Dead Radiance(48)

And boy did we have some mythbusting answers for her.





Chapter 37



We checked out and set off for the stinking alley, our boots killing the beautiful, fluffy snowflakes littering the sidewalk. Soon the pristine white would be transformed into a wet, black sludge.

Aidan walked silently beside me while I searched the streets for any sign of Loki.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned about his silence.

He grumbled. "Couldn't Hugin have told us about this magic bridge back in Missouri, and saved us three days of driving? Not to mention several felonies." His eyes scanned the grey sky for the raven. Hugin circled high above us, out of earshot.

"Maybe we had to prove ourselves first," I said. "Or maybe the Bridge doesn't connect to DC." Aidan shrugged. He stopped a moment, closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

"Aidan!" I touched his shoulder. "Are you okay, really?"

"Yeah, just tired. Not sure what's up. Maybe it's coming back to Midgard. Yikes, I can never get used to calling our world Midgard." Aidan shook his head, black curls bouncing. They'd grown, just brushing his shoulders.

I handed him one of the small leather pouches of Mead that Sigrun had packed. Suddenly I longed to see my friend again. I hadn't had this experience before, missing a living person so deeply. I'd ached for Joshua's presence after he'd died. And for Aidan I'd keened inside, my grief both for my broken and my betrayed heart. But now I just missed Sigrun as you'd miss a friend and confidante. I held the thought close to me.

Aidan slugged, then returned the pouch. Almost reluctantly. I watched his face. Saw the pleasure there. And I worried. Feared he would get addicted. He'd need the drink more and more over the next few days. I had to preserve our stash and decided to keep a better eye on the Mead from that moment on. The longer we remained here the more we'd need the Mead.

We reached the alley, Hugin leading. It stank. Urine, garbage and heaven knew what else. Hugin flew down and perched on my shoulder, like an ever-present, overbearing conscience. We stood, almost hidden from the street by the incongruously cheerful blue dumpster.

"Stand together, side by side and be calm," he said.

I repeated his words to Aidan, who raised a questioning eyebrow. He also raised one offended nostril, as if asking me if this could seriously be the location of the Bridge. I shrugged and tried clear my thoughts.

"Think of Greenland and your professor." Hugin's sultry baritone spoke in my ear.

"Er, I don't really know much about either of them," I admitted, unsure how I'd get there if I hadn't met the archaeologist or ever been to Greenland.

"That is not a problem. Just think of both her name and the place you intend to go to. The Bridge knows what's in your mind. It will connect you to her. That is why you need to clear your mind of other thoughts or you might end up going somewhere else."

Again, I relayed Hugin's comments to Aidan. At first I felt slightly ridiculous, standing in a dark, dank, dead-end alley, facing a mold-ridden brick wall beside a foul-smelling dumpster. But once I settled my mind and concentrated, I forgot about our location. My mind focused elsewhere. I felt light-headed.

Pain spliced my ribs, agony spread white-hot fingers into my flesh. Was this right? I gasped, thrown back by the momentum of the pain, disoriented and confused. What had Hugin done to me?

"Bryn? What's the matter?" Aidan's voice swam down to me, distorted as if we were conversing underwater. His hands went around me to support me as I began to fall to the ground. His touch sent blinding shafts of pain into my side. I sagged against the dumpster and grunted in agony, but I refused to be a wuss and scream.

"Don't touch me," I tried to say, but all that left my mouth was hysterical groaning.

"Shit!" Aidan's hand came away from my side. Though my eyes were heavy-lidded with pain, I watched him gape at his hand, now coated thickly in ripe red blood.

Hugin fluttered around, the speed of his wings amplified by his anxiety.

"What happened?" Aidan shouted. He opened my coat and found the glamor hiding my Valkyrie attire had disappeared. Blood saturated the chainmail, seeping through the fine bronze links, with a perfect red circle at the center of the leaking wound. "You've been shot, Bryn."

He reached for my hems, both chainmail and dress, lifting carefully until he reached the wound. I didn't care that my thighs were bared, or that my entire midriff was open to view. The pain wiped out every bit of modesty I had left. Aidan inspected the entrance of the wound with tender fingers, then slipped his hand beneath my back, checking for an exit wound. Alarm filled his eyes. His fingers found the ridges of the open wound, coming away moist and red.

