by S. T. Bende
I snuck a glance at Tyr. He lay on the couch, eyes closed as he allowed his body to regenerate. But I knew what he was thinking. He’d know whose energy was all up in my space.
Odin bless him for keeping his mouth shut.
“Brynn’s at an energetic imbalance. I need to recall her energy from all of the places she’s left it behind—Brynn has a lot of energy and she tends to forget to keep it with her.” Elsa tutted. “And I’ll need to eject the foreign energy from her space. That will restore her energetic order so her body can heal itself.”
Mia’s eyes widened. “Where’d you learn that kind of magic?”
Elsa shook her head. “It’s not magic, Mia. It’s energy. Mortals can do it, too.”
“Get. Out.” Mia’s jaw fell open.
I tilted my head. “I’ve never understood that about your race, Mia. You’re so intent on placing everything into identifiable boxes. Even your religions are at war with each other, literally at war, to prove that their god is the true god. It never occurs to humans that one supreme being could reveal Himself in countless ways to countless cultures in the manner each would best understand Him, or that all physical and energetic systems could be interconnected.”
“Their race is young,” Tyr spoke without opening his eyes. “The light elves only reached that level of consciousness a few millennia ago.”
“True,” Elsa agreed. “And a small number of the mortals already understand all of this. It’s just a matter of their being able to open the minds of the others to accept what is.”
As Mia mulled that over, Henrik called from downstairs. “Swedish pancakes are ready! I’ve got lemon-sugar ones, lingonberry ones, and Nutella ones. You’re welcome, folks.”
Tyr sat up. “Check me again, Elsa. I think I’ve regenerated.”
Elsa scooted over so she could take Tyr’s hand in hers. After a moment, she nodded. “You’re all clear. Mia, I’m afraid this is where you’ll need to leave. Take my brother and get out of here. Grab some pancakes, maybe take a walk before bed, talk through everything you’ve just seen and let Tyr help you make sense of it. I need a few minutes alone with Miss Brynn.”
Mia nodded. “Thanks for letting me watch. I have, like, a million more questions, but I guess we’ve got time, right?”
Tyr walked to her side and put a hand on her lower back. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “We have forever. Come on, we can talk over pancakes.” He guided her out of the office, leaving me with the person who could see through all my wounds, physical and otherwise.
Elsa closed the door behind Tyr and moved to stand in front of me. The two of us stared at each other for what felt like forever without blinking. Finally, Elsa gave a small smile, lowered herself onto a chair, and pulled it so she sat right across from me. There was enough space between our knees so we didn’t touch, but we were close enough that I knew our energetic spheres bumped up against each other.
Just like she wanted them to.
“It’s up to you, Brynn. How do you want to play this?” Elsa asked.
“You’re the intuitive one. Shouldn’t you tell me my best path and set me on it?” I asked.
Elsa looked disappointed again. “That’s not how this works, and you know it.”
“I know,” I muttered. “And I realize it’s in everybody’s best interest if I let you fix me and go to Nidavellir with all my ducks in a row, but förbaskat, Elsa, it’s still too raw. I know I’ll have to access those memories in order for you to heal me, and I’m just not ready to relive that all over again. It’s too painful.”
“I can certainly respect that.” Elsa reached out to clasp my hand. “But putting that particular elephant from your past aside, Brynn, there’s a lot going on with you right now. Your energy is all over the place. I can see you’re thinking about the past, and worrying about what Freya’s absence means for your future. You’re living in fear of what was and what might be, and you’re completely ungrounded from the present. That’s the reason you got hurt. That’s the reason Tyr’s afraid to send you back into the field tonight. He can’t see everything I can, but he’s bound to pick up on the fear in your aura.”
“He can see it?”
“It’s really thick,” Elsa confirmed. “Is it more than just… is there more to it than thinking about what happened last time?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. This was so not something I wanted to talk about.
Thankfully with Elsa, not talking was always an option.
Instead, I pushed the image of me kissing Henrik followed by Henrik’s rebuff, toward my friend.
