The Viking Maiden Box Set

by Kelly N. Jane

  “How is Hagen?” With the threat removed, she could concentrate on everyone else. She also hoped it would deflect questions about what she’d done to the elf.

  She brought a shaky hand to her forehead. Clamping her mouth shut, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath while she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. When she opened her eyes, everyone was staring at her, but no one had told her how her brother fared.

  “Is he okay? Someone say something.”

  “He’s fine, no different from when you saw him last,” Selby answered. “We were just giving you a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ingrid shook her head and looked away into empty space. “Something happened that kept me from getting here to warn everyone.”

  “Let’s go in the back room, where we can talk in private,” Klaus said.

  Around the room, several people stood in small groups, trying to look like they weren’t talking about Ingrid’s powers or Jorg’s ears.

  “I want to help the wounded first,” Ingrid said.

  “I’ve been around the room. No one is so dire they can’t wait for a while,” Klaus assured her, putting his arm around her shoulders and steering her out of the room.

  Agnethe glared at a couple in the corner that was staring after the family as they all walked toward the back of the longhouse.

  Taking a seat in her parents’ room, Ingrid started to tell her story until she realized someone was missing.

  “Where’s Plintze? He should be in here.”

  Jorg stood up. “I’ll go get him.”

  Selby took the opportunity to fill Ingrid in on the rest of her journey to the village, which was uneventful except for the constant bickering with Jorg.

  “Don’t tell him, but . . .” She leaned back to peek out the door. “He was pretty good company, and it was actually kind of fun.”

  Ingrid smiled at her friend and felt a twinge of jealousy seep into her heart that she hadn’t been there.

  Outside the door, they could hear a whispered argument that wasn’t so whispered.

  “Plintze, come in here,” Ingrid called. “I want you here while I tell everyone what happened. You need to explain the parts when I wasn’t conscious.”

  A few grumbles and mutterings later, the dwarf peeked around the corner before taking a couple steps into the room. Jorg followed closely to be sure he didn’t change his mind. Ingrid noticed that he had pulled the tie out of his hair, letting it fall over his ears again before he’d returned to the room.

  Plintze nodded to the others, found a seat off to the side, and plopped down, folding his arms over his chest.

  “Comfortable?” Ingrid asked.

  “Humph,” he said, and then looked up at her, trying not to smile at her giggle.

  “I had to make sure you got it out before I start,” she winked at him, and he turned away in feigned annoyance. “Without Plintze’s help, I would not be here. I owe him my life.”

  Plintze fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable with the attention and the praise. “Get on with it. They don’t want to hear about me,” he said.

  “I would love to know more about you. Perhaps when Ingrid is finished with her tale, you can tell us yours,” Klaus said.

  “Nothing to tell, just listen to hers.”

  “Don’t worry, he grows on you,” Ingrid said with a small smile.

  “What happened out there? What kept you?” Jorg stood against the wall nearest to her; lines creased his forehead as he waited to hear her story.

  She sat silent for a minute, gathering her thoughts. Lavender hung in small bundles around the room, giving off a sweet scent that helped to calm her nerves while she played with her fingers, which rested in her lap.

  Not looking up at anyone, she told them about the dragon she encountered before meeting Plintze, and then again when she had to fight for her life. Briefly, she tried to describe her encounter with Jarrick, and who he was, but she still struggled with it herself.

  She also didn’t want to go into much detail about the vile darkness battling inside her head; her mother looked pale enough, when she snuck glances in her direction.

  Finished with her story, they all sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “You shouldn’t have been alone. I shouldn’t have let you be alone,” Jorg said in a quiet voice.

  “We both let her go off by herself,” Selby said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “Neither of you could have stopped me. I needed to go. I was supposed to make it here in time to warn everyone. No one would have gotten hurt if I’d have made it in time.”

  “Blah, blah, blah. It’s no one’s fault but the evil elf who’s pulling all the strings,” Plintze piped up. “He’s not done, either, so don’t waste too much time whining. We need to be figuring out what to do next.”

