Dead Embers(23)

"Loki," four voices said in unison. Guess we all agreed who won the Scumbag of the Year Award. The trickster god was the only one I knew who would be that bold.





Chapter 19




I hated feeling helpless, but that's exactly what we all were. We returned to Asgard, a group of rather glum scout teams. The thing that bugged me most was the fact that I hadn't been able to search for Brody. No new leads, no police or FBI to go searching for us, and without a demand from the people who'd abducted him all we had to do was wait.

And I hated waiting.

We gathered in Odin's hall, feeling superfluous yet beholden, while Fen and the gods talked. Joshua stood a few paces in front of me, his back stiff, the muscles in his neck corded. He hadn't taken his eyes or ears off the discussion up on the dais. And when Fen threw us a dark and worried glance, my heart twisted, my fear almost palpable. The fact that Warriors could die from the slightest physical contact with the substance distressed us all.

Joshua's fear was a very real one. This new, unforeseen problem put every Warrior's life in serious danger. And we didn't even dare to hope that the black substance had no effect on the Valkyries or the Ulfr. I didn't see any Valkyrie or Ulfr volunteering to be tested, and there was certainly no way I'd offer to be anyone's guinea pig. Way too risky.

Voices rose and fell as Fen and Thor reported, and Odin questioned.

Thor raised Mjölnir and gave the hammer a tiny shake, sending off the mildest of vibrations. "Father, I believe I may know now what this substance may be. I will have to verify my suspicion, but I think I am correct." Thor's voice echoed around the hall. "Fenrir's words bring a memory to my mind. I have seen something like this before."

"What is it, my son?" Odin turned his single grey eye to Thor.

"The Black Ice of Jotunnheim." Odin and Fen fell silent as Thor's words rang around the room. He tapped Mjölnir onto his palm, frowning. "Black Ice causes an almost deadly paralysis in a Warrior, and it is so similar to this substance that I cannot think of anything else that fits."

Odin nodded. "My son, this has the ring of truth. Although it does not explain the deadliness of the substance."

"Father, we all know the frost giants are merely waiting until the day they can wage their war upon all of Asgard, and upon you. Perhaps they have found a way to use the Black Ice against your army of Warriors."

The All-Father sat back within the ornate arms of his stone throne, his expression contemplative, concerned and completely unsurprised.

I frowned. Seemed odd that he was taking this all so well. But his next words cleared up my confusion. "It has been a while since my brother Mimir last spoke of the frost giants and their collaboration with the Vanir. We have not been complacent, but there is little we are able to do without information. Mimir has grown more and more silent over the years. He speaks only of what he can still see, of what is of immediate consequence. I have waited for the day the Jotunn will make their first move. And the murders of my Warriors is that move, the first step in their strategy to begin Ragnarok."

A wave of gasps undulated around the room. Every occupant knew what Ragnarok was: the end of the world, the great and destructive battle against the god Odin. A time prophesied to bring death and the end of the age of the Aesir.

***

It was probably a good thing that we weren't allowed to wallow in self-pity. Fen was quick to send us off on our next Retrieval. I, for one, was not complaining.

Mika and I arrived in the snow. Ankle deep in it. Surrounded by it. And as much as I loved the fluffy, flaky kind, I pretty much despised the type of snow that made it impossible to get anywhere.

The Bifrost had deposited us smack in the middle of a field somewhere in Vermont. I gritted my teeth and sighed. A pristine blanket of snow covered the entire countryside, making it fairly impossible for me tell in which direction we needed to go. Frustrating enough to make me willing to try something drastic.

The wind knifed through my coat, and my teeth clattered as I muttered, "Okay. Let me see."

I released my wings, and they flared out behind me in a wide arc. My stomach twinged as a gust of wind sent a flurry of snow whirling around me. Little flakes settled on the feathers, and I suspected that once I was airborne I'd have to get to our destination fast or I'd be weighed down by the steadily falling snow. And we all knew how well it had ended the last time that happened. But I had to try. "Come on, Mika, let's go for a ride."

"What are you doing?" Mika backed away, horror marring her usually placid features. "You must be out of your mind."

