Hera thought a moment. "I agree. This Mussolini person does not care for his people and uses them for his own personal gain and power. He likes control, so I say we take away what he likes." She flicked her gaze to Freyja. "We can work with this." She plopped a small honey cake into her mouth, chewing slowly, then swallowed. "It will be done."
Freyja stood and smoothed her favorite gown. "Thank you. I will make sure my girls and their men complete their jobs as well. The Third Reich must not happen. Do you think you can keep the re-opening of the pantheon's portal a secret until we stop the war? We don't need anyone else interfering and messing things up."
"Leave that to me," Hestia said with a knowing grin. "As soon as you're gone, the portal will return as it was before...at least in looks. No one will get past my wards. They will only feel peace and have a strong desire to be at home."
Freyja grinned. "Ingenious." She repeated the spells then gave each woman a heartfelt hug goodbye. Moving away, she bowed her head. "Heimdall, bring me home." She felt the pull of the Bifrost as the unknown power pulled her from the Greco-Roman world and back to Asgard. Stepping off the bridge, she met the guardian at the back door, leading into the heart of the city. "Thank you, Heimdall."
"You were able to repower the oculus portal."
She stared into his eerie golden gaze. "Please don't say anything. The last thing Earth needs is for more people to twist events. There are already too many gods messing up things as it is."
"As you wish, Mistress Freyja."
She patted Heimdall's massive arm and left, hurrying toward her home where, she hoped, Natalya, Aleksandra, and Idunn waited for her. She rushed along the unused halls and hidden passageway between her and Thor's residence, built for him before his marriage to Sif. Now, her son only used them to come and go as he defended Asgard without his father interfering. She made the last turn and all but ran toward her quarters, a sense of urgency drawing her forward.
Bursting into her sitting room, she skidded to a stop. The slamming of the door behind her startled Idunn and Natalya, as they spun around and stared at her, eyes wide. Her best friend pressed trembling fingertips to her forehead then gave her a pissy glare. "Why in heaven's name did you have to scare us like that?"
Freyja willed her rapidly beating heart to calm down and her breathing to slow before answering. Waving a hand in the air, a golden goblet appeared. She wrapped her fingers around the slender stem and drank the usually soothing wine, but it had no effect.
She placed the empty cup on the small table next to her, but the strong sense of doom remained. A familiar tingling sensation crawled over her. Her newest Night Witch had just returned. "Natalya, Aleksandra is back and waiting in my bedroom. Please go get her." She waited for Natalya to leave the room before meeting Idunn's bright blue gaze. "Something is wrong, but I can't pinpoint what it is—"
"My Lady!" Alva yelled as she ran into the room. With her tail visible, the Huldra's uncontrolled anxiety filled the room. "There's a huge problem at the bunker!"
8
Asgard
Aleksandra stared outside, watching the fun-looking romp going on in the large yard beneath the window. Two of the creatures were small and reminded her of pictures she'd seen in books as a child. She frowned, trying to remember what they had been called but couldn't grasp the name. They were very small, maybe a foot tall. Their arms and legs looked too long for their bodies, which were colored a muddy green. Their ears were pointed, the tips curling over as if they couldn't stand up straight.
They chased a young boy and his dog around the yard, the child loudly laughing and squealing. The animal turned, and she realized it was still a puppy. Narrowing her gaze, she leaned forward, her forehead almost touching the wavy-glass pane, and studied the four-legged animal. "Wolf—you're a wolf!" She smiled at the puppy's antics as he yapped and ran through the child's legs, tripping him. They landed in a heap with the two creatures jumping on top of them.
"Imp!" she said after a few more minutes of trying to remember what the two small beings were called.
"What's an imp?"
Turning her head, she smiled at Natalya as she walked across the room toward her. Motioning with a tilt of her head to the window, she pointed. "Those are imps."
Natalya stared down at the yard with a frown. "I don't see anything." She laid her hand over Aleksandra's forehead. "You aren't running a temperature. Do you feel bad?"
