Damn, a little on the nose, runes. Edie sighed and rubbed her tattoo.
They moved on to the middle row of tiles, and Indriði pointed to the first one. But she didn’t say anything—she was silent, and eventually creased her brow as if she didn’t quite understand what she was seeing.
“Is something wrong?” Edie asked quietly.
“This row,” the Norn said, “represents the present. This tile symbolizes hidden forces as work now.”
“Okay….” She peered at it. Maybe she had some a secret admirer who would start sending her money and flowers any day now. The money, at least, would be nice.
“Thurisaz. It’s merkstave.”
Oh. Bad, then.
“It’s telling me that there’s danger—hidden danger. You’re defenseless somehow, in a way you’ve yet to realize.” Indriði squinted at the rune. “You’re being betrayed, and whoever is betraying you knows what they’re doing. They’re doing it to hurt you.”
Edie felt her face go numb. God forbid she was right about how Zaedicus had gotten his info. “Could it mean the Gloaming?”
“No, this is someone you’ve yet to discover is evil. They’re taking you for a ride, Edie, and they enjoy dominating you.”
Edie gripped her ruined jacket tighter and said nothing. Could one of her friends really be lying to her? Surely the runes were up for interpretation, and they could mean something else. Although … Indriði was a Norn, and supposed to be more in tune with Fate than anyone else. “What else?”
Indriði watched her for a moment before moving onto the next rune. Again, she paused. “This one is merkstave ehwaz. It’s not necessarily bad. It’s mostly used to confirm the runes around it,” she said carefully. “Considering the rune before it, it probably means contention. Mistrust. Betrayal.”
“Okay, what’s the next one?” Edie pressed, desperate to hear some good news. The palm-reading drag queen had told her how old she’d live to be and how many kids she’d have, not any of this heavy shit.
“The next one represents your attitude toward present events, and it’s merkstave, too, I’m afraid.” Indriði frowned and clasped her hands, eyeing the last tile in the row. “Berkana. It says you’re having domestic problems, anxiety about the people close to you. You feel like you’re losing control.” She paused, then added, “It can also indicate that you’re lying to yourself.”
Edie ran a hand through her hair and took another tiny sip of water. “I don’t suppose the future is any brighter.”
Indriði moved on to the top row. “The first is the hidden forces that will act in your future. The rune, isaz, tells me that you’re going to have a hidden challenge in your future. It’s also saying that betrayal, illusion, and deceit will follow you. There’s going to be some sort of ambush, or a plot against you. Someone sly and cunning will trick you.”
Wow. She really couldn’t catch a break, could she?
As Indriði continued, she seemed to become increasingly disturbed by what she saw. “This, hagalaz, represents what you will see in the future. It can’t be reversed, so it’s not merkstave—”
Edie’s shoulders sank with relief.
“—but it still symbolizes crisis.”
“Fuck me!”
“Specifically, crises involving nature. Like … a natural disaster. It could also symbolize chaos in general. Maybe both. Catastrophe, pain, suffering, and loss.”
“I assume the next one is my … what, reaction to the catastrophe? What I’ll do?”
“Yes—” Indriði cut off as she moved onto the next tile, and glared at it. “What the hell?”
Edie looked, too, and saw that it was blank—a smooth tile with no rune.
“Why the hell is this here? I never use a blank tile.” The Norn plucked it off the table like she was picking up a particularly gross piece of rotten food and flicked it across the room.
Edie frowned, looking down at the other tiles. “What does the blank one mean?”
“‘Fate will decide.’ Of course Fate will decide. It’s garbage. Useless. I was sure this set didn’t even have one.”
Edie leaned back in her chair, hugging herself around the middle. She had the feeling that Indriði had been trying to comfort her with the runecasting, but it had only made her infinitely more upset. Apparently, there was nothing but betrayal in her past, present, and future.
