“There is very little that scares me anymore, Modi Grimr Thorin, and if I have to piss you off to get your attention, I will. If I have to burn this whole damned building to the ground, I will.”
Grim had put out the remaining fires, and he stood at the corner of his desk, breathing hard. Blackness filled his eyes, bleeding out into the whites until he looked alien. Demonic. I had never seen Thorin’s darkness extend that far. I had seen his anger, yes, but I had always believed he would never really turn it on me. Grim had never made any such assurances.
I put away my fire and sank into one of Grim’s visitor chairs. Now who is dismissing whom? “You are a single individual without allies, and you’ve turned the Valkyries against you. How long would you last on your own against Helen? She has an army, Grim. I’ve seen it. Give us the sword. We have more reasons and more resources to keep it from Helen than you do.”
Grim crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a hip against his desk. “You’re assuming Helen could find the sword in the first place. Do you think I keep it on me? Wear it as a trinket like my brother wears the hammer? And if the sword is so important, why isn’t Magni here? He sent a little girl and an impotent god in his place.”
“I know who I am.” Val’s voice was low and menacing. “I know what I am. I’m not in denial. I am not grasping at straws.”
“That sword is no straw,” Grim said.
Val shrugged. “You’ve lived a long time in Thor and Magni’s shadows. You’ve never had a taste of real power. The sword is your chance. I get it. Doesn’t mean I accept it.”
Grim rose up to his full height and clenched his fists at his sides. “And does it gall you to live in Baldur’s shadow? Solina, has Val told you that he grew to full adulthood within one day of his birth? He was birthed solely for the purpose of killing poor, blind Hodr as revenge for his part in killing Baldur.
“You served your purpose, Vali Odinson. You killed Hodr and fulfilled your father’s need for revenge, but Baldur is resurrected, now. His restoration negates any reason for your continued existence, yet you are bound to serve him for eternity, knowing he’s weak and addled and obsessed. How you must detest him, and yet you still call him Allfather.”
“So you both have inferiority complexes,” I said, ending Grim’s tirade.
Val’s face had turned a frightening shade of fuchsia, and he clenched his knuckles so fiercely that I wondered how the bones didn’t break through his skin.
“Work it out at your next Aesir Anonymous meeting. In the meantime, we’re getting nowhere.” I rose to my feet. “Let’s get out of here, Val. Like he said, he doesn’t keep the sword here, and he’s not going to tell us where it is. And I don’t know what else to do unless you want to resort to torture tactics.”
Val flashed a fiendish grin, and the cold menace in his voice made me shiver when he said, “I am not opposed to torture.”
I took Val’s hand and placed my palm on his face, forcing him to look at me. “Maybe some other time. It can be our last resort. But please, before there is blood, let’s go.”
Val stared into me, and I saw the gears turning inside him as he fought to reestablish his self-control.
Finally, he swallowed and nodded. He pulled away from my touch and turned his back to Grim. “Fine. Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”
Chapter Twenty-two
“Well that was pointless,” Val said as we left campus and headed toward the bed and breakfast. His hard, angry footsteps radiated his fury.
The things Grim had said were horrible, but I might have dismissed them if not for Val’s visceral reaction and if I hadn’t read something similar about Val when I had researched Aesir legends during my downtime in San Diego. I could distance myself from those ancient events when I saw them only as inanimate words on sterile paper or computer screens. The Aesir’s experiences were fairy-tales of long ago, but Val’s anger drew the past forward, made the legends real, and made me sympathize with him rather than dismissing him as a fictional character whose pain disappeared the moment I closed my book.
If Grim’s words and the legends I had read were true, then they explained a lot about Val’s loutish tendencies. A son born solely to be used as a weapon of revenge… that couldn’t be good for anyone’s emotional health. Val was accustomed to being used, so perhaps using others was what he understood best.
“But it’s not surprising,” Val said. “I never thought we’d get that sword from Grim with a please-and-thank-you attitude anyway.”
“The point of that meeting was not necessarily to recover the sword,” I said.
Val balked. “It wasn’t?”
“No. It was politics and mind games—planting seeds of doubt that will encourage Grim to look over his shoulder, question his next move. If we keep the pressure on him, keep watching him, he’ll eventually make a mistake. We can’t give up yet. Besides, I’ve got a few more ideas up my sleeve.”
Val arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh yeah?”
We stopped beside the Yukon, and I motioned to the passenger door. “Get in the truck.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
I slid behind the wheel, buckled in, and pulled away from the curb. Then I entered an address into the Yukon’s GPS and followed the map it drew for me. After a few short twists and turns through town, I stopped us again on a residential street lined in old, turn-of-the-century homes. I pointed at a green two-story craftsman perched at the top of a steep driveway several houses down from where we had parked. “Grim’s house.”
“Totally college professor.” Val studied the house. “How did you know where he lived?”
“Got the address from Hugh.”
“Hugh? You told him what you were up to before you told me?”
I shrugged. “He had Grim’s info in the store’s contact list.”
