Dead Embers (10 page)

Fen bowed stiffly. "We have news that is both upsetting
and confusing, my lord."

"What is it, Fenrir? Why are you all back, and without
your new
einherjar
?"

Fen related our experience to Odin, and I wasn't surprised
when Mika stepped forward with a similar story. She'd been in Dublin, on her
way to retrieve a news reporter, but things hadn't gone to plan. Mika described
an oily black gloop and the absence of a glow.

Odin's single grey eye darkened with concern. "This is
strange and very unusual. Fenrir, what do you think is happening to our
Warriors?"

"Whatever it is, we need to find out. And soon. We
cannot afford to lose even one Warrior." Fen's voice wavered on the last
word.

"Very well. I—" Odin paused mid-sentence,
interrupted by one of his birds whispering in his ear. Hugin or Munin.

The raven perched on his shoulder, liquid eyes gleaming as
it tilted its little head toward the ear of the god. Odin listened and quietly
asked a few questions. I strained my ears and heard the words "when"
and "was anyone there?"

A few seconds later, the bird fluttered away in a flourish
of black wings.

A single dark and glossy feather swayed and looped in the
cool air, making half a dozen wide curves as it descended. I stuck my hand out,
and the sooty feather landed in the center of my palm. And though I couldn't be
certain it was Hugin's, the soft, warm touch of the feather reassured me
somehow.

Another rush of air announced the swift departure of Odin.
With a distracted wave of his hand, he beckoned to us all to follow him, and we
hurried in his wake. What could possibly be so urgent to get the great god of
war running as if the very hounds of hell were hot on his heels?

He strode ahead and we followed, running to keep up. Down a
passage, across a stone hallway, through more passages until we came to a
corridor similar to the one that led to my own quarters in the palace. Odin
approached an open door on the left. Inside, a girl waited, distraught, her
eyes red-rimmed and all cried out.

She rose and began to sob again, but Odin lifted his hand.
"Hush, child. It will not help for you to cry. We need to know what
happened."

She palmed the moisture from her cheeks, then rubbed her
hands onto the rough brown fabric of her skirt. "I came in to give him his
breakfast as I do every morning, but he was not here. Everything is still here,
all his belongings. . . ." Her eyes filled and threatened to spill tears
again. "They have searched all over Asgard. He is gone, my lord."

Odin's face darkened as a storm of concern, worry and
foreboding broiled there. "Thank you, child. You may return to your
quarters. We will try to find him."

The girl scurried from the room, tears still dripping from
her blotched face. As she slipped out, a flash of red tail peeked out from her
skirts. The poor girl was a Huldra. The forest sprites seemed to love to serve
in Odin's palace, and everywhere I went I encountered them. It hadn't taken me
long to get used to the Huldra, but the tail still got to me. Strange that a
girl could look so normal and yet have a tail.

Then again, a girl with wings was pretty odd in itself, so I
squashed my thoughts and concentrated on the strange missing person they were
talking about.

Before I could ask Odin who the missing Warrior was, the
door swung open and Joshua and Aimee ran into the room. Aimee's blotchy cheeks,
the tears in her eyes and the shell-shocked expression on Joshua's face sent my
stomach plummeting.

Odin turned to me then, but after seeing Joshua's and
Aimee's slumped, haggard bodies, I already knew what he would say.

"Brody is missing."

***

As if fate had decided that Bryn Halbrook didn't have enough
to worry about, now I had to lose Brody from right under my nose. Worse, I hadn't
even thought about him in days.

A numb haze blanketed me; thick, suffocating, smothering.
This could not be happening. I tried to walk and my stupid legs wouldn't work.
Hands grabbed my arms, and I paid no attention to who held me. My mind flashed
back to the week I'd discovered that Brody was a Warrior. The utter despair I'd
felt in those bleak days, the anger that I was unable to do anything to save my
little foster brother, returned now in a nauseating rush.

I swallowed tears, my throat convulsing as I tried to hold
back the urge to sob. I should have made a better effort to find Brody, to see
him and reassure him that I was here for him.

Now it was too late.

