Dead Radiance

by Ayer, T. G.

  The abyss began to call me to the precipice. Loud. Insistent. I gritted my teeth, feeling the solidity, the reality of the pressure, and tried to focus on the here and now.

  I felt a little more limber now, able to walk better, and I shuffled to the door, still unused to the weight of the wings. But, as if on cue, it opened and Sigrun glided into the room along with a rush of cold air. Shivering, I tugged the fur closer.

  "Oh good. You are awake." She smiled.

  A smile that warmed me inside out. I remembered that she'd been a friend to me. She'd helped me through the Initiation just by standing beside me. But it didn't mean she'd been entirely honest with me either.

  A doubtful frown replaced my answering smile, but Sigrun just shook her head.

  "I know you must be upset with me for not telling you what was going to happen, but those are Odin's rules. I really would have told you if I had been allowed," she said, bringing a large wooden tray to a stool by the fire.

  She dragged the stool toward my bed and said, "Sit and eat. You need the strength. I will get the fire going again." She gave a delicate shiver and turned to tend the fire, throwing a few more logs onto it until it blazed happily, giving off the most welcoming toasty warmth.

  I stared at the food. A goblet of gleaming Mead. A plate of bread, still warm and slathered with melting butter. A handful of blood-red cherries and a small bowl of honey. The Mead whispered, and though I worried about the deliciously addictive effect it might have on me, my traitorous tongue was already tracing my lips.

  Naked thirst knifed my belly and my throat ached, parched, as if I'd roamed a desert for weeks. My body shivered and I gave in, reaching for the goblet, ready to gulp the contents of the goblet down.

  "Do not drink the Mead too quickly, Brynhildr. Slow sips will be much better for you, or your stomach may rebel." She smiled as she raised her palms to the fire.

  I folded my quaking fingers around the cup. "Call me Bryn, okay?" I still disliked the old name, and all it implied. I was annoyed that everyone kept using my full name, assuming I'd be happy with it.

  Sigrun frowned, confused for a moment. Then her eyes brightened. "Ah, yes. Bryn is a shortened form of Brynhildr. Yes, the modern human proclivity for shortening names. If it makes you feel more comfortable then I shall call you Bryn. Now drink and eat and rest."

  I sipped the divine liquid and it took all my strength not to swallow everything in one go. The drink was liquid cotton candy and honey straight from the comb. Sweet and warm and delicious.

  "I don't think I could go back to sleep. I feel fine, actually." My eyes darted to the door, and despite the gorgeous drink, I longed to leave this claustrophobic room. Fresh air sounded wonderful, even if it was cold fresh air. "I need to get out of here for a while."

  "Oh, there will be plenty of time to explore and learn about Asgard. But your recuperation is terribly important, Bryn. Not only for your own health. It is important to Odin and the Valkyries too. It is not often we receive a new Valkyrie into our fold. And besides, you need to get strong and prepare for the goddess to arrive. I am sure she is as excited to know that the child of the legendary Brunhilde has joined us in Asgard."

  Content to drink my Mead, I listened to Sigrun's excited ramblings with only half an ear. Not until I'd dripped the last dregs into my mouth did the meaning of her last words register. Child of who? I coughed, sputtered. "Goddess?" I asked.

  "Oh, Freya. She is our goddess. The leader of the Warrior Valkyries. She will lead us into the battle Ragnarok when it comes." Sigrun looked away, but not before fear flitted across her usually cheerful features. She even wrung her hands as she fell silent.

  I wanted to ask her about Brunhilde, and what Ragnarok was and when did she think this battle would arrive, but my head began to swim, the room tilting at odd angles. The Mead must have been drugged. I struggled to keep my eyes open. But it was much more comfortable when I closed them and the world stopped spinning.

  I gave in to the lure of sleep, and crawled under the covers. It was rude to ignore poor Sigrun, but I didn't get a chance to thank her for her help and kindness. As I slipped into the warmth of sleep, I recalled Sigrun's face, the worry and concern in her eyes as she looked at the amber jewel hanging at my throat.

