Collide and Seek

by Sara C. Roethle

  At first she only saw me and Alaric and she looked confused, then she turned around fully and saw Mikael, standing almost meekly off to one side. At the sight of him she said something blandly in their language.

  Mikael took a deep breath then began speaking rapidly back to her. Eventually both their voices raised to an uncomfortable volume.

  “Translation, please?” I whispered to Alaric as we backed ourselves into a corner.

  One of the cows reached out and nibbled at my damp sleeve as I waited for Alaric to answer me. He was quiet for a moment, listening to what was being said.

  Finally he looked to me and answered, “Apparently we've arrived in a time where they have already parted ways. Erykah didn't expect him to return, and is quite upset that he did.”

  I opened my mouth into an oh of understanding. “I can't say I blame her for feeling that way,” I whispered.

  The cow nipped at my sleeve again. I shifted one hand to hold onto my pelt, then reached back with the other to pet it. Erykah eyed me sharply and I quickly retracted my hand from the animal's fuzzy forehead.

  Erykah spoke rapidly as she turned away from Mikael to approach me. I tried to back away, but was blocked by the cow pen. Soon enough she had reached me. She lifted her hand toward my throat and I leaned away, scared despite the fact that she was much smaller than me.

  She tsked and snapped her fingers at me until I straightened, then she gently pulled the charm free of my shirt. She tsked again, looking at the little key in disgust before letting it fall back against me.

  She spoke to me again and I shook my head, not understanding.

  “She asks if the key speaks to you,” Mikael explained as he approached, looking sullen.

  I bit my lip, unsure of how to answer. It didn't speak to me per se, but it did occasionally share its emotions, which sometimes translated clearly enough that I could tell what it was thinking.

  “It doesn't use words,” I explained, considering how I might convey what the charm's strange form of communication was like, “but I can tell what it wants, and when it's excited about something.”

  Alaric translated for me, and Erykah nodded, then said something else.

  “She says if you can hear it, then you might be able to gain control over it, at least for a time,” Mikael translated. “Erykah was able to do so because she's a telepath, I believe you can do so because you're an empath.”

  The charm was silent against my skin. If I didn't know better, I would have guessed its sentient nature had left it, but I did know better. Life was never that easy.

  Erykah said something else, and Mikael rolled his eyes. “She says she will help you, for a price.”

  I looked down at the fierce little woman in front of me, then thought of the life brewing in my belly, and what might happen to me and . . . it, should I refuse.

  “Honestly, at this point. I’m willing to do just about anything.” I looked to Alaric, remembering how I'd almost been forced to sacrifice him. “Within reason,” I added.

  Rather than translating everything I'd just said, Alaric nodded to Erykah. She nodded in reply, then said something else, ending with a sneer.

  Mikael sighed wearily. “She says first there will be a welcome feast for me . . . though I deserve to eat with the cows.”

  I smiled, liking Erykah more and more. She quickly surveyed the rest of the cow pens, then led us back out into the rain.

  I inhaled the clean air gratefully as Mikael shut the small wooden door behind us. Erykah led the way back to the longhouse amidst the scent of smoke. We all hurried inside out of the rain.

  Erykah ventured away from us, while Alaric, Mikael, and I waited near the door, watching as two pairs of men hoisted cookpots over the fires. Mikael was drawn away, leaving Alaric and I to stand in the corner observing the scene.

  Soon enough, savory smells filled the longhouse.

  “This is so weird,” I muttered, leaning against Alaric’s damp shoulder. I glanced at him. “Well, I guess it probably isn’t so weird for you.”

  He snorted. “I’m not that old, Madeline.”

  I laughed, feeling some of my tension easing away, then watched as several of the younger women carried stacks of wooden bowls toward the cookpots, then began filling them. One woman fetched a tray of hard little dinner rolls with dark brown outer crusts, which she began placing on top of each filled bowl.

  Those already waiting near the fires seated themselves on long wooden benches, as more men and women filtered in from the rain. There were no tables that I could see, and those who already had bowls of food just held them in their laps.

  One of the girls approached and handed me a serving of food, then took the slowly drying pelt from me. I looked down into the bowl to find several chunks of stringy meat, a few scrawny carrots, and one little loaf of bread that was too hard to soak up the thick brown gravy it rested in.

  I gave Alaric a worried look. As a long-time vegetarian, the meal wasn't at all appealing to me, but my stomach was growling and there didn't seem to be any other options.

  Alaric shrugged apologetically as the girl returned to hand him a bowl. Unlike me, he had no qualms with eating meat, and neither did Mikael judging by the way he began shoveling food into his mouth once he received his own bowl. He lounged on one of the benches next to the girl with the toothy grin, surrounded by several other teenagers speaking rapidly, begging him for stories of his adventures by the look of it.

  Alaric nodded toward one of the less populated benches. Agreeing with the sentiment of relative solitude, I led the way over to the bench where we both seated ourselves.

  Alaric began eating, then paused. “You could at least eat the bread.”

  I looked down at the hard little boulder in distaste. “It's all covered in the gravy.”

