Perfekt Control (The Ære Saga Book 2)

by S. T. Bende

  Tyr narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know. Didn’t you say you were working on a new device? Something that can freeze time?”

  “We are. It’s in the weapons closet, but it’s unfinished. If only we’d been faster with development…” Henrik frowned, his arms again clenching his remarkable biceps. “We ran out of älva dust and we can’t proceed to beta phase without it.”

  “Then I suggest you start in Alfheim.” Tyr raised one eyebrow. “They took Freya right out from under three assassins, Henrik. Whoever they are, they’re good. But if we’d had the advantage of stopping time…” Tyr shook his head. “I’ll transfer the contents of the closet to the compound. Get the älva dust and report back to the safe house. We’ll need to weapon up with every tool in our arsenal.”

  “Affirmative.” Henrik pulled his shoulders back and stood with his fists at his sides while Tyr strode from the room. On the outside, he was the picture of determination. But I’d been obsessed with him for so long, I knew exactly what the twitch in his eye meant.

  Henrik was nervous.

  “What’s the matter, Henrik? Not thrilled to go on a jotun hunt with me?” I furrowed my brow. “Troll hunt? Fire giant hunt?” My fingers framed my waist as I crossed to his side. “Do you have any idea who did this?”

  “You were watching the monitors. Did you see who took her?”

  “No. I slowed the images to micro when I tracked the vacuum disappearance, and those creatures are still nothing more than a black blur. I don’t get it—we modified that camera so it would catch a hundred frames a second. Nobody moves that fast.”

  “Somebody does.” Henrik scratched at the day-old stubble on his chin. “Unless those blobs are just shapeless energy.”

  “Gods, why couldn’t we have had the time freezer ready for today?” I squeezed my stomach harder. “One of us could have activated it and she’d still be here. Ugh. I guess we’re going to Alfheim.”

  Henrik’s eye twitched again. Gotcha.

  “Have you spent much time there?” I asked, innocently.

  Henrik’s knuckles turned white. “I haven’t been there in a long time.”

  That so didn’t answer my question. Unfortunately, my five prep minutes were closing in on four. “Well, if you’ve been reading Tyr’s weekly state-of-the-realm compilations, you’ll know it’s still in a friendly state; one of the light elves or meadow elves or fairies will show us where the newest coffee shops have popped up.” I nudged Henrik with my elbow, and he gave a thin smile. Enough digging. Time to lighten his mood or I’d have a seriously crabby traveling companion on my hands. “Well, you heard the commandant. We’re down to four minutes to pack whatever we might need for Odin knows how long of a trip. And I, for one, have got a slew of hair products to wade through.”

  Henrik raised an eyebrow. “We’re on the brink of war and you’re worried about your hair?”

  “Hei. I’m kidding.” I darted into the hallway. At the foot of the stairs, I turned and gave him a brilliant smile. “I know exactly which products to pack.”

  Henrik chuckled. Mission completed. I darted into my room and threw on my black cargo pants and matching V-neck t-shirt, then tossed a change of clothes, the bare minimum toiletries, and my warm jacket into a backpack. My dagger fit neatly into the side of one combat boot, and I sheathed my rapier at my belt. It was a friendly realm; no need to go in with weapons drawn.

  Though I did throw a second dagger in my other boot, just in case the climate shifted.

  I was at the foot of the stairs in less than two minutes. Tyr joined me sixty seconds later, followed by Henrik, who passed me one of our extra vacuums. I shoved the little box into my backpack as Forse flew through the front door carrying two bags.

  “Elsa keeps emergency bags packed ever since… you know.” He shrugged.

  “She packing for you too, these days?” I teased.

  “Uh…” Forse’s blush stretched from the crew neck of his T-shirt all the way to the roots of his hair.

  “Where are the girls?” Tyr growled. “Elsa, Mia. Get down here. It’s time to go.”

  “We’re coming. I had to make sure I had all my school books. And enough clothes to get me through the season change—you didn’t say how long we’d be gone.” Mia appeared at the top of the stairs, struggling to pull an enormous suitcase.

  Elsa stood behind her, two of Mia’s monogrammed bags in each arm. “Why do you torture me, Tyr? I had to repack the healing box because you couldn’t wait a few extra minutes and let me do my job. You know I’m giving you an exam when we get to the safe house.”