  Chapter 17

  The fog of sleep evaporated, and I tensed as new sounds intruded on my lethargy. Fabric swooshed and rustled, and soft footsteps whispered across the floor. I cracked open an eyelid. A young serving girl, her dark hair braided to frame a plump, cheerful face, stopped in front of the fire and glanced over to me as I stirred. I sighed in relief and yawned, my hammering heart slowly returning to a normal plod.

  "Hi. Who are you?" I asked, propping myself up onto my elbow, with the fur still wrapped tightly around me.

  "My name is Turi. I am your maidservant. Like one of your human lady's maids." She nodded with vigor, but kept the rest of her body oddly still. She seemed skittish, as if she'd be out of the room in a flash if I so much as moved toward her, so I stayed in the bed. I didn't have the heart to tell her we didn't have lady's maids anymore.

  She'd brought a clean dress, white again, and another tray of food. I'd been too sleepy to touch the bread and honey, a gift from Sigrun, but this pie-like creation looked more inviting. I found myself hungry for the first time in such a long time. I tried to recall what my last meal had been but came up blank. It must have been something like Ms. Custer's fried chicken and mashed potatoes, or maybe her unforgettable spaghetti Bolognese.

  My tummy squealed and Turi giggled behind her hands. "You must eat. I have brought you clean clothes. And you may like to change out of your rumpled clothing too." She nodded at my creased dress.

  What I would have preferred was a bath. I already reeked. I'd dripped sweat like a wet sponge during my Initiation and still felt grimy and unclean. My fingers trailed through the oily tendrils of my hair. Eww!

  "I so need a bath," I said, winkling my nose.

  "Oh, Sigrun will take you to the Bathhouse when she gets back from her training. She should be here after you have broken your fast."

  She was nodding again. Slightly annoying now. But I didn't want to be mean by telling her to lower the flames on her happiness fire. I nodded and smiled even though my muscles hurt. I just wanted her to leave so I could dig into that magnificent looking sweet pie.

  She gave a quick, hesitant curtsy and turned to leave, closing the door softly behind her.

  I stared open-mouthed at the closed door, all thoughts of food gone from my mind. The girl had seemed normal enough. Until she'd turned away from me.

  If Turi had surprised me with her kindness and happy glow, she'd surprised me even more with the long, pale swishing tail, which sprouted from her lower back and followed her out the door.

  Strange things had been happening to me. And they just kept getting stranger.

  ***

  With my mind still on the swishing tail, I pulled the tray onto my lap and ate. Delicious. Flaky. Asgard had a master pastry chef hidden away in their kitchens. Since my arrival in this dream world, my taste buds had actually begun to function again. I was relieved, as I'd missed the comfort that food gave me.

  If only Ms. Custer could see me now, she'd be very relieved. My poor foster mom. I wondered what she would be doing right now. Would she be looking for me? Or would she have assumed I'd taken the warning and gone into hiding after witnessing Aidan and his goons in her kitchen?

  Who could've known Aidan would be mixed up with those horrible types? Ms. Custer had been fond of him. Trusted him from the start, and she'd be blaming herself for putting me and the other foster kids in danger. If only I'd had time to tell her about Aidan's reasons for being in Craven. And about the real freak I'd turned out to be. If only. . . .

  This dream-nightmare seemed more real, more concrete to me now than ever. And it terrified me. If I admitted this Asgard hallucination was even one percent real it would mean I'd lose my grip on whatever reality I still retained.
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br />   Lost in thought, I barely noticed Sigrun's arrival. I even missed a significant portion of her conversation as she chattered on, smiling, blabbing away about baths and bathhouses.

  "Hey, hold on. What's a Bathhouse?" I asked, hoping to get a decent answer before she rattled on again.

  Sigrun blushed. "It is the place we go to bathe, get clean. You know, to remove dirt and bad odors from your body."

  "I know what bathing is," I snapped. Her smile fell at the sharpness in my tone, and a dozen guilty pangs stabbed at my conscience. "I'm sorry, I just meant . . . I wanted to know what the Bathhouse was. I've never heard of one before."

  Puzzled, she bit her lip and said, "Oh. Then where do you clean yourself?"

  "It's called a shower." She frowned harder, so I explained. "It's a small space, like a box, and it has water pouring from a tube up above you, and that's how you wash, in the falling water."