  “You don't know when the next meal will come along,” he reminded me, “and you're eating for two now.”

  My pulse quickened at the thought. “So, are we talking about that now?”

  “We have to talk about it sometime.”

  I looked down at the bread again. Before I could think too much about it, I snatched it up and took a bite. It was actually softer than it looked, but still took a bit of work to chew.

  I swallowed, then looked to Alaric again. “Do you have any other children?”

  He dropped his hunk of bread back into his bowl in surprise, then turned astonished eyes to me. “Why on earth would you think that?”

  My face flushed. “I just thought, well, you've been alive a long time . . . ”

  He sighed and placed his bowl in his lap. “No, Madeline, I do not have any children. In fact, I was pretty sure by this point that I couldn't have children.”

  I took another bite of bread, feeling immensely relieved, and not really understanding why. “Is it common among the Vaettir?” I asked. “The not being able to have children?”

  Alaric nodded. “Once bloodlines become muddled enough, it becomes easier, but if two from strong, yet opposing bloodlines try to conceive, the chances are very low. The different tendencies of each individual come from very different genetics, so a water spirit like Sivi would have little chance of conceiving a child from someone aligned with fire and heat, like James.”

  The thought of James and Sivi having a child made me shiver. I imagined Sivi's pointed teeth and translucent hair on James body, then quickly brushed the eerie thought away. Any child from those two would be an evil little bundle of doom.

  “I’ve thought from the beginning that perhaps we are so drawn to each other because of our lineages,” Alaric continued. “It would make sense that such a connection would make it easier to conceive.”

  “Yeah, death and war mix well, but that doesn't explain what we're going to do.”

  Alaric looked down at my stomach where this new creature allegedly dwelled. “Well, I’d say we’re going to have a baby.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “We're going to have a baby, in the middle of a war, a war that we're at t
he center of, while I contend with a sentient key with a strong personality?”

  “They're not the best of circumstances, but this is all happening whether we think it's rational or not.”

  I felt nervous again, because there was one more question I needed to ask. Okay, there were a million, but one was currently standing out above the others.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Do you want to get rid of it?”

  Alaric dropped his bread again, and looked just as shocked as the first time. “Do you?”

  Did I? It was a good question. The real question was, could I?

  “I don't know what I want to do,” I sighed, “but I don't think I could go through with anything that would snuff out a life inside of me. I have a hard enough time snuffing out the lives of others.”

  Alaric's shoulders slumped in relief. The fact that he was relieved made me feel infinitely more positive about the situation, even if the looming doubt that I'd even live through the entire pregnancy still nagged at me.

  Someone plopped down on my other side. I turned to see Mikael, swilling something that smelled alcoholic out of an ornate silver cup.

  He lowered the cup from his lips and smiled at me. “You've traveled through time for perhaps the only time in your life, and you two are sitting over here looking like someone ran over your cat.” He winked at Alaric. “Pun intended.”

  “You're drunk,” I accused.

  He grinned. “No, dear Madeline, I'm just getting started. This might be the last time I see any of my kin alive, and I intend to make the most of it.”

  The thought was sobering. I was suddenly glad I had no kin to lose, at least not that I knew of. I looked around the room with a new perspective, realizing the happy, somewhat drunk people were all long since dead. Yet they somehow existed here in this time. The thought made me dizzy, and I suddenly felt like I might throw up.

  I held up a finger, about to explain my situation to Alaric, but sensing I was running out of time, I shoved my bowl at him, stood, and hurried toward the door.

  The chilly night air was like a slap in the face as I pushed the animal skins aside, but it was a welcome one. I fell to all fours and vomited what little food I’d eaten. As my queasiness subsided, I looked up at the sky, not quite ready to stand. The storm had moved away, leaving just a few clouds to partially obscure the moon. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned, thinking it was Alaric. Instead of his welcome face, I got Erykah, looking stern and serious in the moonlight. Her yellow hair appeared white in the darkness, framing and equally white face.

  Thoughts went through my mind suddenly, letting me know that she was aware of my pregnancy. Our language barrier was broken with this form of communication, just like with the Norns.

  I groaned. I was really tired of being spoken to with no words, even if it was convenient.

  Her return thought was that I was being childish. I had a gift and I should learn to use it to my advantage.

  I attempted to climb to my feet, but felt so weak that Erykah had to give me a hand up. Her next thought was that I needed to eat. It was selfish to not eat when another life was depending on me.

  She guided me away from the longhouse. I started to panic, thinking of Alaric.

  Her thoughts assured me that he would join us soon, as she had asked him to give us a moment. My panic dampened. I had no reason to trust her, but it was kind of hard not to when you were in each other's heads.

  We walked over the soggy ground arm in arm to another one of the smaller structures. The doorway was covered with skins like the longhouse, which she held aside for me so I could enter.

  The interior was small, but cozy, just three little benches covered in woolen cushions, and a large pelt over the center of the floor that I guessed once belonged to one of the little fluffy cows. Erykah held onto me until I sat on a cushions, then she began making a fire in a small pit in the back center of the room. When she was done, she sat on the bench beside me, rather than on any of the vacant seats, and handed me a small bowl of dried fruit. I munched on the fruit appreciatively until Erykah cut back into my thoughts.

