The Winter King (6 page)

There was a silence now as everything Ronald
had said sank in. There was so much there.

Several moons’ time meant that he planned to
sail far. Wealthy beyond measure meant he didn’t intend to trade.
He intended to sack something and take what he wanted. And of
course, he didn’t think anyone would be around to stop him from
claiming Ylva as his wife because everyone who could have done so
would be dead. Poisoned months earlier.

“
Son of a bitch,” Erikk
hissed. His anger was fueling him, overriding his discomfort and
pain.

“
Erikk!”

Erikk turned slightly to watch Jorunn
running toward him. The wiccan had a body strong as iron for her
age. Her hair was the color of dirty snow, but her teeth were white
and she was never ill. She was called wise woman for a reason.
“You’ve been poisoned, Erikk,” she said when she reached him. “You
need this!”

He watched in numb fascination as she took a
pouch she’d already had open in her hand, and poured some of its
powdered contents into a goblet Ylva held out for her. Jorunn’s
wide leather belt bore many flasks and bottles attached to it. She
pulled a flask from it and added its liquid contents to the
goblet.

Ylva hastily swirled her finger in it a bit
to mix it, then held it out to her older brother. “Drink, Erikk!
Mother and father have already had theirs!”

They’d been awake to swallow? Was there hope
they would survive?

Erikk didn’t question Jorunn’s concoction or
his need of it. He simply grabbed the goblet none-too-gently, and
downed its entire contents in three swallows. It tasted like bitter
berries and dirt.

“
Good!” said Jorunn,
nodding emphatically as Erikk lowered the empty goblet. “Good,” she
repeated, more softly this time. “At least you were able to finish
it. We could only get so much down your parents’
throats.”

Erikk turned to her. “You mean they are
still –”

She nodded before he could finish, her
expression withered. “I’m sorry. We tried to wake them. They are
not as strong as you.”

Everyone kept telling him that. He squared
the old woman with a hard look. “Is the potion you just gave me
going to work?”

“
On you, there is no doubt.
On them… we can only hope.”

Erikk felt something horrid rise in his
chest, not physically, but emotionally. He tamped it down with a
fury that was building just as quickly and spun away from Jorunn to
face Ronald. “Come with me.”

Ronald only nodded as Erikk stormed through
the camp and everyone came out of their tents or gathered in the
street to watch him. He dared not look into their faces; he knew
what they were thinking. His family had been attacked. There were
traitors amongst their own brethren. Some of them had sons who were
involved, who had accompanied Bjarke to the sea as part of his
crew. The silence in the air spoke volumes.

By the time Erikk reached the seaside to
find the two largest and strongest longboats taken, the sky was
turning dark, and the air was filling with the heaviness of
impending storm. “Help me,” he commanded Ronald.

Ronald assisted him in untying the smaller
boat, one meant for no more than four passengers. But as he did, he
looked up at his friend. “What can you hope to do, Erikk? He has a
long head start and the weather is changing.” He shook his
head.

“
I know not, but I can’t
stay here. Bjarke plans to take the men down the coast. No doubt,
he’s been planning this for some time. There’s been talking of
taking Lindisfarne.”

“
The monastery?”

Erikk nodded, wrapping ropes and throwing
them into the boat. “All his talk of riches? He’ll meet up with
others in other families who feel the same way about the
Christians, and the lot of them will attack the church. It’s been
brewing.”

“
By Odin. It’ll be messy,
no matter what happens.”

Erikk nodded again. As soon as it was
completely free, he jumped into the vessel. But when Ronald made to
jump in after him, Erikk held out his hand. “No. I need you to stay
with Ylva. She needs you to protect her.”

“
I need no one to protect
me. I’m coming with you.”

Ronald and Erikk looked up along the shore,
where the cliffs abutted the sand. Ylva stood atop the nearest
rock, her stature proud, her hair blowing about her in a wind that
was just kicking up from the sea. Jorunn had accompanied her and
stood beside her.

“
Very well, then, you need
no protection.” Erikk said, knowing his sister was not only smart,
but strong. She was also young and stubborn. “However, I
need
you
to
protect the
people
, Ylva. You are the last of us. Should something happen to me
and – ”

“
And mother and father not
awaken?”

Erikk met her gaze. A silent understanding
passed between them. Slowly, and with resolution, Erikk finished,
“It will all be up to you, Ylva. You need to survive.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer, and could
no longer even bare to look upon her, so he turned then, ducked
into the boat to grab the oars, and looked at Ronald instead. They
nodded to one another in understanding. Ylva was but eleven years.
Ronald was being given a load of responsibility, and it was far
heavier than was being stated aloud.

“
Take this,” Ronald rushed
forward, shrugging off his furs to toss them into the bottom of the
boat. Jorunn pulled several things from her belt and threw them
into the boat as well. Then Ronald shoved the boat off the sand and
snow, and Erikk began rowing, trying not to notice the way Ylva’s
small white form stood motionless as ice as the moisture in the air
clung to his face and braids and the shore grew further and further
away.

Chapter Eight

Present day, Seattle Washington, United
States

Kristopher had just left the café and made
it to his bike when something in the nearby alley caught his eye.
Several homeless men were gathered around a burning trash can.
People thought that for the most part, things like this no longer
happened in the city limits, because police officers normally
caught the fires early and had them put out for public safety,
sending the homeless to a shelter if possible. But there were areas
where people still did this. They just happened a little further
in, a little deeper down, and a little more out of human sight. The
men gathered around this particular trash can were not mortal.

Kristopher looked at them and immediately
knew who and what they were. One was a vampire who’d wasted away to
nearly nothing for some strange reason. Vampires didn’t get
diseases; there was only one way for one of them to waste away. He
wasn’t feeding. It was something Kris could perhaps take up with
Roman D’Angelo during the next meeting.

