Empty Altars

by Judith Post

  "Good idea." Inga turned her back to the massacre on the beach.

  Jorunda laced his arm around her waist and led her toward the woods. Every Norse celebrated the death of a beached whale. They ate the blubber and used the oil. Many could eat for weeks from its flesh. But comparing a whale to a herring was too much of a leap for her.

  Freya hesitated. “How can you think of food right now?”

  “Gathering salt is hard work. It made me hungry.” Tyr’s gaze darted to Inga, then he reached for Diana’s hand to lead her on the path.

  Diana tilted her head to study him. Lunch was unusual for the Norse. They usually ate only two meals a day—breakfast after chores had been started and a late supper when the day was finished. He wasn’t hungry. He was trying to distract Inga, and she liked him for that.

  “What?” he asked, catching her watching him.

  She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sizing me up?”

  “For what?”

  “To see how I’d fit in your life?”

  “You don’t. You live in this meadow and Asgaard. I live in New York. Two different worlds.”

  He grinned. “We’re gods. Anything’s possible.”

  “And I thought the Norse were practical.”

  A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, but he let her comment pass.

  On the narrow path, Jorunda stayed by Inga's side, and Freya brought up the rear, content to be on her own. Probably watching the two couples ahead of her, Diana thought, enjoying her supposed handiwork. They were almost to their marble house when a young man stumbled out of the woods toward them. He wore faded blue jeans and a stained, white t-shirt.

  "Hello?" He looked around, confused.

  Freya pulled her short sword and aimed the tip his way. "Come no closer," she warned. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

  He looked at Diana, dressed in jeans as he was, then stared in bewilderment at the others in their Norse garb. "I was mowing my yard, and all of a sudden, I was in a woods. Where am I?"

  "Your name?" Freya insisted.

  Inga took a step toward him. "Are you all right?"

  Diana grabbed her shoulder. "Let Freya handle this."

  The man rubbed a hand through his spiky, brown hair. "Peta Smith. Can you help me? I think I'm lost."

  Freya held her ground. "Where do you live?"

  "Midgard."

  Tyr pulled his broadsword and took a step toward him. "We, in the meadow, use that name. No modern mortal does."

  When Peta realized his mistake, his lips curled back in a snarl. His straight, white teeth turned to sharp points. As Diana watched, his body elongated into a long, serpentine shape on short, sturdy legs. His neck stretched, and his face lengthened. In less than a minute, she was looking at a dragon.

  "A shape shifter," Freya said.

  "A what?" Diana couldn't believe her eyes. She rubbed them, as though she could blink the young man back into his human form.

  Peta opened his mouth to belch fire at them. Diana threw up a hand to form a protective shield. Tyr waited for the flames to die, then sprang forward and slashed at the dragon's throat. An angry wound opened. Jorunda jabbed at the dragon's leg. Blood oozed from the hole. Peta snapped at them, but Diana cast a spell and bound his jaws. Peta whisked his tail, trying to knock the warriors to the ground. They dodged out of the way. Diana threw energy at the dragon's chest.

  Peta staggered backward. A char mark brought blisters. He unfurled leathery wings, but couldn't fly. The trees were too thick. Before Tyr could attack again, he turned, knocking down trees, and ran for it. Tyr chased after him, but as soon as there was enough space, the dragon took to the air and kept going. Peta flew to the cliff line, then dove.

  "One of Heid's pets," Tyr said. "She won't be happy with him. Or her hellhounds either, for that matter."

  "Poor her." Sarcasm dripped from Freya's voice. "What will she come up with next? Sea serpents?"

  "What was its natural shape—a man or a dragon?" Diana asked.

  "Dragon." Freya clucked her tongue. "The old ones have magic of their own and can shift. We Seidre learned from them, when gods and dragons co-existed in peace."

  Diana had tangled with dragons before, but she'd never met one like Peta. "How many old ones are still around?"

  "Not that many, but Heid obviously found one."

  Tyr slid his sword back into its scabbard. "Most dragons keep to themselves. I haven't seen one for centuries."

  And a good thing, too. Diana asked, "Why would this one lower himself to work with Heid?"

