Dead Embers(10)

Njall's door loomed a few steps ahead of me, top half open, the workshop emitting its usual skin-searing heat. I reveled in it, shoving the bottom half open and searching the semi-darkness for Njall's bulk. I didn't have to wait long.

"Ah, Brynhildr." He stomped forward and grabbed me in a breath-squashing bear hug. For the first time since my horrible fight with Joshua, my mood lightened. I grinned as he set me back on my feet. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Brynhildr?"

I opened my hand and revealed the leaf. It glistened in the ambient firelight, except for the veined grooves, which were filled with mud. Njall scowled, his great moustache wriggling with displeasure.

"What happened to it?" he growled.

I blinked, surprised. Why had his demeanor gone from cheerful to cheerless? Had I done something to make him angry?

"Was it my workmanship?" He bowed his head. "I do apologize, Brynhildr. I will understand if you are unhappy with my work."

Suddenly I understood. I touched his elbow to reassure him. "No, no, the string must have snapped in the middle of a sparring session. It was entirely my fault."

The lines on Njall's forehead smoothed, and I smiled at him. "I just need you to make it into a brooch or something. I'm not really sure what. Just so that it doesn’t fly off me again. I'd hate to lose it." Weeks ago Njall had been the one to drill a tiny hole into the leaf so I could wear it as a necklace.

Now he picked the fragile piece up in his huge, fat fingers. Truly amazing that he actually created such intricate metalwork with those sausage-like digits. I waited, my heart knocking against my chest, as he rubbed his thumb over the leaf and walked toward a wooden bucket. He rinsed and dried the leaf, then strode to the open fire, still too quiet for my comfort.

He picked up a long pincer-like tool and gripped the leaf with one pointy end. Then he thrust it to the fire.

I inhaled, shocked, terrified he'd melt the little leaf; my special gift would dribble all over the hot coals.

I opened my mouth, about to shout, "No!" but my lips had barely parted when he yanked the leaf away from the fire and laid it onto the end of a metal rod. Then he used a pair of metal pliers to bend the leaf around the rod. I didn't breathe.

Just watched.

At last he sighed, a sound plump with satisfaction. He twisted his generous bulk to face me, sweat gleaming on his ham-sized forearms, a proud cheery grin on his round, reddened face, and held the leaf out to me.

For one horrible instant, I knew I'd been right and he'd destroyed my precious leaf. Then I saw what he'd done.

Beautiful.

I picked the leaf off Njall's palm and rolled it onto the tip of my finger. The golden leaf was now a golden ring. I’d never once imagined the leaf in the form of a ring. A brooch or an earring, maybe. A ring—no.

And yet it worked. I slipped the ring onto my finger and found it slid on smoothly, a perfect fit, curling around the digit as if it belonged there.

***

My pleasure with my shiny new leaf-ring provided a little distraction from the debacle with Joshua. Until almost three hours later, when a Huldra brought me a note, summoning me to a council of Valkyries, Warriors and Ulfr.

We gathered in a small hall I hadn't been to before. The runes carved into the door declared that the room belonged to Fenrir, son of Loki. I entered in silence, finding a seat without drawing too much attention.

Joshua was there. We hadn't spoken yet, not since that horrible moment when I'd gone all multiple-personality on him and almost sliced him in half.

Laughter rang around me, but the sound barely penetrated the fog in my mind—the cold, bleak fog of fear and self-recrimination. My sword hand shivered, and I tucked it under the table, hoping no one had noticed. My eyes flitted over the scout team gathered to discuss whatever topics scout teams discussed: Fen and Sigrun, Aimee and Mika, and various Ulfr I knew only by sight.

And Joshua.

Looking up at him through my lashes, my heart drummed to the beat of guilt. He must have sensed me staring. He looked up and our eyes met across the table. My heart jumped again, but those deep black eyes no longer burned with anger, or accusation either—just concern, mirrored in the creased frown on his forehead. The slight curve of his lips formed a kind smile, more hurtful than the verbal lashing I deserved. I shivered and looked down. I wasn't sure I could trust myself to spar with a friend again.

When I glanced back up, Joshua was still watching me with a sad yet contemplative expression. He held my gaze, as if trying to comb through my mind for an explanation for the whole psycho-Bryn episode that morning. Never was I happier for an interruption than when Fen rose, took his place at the end of the long table and yelled for silence.

