by T. G. Ayer
Joshua nodded, then let out a sigh and glanced around him at the infirmary. “I know the feeling.” He was about to ask Aimee when the next round of meals would be brought through when someone called out a name that froze his blood.
“Bryn!”
The word had come from a few cots away, spoken by another patient who looked to be in a great deal of pain.
Joshua hurried over to his side, and Aimee followed close behind. The pair came to a standstill at the guy’s bedside where they stood mouths agape in shock.
The boy—or perhaps he was a young man—lay there, tossing his head from side to side, clearly in pain. His forehead was creased with a frown, but it only made the wound on his forehead look worse.
He’d been shot in the middle of his forehead. And Joshua and Aimee shared a look of worry.
“Bryn, you don’t understand,” the guy mumbled again, making Joshua stiffen.
“Do you think he means our Bryn?” whispered Aimee.
Joshua glanced up at her and smiled. “It’s not a common name.”
“You trying to say Aimee is a common name?” she arched an eyebrow.
He shrugged. “It’s very common. Until you spell it A-I-M-E-E. That’s not common, so I think you’re safe,” he deadpanned.
Aimee rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile. She looked so much more relaxed now and Joshua was glad. The only thing was Joshua was no longer relaxed. He stared down at the strange young man with the bullet wound in his forehead. Who was this stranger who called out Bryn’s name in his unconscious ravings? Why had he died such a violent death? And what did that mean for Bryn’s safety?
Joshua felt his stomach tighten.
Bryn.
You had better be safe or so help me I’ll have to hunt you down myself.
Joshua bit down on his jaw as fear ran through him. If she’d gotten mixed up with the wrong type of people—like this guy who’d been shot in the head point blank—Joshua was afraid she’d be in more trouble than she could handle.
And he wasn’t there to protect her.
Chapter 9
When Joshua woke, it was already the next morning.
He shielded his eyes from the sun streaming in through the open doors of the hall of Valhalla. At that point, he was momentarily convinced that this was all insane. How could he really be in Valhalla?
It was all meant to be a myth. A story people made up at some point in the distant past in an attempt to give meaning to life, to explain the mysteries that the human mind could not easily overcome.
Aimee was gone to her training, of course, and Joshua watched a group of warriors troop past his cot. A few looked over at him and nodded, acknowledging him as they passed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being sequestered for so long. But then again, he had been spending a lot of time sleeping.
Aimee had mentioned that the mead had healing properties so he supposed the new recruits were just left alone to get healthy. Maybe there were rules against disturbing the patients.
Joshua smiled inwardly at the thought of being an invalid. He pushed himself to his feet and looked around for one of the serving women. He wasn’t sure what the deal was with the tails and chose to assume they were cosplaying some Norse myth creature.
As if on call, one of the women rushed over, her round cheeks flushed as she came to a stop in front of him.
“How may I help you?” she asked, giving a small bob that he took as a curtsey. For a moment Joshua hesitated. Why would the woman curtsey to him? He was nobody special. Then he cast the thought from his head. He had more important things to think about. Like getting out of the cot and getting clean.
“Do you have somewhere I could shower and get out of these clothes?” he asked, wrinkling his nose as he pulled at his shirt.
The woman let out a soft laugh. “The baths would be where you would usually go but the new retrievals have a small bathing room here. If you are ready I can lead you there?”
Joshua nodded and got to his feet. He was surprised when the woman turned and headed to the back wall toward the kitchens, passing by one of the huge fireplaces. The fire within had been built up high, probably to combat the cold of the stone floor and walls, and it snapped and crackled as he walked by.
The cheery woman stopped a few feet before the entrance to the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder at Joshua and smiled, pointing a long finger at the wall. At first, Joshua squinted at the bare stone, confused, wondering if the woman had memory issues or if she was hazing him in some sort of newly arrived warrior initiation thing.
He was just about to ask what she was meant to be pointing at when the stones in the wall shuddered, then began to shift slowly. A line appeared around a narrow rectangle of stone, deepening until a door had formed out of the wall.
