She stepped closer and kicked at a clump of grass, but kept her eyes downcast.
“Why’d you stop?” Jorg asked.
“At this pace, we’ll never make it to the village in time to warn them. I’m going ahead now. If I run most of the way, I might make it by nightfall.”
“Ingrid, we talked about this last night. You need to stay with us,” Jorg said and tightened his lips into a white line. “And it is still more than a one-day walk—even at a jog, which you can’t keep up the whole time. The others have at least a day on us, anyway.”
Selby stepped away from the litter and looked between them for a couple seconds. “I don’t know what happened last night,” she stared hard at Ingrid with a slight grin teasing her lips, “but I think I agree with Bossy. You shouldn’t take off on your own. We’re safer together.”
Jorg snorted and rolled his eyes before he leveled them at Ingrid again.
“I remember what you said last night. All of it.” She met Jorg’s eyes and didn’t flinch as he inhaled a deep breath to keep his calm. “I might not make it in time, but I have to try. Neither of you can go, because as we all know, you’re the only ones who can carry Hagen. I’m not asking either of you—I’m offering you the opportunity to support me before I leave.”
“Wow.” Selby drew out the word while giving Ingrid a smile.
Ingrid smiled back and knew she had her friend’s support. Looking back at Jorg, she raised an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Closing his eyes, he growled in what Ingrid recognized as frustration. Despite his emotional state, she liked the deep timbre of his voice when he made that sound.
He walked over to Ingrid in measured strides and stood within her space. He took two deep breaths, then put his hand behind her head. Tingles shot throughout her body as he leaned toward her and kissed her cheek near the corner of her mouth. A tiny squeak escaped her throat.
“Be careful. I expect to find you well when we arrive home,” he whispered before pulling away.
Ingrid blinked several times before answering. Jorg’s warm breath on her face flustered her thinking. “Uh-huh, I will.”
Jorg then walked over to Hagen. “I’ll pull for a while,” he said to Selby without looking at her. He readied the poles in his hands and looked blankly at Ingrid. “Go then, if you’re going. Use the daylight, and get as far as you can.” His voice was cool, unwavering.
“Can we call this official now, or are we still going to pretend nothing is going on between you two? Because that looked a lot like something just now,” Selby said, bouncing her head and waving a finger between the two of them.
Ingrid could see Jorg’s profile as he stared straight ahead.
I know you’re mad. His eyebrow rose slightly, and he pulled in a deep breath through his nose. Okay, really mad, but I can do this.
Ingrid didn’t know how he could hear her thoughts, but she wanted to say it so he would know it was just for him.
“I’m not super happy about being left with a fussy, lovesick puppy, but hurry home.” Selby walked up to Ingrid and gave her a big hug.
“Try to be nice,” Ingrid whispered into her ear.
“What? I’m always nice. Now go.” Selby turned Ingrid around and slapped her behind to move her forward.
Ingrid shook her head and peeked once more at Jorg. He was looking off to his right at nothing.
I’ll be okay.
She wasn’t sure if she was convincing Jorg or herself, and she trotted away at a fast pace before she could think too much more about it.
After running for a couple of hours and only taking small amounts of time to walk and catch her breath, Ingrid’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that she needed to take a real break. Sitting against the base of an ash tree, she pulled a hard biscuit from her apron, and nibbled on it. There hadn’t been any fresh water along the way to fill her flask, and it was running low. She took small sips to conserve the rest, and distracted herself by thinking about how Jorg could hear her thoughts, and musing how long he’d been able to.
A squirrel skittered down the trunk of a neighboring tree and stopped, frozen except for the twitching of its tail every few seconds.
“How do you think he does it? Do squirrels read each other’s minds?” She smiled at the rodent, enjoying its peaceful companionship while she rested. “I don’t think he’s always been able to do it. I mean, he’s always been nicer to me than Hagen’s other friends, but he’s never paid any attention to me. No, I think it’s just been since we left home. Of course, I don’t know for sure. Maybe it’s part of his heritage, and he can read everyone’s thoughts? If that’s true, he won’t like being alone with Selby.”
