Forecast

by Rinda Elliott

  “Okay.” He looked around. “Guess we can fight our way through the crowd to get a piece of paper.”

  “No, I’ll just put it on my phone on the memo app.” Warner let go of Mrs. Durbin and pulled out his cell phone. “At least that part of the phone still works. For now. We’ll have generators going soon. You got a generator?” he asked me.

  I shook my head. “No, but I have propane heaters and a camp stove.”

  “That’ll do it. Make sure the rooms are ventilated. You guys need to get into dry clothes soon.”

  I gave him my address and cell number. Though Taran’s dad had already followed me home the other night, I doubt he remembered the details. I hoped Warner attributed the hard clatter of my teeth to just the cold. Taran didn’t understand why I was freaking out—I could tell. He was trying to, though. Staring hard at me, his eyebrows raised.

  I could never, ever, be without something to write on.

  The cop frowned at me. “I meant it. You need to get warm. Grim and Josh are around here somewhere, Taran. You all stay at her house. If your father knows you’re safe, he can do his job.” He looked over our heads. “There they are now. Good, they have bags of things. Probably dry clothes.”

  I tugged on Taran’s arm. “I doubt my car is still at your house. And from the looks of things on the way here, driving would be impossible. How are we going to get to my place?” I loved that silly little orange car. My eyes started to tear up and I fought for control. Crying about a car when there was all this...this heartbreak around us was petty. But the mix of sadness, fear and exhaustion twisting inside my chest made me think anything could make me cry at this point. I looked at the silently crying Mrs. Durbin, who was terrified she’d lost her son, my heart aching for her.

  “Take my Jeep.” Officer Warner handed Taran the keys. “You’ll have to walk to that church up the street.” He pointed north. “Do you know which one? I left the Jeep there and walked here.”

  Taran nodded.

  “It’ll be safer away from here anyway. The roads south of here are impassable, but you should be okay. Mostly. Just be careful.”

  “Thanks.” Taran pocketed them. “Make sure you tell Dad where we’ll be.” He frowned. “Warner, is your family okay?”

  The officer nodded. “I moved them out yesterday when the newscasters started looking green around the gills.”

  Josh and Grim stopped beside us, both holding trash bags that bulged at odd angles. Josh had dirt streaking his face, blood on his neck, and his coat had been ripped all the way down the side.

  Grim’s jeans had taken a bad hit, rips covering one thigh and shin—one of the knees was out. His limbs shook as he clutched his trash bag close.

  “I’m so sorry about your home,” I said softly.

  Grim nodded, tried to smile and failed.

  “We don’t know where our parents are. They weren’t in our hou...what’s left of our house.” Josh put his hand on Grim’s shoulder, squeezed. “We found an open pawnshop and got one of those corded phones that will still work without power.” He looked at Officer Warner. “Could you tell my parents when they show up?”

  “I’ll keep a lookout for them.” The cop pulled his phone back out. “That corded phone will come in handy. What was your name again?” He looked at me.

  “Coral.”

  “Coral, do you mind giving me your home phone? That way his dad can call and check in as soon as he can. And I can pass the number along to the Tanners.”

  I gave him my number even though my urge to get going was making me feel crazy. I had to have something to write with and soon. I didn’t have a rune font in my phone, so I couldn’t use the memo thing. Though I wished I’d thought of that before.

  Taran was frowning at me again. He turned to Josh and Grim. “We’re going to crash at her place and we’re taking Officer Warner’s Jeep.”

  * * *

  The Jeep’s heater was the most wonderful thing I’d ever felt. The twins insisted I take the passenger front seat, so one of the vents blasted in my face. Normally, I hated that—found it hard to breathe as my sinuses dried out. But this time was different. I closed my eyes and absorbed the heat. And even though it took us an hour to reach my house, I still didn’t feel warm. When I opened my eyes, I looked around in amazement at all the cars jamming our street. I’d known my neighbors were taking people in before the wave, but it looked like the numbers had doubled.

