She sat up and rolled over, trying to ignore the pain radiating down her back as she slammed the elevator call button. Then she turned on her knees and watched as the dragon took a few steps back. It blinked its eyes—tiny compared to its huge head—and huffed in confusion before letting loose a pathetic yowl of pain. Yellowish blood pattered onto the wood floor. The dragon’s nostrils flared as it sniffed at the wound, the wings tucked against its back fluttering.
After a moment, it reared its head around to look at Edie, pupils dilating. She clutched the machete tighter. Come on, elevator!
Unexpectedly, a woman’s voice rang out. It was soft, but filled the hall, as if the speaker were standing right next to them: “Augustus! What do you think you’re doing?”
The dragon’s ears flattened against its head. It hunched a bit, hopping to one side and twisting into a U to look back down the hall. Loosing a little honk, it lowered its head further.
Edie leaned to one side, breathing hard, to see past it.
A short woman stood there, probably no more than an inch or two above five feet. She wore a houndstooth-patterned pencil dress, her fiery red hair close-cropped and slicked back with a streak of white peeking out at the front. Edie wasn’t sure who she was looking at, but she sure was glad she’d arrived—as long as the woman wasn’t going to change her mind and sic the dragon on her, anyway.
The woman barely looked at Edie as she beckoned the dragon closer with a stern look. “Exactly what are you doing, sir? What have I told you about chasing, Augustus? It scares humans.”
The dragon ducked his head even lower, chin almost grazing the floor. He quirked one ear at the woman, sat on his haunches, and planted his front feet wider, exhaling hard. His thick tail slapped the floor in annoyance.
“Don’t take that tone with me.”
The woman stepped forward and grabbed the dragon’s head with both hands—despite resistance on his end—lifting it so that their eyes were level. Edie had to wonder where this small woman found the strength to manhandle such a creature. His head alone—a boxy, canine shape ending in a lizard nose—was wider than her torso.
“That is not how we treat guests! And look, you made a mess of the floors. That was a bad boy.”
Augustus recoiled when she said the words bad boy and sank lower to the floor, looking between Edie and the woman with sad, shiny puppy eyes. Edie relaxed a bit and stood slowly.
“Apologize,” the woman commanded.
The dragon grunted at the floor stubbornly.
“Ugh.” She shook her head, pointing down the hall, away from them. “Go see Percy, you naughty lizard.”
Augustus glanced back at Edie one last time before huffing and thumping his way down the hall, back legs bowed and tail swishing back and forth. Under normal circumstances, the image of him grumpily shaking his giant ass would have been cute. As it was, Edie shivered, limbs numb and heart thundering.
The woman watched him until he disappeared around a corner. Then, she turned and looked at Edie, tilting her head. One corner of her maroon-painted lips quirked up as she took a few steps closer, offering a pale hand. “Sorry about him, hon. He just likes to play.”
Edie exhaled incredulously, but accepted the woman’s hand nonetheless. “Play? He nearly mauled me.”
The woman shrugged and held Edie’s hand for a moment before letting it go. “He’s still a baby, and when you’re that big, it’s hard to play gently. In the wild, he’d be chasing his friends and tackling them just like he did to you. You can tell he wasn’t trying to hurt you because he didn’t poison his claws.”
“Oh. I guess that’s good news.” Edie sheathed her machete, wincing as she felt a bit of blood trickle down her back. Thankfully—apparently—he hadn’t been trying to kill her, and her leather jacket had taken the brunt of the damage, so she probably only had scratches. Still, they stung like fire.
She wriggled out of her jacket and held it up in front of her to assess the damage. A little whine issued from the back of her throat. The jacket had two ragged holes and two rips in the middle—he’d completely torn through the leather and most of the lining. Should have worn a sweatshirt under this. Now she was feeling rather chilly in her purple tank top. And she’d have to spend some nonexistent money on another jacket.
The redhead’s eyes widened, and she sighed hard. “Oh, that little griss.” She reached out and touched the jacket, fingering the leather with a mournful expression. “I’ll replace it, if you like.”