The squirrel ran farther up the trunk, then stopped again, clinging to the bark as it faced the ground. Dark, unblinking eyes watched Ingrid—or, more likely, the biscuit in her hand. She smiled at the little creature. “How do you stay so still upside down like that?” Ingrid twisted her head this way and that at the squirrel, garnering her a couple quick tail flicks in response. “Don’t worry, I’ll share a bite with you, but you have to stay and keep me company. Deal?”
Breaking off a small piece of the hard bread, she tossed it toward the base of the squirrel’s tree. After a few minutes, it darted down, picked up the crumb, then scurried back up the trunk to sit on the first branch and stuff its little jaws.
“If you like that, you should have tasted the cookie I had in Asgard; you would faint and fall out of that tree from bliss. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious.”
Sitting with her knees pulled up, she closed her eyes for a minute and tried to remember as many details from her time with Hnossa as she could: the gem-like blue of the sky, the sun warming her skin, the sweet fragrance of lavender, lilies, and lemon, and the slight breeze that made the leaves twinkle.
With a warning screech, the squirrel zipped away in a flash, which startled Ingrid out of her respite. On alert, she pulled her feet under her but stayed in a crouched position as she looked around for the danger.
Nothing moved except the grasses, swaying in the distance. From behind her, a shadow passed overhead, darkening the sky momentarily. Then a noise pushed Ingrid’s heart to beat so hard she could feel it against the fabric of her tunic.
It was like the flap of a giant eagle’s wings, only these carried the weight of thunder as they snapped.
Too afraid to look up, she slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream wanting to escape, and watched the shadow move away from the trees and onto the grasses beyond. Oh, Freya, please don’t let this be real.
An ear-piercing screech shook the ground under her and confirmed her fears.
High above the ground, but low enough to see in full, was the biggest beast she’d ever seen. The hunting party had described the dragon they’d witnessed, but it didn’t compare to the vision before her eyes.
Larger than a horse and cart, the dragon glided through the sky with an eerie grace, occasionally flapping its wings before floating along on the current. Its huge head swept slowly back and forth as it surveyed the ground. Scales like shards of glass flashed colors that changed from blood red to dark blue to deep purple. It was terrifying and beautiful at the same time. Its wings looked delicate, as they spread out against the overcast light. Thin sheets of red between dark outlines of bones, but the vicious claws at their points stole their innocence. The dragon’s massive body undulated side to side as it swam through the air, its long tail acting like a rudder as it steered the beast in a lazy circle. Ingrid caught the glint of light that flashed off the sharp spikes on the end of its tail.
Pressing her back into the rough bark, Ingrid held her breath and sat as still as possible, every muscle tensed and ready to flee, but she had nowhere to run. The small clump of trees she sat under comprised of three or four midsize ash and birch trees and several gorse bushes; a short distance away from the inadequate shelter were only tall grasses and peat bogs. In truth, she could crouch and hide among th
e grasses better than someone taller, but it wouldn’t protect her from being spotted from overhead. Additionally, the dragon would spy her if she tried to run, so her best bet was to keep herself as small as possible and wait.
Farther away, the dragon kept making wide, serpentine movements as it hunted. Criss-crossing in overlapping patterns, Ingrid thought it odd it would hunt in such a methodical manner. Most of the beasts she was familiar with either wandered around until they smelled the musky scent of their prey, or they followed a routine route through their territory, catching whatever crossed their path.
As she watched, the dragon spread its wings, and made a wide, sweeping arc. Then, with a giant thrust that cracked through the sky like thunder, it glided straight toward Ingrid.