  “Whatever. Fine.” Tyr tapped his foot.

  “Are you relocating permanently?” Henrik stared at the sheer volume of items Mia carried with her. His eyes shifted to my single backpack.

  You’re welcome, I mouthed.

  Tyr blurred up the stairs and back down, bringing Mia in one arm and the bulk of the luggage in the other. Elsa followed at a more dignified pace, carrying the rest of the bags.

  “Everybody outside,” Tyr ordered. “The Bifrost drops in one minute.”

  We hurried through the front door, along the porch and into the wooded grove that shielded the cabin from curious eyes. When we stood a safe distance from the main structure, I hugged my friends.

  “Be safe,” I whispered to Mia as I pulled her close. “Don’t let him boss you around more than usual.”

  “You’re not coming?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m going with Henrik to get the dust we need to finish the time freezer. Tyr’s bringing it to the safe house, so play with it while we’re gone and do whatever adjustments you think are necessary to have it functional when we bring the dust.”

  Mia squeezed me back. “I will. You two take care of each other.” She stepped back and Elsa swooped in, wrapping her arms around me.

  “I’m so sorry, Brynn. I know this brings up bad memories. Your aura’s off. I’ll do an emotional cleansing if you want one when you get back.” Elsa kept her voice low.

  “Thanks. I’m okay.” I spoke through an oversized smile. Fake it ‘til you make it. History never repeated itself… did it?

  “Heimdall.” Tyr’s voice boomed in the clearing. “Open the Bifrost. Two destinations. Northwest compound first. We’re going to the safe house.”

  A brilliant light filled the clearing, so bright my hand flew to my face. I squinted as the colors illuminated the dirt, running the spectrum from red to indigo. Forse and Elsa stepped into the Bifrost, hands clasped and eyes closed. Like me, Elsa thought the transports sucked. She was toying with a remedy to quell the nausea. If I was better at the natural sciences, I’d have volunteered to help. But my strengths, like Henrik’s, were more technologically oriented.

  That didn’t stop me from volunteering to test her Anti-Nausea Bifrost Blend when it was ready.

  With a flash, Elsa and Forse disappeared, and Tyr pushed Mia’s luggage into the circle. He held out a hand and she cautiously took it, shooting me a look that made it clear she was none too thrilled to be traveling by rainbow. Tyr wrapped her tightly in his arms and whispered something in her ear that seemed to calm her. She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. Tyr settled his chin on her forehead and looked at Henrik and me in turn. Before he flashed out of the clearing, he mouthed two words—for ære.

  For honor. It was why we fought—what we strove to protect. It was the very purpose of our immortal existence, and it was the reason Henrik and I stepped willingly into the blinding light once our friends vacated it, knowing full well we might never return to the sleepy little hamlet of Arcata. Because even though we’d built a life there, that life would mean nothing if the very source of love Odin gifted to the realms was really and truly gone. Without Freya, love would turn to hatred. Mortals would surrender to their demons, immortals would forget their sense of purpose, and the realms, one by one, would fall into darkness. It had happened before.

  But it wouldn’t happen again.

  “You r
eady?” I held out my hand, and Henrik took it. His familiar grip was reassuring. Wherever this journey took us, he’d be right there at my side. And so far, there hadn’t been an obstacle we couldn’t tase, implode, or outsmart into submission.

  We really were the perfekt team.

  “Let’s do this. Heimdall, to Alfheim.” Henrik gave a gentle squeeze, and I matched the pressure.

  “To Alfheim,” I echoed.

  Maybe it was my anxiety over the transport, or maybe it was just a trick of the extremely intense light, but I could have sworn Henrik paled as he named our destination. Before I could study him further, Heimdall sent us rocketing through the realms and across the rainbow bridge that served as Asgard’s private highway through the cosmos. The familiar sensation of bones being sucked tight against flesh made me queasy, and Henrik’s clenched jaw made me wonder if he was really upset about Freya… or if there was something more going on.

