Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (23 page)

BOOK: Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1)
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She just started to stand up when she heard the creak of floorboards and approaching steps. A moment later, a man appeared in the doorway next to the fireplace. He was so tall that he had to bend down so as not to bump his head on the door frame, and wore a neatly trimmed beard. His light brown, semi-long hair was already turning gray at the temples. When he saw Arvid, he smiled.

“It’s good to see that you’re better,” he said. His voice was friendly, deep and melodious. He approached with slow steps.

Arvid cleared her throat. “Thank you for letting me in,” she said.

“You don’t have to thank me,” replied the man. “I heard the demons, but didn’t expect anyone to be out there in this weather. These beasts are a real plague. What were they? Scouts?”

Arvid hesitated. “I, uh… I’m not sure,” she admitted. “They were tall and slim and had long tails.”

“Black?” the man asked as he grabbed a chair and sat down at the table.

“Yes,” Arvid said. “Are there demons that aren’t black?”

The bearded man burst out laughing and shook his head. Arvid all of a sudden felt very stupid.

“You don’t seem to know much about demons,” said the man. “You don’t look like you’re from around here either. Where are you from?”

“From the south,” Arvid said evasively. She knew that there were people looking for her out there, and as friendly and helpful the man looked, he was still a stranger whom she couldn’t just trust blindly. She had no idea what action Asgard had taken after her escape.

“I understand,” the man said, looking at her seriously, but not unfriendly. “You’d rather not answer.”

“Would you prefer a lie instead?”

“No. I just don’t like guests that get me in trouble.”

“I will not.”

The man looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. “I have no reason not to believe you,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “My name is Beram. I’m growing herbs out here. And how may I call you?”

“Leni,” said Arvid immediately and without quite knowing why. It was the first name that had occurred to her.

“Leni?” Beram raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s hard to overlook the fact that you come from far away. May I ask where you’re traveling?”

“To the north, into the mountains,” Arvid said. There she had seen several villages on her map.

Beram frowned. “So, to the north, you say. Don’t you know that the hill country between the two rivers is notorious for its exceptionally high number of demon packs? It would be very unwise to travel alone.”

“I didn’t know that,” confessed Arvid, “but I’m not traveling alone.” She was taken aback. “Where is… my companion?”

“Oh, it’s out in the barn,” Beram said. “If you mean the stone lion, anyway. Or did you have other companions?”

Arvid shook her head. So Nod was a stone lion. She didn’t know whether it was wise to tell Beram that he was a shapeshifter, and so she didn’t. It was still a mystery to her why he didn’t take on a human form, especially now that they were here. On their journey the animal form had obviously made sense, but here?

“In four days a group from the village departs north,” Beram said. “There’s a big market in Thom. You ought to join them; it would be safer for you. In addition, our people would certainly welcome a stone lion as a companion.”

Arvid had to admit that the idea sounded tempting. After their encounter with the demons the idea of wandering through the hills alone caused her bigger worries than she would have liked. Sure, they were not completely helpless. They had chased the two demons away, although they had already been at the end of their strength. But against a larger group they had no chance.

“Where exactly is Thom?” she asked.

“Far north, at the source of the Vrenn,” Beram answered. “From there, the iron road continues into the mountains. It could be on your way.”

Arvid knew it wasn’t. Their goal was farther east, near the source of the other river.

“I’ll show you,” Beram said. He rose and shortly after came back with a map under his arm and something to eat for Arvid. It was warm bread and a steaming stew of vegetables and meat. Arvid, who had lived off her meager supplies for several days, had to pull herself together not to just scarf the food down.

Beram had unrolled a large map on the table and pointed to a spot. “We are here,” he said, “just outside the town Dordahl. Here we have the Hojdr,” he pointed to the river in the east, “and the Vrenn runs over here. It arises directly from Thom and flows all the way to the south, where it merges with the Leiptr.” Beram ran his finger along a winding line down the middle, obviously a road that was interrupted by several small villages. “The merchants will take this path here. It’s safe and provides ample opportunity for rest and warmth.”

Arvid promised to consider the offer, but in truth she was plagued by doubts. The traders would travel to Thom, which indeed wasn’t far from their destination, but still meant a detour. The towns and villages along the way provided an opportunity to rest in the shelter of a house, which was tempting, but also very dangerous. Whoever was looking for her would seek out the settlements first. There it would also quickly get around that she was wanted.

