Honeyed Words (9 page)

“Come back anytime,” she said sweetly. “It has been our honor having you in our home.”

Gletts grunted, whether in agreement or not, I couldn’t tell. “Have your people always lived here?” I asked.

“As far back as we remember,” Skella offered.

“Not Gran,” Gletts said, pushing himself off the statue. “She remembers Alfheim, our true home.”

Skella looked a little sad at that and shrugged. “True enough, but what can you do?”

“Why can’t you go back to Alfheim?” Katie asked.

Gletts laughed. “Because we’re idiots,” he barked. “We can’t find the way.”

“We once traveled through Asgard,” Skella said. “But when the wyrms destroyed the Vanir back in the beginning of time, they broke the rainbow bridge, and that way has been closed to us ever since.”

Katie’s eyes were as huge as headlights. “Broke the bridge?” she whispered.

“Boo hoo,” Gletts said. “They were fools—”

Skella shot him a withering look, which caused him to blanch.

“—leastwise, that’s what Gran always says.” He shrugged and went back to leaning on the statue.

Not a new argument, I supposed. But one where the sides had long been established.

“They were arrogant, yes. Allowed themselves to be duped. Loki played no small part in their undoing, and his reward was a slow death.”

“Loki was killed?” Katie asked.

“Where have you been?” Gletts asked, obviously disgusted. “If they were around, do you think they’d let the dragons run the show?”

Suddenly I remembered a dream—Odin crucified to a tree, imploring me to find the others, his children and his people.

“The dragons killed all the gods?” I asked, fearing what the answer was.

“Yes, obviously,” Gletts said.

“Maybe not so obviously,” Skella said, patting me on the arm. “You must be new at this.”

This caused Katie to laugh. “Gods, dragons, giants, elves—”

Gletts bowed at that last.

“—yeah, I’d say we are new to most of this.”

“I think they are not all dead,” I said quietly, hoping not to unbalance the world. “I believe one of them lives.”

“Not possible,” Gletts said. “The wyrms kill any that are reborn. They’ve killed whole villages, burned whole towns, on the rumor that one of the elder gods has been reborn.”

Interesting
, I thought. Were the dragons slipping? Arrogance brought down the elder gods. Could history be repeating itself with the dragons?

“And if I told you I met one of them?”

Skella reached forward and grabbed my arm. “You speak true?”

“He vanished,” Katie said, watching me.

I nodded. Woden, the one-eyed god, had ridden in the back of my poor dead hatchback at one time. I’d saved him from attack by two brutish giants, and he had blessed or cursed me, depending on your outlook.

I lifted the hair off my face and leaned forward so Skella could see the runes buried in my hairline. “He touched me, brought fire to my mind.”

Gletts hovered over Skella’s shoulder as she peered at my forehead. “Blessed mother,” she whispered. “We are doomed.”

Before we knew what had happened, they both turned and ran across the concrete. The moment their feet were on grass once again, they faded, disappeared.

“What the hell?” Katie blurted out, running to the lawn. “They just vanished.”

“Aye,” I said, not bothering to move. “This may have been a huge mistake.”

She walked back toward me, puzzlement written on her face. “What happened?”

“Not sure whose side they are on, after all,” I said, picking up my pack.

“But they seemed to really hate the dragons.”

I shrugged. “That was pretty abrupt.”

She watched the tree line, thinking. “Maybe we should head back to the hotel. They mentioned Ari was snatched by dwarves, but they never really said how they knew.”

“True,” I said, slipping my arm around her waist and steering us toward a taxi stand just outside the park. “If they are in cahoots with the dwarves, and they think we are trucking with elder gods, maybe we are working to cross-purposes.”

“None of that makes any sense.”

I looked at her. “We just spent the better part of a day with two elf kids dolled up in goth clothing. We discussed dragons, shape-shifting elder gods, and dwarves. Why would the possibility of them knowing about the dwarves because they were helping them be that far a stretch?”

“Elves hate dwarves … all the literature says so.”

I looked at her. “By all the literature, you don’t mean
The Lord of the Rings
and
Dungeons and Dragons,
do you?”

She smacked me on the shoulder, which I deserved. “Elves are children of the light. Dwarves, children of the night.”

Which brought my mind back to that poor dwarf kid, murdered for trucking with dragons.

The cab ride was mercifully mundane. Katie lay her head against my shoulder and closed her eyes. She’d been up earlier than me, and we’d had a pretty long day of hiking around. It had been a decent enough day, but I wanted to get back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. We were going for Indian food. Katie wanted something spicy; I was sure I could find something to like. They’d have chicken, right? and bread?

Back in the room, Katie flopped down on the bed, mumbling something about a nap. I thought maybe she’d want to snuggle, but she crashed hard. I turned on the television with the volume low and plugged in my cell phone. The battery was good and dead. After I was sure Katie was not going to wake up, I stripped out of my clothes and padded into the shower.

By the time I was finished, Katie was snoring. Not like her, but it was a strange bed and she didn’t look like she was completely comfortable. It was still fairly early, so I wrapped my nakedness in a fluffy hotel robe, turned off the television, and checked on the phone. One bar of battery, good enough. I powered it up, and it immediately began buzzing with messages and missed calls.

Two of them, to be precise. I put on my headset and checked the messages—one from Julie and one from Rolph.

Julie’s message was to wish Katie a happy birthday, and to remind me to be home in time to work on Monday. “Yes Mom,” I muttered as I deleted the message. I had to be in Cle Elum bright and early to help Frank Rodriguez. Like I’d shirk work.

The second message was short. “Smith, this is Rolph. I need to discuss events of late. Please return my call.”

He was chatty.