  Either way, he’d have to put a lock on whatever he felt. If the light wasn’t playing tricks on me, it looked like Heimdall was about to drop us right smack dab into a field filled with meadow elves. And from the looks of things, they weren’t expecting company.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “MY SISTERS, RAISE YOUR hearts to the sun. Raise your consciousness to Mother Goddess, She who nourishes the spirit and encompasses the being.” The white-clad woman opened her arms to the sky, her eyes closed in blissful rapture. A half-dozen identically dressed meadow elves formed a circle around her, mirroring her movements, like a sea of land-dwelling anemone shifting lyrically in the breeze. Asgardian schooling was heavy on the linguistics, so translating the elf’s words was easy enough. Understanding why she was saying them, however, was another matter. Raised consciousness? “There She is. I can feel Her light glowing brighter. Can you feel the elements warming in gratitude? They welcome our worship. They thrive with our blessing. Only through giving your mind, body, and spirit to Mother Goddess can we truly see what is meant to be seen. Can you feel how much brighter the sun shines on us as we give Her our praise?”

  The Bifrost retracted above us while I focused on staying upright. As he always did, Henrik held out his forearm so I had something to hold on to while I gathered my bearings. He rested his other hand on the middle of my back, and I drew on his relaxed energy while I willed my stomach to settle. Henrik knew I hated having a weakness so we never discussed my travel sickness. He just kept us cloaked and let me hold his arm until I stopped heaving.

  Gods, he was romantic. It was so unfair the valkyrie code prohibited me from dating until I reached the rank of captain. Right then all I wanted to do was jump into Henrik’s spectacular arms, lace my fingers through his hair and—

  “Now elevate your consciousness further, up, up, up until you touch the very beams Mother Goddess sends down. Beams of love that envelop the soul in a welcoming embrace.”

  My eyebrows shot up at the meadow elf’s words. Mother Goddess? Soul envelop? These ladies were nuttier than the fruitcake Mia baked at Halloween. They made Midgard’s hippies seem unfortunately uptight.

  “Here, put this on.” Henrik pulled a bracelet out of his backpack and shoved it at me. At the same time, he pushed one over his own wrist. “It’s a charm blocker. Keeps them from getting to you.”

  “Takk,” I whispered gratefully. It’d been a while since my last trip to Alfheim, but I remembered finding myself skipping through the meadow, picking daisies to offer Mother Goddess. Elves had exceptional powers of suggestion.

  “Sorry, ladies. It’s not Mother Sun. The light was just our ride.” Henrik removed our cloak and slipped easily into the elves’ language. He held out his hands and walked calmly toward the circle. I watched his cargo-clad posterior flex with each step, the tight muscles moving back and forth beneath the snugly fitted fabric in a hypnotic pattern. Sigh. “Heimdall must have thought this clearing was empty when he dropped us in. Didn’t mean to disturb your, eh, worship.”

  The circle of meadow elves erupted into positively giddy giggles. The girls bounced up and down, their eyes fixated on Henrik like he was the second coming of their Mother Goddess in a deliciously exquisite, masculine form. And they haven’t even checked out his butt. Good luck, elves.

  “Did you say Heimdall sent you here? That would make you members of the Aesir. My apologies, Asgardians. You must have traveled very far to join us.” The woman in the center bowed, and the rest of the elves stopped giggling and followed suit. Up close I could see why the woman acted as the leader—wisdom lined her wrinkled face, and an air of authority emanated from the top of her greying hair all the way down to her bare feet. She must have had a few centuries on the maidens who gathered around her. They looked like the equivalent of Midgardian high-schoolers, with their glossy curls, sparkling eyes, and smooth skin that shone in the early morning light.

  “No worries.” Henrik gave an easy smile, and the giggles erupted again. I wanted to roll my eyes, but honestly, I couldn’t blame them. When Henrik smiled, he tended to get what he wanted. Popping that dimple was simply unfair.

  The sun was just rising on Alfheim, and the meadow we’d touched down in was dusted with dew. A circle of weeping willows stood like sentinels on the field’s border, guarding a plethora of purple and yellow wildflowers, lavender hyacinths, and those tiny white flowery puffs that looked like snowballs—I could never remember their name. The sky reflected a dusty rose-pink as the sun slowly peeked over the grass-covered mountain. And immediately in front of me, seven meadow elves hiked up their flowing white dresses that didn’t have so much as a hint of a grass stain, and skipped gleefully toward Henrik.

  “You poor thing,” one clucked in a tone so lilting, for a minute I thought she was singing. “You must be exhausted from traveling.”

