Foretold

by Rinda Elliott

  He held his hands in front of the heat vents. Turned the two in the middle toward me as soon as the air went warm. “So, what do you know about this snow?” he asked.

  The cab of his truck suddenly felt smaller. Talking about it seemed scarier than thinking about it—like it was more real. “The great winter. Snow and winds that come from all directions. Three years of winter with one summer break—according to some texts. The general breakdown of society.” I stared at him. “Honestly? I’m terrified.”

  “Me, too. Everyone’s scared, but all those people buying out the grocery stores only think it’s a freak storm—a freak worldwide storm like Mother Nature just got confused. My family knew. As soon as the snow started falling, they all knew.” He didn’t start driving, just sat there with his hands wrapping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. “What I don’t get is why you came out here if you knew this.” Dark eyes turned toward me. “Why would you leave your family and risk driving here in this weather. Why the runestone?”

  I looked out of the window on my side. Couldn’t meet his eyes. “Why not? Who knows how much time we have left? Not if the snow is just the beginning.” I had to change the subject. “Don’t know why you’re surprised I’d want to see the stone. All that studying I told you about? My sisters and I think maybe it points to a gloaming grove.”

  Vanir froze. “What do you know about those?”

  I stared hard at him, wondering if he realized what he’d just given away with his reaction. “Not much. We know that our ancestors didn’t have churches but actual sacred places outside. My mother has been to the one up north and my sister Coral found a story about a grove that enhanced magic. When we read about the stone here—that some scholars translated it to say Glome Dal—we put two and two together.”

  “And got four.”

  My heart was beating so hard it hurt. “Seriously? It’s a gloaming grove? Right there in the park?”

  He shook his head and one strand of long, blond hair slid out of its confines to spill down his cheek. “The runes are off on purpose. It’s to lead people away from the grove. Only a few people know its exact location. And it’s not actually where the stone is.”

  “Do you know?” I whispered.

  His lips tightened as he nodded. “I was born there.”

  Blinking, I stared at him. What could that mean? Gloaming groves were rumored to be the most concentrated and powerful places of magic. To actually be born in one? Of course, my sisters and I were conceived in one and look at us. I twisted my fingers together and it hurt because they were so cold, but I had to know, had to ask. “Vanir, do you know about...I mean, does your family know...crap, I don’t know how to ask you this.” I ended the last part on a near-whisper, feeling like a complete idiot.

  “Are you trying to ask if I know what I am?”

  I nodded.

  “My family thinks I’m something special. I don’t know if I can believe that. I mean, I can do this mood thing with my hands and I did survive the awful car wreck that killed my parents. Then there’s Geri and Freak.” He faced forward, leaned back against the seat. His hands still wrapped the wheel like he was afraid it would take off. “They were puppies. Came right up to me in the water and tried to drag me out with their teeth.”

  “They rescued you?” I’d read that in the paper Mom had printed.

  “Nah, though that’s the crazy story people gossip about around here. Boy rescued by wolves. They were too young to do much. They did wake me up, though, and it’s possible I could have drowned. But my brothers, aunt and uncles all believe they’re with me still because I carry the soul of Odin.” He finally looked at me again, lifted one dark-blond eyebrow. “You must know the stories.”

  “The warriors who carry the souls of the gods.” I bit my lip, then asked because I had to know. “Do you believe you carry his soul? Can you feel it?”

  He didn’t answer right away and I held my breath so long my chest started to ache.

  “I don’t feel anything other than me.”

  So it wasn’t like mine. He didn’t have a squirming, scary presence inside him that seemed determined to muck up his life. But he was the right future warrior—I knew it. The norn inside me, the one I could very well damned feel, insisted he was. She chose that moment to shift. Goose bumps covered my skin. Maybe my sisters and I felt ours because we were different. Maybe our presence wasn’t needed during Ragnarok, not once the battles began. Shutting my eyes, I rubbed my temples as my headache threatened to come back.

  Trying to figure this out was driving me crazy.