The stone door clicked and then shifted inward, and the serving woman waved him inside. “You will find a clean set of clothing on the shelf and soap in the basket beside the pool. There are two pools. The one to the left is for the males, the one to the right is for the ladies. It is the same for the public bathing pools over the hill.”
Joshua scowled at the idea of separation and the woman grinned and shook her head. “We do not segregate the sexes for the sake of keeping people in their places. It is merely that some of the women are quite modest here, be they einherjar or valkyrie. We do have a common pool that is used as a recreational pool but not for bathing. But you will see for yourself soon enough. For now, I will leave you be, and you can get clean.”
Then she was gone, and the door swung shut, leaving Joshua standing in a small hall. He took the left entrance and found himself inside a stone grotto the size of a basketball court.
On the left, a large sunken pool gave off a steady steam. Bordered by stone boulders in varying shapes and sizes, the interior of the pool received some measure of privacy within the smaller inlets.
Joshua hurried to the row of shelves carved into the far wall and rummaged through the clothing on offer. He found a pair of leather trousers that closed with laces, and a black shirt that was about his size. He took the clothing and a large towel from the enormous pile on the lower shelf with him and walked over to the furthest end of the grotto, setting his garments on the boulder nearest to the water.
At the water’s edge, sat a woven basket containing soaps and loofahs. Soon, Joshua was sliding into the hot water and sighing with pleasure.
The soap was a blend of rose and sandalwood, something no guy on earth would have been caught dead buying or using. The loofah was just the perfect hardness to keep him happy that he was clean. After scrubbing and washing his greasy hair, Joshua settled into a low ledge that appeared to have been carved out to provide seating. The dirty waters seemed to swirl away from him, drawn to the middle of the pool where it spun in an eddy and then disappeared.
Joshua spent the next few moments pondering the different methods that could have been used to clean the waters in such a fashion. In the end, he came up blank, and remained impressed at the ingenuity of the pool’s designer.
After a while, when his skin had begun to wrinkle, Joshua dragged himself from the water with great reluctance. He dried off and changed, then deposited his dirty garments and sodden towel into a large woven basket beside the door. Although he had been concerned at how he was going to exit the magical door, he need not have worried.
The door swung open for him, and he left the humid bathing room and strolled back to his cot, grateful to be clean, and even more satisfied with the relief his muscles felt after the long soak.
When he arrived at the infirmary, Joshua was surprised to see that his furs, sheets, and pillow had been changed. The next few hours passed with Joshua performing Aimee’s role of caring for the patients and ensuring he spoke to them in a low, comforting voice whenever they called out in their sleep.
Aimee returned later in the afternoon, after Joshua had managed one small nap, and had scurried through the infirmary in the direction of the bathroom. She’d offe
red him a tired wave, and an equally exhausted smile as she flitted past the cots.
Joshua had been sitting on his bed, whittling a piece of wood with a small blade. A few hours earlier, one of the passing warriors had tossed a small leather bag to Joshua as he’d walked toward the doors. Though the man had not stopped to speak to him, Joshua had had the sense that the warrior had felt a certain empathy for Joshua and perhaps for the rest of the new recruits as well.
Joshua had busied himself, carving small pieces off the fat block of wood that had been included in the bag. The shape of a car was slowly forming in his palm, and he was surprised to see that the object he was sculpting was a ghost from his former life: his beloved car.
Joshua stiffened for a moment and wondered if it was wise to be dredging up a past that he no longer had contact with. He was tempted to stick the carving under his pillow and forget about it, almost cursing the warrior who’d gifted it to him. But before he could make a move, Aimee sank onto her bed, fresh and pink-cheeked after her bath.
“Psst,” whispered Joshua. When Aimee glanced of him, grinning, he asked, “What’s with the women around here all wearing tails?”
Aimee rolled her eyes. “I know you know your Celtic and Norse myths, Joshua. Surely you know.”
