The Viking Maiden Box Set

by Kelly N. Jane

  Ingrid stared at her. A scowl crossed her face as she shook her head. “You don’t trust me. You don’t think I’m strong enough to handle it.” She moved backward with small, hesitant steps.

  “I trust you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” Selby said.

  “Ingrid, we all trust you, we’re just worried for you,” Jorg said from behind her.

  She heard Plintze sigh as she stared at the floor, bile rising to the back of her throat as the pressure built inside her head. Her dark companion pulsed at the friction between them, and the sensation at the base of her skull clouded her vision.

  “No, you don’t trust me. How can you? I don’t blame you. I’m not capable of doing anything. We’ve seen that over and over. Fragile Ingrid—Meyla, the little bird. But not when I was in there. That magic is supposed to be mine. It’s the only way I’ll grow strong enough.”

  “Stop and remember what happened in there. Ingrid, please—”

  “No, you can’t understand. Not like the rest of us,” Ingrid yelled, cutting off Selby’s words.

  They held each other’s gaze in uncomfortable silence before Selby spoke, her voice low and thick as she nodded. “Yes, that’s right. How can I understand anything about you? I’m just a regular human, plodding along after the rest of you like a dumb hound.” Selby pulled her mouth tight, and silver lined her eyes as she spun and strode toward the meal room.

  7

  No one spoke, and the surrounding air grew thick and heavy, pressing on Ingrid like a shield wall. Selby didn’t deserve that. Her head throbbed, and she rubbed her temples. She’s wrong, though. I need that magic, or I’ll never finish this.

  “Ingrid.” Jorg broke into her thoughts. “What happened in that room—what it did to you—it’s a magic that none of us understand how to wield. Not me, and even Plintze wasn’t affected like you.” He’d taken small, slow steps toward her while he spoke. He was now within touching distance, but he didn’t reach out for her. “Without doubt, the Norns have fated you with extraordinary gifts. That means those of us who care for you need to guard you.”

  Ingrid rolled her eyes and moved to turn away from him, but Jorg grabbed her wrist. “Selby loves you. She has a house full of sisters, yet she sticks by your side.” Relaxing into his touch, Ingrid shifted closer to him. “You did something, in that room . . . and it scared all of us. Selby most of all, maybe. Go talk to her. Plintze and I will go look for some reasonably dry wood and get a fire going to warm this place.”

  “What? I’ll not go out in that deluge.” Plintze crossed his arms over his chest where he sat on a stool in the corner and made a growling noise.

  Jorg raised a brow at the dwarf and gave a sharp nod toward the door. Plintze grumbled and hopped to the floor, muttering the whole time as he stomped out into the rain.

  Once the room was empty, Ingrid absorbed the silence. It frustrated her that she couldn’t remember the words from the books or handle the magic she’d experienced. But that was no excuse to attack her friends. With a sigh, she turned and went to search for Selby.

  “I’m sorry.” The words flew out as soon as Ingrid saw the way her normally stalwart friend sat with her shoulders slumped on one of the stools. Selby rested in front of the large table, still a mess from their meal.

  “You were right.” Selby’s head hung forward and she picked at the broken skin on her thumbs without looking up.

  Ingrid sat down on a stool next to her. “No, I wasn’t. No one has ever supported me more than you. I wouldn’t be able to even hold a weapon if it wasn’t for your training.” Ingrid lifted one of her hands and looked at the leather gauntlet that covered it. “You looked past all of this and treated me like I was normal.”

  “I never understood why it was an issue. You had cold hands, so what? Why did everybody worry about it?” She chuckled under her breath. “But, it is a big thing. It’s because you’re missing part of yourself. You’re special, Ingrid. At least that part I’ve always known.”

  Ingrid shrugged. “I’m just me.”

  Selby snorted. “And Plintze is just a dwarf, Jorg is just half-elf, and I’m just a regular human.”

