by Amy B. Nixon
“My brother and I… We come from a line of Sentinel guardians since before they moved from Denmark. My mother is in politics, but the rest are guardians working for citadels, law enforcement organizations and… and places similar to this one.”
“Okay,” I said quietly.
“My mother tried to force me to follow tradition. That’s how you became my roommate.”
“Hallvard Nordstrøm told Administration to put me in your room, not your mother. And what does that have to do with me? What’s a guardian?”
“They wanted me to become part of your team.”
She rested her elbows on her knees and dropped her head in her hands.
“Monika, I don’t understand any of this.”
“You’re a Dustrikke. Some guardians serve as protectors of people like you. Like… like magical bodyguards. I didn’t tell you because I never wanted to become a guardian to begin with. I knew if I persuaded my mother, they would have appointed you someone else later, when your aunt came here.”
“Why would I need protection from something?” I asked one of the questions bothering me since the night my aunt shipped me off to Norway.
She straightened up, glancing in my direction.
“Because you’re a direct descendant of Linnea Dustrikke.”
“Why would I need protection?” I repeated.
“There… there are forces in Midgard and beyond it, and for them we, necromancers, and our eitr, are just pawns in a larger game.”
“So, guardians protect eitr?”
She slowly rubbed her thighs, avoiding my eyes and staring straight ahead. “Eitr, and many other things.”
Instinctively, I drew back from her.
“So, the Council made you put up with me because they groomed you to be my magical bodyguard?”
“They won’t make me a guardian after I caused the death of a Zolotov student and broke protocol, knowing full well about the anti-Aperture wards. But I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen. I just wanted you to see what it was like to be outside. And only because Aurora was with us. I can’t Aperture anywhere off the island or get back on it with magic, only guards can overpower the anti-Aperture wards. Aurora knows how to do it, because she’s Hallvard’s niece.”
I exhaled, suddenly aware I had forgotten to breathe for a while.
This was why my aunt said I’d be safer here. It wasn’t only because of wards, protections and guards. It wasn’t only because I’d be able to develop my dangerous magical skill set and learn how to control it away from humans.
It was also because they would appoint me my personal security detail. Not one, but an entire team of guardians, as Monika had disclosed.
“How long have you known about this?”
“Since the day you came here. Remember when my phone buzzed, and I had to leave you? It was a text from my Mom. The Council called me in and told me why they’ve made you my roommate. I tried to fight it, but after the whole island saw your Draug, my mother was explicit of your need for someone to watch over you, even if that someone wasn’t an official guardian.”
I didn’t reply.
The Council didn’t see me as a problematic Dustrikke who would need to live up to her great ancestors’ name. They saw me as their precious fucking gem. One who had to wear an Eitrhals, needed a set of eyes to spy on her, and had to put up with someone as relentless as Brühl.
“You’re missing most of the time,” I noted quietly. “How did they expect you to watch over me?”
“By quitting my mundane studies in Oslo, which I didn’t do. My mother didn’t trust I can do both. She was right.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth earlier?” I asked with bated breath.
A tear rolled down her face.
“I wanted to, but my mother said they don’t want to cause panic because you were safe inside the castle. And they wouldn’t have made me an official guardian before I completed my magical training, so… I figured I had enough time to change my mother’s mind, and… Well, this way, there wouldn’t have been a secret anymore.”
But she was wrong.
Changing her mother’s decision wouldn’t have put the end to a secret. It simply meant she would have buried said secret and pretended it never happened.
Cold, blunt numbness settled deep within me.
“Learyn, please believe me. I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
Neither one of us did, but in the end, our intentions didn’t matter. At least not to Gabriella and her family.
“I still don’t understand one thing. You pulled me from the edge when that Nøkken grabbed me. If you knew souls can get lost in Forsand, why didn’t you also pull Gabriella before the Nøkk reached her?”