“It’s fine,” Edie lied. She grimaced as she twisted an arm to wiggle her fingers under her tank top and brush the wounds there. “Sorry I, uh, hurt him.”
“He’ll be fine. His kind regenerate quickly. Did he hurt you? Can I get you something?” The woman stepped a little closer.
“It’s okay. I can heal it.” She’d been practicing healing herself with blood magic for the past couple months and was getting pretty good at it. She could staunch bleeding and close up nicks from kitchen knives in a couple of minutes now. The most bothersome thing about the scratches on her back was the pain—and the fact that her shirt was now spotted with blood.
The woman smiled a little. “Well done. You must be Edith, then.”
“Yeah.” Edie threw her jacket over one shoulder and smoothed herself out. “I’m here to see Indriði.”
The woman laughed. “Open your eyes, babe, because here I am.”
This was Indriði? Edie had expected someone with pointy ears and a gown, not a chic businesswoman. There was also the distinct lack of a crazy Icelandic accent. Edie nibbled on her lip. “It’s good to, uh, finally meet you.”
“It’s good to finally meet you, too, Edie. Can I call you Edie?”
Edie exhaled. “Please.” Glancing down the hall, she added, “Is that a pet dragon?”
Indriði turned and started toward where the dragon had disappeared, motioning for her guest to follow. “He’s a drake. They’re a much smaller class of dragon. He’s technically an adolescent, but won’t get too much bigger.” The Norn looked at Edie as she caught up with her, quirking a red brow. “They make excellent guard animals. In theory. A well-trained drake will only listen to its master, but you saw how sassy he can be.”
“I guess giant teeth and claws would make an intruder think twice about his life choices. And poison, apparently.”
“Yep. He’s a Venomgut, so his breed is known for their poison powers. They’re also immune to mind-control, sleeping, and confusion spells. Useful, no?”
They reached the end of the hall, and Indriði led her around the corner, then took an immediate left. This hallway was shorter, with a pair of white double doors at the end. Edie felt like she had completed a trial and was finally being led to the center of the labyrinth. Hopefully, her luck would continue.
The Norn strode forward and opened both doors simultaneously.
Chapter Five
It took a moment for Edie’s eyes to adjust to the much brighter room. It was a spacious two-story great room with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city. The dark wood floors were polished to a shine. On one end was a beautiful dining table lined with high-back chairs, and on the other, a sleek electric fireplace sizzling with blue fire. In the middle sat a glass coffee table and two white armchairs facing each other. To their right as they entered, a staircase climbed up to a loft.
As Indriði led her to the armchairs, Edie craned her neck to see another, more richly furnished living area.
Indriði settled into her chair. “Augustus is very smart, but he would rather chew on furniture and play than patrol the halls for intruders. Maybe I spoil him too much. There’s also the fact that he’s going to want to try his wings soon. He didn’t come with them clipped.”
As soon as she said the drake’s name, a rustling, slinking noise came from the loft. Edie watched with a quickening pulse as Augustus himself eyed her from the overlook, then minced down the stairs. In the bright light, his black scales looked iridescent—emerald, gold, pink.
He thumped closer, head down, tail curled close to his body as he sniffed the air around her.
Edie stood stone still, glancing to Indriði. “What do I do?”
The Norn waved a hand. “Ignore him. He’ll get used to you. He’s just being a touchy little prat.”
It wasn’t quite as easy as ignoring a temperamental cat or a nasty dog, though, was it? Nonetheless, Edie trusted that Indriði knew what she was talking about—for the moment—and eased into the seat opposite her.
Augustus slunk behind Indriði’s chair and horseshoed around it, fixing Edie with an unwavering stare. Even as he craned his neck to lick his wound, he glared at her.
Great. Leave it to her to get off on the wrong foot with a poisonous drake.
“I hope Roggvi didn’t give you any trouble, besides leaving you behind.” Indriði crossed her legs and relaxed into her seat. “He’s very protective of me.”