  The others looked stunned and a little offended, but Ingrid smiled. “Thank you, Plintze, for your keen wisdom. He’s right, though. We need a plan to defeat Jarrick. If he manages to break Odin and Freya’s spell before I figure out how to stop him, not only are we in danger, but so is every human in Midgard.”

  “One thing is certain—you are not going to meet him,” Jorg said.

  “I am. I gave my word, and I meant it.”

  “Ingrid, we can’t let that happen. It’s too dangerous,” Klaus said. “There will be no more discussion about that.”

  “Papa, I understand why you say that, but I’m not a little girl anymore. If I don’t go, it will be too dangerous for everyone, everywhere. Jarrick is not going to stop, he thinks he’s doing the right thing. He talks as though he is repairing an old mistake, like we will all appreciate what he does. I didn’t want to believe that I had anything to do with all this business about the spell and the healer, but I do. I am the healer, Papa. This is my destiny, for some reason only the gods know.”

  “Not only the gods; I know why as well. I had just hoped it wasn’t true,” Agnethe said. “I only wanted to keep you safe.”

  “What do you know? Who am I?”

  “For generations in my family, there has been an unbroken line of women chosen to carry on a great secret responsibility. From mother to daughter, the information has traveled without fail—until the line got to me. I was to carry on the tradition, but before I could learn how, or the extent of the duty, my mother died. My grandmother had been dead for many years and no one else knew the story.

  “As time went on, I forgot all about some old tradition told to me as a child. Until you were born, and I was visited by a strange woman.” Agnethe stopped and rubbed her forehead in small circles with both hands. Klaus moved to her, taking a seat at her side.

  Ingrid looked out the side of her eyes toward Jorg, hoping he would sit next to her that way. Her hands were trembling, and her stomach was in knots.

  Selby jumped up from her spot and landed quickly next to Ingrid. “He can sit with you later. It’s my turn right now,” she whispered.

  As usual, Selby’s whispers traveled throughout the room. Ingrid grinned at Jorg’s responding snort, and even Plintze gave an amused grunt.

  “Who was the woman, Mama?” Ingrid had a suspicion she’d already met her, in the woods outside of Jorvik.

  “Her name is Eir. She is a goddess as well as a norn and valkyrie. It is her job to train the chosen daughter of each generation so they are prepared in case they are the destined one. You know how I have feelings about future events, sometimes?”

  Ingrid nodded to her mother.

  “Because of that, Eir believed that the prophesied daughter of our heritage was closer than ever to appearing. I couldn’t imagine my sweet little baby carrying that big of a burden. So I forbade her to train you.” Agnethe leaned closer to Klaus as pain lined her face.

  “Why us? How is our family lineage connected?” Ingrid asked.

  Freya has two daughters. One left Asgard, fell in love, and married a human man. She hid herself among the mortal realm, and lived a happy life as a wife and mother. Hoping to draw her
back to Asgard, Freya bound the spell to her daughter’s bloodline. It didn’t work though because Gersemi never went back. She’s lived here among the humans she loves so much, waiting for the promised descendant to be born.”

  “Gersemi. I thought you might say her name was Hnossa,” Ingrid said. Selby squeezed her hand when she felt Ingrid’s breathing quicken.

  “No, but Hnossa is her sister,” Agnethe said. “Why would you think that?”

  “I’ve been to Asgard.”

  “You have? When?” Selby looked at her with a little flash of anger. Jorg pulled away from the wall and looked at her with the same expression.

  “I felt like I was going crazy and didn’t want to believe what was happening, so I didn’t tell you. I was also warned not to. But remember the night that I went for a walk after Hagen got hurt, and I didn’t make it back until morning?”

  “How could I forget, that’s when I saw the elves by myself while lover boy went to find you.”