Quick, shallow breaths pushed her chest in and out rapidly, and she slammed her eyes shut, squeezing her arms tighter around her legs to hold as still as possible. Swallowing the cries that wanted to tear from her throat, Ingrid willed her racing heart to slow, and worked to control her breathing, hoping that the sweat on her brow would not create a strong enough scent to draw the beast now bearing down on her position.
Calm down, breathe, it will pass by.
The sun was behind the monster, so the dragon’s shadow reached Ingrid first, coating her in another layer of darkness. Unable to close her eyes anymore, she watched the hunter approach—unhurried, scanning, the spiky whiskers on its muzzle wavering in the breeze of its flight.
It wasn’t hunting, it was searching—Ingrid realized with a start.
Its eyes were roaming the ground for something specific, or someone. Another flash of tremors rippled through her body.
The dragon flew over her, then circled back. The air was growing warm from the heat radiating off the massive creature. It scanned her hiding place before continuing past her. Sweat dripped off Ingrid’s chin onto her arm, but she didn’t dare move to wipe her face.
Frozen in place, she lost track of how long it had been since the dragon’s last pass. Unwilling to look for it and risk being seen, she stayed put. A scratching noise came from the tree near her. Looking over with only her eyes, she spotted the squirrel once again clinging to the trunk, staring at her with its big brown eyes, and twitching its tail as if nothing unusual had occurred.
Ingrid let out a slow breath and unfurled her legs, wincing at the tingles as blood flowed through them again.
“I suppose you wouldn’t be back if danger still lurked in the sky, would you?”
In her hand, she still held the biscuit she’d been nibbling on, though it was broken and crumbling from being held so tightly. She tossed several little pieces toward the squirrel.
“Here you go. I’ve lost my appetite, but I’m glad you still have yours.”
Pushing herself to stand, she tucked away the larger chunks of the remaining hard bread for later and brushed the crumbs off her hands. Not wanting to leave the protection of her cover, but needing to continue the journey to her village, she stepped out of the shadows with slow, cautious movements. The squirrel sat on its high branch, pushing biscuit pieces into its cheeks. She smiled at it, then took a deep breath, rolled her neck from shoulder to shoulder, and jogged into the tall grasses.
Late afternoon shadows stretched long, telling Ingrid she should keep her eyes open for a spot to rest for the night. Making it to the village before morning looked unlikely; the exhaustion of running for so long was catching up to her. She’d sleep for a few hours, and then head out again.
“Ouch! Oh . . . arrrgh!” she growled out as she stubbed her foot on yet another rock and nearly fell.
Covered in burrs and mud splatters, she was irritable and feeling sorry for herself. A light drizzle started, and she closed her eyes, listening to the patter of the rain as it landed against the damp soil. When she opened her eyes again, she saw two grouse scurry out from under a bush near her and dive under another one several feet away.
“Find shelter—maybe that will help my mood,” she said to the wind.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Ingrid spun around at the harsh, gravelly voice.
A man no more than three feet tall stood in front of her. A hat was pulled low on his brow, and it flopped over the back of his head so she couldn’t see his hair. Plenty grew on his face though; he had huge, bushy eyebrows and a beard that sprawled down to his waist. Beady, dark eyes next to a large, bulbous nose were the only features visible. Some kind of pack rested on his back, and he held a large walking stick.
Ingrid narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ve been through a lot today, and I’m tired. I don’t think you want to mess with me right now.”
“Mess with you? I’ve got no use for a daft human standing out in the rain. You’re in my way, and the sooner I put you behind me, the better.” He walked toward her, clearly intent on pushing her aside.
She held out her hands. “Wait.”
“Why?” He glared at her and moved his stick into a more guarded position.
Ingrid took a breath to calm herself. “Do you have shelter nearby? I would like to get out of the rain for a while before I continue on my way.”
“Yes and no.”
“What does that mean? Do you have shelter or don’t you?”
“I do, but you aren’t invited. There wouldn’t be anything in it for me.”
“What? Have you not heard of hospitality? A kindness just for the sake of kindness? Maybe you should try it.”