“Mmm,” she murmured, her face impassive. “That’s rough.”
“You think?”
Elsa breathed deeply and released my hand. I opened my eyes and watched as she held her hands out in front of her. She lowered them gently into her lap, then nodded. “You’re concerned about how this is going to affect the friendship,” she surmised.
“Ja.”
“Fair enough. Let’s get you back in control of your own energy. You know you can’t control his choices. But you can control how presently you walk your path. And when you are truly present, there can be no fear.” Elsa smiled.
Clearly, the clairvoyant had never been truly present with a horde of angry fire giants.
“You misunderstand,” Elsa corrected. It was creepy how she could do that. “Fear is the absence of presence. It exists in the past, or the future. But in this moment, this reality, there is only presence. There is only being. There can be no fear.”
“You say that all the time.” I shook my head. “It’s not so easy for me.
“Because you’re good at many things, Brynn Aksel, but owning your energy is not one of them. Ground yourself for me—anchor your body to the earth, and recall all of the energy you’ve scattered around this week.”
I closed my eyes again and forced myself into the moment, opened my palms and pictured each spot I’d spent time, sucking the energy pricks from each of the coordinates.
“Good,” Elsa praised. “Now fully inhabit your space. And draw on the golden energy that is uniquely yours—pull it from above and let it flow through your body until your cells buzz with your unique imprint.”
“You’re healing me,” I complained.
“I’m grounding you,” Elsa corrected. “If I was healing you, you’d know.”
Fine.
“I heard that.” Elsa sighed.
I drew a breath and refocused.
“Good. Now this is your most productive space. This is where you are fully you. And in this now, there is no fear, is there?”
“No,” I admitted. I felt alive. Focused.
I felt powerful.
“Now, I want you to try to inhabit this space all the time. Especially when you leave for Nidavellir. I know it’s hard for you, so until we get to that proper healing, I’m going to give you something to retain this state. But remember, this is like a bandage—a quick fix. The deeper healing requires more work.”
I opened my eyes. Elsa lifted the pitcher from the desk and filled one of the cups with water. She grabbed a small vial out of her healing kit and unscrewed the lid before adding a few drops to the water and handing the cup to me.
“What was that?” I asked after I drank.
“Mimulus essence. This, combined with the grounding, should help keep your fear of losing Henrik’s friendship at bay for a few days. Hopefully that’s all we’ll need to bring our girl home.” Elsa picked up the clear crystal again, and rubbed it between her palms. Then she stood, and packed up her kit. “And after that, when you’re ready to tackle the deeper thing, I’m here. You know where to find me.”
I stood and bent into a stretch. Healings, even minor ones, took it out of me. “Thanks Elsa. It’s a crazy life we lead, ja?”
“Ja,” she agreed. “The Norns only hand out what we can take, but I’ll be honest—there are times when the sheer weight of it all feels unbearable. Sometimes I worry Mia won’t be able to handle it. What�
��s everyday for us is overwhelming to her. I can see that.”
I picked up an errant vial from the desk and placed it in Elsa’s kit. “I understand what you’re saying, but Mia’s a fighter. Every time we give her a new piece of the puzzle, she retreats to internalize it, then comes back more resolved than ever. She’s going to be a force to be reckoned with by the time she fully commits to this. And then whoever’s not on our side better watch out.”
Elsa smiled, and closed her kit. “I hope you’re right, Brynn. We sure could use her energy on our team.”
“Oh, come on.” I cuffed Elsa on the shoulder. “With guardians like us to keep her on the straight and narrow, she’ll be signing on to full-time Asgardian duty in no time.”
“But how?” Elsa walked to the door. She paused with her hand on the knob. “Odin’s never turned a human before. And even if we use anti-aging enchantments, she’s limited by her mortal form.”
“I honestly don’t know, but I wouldn’t count her out.” I shook my head. “I think we’re both going to be surprised by what Mia’s able to do with her gifts—mortal, or otherwise.”
