by J. L. Murray
“What does it mean?” said Eleni. Fin turned to look at her. This was the disconnected Eleni, the one he had come to think of as the mask, though perhaps he had it backwards. Perhaps this one was real and the vulnerable woman from the forest was the mask.
“It means you have more power now,” said Fin. “That will be useful when we find Loki.”
Eleni flinched at the name. For a moment she looked hurt, but it was only an instant. She saw Fin watching her and the expression was gone. She regarded him, looking as emotionless as when she was dealing with the Reivers. “We should go,” she said. There was a snap and Fin saw the wolf walk smoothly out from under some bushes, licking blood from her snout.
“I'm going to let Epona rest for a bit,” he said. “I've overworked her. If we want to make it the rest of the way, she needs to eat.”
Eleni nodded, but it was stiff and awkward, as though she didn't know how to act. Fin thought that was probably true a lot of the time. But somehow the strangeness made her better to him. It made her more...herself. Eleni's eyes flicked around them, avoiding him. She could make herself cold all she wanted to. She was afraid to be alone with him.
“What's changed?” said Fin.
“What?” said Eleni, startled, her eyes snapping to him.
“Something changed,” said Fin. “You're different. Your memories came back to you. But you can't let them change you.”
“You don't know,” said Eleni. Her voice was hard, but her eyes were soft as they looked upon him. Fin felt everything stripped away then.
“Just stop,” said Fin. “This isn't you. At least I don't think it is. I hope it's not.” He looked at her, his chest hurting, and the hurt making him feel angry. “Why do you do this?”
Eleni frowned. “I don't know what you think I'm doing.”
“This,” said Fin, motioning around her face. “This mask. This way that makes things easier for you. You pretend you don't care about everything, Eleni. But that's not how it really is.”
She swallowed and took a step back. She shook her head, but there was fear behind her eyes. “I don't know what you mean. We should go now.”
“Loki has waited for us this long, he'll wait a moment longer. If I'm going to go to my death, at least I'll die knowing.” Eleni looked away from him. “Eleni, you told me things you've never told anyone else,” said Fin, his anger rising. “Why do you pretend you don't know me now?”
“Stop,” said Eleni. “Please. Do not ask me any more. You do not understand.” She turned to walk away.
“Answer me!” Fin felt the tightness in his chest like something boring into his heart.
Eleni turned quickly, her fists closed as though ready to fight. “I told you to stop asking,” she said, her voice sounding low and hollow. Flames rose from her fists and flickered in her eyes. She was stronger, stronger than she had ever been. And she had been powerful to begin with. Fin knew he should ease back, he should leave her alone, he should just shut his mouth. His arm ached under the dressing where her body had burned him. He healed quickly, but the burn had been deep. But he couldn't stop. Not this time. He felt out of control. He had felt this way once before and it had as good as killed him. He wouldn't die again. He wouldn't allow Eleni to push him away. Not when he knew she needed him perhaps more than he needed her. She was like thin ice about to crack. And if it killed him, so be it. But he was not going to let her go through this alone. She had done that already, he knew only a small part of what she had been through, but that was enough.
“Kill me if you have to,” he said, his throat dry and hoarse. “But you don't have to do this. Not alone. Not ever again.” The anger was ebbing away from him as she stood looking at him. He shook his head. “I'll die for you, Eleni. Don't you understand? Happily and without regret.”
Eleni blinked and her eyes cleared, the fire hissing and leaving trails of smoke in the air, dissipating as quickly as they had formed. The fire stayed in her fists, but Fin could see the flames were smaller than before.
“I don't expect anything from you,” said Fin. “Only the truth.”
Eleni let her fists open and the fire seemed to absorb into her palms. Her mouth moved like she was trying speak but couldn't. She closed her eyes and breathed in. She opened her eyes, and Fin watched a single tear slide down her cheek, evaporating to steam before it could fall. “I can't,” she whispered finally. “They all say that it can never be. It's best to leave it. Just leave me be. I'm not for you.”
“Leave what be?” Fin was close enough to smell the smoke of her hair, almost close enough to touch.
“I'm not supposed to feel,” she said. “It makes it harder.”
“Harder to what?” said Fin. “Please, Eleni. You have to tell me.” He stepped forward and she didn't shrink away. He took her hands. “Please.”