  Freya had no answer. "Perhaps she's convinced the dragons that if she rids the world of mortals, their lives will be better."

  "Maybe." Diana wasn't convinced. "Dragons are intelligent creatures, far superior to mortals. It's hard to believe they'd listen to or trust a dark witch."

  "Things have changed," Freya said. "Giantland is in turmoil. Some of the other lands are in chaos too. Who knows what Heid told them?"

  Diana made a mental note to check on the island she'd provided for them, to see if it was still a safe hold for their breed.

  Tyr looked satisfied with himself, regardless. "The thing is, so far, no matter what Heid's thrown at us, we've stayed one step ahead of her. She can't be happy about that." He turned to Diana. "If you were Heid, what would you try next?"

  She said the first thing that came to mind. "I'd have a shape shifter turn into someone you know, someone you trust."

  Inga stared. "Can Heid do that?"

  "She can't, but she could easily have the dragon return as someone else," Freya said.

  "Not if she waits until tomorrow morning." Diana's voice was firm. Only one spell performed that kind of magic, and she could block it.

  Tyr grinned. "You can protect us from that, right?"

  "It'll take a minute. I have to make a wafer for each person in the meadow to eat, but it can be done. Who's ready to help me bake?"

  "I used to help my mom with her bread when I was a small boy," Jorunda said, breaking his silence. Diana admired the fact that the warrior was a man of few words. At the moment, he sounded almost happy to pull kitchen duty.

  Tyr looked at his one hand. "I can stir. I suck at kneading."

  Diana laughed. "Then we'd better get busy. We have a lot of wafers to make." Anticipation bubbled inside her. She hated waiting. She chafed at playing guessing games. This was something she could do. And it would piss Heid off. She loved it!

  Chapter 18

  Diana had forgotten how satisfying it was to spend a day doing ordinary things. And she learned how distracting it was to have five people working in a kitchen together.

  "No eggs?" Jorunda complained. "My mother always put eggs in her bread."

  Diana sighed. "These are wafers—flat. We don't need eggs."

  He looked at Inga's outdoor oven, made of stones. "Do you bake bread?" he asked.

  "A loaf a day."

  His shoulders relaxed. "Do you put eggs in yours?"

  "One egg, yes."

  He smiled.

  Tyr rolled his eyes. "Can we concentrate? Inga, you're in charge of flour."

  "I measured ten cups."

  "What else do we need?" Freya was busy gathering ingredients.

  "Flour, salt, and lard," Diana said. "And magic."

  "Where do you get that?" Jorunda asked.

  "I bespell the water we add."

  They stirred, kneaded, rolled, and cut. They cooked the thin slices of flat bread over a grill instead of in an oven. Then they broke the crisp rounds into small pieces.

  "Every person, god, goddess, or whatever's a friend of ours gets one," Diana said.

  Jorunda took the first one. He placed it on his tongue and savored it. "Not bad. Not bread, but tasty."

  "I can make it tasty," Diana said, "but not for this spell."

  The others tried it, as did Diana.

  "This would be good with cheese," Tyr decided. "Especially a soft cheese."

  "Or a dip," Diana s
aid.

  He frowned.

  "Someday, I'll show you, but first things first. Each person, giant, and witch needs to taste one of these."

  Tyr gathered them into baskets. "Come back with us to pass them out. Then Jorunda and I will grill fish for you for supper. You've cooked all day. Tonight will be our treat."

  "We forgot lunch." Freya looked surprised.

  "We were too busy with the wafers," Jorunda said.

  Inga's eyes sparkled with excitement. "All of this cooking has made me hungry. I love fish."

  Diana huffed. Inga loved spending time with Jorunda. Whether it was to eat fish or scour pots made no difference.

  Freya and Diana looked at each other, and Freya said, "Why not? We can pass out wafers while the men cook. We'll all get done faster."

  They dawdled on their way through the woods, stopping to look at wild flowers, searching for mushrooms, and watching a fawn run to its mother. When they reached the village, two guards opened the gates to them, and they went inside.