“It’s … fine, I guess. It’s just— I lagged behind for a second and he was gone all of a sudden.” Edie fingered the ruined leather of her jacket and tried to figure out how to word her next question politely. “What exactly is he? Roggvi. I’m kind of new to all this.”
The Norn smiled and reached out to stroke the top of Augustus’s head slowly. “He’s a dvergr—sorry, a dwarf. He’s been my steward for … gods, ages now. Over three hundred years. I can’t say he was pleased when I decided to join civilization. Dwarves aren’t known for their outgoing personalities.”
“Is he made of metal?”
Indriði nodded. “Convenient, right? Long-lasting and durable.” She laughed, then waved a hand. “You want something to drink? Tea, coffee?”
“Just water,” Edie replied. Though her throat was dry as hell, she wasn’t sure if she would actually risk drinking anything she was offered. Indriði had saved her from the drake, and she did exude a calming energy, but better safe than sorry.
Indriði plucked a little bell from the glass coffee table and rang it. A moment later, a small door next to the dining area opened and a silver trolley rolled out, seemingly of its own accord. It stopped right beside Edie, and after a moment, a familiar creature scuttled out from behind it: the blue spider.
“Thank you, Percy.” The Norn grinned and gestured to the spider. “Edie, you’ve met Percy.”
The spider looked up at her with sparkly eyes, rubbing its fangs.
“Uh, yeah, I have.” Edie shifted uncomfortably, but still smiled at the spider. He seemed nice. It wasn’t his fault he was scary. “Hi again.”
“As you can see,” Indriði said, patting Augustus before standing and going to the trolley, “I’m a bit of an animal lover. Spiders in particular. They’re so misunderstood. They’re just weavers trying to survive in this world like everyone else—like Norns.” She held up a crystal water jug as she said it, then poured Edie a glass and handed it to her.
Edie accepted it, trying to keep smiling politely. “Yeah, they’re pretty.”
The room was quiet for a while. Edie had been watching closely when Indriði poured the drink and hadn’t noticed anything suspicious, so she hazarded a little sip. It was easier to use bloodmending when she was hydrated and well-rested. She could try for at least one of those things.
Eventually, Indriði finished fixing her tea and went to sit in her chair again. Percy left the trolley where it was, disappearing behind the ever-staring Augustus, then reappearing on the drake’s back. Now they were both staring.
“But anyway,” the Norn said, adjusting the silver tea strainer over her cup, “I know you didn’t come here to chat about spiders and drakes. You must have wanted me for something important, considering the lengths to which you went to contact me.”
Edie grimaced, thinking about the party. In some ways, it was good that she had been there to witness Sárr’s takeover. On the other hand, they had walked right into a trap that Astrid had been so sure the Gloaming couldn’t possibly set. How had Zaedicus known they were looking for Indriði, or even that they would show up?
That thought still haunted Edie, and she knew it must bother the others, too. Was someone watching them, or was it more unthinkable than that? Was one of them a mole?
She cleared her throat. “Yeah, well, we didn’t know it would turn out to be such a big deal. All I wanted was to talk to you.”
Indriði took a sip of her tea and opened a hand. “Here I am. And I can finally ask what exactly you wanted me for.”
Now came the difficult part. She took a deep breath, knotted her fingers in her ruined jacket, and said, “We … I wanted to ask you if you would join the Reach.”
If the Norn was fazed by this, her expression didn’t give anything away. Her tone was less cordial, though. “Of course you do. You really are your father’s daughter.”
Edie grimaced. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but we need you. You saw what happened. The Aurora and the Gloaming are going to start fighting, and they’re going to sweep a lot of innocent people up in it. We’ve got to protect them. Or stop it.”
“Who is we?” the Norn asked flatly.
Edie got the feeling she already knew the answer. “Listen….” She floundered for something professional, something diplomatic and profound to say, but gave up. There was no sense in dancing around the truth when she didn’t know the dance steps. “I know why you hate Astrid.”
Indriði was quiet, staring.