Aleksandra studied the little boy, who had rolled out from under his dog and pushed the two imps from the wolf pup's back and shouted at them, but she couldn't make out the words. "But...Natalya, they're right there. Two imps, a little boy, maybe around six years old, and his wolf puppy." She turned from the scene to her friend, who was staring at her with a funny expression on her face. She took a quick step back and muttered, "Never mind."
"Freyja sent me to find you." She glanced at the yard then met Aleksandra's gaze, worry churning in the depths of her bi-colored eyes.
Aleksandra followed Natalya as she led her from the room and down the hall to the mirror room, pushing the strange incident from her mind and hoped she wasn't going crazy. Inside the room, she caught a glimpse of a beautiful woman talking to the two goddesses, her arms rising above her head and her tail... Aleksandra stared at the appendage flipping underneath the girl's skirt, reminding her of a snake. She shivered but forced her feet to remain planted on the stone floor.
"Her name is Alva. She's a Huldra," Natalya whispered in her ear.
"What's a Huldra?"
"Tell you later." Natalya pointed. "Look at the God's Glass."
Aleksandra's gaze landed on the mirror and realized it was the Wehrmacht's formation at Kursk. The scene flickered from the raging battle to three men. She recognized one man—Josef Stalin. She had only seen pictures of the two other men: England's prime minister, Winston Churchill, and the American president, Franklin Roosevelt. From their stiff bodies and closed expressions, she didn't have to hear them to understand the three of them carried on a stilted conversation. She was surprised, though, because the last thing she had heard was Stalin had refused to attend any of the Allied leaders' conferences. She wondered what had changed Stalin's mind. The leader of Russia never left Moscow, much less trusted anyone other than his closest confidants. Most Russians doubted he trusted even them.
"I wonder what they're discussing," Natalya said. "I'm usually quite good at reading lips, but the picture isn't clear enough for me to make out what they're saying."
"I don't think any of them want to be there. See how rigid they're holding themselves? Roosevelt and Churchill seem more relaxed when they talk to each other, but not with Stalin."
"Can you blame them? One minute, Stalin's siding with Germany and the next, he's become an Allied leader. I wouldn't trust him either."
"Natalya, what a horrible thing to say. Stalin is still our ruler."
Her friend shrugged. "Not really. In Russia, we're dead, so that technically makes Freyja and Idunn our leaders."
Aleksandra chewed on her bottom lip as she thought it through and found she couldn't disagree with Natalya's logic. "Huh. You're right. I hadn't thought of it like that."
"Not surprising. You just died." She grabbed Aleksandra's hand and pulled her into the room. "Come on, I want to find out what's going on. From the way Alva's acting and Freyja's expression, it can't be good." She stepped around in front of her and walked toward the three women. "Found her!"
With hesitant steps, Aleksandra followed, stopping at the corner of the sofa and wondering why the girl—the Huldra—was so upset, but she stopped talking. Her eyes were a rich seafoam green, but it was her long black lashes that drew Aleksandra's attention. They were white tipped, the same shade as her blonde braid, which hung over one shoulder.
"You have beautiful eyes," Aleksandra said before she could stop herself. When the Huldra's surprised gaze met hers, she felt her cheeks warm.
"Thank you."
Aleksandra felt her unease and smiled. "My
name is Aleksandra...and you are?"
The girl's head dropped. "Alva, my lady."
"Please, it's just Aleksandra."
"Alva, return to your post and continue to keep watch. Events are speeding up and you may have to step in until help arrives. Keep them safe," Freyja said.
"Yes, my lady." Alva whirled around and left the room in a hurry.
"What was that all about and," Natalya pointed to the glass above the fireplace, "when did Stalin meet with the Allied leaders?" She plopped onto the sofa and reached for one of the apples stacked in a marble bowl on the table in front of her. Taking a bite, the loud crunch filled the room. Her gaze moved from Idunn to Freyja, waiting for an answer.
"Alva's issue is just something we will need to deal with, most likely sooner rather than later," Freyja said with a quick glance at the Glass. She waved her hand in front of her, and the scene went dark. "Their meeting will happen in the future. Now, Natalya, have you anything to report?"
Natalya shook her head. "No. Vinnytsia is quiet. The entire time we were there, we saw no one."
