spent a lot of time in that dreamy place while my body recovered from hypothermia and dehydration. Not once in that place did a wolf try to eat me or a maniacal god try to kill me. My subconscious was being decent enough to let me dream of good things for a change.

Skyla’s gaze dropped, and her chin dipped. “Don’t know about Thorin, though. He hasn’t shown up yet.”

I sat back up, and my mouth fell open. “Hasn’t Baldur been back to look for him?”

“No, he’s wounded as well. Plus, he’s been nursing the two of us, and he has Nina to worry about. They found her in a pretty bad situation. She’s kind of a mess.”

I sat up straighter, energized by curiosity. “Nina? So he did find her. How?”

“Long story.”

“Like we have anything else to do.”

“Maybe you should come into the living room. Baldur probably would want to tell his part. It’s not like I was there for it.”

“What about Val? Has he not made contact either?”

Skyla patted my shoulder and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Solina. The last I saw, Grim had broken him almost literally in half and thrown him in the lake. I don’t know if they’re able to recover from those kinds of things.”

My heart swelled into my throat. I turned away and covered my eyes. A big, cold fist squeezed my heart, and the air in my lungs turned to ice.

Skyla rubbed my back while I struggled against tears and fought back the urge to scream and maybe throw something, tear apart a pillow or punch a wall—impotent gestures that might momentarily ease my internal pain but would otherwise solve nothing. I needed a plan, an action, something more productive.
But what?

“Maybe Val survived it,” Skyla said, “but we saw no signs of him after Grim disappeared with you and Tori. Just as it is with Thorin, it’s a case of wait and see. It sucks, but that’s the way it is.”

Skyla scooted off the bed and stretched. She hadn’t cut her hair in a while, so the halo of curls around her face had grown into something wilder and unruly. A huge T-shirt and sweats—probably something belonging to Baldur—swallowed her compact frame. I wore similar attire.

She noticed me giving her the once-over and made a sour face. “This living like a vagabond is getting old.”

“Tell me about it.” I scooted to the edge of the bed, wondering when I had traded my body for that of a ninety-year-old suffering arthritis in every joint. Skyla heaved me up onto my feet, groaning at her own injuries as she did. We supported each other as we wibble-wobbled into the living room.

An unfamiliar woman looked up from her book as we entered. She wore her hair in a wild mane of tight black ringlets that trailed over her broad shoulders. She sat in an overstuffed chair across from a crackling fireplace and stared at me with big brown eyes. I sank into another overstuffed chair, and Skyla plopped down on a huge ottoman next to me, folding her legs criss-cross applesauce.

“Nina,” Skyla said, “I don’t think you and Solina have been formally introduced. Solina Mundy, meet Nina Norgaard.”

Nina nodded at me but kept her face impassive. Closer inspection revealed she was older than me—maybe by as many as ten or fifteen years. She also had a few weeks-old bruises and abrasions. From a distance, her dark skin camouflaged the damage, and she looked as ageless and pristine as the subject of a hallowed painting. “Everyone’s talked about you a lot,” Nina said. She looked me over before turning back to her book. “Not sure what all the fuss is about.”

I ignored her cutting remark and smiled and tried to sound friendly. “Everyone’s talked about you, too. I can’t wait to hear your story.”

Baldur, maybe having heard the chatter of multiple females, entered the room and greeted me with an enthusiastic hug. “So glad to see you on the mend.”

“Feels good to
be
on the mend,” I said. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me.”

“No thanks are necessary. Just doing what I should have been doing all along.”

“What about Thorin? Skyla says you’ve had no word from him?”

Baldur lowered his eyes and frowned. “I can’t say for sure what happened to him.”

“Can’t you go look for him?”

Baldur’s gaze shifted to Nina. His face showed all his feelings, love but also apprehension. “I don’t want to leave her,” he whispered. “She’s not stable.”

“So we sit here and wait for Thorin to show up?”

Mjölnir’s chain still hung around my neck, and it would draw him to me… if he was capable of tracking it. The “if” was what worried me.

“Yes. We will rest and continue to heal. You’ll have to trust Magni to take care of himself.”

“But Grim had the sword. It’s a horrible weapon.”

“Magni has Mjölnir—it should not be underestimated.” Baldur’s assertions didn’t mollify me, but he couldn’t have cared less about my concerns. His attention shifted to Nina again, his eyes soft and unfocused.