“Harder to die,” she said softly. As though she was very, very tired and had nothing left to give. She met his eyes. “How I feel makes it harder to die.”
“Why do you think you have to die?” said Fin. “Did Magda tell you that?”
“No,” said Eleni. She hesitated. “Danai,” she said. “It was Danai. She came to me. After I remembered.” Eleni looked up at him. “I will die, Fin. And they all say it makes me weak. I saw this...she said she was a Sirin.”
“You saw a Sirin?” said Fin, surprised. “I didn't think they were real.”
“She knew me, and then Danai came and said the same things, only she told me why.”
“Why what?”
“Why things that are happening came to be. My mother. She's not my mother, I know that now, but she changed things. She changed everything by saving me. And now I have to kill Loki by bringing the Fates together again. When they cut his thread, I'll die too.”
“Why will you die?”
“Because we are intertwined,” said Eleni, as though reciting something she had been repeating over and over, like a child repeating a prayer to the gods.
“If the Fates are so sure, why can't they find each other?” said Fin. “If they're so certain of what you have to do for them, why can't they just do it themselves?”
“I asked Danai that. She said everything was chaos because of what my mo—because of what Anja did. Nothing is as it should be. The threads they weaved are useless now.”
“Then how do they know what your fate is?” said Fin.
“They just know,” said Eleni, her shoulders limp.
“It's not good enough.”
“You're not listening, Fin,” she said. Her mask slipped fully and Fin finally saw the pain that this caused her. The skin around her eyes was so dark it looked bruised. And the look in her eyes was something raw that Fin had never seen on her before. It was pain. He had heard it in her voice, felt it in the way she told him things, but this was what it looked like. “It cannot be. I'm not allowed to have this. Not ever. I'm not even supposed to be alive.”
“No thanks to them,” said Fin. “Eleni, would your mother have sacrificed everything for you if it wasn't important? Why do you think she left you in that village? It makes sense now. It was to save you. To let you live.”
“And now gods are dying.”
“But you're alive. And you are one of the most powerful gods left. Eleni, I've known Magda for a long time. She would do anything to have her power returned to her, and I'm guessing Danai is the same. I've seen Magda lie, and only recently she had an entire village slaughtered to get her way. You remember that, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“You can still find the Fates, if that's what you want to do. You can bring them together to cut Loki's thread if it's what needs to be done. But you don't have to do it alone. Let me stand by you. Let me shoulder the burden with you, Eleni. Please. You've done everything alone. You've felt unimaginable heartache. Let me help you this time.”
“It's going to kill me, Fin,” she said.
“Let that be my burden. If it comes to pass, it comes to pass.”
“If I don't stop Loki
, it'll be the end of the world. Ragnarok. I have to stop him. I have to reunite the Sudices.”
“If that is what you must do, then it is what I must do as well. From now on, you are not alone. Do you understand? Even if you want me to leave you, I won't do it. You deserve so much more than this. I will help you, whether you will it or no. I am your shadow and I'll do what I must to help you.”
Eleni shook her head. “It's too much.”
Fin smiled. “It's not. I would do a great deal more. I would do anything.”
When Eleni's lips met his it was like fire. And he wanted very badly to step into the flames.
When they rode out again, Eleni wrapped her arms around Fin and laid her face against his back. Fin set his jaw as he put his heels into Epona. He could feel Eleni's heat through his thick clothing. Powerful or not, he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. She had done enough for a lifetime. But as they got closer to their destination, he couldn't help but wonder: What if Danai was telling the truth?
Chapter Eighteen
Magda stood up straight for the first time in years. It was curious. The moment she had put Eleni's necklace over her head, she had felt a surge of power come back to her. She still didn't know what sort of magic was inside the bauble, but she didn't have time to contemplate it now. She could feel the creatures of the forest around them.
“Find him,” Magda commanded, feeling stronger than she had in ten winters. The Reiver woman just shook her head. She was crying, snot leaking out of her nose. Magda couldn't look at her. The weakness irritated.
“Grandmother,” the woman whined. “I told you, I've looked everywhere. He's not here. He left us.”
