Veiled Enchantments

by Deborah Blake

  “Our Ulf candidates are protected and will, I am certain, go on to triumph at their final tests. And on the night of the winter solstice, the people of Gimle will walk proudly before the gathering of the clans with the largest number of Ulf ever assembled from one town.”

  The crowd cheered wildly.

  “This Thanksgiving we will give thanks in truth, so go now to your homes and prepare. This is a good day.”

  Donata clapped with the rest but couldn’t help but worry. She might have solved some of the Ulfhednar’s problems, but she still had to figure out what she was going to tell Clayton Moore to get him off her back, how she was going to stop the Major Anemoi from stalking her, and what the hell she was going to tell Magnus when she finally had the chance to drop the bomb on him that she was pregnant.

  She thought maybe she’d wait and celebrate later. Probably much, much later.

  That night the Torvald household was abuzz with talk of Odin, and Donata never had a moment alone with Magnus. The next two days he was gone before dawn, taking his last two tests, neither of which he was allowed to discuss with her. Apparently only the Ulf who took them knew what those tests were, so the candidates went in unprepared.

  Whatever they were, they were obviously grueling and designed to push those who took them to the limit. By the time Magnus staggered in the door late on Wednesday night, his face was gaunt and his eyes dazed. His clothes were torn and bloodied, as if he’d fought some wild beast in a battle to the death. For all she knew, he had.

  Despite his appearance, however, Magnus’s spirits were high—he’d passed all the tests and would be officially named as Ulf in a ceremony at the winter solstice gathering of clans. Jonah, Lita, Knud, Gunnar, Arvid, and Olaf had all passed as well, now that there were no further ghostly distractions, and when their numbers were added to those who passed the tests in other bear-clan towns and the already existing Ulf from previous years, it seemed likely that the Bear clan would again be the ones to choose a Chieftain for all the Ulfhednar.

  Thanksgiving was likely to be a day of thanks in Gimle after all. Donata just wished she could be as excited as everyone else in the Torvald compound.

  Astrid put some reheated dinner in front of Magnus, beaming proudly, and then left them in the kitchen together. He’d taken a quick shower but looked as though he might drop from exhaustion as soon as he finished shoveling the food into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten for days. Not a good time to share her news. Tomorrow wasn’t looking good either, what with the massive Thanksgiving feast that started early and ran late. As with most Ulfhednar celebrations, it would be a shared event, with most of the town coming together instead of having smaller meals in their own homes.

  Friday should be reasonably low-key as everyone recovered from their late-night revelry. She’d tell him then. Or maybe he’d still be too tired. Saturday might be better.

  “Penny for them,” Magnus said, wiping his mouth and then setting the cloth napkin down on the table. He took a long swig from the mug of beer his mother had brought him along with the venison stew.

  “What?” Donata hadn’t even seen him eat anything after the first few forkfuls.

  “You seem very far away,” Magnus said. “So I offered you a penny for your thoughts.” He put one large, warm hand over hers. “Is something wrong?”

  Lots of things, but nothing she could really discuss with him right now. Well, except for one topic, which they were going to have to broach soon enough anyway.

  “I’m trying to decide if I should head back to the city,” she said, not untruthfully. She’d been pondering the question since the moment she’d handed the bag of rune stones to Halfrida.

  His head went up, sleepy eyes suddenly wide open. “What? Why?”

  Donata made a face at him. “I do have a life there, you know. An apartment, and a cat, and this little thing called a job I should get back to.”

  Assuming she could even perform her duties before the end of her first trimester, which she wasn’t at all sure about, and assuming that calling up the ghosts of dead murder victims was safe for an unborn child. She had a lot of research to do, but she couldn’t do most of it from here. Just another reason to go home.

  “The Chief told you not to come back until after Thanksgiving,” Magnus reminded her.

  “Right,” she said. “And Thanksgiving is tomorrow.”

