Norns of Fate: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Descendants of Thor Trilogy Book Two)

by S. A. Ashdown

  ‘I promise I’ll explain, but not here – anyone could be listening.’

  ‘Then show me. I can almost touch it; your secrets cling to you like mist. It obscures you.’ Ava tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I want to see you as you really are, not what you’re pretending to be.’

  ‘I’m not pretending,’ I said, kissing her knuckles. ‘I’m in love with you, Ava.’

  I waited, ready to meet her lips with mine. Ready for when she said it back.

  I waited in vain. ‘If that’s true, why did you kiss Penny?’

  ‘I didn’t! I mean, I haven’t!’

  ‘But you will.’ Ava stood and walked to the kitchen window, looking out at the front garden, still showered with glass. ‘Maybe you just can’t admit how much you like her. Why else would you lead her coven?’

  I hesitated, which she immediately took as agreement. She stormed into the hall. I ran after her. ‘There’s no one else who can protect me from the Praetoriani! I need them, like it or not.’

  Ava grabbed the bannister. ‘Bollocks. What good have they done you? They’ll be your ruin.’

  Of course, after Penny and Malachi had proposed we invite an army of the undead to ravage Hellingstead, and despite my wishes, they must have conducted the hair raids – some coincidences are too big – trust was the dead dog floating in the water. But still, if I didn’t fish it out of the lake, what was next? ‘Penny has her good points but she isn’t you. If I kiss her, I must have an ulterior motive.’

  Lolita’s voice called weakly from upstairs. I retreated into the kitchen and fetched the third coffee, handing it to Ava. ‘See to your mum. If she’s not well enough to be left, she’ll have to come with us to the Old Vicarage where we can talk.’

  ‘Why can’t you just ward this house?’

  ‘I will, but I need to do it properly. We need to move fast.’

  Ava rubbed her forehead. At least I’d healed her singed eyebrows. ‘Fine, but I’m having a shower first. And dressing Mum. When’s she’s…herself again...she’ll kill me if she finds out I took her somewhere looking like the girl from the Exorcist.’

  I laughed.

  Then wished I didn’t.

  Some things are just too close to the truth.

  Whilst Ava was in the shower, I extracted a handful of rubies and diamonds from under the bed. The figures racked up on my mental calculator. Thousands, tens of thousands. The goddess had left us doomed but rich. These perfect prisms made the old trust fund look like that old lady always counting out coppers at the corner shop.

  At least they’d pay for better windows. ‘That’s Ava’s student loan sorted,’ I whispered.

  We need a bank vault. Hellingstead Hall’s undercrofts, heavily warded, were the perfect storage facility, but that involved asking Father for a favour. Favours put you in debt. To a man like my dad, it wasn’t ideal.

  A man who would willingly plunge off the cliff into the sea.

  Why would he do that? Was he planning it now, as I sat scooping out the rocks under the bed? No, Father had endured the death of his wife. Moving out wouldn’t be enough to drive him literally over the edge. Something else. It must be something else.

  I shot a glance over my shoulder at the middle of the room, where the panoramic vision had played out. Save the Anchor’s Friend. He will save your life and be your end. The first time I’d learned the term ‘Anchor’s Friend’ had been from reading the Gatekeeper Book, the journal passed down through the ages, long before Clemensens were Clemensen. It was code for the amulet, the thing that guarded me from premature death.

  Then Raphael had stolen it.

  But Frigg said he, he will save your life and be your end. An amulet, however powerful, wasn’t an entity in its own right. What if Raphael was the Anchor’s Friend? What if he would stay alive until the moment the amulet was destroyed? Raphael didn’t age. Magic didn’t faze him. Raphael was elemental, part of Jörð herself. If time is a storm whirling through the universe, Raphael existed in the eye, unmoved. The gods didn’t just create beings like Raphael for kicks.

  He had a purpose.

  That purpose was me. Or more accurately, the Gatekeeper. I’d felt it in the cottage, when he’d shown me the photographs that had revealed Ava’s existence. The spark between us made no sense at the time. He had warned me it was his duty to protect the earth, to steady the Gatekeeper’s hand. The amulet had a habit of going missing – it had happened to Father and Uncle Nikolaj.

  But if Raphael keeps stealing it, why does he keep giving it back?