  “I’m human, too. I didn’t choose this.” Ingrid reached over and took Selby’s hand. “Something inside of me has awoken and now I need it. It scares me sometimes.”

  “I’m sure it does, but I also believe that you can handle it. You’ve always been aware that you were meant for something great . . . I recognized it, too.” She flashed a shy smile toward Ingrid and sighed. “So now what?”

  “Plintze and Jorg are going to build a fire, and I think we’ll stay down here for the night and decide what to do in the morning.”

  “You’re sure no one will come here looking for that woman?”

  Ingrid huffed and shook her head slowly. “I don’t think anyone else lived here with her, but am I sure? I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

  Plintze and Jorg’s voices carried to the girls as they began building a fire in the other room. Selby leaned over and pulled Ingrid into a tight hug.

  The fading embers of the fire glowed against the walls as a chill crept back over the quiet room. Ingrid lay staring at the dark ceiling, her mind whirling through too many thoughts: Jorg’s arm that rested over her stomach, the scent of apples and fresh bread that constantly wafted through the air, and the restless rumble in her gut that wanted to pull her back up the stairs.

  Why shouldn’t she go back and look around again? The others were over exaggerating the effects it had on her. Surely, she could handle it if she concentrated and gave it more time. It was probably why the goddess hadn’t shown herself yet. Ingrid needed to figure some things out on her own first.

  Jorg shifted and rolled over, his arm slipping away. Selby’s snores created a comforting blanket against the rumble of the storm outside. The flood of indecision was coursing through Ingrid.

  She looked sidelong at Jorg and held her breath. If she was going to go, it needed to be right then. Decision made, she double checked that she could slip away unnoticed, then rolled to the floor and crawled on hands and knees toward the hall.

  A vague curiosity rose to mind that she hadn’t heard Plintze’s snores, but she brushed it away and hurried onward. After she’d made it far enough away, she rose to her feet and padded quickly up the stairs.

  The door loomed before her, and she hesitated once more. Was she doing the right thing? Should she really go in? Yes. This was her life, and she was the only one who could find the answers she needed.

  The handle felt warm in her moist hand as she turned it. Once again, the musty smells hit her in the face. There was no turning back.

  The box Ingrid had fallen against earlier was perched over the edge of the table. She pushed it back to a safer position, and her fingers jolted with electricity. It was as if she couldn’t lift her hand away, but she didn’t want to anyway.

  Biting her lip, she pushed open the lid of the box. Runes carved onto small stones that fit into Ingrid’s palm filled the interior. Each had a separate symbol.

  Ingrid had never been allowed near any of the travelers who occasionally visited the village and would claim to do rune castings to tell the future. Her parents always offered them a night’s hospitality, as was required of the village leaders, but then they would insist the visitors continue on their way early the following day.

  Her hand hovered over the stones until finally, she scooped up two. They warmed in her hand, or her hand warmed around them, she wasn’t sure. The symbols were hidden so she used a finger on her opposite hand to turn over the first stone. Dagaz. The symbol for home.

  How do I know this?

  With a tremble, she flipped over the second stone. Thurisaz. Protection. Ingrid sucked in and held her breath. It was the reason for her journey—to protect her home and loved ones—and the runes confirmed it.

  As she contemplated choosing a third stone, the air thickened and pressed in around her. Afraid to lose the stones, she clutched them
tight in her fist, while she gripped the table’s edge with her other hand. White knuckles kept her upright as her vision faded.

  A heartbeat later, she blinked against the waning brightness of twilight, yet she still felt the smooth edge of the table under her fingers. All around her, men yelled and swords clanged. Dust clouds swirled among the throng of feet busy at battle.

  What is this? How can this be?

  A warrior charged straight toward Ingrid, and she dodged sideways to avoid the blow of a raised sword. The man still swung with a grunt and met the edge of an answering blade from a man just behind Ingrid’s shoulder.

  It was as if they didn’t acknowledge she was there. Was she there? No. It was a vision. Past, present, or future?