  “Coral?” Taran brought the Jeep to a stop.

  I turned toward him, taking in the signs of exhaustion in the shadows. I could only see him because of the moonlight reflecting off snow—so I couldn’t see much. I hadn’t realized that much time had passed. I must have slept longer than I’d thought at the hotel.

  “Did you leave your door open?” he asked.

  My gaze flew to the open front door, then I turned to scramble from the Jeep.

  “Wait!” he yelled. “You can’t go in there without me.”

  “Without us,” Grim added as he got out and stood beside the vehicle. “It might be neighbors looting.”

  “None of my neighbors would do that.” My heart started to pound harder. “In fact, they all kind of help look out for us—have ever since we moved in.” I rubbed my stomach.

  “I’m hungry, too.” Taran said, misunderstanding my gesture. He touched my shoulder as I stepped beside him. “We need to get you food and dry clothes. I’m going in first to check it out.”

  “Wait,” I whispered as my stomach cramped. Hard. I hadn’t been rubbing it because I was hungry. I grimaced, wrapped my arms around my waist.

  “What is it?” He lifted my chin. “Hey, you okay?”

  “No,” I gasped out. “This is worse than usual. I usually get sick after.” I groaned, dropped to my knees in the snow.

  “What does she mean worse than usual?” Grim asked. “And after?”

  Taran knelt beside me. “Coral. Is it that thing again? That rune thing?”

  I nodded, then shook my head. “I think so, but it’s different.” This time, the moan I couldn’t stop sounded truly pathetic. I grasped my stomach, bending until my forehead was nearly in the snow. My hair fell forward into it. I didn’t remember losing my hair scrunchie. Gasping at the cramps tearing through my abdomen, I lifted my head to tell Taran to take me inside, biting my tongue when the world didn’t go into its usual slow spin. It took off, kind of like someone grabbing the handle of a top and spinning.

  “Crap,” Taran gasped. But he managed to slide his hands under my arms and lift me out of the cold snow. He stood, bracing his legs and wrapped me around him, burying my face in his neck. I was surprised to find a little warmth there, so I burrowed in. “Scared I’m going to puke on you,” I murmured into his skin.

  “I’ll wash if you do.” He clasped his hand on the back of my head, quiet as he held me. I had my eyes jammed so tightly shut, I didn’t feel the spin stop. Taran turned so his lips were by my ear. “You okay now? Josh and Grim are frozen into big, ugly statues.”

  “I need something to write with. Fast. It’s not the way it usually is. This is worse.”

  He carried me toward the porch.

  “I can walk.”

  “Humor me. You look like you’re in a lot of pain. I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t like it much, either.” I let him carry me, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

  He hurried inside. “At least whoever is in your house will be standing around like a statue.”

  I immediately thought of the way that dark elf’s hand had slowly moved. “There are notepads right on the coffee table. Pens, too. Put me down. You can look through the house. Or not. It could be another elf—one better at fighting through the rune tempus.”

  He set me on the blue cushions on my wicker couch, picked up a candle lig
hter and lit a set of fat pillars we kept on a long platter on the coffee table. The light helped dispel the darkness, but threw creepy shadows into the corners of the room. My norn didn’t seem to be moving as she usually did when it was time for a message. She always seemed restless, as if she hated the way we had to communicate—hated being locked inside someone else’s body. She was eerily quiet this time. I cried out when another cramp hit me, and between one blink and the next, I was no longer in my living room.

  Chapter Eight

  I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to stop the whimpers as the pain slashed through me. It felt like being pierced by icy swords. Rocking on the couch, I gripped the pen, scared I’d drop it and my norn would find a more painful way to get her message out.

  When I opened my eyes, I still wasn’t in my living room. The pain let up and I stood, my legs shaky as I blinked into the glare of bright sun. Wherever I was, it had been snowing because a pristine field of untouched snow spread out in some kind of ravine. No—I squinted—not a ravine. Even though it was covered in layers of precipitation, it had a man-made feel to it...ancient man-made. Like an arena that should have had stone columns and stairs fanning out in a huge circle. This place was long past standing columns.