  I piled up the diamonds and rubies and looked around for somewhere to put them, settling on two old shoeboxes I found in Ava’s wardrobe. The jewels filled each box to the top. And if he’s going to save my life, how can he be my end? The end of me, or the Gatekeeper? Is that possible?

  Ava came in, her hair wrapped in a towel. I watched her get dressed – she was still minus a mirror other than the little one on the dresser – but I ignored the excitement induced by the curve of her back.

  I wished I still had my uncle to talk to. If anyone could answer my questions, it would be that Elf. ‘I need to speak to Uncle Nik.’

  Ava turned, hooking her bra up behind her. ‘Oh, I forgot to tell you,’ she said, as she opened her wardrobe. ‘Espen said he’s gone somewhere. Well, he said he’s gone missing but that it’s normal for him.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, not particularly concerned. Nik was flighty at best, a truant at worst. His suitcase remained full year-round. ‘Typical. I’ve got a trial coming up and he doesn’t even care enough to stay in Hellingstead.’ I couldn’t even guarantee he was in Midgard. ‘Or say goodbye.’

  ‘You did leave, right?’ she asked, stepping into a fresh dress, the fabric a swirl of purple and pink that picked up the highlights in her hair. ‘Maybe he felt like you didn’t want him around.’

  ‘Don’t have a choice now, do I? I’ve put the rubies and diamonds in the bottom of your wardrobe by the way. In the shoeboxes.’

  Ava leaned in and lifted the lids, a strangled sound escaping her throat. ‘Not sure I should’ve bothered getting a job.’

  ‘Not sure you can put divine intervention on your tax return,’ I snorted.

  ‘Should we sell them?’

  ‘No, they might come in useful.’

  ‘For what?’

  I sighed. ‘I don’t know. Maybe bribing Lorenzo not to decapitate a Praetoriani judge?’

  ‘That’s not funny,’ Ava said. ‘I’ll get Mum ready.’

  While I waited, I tried to figure out what connected Lorenzo and Praetor Cullen. Nothing on the surface. But after the Hellingstead Hair Raids – as the media had already dubbed it – where did that leave our friendship? I’d healed Anna of terminal cancer at a great cost to myself. I believed he was grateful. He didn’t like Malachi and Penny but I couldn’t rule out that his hatred wasn’t an act to keep my guard down.

  That feeling hurt more than a punch to the gut. Lorenzo was the only male friend I’d ever had. My family had already lied about so many things. I’d hoped he was different.

  Lolita stumbled into the room, as vacant as Penny and Malachi’s servants. Ava held onto her from behind so she didn’t topple over. ‘The only good thing to come out of this,’ I said as I joined them by the door, ‘is that I’ve realised I can throw lightning.’

  ‘Next time, don’t use my mother for target practice.’

  I took them both by the hand. ‘I only hit Frigg with baby bolts. I wouldn’t hurt Lolita.’

  ‘Because she’s the picture of health now, isn’t she?’

  I grimaced. I’d intended to transport the three of us magically to the Old Vicarage. ‘Know what? I think we’ll take the car.’

  17

  Fenrir

  Lolita fell asleep in the back seat as we took the turning before the Old Vicarage. Penny’s car blocked the spot closest to the front porch. I imagined my witches and warlocks thronging the hallway as Ava and I dragged her mother upstairs. The attic
was the safest place for us other than Hellingstead Hall, and I knew that Penny had set up a perimeter around the property, and St. Michael’s, ever since Menelaus was caught lurking in the grounds.

  In fact, no one waited for us. I motioned Ava to stay in the car while I had a quick recce, though I’m not sure if she would’ve agreed to stay if it wasn’t for Lolita being unconscious.

  I approached the front door. The hairs on my forearms bristled. Stopping on the porch, I listened. It’s too quiet.

  The birds, usually the airborne louts of Hellingstead, had either fled or had been silenced. In the distance, I could just make out the humdrum of cars and the movement of waves. Vampires – the wildlife hates them.

  I pocketed my key ring and headed into the fir trees at the edge of the driveway. Ava mouthed something through the window but I held up my hand for her to wait.

  A shadow flashed beyond the tree-line.

  ‘Lorenzo, is that you?’

  ‘Maybe. I’m not so sure anymore.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I said, approaching the direction of his husky growl.

  He stepped out from behind a tree.