He covered me up, then, an expression of poisonous anger on his face. When he peeked around the edge of the dumpster to search for the sniper, he almost received a bullet to his face for his troubles. It plunged into the brick on the wall behind him, sending a silent shower of dust floating to the grime-coated alley floor.

Fear sluiced through my veins so fast my hands and knees shook. My vision had cleared, although it took far too long for my liking. I struggled to sit up higher, knowing we needed to hurry to get out of this place. Funny, but I did prefer to be as far away from snipers as possible, considering my current condition.

"Aidan?"

A stricken look haunted his face—no surprise after having almost met a bullet in the face twice in so many weeks. "Yes, I'm here. What do you need?"

"The Bifrost. It's our only way out."

He nodded and looked at Hugin. "Alright, Blackbird. Let's get out of here."

I desperately wanted to laugh as Aidan helped me get back on my feet, imagining what Hugin would think of his new nickname. The world spun around me and all I could think of was Mead.

"I think I need some Mead before we use the Bifrost. Who knows how the traveling will affect me."

Aidan obliged and I soon downed half a bag of Mead. Some part of my consciousness screamed at me not to drink too much. Aidan would need the rest. I tried to think. How many had he used, how many had we brought? My head hurt. Too hard to think.

A few moments later I felt better, breathed easier. Even the world righted itself a little. I let go of Aidan's arm, and stood on quivering legs.

"Can we go now?" I asked.

Aidan choked back a laugh. Another bullet ricocheted off the wall. "Yes, ma'am," he said.

We stayed within the shadows of the dumpster. Aidan wouldn't dare to risk his life again by checking who had shot at us. We both concentrated hard, thinking of Greenland and the Professor.

Then we stepped forward, knowing they would see us once we moved out of the shadows. Why did the entrance to the Bridge have to be out in the open? Especially when somewhere out there Worthington and his partner were trying to terminate us.

We held out breaths and prayed. Everything slowed down, to the point that I heard the pop of the bullets disengaging from the barrels, the whoosh as they sped through the air, heading straight toward us.

A low hum surrounded us and I was pulled forward, sucked into a strange vortex of air currents.





Chapter 38



I stumbled as my feet hit solid ground again. I whirled and turned, panicked when I couldn't see Aidan. But the thwack of his heels hitting the ground beside me was a comforting sound.

I looked around, absorbing the biting air as it fought its way into my skin, right into my bones. I shook with the cold, despite my armor still maintaining the warm temperature of my body. Aidan shivered beside me. Thank heaven we hadn't ended up standing in the icy snow or on a lonely glacier out in the white wilderness. No. I thought. Thank you, Bifrost.

Each trip on the Bifrost was slightly different. My trips with Fen were blink-and-you're-there, yet this one felt like a ride on a little tornado. Tornado! In that pain-filled moment I recalled my first trip on the Bifrost. From Ms. Custer's front yard. Had there really been an entrance to the Bridge right on my doorstep all this time?

A violent shiver pulled me out of my thoughts. We stood in the middle of a passage marked with sealed doors at regular intervals. A metal door, set with a large window, guarded the end of the passage. Beyond the door snow swirled, so thick it was impossible to say if it was twilight or high noon.

Biting agony forced its way into every conscious brain cell. The pain hadn't worsened, but it hadn't lightened either. I hoped the Mead had done some good. My palm went to my ribs, where heat radiated out of my body like flames in an overactive furnace. My hand came away with blood. Not the thick, pulsing surge it had been beside the dumpster, rather a steady dribble that, hopefully, meant I was on the mend.

Wings flapped and fluttered, and Hugin made an appearance, for once not the picture of calm. Black feathers fluttered to the floor as he landed on Aidan's shoulder. Shocked, Aidan almost dusted him off, but caught his hand at the last minute. He stared at the bird out of the corner of his eye, standing stiff and uncomfortable with his new burden.

"You okay?" I asked the perturbed creature.

"Yes, although it is not every day I get shot at," he answered.

"Yes, I agree. Not a usual occurrence for us either." I forced the words out as adrenalin vacated my body in one sweeping rush.

I staggered against the wall, sliding slowly to the ground, unable to stop my descent. Aidan crouched beside me, pulling my coat forward to look at the wound. Soon I found the half-pouch of Mead stuck in my face. I drank, again filled with guilt. As yet I hadn't felt a significant change to my condition other than the halting of the bleeding.