  Magic permeated the ground here—like hundreds of witches had poured liquid spells into the earth. It saturated everything.

  Wherever this was, it had once been a sacred place. Even the air had a taste that tingled on the tongue. Like the pure extract of lemon I’d unfortunately tasted once, which turned out to be 80 percent tongue-burning alcohol.

  A rumble shook the earth, followed by a cracking noise so loud, I ducked and covered my ears, because it sounded like the world around me was splitting in two. Like a crash of thunder, only louder. Deeper. The ground quaked as a massive furrow crept jaggedly along the entire arena floor. Snow spilled into the hole as it grew wider.

  Three pairs of hands appeared, holding on to the rocky edges.

  I sucked in a breath and held it as bodies followed the hands. Bodies with long, white hair topping shoulders as wide as the wall of cabinets in my kitchen. Rugged, burlap clothes, like loincloths, covered the two men and one woman who pulled themselves out of the earth. The woman had a wide strip of the material across her breasts.

  Giants.

  They were actual giants and they were coming into our realm.

  I looked for a place to hide, but when I took a step, my feet didn’t disturb the snow. I wasn’t really wherever this was—I was only an observer. An observer who could feel and taste the magic. Shivering, I watched as the giants didn’t bother to look around. They merely walked as if encumbered by their own weight, side by side, as they left the arena

  Dizziness swamped me and I shut my eyes hard, held my breath. This time, when I peeked, I still wasn’t home. But I wasn’t in a ravine, either. Now, I stood on the slope of a mountain. A steep slope, because the urge to fall forward had me groping the crooked limb of a tree. My hand went through the wood. Why I felt gravity was a complete mystery. I ran my hand through the tree a couple more times before a huge rumbling shook the ground under my ghost feet. One of the tree limbs snapped in two and rolled down the slope, falling into a new crack appearing—right in the side of the mountain. Two pairs of hands came out to grip the sides this time.

  More giants pulled themselves from the crevice and did the same as the others—began walking without checking out their surroundings. They never looked at each other, merely moved forward in huge, lumbering strides that took up a lot of ground. I watched them until they became specs in the distance.

  When a black feather fluttered in front of my face, I reached out instinctively. My finger went through the plume. Someone gasped behind me. I spun, shock tightening every muscle in my body when my mother and I stared at each other. She wore a strange, black-feathered coat that covered most of her body and her face was...off. My mother wore makeup, brushed her hair. She never looked like a drug addict who’d just crawled out of a dirty gutter.

  Her surprise, greater than mine, mangled her features for an instant before she narrowed her eyes and looked at me in a way my mother had never done before. Resentment burned in eyes the same gray color as mine before she suddenly spun into the air and disappeared, leaving with a loud crash of noise—like breaking glass.

  Stunned, I stupidly tried to grab hold of the tree again and felt myself falling. I tucked my head in my arms but didn’t roll. I didn’t move at all. The cloying scent of lavender hit me, and I gagged and sat up to find myself on the floor of my kitchen. Below me, in huge sweeps of black Sharpie were the runes. I had never had visions and the runes together before. Never missed the writing of them.

  “Jotnar on the march,” I read aloud. My stomach was sore from all the pain before. I winced and crossed my arms over it, forgetting I held the black marker. It got all over Taran’s coat.

  The thought of Taran made me stagger to my feet. I went from room to room, panic growing as I didn’t find him. The scent of lavender was so strong!

  My mind couldn’t seem to grasp the fact that I’d just watched frost giants crawling out of the earth, that my rune tempus had showed me, and told me, that they were marching. A double punch because there was only one reason they were on the move.

  The snow, the waves tearing up the land...and now the creatures showing up. Not just the giants, but that thing Taran and I had seen in the restaurant. If this was Ragnarok, it was happening instantly—it wasn’t the drawn-out years of tribulation we had been taught to expect.