Intent on her book, Nina behaved as though no one else existed in the room.

“Tell me about it.” I motioned in her direction. “How did you find her?”

Baldur huffed, almost a laugh, but an ironic one. “The doctors had put her in a medically induced coma, and it was like she was dead all over again.” She had survived an inexplicable single-car wreck on a stretch of rural desert highway outside Farmington, New Mexico, and the hospital staff had registered her as a Jane Doe. The car was a rental registered under an alias. She had no identifying papers with her, no driver’s license, and no cell phone. Her prints matched nothing in the national registry.

When the local police put out an APB about her on state and federal circuits, however, she showed up on Baldur’s radar, which he had built by meticulously begging, bribing, and threatening anyone who had the means to keep him and his private detectives appraised of any developments. Baldur had created a massive web that almost guaranteed Nina’s eventual discovery.

“I personally followed or paid someone to follow any lead,” Baldur said.

“How did you know she would show up in the US?”

Baldur snorted. “I didn’t.”

My mouth fell open. “You’ve been watching for her internationally?”

“Globally.”

“And you’re sure it’s her?”

Baldur nodded, and his face showed no uncertainty. “She’s been hurt, though. More than just the car wreck. I think Helen must have broken her before she put her in that hospital.”

“Why would Helen try to kill her?”

“I don’t think Helen wanted her dead. She set it up so I would find her. One of Helen’s shell companies was paying Nina’s medical bills.”

“How long had she been like that?”

“A few weeks. The doctors were bringing her out of the coma when Magni and I arrived. She didn’t know anyone or anything about what had happened to her, but I had already made arrangements to bring her home with me.”

“Why would Helen do that to her?”

“Helen never relinquishes her grasp on anyone without putting them through hell first. I should know.”

“Why would she let her go after all this time?”

“To distract me. To hurt me. To keep me busy with Nina’s rehabilitation instead of focused on guarding you. There are many reasons.”

“But you have her back. That’s got to be a great relief.”

Baldur smiled and ran a hand over his face, rubbing away the bleary look in his eyes. I’d never seen a god look tired before, but the white lines around his eyes and mouth showed the effects of his strains and injuries. “I have her, and I won’t let her go.”

Baldur made a simple supper of eggs, bacon, and toast. Nina ate without speaking unless spoken to and without meeting anyone’s eye. She tried her best to ignore Baldur altogether. I understood what Skyla meant about Nina being “not quite right.” After I cleaned my plate twice, Skyla helped me hobble back to bed.

“I’m going back to the Aerie in the morning.” Skyla leaned in my doorway and watched me settle into bed. “I’m not doing anyone any good sitting around here. I’m about to go stir crazy.”

“You’re doing me tons of good,” I said through a yawn. “Every time you leave me, bad stuff happens.”

Skyla sighed. “I know. Believe me, I
know
. I feel torn in two all the time.”

“Take it as a compliment. To be needed so badly, it means you’re doing something right.”

“If you want me to stay, I will.”

She meant it, and for that reason, I knew I had to let her go. “Go to the Aerie. Fix the Valkyries. Bring them over to our side. Make up a theme song and a costume while you’re at it. You’re my own personal hero, straight out of the comics.”

“Don’t give me all the credit.” Skyla smiled. “I was wrong to say the things I said about you. You are a fighter, Solina. I expected to find you half dead when we got there, but there you were at the end, fighting Tori in a blaze of glory.”

I nodded. “You were wrong, but it’s okay. We all have our moments of weakness. I’ve questioned your loyalty once. Now we’re even.”

“I won’t doubt you again.”

“Thank you for coming for me.”

Skyla shrugged and looked away. “I couldn’t have done it without Thorin. He was like this raging beast, flattening mountains, laying down forests. When I called him after you disappeared, he had already gone to Corvallis to look for you. He knew something bad was going to happen with his brother. He left Baldur and came for you. He would have gone to the ninth gate of hell to get you, Solina.”

“He feels responsible for me.”

“If Grim had killed you instead of Skoll, it would have ended all the Aesir’s problems very neatly. Thorin didn’t have to rescue you.”

“You talked him into it.”

“I didn’t have to say anything to him, Solina. I called him and had him meet us at Grim’s house at the lake. One look at my face, and Thorin was ready to go up the mountain that very moment. I had to convince him to hang out long enough to make a reasonable plan.” Skyla gave me a doleful look. “When we met up outside that cave, he barely spoke a word—just ground his teeth until Baldur and I were in place. I’ve known Thorin for three years. He’s always been so cool and collected.”