  Magnus blinked, as though he had somehow lost track of the days. Probably he had, since most of his time lately had been spent in caves and trees and rivers, with all his attention focused on getting through the Ulf trials.

  “So it is.” He was quiet for a minute. “But the Chief said to take at least that long. He didn’t say you had to go back right away. We’ve hardly had any time to spend together. My fault, I know, but I’m done with the training now.” He grinned at her through a scruffy four-day beard. “Besides, you’ve only solved some of the problems I brought you here to deal with. We still have to track down whoever is calling back the ghosts and make them stop.”

  “For all we know, they have stopped,” Donata pointed out. “After all, no one has seen a manifestation since Odin gave you the protective amulets. Besides, now that you’re not so busy, I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself. You don’t need me anymore.”

  Magnus gazed into her eyes. “Are you so sure of that, Donata?” Then he let out a huge yawn that he attempted in vain to cover up with his hand.

  She laughed, trying not to show him that her heart was breaking. “Pretty sure, yeah,” she said. “Remember, my magic didn’t seem to help with the ghost issue anyway.”

  He yawned again. “I can’t argue with you tonight; I’m too tired to even form coherent sentences. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” she said, getting up to put his plate and mug in the sink. “I haven’t made any decisions. I’m just thinking about things.”

  Magnus stood up from the table. “You think too much, ’Nata. I always said so.”

  “And you don’t think enough,” she said with a smile. It had been one of their old arguments, often repeated. “Always jumping in with both feet before considering all the ramifications.” She shoved him in the direction of the doorway. “I suggest you jump into bed now, before you fall over.”

  He gave her a tired grin. “Good idea. Are you going to jump with me?”

  She wished.

  “And have you fall asleep before I’ve even pulled the covers up? I don’t think so.” She gave him another push. It was like trying to move a sequoia.

  He gazed down at her, serious for once. “Don’t be gone when I wake up in the morning,” he said.

  “I won’t be. Your mother has already given me a list of things she wants me to help with tomorrow.”

  “Okay, good. Night, babe.” He kissed her on the forehead and stumbled out of the room.

  But I’m not making any promises for the day after tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Thanksgiving morning was a blur of cooking and running errands. Magnus was still asleep when Astrid sent Donata into Masonville for a few last-minute items, and his mother predicted he’d probably stay that way until it was time for them to all head into the town square.

  “It’s a bear thing,” she explained. “It will help him heal faster. Don’t forget the tomatoes. I hate buying them from the store, but at this time of year, the ones we grew are long gone.” She started peeling potatoes, then looked up. “Are you still here?”

  For the moment, Donata thought, but she took the hint and scooted.

  She spent the entire time in town looking over her shoulder, but there were no signs of West and no calls from Clayton Moore when she turned on her phone to make brief calls to her mother, Doc, and her own answering machine. She wasn’t reassured in either case.

  Back at the house, she was kept busy until right before the family got ready to leave
. She hadn’t had any idea she would be here this long, and hadn’t brought any clothing worthy of a party, but Kari surprised her with the loan of a long red wool dress and warm black tights, and then gave her a big hug.

  “What was that for?” Donata asked, taken aback. “Not that I minded.”

  “Consider it a thank-you for helping my brother,” Kari said. “And maybe an apology for being so rude to you when you first got here. I might be a little bit defensive when it comes to my family.” She ducked her blond head and shrugged.

  “Mama Bear, eh?” Donata said. “I don’t blame you. I don’t always get along with my own family, but I’d fight to the death before I’d see anyone harm them.” That included the new life within her, although she’d barely let herself think about that.

  “You must miss them,” Kari said thoughtfully. “Is it difficult to be away for the holiday?”

  “It is.” Donata swallowed hard around the sudden lump in her throat. “I miss my niece Sophia Gaia the most. I’ve been at every Thanksgiving dinner since she was born.”

  Kari grinned. “I’ll happily loan you the hellions, if that would make you feel better.”

