Dead Embers (8 page)

And Joshua.

Looking up at him through my lashes, my heart drummed to the
beat of guilt. He must have sensed me staring. He looked up and our eyes met
across the table. My heart jumped again, but those deep black eyes no longer
burned with anger, or accusation either—just concern, mirrored in the creased
frown on his forehead. The slight curve of his lips formed a kind smile, more
hurtful than the verbal lashing I deserved. I shivered and looked down. I
wasn't sure I could trust myself to spar with a friend again.

When I glanced back up, Joshua was still watching me with a
sad yet contemplative expression. He held my gaze, as if trying to comb through
my mind for an explanation for the whole psycho-Bryn episode that morning.
Never was I happier for an interruption than when Fen rose, took his place at
the end of the long table and yelled for silence.

"Very well, team. We have gathered to get acquainted
and to familiarize ourselves with the plan for our visit to Midgard." Fen
launched into an in-depth explanation of our mission: something about North
Africa and the drop in new Warrior recruits and how the scout teams were spread
around the globe in small groups that struggled to find new
einherjar
.
Eager to get going, I leaned forward to interrupt and ask Fen when we would be
leaving, but he silenced me with a dark scowl. I still wasn't on proper
speaking terms with him, so I clamped my mouth shut and waited.

"We have a team of nine. Each Warrior and Valkyrie has
their respective Ulfr partners. I trust you will take every opportunity to get
to know each other better. Above everything, we need to maintain the utmost
trust in our partners. Our lives may depend on it."

After a few more minutes, Fen rounded up his presentation,
and everyone rose to their feet; the room filled with the rustling of clothing,
the clinking of swords and armor and the scraping of wood on wood as benches
were moved aside. Around me, Warriors and Ulfr paired off with each other.

Everyone except for me.

I frowned. Why the hell was nobody bothering to tell me who
my Ulfr was? The others, deep in conversation with their new partners, walked
two-by-two down the hall to another great table, where a gaggle of Huldra
served food and Mead, along with cheerful grins and smiling eyes. I followed
alone. It reminded me I'd always been alone and should be used to it.

That was the simple truth of it. People left. There are
always some, like my mother, who just up and leave because they want to. And
then there are those who die on you. My fisted fingers trembled beneath the
table, and I stretched and squeezed them, hoping to shake off the strange heat
building beneath my flesh.

At least I still had Joshua. I hoped. Even though he'd also
gone and died on me, thanks to the Fates' intervention he now sat across the
table from me, chatting with his Ulfr partner and wolfing down roasted beef and
fresh-baked bread, as if I'd only imagined the crunching of metal and the
deadly accident.

Nearby, Sigrun grinned and talked to a large, muscle-bound
Ulfr whose chiseled features could only be described as lupine.

A touch at my arm drew my attention to Mika, my Ulfr
sparring partner from a while back. Her smooth, pale skin and almond eyes never
failed to surprise me. She didn't look much like the other Ulfr. Mika seemed
too beautiful for the whole snarling, toothy, hairy wolf thing.

"Hello, Bryn." She sat beside me, sliding a mug
toward me. I wrinkled my nose, not keen on drinking more of the awful Asgard
ale, and she laughed. "What? Don't you like it?"

"Ick. How can you drink that stuff?" I rolled my
eyes and pushed the mug away.

Mika's giggle coaxed a weak smile from me. "Oh, no.
It's not the usual ale," she said. "This is a lovely apple cider that
we buy in the village." She pushed the mug toward me again, but as she
spoke, she flicked her gaze across the table toward Joshua.

Joshua paused in his conversation with his Ulfr partner and
returned her smile, and even in my sour mood I could see the chemistry flash
between them.

Joshua and Mika? No way.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Joshua and an Ulfr?

For want of something to do, I wrapped my fingers around the
carved mug, forced them to stop shaking and took a tiny, careful sip at first,
in case it was some kind of trick. But it wasn't. The cider filled my mouth,
teasing my taste buds with pure divine goodness. Not as honey-sweet as the
Mead, but just as delicious.