  Vanir let go of the wheel, reached for my hand. I curled still-freezing fingers in his warmer ones.

  “This is going to sound really strange. You’re going to think I’m a complete whack job, but I knew the second I pulled you from that car in the river that you were...I don’t know, supposed to be here. I don’t know why.”

  What could I say? That his soul rider had probably known mine in its lifetime? That it’s possible the goddess I carried inside me had been there when Odin hung, fasting, from Yggdrasil.

  That maybe we were connected because his hand would bring about my death?

  I’d known him for such a small amount of time, but I knew without doubt he would never hurt me. Not on purpose.

  Vanir pulled his hand away and put the truck in gear. Drove onto the road. I was quiet on the entire trip to the store because I couldn’t wrap my mind around the situation, around my growing feelings for him. I hadn’t known him long enough to feel this way, but in my soul—deep, deep down in the depths of my soul—a voice told me that he was worth everything.

  Even my own life.

  Didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight to change that.

  Chapter Nine

  The parking area of the Poteau Walmart looked like a war zone.

  Vanir drove past the fast-food restaurant in front of the superstore and stopped at the back of that lot. The truck engine rumbled down and we both stared into the fray, shocked into silence.

  It looked like it might have started with a fender bender—or several, actually. A black Mustang centered the pileup, like the core of a flower with petals of crashed cars fanning out. Heaps of dirty, oily snow edged the lot. Punching arms and kicking legs kicked up snow in all of them.

  Not far from Vanir’s truck, a redheaded woman raged. She smashed a full bag into another woman’s head. The bag tore, her groceries scattered. She didn’t hesitate. Her fist replaced the sack. The other woman sailed backward into a light pole and didn’t get back up.

  Blood glistened bright on the areas of still-white snow.

  Shopping carts littered the lot.

  Tightening my hands into fists, I chewed on one knuckle and tried to figure out the best move. Wade in and try to stop it or wait it out? “It’s like someone pumped acid into the atmosphere,” I murmured. I’d leaned so close to the windshield my breath had fogged it up. I hurriedly wiped it with my hand. “You only see stuff like this in movies. And look at all the plastic bags.”

  They rode the wind in all directions like small, white, angry ghosts. One sad, ripped victim snagged a gust and caught on our windshield wipers.

  “This is in the prophecies, the breakdown of society.” Vanir pulled out his cell phone—I assume to call the police. “But it’s too early. It’s happening too fast. I’m calling the police,” he confirmed.

  I tapped his arm and pointed at the officers at the edge of the lot. Beating each other up.

  “Wait. I know them.” Vanir suddenly leaned forward. “I know a lot of these people. I have friends out there.” He dropped his phone on the seat, jumped out of the truck and charged in.

  I gaped at his empty seat for a second before turning and smacking my shoulder into the door because I didn’t open it fast enough. Fumbling for the handle, I got my f
ingers to work. I climbed down from the high cab and promptly tripped on a can of green beans. I slipped and flailed my arms, but managed to keep from falling, then blinked at the number of cans and boxed goods peppering the lot.

  One of the white, plastic sacks floated on a breeze and I snagged it from the air, crumpled it in my hand. Two couples to my right screamed at each other—something about stealing. Frowning, I scanned the crowd of swinging fists and feet for Vanir and found him talking to a blond guy around our age. I walked up to them, shoved the sack in my pocket because all the trash receptacles were on their sides, anyway.

  “This is Raven. Raven, Dan.” Vanir pulled me in front of him.

  I immediately felt short between the two tall guys. But also kind of safe from the chaos surrounding us. I nodded and smiled at Dan, then winced when a guy went sailing past us. “Nice town you have here.”

  “This isn’t our town,” Dan murmured, shoving his hands in the pockets of his red coat. “This place isn’t familiar at all. Granted, I haven’t lived here long, but this is like Alt-Oklahoma. People are usually pretty nice—even at Walmart.”