  “Come with us.” Another beckoned. “Let Mother Goddess nourish your energy. Your levels must be low after your journey from Asgard.”

  I pushed myself closer to Henrik. If his charm blocker failed, I wanted to be right there to pull him out. I had a good idea how the elfster wanted to “nourish” his energy. And if anyone was going to provide that particular service for him, it would be me. Someday. Gods, please, someday. “Why do they assume we came here from Asgard?”

  “We told them Heimdall dropped us in here, so I guess they connected the dots about where we’re from. It wouldn’t occur to them that we were spending time in the mortals’ realm. Most light elves avoid the place, unless they’re low on… uh, reproductive options.”

  That made sense. Alfheim only hosted races of light elves, most of whom were female. This meant they occasionally sought out non-natives to re-populate their species. Beyond biological purposes, the elves tended to avoid outside contact with anyone who wasn’t from Alfheim or Asgard. It was a tactical choice designed to preserve the realm’s security. Not that they needed additional security—Alfheim was rarely under threat, thanks to its residents’ alluring attributes.

  When the light elves swore off violence centuries ago, Odin gifted each race with an entrancing power designed for defense. Their enchantments came from their physical attributes. Meadow elves neutralized an attacker by tossing their hair. The ripples of the movement caused their follicles to emit a hallucinogenic chemical that caused a recipient to feel dizzy. This would slow a pursuer enough that the elves could enchant them into a sleep before running away. Water elves could induce inebriation by flicking their tails at their victim—a particularly dangerous power since it was performed near a body of water and often led to accidental drowning. Solar elves refracted the sun’s rays to distract an enemy, though they rarely needed to—as the second most beautiful residents of Alfheim, male pursuers were, as a rule, so enthralled with the vision of a solar elf, they very rarely attacked.

  But the most dangerous residents of Alfheim were the fairies—the älva. Though non-violent like the rest of the realm, they were devastatingly beautiful, and terrifyingly cunning. They might not cut out the throat of a victim, but they wouldn’t hesitate to l
ay claim to his heart. Älva considered all male visitors to the realm fair game. They only had to breathe on a victim to claim complete and total control of his devotion for a few years.

  Or so I’d read in my textbooks. As a junior valkyrie, my visits here had been brief and void of any drama.

  Until today.

  “Come with us, sir.” One of the younger meadow elves took Henrik by the elbow and pulled him toward her. I reached out and gripped his hand, anchoring him to me. The young elf pinched her lips into a thin line.

  “No sir here.” Henrik laughed. “I’m just a bodyguard. And so is she.” Henrik tilted his head in my direction.

  “Hi.” I raised my free hand in a small wave. “I’m Brynn. This is Henrik. We’re looking for, uh… who exactly are we looking for?” Henrik never told me the name of his älva dust supplier. In fact, he’d only brought home one batch since I’d joined Tyr’s team two years back.

  Henrik looked at the gaggle of elves shooting him goo-goo eyes. “We’re looking for Finnea,” Henrik offered. “Do you guys know where we can find her?”

  The cluster dispersed as the girls scampered behind their leader. The older woman lifted her chin and met Henrik’s gaze. “Are you sure you wish to see Finnea? Perhaps your soul would be better served from engaging in worship with us.” She stressed the last word.

  “Yeah, my soul would be better off doing a lot of things besides tracking down Finnea. But orders are orders. Have you seen her?” The twinkle left Henrik’s eyes. He met the leader’s stare with steely focus.

  “She usually convenes at the waterfall alone. She does not have many friends.” The woman’s mouth turned down in disapproval.

  “Don’t I know it.” Henrik ran his free hand through his hair. “The waterfall’s that way, ja?” He jutted his chin to the right.

  “You are correct.” The woman walked forward and placed her hand on Henrik’s shoulder. “May the peace, and love, and strength of Mother Goddess be with you on your journey. And should you find yourself in need of nourishment… you are always welcome to return to us.” She tossed her long grey hair, and I held my breath. A wave of what I could only describe as love blanketed the grove, enveloping Henrik and me in its warmth. I cringed as I waited for the inevitable pull toward the woman—the one that would bind me under her spell. But the only pull I felt was on my hand, as Henrik led me away from the meadow elves and in the direction of the waterfall.