Her host kept asking her further questions, but gave up when he realized that she avoided them. Instead, he began to talk about himself. Arvid learned that he lived alone during winter. His wife had died many years ago, at the birth of his only child, and the child passed a few days later. Since then, he only had company of ever-changing servants in summer, when there was plenty of work to do. His herbs seemed to be a sought-after commodity, and so he lived a good life, despite the loneliness.

“I’m trying to visit Dordahl often,” he said. “I like to hear new stories. The messengers from the Temple City never come directly to me. In recent months, however, the number of demons has increased so much that even the short walk to the village holds its dangers.”

After dinner, at noon, they went over to the barn. The stars in the sky were covered by a steel-gray, milky layer of clouds. It was still bitterly cold. The frozen snow crunched and crackled beneath their feet.

Nod was sleeping in a pile of hay in a corner of the barn and only briefly twitched his ears as Arvid stroked his bushy fur. She saw some half-chewed bones beside him and saw that his leg was also carefully bandaged.

Apart from Nod and two goats the stall was empty. It seemed to serve as a pantry and storage place for tools and other equipment. Again, the ceiling was hung with dense bundles of leaves and flowers. Beram explained that he had not kept any animals for decades, apart from the goats, who supplied him with milk. The herbs were far more rewarding, especially because they were not on a demon’s menu.

“If you don’t cause me any trouble, you may stay here until the men from the village leave for the north,” he said, as they once again stood outside and looked at the unplanted, white fields. “Some company is always good, and my larders are richly filled. It was a mild winter, thank the gods.”

Arvid didn’t want to know what a hard winter was like in this world. She was still worn by the journey, and the wound on her arm felt like it was on fire.

In the evening she visited Nod again and sat down in the hay beside him. He was awake now and put his large, soft head in her lap. Arvid told him about her conversation with Beram, and Nod’s ears moved, listening.

“Beram has invited us to stay here for a while,” she said eventually. “In a few days we could travel north together with a group from the village. I don’t know if I like the idea. But the area seems to be dangerous. We could use some help.”

Nod turned his head a little and made a low, moaning sound, then he lay still again. It was frustrating not to get any response from him. The fact that Arvid didn’t know why he took no human shape didn’t make it easier.

“We could go with them,” she said thoughtfully, more to herself than to Nod. “It’s about two days’ journey to the forest in the middle of the plain, and from there we would continue alone. And then we’d almost be there.” She sighed. “At least I think so…”

Arvid didn’t know how exact the hand-drawn map was and how difficult the search for the hiding place of a master of illusion would be. On the other hand, Loke had given her the map for a reason and probably believed that she would be able to find him. If he trusted her skills, then she should perhaps do the same.

She sank back in the fragrant hay, folding her arms behind her head. “If we should encounter demons again, do you think we could hold our own?” she asked. The thought of the fight made her heart beat faster. When the demons had appeared, she had been completely exhausted. She had been afraid, very afraid, but now she knew that this feeling was closely tied to the darkness in her. If she was honest, it had been a good feeling to play out her superiority. Suddenly she had known what to do. Without the darkness inside her she felt weak and full of doubt, but there was something she didn’t like. It was the memory of her feeling at seeing the injured demon lying on the ground. It had given her pleasure to see his fear, and Arvid was ashamed of it. It had been wrong to feel this way. She should have had compassion, even if the demons were bloodthirsty monsters, but even this emotion had been swallowed by the darkness.

Suddenly Nod raised his head. His ears were moving, twitching. Arvid looked around and listened too. However, apart from the soft rustle of the goats she couldn’t hear a thing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, lowering her voice involuntarily. Nod’s pupils were greatly dilated. Arvid’s eyes followed his, but there was nothing. Nevertheless, a queasy feeling was spreading in her. She had felt safe here in Beram’s yard—but then again, why?

Arvid got up cautiously and grabbed the dagger at her side. Heart pounding, she walked toward the door, prepared to see something emerge, but nothing happened. She peered outside, but there was nothing to see. When she looked over at the residential building to the right, she just managed to see the door falling shut.

Had Beram been out here? Had he overheard their conversation? The thought was extremely troubling, but Arvid forced herself to remain calm. This was Beram’s yard and he could have been anywhere. In the fields or in the barn on the other side. She had no reason to distrust him.

On the other hand, she didn’t have reason not to distrust him. He had helped them, sure. But what if Asgard’s people showed up and asked about a young woman with dark hair and a shapeshifter? Beram would put two and two together and sell them out for sure.

When she came back into the house, Beram was sitting at the table, a large amount of long, golden yellow grass in front of him, that he wove into narrow braids. It smelled intense, fresh and pleasant. Beram explained to her that the finished wreaths were to be placed in dormitories and supposedly kept away colds and coughs. Arvid helped him with braiding, even if she wasn’t nearly as skillful and fast as Beram. When he wasn’t looking, she watched him closely, but his face showed no telltale emotion.