Elsa met my eyes with a wide smile and threw her arms around me. “Be careful out there, Brynn. You’ve got beautiful things to accomplish with that existence of yours.”
I hugged her back, testing my weight on my right leg and exhaling at the absence of pain. Well done, Elsa.
“Keep everyone in check here while I’m gone,” I said. “Once this whole Freya debacle is over, let’s make getting Mia up to speed our top priority. We’re going to need every hand on deck to make sure nothing gets through our defenses again.”
Elsa nodded. “Agreed. Now get out of here. I believe a certain hot god has a fresh plate of hotcakes with your name on them.”
I snorted as I opened the door. “Henrik’s Hotcakes? Is that what we’re calling the Swedish pancakes now?”
Elsa giggled. “I thinking Hottie’s Hotcakes, or possibly Perfekt Pancakes, but yours is good too.”
I wrapped my arm around Elsa’s shoulders and steered her toward the stairs. “You’re trouble, Fredriksen.”
She looked at me with a laugh. “I am Tyr’s sister. What else would you expect?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“ACCORDING TO FORSE, THE dragon guy’s house should be three hundred meters east of the drop site. He’s extremely cautious—he refused to give up any intel unless it was face-to-face. And whatever you do, don’t call him Berling. He prefers Berry.” Henrik held out his forearm as the Bifrost retracted. I shook my head, placing my elbows on my thighs and bending over until the heaving passed.
“You’re going to have to touch me eventually,” Henrik pointed out. “Things can’t be weird with us forever.”
I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand as I stood up. As much as I hoped he was right, I doubted things could ever be normal between us. Henrik grossly underestimated the deeply scarred girl psyche.
“I touched you in Muspelheim,” I said, for the sake of argument.
“If you mean you let me carry you out of the fire giant graveyard because you couldn’t walk, that doesn’t count.”
“Whatever. Which way to Berry?”
Henrik pushed the thin silver frames up the bridge of his nose and jutted his chin. “Should be just over that hill.”
“You know you don’t have to wear your fake glasses. It’s just us.”
“Maybe,” Henrik said. “But I’ve never met the dragon guy, and I want him to think I’m smart.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just open your mouth and start talking. He’ll figure it out pretty quick.”
“Luck favors the prepared, sötnos. Now are you steady enough to walk or do you still feel unwell?”
I glared at Henrik as I stomped across the snow-dusted field. “I’m fine, thank you very much.”
The low chuckle from behind let me know that Henrik followed.
We reached the hill without talking, and paused just below the top to assess the environment. Pink clouds, pastel songbirds, and a light layer of white covered the tapestry of trees.
I snuck a glance at Henrik. He stood at the crest of the hill, one leg in front of the other in a strong stance. One hand rested on the hilt of his sheathed broadsword, while the other shielded his eyes from the twin suns overhead. The light bounced off the waves of his hair, creating a halo effect. He looked every bit the conquering, avenging deity he was.
And he made my black box jump up and down in a dance that showed zero respect to my flimsily erected boundaries.
“I assume Berry’s place is somewhere in the trees?” I bounced on my toes to distract myself. A dense, deciduous forest rested at the base of the slope, its thick-trunked trees barren beneath the frost. A heavy fog settled on this side of the valley, filtering the early morning light. It was beautiful, the way the fog bathed the tree branches in a dim glow. It was the kind of place I’d always imagined Henrik grabbing me by the arms and pushing me up against the—
THWACK!
My wholly inappropriate train of thought came to a screeching halt as a large rock pelted me in the side.
“Look out!” I yelled.
Henrik and I dove for the ground, unsheathing our weapons as we moved. We leapt to our feet, blades out, and came face-to-face with an image so off-putting, I had to force myself not to scream like a Midgardian schoolgirl. A mottled face with beady eyes and pointed teeth sat atop a hunched body so gnarled with age or injury, just looking at it made my bones actually hurt. The creature drew back his fist to launch another rock, and Henrik jumped to action. He ran to the dwarf’s side and wrenched the rock out of his hand.