Joshua frowned as he considered on possibility from Norse lore. “A huldra?” But even as he said the name he was shaking his head. “No. I don’t think—”
“Don’t think what? That a huldra isn’t possible?” Aimee lifted an eyebrow.
Joshua sighed. “Right. It’s just I thought they were malicious wood sprites luring innocent men to their deaths.”
“And we’re to believe that like we believe all the warriors are boys.” Aimee smirked as she ran her hand through her blonde hair. Her brown eyes glittered and he knew she was laughing at him, but he was well aware that she was the least unkind person he’d even met. He was happy to be the object of her amusement.
“Is that a car?” Aimee asked suddenly, as she waved a serving girl down to ask for a meal. “Never knew you whittled.”
“Didn’t know myself,” Joshua gave a self-deprecating snort. “Some guy was passing and tossed it to me. He probably knows how boring it is to sit around and do nothing.”
“Everyone goes through this you know.” Aimee’s comforting words were accompanied by a weak smile, and it occurred to Joshua that he’d so easily forgotten that Aimee was also going through the same difficulties, the same tumult of emotion that he was experiencing.
Joshua’s eye flicked around the hall, gaze settling on the warriors near the food fires, laughing, and enjoying their meals. But not all the warriors had been understanding. He let out a huff. “And yet some warriors feel we shouldn’t be treated with kid gloves?”
“You heard?” Aimee smirked, her eyes also casting about the hall, settling momentarily on the tables that Joshua had only moments ago been studying.
“Yeah,” Joshua smiled. “He didn’t seem to be too happy about how we were being cared for.”
“He’s an asshole, to be honest. He’s been in Valhalla for almost a thousand years and is proof that warriors need to only be brave and skilled at battle to enter Valhalla. There is nothing in the fine-print that says the warrior has to be a decent human being.”
Joshua smiled at the harsh tone in the girl’s voice. He was about to respond when the sound of a grunt drifted to them, followed a moment later by the squeak of the cot. The guy with the hole in his forehead was trying to sit up. His skin was waxy, but the hole had to have begun to close.
Joshua remained where he was, as Aimee did too. The guy shifted into a sitting position.
“I’d take it easy if I were you,” said Aimee from her cot.
The guy looked up and studied Aimee’s face for a long moment. Perhaps he’d registered the coolness in her tone. Either that or he was still a little dazed—which wouldn’t be surprising what with the bullet-wound to the head and all.
Joshua glanced over at Aimee and sent her a questioning look. What was she thinking? Still, Joshua didn’t say anything.
“Where am I?” the guy asked, staring around the hall, his eyes wide.
Aimee ignored him. “What do you remember?”
The man hesitated and then lifted a hand to his forehead. “I was shot. I think.”
“And do you remember who you are?” she asked, her tone still cool. Joshua lifted a brow and glared at her. Her response was only a slight shake of her head.
“My name is Aidan Lee.”
“Where are you from, Aidan?”
“I…I’m from Washington DC. And about a dozen places before that.” He rubbed his temple as though he was in pain. Joshua had no doubt that he was.
“No.” Aimee shook her head, not bothering to hide her impatience. “What I meant was where were you when you were shot?”
“Oh. I was in a small town called Craven. Bit of a hell-hole if you ask me.” He mumbled the words, but both Aimee and Joshua had caught it. Neither commented because neither could find anything with which to defend Craven.
“When did you get to Craven?”
“A few weeks ago, I think. I’m not sure now. How long have I been here?”
“A few days. Three, I think. But we won’t know when you died. Sometimes the retrievals take a little longer.”
“Retrievals?”
“Yeah. When the Valkyries go out to fetch the einherjar and bring them here to Valhalla.” Joshua hid a smile at Aimee’s smirk as she revealed all to Aidan, even though she was breaking the rules.
Aidan blanched and then stared around him again. He looked like he was about to keel over, but he gripped tightly to the edge of his cot and scrunched up his eyes.
