Dead Embers (20 page)

Tyra leaned before me and ran her fingers over the pursed
ridges of the mouth of the wound. A tender warmth infused the round, rough
scar, and I jumped.

"Very well." She straightened, and I dropped my
armor back in place and tugged the black coat back on. I tamped down the urge
to shudder at being laid bare to this stranger. Such a reaction might get me in
trouble.

Tyra frowned, then nodded slowly. "The wound displays
the typical signs of being hindered in its healing by small amounts of a
poison. Undoubtedly the result of drinking the Mead."

"I thought it would help me heal faster, but it did
nothing for me." I shrugged, not too keen on raking through those
memories. "Aidan needed the Mead more than I did, so I kept it for
him."

"Aidan? Ah, yes, the young man Steinn told me about.
The one whose life depended on the return of that foolish girl's trinket."
I blinked in surprise. Had she just referred to Freya as a girl? Strange.

Tyra retreated a few steps, pausing to stir the dead embers
in the fireplace. The dragon queen leaned forward and blew a thin stream of golden
flame upon the cold ashes, bringing the dead remains back to life with the
softest of touches.

Despite my annoyance and the slight touch of fear I felt for
the forbidding woman, I was pretty impressed. She sure had fire skills.

"So where is the young Warrior?"

"In Hel," I said, and enjoyed the startled
expression in her cool eyes. "The Mead weakened him so much that when we
were attacked and he was stabbed with a poisoned spear, he was unable to
recover. . . ."

I gripped the strap of my satchel and stared down at the
sleeping girl, so innocent of the accusations that flew around her. "He's
asleep just like your granddaughter. Odin sent him to Hel. He said that Hel was
the only place that the poison wouldn't kill Aidan."

Tyra's eyes narrowed. "Why would Odin say that?"

"Something about Loki's poison and how it doesn't work
in the underworlds," I answered. The truth finally clicked into place for
me, one tiny fragment at a time, and I whispered my next words. "Loki's
poison. A viper's poison."

"Did you say Loki's poison?" The dragon's voice
rumbled, the low thunder of her words echoing around the room as she strode
toward me. "Explain what you mean."

It was not a request.

"After we left Muspell, we returned to Asgard. Loki
attacked us there, wanted Brisingamen. He'd been after the necklace the whole
time." I gritted my teeth, not enjoying my trip down memory lane.
"Loki stabbed Aidan with a poison-tipped spear. Aidan was already too weak
by then. His body just couldn't fight the poison, and he fell into a deep
sleep."

She stood before me now, listening carefully, and the tight
corners of her eyes softened as we shared a certain sorrow.

"I see that you understand our pain," she said,
her voice still edged with sadness. "Perhaps this is a good thing."

"It does seem that we have the same problem," I
answered softly.

"You must make haste, Brynhildr. We do not know how
fast the poison will act or if it may eventually kill them. But remember one
thing, Valkyrie." The muscles in her face tightened as she spoke. "Do
whatever it takes to obtain a cure. If you fail, I will personally kill
you."

I blinked, my heart thundering at her words. Having my life
threatened was not the most calming of experiences. "But I thought you
understood this wasn't my fault."

She shook her head, her cold, gold eyes unforgiving and
hard. "You brought this evil to our door, Valkyrie. If you had not come to
Muspell for Steinn's help, Siri's future would have played out very
differently."

I bristled. How dare this woman blame me for the girl's predicament?
Just seconds ago she'd seemed to understand, to sympathize with what Aidan had
gone through. Now she was back to blaming Bryn. Figures. Nothing much changes
in life, I guess.

I wanted to tell her what I thought of her, to scream out my
defenses, but she chose that very moment, when my anger was at its most potent,
to glance again at the sleeping girl. Pure love and pain and despair swirled
within the golden flames of her eyes.

It was enough to bring my jaw to a clanging close. I
understood so well what she was going through. Maybe not as a grandparent but
as a loved one. I'd lost everyone throughout my sorry life. Everyone. But I
still had hope that things would change. Guess I was slowly becoming a
glass-half-full kinda girl.