  Quickly she looked around, and a weight lifted from her shoulders when she identified that it wasn’t her home village. It was a large open area surrounded by a palisade.

  A tingle skittered down Ingrid’s spine, and the little hairs on her neck stood on end. The disturbance came from somewhere behind her. Moving slowly, she slid her eyes as far over as she could and let her neck follow until she saw what it was.

  In the middle of the melee stood a tall figure dressed in a dark leather sleeveless tunic with black trousers. Long blond hair hung straight down his back with tall pointed ears jutting through. As if caught in a net, Ingrid stared, unable to move.

  The male lowered his arms and ignored the battle raging around him. Jarrick. She’d never seen him before, but she knew it was him. The dark elf smiled at her. Not toward her, but at her.

  Ingrid’s chest heaved. Suddenly, she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. How could he see her when she wasn’t really there? Her knees wobbled, and her hands gripped the table harder to keep herself standing. She was stuck between the real world of the workroom and the vision before her.

  A tremendous boom cracked through the skies. She wasn’t sure if it was in the real world or within the vision. A scream rang through her ears.

  Everything went dark again. A heavy weight against her chest burned. The scream persisted as the murky darkness of the workroom reappeared in her view. She realized it was her own voice a heartbeat before strong arms grabbed her shoulders. Spun around, she came face to face with the wide, wild eyes of Jorg.

  8

  Ingrid sagged against the weight of Jorg’s hands around her arms as her knees buckled. Silence surrounded them as he pulled her close and hurried them both out of the dark workroom.

  With the door shut behind them, he kept one hand firmly on Ingrid while he righted one of the chairs in the hallway. His arms encircled her in a vice-like grip, but his body trembled against hers as they sat together, neither saying a word.

  “What were you doing in there?” Jorg asked after they’d each let their emotions settle.

  “I couldn’t sleep, and I needed more time.” Her palm still encircled the rune stones, and she squeezed them harder.

  “You were screaming and wouldn’t let go of the table. Your eyes had a glow to them. Bright, like shining turquoise stars. They did it earlier when you healed Selby’s shoulder also.” Jorg closed his arms tighter around her. His breath hitched before he continued. “Something in you is changing, and I’m afraid for you,” he whispered.

  I’m still me . . . I think.

  The words were too heavy to rise to her throat. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she pressed closer against Jorg’s chest.

  Bent over her pack, Selby adjusted the contents and didn’t look up as Ingrid and Jorg made their way back downstairs sometime later. The rain had stopped, and she looked like she was in a hurry to leave.

  “Where’s Plintze?” Ingrid asked.

  Selby straightened up and put a hand on her hip, a questioning expression on her face. “That’s all? Stroll back downstairs and act as if nothing happened? We all heard you, Ingrid.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  How could she explain what she’d seen in that vision? Was it something yet to come? Was it just a way for Jarrick to contact her and scare her?

  The sound she’d heard, that boom in the air, still rang in her ears and she wasn’t ready to face it. Though in the back of her mind, she knew exactly what had made the sound. “I needed . . . to see. To understand more . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she stared at the ground.

  A heavy sigh filled the air, and Selby touched Ingrid’s arm. “Are you okay?”

  Ingrid nodded and did her best to hold back the tears. Everything was as frightening to her as it was to her friends, but she needed to keep herself under control.

  Act strong. Be strong.

  Jorg snorted before he spoke. “The sun will be up soon. Since we’re all up anyway, we should get a start toward Jorvik. It’ll be a long walk from here.”

  Jorvik? “Why would we head to the capital?” Ingrid snapped her head up and stared at Jorg. “If Eir wanted to meet me there, I’m sure she would have told me. My bead—” she swallowed what she was about to say and wrapped her fingers around her bead. It was cold to the touch and lifeless. “That’s not the way to go. I’m sure of it.”

  “That’s where she came to you the first time. Why not go there again?” Selby asked.

  “Because things are different now. Where is Plintze anyway?” Pressure built within Ingrid’s temples, and she pressed her fingers against them.