I brought up his number on the speed dial, picked up my pack, and went back into the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and propped one foot up on the side of the tub, then shook the bottle of nail polish I’d picked up for this trip—a deep red called Bimbo Limbo. I was going to paint my toenails. I hadn’t done that since college. No one who knew me would ever know, besides Katie; she was in for a serious surprise.

By the time I had the bottle shaken and opened, Rolph answered.

“Hey, Rolph, it’s me, Sarah.” I leaned over and dabbed a wide red swath over the nail on the big toe on my left foot. Very bright.

“Ah, smith,” he said, sounding relieved. “I’m afraid we are once again faced with hard tasks ahead.”

I dipped the brush back into the tiny glass jar, taking care not to knock it from the edge of the sink. Great. Now what?

“I know you already have word of the skald’s kidnapping.”

“Yeah,” I said, dragging the brush carefully over the nail again. “Katie and I were there. I fought with the bunch of them—bastards.”

“Impressive,” he said. “I know of the scoundrels. I am surprised they let you live.”

“I can hold my own in a fight,” I said, piqued. “I give as good as I get.”

He chuckled. “I meant no disrespect. You are as fiery as ever.”

More psychoanalysis. From a dwarf, no less. “What’s on your mind, Rolph? What do you know about the guys who snatched Ari?”

“One moment,” he said. He covered the phone, speaking to his girlfriend, Juanita. She’d rescued him after the dragon battle, got him to shelter before the rising sun. They’d met on the
Elvis Versus the Goblins
movie shoot. We were surprised she threw JJ over for Rolph, but love works in mysterious ways.

The next two nails were easier, smaller. In fact, they were so small the polish smeared a teensy bit onto the skin around the third toe. I wiped it off with a thumbnail, getting most of it.

Catching a low mumble from behind me, I turned in time to see movement in the mirror. I put the brush back in the bottle and stood up, glancing out into the room, stepping lightly so I didn’t smear the polish on the three painted toes. Katie was still sleeping. I’d have to wake her soon or she’d sleep through the night. The mirror was still pretty steamed up, so maybe I’d only caught a glimpse of myself moving around.

I heard a faint voice ask, “Is she naked?”

“Who’s there with you?” I asked Rolph. The sound was distorted for a moment before he came back to the phone. “Only Juanita and I, why?”

“Which one of you asked if I was naked?”

He laughed. “Neither of us.”

“I heard someone ask ‘Is she naked?’”

I looked around. As I turned my head, I again thought I saw something in the mirror. Holy shit. I leaned forward and wiped the mirror with the back of my hand. I bet they have a peephole in here. The mirror was on the sidewall, however. The one that backed to the rest of the room.

“I’m afraid you have lost me, smith.”

“Can we meet in person?” I asked him, feeling strange.

“Perhaps that would be best,” he said. “Juanita suggests we meet for dinner on your way back home.”

“Excellent.”

I walked back out into the room and wrote the name and address of the restaurant on a hotel notepad.

I plugged the cell phone back into the charger and looked over at Katie. Maybe we should bag dinner. She looked like she was good to sleep through the night.

Katie’s suitcase sat open on the chair by the window. On top she’d laid out her frilly underthings. I traced my hands down the white silk camisole. She was such a girl. Her blouse and skirt were hanging in the closet; the top was a short black number with very thin straps. Nice. I’d never seen this outfit. It could be new for the weekend. I never even thought of doing that, buying something new, pretty …

I glanced over at my own suitcase. Things were jammed in there with no thought to keeping pleats straight or preventing unnecessary wrinkles—just not on my radar. I dropped the robe, grabbed her things still on their hangers, and walked to the mirror over the dresser.

I held the clothes up, checking how I’d look in them. It was startling. Totally not something I’d ever wear, dear god. And these would never fit me, much too small. And I couldn’t pull off a skirt—all that shaving, and waxing, primping … the underwear alone would kill me.

But I had to admit it wasn’t that bad. Wouldn’t the world be stunned to see me all shorn and spiffy. I glanced over at Katie, sleeping curled up in her sweats. Would she like it if I femmed up? I didn’t want her to change, and I couldn’t imagine she’d want me to, either. But what if?

It was complicated. I didn’t want to fall into stereotype here. If I decided to shave my legs and put on a skirt one day, I’d like it to be on my terms and not cause the world to shift on its axis.

As I turned, the tattoos on my calf came into view. Who was I kidding, the world had already tilted damn near off its axis. I had tattoos erupt through the skin on my calf just from reforging and handling a magic sword. I’d killed a dragon and rescued an elder god. Hell, I’d even been kissed by a Valkyrie.

That was a moment that takes your breath away.

Guiltily, I returned her outfit to the closet, turned off the lights, and slipped into bed with her. Maybe we just needed the night to recover. It had been a rough couple of days.

Besides, my head swam with the whirl of roles and expectations. I just wanted to be me.

Eleven

I woke early—like 4
A.M.
—and got dressed in the dark. Katie’s soft breathing told me she still slept. She was going to be pissed she slept through her birthday dinner, but I didn’t have the heart to wake her. Or maybe I was just being selfish and scared.

Once I had my sweats and sneakers on, I grabbed my running pack and wrote out a quick note. A run would do me good. I felt tight, wound up. Kicking out a few miles would change that.

Ninety minutes later, my muscles were humming, and the endorphins were kicking in. I love the way I feel after a run. Wish I could remember to do it more often.

Katie was still asleep when I got back to the room. I’d shower first, and then wake her.

I stripped down and saw the open bottle of nail polish on the vanity. Of course … I glanced down. Three toes on one foot painted, the rest naked. Figured I couldn’t concentrate long enough to finish one foot.

Waste of eight bucks. The bottle made a forlorn thud as I dropped it into the trashcan. That’s what I got for trying to be someone I’m not.