Perfekt Control (The Ære Saga Book 2)

by S. T. Bende

  “Ohmygod, you do?” I squeaked. Did I have to squeak right now? And giggle? Oh, oh, this was the greatest moment ever. Like my birthday and Saint Lucia’s all rolled into one. Brynn, stop giggling!

  “Of course I do.” Henrik rubbed the back of his finger against my cheek, and I giggled again. Seriously, stop it! “I have since the night I took you to your Fall Ball.”

  I toed the ground with my boot. “Seriously. No joke. You’re actually into me?”

  “How could I not be?” Henrik brushed my chin with one finger. “You live a no-holds-barred life, sötnos. Always have. It’s sexy as Helheim, when you’re not on a course to self-destruct the very thing I’ve been working toward for the past century.”

  Henrik’s hand moved down my cheek. He ran the pad of his thumb over my lips, which had formed a small O. He used his finger to lift my chin, closing my mouth and forcing me to meet his eyes.

  “I—” I stammered.

  “Don’t look surprised. You’ve always been it for me. And we can talk all about it over my delicious Swedish pancakes when we get home. But right now, we’ve got some business to take care of, ja?” He nodded at the door.

  Well, sure. Right. The deal with the dragon king needed to be honored. And the Goddess of Love needed to be returned to a friendly realm before the cosmos fell to total chaos. But couldn’t we have this teensy epic moment for just a few more minutes? Maybe a real kiss? Like, one where Henrik kissed me back?

  Henrik chuckled. “Not yet, sötnos. First I’m calling in the spell.”

  My cheeks flamed. “How did you…”

  “You’re picking up Mia’s lousy poker face.” He touched my cheek again. “You haven’t broken your oath yet, and I don’t intend to make you ineligible when Freya promotes you. I’ve got a horse in this race.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed. When Tyr picked up, Henrik said two words. “Muffling spell.” Then he nodded and turned to me with a grin. Shall we? he mouthed.

  Yes. I turned and reached for the handle of the door.

  Henrik wrapped his fingers around my upper arm and spun me around. I looked at him quizzically. The faster we got out of here, the better for all of us, right? But he put a finger to his lips, and tilted his head. Then he mouthed the three words I’d been waiting an eternity for.

  I love you.

  My grin stretched so wide, it hurt my cheeks. Henrik Andersson, unquestionably the most outstanding specimen to come out of Asgard since, well, since ever, loved me. Me! Gods, this was amazing. Phenomenal. Beyond a doubt the greatest moment in the history of—wait, where was he going?

  Henrik wrenched the door open and stepped to the other side. He turned and motioned for me to follow, and I did, skipping giddily after him toward the maze of frozen dragons. When we reached the other side of the bridge, Henrik bent and picked up the sound box. He held out his hand, and I gleefully laced my fingers through his, doing a mental fist bump at the way our hands fit perfectly together. Then I followed him to the area directly beneath the drop spot. He stopped and sent a text to Tyr, and the next moment a beam shot down into the cavern. It wasn’t the Bifrost—if Hel’s explanation was true, we wouldn’t be able to port out until we’d reached the outlands of Helheim—the region we called Niflheim. Instead, the beam was one of the innumerable magic tools in Tyr’s metaphorical pocket. A sort of Asgardian chairlift.

  Ready? Henrik mouthed. Then he stepped right next to the beam of light.

  I nodded, my ponytail bouncing up and down in my enthusiasm. Get me out of here.

  Henrik counted down. One. Two. On three, he pulled me tightly against him and pressed the button on the sound box. At the same time as the dragons burst into motion, he leapt into the beam. I wrapped my arms around his neck, giddy with excitement, and he grinned back at me. Our audio restored, I could hear his beautiful voice as he said, “Let’s go home.”

  We flew, shooting out of the cavern and back to the edge of the ravine that bordered the icy forest of Niflheim. Our landing was abrupt, but I didn’t mind the jarring sensation that radiated from the soles of my boots all the way up my legs. Henrik’s arm was still wrapped around my waist, and I clung to his neck like a heroine in one of Elsa’s cheesy romance novels. If the ache in my cheeks was any indication, I was still grinning like a kid in a candy shop. And if the look on Freya’s face as we approached was any indication, my glee hadn’t escaped her notice.