“Pssshaw,” I said. “As if.”

“You get under his skin, Mundy. I’ve never seen him so furious and so… so
scared
in all the time I’ve known him. I’ve climbed ice floes with him. We once outran an avalanche by the skin of our teeth. We faced down an angry bull moose on a hunting trip, and Thorin didn’t even flinch. In fact, he laughed at the moose and killed it with a freaking longbow while he was still chuckling. But this time, he was scared. He was afraid of losing you.”

I shook my head and yawned again. “It’s hard to see him as the sort who cares for anything other than his own hide.”
Or maybe that’s just how you want to see him. Because it’s safer and easier.

Skyla reached for my light switch and flicked it off. The room went dark, and before she left me, she said, “I think it’s safe to say he cares for your hide, too.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

I
seemed to return to the apple orchard only moments after I closed my eyes. Thorin had called it the house of Idun, but I had spent so much time there restoring the grounds and renewing the trees that I felt the right to claim some sort of ownership. The moment I stepped foot into the grassy yard, however, I saw I wouldn’t have it to myself.

“I wondered if you would show up,” Thorin said. His wore his hair tied back in a long tail, and he was soot smudged, sweaty, and…
shirtless
. The torc that Baldur had made from Thor’s belt circled his neck, a braided iron ring that contrasted with Thorin’s supple skin. My mouth went dry at so much beauty on such grand display. He remained intent on his work, stacking stones from a large pile at his feet onto a wall on one side of the crumbled house. Elegant muscles flexed beneath golden skin, and my fingers itched to touch him. He was a god, the strongest among them, and his frame and form epitomized extreme might and power.

I swallowed and, with a mostly steady voice, asked, “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” Thorin heaved a boulder into place beside the remnants of a door frame.

“You’re rebuilding. But why?”

“Needed a place to hang out for a while. Things have gone bad.”

“In what way? What are you talking about?”

Thorin brushed his hands over the thighs of his old-fashioned work pants—something I

had never seen him wear before. I had never noticed what I wore when I came here, but I looked down and found myself dressed in something like the Valkyries’ ceremonial garb: a white gown flowing in elegant panels, draping down to my toes.
Okay, that’s weird.

“I told you my brother was trouble,” Thorin said.

“You just couldn’t wait to say, ‘I told you so’?”

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

“I told you not to go looking for Nina out at those warehouses in Arizona, and you didn’t listen to me about that, either.”

“We’re both too stubborn for our own good, I guess,” he said. “The difference is in the level of risks we take. The consequences are not as dire for me as they are for you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You think I don’t regret it? You think I haven’t learned my lesson? Paid my price?”

“This all could have been avoided.”

“If I let you keep me in a cage,” I said. “Or you could borrow your brother’s idea and just kill me rather than wasting all your energy trying to keep me alive. It’s the sure thing, you know. Grim was right about that.”

Thorin growled and stalked closer.

“I’m more trouble than I’m worth,” I said in a defiant tone. Without self-pity, I meant my words as a challenge. “Don’t you think?”

Thorin sounded like a bear when he spoke again, all low and guttural. “What are you playing at? Why are you always intent on antagonizing me?”

My shoulders slumped, and I exhaled.
To push you away, of course.
“I couldn’t fight your brother, so maybe I’m taking my frustrations out on you.” I dragged my eyes up over his body, making my appraisal obvious. “You can take it, though, can’t you?”

I crossed the distance between us and stepped behind Thorin. “Look at you.” I traced a finger across his bare back, from shoulder to shoulder. His skin was warm and alive under my fingertip. “You’re a real-life Atlas, shoulders that can bear the weight of the world. You’ll save us all, won’t you?”

“Morbid, Solina.” Thorin turned to intercept my orbit. He took my hand, the one tracing over his back, and clasped it between both of his. “It’s not your nature.”

“How do you know my nature?” I asked.

However, Thorin was right. That forwardness was unlike me, but I didn’t exactly feel like myself in that place. Asgard.

“I know you better than you think I do,” he said. “You forget I knew you in another life.”

My eyebrows arched high. “How is that possible?”

“In your soul, you are Sol. You always have been, and you always will be.”

I tugged my hand, and Thorin released it. I stepped away, relieving some of the tension between us. Thorin’s words disconcerted me, and I needed to process.