The Norn rose from where she was sitting and went to Edie, crouching next to her seat and taking her hand. Augustus gurgled in protest, but she ignored him. “Listen, honey … you seem like a nice girl. But you’re confused, and you’re going through a lot of change. Some people are like leeches. They can sense that you need guidance or you’re vulnerable, and they take advantage of that.”
Edie closed her eyes and thought of all the people who had guided her the past couple months. Astrid. Cal. She frowned, her heart sinking as she remembered something that had been bothering her. She opened her eyes. “My friend Cal has been acting really weird lately. Like … guilty and shifty.”
Indriði raised a brow. “Cal?”
“My dad’s revenant. He ran away when my dad died, but he came back when I got my powers because he thought he’d have to kill me. He’s not a huge fan of hellerunan.” When Indriði only stared at her, she continued. “He’s the one who took me to meet Astrid in the first place. He thought she’d help me figure out my powers, but she just wanted me to do work for the Reach.”
The Norn was quiet for so long that Edie wondered if she’d said something wrong. Then she squeezed Edie’s hand and said, “Let me get this straight. A revenant showed up at your door, attempting to kill you. He hated your father, he hates hellerunan, he dropped you into the lap of a spirit of death … and you trust this person?”
Edie was still. She had never considered that Cal might not be trustworthy. Sure, he’d shown up with the intention of killing her, but he’d saved her ass a ton of times since then. “No, he hates the Gloaming. He would never.” She shook her head hard, like that might get the idea out of it.
“He doesn’t have to be Gloaming to betray you,” Indriði scoffed. “You think the Gloaming and Aurora are the only ones who have hurt people? The only ones who have condoned slavery and war? The Reach isn’t the bastion of peace and civility Astrid would like you to believe. Especially not while she’s in it.”
“But Astrid wants me to be the Reacher. I could make it better.”
The Norn huffed and shook her head. “Edie, Astrid and I were very close, for many, many years. I know her better than anyone. Trust me when I tell you this: She doesn’t want a leader. She wants a scapegoat.”
Chapter Six
Marius wrenched open the top drawer of his dresser and yanked the towel from his waist, balling it up and throwing it at a nearby chair. He tossed things aside carelessly as he searched for his warmest underclothes, then he balled those up, too, and pitched them at his bed.
At least he wasn’t feeling as fatigued as he had for the first month after Zaedicus’s party. He had been in the midst of battle before, but to face someone like Sárr one-on-one had been harrowing. In the end, he’d won, but the cost to himself had been great. He’d been almost as injured as his opponent, and had been confined to his bed for weeks after. Not that he had been in much of a condition to fight or train anyway. Unleashing his aura of light didn’t ordinarily take so much out of him, but then again, nothing about that night had been ordinary.
His father had been displeased to say the least. When Marius had finally come to, Radiant Eirik had been right there, watching over him. For the first couple of days, Marius thought maybe he’d gotten away with it. His father seemed so genuinely frightened at his condition that he hadn’t brought up the party; he simply sat with him, prayed with him, and instructed him to rest. But that hadn’t lasted long. Once Marius could stand up and move around more properly, he’d gotten the lecture of his lifetime.
Marius gritted his teeth against the thought and tugged on a shirt, ignoring the unplea
sant feeling of linen clinging to wet skin. Grabbing a comb and the gel he used to slick his curly hair out of his face, he focused on the reflection in the mirror before him. He’d saved people—just the wrong people. And worse, he couldn’t stop wondering if they were okay.
Especially Edie.
He’d been having dreams about her. They never seemed to happen at night. Since he’d been laid up in bed, he had gotten used to waking later than usual and skipping first light prayers. The dreams only came in the early morning, when the sun was just filtering into his bedroom and he was beginning to stir. He swore he felt someone in bed with him, warm, barely touching him across the mattress. When he reached for her, the dream would become hazy, only to come back in full force an instant later. She’d turn and smile, her stormy eyes sleepy little crescents.