I lifted my chin and met Lady Tyra's eyes. "I'll do my
best, my lady." But it was a promise to Aidan, too. Whatever I did, it was
for Aidan first. A cure for Siri meant a cure for the boy who still lay
comatose in the frigid arms of Hel. The sooner I got my act together and found
the cure, the better.

Lady Tyra glided toward a small half-circle table that sat
before the window. She had a strange way of walking, as if she moved on wheels
or floated. Weird.

A bronze box sat upon the table's polished wood surface,
firelight and dragon light glinting off the carved veneer.

She carried the box to me, bearing it on her flattened
palms. Etchings of dragons curled around the sides. For one amazing second it
seemed as if they moved. As I stared harder, one dragon turned its head toward me
and stared back; bright red ruby stone eyes met my gaze. Then it blinked very
slowly. My jaw dropped, and the dragon froze in place.

More weird.

Tyra slipped her finger beneath the ancient catch and lifted
the lid, revealing a liquid red silk. Within the shimmering fabric lay an amber
ball that had all the signs of being alive. A flame flickered and danced within
the confines of the translucent orange sphere.

"Take it." The woman clearly didn't understand the
concept of requests.

Transfixed, I held the ball with great care, surprised by
its warmth, and transferred it to the palm of one hand. Although the flame
shimmered within its center, the whole sphere gave me the impression of an
eyeball. As creepy as it was, it still looked beautiful—until it shocked me so
badly I almost dropped it on the floor.

The bloody ball blinked at me.

"It is disconcerting, but it is nothing to be afraid
of," Tyra said, a smile in her voice.

"I'm not afraid." My answer was automatic, out
before I could stop it. I didn't bother to look at her. Couldn't, in fact. My
attention focused solely on the amber sphere that had just freakin' blinked at
me.
Nothing to be afraid of? Yeah, right. I'm not supposed to be afraid of a
freakin' ball that has the very unnatural ability to blink.

"Keep it with you at all times. The eye of Nidhogg will
watch over you."

There. She did it. She had to go and say "eye."
Great!

"What is it supposed to do?" I was curious, of
course. I didn't make a practice of hauling around dragon's eyes just for the
fun of it.

"It will keep you safe. That is all you need to know at
this time, Valkyrie Brynhildr." Lady Tyra's voice cooled as she met my
gaze, her eyes matching the frigidity of her voice. "Remember this. If you
are unsuccessful—if Siri, daughter of Steinn, heir to the kingdom of Nidhogg,
dies—I will kill you."

I tried to answer her, but what escaped my lips sounded like
a frog with a cold. I resorted to clearing my throat and nodding my head.

Lady Tyra smiled at me. A cool, threatening farewell.

Around her, a mist of gold shimmered and swirled until it
thickened. Then my eyes confirmed what I'd already suspected. Steinn's mother
slowly swirled into a cloud of golden dust. The tornado of gold mist spun
before me, then collapsed onto itself and disappeared into thin air.

***

I had to admit it. As far as dramatic exits went, the golden
tornado mist of Lady Tyra topped every one, hands down.

Tucking the dragon's eye into my coat pocket, I made a
mental note to speak to Fen about the design of the new, slimmer version of the
chainmail. What we needed were pockets.

I slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me
despite knowing nothing in the world could awaken the sleeping beauty, least of
all a door slamming shut.

Mika leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded, jaw
rigid. She was still scowling.

"Are you done?" She raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, let's go."

"Back to Asgard?"

I nodded.

"Very good, then. But you better be ready for it."

"Ready for what?"

"Do not tell me you are so naive," Mika scoffed.
"You deserted. Fenrir, and Odin will be furious at this breach of
protocol."

"Well, then I guess you and I will just have to explain
ourselves, won't we?" I put a cheery edge into my voice. "You did
want to come with me, Mika. And even if you felt the need to protect me, you're
still as guilty as I am of desertion. I don't think even having a dad in high
places will get you off this one without a good explanation."

The look Mika threw me would've frozen a river of lava
solid. I laughed.
Still so sensitive, Mika?