  Jorunda explained to his fellow warriors what had happened with the young man in the woods. "Diana has made wafers for each person in the village. Heid won't be able to use anyone's visage here for shape-shifting with Diana's magic to protect us."

  Diana couldn't believe it when the guards nodded and went to collect every person who lived inside the gates. No questions. No arguments. And the warriors proved to be efficient too. They organized the villagers into three lines—one for Freya, another for Inga, and the last for Diana. Another guard checked off each person served.

  The wafers were nearly gone when the last group joined the lines. These mortals clearly came from Griswold's longhouse. They wore clothes made of finer fabrics. They stood straight, with fewer wrinkles, not beaten down by hard labor and too much time in the sun.

  A middle-aged man, dressed better than most, came to Diana. She offered him the plate, and he placed a wafer on his tongue. Immediately, he began to shift. Silver-gray fur sprouted from his pores before he dropped to all fours. A wolf growled and snapped at her. It ran toward the high, pointed logs of the fence, leapt, but didn't make it. It impaled itself on one of the spikes, howling in misery.

  "Help it!" Inga cried. "It's suffering."

  Tyr and Jorunda came on the run. They drew their swords.

  No good would come from keeping the wolf alive. Diana turned and blasted it with enough energy to release it from its pain. She half-expected it to return to human form in death, but it remained a wolf. Clearly, that was its true shape, and it only became human to live inside the village and to report to Heid. Diana looked at Tyr. "I think we found one of your traitors. Did you know this man?"

  Tyr shook his head. "No. Jorunda?"

  "He's Griswold's scribe. He spent most of his time reading or writing."

  "And he might have known Snorri and his daughter?" Diana asked.

  "Undoubtedly. He lived in Griswold's longhouse."

  "Then he probably introduced them to Heid." Diana started to chew her bottom lip, but caught herself. She wouldn’t have any skin left. "I wonder how many others he led to her."

  Freya gave out her last wafer and rubbed her arms. "Why did the man take the wafer if he was a shape shifter? Surely he knew he'd be found out."

  Good question. Diana was wondering that herself. She looked at the guards. "What did you tell people about the wafers?"

  The guard nearest her shifted his feet nervously. "I told them the wafers would protect them from being harmed by magic."

  "Brilliant!" Diana nodded. "Our shape shifter thought if he swallowed a wafer, I couldn't harm him and neither could Heid."

  The guard looked worried. "I misunderstood what the wafers would…."

  "You've done us a favor," Tyr told him. "We thank you."

  The man looked relieved.

  Freya sagged. "I've had enough magic for one day. I've had enough of everything. Are we nearly done?"

  Inga handed the last person in line the one, remaining wafer on her tray.

  Diana counted how many were on her plate. "A dozen. More than enough to serve the giants and witches in the meadow and another one for Griswold. I kept some at home to deliver to the farms tomorrow." She started for the gate. "I'll be back soon. Once our giants and witches are safe, I'll be ready for my meal."

  Her chore didn't take long. After telling their new allies about the shape shifter in the woods and how the wafers would protect them, each was ready to swallow one. When she returned to the village, she went straight to Griswold's longhouse. The chieftain stared at the wafer she offered him suspiciously.

  "I don't hold much by witch magic," he said.

  Diana glanced at Tyr. “You told him about his scribe?”

  “You cast an illusion on him,” Griswold growled. “I’ve known Dorkell since he was a small boy. You changed him into a wild beast.”

  "Shape shifting isn’t one of my gifts. It’s Freya’s. But you’re obviously wiser than magic and runes. You took Inga in spite of Gudrun's reading." Diana noticed Jon, who always accompanied his chieftain, jerk with surprise. She didn't care. She was tired of being insulted by Griswold. It was time the man knew his place.

  Griswold glared. "I had my reasons, and I'd rather not swallow one of these."

  "It's that or have us question you every time we meet you." Tyr's voice could cut glass. "That's the only way we'll know if you're the true Griswold or not."

  The chieftain frowned. "What does this do again?"

  "It makes it so that Heid can't use your visage for a shape shifter. No one can pretend to be you who's not."

  He huffed unhappily. "Have you taken one, Jon?"