“Why are you here?” I asked. “Why are you rebuilding Idun’s house?”

“I came here a day ago, and I haven’t been able to leave,” Thorin said. “That’s never happened before.”

“So you’re setting up house and planning to stay for a while?”

“It rained last night, and it was miserable. I’ve got to make shelter until I can figure out how to get away.”

“Come with me. I’ll take you back.”

He shook his head as a sad smile tugged at his lips. “It doesn’t work that way, Sunshine.”

“If you don’t want to be here, I’ll help you go,” I said, confident in my ability to lead him away. I waved my hand around the lush yard and growing trees. “Though why you want to leave this place, I don’t really know. It’s so peaceful. No wolves. No fire. No monsters.”

Thorin’s sad smile brightened. “It is lovely, isn’t it? You should have seen it before, when it was all fresh and alive.” He collected his shirt from the ground, wiped his face, and cleared the soot from his arms. He stepped toward me again, close enough to reveal the copper flecks sparkling in his eyes. “Something has gone wrong.”

“You said that before. I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I shouldn’t be stuck here.”

“I’ll figure out how to get you unstuck.”

“No. No matter what happens to me, you must keep yourself safe. Do
not
attempt to find me.”

“Don’t find you? But you’re right here.” I laughed a nervous titter, and my heart beat in a cadence of alarm, fast and fluttery.

“That’s right. I’m here. And this is where you’ll leave me.”

“I’ll leave when I good and well feel like it.”

Thorin’s breath tickled my face as he chuckled. “I meant that you won’t attempt to do anything to make
me
leave.”

“Like I’d think for a minute I could make you do anything you didn’t want to.”

Thorin’s eyes darkened, but not in anger. “You make me do all kinds of things I never intended to do.”

Although Thorin and I stood inches apart, it felt as though we were staring at each other across a wide valley filled with unspoken sentiments. Thorin’s allure pulled at me, urging me to act, to do something decisive for once. I resisted that impulse, and as if sensing my reticence, Thorin stepped back and shook his head. “You don’t have to leave, but I wish you would. I’ve got to get back to work.”

His dismissal stung, but it cleared my head. I latched onto it and used the hurt to temper my urges.
It’s not right to want someone so much. He’s a god, and I am not. How can it go any way but badly between us?
“Don’t do anything to hurt my apples.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He turned and walked back to his rock pile and crouched among the stones. “They’ve kept me going. They’ve attracted small game, squirrels and birds. This place is coming back to life.” He turned to look up at me. “I don’t know how you did it, but it’s a miracle.”

“It has to be a miracle. I don’t know quite how it happened either.” I told him about how the first tree had come back to life under my touch and how I’d planted the seeds from the first apple harvest.

Thorin smirked and shook his head. “I never thought I would see the day.”

“You think it means something?”

“I don’t know what it means, but I’m thankful for the little bit of life you’ve brought with you.”

“Is it really Asgard?”

Thorin selected a rock and rose from his crouch. He hauled it to the newly erected section of Idun’s house and heaved the stone into place. “It’s really Asgard. It exists on a plane that is contrary to human existence.”

“It’s like a dream. It’s hard to believe any of it might be real. I don’t think I’m fully myself when I come here. Part of me is somewhere else.”

“The part of you that comes here is the spirit of Sol that gives you your ability with fire.” Thorin stopped working again and gave me a solemn look. “So long as you live, you remain tethered to her. She is you, and you are her. That which defines you as Sol is not tangible. Your spirit can exist in Asgard, but not your humanity.”

I motioned toward the burnt-out skyline behind us. “Do you think it could be rebuilt?”

“I would have said no before, but I’m beginning to wonder.”

“I could stay and help you,” I said. “I like it here.”

“When you are separated like this, you are putting yourself in danger. If Helen found you in the earthly realm right now, you would be easy prey. This is only a half life for you. You must go back.”

“And leave you here, alone?”

“I’ve been alone for centuries, Sunshine.”

I crossed the yard and stopped at a spot that kept the rock pile between us. “What happened to you?”

Thorin, moving like a snake, slithered around the meager barricade of stones and towered over me, his eyes blackened by the ferocity of his imperative. “Forget about me. Baldur will take you to his home and protect you. Forget about going after Helen. Forget about Skoll. Keep yourself alive. Forgive me for the comic-book dialogue, but the fate of your world rests on your life, and you cannot jeopardize that on my behalf. Not for me, not for Val, not for Skyla, the Valkyries, your parents, or your brother. If Helen wins, if Skoll takes you, then all of that is gone. My life doesn’t even begin to weigh on that scale.”