  He looked worse than the last time I’d seen him. Worse than the time he’d stumbled into the Old Vicarage whilst Michele was fake-interrogating me. He appeared deflated, hollowed out. Drained. Big sunglasses covered his eyes, but they couldn’t hide the bruising over his cheekbones. What the Hel had happened?

  ‘Did Raphael beat you up?’

  ‘What? No.’

  ‘Did you find him last night?’

  Lorenzo shifted from foot to foot, antsy. This from the guy that usually took statues for inspiration. ‘I…got waylaid.’

  ‘What could be more important than finding Raphael?’

  ‘Dunno.’ His cheek quivered in time with mine. Which twitch was which? It was almost funny.

  ‘What the heck is going on with you, Lorenzo?’ I said, ‘Where in Hel’s name were you last night?’

  He chewed at his nails, murmuring. Great, I already had one loony in the car.

  What had Ava told me? Frigg had shown her the decaying barrier between Hellingstead and something awful. I edged closer and honed in on Lorenzo’s fingers; Gatekeeper vision was better than HD telly. Dark stains congealed in his cuticles and under his bitten nails. ‘You can tell me, whatever it is.’ I doubted if I meant it; Lorenzo was either lying or in trouble – or both.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t pull that shit with me,’ I said.

  He snarled, suddenly in my face. I threw my hands up, ready to defend myself. He dug his hand into his dirty hoodie – like the one from the news – and pulled out an envelope. ‘I don’t fucking know. I do one thing, then I’m blacking out, waking up with nothing, just sick and bloody. And guess what, Theodore?’ He paused for dramatic effect, shoving the letter at my chest. ‘The last two times it happened, I wake up with one of these somewhere on my body. So you tell me, what the heck is going on?’

  I held up the envelope, itching to open it. Was this another diary extract? ‘But you don’t care, do you?’ Lorenzo hissed. ‘You only care about what’s in that envelope.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘I don’t need any of this crap. My life was good before Malachi. Before I met you.’ He stomped around the trees. ‘Jean-Ashley loved me, I didn’t lie to my mum every day, I didn’t feel the impulse to tear people apart with my bare hands and glory in their blood!’

  Couldn’t help it, I flinched at that one. ‘Too much, Prince Theodore? Used to be that I went to bed and woke up in the same place the next day. I didn’t need to carry a bow and arrow. And Raphael, that bloody kid! He could waste all of us with a blink of an eye.’

  I intercepted him on his next loop round the tree. ‘Stop, Lorenzo. I do care. This isn’t easy for me either.’

  ‘They worship you,’ he said. ‘Even Malachi is scared of you. He won’t admit it, but we’re bonded, and I feel him tense up whenever you use magic. For fuck’s sake, you went to the Underworld and came back. You’re basically a god.’ He crouched down, scraping the wet soil with his fingers. ‘Me, I’m dirt.’ He peered into the canopy. ‘Dark Elf or not, Earth’s creatures treat me like the shadow of death.’

  The silence in the trees painfully matched the pause in our conversation.

  ‘I think,’ I said, trying to pitch my words, ‘that…’

  ‘See, you know it’s true. The world hates me.’

  I heard the car door open and shut. I looked round.

  Lorenzo growled. I whipped my head back. ‘Calm down, it’s just Ava.’

  ‘That wasn’t me,’ he said, taking off his sunglasses. Deep red eyes flicked their gaze from me then into the thicket. He twisted on his feet, hunched on all fours. ‘Something’s coming.’

  A sleek body shot out of the trees.

  Barking.

  Lorenzo pounced, feline, landing again on all fours. The face of a Norwegian elkhound confronted him, tongue lapping at the side of its mouth.

  Tail wagging.

  What in Jörð’s name?

  ‘What’s that dog doing here?’ Ava said, appearing at my shoulder. ‘And why is it licking Lorenzo’s face?’

  I opened my mouth and closed it again. The elkhound bounded around Lorenzo and bounced over to me, rubbing its head against my leg. Cautiously, I rubbed its ears, feeling for a collar.

  There was none.

  ‘What are you doing here, little fella?’ I said, tilting my head to check it was a fella. Yup. He sniffed me and sat down, deep brown eyes focusing on mine. Lorenzo stood and walked over, and the mysterious dog rubbed its nose against his hand.

  ‘See, Lorenzo. Not every animal hates you.’