Soft, warm fingers grasped mine, and I turned to face the
goddess Frigga, who smiled sadly at me.

"My dear child. It may sound terrible to say this, but
you really have no time to waste with tears and sadness." Her voice, so
gentle, calmed me. I had the vague sense that the room had emptied. Even Odin
had withdrawn, leaving his wife to comfort me. "We have to do everything
we can to find him. And that means you will need to go back to Midgard."

"But what about Aidan?"

"Aidan is safe where he is. The poison lives within his
blood. He is no better and no worse, and while he lies in Hel, the deadly poison
can do no harm. You must allow this knowledge to free you to do what you need
for Brody."

Frigga's words rang in my ears, and even though I rebelled
against them, they penetrated my fear and my grief and even my guilt long
enough to make me aware how right she was. There was nothing I could do for
Aidan. All the self-pity in the world wouldn't change the black fact that
nobody had any idea how to free Aidan from Loki's poison. That meant Aidan
would stay in Hel until Freya found an antidote. Until then, the last thing I
should do was sit around waiting for an antidote to smack Freya in the head.

Frigga was right. We had to figure out who had taken Brody,
and how it was even possible for him to disappear from Asgard without anyone
knowing. Only the gods had the ability to manipulate the Bifrost for their own
needs. I stiffened—there was one obvious suspect.

"Loki?" I asked, my voice tangled and strange.

Frigga nodded her head. "That was the first place Odin
checked. Loki is gone. How, we do not know. But Odin believes Loki is
responsible for Brody's disappearance. Mimir speaks to Odin more often these
days. It is Mimir's telling that places blame at Loki's feet."

I barely heard the end of the goddess's sentence. My mind
twisted with anger, and a silent promise. If it was the last thing I did, I
would somehow find a way to kill the trickster god Loki.

We would leave again soon. Not soon enough, as far as I was
concerned. What I really wanted was to talk to Mimir myself, but the thought of
interrogating a bodyless head gave me the creeps. I had to settle for Odin's
word that when the time came, we would know where Brody was and how to save
him.

And in the meantime we waited.

I nodded to myself, strengthening my resolve and squaring my
shoulders in preparation for the task at hand. Turi strode into my room,
elbowing the door shut, her arms laden with garments.

She placed a new set of armor on my bed. I frowned at the
strange-looking chainmail. Although the weight of the armor pressed deep into
the fur blankets covering the bed, it certainly didn't look like much to me.

"These are new." She bobbed her head as I stared
from the armor to her face. "The metalworkers had specific orders from
Fenrir to create these for the scout team. Strange, but special."

I rose and held the armor up to me, surprised to find a set
of two separate pieces. Top and bottom. They reminded me of thermal underwear,
only made of chainmail. My fingers traced the fine metal links, setting off a
trail of tiny sparks.

Turi clapped her hands and giggled. "That is the best
part. They have a little magic woven into them."

"Really?" Despite my dark mood, I was intrigued.

"Yes, Glasir magic," Turi said, nodding with
vigor. "It was Frigga's idea. Melt some of the leaves of the golden tree
and mix it with the metal for the chainmail. She thought it might strengthen
the mail, and truly it has. All the teams traveling to Midgard will be using
them. Fenrir says the metal is almost impenetrable now."

Glasir-Kevlar. Pretty cool. My last trip to Asgard had been
with the normal, heavy and bulky chainmail armor that I'd somehow gotten used
to over the last few months.

I fingered the Glasir leaf curving around my finger,
twisting it around and around. It was now my only adornment, my throat
conspicuously bare of jewels. I still felt bereft at the loss of my father's
pendant. The warmth of the Brisingamen stone had once provided succor and
solace through all those times when everything had been too much to handle.
With the stone back where it truly belonged, back on the famed and beautiful
neck of the goddess Freya, my neck lay bare.

As far as I was concerned, she could have it. I'd be happy
with Aidan back safe and sound.

"Come now. You must dress and meet the others at the
Bifrost." Turi fussed over me like a lady's maid, eager to help me
undress, and even though it was perfectly easy getting into the armor, I
couldn't swat her away as I would've liked. There were enough people around
here with hurt feelings already. So I held my tongue and allowed her to fit me
into the new, modernized Valkyrie armor.