"Good." Freyja turned her amethyst gaze on Aleksandra. "I see you succeeded in convincing Yamamoto to change Japan's direction and not go to war against Russia."
"I did, but at what cost?"
A sad smile appeared on Freyja's face. "On December 7th, 1941, the Japanese navy was supposed to have attacked Pearl Harbor, effectively pulling the United States fully into the war. This timeline was changed somehow, and I needed you to make it right again. America is now fighting on two fronts, just as Japan and Germany are, but the United States is a young and resourceful country. I have no doubt they will make the difference in this conflict, whether the European countries or Russia acknowledge that fact or not. To halt the emperor and Prime Minister Tojo, it was imperative the United States get involved in the Pacific. England's fleet isn't strong enough to defeat the Japanese much less stop them."
"If you say so, but I still feel a bit guilty." Aleksandra dropped her gaze to her clasped hands, her stomach churning with the overwhelming emotion. “Do you know why the history was changed?”
"I have an idea, but do not feel any guilt. It is done, young one. For now, I need you and Natalya to meet the men in Belarus, a small town called Babruska. Are you familiar with it?"
Aleksandra shook her head. "I'm not. Natalya?"
"I know of it but haven't been there before. It's in what's commonly known as White Russia or the Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic. The territory was supposed to go to Russia after Stalin signed the non-aggression pact with Hitler. Hitler, of course, lied."
"You must all be very careful while you're there. The German Army is everywhere, and you must not be caught," Idunn warned.
Freyja motioned for the two women to come closer. Pushing them to stand shoulder to shoulder, she muttered something under her breath and clapped her hands. The room swirled and faded away, growing smaller until it was nothing more than a small dot in the swirling darkness surrounding them.
My child, Freyja's voice whispered in Aleksandra's head. She stiffened in shock, biting back the cry lodged in her throat. You must believe in yourself, Aleksandra, no matter how difficult things seem. Trust in who you are.
Holding onto Natalya with a death grip, she squeezed her eyelids closed and waited for the dizzying sensation to cease. She didn't think she would ever get used to traveling through worlds. Her boots touched something solid, and she cracked open one eye. They stood near a two-story unpainted building in the middle of a forest. Off to one side of the main structure sat a small barn. Other than no paint, both structures looked well cared for.
"Evidently, the war hasn't been here yet," Natalya said. Her head turned to the building then whipped back again. "Look! It's Mikhail and Jakob." She took a step in the men's direction, but Aleksandra's arm, which was still wrapped around hers, held her back.
Aleksandra stared at the three men walking down the dirt road toward the house. "Oh my—Natalya, that's him. That's the man who saved my life at Kursk!"
"Which one are you talking about?"
"I recognize Mikhail from the picture you had taped to the instrument panel of your plane, but the man with the beard beside him—that's who saved me."
Natalya grinned. "That is Jakob Matthau. When I'm not with my husband, he is Mikhail's partner. He doesn't talk much, so I don't know a lot about him. I just know he's got some serious anger issues churning in that muscled chest of his."
"Natalya!" Aleksandra admonished, dropping her arm. "You should only have eyes for your husband. Mikhail is a very handsome man, who, I might add, has a very nice shape himself."
Natalya chuckled. "Of course, he does. Mikhail takes off his shirt, and my heart rate goes into overdrive." Her gaze narrowed. "The third man is new to me. I've never seen him before." With a wide grin, she hurried toward the men.
Mikhail glanced over at them and returned Natalya's happy smile, holding out his arms just as she leaped. He caught her in his embrace and swung her around with a kiss. Aleksandra watched the other two men as they witnessed the tender moment. The stranger shook his shaggy head with a grin and continued his trek toward the house. She couldn't read Jakob's expressionless face and wondered what he was thinking.
She stepped onto the road, and his gaze speared hers, his rifle almost to his shoulder. Shocked, she inhaled. Never before had she seen someone get a rifle into position quite so fast.
"You!" His low voice carried in the silence, his surprised gaze holding her in place. Striding toward her, she took a protective step back and almost tripped over a clump of grass growing at the edge of the road. He reached out and caught her before she fell, pulling her upright. "I think you owe me an explanation," he growled.