  A smile dawned in his sunset eyes, so at odds with his misery, cresting into an absurd kind of laugh. I stared at the dog, slobbering out of the side of its mouth, and was seized by the same spasm. Ava knelt to stroke the dog. ‘Ignore those nutters,’ she said, ‘though I guess they’re your masters now, until we find your owner.’

  Ava was rewarded with a lick from chin to forehead. She wiped the slobber off her face and grabbed a stray stick. ‘Go fetch,’ she said, laughing now too.

  The elkhound raced off, back by her feet in seconds. ‘I always wanted a dog,’ I said.

  ‘You never had one?’ Ava asked. ‘On an estate like Hellingstead Hall?’

  ‘Father told me they sense magic and it upsets them.’

  Ava raised her eyebrows and stood up. ‘He doesn’t seem to mind,’ she said, as the dog deposited its prize again, this time at Lorenzo’s feet.

  ‘I guess not. A descendant of wolves comes to live with a descendant of Thor and a descendant of Elves.’

  Lorenzo looked dazed, his thoughts darkening again. ‘What shall we call him?’ he said. I touched his wrist, a silent promise to myself to give the vampire a chance. Maybe he did just need someone to care.

  ‘Fenrir is appropriate, I think. Not even the gods can hold a beast like that forever.’

  Ava eyed me. ‘Please tell me he’s not another one of Frigg’s parting gifts.’

  I shrugged. ‘It’s a good name regardless,’ I said, completely avoiding the question. I’d had enough panic attacks for one day, thank you.

  With the coven’s eyes upon me, I carried Lolita over my shoulder up the stairs – not as hard for me as it would be for a sapien, thank Jörð, although it would’ve been more fun towing Ava to my bedroom like that rather than her mother. Still, Thor-like strength definitely came under ‘perk’ in the Gatekeeper package.

  Fenrir kept his nose to my heel all the way to the attic, growling when anyone but Ava and Lorenzo came too close.

  I didn’t bother explaining about Lolita. ‘Theodore, you have been misbehaving,’ said Michele, hollering up the attic steps before I pulled up the drawbridge.

  ‘You must be a bad influence, Micky,’ I said, just as the hatch closed.

  ‘What’s in the letter?’ Ava asked as Loren
zo helped her position Lolita – still fast asleep – on the bed. ‘Another diary extract?’

  I yanked it from my belt where it had been lodged – I didn’t trust Malachi or Penny not to pinch it from my back pocket. Fenrir’s claws tapped over the attic floor. He curled up on the large tatty cushions by the window and sighed through his nose.

  This time, I read it aloud:

  Summer 1986

  We’ve bought a house! More than a house…drumroll…Hellingstead Hall. The look on Da’s face when I showed him the brochure. He thinks Espen is stupid for wanting to live so near the Praetoriani. Talk about paranoid. So what? We all get a Guardian, even if we stay in the Highlands.

  Somerset is so beautiful and it feels like home. Elspeth is settling in – she likes going to the services at St. Michaels, the nearby church. Goddess, let’s hope she doesn’t convert to that daft religion. Anyway, she’s happy. Got so much work to do on the building though. Last owners ran out of money. We’ve decided to wait a while before kids. Espen’s so energetic; he wants to do all the renovation work himself – that way Hellingstead Hall will really be ours.

  I could spend all day on the cliff tops painting the sea.

  We’re building a temple. I agreed that we will marry under his faith, whatever Da says. It’s not much different from my own.

  January 1987

  Espen and I are arguing. I know he’s hiding something. Update (Feb): finally got it out of him. I said I won’t marry him until he tells me the truth. But now…it frightens me. Is this why he doesn’t want kids yet? What if we only have daughters? What happens then? He says it’ll be okay, the…well, I can’t write it down. He says the gene will pass on. It must. We’ve got to be careful. I’ve told Elspeth not to be so friendly with Julian.

  March 1987

  It’s getting worse. Elspeth knows I’m hiding something. So is she – Espen warded the perimeter yesterday after he caught a De Laurentis from St. Michaels crossing our land. I warned Elspeth to stay away from those vampires but she blew up. She doesn’t understand how important it is to keep our head down. If only she knew our secret, but Espen forbids it. She spills her secrets on the bedroom pillow too easily. I hate to say such things of my own sister.