After dinner and a jug of mead Beram became very talkative. He told her that he still had to finish the wreaths, which the men wanted to take to the market. Then it would be time to prepare the fields, because in less than eight weeks at noon, it was finally happening and the sun would appear on the horizon for the first time. Then everything had to be ready. Arvid learned that his fields were surrounded by rune spells, so the ground could be used for growing herbs for a significantly longer time. The plants didn’t flourish throughout the year, though, as at Horalf’s.

“Once the snow’s gone, I have to check all the circles and ensure that all the runes are intact,” said Beram. “Mostly a few touch-ups are needed. The services of runesmiths are in high demand during this period. You have to react quickly; otherwise you might lose several weeks.” He stopped and stood up from his chair. “I almost forgot. You lost your soul gem when you came in.”

Arvid’s hand automatically wandered to her throat, but her stone was still there. After a moment, she realized that Beram had not found hers. What he picked up from the mantelpiece was the leather cord with the red stone Arvid had taken from the corpse in the snow. It had probably come loose from her belt during the fight with the demons and fallen to the ground in Beram’s house.

“Oh, thank you,” Arvid said, taking the stone from his hand. “It’s not mine. I found it in the snow on the way.”

“You don’t say,” Beram replied, surprised. “One doesn’t often find such a thing; after all, most people guard their soul gems jealously.” He smiled. “I myself have a small collection of gems I found. Would you like to see them?”

Arvid said yes, and Beram disappeared and shortly afterward came back with an ornate wooden box. Under the lid were small, rectangular trays that contained soul gems in all sorts of colors. Most were tiny and oddly shaped, but Beram looked very proud.

“They aren’t valuable,” he said, “but they were all gifts or finds. I am a gray mage. My magical abilities have atrophied, but during the long winters, I have a lot of time to read.”

“Do you think that soul gems have personalities?” said Arvid.

“Something that comes close to that at least. I admit, I don’t know, but… if you concentrate, there seems to be something. Something like feelings, don’t you think?”

Arvid thought for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“There are people who believe that the color is related to the kind of personality,” Beram continued. “Red stones are said to carry malice and lust for power.” He pointed to the stone in Arvid’s hand.

Arvid looked down at it with a certain skepticism. “I can’t imagine anyone turning evil or avid for power because of a soul gem.”

“Oh, no, certainly not,” Beram said. “A soul gem doesn’t change you. It only brings out something that is already part of your soul.”

Arvid understood. “But who would ever want to emphasize such properties?”

“A soul gem doesn’t necessarily force the carrier in the direction of its own nature,” explained Beram. “Maybe greed will make you understand how valuable and noble modesty is. Maybe mercilessness would make you see the importance of indulgence. The most cruel men have had the most amiable women—because they made them better people.”

Arvid looked at him thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting thought.”

Beram went to bed early that night. Since Arvid didn’t know what else to do, she went to bed early too, but she couldn’t rest. The bench was hard and uncomfortable despite the skins, and a thousand thoughts kept running through her head.

They had lost valuable time. Sure, a break had been needed, and yet Arvid couldn’t get rid of the thought that they had spent a whole day idly while the search for them had been going on. Was it really wise to stay here for three more days, just to join a group of people who just had to read a notice or had to talk to a messenger to realize that they were looking for them?

Obviously she fell asleep eventually, because it was in the middle of the night when she was startled out of a dark, confusing dream and slowly drifted back to reality.

Shortly thereafter, she heard voices.

One of them was clearly Beram’s. He was talking to someone outside the door. Arvid couldn’t understand the words, but something in his tone alerted her.

Quietly, she got up and crept over to the kitchen. The wooden floorboards creaked softly under her weight. The noise sounded unnaturally loud in her ears, though she carefully continued her way. The door to the next room was ajar, and a cold draft told her that the front door was open.

“Don’t worry, you have plenty of time,” she heard Beram say. “She will want to join the group of traders, which travels north in three days.”

“We like to make absolutely sure,” said a man whose voice she didn’t recognize. “I’ll come back tomorrow with my people. Wait for us and don’t do anything reckless. You know what they write. She’s extremely dangerous.”

Beram chuckled. “If she really is that person,” he said mockingly. “Forgive my doubts, but she was half dead when she arrived here yesterday.”

“If she’s not, we will see,” the other person replied coolly. “I wish you a good night.”

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