  That wasn’t my usual experience at the store. Dan had friendly green eyes and a nice smile. He reminded me a little of a guy Coral had gone out with.

  “Is Rose here with you?” Vanir asked, stretching his neck to look through the crowd.

  Dan shook his head, a rueful smile twisting one corner. “She went on ahead but she’d be happy to know you asked about her.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. There was so much being left unsaid here I felt like an intruder. I turned to tug on Vanir’s arm. “Would it be okay if I used your phone to call my sister?”

  “Let me walk you back.”

  “No, stay and talk.” I smiled at Dan. “I’ll be fast and keep out of the way.”

  A couple of teenagers brought their fight too close and Vanir and Dan moved to pull them apart. I took that time to run back to his truck, skirting a huge SUV that had pulled into the lot. Just before I reached Vanir’s vehicle, an unbroken jar of something rolled onto my foot. Picking it up, my upper lip lifted. Artichoke hearts. Yuck.

  “Dirty thief!”

  That was my only warning.

  Someone tackled me. Knocked me into the side of the truck. My back crashed into metal. Hard. I caught a glance of a fiery red wig before she backed up and tried to pound my nose. I dodged, ducked and dove to the pavement to get away from her.

  The woman had to be, like, eighty years old.

  Turning onto my back, I rolled when she came after me. “Hey, lady, chill out! I don’t even like artichokes.”

  “You were trying to steal her food! Just like them!” Her eyes bugged out of her head, sweat glistening on her wrinkled forehead despite the frigid temperature. The red hair tilted as her wig slid to the right.

  Her food? What’s up with that? “Listen,” I yelled, jumping to my feet and skipping a few steps left. “I don’t want the food. Take it!”

  “Stupid witch, you think I don’t know what you’re doing here?” She screeched and lunged for me again.

  I stepped to the side and she flew past, slipped on ice and went down. Surprised that I didn’t hear bones crack, I moved to help her. “Please calm down.”

  Her wrinkled face bunched up as she screamed and kicked me. Hit my knee. I went scudding into the truck. This time I came up fighting. Had no choice. I shoved her and ignored the guilt when she sailed back into a pile of black, oily snow. My breath misted as I stood over her. “Stay down. I mean it. You can have all the food.”

  I didn’t think she could get up. She stared at me with a glazed look that made me frown as I hurriedly opened the truck door and swiped Vanir’s phone. The keys still hung from the ignition, so I grabbed those, too, before locking the truck. I put the keys and the phone into the big side pocket of Hallur’s parka.

  Leaving that old woman lying in the snow bothered me, but I also had to fight the temptation to pick up another can and taunt her with it. She was responsible for the new bruises, after all. Instead, I curled my fingers around a shopping cart handle and moved it away from Vanir’s vehicle.

  And that’s when I felt it.

  Magic.

  Tingles started in my fingers. I yanked my hands off the cart handle. Stared at them. There was nothing there, but I lifted my hand to smell them and alarm skittered up my back. Whatever had been there was faint now, but still present. Minty, like peppermint and a faint woody but green smell. And something kind of rank—pungent.

  Wrinkling my nose, I scanned the crowd for Vanir, saw him pulling a big guy off a blond kid. He’d worry if I disappeared. But I had to wash my hands, so I jogged to the burger place. The windows were crammed with people watching the parking lot war. I scurried into the girl’s bathroom. Before washing, I took another big whiff of the scent. Memorized the different smells.

  It took four scrubs to remove them. I dried my hands, then checked under the stalls for feet. Once sure I was alone, I called Coral with Vanir’s cell.

  “What?” she barked into the phone.

  “Coral?” I held out the phone to check the number, because she sounded like Kat.

  “Yeah, I’m in the middle of something and Kat keeps calling. She’s bugging the crap out of me, totally freaked out about what’s happening down here. Sorry, Raven.”

  “In the middle of what?” At least she wasn’t crying—it didn’t sound like her heart had been ripped out like she had this morning.

  “What do you mean, what? Haven’t you been watching the news?”

  “Not today. Are you okay?”