"Thank you." I grinned, a little warm and fuzzy
from Mika's drink. When a slightly flushed Joshua leaned forward and introduced
himself to Mika, I watched in silent amusement. It didn't take long before I
concentrated on sipping my cider slowly, keen to avoid looking at the two of
them blushing and making goo-goo eyes at each other, preferring to enjoy my
drink without the cringe factor, thank you very much.

At last Mika tore her gaze from Joshua's and leaned closer
to me. "Everyone is very eager to leave for Midgard, you know."

I nodded politely, probably the only one reluctant to return
to Midgard. The loneliness of it punched me in the gut.

"Well, I see the two of you are getting
acquainted," Fen remarked, tapping the shoulder of the Ulfr next to Joshua
and nodding a dismissal; the Ulfr rose, bowed and hurried away. Fen sank into
the vacated seat beside Joshua, eyes flitting from the younger man to Mika and
back again.

Joshua's smile thinned, and he responded with a hesitant
up-and-down motion that looked more like a tic than a nod. He looked away from
the Ulfr general, his gaze running smack into Mika's. Then he scanned the room
as if desperate for someone to call him away. I held in a giggle, partly amazed
and partly amused—and, oddly, partly annoyed—as Joshua sat there, torn between
his fear of Fen and his attraction to Mika.

"Excuse me," he croaked as he rose from his seat.
"I have to . . ." He made his getaway, not bothering to finish the
thought, leaving Fen, Mika and I to stare after him.

Fen shrugged. "Bryn, I have not told you who your Ulfr
is yet." He glanced at Mika, and they shared an odd look.

I held my tongue, knowing that if I opened my mouth I'd no
doubt say something I couldn't retract. My anger with Fen tested my
self-control.

He seemed to understand, giving me a tiny nod. "Mika
will be your Ulfr," he said softly.

Mika's eyebrows shot in the air, her surprise way too
obvious. "But you said—"

Fen cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I have
changed my mind."

Mika scowled. "You do realize that means you will be
Joshua's Ulfr?"

Fen bristled at her dry, disrespectful tone, and I laughed
so loud I almost choked as I hurried to swallow the last sip of my divine
drink.

"You and Joshua?" I asked, not even bothering to
swallow my giggle.

Fen looked puzzled. His brow wrinkled as he asked,
"What? Why is that a problem?"

Mika and I exchanges incredulous stares, both shaking our
heads. For a while, I forgot my anger.

"You have some work to do then, Fen," I remarked.
"You wouldn't want poor old Joshua to get nervous and slice you in two by
accident, would you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Joshua is a tiny bit afraid of you, Fen." It had
been on the tip of my tongue to refer to Fen as the big bad wolf, but again I
had the good sense to shut up.

Fen shrugged. "Fear can be a useful tool for a
Warrior," he said, rising and dismissing us with a single stern nod.
"So can rest. I suggest you get some. We will start our mission at
dawn."

I raised my eyebrows, unsure how Joshua's fear of Fen would
make him a better Warrior. I ignored the temptation to voice my thoughts.

An insidious chill crept down my spine. When it came to
being a better warrior, I was pretty sure there was one thing I had over the
rest of the team.

A strange brand of unadulterated rage.

A loud knock roused me from a deep sleep—a Huldra with an
urgent summons from old One-Eye. In the thick of night, I hurried to Odin's
Hall to find the All-Father awaiting our arrival. But no Fen. There Odin sat,
looking minuscule on the large seat of his throne: an old, one-eyed man,
hunched over his hand-carved cane—the simple, unassuming form in which the god
usually appeared. Guess he liked to look nondescript. Better than scaring the
shizzles out of us in his true gigantic form.

Odin leaned against the marble arm, his head slightly tilted
as he concentrated on the huge black raven on his shoulder. Hugin or Munin; I
had no idea. Both identical birds represented thought and memory, bringing the
knowledge of the world to Odin himself, as he watched over the realms from
Asgard. What news had the bird brought today to cause that worried furrow in
Odin's brow?

"What's going on?" I whispered to Sigrun, who wore
an equally urgent scowl on her face.

"We have just returned with the most recent locations.
And as Fen is still in Midgard, the All-Father will give us our individual
Retrievals."

"What? Why didn't Fen come back?" It didn't make
sense at all.

