Giants of the Frost (40 page)

He looked at me, slowly releasing his fingers. "I won't let it happen again," he said. I folded him into my arms and pulled him down so we lay among the furs and blankets. "Vidar, imagine if we could stay together."

"I dare not."

"Please, just for tonight. Let's imagine what it would be like. Perhaps we'll discover we're completely incompatible, then you'll be happy to go home without me."

"Don't joke about it, Victoria."

"Lighten up," I said, snuggling against his chest. "Go on. If you could, what would you do with me?" His skin was very warm and his voice vibrated in his chest. "I'd build you a little house here in the forest." His tone was so sad that I regretted asking him. "I'd gaze at you every moment and cover you in kisses, and every night we would sit by the fire and tell stories, and every day we'd walk along the beach or in the forests and nobody would ever disturb us."

"It sounds wonderful. But couldn't we leave the island? I'd miss my mum. Imagine, we could get a little flat together. You could bring me a cup of tea in bed every morning. We could have a little family." His body tensed. "No, Victoria, your blood and mine can't mix. There could be no children from our union."

I was surprised by how sad that made me. "Oh well… Dogs, then. Spoiled yappy ones."

"We would have so much love, the two of us," he said, stroking my hair. "Enough to make the universe spin and all the stars glow until Ragnarök… but it's dangerous to say such things."

"They're only words," I muttered, as sleep slipped over me. But they were more than words. They were compelling fantasies, persuasive enough to lead lovers into foolish decisions. Dawn crept under my eyelids a few hours later and I woke with a horrid churning in my guts. Lack of sleep, lack of food, the shock, who knows? I sat up, felt my whole stomach start to rise, and dashed into the woods with a blanket around me to hurl it all out.

Vidar was behind me a second later. "Victoria? You're unwell?"

"I'll be all right," I said, waving him away. "I've got a weak stomach."

"A weak… ?"

"I get sick easily. I'll be all right. I just need to eat something, probably. Please, let me upchuck in peace. It's not how I want you to remember me."

He quietly took himself back to the campsite and I threw up a few more times, nothing but bile, and felt a little better and joined him. He offered me some water, which I gulped down, and a piece of hard dark bread. I chewed on it dutifully, but was longing for a hot cup of tea and some toast with marmalade. I lay down and groaned, my hands over my aching stomach.

"I don't understand, Victoria. Hunger makes you ill?"

"It's probably a combination of things," I said. "I'm tired and maybe a bit shaken up still. Shock can do strange things to your body." I smiled. "Well, my body at least. I'm sure yours is built to withstand more than mine. Look what you did to me last night." I slid the blanket off my shoulder to reveal a purplish bruise.

"I did this to you?" he said, his eyes round with bewilderment.

"Don't feel bad," I said quickly. "If I'd wanted you to stop, I would have said." He frowned. "I forget how mortal you are," he said. "Your spirit is so strong, but your body…"

"I'm all right, really," I said, patting his hand. "Thanks for being concerned." I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again a few minutes later he was still looking at me, worried.

"Vidar?" I said, sitting up.

"You're so vulnerable," he whispered. "I should never have come near you. I should have let you live your life in peace."

"I would have lived my life in sadness had you not come," I said, putting my arms around him. "Peace is well and good, but I'd give it away to be with you." I sat back. "Now, we have to make plans. I'm expected at work today, but I won't go. I'll say I'm sick. You can come back to my cabin. I'll get us some food and see if I can steal some of Gunnar's clothes from the laundry."

"You are still a sensible girl, I see," he said. "Making plans."

"I just want to be with you," I said, my lips finding the tender skin at his earlobes. "If fate has decided that we only have until Wednesday, that means we have to fit two lifetimes of love in."

"That's a lot to ask."

"It's all I'll ever ask for." I paused, an idea glimmering in a far corner of my brain. "Vidar, is it possible for you to change your fate? Then your father would have nothing to hold you by." Vidar looked perplexed. "One can bargain with the Norns," he said, "but I don't know where they live." He paused and I opened my mouth to say something, when he continued: "At present," he said. "I don't know at present where they live."

"But you could find them? Hypothetically speaking?"