Another was a goblin in human guise, one of
the larger kind who’d no doubt been missing from the Goblin Kingdom
since long before Diana Chroi had taken the throne as queen. Some
goblins just managed to get out and not get noticed by lying low
and not causing trouble. They simply preferred the mortal realm to
their own.

And the third was an incubus... who’d been
banished by their king. He wondered if the incubus knew that
Hesperos had been inducted to the Thirteen. Not that it mattered.
It was the incubus who set off Kristopher’s alarms the loudest,
though even that was a very distant, very faint noise. He wasn’t
worried, he was simply curious.

Kristopher watched the three of them a
moment or two more out of the corner of his eye, then mounted his
bike with smooth grace. It was his favorite motorcycle, and one he
only took out of the garage for special occasions. He hadn’t been
sure why he’d wanted to take it out tonight – until now. The 1927
Brough Superior SS100 wasn’t necessarily fast, though it certainly
had been in its day, but it was rare and it was beautiful. And like
so many things, when suped up with magic, it could become a bat out
of hell.

Rare, beautiful, and a
magical bat out of hell
. He smiled to
himself as he realized that Poppy Nix possessed the same qualities.
It looked like Kristopher preferred his women like he preferred his
bikes.

Something in the group of men to his left in
the alley caught his attention again. It was either a sound or a
movement, but either way, he hesitated in starting his engine and
returned his attention to them.

The fire in the trash can between them began
to flicker and sputter. Then it poofed upward, and a dancing flame
erupted at its center, bouncing energetically.

“
Oh! Pardon me! Have any of
you seen the Winter King around here anywhere?”

Kristopher’s eyes widened. Even from his
distance, he could hear the rather desperate screeching voice of
the young fire elemental.

The men around the trash can backed up. “A…
fire elemental?” one of them asked. It was the vampire. He shied
away even more, no doubt out of fear. Fire was one of the few
things that could kill a vampire out-right.

Kristopher dismounted his bike and strode
across the street toward the alley. As he neared, the fire
elemental continued to spin in place, looking everywhere and
speaking non-stop. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t mean to alarm anyone, but
I was told Lord Scaul was here somewhere, and I….” He seemed to
trail off as the incubus, who was handsome even in his “fallen”
state, gave him a dark, wary look. The incubus then raised his head
to the stranger that was nearing the end of the alley.

“
No worries, little spark,”
said the Nightmare in a deep, beautiful voice, which was typical
for his kind. “It looks like your call made it through.” He backed
up a few steps now too. Kristopher knew the man could sense his
power and that it was the waves of influence rolling off him that
had clued the incubus into who exactly he was.

The three men had cleared the way a good ten
feet in all directions by the time Kristopher reached the trash
can, and Pi spun to face him.

“
Your majesty!”

“
It’s… Pi, right?” Kris had
never dealt with the tiny fire elemental personally, but at this
point, his interactions with the kings had become almost legendary.
“Don’t you work for Chroi?”

“
Yes, your majesty, however
Miss Chantelle sent me to find you. She said you’d be here at this
time, which,” the elemental looked around a little and seemed to
shrug, “seems to be true. She wanted you to know that there’s been
an update on….” He trailed off a bit and gave the three men nearby
a distrustful glance.

Kristopher raised his chin. “I see.” He
pulled a lighter from his pocket. Some might have thought it
strange for the Winter King to carry a lighter, and perhaps that
was exactly why he did it. Because he could and because it was
unexpected. He flicked it on. “Hop on and we’ll talk in
private.”

The elemental nodded emphatically and
vanished from the center of the trash can. A moment later, the
flame at the tip of Kristopher’s lighter began bouncing languidly
up and down. Its eyes opened, and the flicker smiled.

Kristopher nodded both a farewell and silent
warning to the three non-humans gathered in the alley, then turned
and headed back toward his bike. He could feel their eyes on his
back as he left, and he kept his senses alert.

The snow was forming larger bonds in the
air, its flakes growing more substantial. It was beginning to pile
on the ground and fill the night with brightness. Kristopher held
the lighter close to protect the elemental from the wetness, and
when he reached his bike, he glanced once over his shoulder to make
certain they were alone.

The fire elemental waited, a questioning
look on his tiny, flickering face. Kris gave him the nod to
continue.

“
One of Lady Chantelle’s
seers had a vision of a crack in Yggdrasil.”

“
I’m aware of the
fracture,” Kris answered, but his forehead furrowed. The fact that
the news was spreading was alarming.

“
She’s concerned it might
be the Entity,” Pi told him seriously, “Perhaps he is going after
your foundations. The other vision the seer had was of a darkness
eating away at the base of a building.”

A darkness eating away at
the base of a building?
Going after our
foundations….
Kristopher said, “She thinks
he wants to destroy what we are from the beginning. From the
inside.”

“
Yes,” Pi nodded
emphatically. “We already know he wants to kill what makes
you
you
. That way
you’ll lose your powers and your crowns, and you won’t have time to
find your remaining queens.”

“
So he can find them
first.”

Pi nodded-bounced.

“
You can tell Lalura that
as far as my queen is concerned, he’s too late on that front. And
I’ll be tending to the Tree very soon.”

Pi bounced an affirmative again, and
disappeared from the lighter, killing the fire altogether as he
left. A small stream of smoke wafted up from the emptiness, and
Kristopher watched it for a half a second before flicking the
lighter closed once more and slipping it back into his pocket.

He mounted his bike, using his powers to
hone in on his runaway queen. She’d made it all the way back to her
apartment. He was impressed. She hadn’t even used magic to do it,
no doubt because she didn’t want to alarm any of the elders or,
worse, her best friend. She’d simply run. And in leather-soled
boots in the snow, no less.