“Stand down,” Henrik commanded. The dwarf clawed at Henrik’s arm, its yellowing nails leaving thick rake marks across Henrik’s perfect skin. My partner picked the dwarf up by the scruff of the neck.
“Trespassers,” the dwarf called in a shrill voice. The sound made me cringe.
“We’re here by invitation of your king.” Henrik lifted the dwarf higher, and the creature swung his legs in protest. “Should we tell him you’re detaining an ally? I hear a century in the mines is the going rate for treason nowadays.”
The dwarf fell still. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he released his hold on Henrik’s arm. “Proceed,” he said. “But one misstep and…” The dwarf drew a slicing motion across his throat.
“Mmm-hmm.” Henrik set the dwarf on the ground and it scampered off.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“Apparently King Hreidmar didn’t alert the welcome wagon of our arrival.” Henrik put his hand on the hilt of his sword and led the way into the woods. “It’s probably better that way. Even with a hall pass, we’re not exactly anyone’s favorites around here. Asgardians have a reputation for using the dwarves to get what we want.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I muttered as we walked through the trees. Our feet left light prints on the freshly fallen snow. “They’ve made practically every treasure we have—Mjölnir, Megingjörd, Járngreipr… hold up. Do they make things for anyone other than Thor?”
“Plenty,” Henrik confirmed. “And they’ll continue to—we pay them pretty well for their work. But helping us right now, well, they’re just doing it because they like Freya. They always have.”
The wicked dwarves had a soft spot for love. Who knew?
“Is this it?” I pointed at the tiny cottage hidden behind a thick grove of tree trunks. Its grey stone façade fit the cool atmosphere of the forest, and a trail of smoke emitted from its chimney.
“Should be.” Henrik pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and read his tidy scrawl. “Forse says knock nine times and ask for Berry.” He stuffed the paper back in his pocket and walked up to the door. He turned to me and waggled his eyebrows. “Secret code.”
I giggled in spite of myself.
“Care to do the honors?” Henrik offered.
I squared my shoulders and knocked on the thick wooden planks. “Berry? Are you there
?” I kept my voice quiet. By all accounts, Berry’s was the only residence nearby, but apparently dwarves could sneak up on you.
“Who is it?” A hard voice came from the other side of the door.
“We’re friends of Tyr and Forse. They sent us to ask you about the dragons?” We waited for what felt like an hour, but eventually the door cracked open. A tiny creature peeked around the handle, its face every bit as mottled as the one that had attacked Henrik. We appraised each other for a long beat before the door opened all the way and Berry stepped aside.
“Come in,” he growled.
I nodded in gratitude as I stepped inside the little cottage, Henrik close behind. It was impeccably tidy, with a small kitchen off the entrance, a sitting area of sorts straight ahead, and what I assumed was a bedroom behind the door to my left.
Berry hurried to close the door behind us. “Tea?” He grunted.
“Um, yes please.” I offered an unreturned smile. “Thank you.”
Berry shuffled into the sitting area and put a kettle over the fire. He added leaves to a stone mortar, and ground them to a fine dust with a pestle. He portioned the mixture into three cups and waited until the kettle steamed before pouring the water. He held out the cups with a grunt. “Elderflower tea.”
“Thank you.” Henrik took two cups and handed one to me. He set his down on the low table and dug around in his backpack. He pulled out a small satchel and offered it to the dwarf. “Tyr sends these for you—he appreciates your help with this.”
Berry took the satchel from Henrik and peeked inside. His face broke into a terrifying smile as he looked at the contents. Thank Odin he was on our side.
“Tell Tyr it is my honor to help. We will all fall if they keep Love from Asgard.” Berry set the satchel on the mantel over the fire, and climbed into a leather armchair. He raised his mug to his lips. “To Freya,” he saluted.
“To Freya.” We mimicked his motion and sipped the tea. It burned my tongue, but it would have been poor form to refuse Berry’s tribute. The last thing I wanted to do was get on his bad side. Dwarves lived by a very strict code. An eye for an eye. No favor without payment. Honor above all.