Once dressed, I inspected the armor as it clung to my body
like a second skin. I never would have guessed, when it lay flat on the bed,
that it would act almost like a body glove, hugging me from neck to toe.

Turi had also brought a pair of black pants made from a
strange, oily leather-like material that felt like velvet. Too weird. A neat
black top and a matching black leather-velvet coat completed the ensemble. I
liked this new outfit very much, especially the way the coat fell to mid-calf,
silky smooth and black as night. Good for hiding amongst shadows.

One pair of black thick-soled boots later and I was ready to
go.
But what's the deal with the whole attire change?
Turi just shrugged
when I asked, so I could do little else besides thank her for her help, collect
my sword and leave to meet the team at the transfer room.

Midgard and Brody waited.

***

The team assembled and exchanged quick greetings. Joshua
threw a fleeting, almost nervous grin in my direction. I was about to return it
when I realized that he was either a tad cross-eyed or he wasn't looking at me
at all. A glance over my shoulder confirmed that his eyes were only for Mika.
She stepped up beside me, her long black hair parted in the middle, framing a
relaxed, almost bored expression.

As she tightened her sword belt and checked all her hidden
weapons—the knife in her boot, another strapped to her thigh—only the faint
pink tinge at her cheeks confirmed she'd noticed Joshua noticing her. I
snorted, the sound barely carrying in the melee of pre-departure preparation.
But all the noticing going on around me failed to distract me from my worries.

I refocused my attention. Grabbing an extra sword, I tested
its weight, then paused to examine its strange shoulder-strapped scabbard.
Let's
hope I don't chop my wings off, when and if I need the weapon
. I shrugged,
then strapped the sword to my back. A girl could never go wrong with a few
extra weapons.

An air of expectation hovered over the group. Warriors,
Valkyries and Ulfr alike knew this first journey of our new scout team was a
test as much as a mission. The General of the Ulfr Army himself would be
present to scrutinize our performances. Talk about pressure.

I've been through worse. I so can handle the pressure.

At least I hoped I could.

The team stood ready, all well-kitted out, and I noted the
common element of attire: black coats, dark enough for camouflage, and long
enough to hide swords and spears. Thick boots, with strong soles to withstand
plenty of running or walking, and high enough to hide more weapons.

Asgard had moved with the times, no doubt offending the
sensibilities of some of the gods. In fact, I wondered what Thor and his
brothers thought of the changes in their home realm. Changes like the rich
Irish butter we'd spread on the fresh baked bread at our meeting last night. Or
even the black olives sprinkled on the Mediterranean-style loaf at dinner two
nights ago. And I won't get started on the fresh Brazilian coffee beans.

We looked like a team of spies, which made sense, since I
guess we were going in pretty covertly anyway.

Fen gave us the all clear, and we closed our eyes. My
stomach lurched. I always felt strange on the Asgard Bifrost. Why couldn't it
be more like the Muspell Bifrost? On my mission for Freya, the trip back to
Asgard from the realm of the fire giants had been the most beautiful by far,
almost as if we stood on a bridge spun from the colors of a rainbow. The colors
were beyond magnificent, and I often wished our dull, dark and dreary Bifrost
would liven itself up a bit. Maybe Stein, the dragon king, could give Odin some
pointers. Then at least I'd notice my hurdy-gurdy stomach less.

We materialized, blinded by bright sunlight, sucking in
great gulps of hot air. I blinked against the brightness.
A little
forewarning would've been nice, Fen
. I tugged my sunglasses from my pocket
and smashed them onto my face.

The warmth of sunshine bathed my skin, something I didn't
feel very much in Asgard's frigid climes. I sighed, remembering how much I'd
loved the sun in my pre-Asgard existence.

We'd arrived in the plant-filled courtyard of a white-washed
double-story house. The team shuffled around as we scanned the area, in case
our arrival had been witnessed by an unsuspecting resident of this beautiful
home. We waited, but even though dozens of doors opened out onto the courtyard,
not a soul stirred.