  "Oh yes, a waterfall in a box. But how do you relax while you bathe?"

  It was my turn to frown. "Relax? Oh, when I want to relax I use a bathtub."

  "So you have another means of bathing besides the waterfall box?"

  "Yes, it's a bath, actually, but it's in a small private room." She nodded. "So this Bathhouse," I said, "does it have small baths or large ones?"

  "Oh no, it is one large bath. We all bathe together."

  "Together?" I asked.

  She nodded again and smiled at the squeak in my voice.

  Stranger and stranger. Did anyone ever bathe in public groups anymore? I'd read about Roman public baths and that was strange enough, though I suppose any school locker room would be similar in a way. Some girls showered together and other preferred the privacy of the cubicles. North Wood hadn't had the open stalls like a few of the schools I'd been to. Just the cubicles. You had to be pretty confident in your body, even brazen, to shower where everyone could see you. At least, that's what I believed.

  "Okay, let's go see your Bathhouse."

  "Do not forget your clothing and your sandals, Bryn," she sang out as she left the room.

  I grabbed the leather footwear and slipped my feet into them, winding the soft leather strips around and around my ankles and calves until nothing remained to trip me up. My clean white dress in hand, I trotted after her, curious to see what this Bathhouse was all about.

  ***

  I caught up with Sigrun and found she had company. Another Valkyrie stood with her, tapping her toe, a frown marring her beautiful, pale skin. Blond hair, bright blue eyes—she was the epitome of Nordic beauty. Even the ivory feathers of her majestic wings screamed pure beauty, right down to the shimmering silver ends of the feathers.

  The bright orange of her dress added a surprising elegance and style; on a stunner like her, I bet no color would dare to not look good. Only the hard grey glint in her blue eyes marred the beauty. And just like a flawed diamond, she lost a bit of her luster when she smiled. A cold and shadowed smile, so very far from beautiful.

  "If you are about ready, could we please go?" she asked.

  Her voice was mellifluent, a clear, bright singing voice, dulled with the edge of impatience, which seeped out as she spoke. Her wings fluttered and her eyes skimmed over me, head to toe and back again. They stopped at my neck, narrowing coldly as she stared at the pendant. She gestured down the hallway with an irritated flick of her hand and walked away, shoulders stiff and dismissive.

  "Sorry," I said. The apology slipped out. Why was I apologizing to Her Haughtiness anyway? I hadn't asked her to wait for me. But I shut my mouth. She was Sigrun's friend and I'd hate to cause trouble for her.

  "Pshaw! We will not be late, Bryn. Of course, there is no rush. Astrid is just impatient as always." Sigrun brushed off the other girl's annoyance and started walking.

  I followed while the two talked about new oolfer and fenrees, whatever they were. I decided to wait to ask Sigrun my questions later, in private. Astrid put me on edge. The kind of on edge that rubbed me the wrong way, real bad. I didn't trust myself to shut my mouth if she pushed too far.

  My wings shivered at my back, a warm bronze-red that reflected the cool light of the day. I still wasn't sure I could control their fluttering, as they seemed intrinsically linked to my emotions and quivered and shifted in tandem to my anger or my fear.

  We left the monstrous hallways and exited the building. I glanced back and staggered, almost tripping over my sandaled feet. Even the flash of fear that the weight of my wings would tip me over as I lost my balance didn't detract from my sheer awe.

  Grey stone archways and turrets towered impossibly far above us. The building was more than magnificent. It rose high, carved right out of the solid rock of the mountain all the way up to the highest peaks, with some parapets disappearing into the clouds. It was an elegant mess, rocky castles, marble palaces and natural stone beauty melding together to create a masterpiece befitting the god Odin.

  I gaped at the entrance. An archway the height of six men housed two impossibly large stone doors. Then I recalled the actual size of Odin himself when he wasn't in the form of an ancient man. The carved doors were thrown open now, but closed they would be impenetrable.

  A grunt of annoyance, a flutter of wings and an impatient sigh broke through my thoughts.

  "Be nice, Astrid. Remember how you felt the first time you saw the castle of Odin. We have all been entranced before." A hint of steel lay behind the happy words, but Sigrun's own wings remained perfectly still. And I smiled. Good for you, my friend Sigrun. Seemed she wasn't all cotton candy and apple pie, after all.