Val scowled. Then he blinked and shrugged. “You think the sword is hanging over Grim’s mantle or something?”
“No. But maybe there’s something. A hint. A clue.”
“What are you going to do if Tori’s there?” Val asked.
“If the idea is to force them into action of some sort, then confronting her could be a good thing. If she runs, we’ll follow. She won’t leave without the sword.”
“And what if she stands her ground?”
“Then I guess we should be prepared to fight.”
Val exhaled a noisy breath, put on his best Scooby Doo voice, and said, “Rokay, Raggy. Ret’s go have a rook.”
Val and I climbed the empty driveway and circled around behind the house. I jiggled the handle at the back door. “It’s locked, and there’s no car. I think no one’s home.”
Val leaned forward and peered through the door’s windows. Then my ears popped, and he disappeared. He reappeared in an instant, grinning at me from the other side of the door. He swung it open and bowed for me as I stepped over the threshold into a designer kitchen decorated in the latest fashion. Too new, too clean, too showroom perfect—the only thing suggesting anyone lived there was a faint odor of stale coffee and a dirty mug in the sink. A worn pair of women’s sneakers rested against the baseboard beside the kitchen door.
“Tori’s?” I asked, pointing at the shoes.
Val’s head bobbed in agreement. “Doubt those would fit Grim. Purple isn’t really his color.”
“What about an alarm?” I asked. “Should we hurry?”
Val pursed his lips and arched an eyebrow. “Do you think we call the cops? Do we want the law digging into our affairs?”
“Um, no?”
“I’ll bet you Grim doesn’t keep anything of value here, anyway. This is just for appearances. If anyone stole anything, he’d just buy a replacement.”
“There’s probably not much ch
ance we’ll find anything useful here, is there?”
“Leave no stone unturned.” Val tugged me farther into the house.
A quick perusal of the downstairs revealed nothing, and only Grim’s office looked regularly used. We searched desk drawers, a filing cabinet, and bookcases. When we found no map with an X marking the sword’s location, no hastily scribbled note saying, “Don’t forget to pick up Surtalogi from the dry-cleaner,” no verbose ghosts or glowing arrows pointing us in likely locations, Val herded me up the stairs to investigate the second floor.
Hotels and model homes had a more lived-in appearance than Grim’s house.
“It really is for show,” I said, standing in the middle of the master bedroom. “And not a very good one. Who would believe he actually lived here?”
We found no laundry, no personal effects on the nightstand by his side of the bed, and the furnishings looked as though they had come fresh from a photo shoot for middle-class interior decorating.
I stopped and inhaled a deep breath. “It smells like carpet and paint.”
“Maybe he has a really thorough housekeeper,” Val said. “But if he does have guests, why would they wonder? Who would have a reason to question? People are mostly lazy about the truth. If lies are easy and convenient, people will usually accept them.”
“You speak from experience?”
“You disagree?”
“I don’t accept lies, even the easy ones. I think I’ve proved that.”
“You are an exception, a very perplexing and often infuriating one.” Val stepped closer and scrubbed a thumb over my lip, wiping away my pout. “I respect you for it, Solina. But it won’t do you any favors. There’s safety in believing lies.”
“So Helen would have left me alone if I had just believed Mani died in some mundane manner? I don’t think so.”
“No.” Val shook his head. “She still needs you dead, but she wouldn’t have bothered taking up the fight against anyone else.”
I thought of Kalani and Inyoni, who was not innocent but so young and naive. “Are you trying to say it’s my fault other people have been hurt by Helen?”
Alarm flashed across Val’s face. “No. I’m absolutely not saying that.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Val exhaled a noisy breath and tossed his hands out at his sides. “Whatever it is, I’ve fouled it up. All I meant was that Grim keeps up the lie—we all keep up this lie about who we really are, and it keeps people safe, ourselves included. Our kind don’t die, but it’s not so hard to make us hurt. That’s a very fearful thing when you know suffering can last an eternity.”
What kinds of hurts had Val suffered that could last for an eternity? And do I really want to know? Probably not. Not today anyway.
“Well, I—” I started.
Val put a hand over my mouth, silencing me. Downstairs, a door slammed shut, and footsteps resounded off the kitchen’s tile flooring. Val dragged me to Grim’s walk-in closet, eased open the door, stepped in, and pulled the door closed behind us.
The footsteps, accompanied by a familiar voice, pounded up the stairs. “No,” Tori said. The bitch. “I’ve just got to grab a few things, and I’ll hit the road.” After a moment of silence, she said, “I’ll be there around sundown at the latest. Probably before then.” She paused again, and I gathered she was on her phone, maybe with Grim. “Okay. Got it. I’ll see you then.”
Tori’s footsteps clacked on the bathroom-floor tiles. The clinking sounds of something—Toiletries? Cosmetics?—carried to the closet. Val and I held our breaths, and my heart pounded frantically against my ribs. I didn’t fear discovery, really. Even if Tori found us hiding in the closet, at most we would lose the advantage of secrecy. It’s not like she’d attack us. Or would she? Maybe her arrival was providing the break we needed, though. She was going somewhere, meeting someone. If Grim wouldn’t lead us to the sword, then Tori gave us our next best lead. Val must have thought the same thing. His grip on my arm tightened, and he pulled me closer.