  Ingrid blushed as she glanced quickly at Jorg and saw his grin at the memory. “I was pulled into Asgard through a shining doorway, and met on the other side by Hnossa. She took me to her home and explained the story of the spell, but her version was a little different. It was all so confusing. I was overwhelmed with the beauty—everything sparkled from gold and jewels and smelled like flowers and sweets. There were the most delicious treats, called cookies,” Ingrid sighed. “I accepted everything she told me. She warned me not to tell anyone.”

  “She used a portal because she didn’t want Heimdall to know,” Plintze said. Ingrid saw her mother flinch at his gravelly voice, forgetting that he sat in the corner. “I’d bet every piece of dwarf gold that she is working with Jarrick.”

  “I think so, too. She told me that the elves needed to restore the balance of magic between Asgard and Vanaheim. That’s what Jarrick is trying to do. Both of them told me they were trying to find me before anyone could taint my understanding.”

  “Another reason you should not go offering yourself up to the Dark Elf himself,” Jorg said.

  Ignoring him, Ingrid turned toward her mother. “You said you met Eir before, that she came to you when I was born.”

  Agnethe nodded. “As you grew, you were such a happy child, sweet and loving toward everyone. And so small and fragile. I grew to believe she was just some crazy völva who’d made a mistake.” Agnethe stopped and swallowed hard; a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Until I tried to save my sister,” Ingrid whispered.

  Both Klaus and Agnethe snapped their eyes toward Ingrid and stared. “I didn’t think you remembered that,” her father said.

  “I didn’t until I healed that boy on the docks before we left for Jorvik. I had a vision of her and how I didn’t help her. Just like how I couldn’t help Hagen.”

  “Her injuries were so severe, and you were only a child. The way you tried though . . . I knew that what Eir had told me was true. I convinced your father to help me keep it from you. When your sister, Merin, died, you were so distraught that you blocked the memories, and we did our best to help them stay hidden. I’m sorry, Ingrid. Maybe if we’d been honest with you, if we hadn’t tried to hide who you are, you’d be more prepared for all of this now.” Agnethe covered her face with both hands, tears falling freely into her lap. Klaus kneeled down and cradled his wife in his arms while Ingrid watched the anguish they shared.

  They deserve to feel bad. Closing her eyes tight, she pushed against the intrusive anger. I will not let you win, Jarrick. Frustrated and tense, she jumped when a hand touched her shoulder.

  Jorg crouched down in front of her and took her hands between his. He held her gaze. “We will fight him together.”

  Biting her lip, she nodded, relishing in his touch. “Will I ever be able to hear you?”

  He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “I think it’s better that you can’t.”

  She shook her head and looked down at their hands. Jorg pulled one to his lips and kissed her knuckles. A throat cleared across the room, but they ignored it.

  “Alright, already,” Selby said, still sitting next to Ingrid.

  Without looking at Selby, Jorg said, “You’ll get used to it.”

  Selby groaned and shook her head.

  “Maybe she will, but for now I’d like to deal with the issue at hand. We can talk later, Jorg,” Klaus said with a raised brow, a smirk pulling at his lips. Ingrid felt a small surge of heat in her cheeks.

  Jorg winked at her then stood and turned to Klaus. “I look forward to it.”

  Ingrid stood and walked across the room to her parents. “I don’t know if I could have ever been prepared enough for all of this. I wish I’d have known, but it’s okay; I know now. Let’s focus on what happens next, and not worry about anything else.”

  Agnethe stood and pulled Ingrid close to her. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mama.” Ingrid squeezed her mother and then pulled away to hug her father. “Before we do or say anything more, I’d like to see Hagen.”

  Ingrid followed her parents to another room, where they found Helka sitting on the edge of Hagen’s bed, holding his hand and talking quietly to him. Selby hesitated at the door, but she walked in and leaned against the wall. Standing next to Helka, Ingrid watched as Hagen’s chest moved up and down with slow, methodical predictability. The rest of his body lay motionless.

  Anger boiled up again within Ingrid at the sight of her brother, and she did her best to force it out of her voice as she spoke. “May I stand closer, please, Helka?”

  Helka moved out of her way without a word.