“It was extraction protocol. Nordstrøm and Dustrikke come first, in order of whoever is in greater danger. I didn’t… I didn’t think about anything else, and tried to drag you to Aurora, so she could get us back here.”
“Extraction protocol,” I repeated quietly.
Part of me wanted to hear a different answer. Maybe something like I’d been hurt and Monika saw it, which was why she rushed to get me first. Maybe how she was worried for her roommate. Friend, even?
But instead, I heard extraction protocol.
It was all I had been to her, just an assignment forced down on her by the Council. Hallvard’s gang thought she’d be able to help me with my transition on top of secretly acting like a guardian. I was just a Dustrikke to them and just a Dustrikke to her. She wasn’t being friendly to me because of me, but because of my last name.
Here I was, believing I had clicked with someone and finally managed to start letting people in, when all I had been believing was yet another string of lies.
The revelation should have hurt. Maybe deep down it really did. My capacity for feeling pain was so fucking full, all I felt was the burning need to punch something.
“I’m sending that Christmas box full of shit under your tree!”
Before she could reply, I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me as hard as I could. I didn’t give a damn if I broke it. I didn’t give a damn if Monika had something else to tell me. I didn’t give a damn if I woke up the entire freaking castle. I didn’t even give a damn where my feet were taking me. All I knew was that I had to get away.
But how could I?
Coming to Norway, hoping the change of scenery would give me a change of mind, becoming a necromancer-in-learning, accepting my true identity… It was all for nothing. A month ago, relocating to Europe had seemed right, yet here I was, countless miles away, and I still had nightmares, trust issues, an extremely short fuse, and a lack of people who classified as friends.
Moving from one corridor to another, my anger slowly gave way to a weird sort of need to lock myself in the comfort of my old room in San Francisco. I couldn’t do that, so I opted for the next best thing. I pulled out my phone and dialed my aunt’s number, desperate to hear her familiar voice and pretend for a second I wasn’t here.
Voicemail.
“Aunty, you were right to keep me away. I’m sorry for acting out the way I did. You wanted me to have a safe life away from all this, and I should have listened to you instead of blamed you. You made the right choice. I didn’t realize it back then, but I do now. I miss you. Call me back when you get this.” I was about to hang up, then remembered something else. “Thank you for keeping me safe and alive all these years, and…” I didn’t want to worry her, so I just added, “And I really am sorry. Please call me back when you can.”
Hanging up with a heavy sigh, I glanced around. What now?
I had a roommate who had only been pretending to be my friend from day one. I had the death of a girl on my conscience. I had Aurora who obviously hated me more than ever. I had a creepy Nøkken song stuck in my head. And I had the line Marked by Amyria picking at my brain. Who was Amyria, and what did those creatures mean by it?
“Dustrikke!”
An unknown man in a black guard’s uniform approache
d.
“Ugh, what?” I groaned. “Is this corridor forbidden or something?”
“What are you doing roaming around so late? Are you trying to run off again?”
“Of course not, I like being alive.” I wasn’t lying, but my next statement was indeed a lie – one taken straight from Dann Nordstrøm’s playbook. “I was heading to the library, decided to take a different route, ended up lost. Got any pointers for me?”
He studied me head to toe.
“I’ll lead you there.”
“Geez, thanks, looks like I have a brand-new security detail. How fancy! Are you gonna put men in front of my bedroom door to keep my midnight snacking in check?”
“Do not joke about this! We take the safety of everyone seriously, especially now, when a visitor from the Zolotov Academy was lost while under our protection.”
FML! Did he have to remind me?
“Look, buddy, if you think I don’t feel guilty, you’re wrong! It wasn’t my idea to sneak out, so trust me when I tell you, I prefer staying inside the castle, surrounded by wards and protections, next to risking my life again. Or the lives of others!”
“I can’t let you wander the halls in good faith of your word. The library’s this way.”