  Before either of the others could answer, the door creaked open and Plintze tip-toed inside. A shocked look crossed his face when he saw everyone turn toward him. His mustache twitched a few times as he closed the door, but he said nothing.

  “Getting away from this place then? Good, I’ll get my things.” He strode over and picked up his spear and small pack without another glance to anyone.

  “How long have you been out?” Ingrid asked. And why do you seem guilty?

  “Not long, just went for a walk. Are we going or what?”

  Selby huffed and bent down for her own pack. “I, for one, don’t care where we go, but I’ll be happy to be away from here.”

  With a deep breath, Ingrid stepped over and packed up her things, while Jorg did the same with his.

  Once they were all outside, Jorg turned to Ingrid. “So, which way should we head then? You decide, and we’ll follow.”

  Clutching her bead again, Ingrid closed her eyes. Every muscle in her body tensed as she inhaled. She turned to hide her face from the others, but as she faced the west, her bead pulsed to life. Small tingles ran through her fingers and forced her eyes open.

  “This way.” Relieved, she squared her shoulders and marched forward, not waiting for the others to respond. The sounds of their footsteps behind her were enough to create a slight grin and a spring in her step.

  After a short time of trudging through undergrowth, they’d found a game trail to follow. Ingrid led the way with Selby behind her. The early morning dew on the leaves of the shrubbery gave off a pleasant mixture of sweet berries and earthy musk.

  Within a few heartbeats, several things happened at once. Jorg called out to Ingrid in a loud whisper, his hushed tone laced with urgency from his position behind Selby. A strange huffing and snorting sound came from the trail ahead.

  The tangy scent of copper and crack of breaking bones assaulted her senses. Ingrid, not heeding Jorg’s warning to stop, rounded a bend to stand within thirty paces of a large brown bear hovered over the carcass of a freshly killed deer.

  Everyone came to a halt and froze. The humid air squeezed Ingrid’s throat. For seconds that seemed to stretch like hours, no one moved a muscle. As if the world stopped with them, Ingrid could hear no sounds or see anything other than the hulking figure swaying its head side to side in front of her.

  From deep within the bear’s chest came a growl that sounded like thunder. The rumble passed through Ingrid as she held still, frozen in place. The beast bounced on its forelegs and lunged forward in a mock charge. Behind her, Ingrid heard the crack of branches as at least one of her friends intellige
ntly ran away.

  But she couldn’t.

  Her body stilled as her mind went numb. This was unlike any other danger she’d ever faced. A man with a sword or a shield could fall, but a bear was different. More than one man she’d known had fallen victim to a bear while out hunting, and they were experienced with far more strength.

  Jorg called to her. She heard more rustling in the brush, but she still couldn’t bring herself to move.

  With a burst of surprising speed and fury, the bear made a real charge. Ingrid raised her hands, a warm tingle flaring to life in them. It felt much like healing but slightly more energetic.

  Branches crushed behind her just as hands grabbed hold of Ingrid’s shoulders. She was spun to the side as the bear swiped its large paw across her back.

  A flash of light blinded her at the same time razor-sharp claws ripped into her shoulder blade. By the time her mind wrapped around what was happening, she was in the air. She landed with a hard thud to the ground as the air whooshed out of her lungs. Twigs poked her in the ribs and thigh, and the wounds on her back felt hot as the pain mounted every second.

  The roars and snarls of the bear were mere background noise to the throbbing pain radiating throughout her left side. Shiny spots danced around the edges of her vision, and her breath returned with heaving effort.

  A failed attempt to sit up left her panting with her head resting on the musty leaves that covered the ground. She squeezed the watery film out of her eyes and used her feet and good arm to crawl her way into the cover of a hazel bush. The nutty smell acted like a balm to her senses.

  She curled herself into as small of a ball as she could and tried to focus on the tingle of magic that still sputtered in her core. It prickled against her like the air sizzled just before lightning struck.