"Come on and stop wasting time. We need to get our bearings, and the only way is to get up high. We're looking for a cemetery. That shouldn't be too hard to spot from up there." I pointed at the dull, heavy clouds above us. "And we'd better get a move on, before those clouds decide to dump more snow on us. This is Vermont. Once it starts, we have no idea how long it will take to stop again."

Mika grumbled. "You are insane. I was not meant to fly. Hence, my obvious lack of wings. What if you drop me? What if we both fall out of the sky?"

"Shut up and stop being such a wuss," I said, laughing at the big bad wolf-girl who was scared to fly.

I looped my arms around Mika and shoved off the ground. Needless to say, carrying an Ulfr, all armor-clad and weaponed up, was easier to plan than to execute. We managed to lift off, and I flapped away as hard as I could. Then I toppled forward, tumbled over in midair. Mika screeched as we plummeted down, down, down.

The sound cut off as I fell flat on my face in the soft snow.

Right on top of Mika.

I scrambled to my feet, dusted myself off and massaged my throbbing elbow. No broken limbs—good. No broken wings—better. I really wanted to giggle, but seeing as Mika lay spread-eagled face down in the snow I knew that was probably not a good idea. Not good for my health, anyway.

"Come on, lazybones. Let's make the second time the charm." I grinned, aware she'd find none of my words in the least amusing.

Mika shoved herself off the ground and groaned a groan that sounded way too much like a growl.

Uh oh.

I waited a few seconds, and when she didn't transform and get all furry and cranky, I stepped in and once again wound my arms around her and pushed off the snowy ground.

It wasn't easy at all. The extra weight meant using a different technique to control the muscles on my back and my wings. But it didn't take long to master the art of flying with a passenger. Nor for my partner to want to rip my head off in frustration. The subtle shudder that pulsed through her body as we rose higher brought a wary smile to my lips.

So the big, bad Ulfr was a bit of a scaredy cat.

Tossing her hair out of her face with an angry jerk of her head, Mika yelled back at me against the gusting wind, "If we fall into the snow one more time I swear I will—"

"What? Will you tell your daddy I wasn't playing nice?" I hollered back.

Mika froze for an instant, then she burst out laughing, the sound snatched away by a stiff, powdery gust of wind.

"Yeah, I thought that was funny too," I said, heading higher into the sky.

I had to hand it to Mika. In the end, she didn't kill me. We rose high enough to locate the cemetery, about a mile away. I flew straight there, taking one last glance behind me to memorize my landing spot- the rundown shed with three broken windows, due north of the muddied slush our flight training escapades had made with the snow.

I landed with Mika in the shadows of a little clump of trees. Mika stretched her legs and smiled. "Thank you, Valkyrie. I am not sure what I want to kiss more: you or the ground."

I raised an eyebrow at her, unsure whether laughter was a safe reaction. "Let's hope we never have to do that again."

I didn't have the heart, or the courage, to remind her that a return trip was actually required.

As we set out in search of the grave of the newest Warrior, little fingers of a different kind of chill ran up and down my neck. I looked around, eyes stabbing the shadows. The sense of being followed or watched was way too strong to shrug off.

"Bryn," Mika called. I flinched as her voice rang out across the field of headstones.

"Will you keep it down? You're loud enough to wake the dead."

"You are the one who wakes the dead, not me," she said, and I could have sworn a smile edged those words.

"I choose the dead, I don't wake them. Get your facts straight, Ulfr," I retorted.

As we walked, I tried to shrug off the strange feeling of being watched. We headed through the trees, scanning the snow-covered graveyard. Mika pulled a sheet of paper from her pocket and smoothed it out.

"The name is Sebastian Blake," she said. We agreed to split up to speed up the search.

Not five minutes later, I stood before a neat little headstone proclaiming the man's name. "Mika," I called, flinching again at how loud my voice sounded in the icy air. Two rows over, she whirled around and loped back to join me.

I crossed my fingers as we drew closer, praying that this time we would find a live Warrior.

Mika squinted and raked her eyes across the graveyard. "Right, work your magic."

"What magic?" I glared at her, no patience for her wisecracks.

"You really don't know how to do it?" Mika asked, her hands on her hips demanding an answer.

"Do what? Can you stop wasting time and get to the point," I snapped.