  Donata grinned back. “I didn’t think you knew Magnus calls them that.”

  “Ha!” Kari said. “He’s my younger brother. I know everything.” She looked at Donata speculatively. “I suspect I know some things about him that he doesn’t even know himself.”

  She patted Donata on the back in what was probably supposed to be a gentle gesture but almost knocked Donata off her feet. “Get dressed, Witch. We’ve got a feast to get to.”

  The town square of Gimle had been transformed into a magical wonderland. The meeting hall at the end of the square was lined with rough wood tables and benches, with trestle tables near the door groaning with enough food to feed an army of Shapeshifters. Lanterns and candles lit the interior of the hall, and the square itself was bright with burning torches and the bonfire burning merrily in its center.

  More tables and benches had been set up under canopies woven from tan woolen cloth decorated with Norse symbols and stylized pictures of wild animals and warriors. Smaller bonfires dotted the square here and there in case people needed to get warm, but fortunately the night air, although crisp, was free from snow and not too chilly for the end of November. In the sky above, stars twinkled brightly, as if adding their shine to the decorations.

  Merriment filled both the interior and exterior spaces, bringing them alive with laughter and the sound of voices raised in greeting, as if it had been years since the Ulfhednar had seen their neighbors, instead of days. Children ran everywhere, getting underfoot and probably into trouble, but nobody seemed to mind. Kegs of beer and cider lined the outside wall of the meeting hall, and bottles of mead covered the table next to them. Most folks brought their own wooden plates and cutlery with them, along with metal and ceramic mugs, some of which had clearly been filled more than once before Donata and the Torvalds even got there.

  Ulfhednar played as hard as they worked, and they worked very hard indeed.

  Donata was unexpectedly touched by the warm way most of the townspeople greeted her as they walked through the crowds to the tables of food. In sharp contrast to her initial reception, she was hugged and smacked on the shoulder and generally treated as if she were one of the clan. She’d been braced to be treated like an outsider, and the relief was almost painful when she wasn’t.

  “They’re grateful to you for returning our god to us,” Astrid explained. “Not to mention making it possible for Magnus and the rest to finish the Ulf testing without any more trouble.”

  “Odin was never really gone,” Donata protested. “Just a little . . . distracted. I’m sure he would have answered your calls eventually, even if I hadn’t helped.”

  “But you did help,” Astrid said firmly. “Bears are loyal creatures, and so are Ulfhednar. We never forgive our enemies or forget who our friends are. You are securely in that second category now. Just get used to it.”

  Donata wasn’t sure she would ever get used to having been informally adopted by an entire Ulfhednar town, but she had to admit it made the night a lot more pleasant.

  She was watching Magnus across the room while pretending to focus all of her attention on her food, which was admittedly wonderful. She and the rest of the Torvalds had claimed a space at one of the inside tables, but the hellions had bolted their food and run to join the other children, and Halvor was engaged in some serious conversation two tables down with Halfrida and a few of the other elders. Magnus had eaten, then wandered off to chat with people he hadn’t seen much during his long months of training.

  She loved watching him interact with his people. Donata freely admitted that she was a loner, not inclined to socialize in large groups at all, if she could avoid it. Magnus, on the other hand, was in his element, laughing and joking and giving out those wonderful bear hugs right and left. The other men clearly liked and admired him, and the women, well, they obviously liked and admired him, too, although often in different ways. From where she sat, Donata had seen at least a dozen women curl themselves against his side and gaze up at him flirtatiously. He didn’t even seem to notice, although Donata had a hard time not getting up and standing next to him, just so those other women couldn’t.

  She didn’t have the right, of course, fake engagement or no, so she stayed at the table and nibbled on a piece of turkey that had undoubtedly been brought in by one of the hunters in the room.

  “Here,” Astrid said, breaking into her thoughts and putting a mug of mead down in front of Donata. “I noticed you were just drinking water. You’ll never make it through this whole night without something alcoholic in you.” She chuckled. “Especially if you have to spend most of it watching silly women throwing themselves at Magnus.”

