Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4) (28 page)

“Do not open it here,” Nidhogg said to me with a wink. “We will adjourn to the library directly, so we can talk.”

I rose, kissed the old woman on the cheek, which seemed to surprise her, and went back to stand with Qindra, looking over the amazing scene before us.

Several of the girls were trading ribbons, this color for that, while the rest were having a great parade with the wooden animals. It was wonderful and innocent.

“Too bad they go back to being slaves tomorrow,” I whispered to Qindra, who frowned at me and shook her head.

“Do not spoil this,” she said, patting me on the arm. “Times are changing.”

Before the food was served, the other servants dragged the cooks out of the kitchen and set them at the great table. Everyone pitched in, carrying platters and dishes, glasses and great bottles of juices and water.

It reminded me of a Christmas feast, but it was June. Solstice, perhaps?

Once the meal was well underway, Nidhogg excused herself, taking Qindra and myself with her, out of the great hall and into the library. Several of the servants tried to follow her, to bring her things, but she shooed them away, directing Qindra and me to bring wine, glasses, and a tray of pastries that had avoided the grasping hands of young children.

Once we were ensconced within the great library and the doors were shut against the sound of revelry, the three of us settled down before a burning fireplace, taking up three glasses of wine and toasting the good health of everyone present. Nidhogg drained her wine and set the empty glass on the table between us, waving away Qindra’s offer to refill it.

“The world is falling into chaos,” Nidhogg said, her voice firm and confident. “It is beyond time to set things aright.”

I looked at Qindra, who looked as confused as I did.

“But mother,” Qindra began, but Nidhogg waved her down.

“I have chosen this wild woman as my Fist,” she said, gesturing toward me. “And I do not regret that decision. She is brash and unafraid.”

She leaned forward, poured herself another half glass of wine, and sat back, stamping her cane on the floor between her knees.

“I have come to a decision,” she said, staring first at Qindra then at me.

“There are those in the council who will be outraged if they learn of our conspiracy,” she said, her voice sure and her eyes as clear as I’ve ever seen them.

“What conspiracy?” Qindra asked.

“This one,” she pointed her cane at me, a feral grin on her face. “I blame her for breaking me out of my torpor, forcing me to face the world again, and showing me the enormity of my sins.”

My mouth fell open as the old dragon looked at me with fire in her eyes. There was a depth of history there, a power beyond anything I’d ever seen. Jean-Paul in all his black and silver glory; mighty wingspan and fiery breath was nothing compared to the fire in this woman’s eyes.

“Oh, shit,” I breathed. We were screwed.

“But, mother,” Qindra began, moving to the edge of her seat, reaching one hand toward Nidhogg. “I don’t understand.”

“The wheel, child,” she said, giving Qindra a patronizing smile. “Have you not understood the portents and the signs? The wheel has been broken for time out of mind. But it grinds along its broken toothed gear, struggling to move once more, small jerks and starts that rock this world and remind us that our doom is inevitable.”

I watched her, shuddered, and saw the great wheel in my mind. The same wheel that Odin spoke of, the great cycle of life, the beginning and the end of things. The wheel that Nidhogg shattered when she slew the gods, preventing Ragnarök and the end of the world.

“How?” I began, setting my wine on the table and sliding to the floor at her feet. “The gods are dead. The end cannot come.”

“They are being reborn,” she said, her voice sly and her face alight. “And we shall find them. Only this time we will provide them a place of safety. We will nurture them, here in my kingdom.”

Qindra fell back, her hands to her face. “Truly?” she asked, her voice tremulous.

“I will right the long wrong I have wrought,” Nidhogg said, a look of pure joy on her face. “That is the only way to counter the chaos.” She suddenly grew stoic once again. “If we do not act, the Reavers will shatter us and bring us to doom. We must find a way to repair the wheel. You,” she pointed at me, her finger crooked. “Stand child. You are a maker, a warrior, and my Fist. You have shown me the way of it. You who stood against the necromancer and protected Frederick Sawyer, who put the love of Jai Li and many others above your own safety.

You who slew the child of my womb in order to preserve love and righteousness. You have given me hope in a life that has been bereft of it for far too long.”