I gave up on arguing and let him lead the way until we reached two familiar doors. He didn’t leave before making sure I opened them and slipped inside the library. Who the hell had given him such stupid orders? Did the Council really think I was going to cause more trouble? Were Monika and Aurora also being watched and bossed around? I highly doubted it. One of them was the daughter of Hallvard’s Right Hand. The other one practically owned the place.
The way I saw it, there were two options – either go back to my room and face Monika, or stay in the library and try to find something about this Amyria person. Too overwhelmed by both, I picked a third option – go for a walk and clear my head. I did live inside a freaking castle, after all. There were tons of places I could go to.
And so, I slowly opened the doors, checked to see if the coast was clear, snuck out and kept going.
Swapping one corridor for another, my direction was aimless until I heard approaching footsteps and ran off, searching for a place to hide. It looked like I was trying to bolt before, but if I was caught in the act twice in one night, I’d definitely get myself in deep waters.
There was a single door on my left, so I decided to hide in whatever room was behind it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a room behind it, but a narrow, curved staircase, which sent me flying dozens of stony steps down. When I finally managed to get a grip and overrule inertia, my body ached so much, only the fear of getting caught prevented me from squealing in pain.
Rubbing the painful spots, I turned my phone’s flashlight app on, then slowly kept going down until the end of the stairs. A metal door barred my way. Opening it resulted in a nasty creaking sound, ringing disturbingly in my ears. I grimaced, praying nobody had heard it.
The door led to a small, torch-lit gallery with arched ceiling. Numerous other doors stood on both sides, while the wall across me ended with a curve. Turning off the flashlight app and crossing the gallery, I faced a long tunnel stretching far beyond that curve. There were more doors, too many doors, and my brain hamster finally spun on its wheel. I was probably somewhere in the basements.
Or rather, the dungeons.
Icy shivers ran down the back of my neck, making all the sore places grow numb.
Maksim had said the dungeons were used for storage and Húsvættir sleeping grounds. Recalling the first and only time I had seen a house spirit, I preferred not to see an entire horde of them. Then again, next to the Nøkk, house spirits actually didn’t look so bad. But just as I was about to turn back, a quiet melody broke through the silence and rendered me motionless.
Someone was playing piano in the castle’s dungeons.
Still angry at Monika, I was afraid of bumping into guards, and I didn’t see Húsvættir as the scariest creatures in the universe anymore. All of these factors joined forces, prompting me to follow the sound. House spirits had short hands and eight crooked fingers, or at least the one I’d seen did. Yet, the music sounded so exquisite and gentle, my infamous unhealthy curiosity got the best of me.
I paused in front of a door and listened closely. It was definitely coming from behind it, and so I put my hand on the handle. Sneaking up on someone wasn’t polite, but I was too curious and unwilling to go back, so I pulled the door.
There wasn’t anything behind it, just some dark space the size of a small pantry, with more doors on both opposite ends, and a tiny barred window across me. Obstructed by clouds, pale moonlight barely lit up the emptiness around me. Combined with the fact that this was probably once a cell, my surroundings only made me regret the decision to seek a hiding spot behind that first door upstairs.
I closed my eyes and listened. The music bounced off the stony walls and resonated across every single inch of empty space. Drawing a short breath, I opted for the right.
What awaited there was a two-by-two-feet cell. Countless strings of chains hung from its ceiling like a beaded curtain. Varying in thickness and size, they were strung along in a chaotic zigzag-like sequence, forcing me to imagine the horrible things they had been used for. And all the bloody wounds they had carved into naked flesh before someone had stored them here.
Frostbite licked my spine. I spun around and ran straight for the other door.
What awaited there wasn’t a dungeon cell. Numerous boxes and uneven bumps, hidden under white covers, were spread all over the place. They gave off a ghastly impression that someone had died here, and their family had covered his or her furniture with white bed sheets. On the bright side, as appalling as this storage room was, no chains and shackles graced it.