  I will die soon, she thought, though once again it wasn't with actual words.

  I looked at her in surprise, and she conveyed that she had read her future in Mikael's mind. He was impeccable at shielding thoughts and emotions, but this one weighed on him enough that it leaked through.

  My instinct was to comfort her in some way, to express my regrets, but as soon as I thought it, she already knew. She gave me a soft smile. She was glad she would at least die before her sons.

  Not wanting to dwell on her impending demise, she reached out and once again pulled the charm free from my shirt. This is the reason I will die, she thought, sending a chill through my bones.

  I could not destroy it, only release it, and eventually it went on to another. Its new owner will send forces to kill me, not knowing I am their only hope of freeing themselves. All here will die.

  I stood up too quickly, thinking of the girl with the toothy grin, and everyone else having fun in the longhouse, worry free. “We have to warn them!” I blurted.

  Erykah shook her head sadly. You cannot change the past. No matter what you do, the same events will come to pass.

  I sat back down, defeated. I thought, why are you telling me all of this?

  You must agree to the price I've asked for helping you, she explained. You must swear to me the key will be destroyed, no matter the cost. It cannot move on to another owner. The destruction of the key will be my final revenge.

  I let my surprise project, not surprise at what she asked, but surprise she didn't already know my plans. I was going to destroy the key anyway.

  She looked sad again. You must promise me you will destroy it, no matter the cost.

  I nodded, thinking that it was an easy promise to make.

  The destruction will likely kill you, and your child, she admitted.

  My thoughts raced incoherently, which was good, because I didn't really want to share them with anyone at that moment. When they stilled, all I could think about was how she had mentally chastised me for not feeding my child. It didn't make sense if we were both going to die.

  She patted my hand and smiled warmly. Never give up hope. There is much to live for, much to fight for. I only wish I knew sooner.

  Someone knocked on the wood beside the door outside. Erykah said something in her language, then a moment later Alaric popped his head in.

  “Is female bonding time over?” he asked, not sensing the weight of what had just transpired.

  I forced a smile and nodded. “Erykah will teach me how to defeat the charm.”

  “And what of her price?” he pressed as he entered the room the rest of the way, letting the skins fall shut behind him.

  I glanced back at Erykah, then returned my gaze to Alaric as I tried not to cry. “It will be paid.”

  16

  As Alaric led me away from the little building where I'd sat with Erykah, her final thoughts echoed through my mind. I will teach you at first light, then you must go. You cannot be here when we die.

  I shivered, and it wasn't just from the cold and my still damp clothing. The mud stuck to my boots uncomfortably, and I was overcome with the urge to just give up and lie down in the muck.

  Alaric glanced at me every so often. “Are you okay? Did Erykah say something to upset you?”

  I went over everything I'd learned, trying to figure out how to put into words that I might have to kill myself and our child, eventually coming to the conclusion that I shouldn't tell him at all. If he knew, he would try to stop me, but his efforts would be futile. There might be no other way. The charm would cling to me, and even if I managed to free myself like Erykah had, it would come back to destroy me. I had to destroy it first. If there was even the slightest chance I could survive that destruction, I had to take it.

  I grasped Alaric's hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “I'm just tired. This morning back in our time seems like
it happened weeks ago.”

  Alaric squeezed my hand in return. “It's hard to believe that a mere ten or twelve hours ago we were having a nice shower without a care in the world.”

  I laughed, but it sounded forced, even to me. “I'd say we still had plenty of cares. They were just easier to shut out.”

  We reached the longhouse again, and Alaric let go of my hand so he could hold the skins aside for me. There was now music being played inside, melding with raucous laughter and conversation. I peeked in to see half of the Vikings dancing around the fires, while the other half sat and clapped along to the music.

  The warmth of the fires appealed to me, but I would have rather just gone to bed. I didn't want to be around people having fun, especially when I knew all of them would soon be dead. I took a step forward and hesitated in the doorway, wondering if we could find somewhere else to go.

  My decision was made for me as Mikael swung by the doorway and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the center of the dancing. He twirled me around to the music, clearly drunk.

  I leaned away, reaching my hands futilely toward the edge of the room.

  “Just one dance!” he begged. “Let us celebrate while we still can.”

  Underneath his revelry I could sense his sadness, though I could probably only feel it because the alcohol had weakened his emotional shields. It gave me pause, and I shook my head at Alaric, who'd been coming to rescue me. He stopped and glared at Mikael, but didn't continue his approach.

  Mikael pulled me close to him, swinging me in slow circles. Since he was eight inches taller than me, I had to crane my neck upward to look into his eyes. The same sadness I'd sensed from him was there in their amber depths.

  He broke eye contact and leaned his face down to my ear. “She knows, doesn't she?”

  “Erykah?” I whispered back.

  He nodded, sliding his hair across my cheek.

  For a moment I debated telling him, then not seeing the harm I answered, “Yes.”