"Many men have wandered for years and grown old in the roots of the World Tree, looking for the spinners of destiny," he said. "I fear we don't have that much time on our side." I stood gingerly and stretched my legs. My stomach was
M
beginning to settle again, but I wanted to be inside. The forest had its charm; the cabin had central heating and a shower.

"Come with me," I said. "Be careful. Don't speak and if you hear somebody approaching, you have to be really quiet."

"Wasn't it me who taught you to be quiet?" he said, laughing. "Let's see who makes the least noise on our way."

"It's a bet."

He won, of course, because I broke a twig within forty seconds of leaving the campsite behind. As we walked beside each other in the forest, with the warm sunbeams bouncing between the new leaves and my hand enclosed in his, I felt a shudder of such exquisite happiness that I wanted to sob. At last, life made sense. At last, there was a meaning, a shape to my existence. Although I accepted that I might lose him, that I could die if I wasn't prepared to let him go, the fear seemed distant in the morning sunshine, a cold thing to be considered only at night.

I could almost feel the cogs and gears of my brain whirling over, processing the problem. There must be a way around it, there must be a way we could be together. Vidar was a supernatural being, there must be supernatural logic somewhere in there, and why couldn't it work in our favor instead of just against it?

We drew near the hem of the forest and, remembering Magnus spying me there, I slowed.

"We have to be careful now," I said.

"I'll follow you."

I took his hand and we crept to the edge of the slab. I peered left and right. Nobody in sight. Squeezing his hand, I led him quickly to the back door of my cabin, rumbled the key, pushed the door open, then slammed out the outside world.

"Home safe," I said.

He hesitated in the hallway. "Make yourself comfortable," I said. "I'm going to sort out a few things."

"Don't be long," he said, reluctantly letting my fingers go. "Every moment is precious." I hurried over to the admin building, first stop the laundry. Gunnar always left his clothes in the dryer for days after he'd washed them. I found a shirt and a pair of checked pajama pants which I thought might fit Vidar, and stuffed them into a laundry bag. With that under my arm, I went to the galley. Empty, but not for long. I could hear Frida and Carsten talking in the rec hall. I threw open the doors to the pantry and grabbed four cans of soup and a leftover half loaf of bread, a bag of chocolate cookies and a packet of Weetabix. I was in the cold room stashing a carton of milk in the laundry bag when I heard someone in the kitchen.

"Hi," I said, peeking out. It was Gordon.

"Morning, Vicky," he said cheerfully. "How are you?"

I closed the cold room door behind me. "Terrible. Really, really sick. That bug that you had—"

"You must have caught it. So sorry. Vomiting?"

I nodded, trying to look pale and trembly.

"Diarrhea?"

I nodded again, hoping he wouldn't probe much further. I didn't want to talk bodily functions with Gordon.

"You'll be better in a day or two. I feel fine now."

"Thanks. I came over to get some breakfast but I'm not feeling up to work. Could you let Magnus know?"

"That you're sick? Of course." He gave me a theatrical wink. "Let's hope we spread it around. No point in keeping it to yourself, eh?"

"That's right," I said, not a hundred percent sure what he meant because half my mind and all of my heart was back at the cabin. "I might go back to bed." With that, I was out the door, my booty under my arm and my heart thudding with excitement.

I found Vidar in the kitchen, freshly showered with a towel around his waist and his hair trailing damp on his warm shoulders.

I caught my breath. He turned around.

"I got milk," I said, offering the carton as proof.

He took my wrist, cast the carton of milk aside and dragged me to the sofa. I was utterly helpless in his hands, partly owing to his irresistible, hot skin, and partly the unyielding power of his body. Only his fingertips knew how to be gentle and my flesh responded to the combination of relentless and tender with greedy longing.

Then, dressed in Gunnar's long-sleeved T-shirt and the checked pajamas, Vidar was treated to his first-ever breakfast of Weetabix, which he liked well enough. I showered, we tumbled into my bed and idled the hours away in conversation, kisses and long dozes.