  “I didn’t kiss him,” I blurted as I leapt from Henrik’s embrace. “I know the rules.” Then I buried my face in Henrik’s chest. Gods, why couldn’t I act cool for once?

  “I know you didn’t.” Freya didn’t sound mad. When I worked up my courage to peek, she was still cradled in Tyr’s arms, and she was smiling. Actually smiling. “Come on, we need to talk. Heimdall? Would you please open the Bifrost?”

  The rainbow bridge shot down and the four of us moved inside.

  “Wait.” Henrik stepped out of the light, scooped a sample of ice into a baggie, and tucked it into his pocket before returning to the Bifrost with a nod.

  “To the safe house,” Tyr ordered. And, after an endless moment of bone suckage and stomach lurching, we were back in Midgard, combat boots steady on the soft sand of the northwest compound.

  Finally.

  “Is it really over?” Freya asked as Tyr set her on her feet. She looked pale and drawn, and not at all the radiant love goddess we knew her to be.

  “It’s really over.” Tyr offered his arm and she took it, walking unsteadily up the steps to the lawn.

  “They’re back!” Mia’s voice rang from inside the beach house as Fang swooped joyfully overhead. My pegasus landed on the sand and pounded across the beach, stopping to nuzzle my cheek as I performed my standard post-Bifrost heave.

  “Sorry, Fang,” I murmured. “I promise I’ll get the hang of it one of these days.”

  Henrik kept a steady hand on my lower back until I could stand. When I did, Fang let out a joyful whinny. “Told you I’d bring her back.” Henrik grinned.

  “Hey. I brought you,” I challenged. “And you still owe me a pie for beating your kill count in Muspelheim.”

  “That I do, Brynnie. That I do.”

  While we spoke, the French doors flung open, and Mia, Elsa, and Forse spilled out onto the porch. They raced down to the lawn, skidding to a stop when they caught sight of Freya’s gaunt cheeks. They each offered a ginger hug, being careful not to jostle our frail friend.

  “Oh, Freya,” Mia tutted. “You must be exhausted. And starving. Can I make you something to eat?”

  Freya clasped Mia’s hands in hers. “I would love something. Hel didn’t have much by way of food. Did you know she really does eat with a utensil she calls Famine? Our teachers didn’t make that up.”

  “She’s really strange,” I replied. Freya’s eyes fell on my hand, once again entwined with Henrik’s. I quickly pulled it away and avoided her gaze.

  “Would you guys give me a moment alone with Brynn and Henrik, please?” Freya asked softly. My insides froze. What was she going to say? Was I in trouble for what I did in Alfheim? Had Brynhild somehow gotten to her? Was I about to get fired? Or worse, reassigned and ordered to stay away from Henrik? I didn’t think I could handle being away from him now that I knew I had a fighting chance of actually having him in my life in the way I’d always wanted him.

  “Of course,” Elsa murmured. She touched my shoulder as she walked by, her warm hand offering reassurance that promptly dissipated when I found myself alone on the grass with Henrik and the goddess who held the keys to my happiness in her extremely slender hands.

  We had to get Freya a sandwich.

  I sucked in a breath, preparing to receive my sentence, but Henrik spoke first.

  “Before you say anything, I need you to know something, Freya. Brynn hasn’t broken her oath. Yes, she tried to kiss me in Alfheim, but it was one-sided. I stood down, just like you asked me to, and didn’t engage.”

  Wait. What? I whirled on Freya. “You knew I
was going to kiss Henrik?”

  “Of course I did.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m the Goddess of Love. I know everything. But before we talk, Brynn, you need to go see Elsa. It’s time you underwent that full healing.” She raised her eyebrows at me, and I gulped. Was I ready? Could I handle revisiting Anja’s death?

  I knew without hesitating the answer to both questions was yes. If I wanted to be with Henrik now or in two centuries from now, or whenever Freya finally lifted my endless chastity, I knew I needed to fully release my fear. And as High Healer, Elsa was the only goddess in the realm who could facilitate a full embracing of love. Here we go.