“What are you talking about?” asked Aidan, scowling and shaking his head.
Aimee smiled, clearly enjoying baiting the poor guy. Joshua wasn’t sure why she was annoyed with the man, but Joshua suspected it had to do with Aidan’s mention of Bryn. Despite his misgivings about both breaking the rules and Aimee pushing the newly recovered warrior, Joshua let her keep going because he too was curious as to what Aidan would say.
“This is Valhalla. You’ve been brought to Asgard to serve as Odin’s warrior in the great battle of Ragnarok.” Aimee had spoken softly, but even Joshua could hear the pride in her voice.
“And who are you all?” Aidan looked over at Joshua. “Are you also a warrior?”
Joshua lifted a brow. “Yes. Apparently I am. And so is she.” He pointed a thumb in Aimee’s direction, having seen the flash of anger on her face at Aidan’s dismissal of her.
“You’re an einherjar?” Aidan asked, clear disdain in his voice. “But you’re a girl.”
Aimee shrugged. “Clearly Odin doesn’t care about my lady bits so...”
Joshua choked on a laugh and turned it into a cough, clearing his throat to say, “Apparently Valhalla isn’t the best place for a misogynist.”
Aidan nodded, but he appeared to have lost interest in their conversation.
“So,” Aimee began. “Who is this Bryn you were calling out to in your sleep?”
Joshua glared at her, mouthing the word subtle, but she merely waved him off.
Aidan straightened, but his face seemed to have gone a few shades paler. “Bryn was...someone I owed a lot to. I had hoped to find a way to tell her the truth, but I never got the chance.”
“What were you involved in?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean how you got killed. You were shot point blank, close range. Not too many people end up being killed like that, not unless they were up to something.”
Aidan shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t into anything...unless you count my father.” Aidan took a long breath and then began to tilt forward. Joshua sprang forward and grabbed him just in time, saving Aidan from face-planting on the stone floor.
He settled Aidan back onto the bed and stood to leave, but the guy grabbed Joshua’s sleeve. “Where are you two from.�
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“The Hell Hole,” Aimee and Joshua said simultaneously.
“Oh,” Aidan replied, frowning. Then he continued as if he didn’t care that he’d insulted their hometown. “Did you know Bryn? I know she was new to town….”
“I met her once. Joshua was her friend.” Aimee’s comment had Aidan shifting to look at Joshua. “You’re the boy who died in the accident?” Aidan stared at Joshua, something dark flickering in his eye. Joshua could have sworn it was jealousy.
Joshua nodded then said, “I hope for your sake that you didn’t endanger her life.” His voice had held a sharp edge of danger to it and he didn’t care when the guy stiffened.
“I hope so too,” said Aidan softly as he began to close his eyes.
“Wait. I have more questions,” Aimee said, lurching forward.
Joshua held up a hand. “We’d better wait until he’s stronger. Whatever happened to him, I think it would have been traumatic. Getting popped in the head is a violent ending. Who knows how he’s going to react as he recovers.”
“But he knows Bryn. Our Bryn. What if the people who shot him are also after Bryn?” asked Aimee, eyes wide with frustration.
Joshua wanted to say that it was a ridiculous idea, but Aimee was only echoing his own thoughts.
“I don’t know. Maybe we are just being melodramatic.”
Aidan moaned again, already deep within the throes of whatever nightmares possessed him. “I didn’t know, Bryn. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what they...” The pair turned to stare at Aidan as he took another breath before his body settled deeper into the cot.
When Joshua looked up, Aimee raised an eyebrow at Joshua. “See what I mean? He was up to something. And just look at him. All sexy dark biker, who knows why he was after her and what he brought to Craven. It seems to me he put her in some kind of danger. Otherwise, why would he be apologizing? I want to get to the bottom of this, even if you don’t.”
“I do, Aimee. I do. But we can’t be rash. If we want him to open up, we need to treat him like we would a friend. Enemies don’t confide in their enemies.”