I woke in the late afternoon. The last beam of sunlight diffused through the curtain. Vidar was still asleep. I had dreamed of my old life, the one where nothing supernatural had ever been admitted. It had been a simple dream, not a sad one. As I watched Vidar's face, made soft and boyish by slumber, desire glowed in my heart, but the first thought to chase it was fear. Oh, I had got myself into a big,
big
mess. We had spent enough time in the lull of each other's company. I had to start working on a solution. A knock at the cabin door broke into my thoughts. Vidar's eyes flew open. I was out of the bed and pulling on my dressing gown. I held my finger to my lips for him, then rushed to the door.

"Gunnar, hi," I said, blocking the doorway with my body.

"Hi, Vicky. I brought you some dinner." He held out a plate with aluminum foil over the top.

"You didn't have to," I said, taking the plate.

"Can I come in?"

"You'd better not. Wouldn't want you to catch this bug."

"You look fine. It's probably not contagious."

I held up my hand to stop him advancing. "Really, Gunnar. I'd rather be alone in my misery."

"Sorry," he said.

I felt a pang of guilt. "We'll catch up in a couple of days," I said, "when I'm feeling better."

"Okay." He raised his hand once, then dropped it, backing away. "Sleep well." I closed the door and returned to the bedroom. Vidar waited, an expression of curiosity on his face.

"Who was it?"

"Gunnar. My friend." I laid the plate on the bedspread. "He'd like to be more than my friend." Vidar's eyebrows drew down. "What would he like?"

I whipped the aluminum foil off: fish and chips, with Maryanne's special seafood sauce. "He's a nice guy, don't worry," I said. "You're wearing his clothes."

He reached for a chip and tried it. "I like Midgard cooking," he said.

"This is Maryanne's cooking. I promise you mine isn't as good." I sat cross-legged on the bed while we shared the meal. "Now, we need to work out what we're going to do." He shook his head sadly. "It's too late. I have marked you, now he can find you."

"You need to lay it all out for me, Vidar. The logic of it. You waited for me for a thousand years. What did you think would happen? Didn't you have a grand solution?"

"I had a simple solution. I thought that I would find you, keep you secret from my father, be with you."

"That's it? Just keep me secret?"

Vidar averted his eyes and his voice became soft. "It isn't the kind of secret I could keep for eternity, but we don't have eternity."

It took a moment for this to sink in. Of course. He would live long after I had grown old and died. "You mean—?"

"Only the length of a single human life span. Last time, it all went wrong when I told Vali. This time, I intended to tell no one. The years would pass unnoticed by my family. But I said a rash thing last time; that I would run away to Midgard forever. That is what my father fears so much…" I paused for a few seconds, the knowledge of my inevitable death blistering hot in my brain. A rough wind shook the windowpane, a flurry of raindrops. It seemed I had little time left. Fifty or sixty years perhaps? Half of that as an old lady, full of aches and pains, wrinkled and saggy. Measured against his life span, it was infinitesimal.

"Vidar, you waited a thousand years to be with me for just a handful?"

"Love is eternal," he said, and his words hung in the air for long moments afterward. Gradually I became aware that I had not finished asking him all the questions I had thought of.

"Did you think we'd be together here or in Asgard?" I continued.

"Here. My father would find you in Asgard. He rarely turns his attention here anymore."

"Then what's your specific concern?"

"I've been with you. We've created a spark that he may sense. If he suspects, he'll go to the seeing-water and know everything."

"You didn't think of the spark before?" I said gently.

"I didn't know it. The first time I came, I remembered how vulnerable you were and became frightened. I went to my mother for advice and she told me to beware."

I processed all this as I wiped my greasy fingers on a napkin. "So, how did you know I was here on Othinsey?"

"I sensed you. One morning."

"You
sensed
me. What does that mean? Specifically."

"It's like a prickle of awareness. As though someone is in the room with you that you can't see."

"And you're afraid that Odin will feel this prickle?"

"Yes."

"How long had you known I was back here on Midgard?"

"Since that morning."

"When was it?"

"A few weeks before I came for you."

A light glimmered on in my mind. "Not before?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

He looked puzzled. "No."

I nodded slowly. "So tell me about this seeing-water. Odin can use it to see what's happening here on Midgard?"