  I squeezed Henrik’s hand and followed Elsa back to the house. As I walked away, I heard Freya’s soft voice behind me. “Henrik, I need you to take a walk with me.”

  Oh. Gods.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “YOU’RE SURE YOU’RE READY?” Elsa scooted her chair so our knees were a few feet apart.

  “I’m ready. I still feel guilty about Anja’s death—I probably always will. If I’d just told my parents she was still on Midgard, they could have forced her to evacuate like the rest of the Norns, and she’d still be with us. But I know that was her choice to make. And I know she wouldn’t want me to carry the guilt with me forever.”

  “And you know you can’t move forward with love unless you release your fear.” Elsa beamed. “I can see that in your energy. Brynn, you are ready!”

  “I know.” I inhaled slowly. “And I’m ready to accept whatever fate Freya’s going to dole out because of my decision to kiss Henrik. Because even if it takes another six centuries, I know we’ll find a way back to each other. We always do.”

  Elsa’s eyes twinkled. “You sure you need a healing? It sounds like you’ve got this figured out.”

  “I want the healing,” I confirmed. “I’ve put this off too long.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s get started.” Elsa scooted back in her chair and closed her eyes. “Is there anything you want to ask before we start? You know I won’t probe where you don’t want me to.”

  “Same rules as always, right?” I asked.

  “Correct. Everything you share with me is confidential. Everything I do is to help you understand your relation to your world in the clearest possible light. I won’t push in an area you want to remain closed, so don’t worry about letting me too far in; I’ll only see what you want me to. I won’t tell you which choices you should make, though the best option is probably going to be pretty obvious to you. And at the end of the session, if there’s anything we haven’t addressed, just tell me and we’ll make sure we cover it. You ready?”

  “Let’s do this.” I leaned back in my chair and waited.

  “Okay.” Elsa took a slow breath, and I did the same. I knew from experience we were tying our energies to the earth—grounding ourselves so our individual charges had an anchor to this realm. “First, let’s get you back in control of your own energy. You know you can’t control anyone’s choices. But you can control how presently you walk your path. Remember, when you are truly present, there can be no fear.”

  The clairvoyant might have sung a different tune if she’d been truly present with the guardians of Hel.

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Elsa corrected. Oops. Sometimes I forgot she could hear me in these little sessions. “I know I say it all the time, but I want you to really understand. 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. Lock that into your memory, Brynn. It’s important.”

  I nodded.

  “Now let’s get all of that beautiful golden energy back inside you. Do you feel grounded?” Elsa asked.

  “Ja.”

  “Good. Now hold your arms out and draw a circle around your body. It’s your space—nobody else’s. We’re going to bring all of that gorgeous golden energy within this space. Now hold up your arms, like you’re holding a big ball, and place your palms to the sky. Call back your energy from all the places you’ve left it over the past few days. You’ve got so much, it’s very easy for you to leave pieces of yourself behind.”

  I closed my eyes and held up my arms. Then I pictured my room in Arcata, and the kitchen in our little cabin. I pictured Redwood State University’s engineering lab where I’d been working on Barney with Mia and Henrik. I pulled my energy back from the nightmare in the man cave, from watching our friends under attack, from the nausea-inducing trips on the Bifrost, and the mortifying moment in Alfheim. I recalled my energy from our romp in the forest of Muspelheim, and I pulled back the sadness I left behind with Hyro in her cave of solitude. I pulled every last ounce of my energy out of Helheim, including the pity I felt for the goddess trapped within. With each retraction, I felt a prick in my palms, weighing my hands down one memory at a time until it actually felt like I carried the weight of the world in my hands.

  “How does it feel?” Elsa asked.

  “Heavy,” I admitted.

  “I know it does.” Her voice sounded soft. “Now I want you to bring your hands together over your head so they’re almost touching. And I want you to turn them around so your palms are face down, and I want you to push all of that energy straight down into the ground. Right into your circle.” Elsa waited until I’d finished and took another slow breath. I did the same. “Good. How do you feel?”