She didn’t quite look like herself, an imperfect memory. Nonetheless, absolute contentment enveloped him every time. When he pulled her close, there was nothing but peace.
The feeling made it all the more painful when someone inevitably came in to wake him. For the past few weeks, he had made a concerted effort to get up before dawn to avoid such dreams. At first, it had been a relief to avoid them … but sometimes, he found himself longing for that feeling again.
Marius pulled on his breeches and boots, putting her out of his mind and instead turning his thoughts to his mission for today, the first his father had allowed him to go on since the party. Ynga’s testament to Marius’s behavior and her careful extraction from the battle had pleased the Radiant, and he’d nominated her as a candidate for Tyr’s Rite shortly after their return to the temple.
Since the New Gloaming had begun parading openly around the city, she had been deployed often, and had even successfully commanded a small squad of adherents quelling riots and raiding Gloaming hideouts. Those things were impressive, but today, her real proving would begin. Under Marius’s supervision, they would see if she really was cut out to be a vivid.
Exactly what her trial was would be a mystery to both of them until they met with his father. Marius crossed the room to his armor rack and slipped into his arming doublet. Most of the vivids’ gear was modified in some way to make it easier to put on with one hand, and he’d had almost three years to practice. He fastened it closed without missing a beat and moved on to his greaves.
Even with the modified gear, without help, donning his heavier armor was a long process, and he might not get the right fit. He stepped into the hall for a moment and flagged down one of the pages running back and forth in the dormitory corridors. Marius and the boy worked in silence as they secured his breastplate and pauldron, and finally, the wolf’s head vambrace. He studied its snarling mouth, staring at it for so long he almost forgot to dismiss the boy.
By the time he was dressed, it was half past seven. He was supposed to be standing in front of his father now. Hopefully, showing up late wouldn’t result in more punishment. The last thing he wanted was to be sent to the Golden Crypt again and forced to polish Radiant Ellander’s armor, or the Lance of Hidden Stars, or the Puretongue’s stupid dagger of truth, which always left him with cuts all over his fingers, without fail.
From his bedpost, he grabbed the cloak he’d worn to the party, the one with the sunburst clasps. He’d become fond of it. If he held it close enough, he swore it still had the lingering smell of—
Marius shook his head. He threw the cloak over his shoulders, locked his door, and hurried across the grounds toward the pyre of translocation that the Radiant had ordered built the night before.
His still-wet hair frosted a bit as he stepped out into the early morning. Winter rarely touched the temple grounds, but it had been so unseasonably cold lately that Marius was starting to wonder if something was wrong. His father hadn’t acknowledged it, so it was probably nothing, but….
Marius slowed as he walked along the dormitory veranda. A stone mural there depicted Tyr with his right hand in Fenrir’s mouth, a resigned look on his bearded face. Marius’s heart clenched for a moment, remembering Sárr’s wolf companions. There was little doubt that they were Hati and Sköll, sons of Fenrir. Though Sárr hadn’t revealed any plan beyond dominating the Gloaming, anything involving the devourers of the sun and moon had to be catastrophic.
The New Gloaming was taking over, changing the landscape of their centuries-old conflict—but the Aurora hadn’t adapted. They were only meeting the Gloaming, inconveniencing them, not pursuing them. And despite the clear threat Sárr posed, Edie Holloway remained their primary objective.
Marius was alarmed, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. For as long as Marius could remember, Radiant Eirik had had a gift for predicting the future. It was a gift from the dís—a spirit of Fate, usually a lesser Norn—that had presided over his birth. Every newborn was attached to a spirit of Fate who led them through the weave and weft of their life, and they often gifted them with aptitude for certain things. Eirik’s dís had been especially generous.
Because of this, Radiant Eirik often worked at problems from angles no one else could understand. Maybe he’d seen a near future where the hellerune joined the New Gloaming and turned the tides, or maybe she was simply more dangerous than any of them realized.