"Very well, team. We have gathered to get acquainted and to familiarize ourselves with the plan for our visit to Midgard." Fen launched into an in-depth explanation of our mission: something about North Africa and the drop in new Warrior recruits and how the scout teams were spread around the globe in small groups that struggled to find new einherjar. Eager to get going, I leaned forward to interrupt and ask Fen when we would be leaving, but he silenced me with a dark scowl. I still wasn't on proper speaking terms with him, so I clamped my mouth shut and waited.

"We have a team of nine. Each Warrior and Valkyrie has their respective Ulfr partners. I trust you will take every opportunity to get to know each other better. Above everything, we need to maintain the utmost trust in our partners. Our lives may depend on it."

After a few more minutes, Fen rounded up his presentation, and everyone rose to their feet; the room filled with the rustling of clothing, the clinking of swords and armor and the scraping of wood on wood as benches were moved aside. Around me, Warriors and Ulfr paired off with each other.

Everyone except for me.

I frowned. Why the hell was nobody bothering to tell me who my Ulfr was? The others, deep in conversation with their new partners, walked two-by-two down the hall to another great table, where a gaggle of Huldra served food and Mead, along with cheerful grins and smiling eyes. I followed alone. It reminded me I'd always been alone and should be used to it.

That was the simple truth of it. People left. There are always some, like my mother, who just up and leave because they want to. And then there are those who die on you. My fisted fingers trembled beneath the table, and I stretched and squeezed them, hoping to shake off the strange heat building beneath my flesh.

At least I still had Joshua. I hoped. Even though he'd also gone and died on me, thanks to the Fates' intervention he now sat across the table from me, chatting with his Ulfr partner and wolfing down roasted beef and fresh-baked bread, as if I'd only imagined the crunching of metal and the deadly accident.

Nearby, Sigrun grinned and talked to a large, muscle-bound Ulfr whose chiseled features could only be described as lupine.

A touch at my arm drew my attention to Mika, my Ulfr sparring partner from a while back. Her smooth, pale skin and almond eyes never failed to surprise me. She didn't look much like the other Ulfr. Mika seemed too beautiful for the whole snarling, toothy, hairy wolf thing.

"Hello, Bryn." She sat beside me, sliding a mug toward me. I wrinkled my nose, not keen on drinking more of the awful Asgard ale, and she laughed. "What? Don't you like it?"

"Ick. How can you drink that stuff?" I rolled my eyes and pushed the mug away.

Mika's giggle coaxed a weak smile from me. "Oh, no. It's not the usual ale," she said. "This is a lovely apple cider that we buy in the village." She pushed the mug toward me again, but as she spoke, she flicked her gaze across the table toward Joshua.

Joshua paused in his conversation with his Ulfr partner and returned her smile, and even in my sour mood I could see the chemistry flash between them.

Joshua and Mika? No way.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Joshua and an Ulfr?

For want of something to do, I wrapped my fingers around the carved mug, forced them to stop shaking and took a tiny, careful sip at first, in case it was some kind of trick. But it wasn't. The cider filled my mouth, teasing my taste buds with pure divine goodness. Not as honey-sweet as the Mead, but just as delicious.

"Thank you." I grinned, a little warm and fuzzy from Mika's drink. When a slightly flushed Joshua leaned forward and introduced himself to Mika, I watched in silent amusement. It didn't take long before I concentrated on sipping my cider slowly, keen to avoid looking at the two of them blushing and making goo-goo eyes at each other, preferring to enjoy my drink without the cringe factor, thank you very much.

At last Mika tore her gaze from Joshua's and leaned closer to me. "Everyone is very eager to leave for Midgard, you know."

I nodded politely, probably the only one reluctant to return to Midgard. The loneliness of it punched me in the gut.

"Well, I see the two of you are getting acquainted," Fen remarked, tapping the shoulder of the Ulfr next to Joshua and nodding a dismissal; the Ulfr rose, bowed and hurried away. Fen sank into the vacated seat beside Joshua, eyes flitting from the younger man to Mika and back again.

Joshua's smile thinned, and he responded with a hesitant up-and-down motion that looked more like a tic than a nod. He looked away from the Ulfr general, his gaze running smack into Mika's. Then he scanned the room as if desperate for someone to call him away. I held in a giggle, partly amazed and partly amused—and, oddly, partly annoyed—as Joshua sat there, torn between his fear of Fen and his attraction to Mika.