She turned to face Qindra. “And you, daughter. My heart. You who have guarded me and guided me beyond all reason. Even when I slew your mother, and so many others in my blinding rages, you loved me beyond reckoning. I release you from your obligation. You are free to choose your path, your life.”

Qindra gasped. “No, mother. Do not send me away.”

Nidhogg chuckled. “Nay, child. I do not banish you. I just give you your freedom. You may stay here if you choose, but it becomes your choice, no longer an obligation.”

We fell silent. I sat on my knees at Nidhogg’s feet, shocked and confused. What the hell had just happened?

I got up, slipped back into my chair, and drank my wine, watching Qindra’s face as she processed everything that had happened. Nidhogg sipped her own wine, waiting for us to decide.

“I’ll help,” I said. “But I want Black Briar brought into the fold. I want them to be the ones to harbor anyone we find.”

Nidhogg nodded. “As you see fit.”

“What of the servants?” Qindra asked, her voice quiet. “Will they be given their freedom?”

Nidhogg smiled. “Yes, daughter. Each shall be given their freedom. But we will not abandon anyone in this harsh world. Those who are too young will be educated and when they are of age, may choose to leave us as they will. But they may never speak of this household. You must see to this precaution. If they leave us, they may never return, and they will be given a new identity.”

“Holy shit,” I said, my mind reeling.

“Indeed,” Nidhogg said, breaking into a broad grin once again. “I do so love shaking things up. It makes me feel alive after a very long time of darkness and fear.”

“How will this work?” Qindra asked. She was struggling to keep up.

“Conspiracy and revolution,” Nidhogg said. “This cannot be my way. This must be something you sow beyond my household. No one can think I know anything of this. You must play your parts well. Operate without my knowledge, never bring another word of this to me. This is my one and only time to openly discuss this.”

“Why?” Qindra asked.

Nidhogg pointed at me. “This one,” she said, chuckling. “She has shown me my path forward, and I go forward unto glory, toward my very death, but with a glad heart.”

Did she mean I was going to kill her? This was crazy.

“But,” I began, standing. “Your death?”

“No more,” Nidhogg said, struggling to her own feet, leaning on the cane. “Take Jai Li home, berserker. Give her a place built on love and joy.”

“I’ll try,” I said, my world spinning, nearly out of control.

“And bring your young Katie home,” she said. “You disturb my dreams with all your wanderings and thrashing about.” She reached out and took Qindra’s arm, the two of them ambling out toward the front of the library.

“Like a herd of elephants, you are, tromping around in the land of dreams. She is not where you seek. Didn’t that silly elf boy tell you as much?”

At the doorway, they paused, and Nidhogg turned back once more. “Look to your heart, warrior. You have the answer within you.”

I sat back down, trying to catch my breath as they left the library.

Look to my heart? What the fuck did that mean? And how come everyone but me knew Katie was not in the Sideways or the dream lands? Where the hell was she?

As to this revolution—secretly sanctioned by the overlord—how the hell did that work, exactly?

I drank my wine and stood up. I’d wander back to the party and grab Jai Li, get her home. But maybe I’d let her play with her friends a little longer. Life was too short.

Forty-three

I thought about Nidhogg’s words all that week while I worked the farms with Julie like old times. As much as I’d loved that first time I was the lead, took the checks, planned the work, there was something immensely satisfying in playing second fiddle to Julie. She was a damn fine teacher, and I still had things to learn. Patience being among the top items. But more than that, it was glorious to see her rebuilding her life one day and one person at a time.

The dreams I had at that time were mundane things, peaceful or anxiety riddled, they didn’t involve eaters or murderous spirits in bowler hats. What I did dream of was Katie. Every single night I dreamed that she was calling me, that she was someplace I knew, and that I was just looking in the wrong places. It wasn’t like I was walking the dreamscape, or anything. I had that connection down cold. This was just my brain working through Nidhogg’s words. What was I missing?

I started keeping a dream journal. Each morning, before I got out of bed, I wrote down what I could remember. Then I set it aside and went about my day.