I laid my fingers on her forearm and hoped she wouldn’t pull
away. "What's wrong? What did I say? I was only teasing, you know." I
wondered what Mika wasn't telling me. Perhaps there were father-daughter issues
that she just didn't want to discuss.

Mika's eyes darted away, then flicked back to my face, as if
in that brief millisecond of thought she'd decided what her response would be.
"That is your downfall, you know. You just cannot take things
seriously."

I laughed and shrugged, relieved to see her answering grin.
"Come on. Let's go home."

We hurried into the first passage and came upon Steinn,
seated on the little rocky outcropping, scraping his long fingers through his
dark golden hair. He got to his feet, looking slightly startled and very, very
worried. "I see you are ready to go."

"I have as much information as I could get. I'm sorry,
Steinn. I never meant to bring this to your home."

He laid a palm on my shoulder. "Silly child, of course
this is not your fault. I just need your help to find a cure."

Steinn may not have blamed me, but his mother sure had. What
would he say if I told him that Móðir dearest had threatened to kill me if I
failed in this task? But he had enough on his mind right now. The last thing I
wanted was to weigh him down with further worry.

He guided us back toward the Bifrost, and I followed, paying
scant attention, my mind focused on the breadth of Loki's cruel mischief.

God or not, he'd better watch his ass.

We followed Steinn toward the Muspell entrance to the
Bifrost. This time the journey seemed to take forever. Plenty of time for me to
dwell on the weight of guilt I bore. So many ifs.

If Aidan hadn't come to Craven, he'd be a normal, healthy
human kid right now. If we hadn't been so careless, Astrid wouldn't have seen
us making out in Valhalla, and then Freya would never have known she had the
power to manipulate me using Aidan. If we hadn't been so complacent about Loki,
we would've been prepared for his attack and Aidan wouldn't have been stabbed.
If I'd just had nothing to do with him, he'd be a powerful Warrior now instead
of lying comatose in Hel.

And if none of this had ever happened, we wouldn't have met,
and I wouldn't have learned how wrong I'd been about giving my heart away. It
had been worth it just to experience a little bit of exhilarating joy. And yet
a part of me paused. Why had I stopped when I meant to say I loved him?
Instead, my instinct chose the word
care
. My feelings for Aidan had
rollercoastered ever since the first day we'd met. From instant attraction to
heated dislike to heated kisses. Nothing had ever followed a normal trajectory
with us. He'd even deserted me when I'd needed him most. And if I was being
really honest with myself, we'd barely had a real relationship. The closest
we'd come to a date was a burger and fries in a dingy motel room somewhere
between Illinois and New York State.

I longed to see him again. And have him hold me close again.
Maybe once I got him back, we'd be able to try the whole normal couple thing,
figure out what it was that we had with each other that was more than just
rapid heartbeats and hot kisses. Besides, we had a lifetime to figure it out,
what with being almost immortal and all.

My fingers found the smooth surface of the dragon's sphere
in my pocket. I made to draw it out, to study it further, but instinct kept my
hand within the private darkness of the pocket. Tyra's warning hadn't gone
unheeded.

I twisted the ball within my fingers, again trying to
understand what it could be. It certainly wasn't the eye of a real dragon. Or
was it? No, it was silly to even contemplate such a thing. It was just a
magical ball given to me by the dragon matriarch for protection. She wouldn't
put me in danger while I tried to find a way to save her granddaughter's life.
Would she?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Tyra knew I was an
asset. The best thing to do was just go with it. That didn't mean I had to
trust Steinn's mother, no matter how powerful she was. But right now I needed
all the help I could get, and I didn't see anyone else getting in line to offer
me aid of any sort.

I bore in mind that Tyra had a strong stake in this—the life
of her bloodline. What had she said? That Siri was heir to the Nidhogg throne.
That, right there, was a majorly good reason to find a cure. And soon.

At the bridge, Steinn sent us through with a cool nod to
Mika and a slightly more effusive hug for me. This time the swirling,
multi-colored beauty of the bridged entrance failed to grab my attention. I
couldn't help the sadness that filled me. Mika, on the other hand, gazed at the
array of rainbow colors, as startled and entranced as I'd been on my first trip
back from Muspell.