  “Anchored.”

  “That’s my girl. Now bring your hands to your right foot and draw up the energy of the earth like this.” Elsa waved her hands around her feet. I waved at my right foot, then my left, and mimicked Elsa as I drew my hands up my legs and to my waist. I really did feel more present. We rested with our hands in our laps, breathing slowly together.

  “You ready?” Elsa asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Draw on energy,” Elsa ordered.

  “I just did.”

  “No, that was calling back your excess energy. Now I want you to draw on all the good energy available to you in our worlds. Your parents, your experiments, your physical training. Draw on what Mia’s brought to our lives, her unifying energy and that beautiful gift that is mentoring her. Draw on the love we share as friends—the peace we take from this beach house. Draw on your love for Henrik. Take it all in.”

  I nodded. And then I opened my palms and pictured everything Elsa had described shooting into my open hands. I lapped the positive energy greedily, devouring every bit until my chest puffed and my heart felt like it might burst. It was humbling; I hadn’t realized the absolut excess of positive energy available to me. How did I ever feel like I was alone?

  “Okay. I want you to think your name, and picture a circle that is uniquely yours on one side of a gorge, or a river, or a tree—whatever image feels right to you. Are you doing it?”

  “Yes.” I frowned. This was the part I liked least of all—the part where I had to feel.

  “Good. Now I want you to think of Anja, and picture a circle that’s uniquely hers on the other side of that obstacle. Are you doing it?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. My mind sifted through memories of the beautiful childhood we shared playing together in our backyard, picking flowers for our mom in the summer, and having snowball fights with our dad in the winter. I recalled holding Anja’s hand on my first day of school, pulling strength from my brave big sister. I remembered hours spent sitting on our beds, talking about boys and friends and dreams. Warm tears pooled quickly and rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t bother to wipe them away; I knew what came next.

  “Good girl, Brynnie. You’re doing great,” Elsa encouraged. “Now I want you to say to yourself, ‘I forgive myself for any hurts my actions or inactions may have caused her.’”

  “But I don’t,” I whispered, as the tears fell harder.

  “But you can,” Elsa said softly. “Forgiveness, even self-forgiveness, is yours to give. It’s a choice. One you deserve more than anyone.”

  I choked b
ack a sob. “I for-for-forgive myself,” I stammered, “f-f-f-or any hurts my ac-ac-ac-actions or inactions may have caused her.”

  The enormity of my words settled on my chest, nearly crushing me under their weight.

  “Good. We’re almost through the hard part,” Elsa said. “Now I want you to say to yourself, ‘I forgive her for any hurts her actions or inactions may have caused me.’”

  I repeated the words, my voice cracking as I spoke. The heaviness in my chest pressed against me, making it nearly impossibly to breathe.

  Since my eyes were squeezed firmly shut, I couldn’t see what Elsa was doing, but I heard the flicking of her nails, and I knew the minute she’d unleashed her energy on me. The weight flew off my chest like someone drew a curtain, and my shoulders pulled back in gratitude. Breath filled my lungs in deep gasps, and my chest heaved up and down as I sucked in air. The whole effect was instant, and dizzying, and more than a little overwhelming. It was the buzzing that surprised me the most. Elsa had done minor healings before, but we’d never tackled an issue of this magnitude; I’d never been ready. But now, as she sat there doing whatever it was she was doing with her magical energy powers, my cells begin to vibrate. The tingling started in my face and hands, leaving my skin feeling as if it were on pins and needles in the most pleasant possible way. Then the muscles underneath my skin picked up the vibrations, buzzing with the fervor of a Golden Retriever on Red Bull. And finally, my organs picked up the sensation so that my entire being, from head to toe, was filled with a radiant energy. My breath came in deep gasps, my stomach pushing out with each inhale as a new wave of tears poured down my face. In that moment there was no guilt, no remorse, and not a hint of fear. There was just me. My energy, called fully into my being in the present.

  I might have been one of Freya’s warrior goddesses. But until that moment, I’d had no idea how much power I possessed.