“I’m not going to try and convince you to like her. The fact is, you don’t have to like her to help us, and we need help.” She paused. “I get why she wants to bring the Reach back so much. Attuned people’s options shouldn’t be between genocide and complete domination and slavery. And now the New Gloaming are hurting unattuned people, too. They’ve murdered a bunch of people, and caused riots and chaos for no good reason.”
“Do you really think a handful of Reach are going to make the difference?”
“No … but we can get more people. We can start, with your help.”
Indriði smiled thinly. “You say we so confidently, but do you even know who we is?”
Edie opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say. What did she mean by that?
The Norn took another sip of her tea before leaning forward and placing it on the corner of the coffee table. She was silent for a few moments, too, before she clasped her hands and looked up at Edie. “Have you ever had your runes read, hon?”
“Uh … I had my palm read by a drag queen once.”
Indriði chuckled and snapped her fingers, and a bag appeared in her hand. Made of deep navy silk and studded with tiny white stones, it looked like the night sky. She smiled slyly at Edie. “Cool, huh?”
Edie laughed nervously.
The Norn shook the bag, and something inside rattled. “First step of runecasting: you have to ask the runes a question. I’m sure you have more of those than you know what to do with. You can ask anything you want, and we’ll see if they answer.”
She was right about Edie’s number of questions. In fact, Edie had so many that she wasn’t really sure which to start with. Honestly, some of her most pressing questions were also the most broad.
As if she had read her thoughts, Indriði prompted, “You can ask anything, from the most obscure questions to the most specific.”
Edie hesitated for a moment before crossing her legs uncomfortably, looking at the bag in the Norn’s hands. “Okay … hi, I guess, runes?” She paused. “What’s, uh … what’s my general situation looking like?”
Indriði smiled and handed the bag to Edie. “Shake them up, then dump them out.”
Edie shook them until the Norn looked satisfied. Then she loosened the drawstring at the top of the bag and emptied it onto the coffee table.
Royal purple tiles cascaded onto the glass surface, clinking. They were roughly oblong, etched with angular characters that Edie, through the little bit of studying she’d done since spring, recognized as the Elder Futhark, the oldest runic alphabet. The letters, painted gold, glittered as they came t
o rest.
The Norn snapped again, and the tiles began moving by themselves. They scraped against the glass as some of them arranged themselves in a three-by-three square in front of Edie with dizzying speed. Once they came to a stop, Indriði smiled and brushed the other runes off to the side. “And here’s your answer. You want me to tell you what it means?”
Edie nodded silently.
“This row represents your past.” Indriði pointed to the row of tiles closest to Edie, indicating the first tile in the row. The character sort of looked like a cup on its side. “This rune, perthro, represents your hidden past. It tells me there was a secret in your past, maybe secret even to you. Perhaps coming into a magical power?”
Edie chewed her bottom lip. “My dad never told me about what I— what we were. He didn’t tell me anything about the world.”
The Norn cocked a brow and nodded. “And there might still be something hidden from you. Who knows?”
Edie didn’t like that thought.
“This one”—she pointed to the next rune—“represents your general past, what happened to you. It’s laguz, but it’s inverted, see? Merkstave, which means the original meaning of the rune is reversed.”
“Okay….”
“This one is telling me about a time of confusion and sadness. You made bad decisions. You were afraid, going around in circles, trying to avoid addressing things that hurt too much. I see you sick, withering away.”
Edie frowned. When her dad had died, it felt like the whole world had collapsed. Like there was no meaning to any of it.
Indriði pointed to the final rune. “This is ingwaz, the beginning and end.”
Edie reached for her wrist, touching the ingwaz tattooed there.
“This tile represents your current feelings about the past. Ingwaz has no merkstave, so there’s kind of….” The Norn made a vague gesture. “A duality. It tells me, on one hand, you feel a sort of peace, knowing the truth about yourself and your father, like an a-ha moment where questions you didn’t even know you had were answered. But on the other, there was labor, sacrifice. You’ve had to give up a lot because of what happened, including your old life … or maybe the way you used to see your dad.”
No Earthly Treason Page 4