  She wished. “I’m fine,” she said, pushing the tempting mug away. “The food is so delicious, I wouldn’t want anything to distract me from the taste.”

  Astrid peered at Donata dubiously. “That doesn’t make any sense, dear. Why wouldn’t you—“ Sudden understanding dawned on her open face, and she let out a delighted shriek before Donata could stop her. “Great Freya! You’re pregnant, aren’t you? Why didn’t you and Magnus tell me?”

  Donata resisted the temptation to bang her head on the wooden table in front of her. “Shhhh,” she said. “Astrid, please don’t.” But it was too late. All the other women at the table started in with loud congratulations, and it spread through the room like wildfire. Magnus was already striding over before Donata could get a word in edgewise.

  She couldn’t read his expression at all, and her stomach swirled around the food she’d just eaten.

  Halvor came to stand by his wife as she smacked Magnus on the arm and said, “Why didn’t you tell us, Magnus? Didn’t you think we’d be happy for you?”

  Face burning, Donata said quietly, “He didn’t know. I just found out recently and hadn’t had a chance to tell him.”

  “Oh, dear,” Astrid said, clasping her hands over her mouth as if she could take back her untimely announcement. “Whoops. I’m so sorry. It never even occurred to me that it was a secret.”

  Donata sighed. “Not exactly a secret, Astrid. I just wanted to wait to talk to Magnus before telling anyone else.” She looked around the room at all the cheerful smiles aimed in their direction. “I guess that ship has sailed.”

  Halvor shook his head. “My darling wife has many wonderful qualities, but I’m afraid discretion isn’t one of them.” He reached out and clasped his son on the shoulder with one meaty hand. “Not the best way to find out, but congratulations anyway. You’re going to make a terrific father.”

  “I had a good example,” Magnus said calmly, then turned to Donata and said in that same even tone, “Let’s go find someplace a little more private to talk, shall we?”

  Donata stood up and walked through the hall beside him,
her hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to figure out what to say, and worried about what he was feeling. Was he angry? Did he feel betrayed? She wanted to throw up or run away, or both. But she owed it to him to have this conversation.

  They made their way through a sea of congratulations (and only a few openly scowling visages) until they got out the front door and popped around a corner of the building where there was a little distance between them and the revelry, although the sound of an impromptu wrestling match filtered back through the shrubbery.

  “Is it true, ’Nata? Are you really pregnant?” Magnus’s voice didn’t give away any emotion either, leaving her with no clue as to what he wanted the answer to be.

  She pressed one hand against her still-flat stomach. “I am. I only found out about a week ago, and with everything going on, there was never a good time to tell you. I’m really sorry you had to find out the way you did.”

  He let out a small chuckle. “When I told you that everyone in this town knows everything about everyone else, you probably thought I was kidding.” He sighed, leaning in and kissing her tenderly. “I admit, I would rather have heard about it directly from you, instead of in the middle of a room full of my friends and family, but I’m still just as thrilled.”

  “Thrilled?” Her voice might have gone up an octave. “You’re thrilled?”

  He sounded surprised. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?” Magnus leaned down to gaze into her eyes. “You’re okay, aren’t you? I mean, you’re not having any problems?” His brow wrinkled. “I wasn’t even sure that Witches and Ulfhednar could have offspring together. It’s safe, isn’t it? It’s not going to harm you?”

  “I’m fine, as far as I can tell. The doctor I saw in town seemed to think everything looked fine, although of course she’s a Human, not a Paranormal. I’ll feel better when I get the okay from a Witch healer, but everything feels all right. I’m only a month or two along, so I probably wouldn’t even have realized I was pregnant if the baby hadn’t been interfering with my ability to do magic.” She gave him a wry grin. “Apparently the reason I couldn’t summon your ghosts was because some Witches have problems controlling their gifts during the first trimester.”