  Aware of all the hopeful eyes staring at her, Ingrid closed her eyes and tried to settle her nerves. I can do this.

  Opening her eyes, she saw only Hagen, letting all other sights and sounds fade away. Unwrapping the annoying linen strip from her left arm, exposing her jagged scar, then pulling the tattered gauntlet from her right, she let each slip to the floor. Slowing her breathing to match the rhythm of Hagen’s, she felt a small tingle bloom in her chest. Warmth spread from her middle outward through her body, into her arms and down into her hands. Rolling her lip between her teeth, she hovered her hands over his chest, bringing them down slowly until she touched him.

  Heat flowed through her arms, into her hands, and she held steady, closing her eyes to concentrate. A feeling of weightlessness came over her, and she could see a string of light flowing into Hagen’s chest, seeking out his pain. Ingrid watched as it moved like hair underwater, floating along in a graceful ribbon until it reached his mind. Images flashed one after the other; some she recognized, most she didn’t. Being in water, a man sitting next to a tree, walking through the moors and a flash of light. At the same time, a jolt shot through Ingrid’s hands so strong she winced, but she held firm against his chest until the sensation was gone.

  Opening her eyes again, she felt dizzy and a little disoriented. The room went black for a several seconds and she leaned on her brother until she revived and focused on his face.

  Hagen didn’t look any different.

  Disappointed, confused, and frustrated, she pulled her hands off his chest, and clenched them in fists at her sides. As she was about to turn away, his fingers twitched.

  Snatching his hand in hers, she held her breath. Under his eyelids, she could see his eyes moving back and forth.

  “Hagen, can you hear me? Wake up now. Open your eyes,” she commanded.

  His throat bobbed as he swallowed, then he made a noise.

  Squeezing his fingers, Ingrid leaned in and put her other hand on his forehead.

  Fluttering, his eyes worked their way open, and Ingrid started to laugh and cry at the same time.

  “Hi,” he croaked. His voice sounded raspy from disuse but it was as music to her ears.

  She leaned down and put her head on his chest, letting her tears wet his shirt. She could hear the others crying. A heavy, clumsy hand slid onto her head, and she turned her face to see Hagen trying to smile at her
.

  Shifting Hagen’s hand to her cheek, she leaned into it and breathed in the sweet smell of dirt and sweat before placing a kiss on his palm.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. He smiled.

  Aware of the others watching, she rose and moved out of the way. Exhaling long and slow, she turned and saw Selby wrapped in Jorg’s arms. Irrational anger flooded through her, replacing all her joy in less than a heartbeat.

  Jorg raised his hand in an attempt to reassure her, but she pressed her lips together and glared at him. Stop touching her.

  Tapping Selby on the shoulder to get her attention, he moved her away from him and stepped closer to Ingrid. Ingrid, for her part, was staring at the floor, trying to steady herself; her eyes roved over the surface without seeing anything.

  “Ingrid.” Jorg said her name quiet and gentle while lifting her chin to look up at him. “What is it?”

  Her chin wobbled against his fingers. “I get so angry so fast. I have to get him out of my head.” Tears slipped through her lashes and Jorg pulled her in tight.

  Slipping her arms around his waist, she held onto him as she fought to regain control of her emotions. After several minutes, neither of them had made any attempts to pull away, but she knew they should.

  Without releasing her grip, she craned her neck to look up at him, smiling when he stroked her hair.

  “Better?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault—although I don’t mind this part at all.” His eyes traveled to her mouth and back to her eyes with a lazy grin on his face.

  Smiling at him, she raised an eyebrow, daring him to finish his thought, but he looked over her head and tensed. Ingrid squished her eyes shut and lowered her face into Jorg’s chest.

  “I think it’s a good time for us to have that talk,” her father said behind her.

  Unwrapping her arms from his waist and placing her hands at her sides, Jorg then moved his hands to her arms and rubbed them as he gently pushed further away from her. Following her father out of the room, he turned and smiled at her before walking through the door.