  My heart pounded as I ran into the front yard. I’d seen my mother with me on the mountain, but I’d also seen her take off into the air. So she could have been here during the first part of my vision.

  I was pretty sure she’d been wearing Freyja’s coat. Made of falcon feathers, it was supposed to have given the goddess the power of shape-shifting...and flight. How my mother got her hands on such a thing was beyond my comprehension.

  Josh and Grim still stood frozen where they’d been before. One of the Jeep doors hung open. I noticed people’s faces—lots of people’s faces—staring out at Josh and Grim from neighbors’ houses. It looked like everyone was taking people in. That would explain all the vehicles.

  I pushed suspended snowflakes from in front of my face as I ran out into the street. The scent of lavender came to me again, and because there was no breeze during my rune tempus, I didn’t know which direction it came from.

  But the smell, as always, sent adrenaline-fueled worry into me. I ran around the side of the house.

  And found Taran on the back porch.

  Only his feet were visible at first, and I stopped at the edge of my backyard, momentarily too terrified to walk closer because he was lying on his back. I was so scared my mother had somehow reached him while I’d been locked in my vision.

  Shaking, I approached the porch, then breathed a sigh of relief when I heard him groan. I knelt next to him, searching for signs of a wound.

  “I’m okay,” he said on a long sigh as he kept his eyes closed. “Just completely weirded out. I came out here and a woman who looked like a dirty, crazy, older version of you in a black-feathered coat pointed a little crossbow at me.” He pointed toward the house. “She missed, got pissed, and I swear she cracked open the atmosphere or something and disappeared.” He touched the back of his head. “I’d claim pain from the fall scrambled my brain, but all that happened before I hit the deck.”

  I stood and walked to where he’d pointed. “It’s an ice arrow,” I murmured. An ice arrow would melt, the water would hold onto spells well, so it made a good weapon. And she could have dipped it into something. Spelled it.

  But I’d taken her poison.

  Then I remembered the day I’d last seen her, when she’d locked herself in her room and Raven, Kat and I had found datura. That could work as a poison, too. It wa
sn’t as deadly as the snake venom, but if my mother had attached spells to it, it could be.

  I wrapped my arms around my waist, shaking. This wasn’t like her at all. But then, I’d just looked into her eyes in a vision trip, and what I had seen was nothing like her. Plus, this time she’d been moving during my rune tempus. So had the giants. I frowned. The elf hadn’t, though.

  Taran groaned again as he sat up.

  I walked back to help him stand, then brushed snow off the back of his black coat.

  “Coral, why didn’t your mother just hit me with my hammer?”

  “I still don’t see why she’d be out there hitting kids with a hammer—I just don’t.” I paused. “Unless you think those kids had god souls.” That made sense. A lot of sense. Magnus had moved during my rune tempus. Then that would mean the kid who’d been hit on the pier must have had a soul, too, because he’d walked right by me. I opened my mouth to tell him about the visions but the world went into its return spin.

  “You have the lousiest timing. Ever.” Taran didn’t hold on to me this time. Instead, he grabbed the railing on the porch and shut his eyes. “I wasn’t one of those kids who liked the spinning rides at amusement parks. Hated them so much. Going up high and dropping was my thing. Spinning is stupid.”

  As soon as everything stopped, Josh and Grim started yelling in the front yard. The wind had died down after the storm, so it was easy to hear them.

  “Where did they go?” Josh shouted.

  “How should I know? They were right here and then poof.”

  “She must have done that trance thing she told us about.”

  “I don’t care, Josh. I’m freezing. Let’s go into the house.”

  “You go first. The door is still open, and now our friends have disappeared.”

  “Huglausi skirja,” Grim said, still sort of yelling. “Notice all the footsteps? They obviously went inside.” Grim was quiet a moment. “And came back out and went in again. What the hell were we doing while everyone else was apparently running around?”