  The dark warrior nodded. "It will protect me."

  "Very well then. Do it." Griswold parted his lips.

  Diana placed the wafer on his tongue and he swallowed it. He made a face as though she was poisoning him. Too bad he didn't choke on it. "You were the last one," she said. "Everyone in the village is protected now."

  He gave a grunt and returned to his chambers on Jon's arm. Ungrateful mortal! She thought of a jumble of words—a wart on the end of his nose, a limp, a hunchback—but pushed them all aside. She didn't like Griswold, but he was useful at the moment. And that's the only good thing she could say for him.

  When she went to the dining room, Jorunda was carrying in a plate spread with different types of fish—herring, smelt, haddock, and salmon—all grilled to perfection. Saliva pooled in Diana's mouth. Rounds of bread sat on the table, along with butter and honey. Manners be damned. The Norse waited too long between meals. She was starving. She grabbed for the bread.

  On the walk home that night, Diana sighed. "We don't have anything we have to do tomorrow, right? It's time Inga learned her runes."

  Freya nodded. "There are the wafers for the farmers, but we can deliver those later in the day. A late start sounds perfect. If Heid so much as sneezes in our direction, I vote we send your birds to crap on her."

  Diana blinked at the odd statement, then couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. Inga tried to be polite, but lost the battle. She laughed too. Freya joined in.

  The air grew cooler as the sun sank lower in the sky. Diana could almost feel the problems of the day tumbling to the wayside as they strolled together, talking. When they reached the marble house, they sank onto its steps and gazed at the evening stars.

  "Do you believe in destiny?" Inga asked, her eyes on the Big Dipper. "Do stars portend our futures?"

  "Not the stars. The planets. They foretell our journey." Diana pointed to Jupiter, blazing brightly. "The ups and downs, the seasons of ease and hardship, are all written before we're born."

  "So Gudrun's bones read what the planets already ordained?"

  "No, more than that. Bones are magic. They see things we can't explain. Only our journey's planned. What we make of it and ourselves is up to us."

  Inga sighed. "The heavens make me feel small."

  "Life is humbling," Diana agreed.

 
"What if Gudrun believed in me and I fail her? What if I don't live up to my destiny?"

  Freya leaned back against a marble column. "All anyone can do is try, even gods."

  Inga's expression turned thoughtful. "We've done that, all of us. We've given it all we've got."

  "More than Heid expected." Freya's tone held grim pleasure. "Heid's always worked alone. She formed a coven and joined with giants to beat us. She didn't think we'd find help too."

  Diana yawned. She patted Inga's arm. "It's time for another surprise—tomorrow, you do your first reading."

  "A reading for what?" Inga asked.

  "We'll decide that when it's time. I've taught you enough of the runes. Now you have to make them your own."

  "But…."

  Diana put up a hand. "I'm too tired to argue. You'll lose anyway. Get some sleep. You'll need to focus in the morning."

  Freya and Inga started to go indoors. They paused when Diana didn't join them.

  "You're tired," Freya said. "Come to bed."

  "In a minute. The night restores me."

  Freya nodded. "We'll leave you in peace then. See you tomorrow."

  Chapter 19

  Diana's eyes felt heavy. She'd worked into the early hours of the morning. Noir had come to help, and now the damned cat refused to wake up.

  She poked him to annoy him. "Move it, feline. This is a big day. Inga's doing her first reading."

  He opened a yellow eye, yawned, and closed it again.

  She was tempted to pick him up and cart him into the kitchen, but decided against it. When Noir was in a pissy mood, he was impossible to live with. Instead, she gave him the middle finger and tramped to the wooden table, alone. Inga and Freya were already there.

  "You're up early," she told her fellow goddess.

  Freya licked her lips. "I heard Inga moving around out here, so I came to join her."

  Inga tore off a chunk of bread and swallowed it down with a gulp of milk. "What do you want? Bread? Cheese?" Nervous energy roiled off her. The girl was looking forward to her first reading as much as most women looked forward to a pap smear.

  Diana went to the ceramic jar that held wine and poured it to the rim of her goblet.