  I turned and walked toward the girls, who now waited beside a hillock at the side of the castle wall. Approaching from the rear, all I saw was one set of astonishingly beautiful off-white wings and a pair of blue-grey wings the exact shade of soft steel.

  We hurried round the hill and down into a little valley, hidden by trees and rocks twice the size of the average human. The gurgling of water reached our ears. I sped up in anticipation. And was completely surprised.

  A pool, five times larger than your average Olympic-sized pool, covered the entire floor of the valley. It formed a large oval and was constructed of a deep blue marble material veined with gold and silver that sparkled and glittered in the weak sunshine.

  "So, everyone bathes together, hey?" I had to ask. Me and my big mouth. I'd tried to sound nonchalant and sophisticated about it, but my nerves must have shown through.

  "Have you never been to a Bathhouse like ours?" Astrid asked, and I was forced to shake my head in response. "Oh, you will get used to it. Do not worry, Brynhildr."

  She tipped her chin, and stared down her nose at me. As if daring me to meet my fear head on and challenge her. Then she tugged the ties at her neck and waist. Her dress slid off her body and fell to her feet in a marigold pool. She raised one eyebrow and sauntered to the edge of the water, slipping in until she stood neck deep, her wings submerged along with her.

  Funny how I'd assumed they would float.

  She turned and met my eyes. If she'd expected me to bury my mortified head in the sand like an embarrassed ostrich she was sorely mistaken. I squared my shoulders and returned her gaze. Her features tightened, hiding her disappointment. Inside I whooped. Then wondered when it had become so important to me to get one over on another girl. At North Wood, I'd never had time to waste moping over people who didn't like me.

  A soft giggle broke my trance. Sigrun smiled and took my hand, guiding me to a small alcove carved from the same gold- and silver-veined rock. We sat on a beautiful stone seat and I was pleasantly surprised to find the seat was warm. Talk about under-butt heating.

  "Astrid is a bit of an exhibitionist. She has a flair for the dramatic. Do not allow yourself to worry about her. She is too comfortable in her own skin for her own good." Sigrun's smile fell for a second. "She has her fair share of problems. Perhaps her pride is merely her way of making the best of the good things she still possesses."

  "Yeah, I can understand that." I nodded. />
  I snuck a few furtive glances at Astrid, who'd joined a group of three other Valkyries, bathing on the opposite curve of the pool. She'd stripped in front of me, hoping to shock me. I was still surprised I'd taken it so well. Nudity was not my forte. But I hadn't fainted from the shock of seeing so much naked flesh. Though I wouldn't deny that it helped when all the women here had wings that covered their backs from shoulder to calf.

  Honestly, my body had never been a source of appreciation for me. I had boobs where boobs were meant to go, same went for butt and legs and other body parts. I knew my cup size so I could shop for the right bra, went to the beach in summer and was familiar enough with a bikini. But total nudity?

  "You can go in with your dress, you know." Sigrun winked. "It is what I always do."

  Startled, I stared at her. Wow! Talk about a mind reader!

  "Come in and stop staring like that."

  Sigrun bent and untied her leather sandals and walked to the edge of the water. She stepped in slowly and I followed, savoring the blissful warmth as my body luxuriated in the welcome heat.

  Small steps scalloped the edges of the entire pool, each one curved and long enough to seat three people. I settled on the seat, warm water rushing around me, soaking my dress and massaging my arms and legs.

  Behind the seat, hot water rushed at me from little pipes set into the wall. I turned to inspect the holes.

  "That is where the water enters the pool," Sigrun explained. "There are geysers up on the hill, and the water is directed down in hundreds of little pipes. All the pipes join the pool at the edges so the water mixes evenly and nobody gets burned." Sigrun ducked lower to pull off her dress, which she flung to the alcove where we'd sat. A sodden maroon mess splatted to the floor, like a pool of coagulated blood. We both laughed. "Now it is your turn. You have to get naked to get clean."

  I followed her lead and tugged and pulled until my wet dress came off at last. It soon joined Sigrun's with another inelegant splat. I sank into the water, relieved as the heat enveloped me.