Marius just wished Eirik would share his plans with others—with his son, at the very least. He could help. Eirik didn’t have to do it all alone, but he certainly seemed to think he did.
When Marius finally reached the temple grounds courtyard, he followed the stone path to the pyre. The structure that held the raging bonfire was a twenty-foot spherical frame of scorched steel, shaped to depict a scene of warriors with banners and swords kneeling under the sun. The base on which the sphere sat was a massive, ancient tree stump, and a short stairway upward disappeared into a break between metal warriors—a sort of doorway leading directly into the fire.
Standing a few feet in front of the first step were Ynga and his father. As far as Marius could see, they were the only three people in the courtyard.
“My apologies,” he said simply as he hurried to Ynga’s side, keeping his head bowed. He was only a few minutes late, but he was sure the Radiant had noticed. His father always noticed things like that, even if he didn’t say anything.
Eirik was quiet for a moment, looking him over. Then, as though nothing had happened, he crossed his arms behind his back and looked at Ynga. “Adherent, do you accept Vivid Marius as your escort during your proving?”
“I do,” Ynga said, though she didn’t even look at Marius. He’d had such hopes for their friendship, but she hadn’t said a word to him in the past couple months. Everything he knew about her progress was from his father, or else overheard from other adherents and vivids.
“Very well.” The Radiant nodded and gestured between them. “You will be taking the pyre of translocation to a heimdyrr in the White Mountains, nearly 200 miles north of here.”
Ynga tilted her head. “A door to one of the other Worlds? I’ve never been anywhere but Midgard.” Her tone was reserved, but Marius could see a glint of excitement in her eyes.
“Few adherents have ever left Midgard, but a vivid must be prepared to answer Tyr’s call to any of the other eight Worlds. Some humans don’t acclimate well to the journey through the heimdyrr.” The Radiant smiled. “So, you see, the going through is a test in itself. Marius journeyed to another World for his proving, too.”
Ynga turned her head and asked, “Where?” The first word she’d said to him in months.
“I went to a forest in Vanaheim,” he said. “I killed a huge, mad boar who was ruining a landvættr’s garden. She made me a drinking horn from his tusk.” He patted his hip, where the horn hung from his belt.
“You will be going to Jotunheim, land of the giants.”
The Radiant produced two leather satchels that Marius hadn’t noticed before and handed one to each of them. Marius immediately slung his onto his back, but Ynga opened hers and began to sift through its contents.
“There is a troll
there, residing in a network of caves near where you’ll enter the realm. He stole an artifact from a runepriest during a pilgrimage—a prophetic mirror that he blessed in Mimir’s Well. You are to destroy the troll and retrieve the mirror.” Eirik pointed to their packs. “You’ll find everything you need for the journey in there.”
He turned away from them and withdrew a small pouch from his armor, then took a pinch of its contents and threw it in the fire. Though Marius couldn’t see what it was, he’d translocated many times before. The fire would only take you were you wanted to go if you offered it something from the land around your target destination, usually a certain plant. The Aurora had a large greenhouse filled exclusively with materials for translocation, carefully potted and tended by botanists.
The fire within the sphere flared up for a moment, the blessed flames reacting with the material. If Marius shifted and squinted just right, he could almost see a gray, rainy scene on the other side of the fire—not at all like the crisp morning in the courtyard.
The Radiant turned back to them. “You step through first, Adherent, and Vivid Marius will follow you shortly.”
Ynga slung her satchel across her chest and pulled her cloak tighter, then stepped up to the first step of the pyre stairs. She glanced back at Eirik and Marius for a moment before ascending. Marius could sense her hesitation, and he couldn’t say he blamed her. He still remembered using the pyre for the first time. The flames were as sweltering as any other fire until the second you stepped into them. It was still a bit disconcerting.
The adherent took a deep breath before hurrying through. Her form disappeared into the flames, then was gone.
No Earthly Treason (The Necromancer's Daughter Book 2) Page 5