“Kindness doesn’t get you anywhere in life. Do you have anything you can offer me in trade?”
Ingrid thought about what she had with her: some dried fish, hard biscuits . . . nothing of any value. Then she remembered that, in the bottom of her pack, she had stashed something she’d picked up off the ground back in the burned village.
That feels like months ago. This journey will never end!
Tamping down her growing prickliness, she removed the small pack from her back and dug through it.
“I have this.”
She reached out her hand and opened it to reveal a golden brooch. It bore an intricate filigree pattern, but the clasp was missing. She’d thought it would be a nice keepsake to remember those who had been lost, but it seemed better as a bargaining tool, under the current circumstances.
The man’s eyes opened wide as he stared at her hand. Stepping closer, he reached up to take the object, but she closed her fingers and pulled back her hand.
“Show me your shelter first.”
“I didn’t agree that I’d bargain.”
“Fine. If you don’t want my gold, I’ll continue on.” She turned her back on him and started walking.
“Don’t be so hasty. I’ll take it. For one night’s lodging and no more—I’ll not give you anything to eat. You’re too big, and would eat everything I have stored, most like.”
Ingrid stopped walking and turned to him with a neutral expression. “Deal, but you have to provide me with something warm to drink and a dry blanket.”
“Fine, but let me hold the gold now.”
“No, you’ll get it when you uphold your end of the bargain.”
“You are bossy and you stink. Follow me.”
Barging past her, he walked faster in his limping gait than she would have expected. She smiled to herself at her bargaining skills. Part of her knew that to trust this little man was a bad idea, and to make a deal with him was worse. Everything as it was, however, she accepted her choices.
“How much farther?” Ingrid wasn’t sure, but she thought she’d seen the same boulder with a jagged crack through it more than once. Is he trying to get me lost? If he is, he won’t like how I use that stick he’s holding. She rubbed her temples, trying to put aside her bad temper.
“Not far.”
“A man of many words.”
He turned around so fast she almost bumped into him before she could stop herself. Gawking at him, she waited for him to explain.
“I’m not a man! Don’t insult me again, or the deal is off.” He tu
rned and resumed walking.
Ingrid watched the not-a-man waddle as she considered this. He wore homespun pants and tunic with a leather belt and leather shoes. Nothing about him screamed ‘Other Realm’. Maybe his attitude, but there were a lot of men in Ingrid’s village with equally poor conversation skills.
“What are you, then?”
“Humph."
“Helpful. Listen, I don’t know what you are. I would like to know, but if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But I’m not in the mood for games. How much farther? It seems like you’re walking in circles.”
“You haven’t asked me my name.”
Ingrid thought for a minute, and a prickle of warning pierced her, remembering the trolls.
“I don’t want to know your name until I know what you are. You never asked me my name, either.”
“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.”
“Are you going to answer my question?” Ingrid chose to ignore his comment until later, when she was somewhere warm and dry.
“Just over that rise.”
“Thank you. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
“No wonder you travel alone. You’re prickly.”
“Not usually, but like I said, it’s been a long day. Besides, you’re traveling alone, too. And I don’t think your attitude is temporary.”
“Humph.”
Ingrid shook her head and kept following the whatever-he-was, noticing that their path took a different slant, and they didn’t pass the same boulder again after their talk. As they made it over the small rise, she looked out over the land. The ground sloped away into a dale, and the shrubs became denser. Gorse bushes bloomed in their happy yellow coats, giving off their woody smells. Any other time, Ingrid would have smiled to see them. Now, however, she only saw too many places to hide, get caught in undergrowth or stuck with no way out. What she didn’t see was any kind of dwelling.
“I thought you said it was just over this rise? I don’t see any house or hut or whatever you might live in.”
“That’s because you can’t. I don’t go around inviting snivelly little humans into my home on a regular basis.”
The Viking Maiden Box Set Page 18