"I do not know. Perhaps the All-Father will
explain." Sigrun gave my arm a reassuring squeeze before she turned to the
dais and waited patiently for Odin to speak.

I nodded to myself and joined the rest of the Valkyries and
Warriors and Ulfr before the dais. Even after months in Asgard, I still never
failed to scan this room with reverent awe. Everywhere the eye met wood, all
carved in the intricate, snaking patterns of the old Norse tradition. High,
carved ceilings crested above countless fat pillars, but the most remarkable
sight decorated the far end of the hall: two enormous thrones topping the
raised wooden dais, where Odin now waited.

"Sigrun, my dear, please hand these out." Odin
gave her a stack of papers. She glanced down at them and looked startled and a
little confused, and for a brief instant met my eye. Then she began to move
around the room passing out papers to the gathered teams.

She stopped next to me and handed me the last paper.

"Bryn, on this mission Fenrir will be your
partner," said Sigrun, her smooth forehead marred by a frown. I swallowed
a groan, not looking forward to the prospect of spending time with Fen; he was
my least favorite person in the world right now.

"Oh? Not Mika? And didn't you just say Fen is still in
Midgard?"

Sigrun nodded. "It does seem strange, does it
not?" After a short pause she shrugged, "We will find out soon
enough."

"So where are we off to this time?" I steered the conversation
away from the topic of Fen, not wanting to remind her of my anger with the love
of her life. She always felt the need to be helpful, and I preferred she stay
out of my fight. I intended to deal with Fen all by myself.

Still, it was strange that Fen had summoned me and not
Joshua.

Sigrun's cheery smile returned. "Your location is on
the paper, and Fenrir will meet you there."

I scanned the letters on the page. In black, bold type were
four words: Orange County, Los Angeles.

Guess I was going to LA.

***

"If you are ready just close your eyes."

I rolled my eyes instead. "Come on, Sigrun, it's the
Bifrost. I've done this before."

Been there, done that, put out the fire.

"This time is different. Because we do not have Fen's
specific location, only Fen can direct your journey on the Bifrost."

"What? So you mean I just close my eyes and he pulls me
through?" My voice raised just the tiniest bit at on the last word.

Sigrun nodded.

I shook my head vigorously. "Nuh uh. No way." Such
a scenario put me at Fen's mercy, zipping through the Bifrost, totally blind to
where I would end up.

"Stop being a big baby and close your eyes. But if you
want Fenrir to chew your hair off then that is fine with me."

I snorted.

"What is wrong?" Sigrun's eyes darkened, annoyed at
my amusement at her expense.

"It's
bite my head off
not
chew my hair off
,"
I said, grinning, yet also pleased that my friend was trying to learn my native
slang. It meant I could help her get rid of her overly formal way of speaking.
Then maybe I could kid around and tease her without being afraid I'd offend
her. Besides, being more Midgard-savvy would help her now that she'd be
travelling to my world more often.

"Are you ready?" she asked, trying very hard to
look stern and hide the gleam in her own eyes. At least she had a sense of
humor.

My nerves were a tangled web of worry vines as I prepared
for my first time going to Midgard as a full-fledged Valkyrie scout. The
muscles in my limbs rippled with tension, and my wings fluttered behind me,
echoing my nerves.

Get a grip, Bryn
. This was the job they had trained
me for, and it meant more than my last trip, chasing across the country on a
quest for Freya's amber necklace.

I forced myself to relax and shut my eyes, clearing my mind
so Fen could call me to him.

The Bifrost turned my stomach a few times clockwise and then
repeated the action in reverse. I knew I shouldn't hate these rides, really I
shouldn't. How could a girl complain about a means of travel both
scientifically impossible and amazingly enchanting?

My feet hit ground and I tensed, feeling the impact of
gravity on my body, wings and armor. I sucked in a cool breath and steadied
myself, aware of the darkness surrounding me, aware I had pretty much no idea
where the hell I was.

I dropped to my knees, throwing my glamor close around me.
Only then did I take a moment to study my surroundings. It never failed to
amaze me where in the world the Bifrost opened. I squatted near a
litter-clogged stream beneath a bridge that in the cloying darkness seemed heavy
and threatening.