Shrugging out of his grip, she rubbed where his fingers had dug into her arms. "Excuse me? I don't owe you anything."
"You disappeared...literally! I had no idea where you'd gone or if you were safe."
She saw the worry in his hazel eyes and knew he was telling her the truth. He really had been concerned about her. An unfamiliar feeling washed through her. It had been a long time since someone had worried about her. She was a bit taken aback by the realization. She had worked hard to be strong and independent. The other pilots and navigators in her squadron recognized that desire and helped her achieve her goal. Yet, in a single moment, all her discipline had disappeared because she wanted someone to care and worry about her.
"I'm sorry. I had no control over leaving you like that."
He pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair then tugged the cap back on as Natalya and Mikhail joined them. "It's been driving me crazy. I need to understand what happened before I lose my mind."
Mikhail clapped Jakob on the back, turning him around, so he faced the house. "I promise we will explain everything after our meeting with Ilya. He has information we need, and he's risking his life telling us."
She saw Jakob's struggle, wanting to know how she'd disappeared and also wanting to hear what Ilya had to say. Finally, he exhaled and strode toward the house. Even with his fast pace, his boots were silent as he walked across the porch and into the darkened interior.
Letting Mikhail and Natalya go in front of her, she brought up the rear, needing time to think about her reaction to Jakob. She hadn't spent a lot of time with him, but she liked him. Something about the man drew her. What little she'd observed, he seemed haunted and quiet. She was used to silence. Her mother never talked much. Her father told stories but didn't waste time talking either. When he did, it was about fishing, and she and her mother would stop listening after a couple of words. Her brother hadn't cared and was more like their mother—or had been. She wished she knew whether he was alive or dead.
Stepping inside, she followed everyone to the round dining table. Ilya was already seated on the other side. Jakob sat on Ilya's left, leaving two chairs for Mikhail and Natalya. Aleksandra stared at them, wondering where she was supposed to sit.
She settled down beside him, her hands resting in her lap. "Thank you," she whispered, but he didn't reply.
Ilya clasped his hands on the table in front of him. "Mikhail?" The man's bushy, light-brown brows rose in a silent question.
Mikhail nodded. "It's okay, Ilya. The women are with us." He brought his hand out from under the table, his fingers clasping Natalya's. "This is my wife, Natalya. She is the reason the Red Army pushed the Germans out of Stalingrad. I am proud to fight by her side. Aleksandra is also brave and flew with the 588th Night Bomber squadron before she was...injured."
"She's one hell of a sniper, too," Jakob muttered. Aleksandra fought back a smile at the equal amounts of admiration and disgust in Jakob's tone.
"Fine then, I will tell you what I have learned," Ilya said. He waited until an elderly woman served them coffee then she walked outside. "My contact, who goes by the name of Taylor—"
Mikhail leaned forward with a pointed stare. "Agent Taylor?"
Ilya held Mikhail's steady gaze then nodded. "You know of him?"
"His boss, Agent Lucy, is a personal friend," Mikhail said.
"Taylor told me the English have cracked the Nazi codes and have begun building some kind of machine to decode them faster. It's scheduled to be up and operational by the end of this year. We will know the German army's movements before they do. Our biggest threat right now, though, is the power and influence Martin Bormann has over Hitler. His hands are in everything—as are Reinhard Heydrich's. We must come up with a plan to stop both men, or the Third Reich will be unstoppable."
"Who are these two men?" Aleksandra asked.
"Killers," Jakob answered.
"Bormann is Adolph Hitler's personal secretary and right-hand man. He has contacts all over Europe and is ruthless in getting what he wants. He is quite adept at using party infighting and shrewd manipulation of the führer's eccentricities and weaknesses to control the Nazi party. The other original members of Hitler's inner circle no longer have access to him. Bormann, along with Heydrich and Himmler, are behind the labor camps and ghettos throughout Europe. Bormann keeps himself surrounded at all times. Much like Hitler, no one can get to him," Ilya said.
Aleksandra Page 9