Tori left the bathroom and went back downstairs. Val and I exhaled but stayed in the closet, still and silent, until a downstairs door opened and closed, signaling Tori’s exit.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked.
Val nodded. “Follow that Valkyrie.”
Careful not to give ourselves away, Val and I slunk away from the house and climbed into the Yukon. I let Tori’s blue Subaru go a good distance down the road, but not out of sight, before I started our truck and pulled away from the curb.
“Where do you think she’s going?” I asked. The question was mostly rhetorical as I assumed Val and I had drawn similar conclusions. “Grim?”
“That’s my guess,” Val said.
“But where? Where would he go?”
“When you’ve been around as long as we have, you tend to collect places—homes, hidey-holes, temporary and long term. He could be anywhere. Or nowhere.”
Tori led us through town on a route that delivered us onto I-5, heading north. She merged onto the highway, and I dropped back, letting several cars fill the space between her Subaru and our Yukon.
“I’m going to check in with Skyla,” I said, digging my phone from my pocket. “See if the Aerie has heard anything.”
“You think that’s a good idea? I thought the idea of sneaking away in the night was because we don’t trust the Valkyries.”
“I trust Skyla, and I think it would be a good idea if someone knows where we are. Just in case.”
Val waved his hand as if saying, Fine, do what you like.
Skyla answered on the first ring. “Mundy, it’s about time I heard from you. Any word on the sword?”
I filled Skyla in on our trip to Corvallis, my conversation with Thorin, my meeting with Grim, and the results of our investigation of Grim’s house.
“So, you’re following Tori out to who knows where to do who knows what?”
“Pretty much.”
“Just you and Val?”
“Who else?”
“How about a couple Valkyries? For backup.”
“What do you mean?”
Skyla’s exhalation carried through the phone’s speaker. “Just listen and keep an open mind.”
She launched into a story about how Embla and Naomi, one of the other women jockeying for leadership of the Valkyries, had awoken for their regular early-morning training and discovered the Yukon missing. They had gone to Skyla and gotten her to admit what she knew about the disappearance of one sun goddess and her faithful Aesir sidekick.
“You told them?” I asked. “You know I don’t trust them.”
“Well, I do,” she said, defensive and resolute.
“You’ve known Embla is your aunt for five hot minutes, and you think you can trust her? That’s not your call to make.”
“Well, who the hell else do I have if I don’t trust her?”
“You have me. You have your loyalty to my brother’s memory.”
“I am loyal to you. Everything I’ve done is for your benefit. You think you’re going to do what? Confront Grim and Tori, a god and one of the Valkyries’ best fighters, and talk them out of the sword? You already told me how well diplomacy worked with Grim. Are you really ready to fight them for it?”
“Yes,” I said. “If I have to.”
“You’re not a fighter, girlfriend. Not one equal to Grim and Tori.”
“I have my fire.”
“You can barely control it. You’re a danger to yourself.”
Skyla could have slapped me or punched me in the gut, and it would have hurt less. My breath left in a gasp. Tears burned in my eyes. There I was, like the hundreds of motorists around me, rolling down the highway, so unassuming, so normal. But inside that ordinary SUV, I struggled to main
tain my composure because otherwise I would blow Val, the Yukon, and possibly several innocent travelers into smithereens. Otherwise, I would prove Skyla right.
Val, being the strong, sensitive type—ha ha!—detected my distress. He reached out and grasped my free hand, a gesture of solidarity.
“Solina, I’m sorry.” Skyla’s tone softened. “That came out all wrong.”
I said nothing. I could say nothing. She was sort of right. She had stated the truth, and I had no right to criticize her for it. Still, I felt betrayed.
“Look,” Skyla continued. “None of that matters. What I really need to tell you is that Embla, Naomi and I are already on our way. We hit the road first thing this morning. We’re nearly to Corvallis, but we’re rerouting to come after you.”
“You’re what?” I said, nearly speechless again. My mind reeled.
“We’re not leaving this to you and Val alone,” Skyla said.
I sighed and dragged my fingers through my hair, and the scrape of my nails against my scalp soothed me.
“Solina, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking,” I said. “I’m pissed, and I feel a little betrayed, but at the same time, I’m relieved. I was freaking out. The possibility of confronting Grim with that sword and Tori… She’s kicked my ass so many times, and she wasn’t even trying hard.” I heaved a breath. “And you’re right about my fire, although I want to bust you in your face for saying it.”
Skyla laughed, and something about her humor relieved the heartache she had given me moments before. “You’ve got guts, girlfriend.”
“‘And girls with guts survive.’ I know, I know. Doesn’t feel like I have guts. Feels like I have a ball of quivering nerves.”
Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2) Page 22