  Her sigh was loud. “I found Taran—”

  “Taran?” I broke in.

  “The warrior I was supposed to find, remember?”

  Sarcasm. Coral was channeling Kat. I frowned. “Are you okay? Really?”

  “I will be. We had to sneak out of his house because the cops told him he couldn’t leave and then a huge wave hit Florida.”

  “A wave? Like a tidal wave? Or a tsunami?” The portents of Ragnarok...three years of winter, roaring seas that lash the land... “Gods, Coral, are you okay? This is happening crazy fast. Too fast. Where are you?”

  “Taran and I busted into a hotel room on the fourth floor of...” She broke off. “I have no idea what hotel we’re in. We just ran with the crowd.”

  “Are you sure this Taran is the one?”

  “Yeah.” She lowered her voice and it sounded hollow, like she’d cupped her hand over the phone. “He’s in the bathroom. Raven, there’s something else going on here. His hammer’s missing and I’m not sure he really gets that he’s carrying Thor’s soul. Even though he has goat friends.”

  “Goat friends?” I blinked, shook my head. “I don’t know about this, Coral. Goats?”

  “Not real goats. Boys. Friends. Josh and Grim Tanner. But they have pointy chins with little beards on them and everything. And you should hear how they talk!”

  Coral looked at the world in a skewered way sometimes, but the god’s goats had been named Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjostr. Tanner was crazy close. A shiver ran down my back. “Why did the cops tell Taran not to leave his house?”

  “Suspicion of assault. Twice. But there wasn’t enough proof to hold him and I think it also had something to do with the fact his dad is a cop. But then the wave came.”

  My stomach knotted. Two assaults? “Um, Coral, maybe you guys should go back into the crowd.”

  “Look, I’m okay. Safe for now. What’s up there? I hear something in your voice.”

  I sniffed my fingers even though I’d washed off all the smell. “Do you know a spell that would have cedar and peppermint?”

  “Did you touch it? Was it oily?”

  “Could have been, but it was dry by the time I got to it. Whatever it is, I think it’s created a
mob riot. Coral, people have lost it—they’re beating the crap out of one another in a Walmart parking lot.”

  “Really—”

  She broke off and I heard her catch her breath.

  “What’s going on there, Coral? Is everything really okay?”

  “No, but if I’m right about your spell, you don’t have time to worry about me. Did you smell anything else? Something kind of bitter?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Myrrh. And I can’t believe you don’t remember those smells from that campground in Kansas. Remember that old Deadhead groupie?”

  The memory hit and I closed my eyes. We’d traveled with that guy two months. Two months of Mom giggling like a schoolgirl while getting pawed by a guy who looked like a member of that eighties band ZZ Top. “But that was a seduction spell. Coral, trust me, the people in this parking lot aren’t interested in hooking up.”

  “It’s gotta be Mom. Sounds like a command spell and it will make people do whatever she wants. She’s used one before. All she has to do is get enough of it into a space, make a suggestion and it’ll spread as long as the oil is a little wet. It can even dry and be pretty powerful.”

  “Suggestion,” I murmured, thinking about the people standing in the restaurant, watching, unaffected. “She must have sprayed it on the carts. But why? Makes no sense.”

  “Sounds like she wants a fight.”

  My heart stopped. “A diversion!” Panic squeezed my chest and I ran out of the bathroom. “Is there an antidote?” I yelled into the phone. I didn’t give a crap what the people in the restaurant thought as I raced past them and through the parking lot toward Walmart.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know! It will fade soon, anyway. But you can’t worry about all those people. All you can do is—”

  “Protect Vanir. Thanks, Coral, I have to go.”

  I didn’t wait for her goodbye, just shoved the phone in my pocket and reached up to make sure the hood was up on the coat. Didn’t want Mom recognizing me before I could find her. My heart started pounding again—so hard it hurt. My lungs got tight when I sucked down too much cold air. I ran, dodging flying fists and feet. And dirty snow. So many people were yelling.