Thorin’s hand shot out and latched onto my upper arm, squeezing. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.” I returned his bold gaze and didn’t shrug off his grip, although my arm throbbed in protest.

“Tell me you’ll do as I say.”

“You want me to forget about you?”

Thorin snarled. “Yes.”

I spread my lips into a thin, defiant smile. “I’ve never done a damn thing you told me to do before, Thorin, and I don’t plan to start doing it now.”

I awoke with a gasp. The sudden shift from Idun’s garden to the real world upset my sense of balance, and the room swirled around me. The howl of Thorin’s outrage echoed in my ears, but the man himself remained in Asgard, trapped. The cabin breathed as a squall of wind passed by. I inhaled several deep breaths and sent them out in one therapeutic whoosh. When my heartbeat settled into a normal rhythm again, I eased against the headboard and let my mind drift back, replaying my encounter with Thorin.

Thorin’s argument presented solid reasoning. His life for the fate of the world? Logically, I would have said no, he wasn’t worth that much. Something inside me wanted to disagree. I shifted in the big, empty bed and sat up, intending to go to the kitchen for a drink of water. I considered finding something mind-numbing to watch on TV and shutting out my thoughts for a bit. Going back to sleep was a hopeless goal.

As I reached across the bed to snap on the lamp, I noticed something on the pillow beside me, something heavy enough to sink into its downy filling. When my fingers curled around the item, I recognized the shape, but it radiated none of its usual warmth. All my aches and pains drained away as panic sent me racing from the bed, calling for Skyla.

Skyla threw open her bedroom door and rushed to meet me in the living room. Whatever she saw on my face sent the blood draining from her own. “What is it?” she demanded. “Helen? Skoll?”

“No.” I presented my discovery. Skyla looked down at my open hand and gasped.

By then Baldur had joined us. He saw my prize and swore. “Mjölnir? Is Magni back?”

“No. I found it lying on the pillow next to me.”

“What does it mean?” Skyla asked.

Baldur shook his head. “Nothing good. Mjölnir would never leave Magni unless it was taken from him unwittingly or if he lost the will to possess it.”

“Lost his will?” Skyla asked. “Like…” She swallowed and started again. “Like, if he died?”

“It only means he’s lost the force of will required to possess Mjölnir. Something terrible has happened, but I cannot presume to know what.”

“He’s not dead,” I said. I told Baldur and Skyla about Asgard and what Thorin had said in Idun’s garden about not being able to leave. “You can go there and get him, Baldur. You can make him leave.”

Baldur shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Not without knowing where Magni’s corporeal body is. His godhood cannot exist in this plane without his body.”

“Are you saying Asgard is, like, an afterlife or something? You have to be a spirit to go there?”

“Not an afterlife. Just an alternate plane of existence with different physical laws.”

“We have to go back to the glacier,” I said. “When I lose things, I always look in the last place I saw them.”

“He’s not a set of keys. You’re in no condition to go traipsing around Mount Rainier. You nearly froze to death, Solina.”

“If Thorin hadn’t come for me, I probably would have. He came for you when you needed him, too, Baldur. You’re going to abandon him when he needs the favor returned?”

Baldur’s face crumpled. “No, but I’ve got Nina to think about, and keeping you safe is above everything else.”

I squawked and pounded a fist on my thigh. “Why can’t you just blip over there and take a look?”

Baldur sucked in a deep breath and blew it out in a rush. “Yes. I can do that much, at least.”

“Skyla,” I asked, “are you still planning to go back to the Aerie?”

Skyla shrugged. “Well, I was—”

“Good. Just promise me you’ll make time to look for Val.”

“Solina, you know how I—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said. “We’re not going to abandon people every time a little bit of trouble comes along. If you find Val, tell him everything he’s missed.” I turned and pointed at Baldur. “You get your ass back up that mountain and find out what happened to Thorin and Grim.”

Baldur shook his head and gave me a defeated smile. “Are you sure you’re not fully Aesir? You command like a full-blooded goddess.”

I braced my hands on my hips and managed to peer down my nose at him despite his height advantage. “I’m a fast learner.”