Days turned into a week, then two. I was gathering my strength, connecting with my daughter (man, that sounded so strange) and fortifying myself for the next big push. I had to go out again, but this time I was doing some significant scouting and research. I wanted to talk to Unun, Skella’s and Gletts’s grandmother. She knew about going walkabout. She understood the rules of the road.

One thing, though, that came up in every single dream journal entry was the apartment. That was the key to things, I was convinced. I hadn’t been back to the apartment since Julie had helped rescue me. But I was going back. I needed to get the mail and pay the bills. I needed to walk around the place and differentiate what it was and what it wasn’t. This was the real world, not the dream world. There the madness and chaos ruled.

Knowing what happened the last time, I took Gram with me, of course, but the book and the shield were stored in the closet in the bedroom of the old apartment. I didn’t want either of them around Jai Li, and I sure didn’t need them in my smithing work. I’d just do a quick rundown to Kent, grab the mail, and be home before dinner. I made sure Julie and Mary knew I was going down, so if I didn’t return, they knew where to come beat my ass.

The mailbox was over stuffed with a note that the mailman wouldn’t deliver any new mail until we came down to the post office and cleared things up. Seemed reasonable, seeing as we’d really abandoned the apartment. Maybe I’d get a P.O. box in Bellevue or Redmond. I didn’t want to have the mail forwarded. Felt too much like giving up.

After a quick discussion with the postal czar, I loaded up the saddlebags with weeks’ worth of mail and headed back to the apartment to sort it all. But mainly I wanted to go back to the scene of the crime—put some things in order, hide the book again, get it wrapped up. Julie had just left it and the shield where they lay when she and Mary pulled me out of the apartment.

When I opened the door to the apartment, I was shocked to see the oddly symmetrical chaos my time in the Sideways had caused. It was the book, of course, I noted it laying open near the bar, page down, like someone had been reading it and couldn’t find a book mark.

“You suck,” I said, grabbing a pair of tongs off the living room floor. I tried not to think about the way all of our possessions had been in a three dimensional orbit, flowing in toward the book. Julie said a card burst into flames when it touched the book. What would have happened when one of the bar stools had connected? I shuddered to think about it. Of course, nothing was happening now with it laying open, face down on the floor, but I guess without me or another person touching it, the book wasn’t exactly triggered.

I’d have to check downstairs with Elmer to see if his guns had been moving on their own, just in case.

I got the book wrapped in tinfoil again, wrapped it in Katie’s scarf, and shoved it into a large freezer bag along with a handful of sage and lavender. Then I took it and the shield, stashing them both into the closet in the bedroom. The place felt even colder, more dead space than ever before. I touched the mirror on the way out and pulled the door closed. My stomach was beginning to hurt, so I stepped into the main room and sat on the floor, doing some good cleansing breathing like Sa Bum Dim Choi had taught me back in Tae Kwon Do. Release the tension, release the fear. Bring in cool, cleansing breath, bring in strength and calm.

After a couple of minutes, I opened my eyes and rolled my shoulders. I felt a lot better. Then I realized I was in the same position I had been in when I tapped the book, and got up hastily, brushing loose bits of paper from the back of my jeans. Really needed to sort out the place again. Maybe I’d just get a shovel and put it all into the Dumpster out back.

I clapped my hands and picked up the saddlebags. “First things first.”

I went to the kitchen, pushed the table away from the cabinet where it had been stuck as it tried to go into its orbit. I righted the chairs and grabbed a glass off the cabinet. Several of the glass ones had broken when Julie sprung me. Would need to be extra careful where I walked. Grabbing a plastic cup, I got a glass of water and sat at the table, separating the mountain of mail into three stacks—one for recycling, one with bills and finally one for personal items. The personal things were all for Katie. The first two stacks were fairly even by the time I had dug through the majority of the mail. Apparently there were a lot of grocery store sales in our area.

In the end I had to run to the recycling Dumpster in the back alley of the apartment. Seeing the jumble of garbage and the huge containers, I thought of the homeless guy, Joe, and his ongoing flirtation with actually being Odin. If I could see him right now, I’d even ask him about Katie, even though I knew his answers would be in riddles, or just gibberish.