Slowly making my way around the boxes and covered items, I did my best not to brush against whatever was hiding under the white sheets. Reaching the far end, I grabbed the handle of yet another door.
It led me to a huge room, lit by two ancient candelabras, with a single piece of furniture between them – a gigantic grand piano with an open top lid. It revealed metallic and wooden mechanisms, standing out against the instrument’s ebony exterior. The piano player wasn’t a house spirit.
It was Dann Nordstrøm.
A sullen look was etched on his face. With eyes closed and mouth curved down in a frown, his eyebrows were furrowed, carving deep creases on his forehead.
Aurora’s words invaded my mind. I could see why she thought there was something between us. I could see all the reasons now.
He was tall and slender, slightly muscular. Blond. Blue-eyed. And only twenty-six. When he smiled, a set of cute dimples dug into his cheeks. I couldn’t deny he was handsome, but there was more to him. He was patient and polite, his mind was sharp and perceptive, and he read poetry, which led me to believe he was one of those romantic types. On top of it all, he played the piano. Yeah, it definitely made sense for Dann to have an entire legion of insipid playthings.
Fortunately for his sister, I wasn’t interested in becoming one.
I couldn’t see his hands because they were hidden by the instrument’s body, but I could tell he was a skillful pianist. The melody sounded deep, accompanied by delicate high notes from time to time. The flow was seamless, like he wasn’t lifting his fingers from the keys at all; but I had never played piano, so I didn’t know what was going on in front of him.
The music was too captivating. I forgot the creepy cells and storage rooms. Apparently, I had even forgotten how to breathe, and realized it only when the melody ceased.
Fuck! He had seen me. Amidst the sudden silence, the sound of my swallowing pounded on my eardrums.
His expression quickly changed from startled to surprised, then to full-blown stony. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t pick out a single emotion in him. I closed the door behind me and leaned on it. No matter how much I stared, his exterior was impenetrable.
“It was beautiful,” I ad
mitted after a while. “Did you write it?”
“Just an improvisation on Queen of Rain by Roxette. The original is better.”
“The Swedish chick who got famous with Listen To Your Heart?”
“Duo act, not a chick,” he corrected me with an edifying voice, which became cynical. “I won’t lock you in a tower for that statement, solely because you were raised in America and the album was released long before you were born.”
“Cute. And which dinosaur produced it?” I snapped back, always unable to bite my tongue when I needed to.
His silence made me wonder if I had struck where I shouldn’t have. Maybe I had overstepped some music-related boundary on top of insulting him a few weeks ago. When all he’d done was act kind and forgiving, despite me being my typical bitchy self.
“I see.” He spoke before I could find a way to apologize, this time lacking cynicism, but his voice was as numb as his face. “You’re the only one who can use a joke to lighten things up.”
“Said the guy playing piano in the darkness of the castle’s dungeons.”
“Ironical, yes. The darkness and the dungeons don’t bother me. I like the peace and quiet down here.”
Perfect! It hadn’t even crossed my stupid mind to apologize for ruining his peace and quiet by bursting in here.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“Apology accepted.”
“I thought the dungeons were used for storage and Húsvættir sleeping grounds. Don’t they get woken by the piano? I heard it in many rooms before I found this one.”
“Húsvættir are nocturnal creatures, therefore they don’t sleep at this hour. Besides, they might not resemble the humans you’re used to seeing, but appearances can be deceptive. They like music just as much as every other person.”
“And music is meant to ease their enslavement?”
“We don’t endorse slavery. Housekeeping is in the nature of the Húsvættir; and they receive various forms of payment, both monetary and magical. I simply meant that they like it when I play.”
I remained silent.
There was still so much of this world I couldn’t understand, including the whole deal with house spirits. When I puked after my first missed evocation exercise, a house spirit manifested itself in broad daylight to clean my mess. It definitely hadn’t seemed fond of doing so, despite Dann and Maksim claiming the Húsvættir liked tending to a household.