Magda scowled. “Go look again,” she growled. “Find Marowit. He must be somewhere. He wouldn't have just...” She stopped in mid-sentence. Would he have? Would he have betrayed his brothers and sisters so easily? Perhaps. Magda had always found Marowit unsettling, but the idea that he would deceive them all had never crossed her mind. The woman was staring at Magda. “Just go,” Magda said. The woman didn't need any more motivation. She scrambled to her feet and ran out of Magda's tent.
She could feel them approaching, all the dark creatures. Fin's presence had kept them at bay before, and to a lesser degree Eleni, but now they were coming to feed. Magda wasn't exactly sure what would happen to her if she was eaten by dark things, but she was not about to find out. They would have to fight. She took a deep breath and blew it out, seeing the warmth form a cloud in the frigid air. She opened the flap of her tent and went out.
It was even colder outside, though it was almost worth it to breathe the fresh smell of new snow instead of the smell of rancid, moldy leather of the tent. Everyone that had been left behind was huddled around the tiny fire at the center of camp. Thirty or so desperate pairs of eyes looked at her as she approached. They wanted her to tell them what to do. Magda looked them over. Skinny and weak and broken of spirit. There were a few old men who hung back, letting the women warm the children.
“Gather the weapons,” said Magda, with finality in her voice. “All the bows, the falxes, knives, even sharp sticks are better than nothing. Gather them all and bring them back here.” A few women jumped up and headed toward the tents. Magda recognized Iren as one of them. Good girl. As she had expected, most of the women froze, staring at her in horror.
“Grandmother, I have much respect for you,” said a slight woman holding a small child. The little girl in her arms wasn't even crying, but just laid her head weakly on her mother's neck. Magda remembered the woman. She was Elek's wife, and usually directed the other women in the daily chores. A girl-child she knew as Rika, who Fin was fond of, clung to her leg. Magda squinted at her as she tried to remember the woman's name. Katalin, that was it. “This is not the right way of things,” Katalin was saying. “We are forbidden to touch the weapon of a man.”
“You should have thought of that before,” said Magda. “If you'd kept away from your husband's weapon we wouldn't have so many damn children to protect tonight.” There was nervous tittering among the women. Katalin looked affronted. “I do not have time to convince you that there is no life in the way you live, woman,” Magda said. “In fact I care very little for what you do. But I care to keep on living. And at the same time I can help you save your own lives and those of your children.”
“If the gods are to take us on this night, there is little to be done about it,” said a high voice from behind Katalin. A tall woman with limp hair that forever hung around her face had stood up. Magda vaguely recollected seeing her around the camp, but she had no idea who she was.
Magda stepped toward the woman, making her eyes widen. She tried to take a step back but others had crowded around her to hear what Magda was saying. Magda put a crooked finger on the tall woman's chest. She could feel the bones just below the skin. “The gods are out fighting for survival. Fighting something even worse than the dark creatures. Fighting so this evil doesn't come here and slaughter you all. So if you have weapons in your tent, go now and bring them out. Or we will all become foul scat shat out by something that drips slime and smells of carrion.”
The woman pushed through the others and walked quickly toward, Magda guessed, her tent. Others also scattered. Katalin stayed, looking at her defiantly. It was as if she were a different person when faced with doing something for herself. She had always been respectful to Magda, but now, hatred gleamed in her eyes. The old men glared at Magda, too. The ones who understood. A grizzled man with a lame leg stood up from his log with the aid of a walking stick. He had a few strands of hair left that stuck straight up in the air. He could barely walk, but he wobbled over to Magda.
“What do you think, crone? That we will be saved by a bunch of women?” he wheezed. He tried to laugh but only coughed.
“You'd better hope to be saved by the women,” said Magda. “They're all you have left.” Magda jutted her jaw out. “And speak to me with respect or I will stop your heart, old man.”
“You haven't the power,” he said, though a bit nervously.
“You don't see me limping, do you?” said Magda. “In fact, I'm feeling very strong. Would you like to test my power? I'm quite curious to see what I can do.” She turned away from him and addressed the women who remained. “If you are not gathering weapons, you will gather wood for the fire. As much as you can get. We will build this fire high.”
“You want us to go out there?” said Katalin, motioning to the woods.
“You're worried now?” said Magda. “How interesting.”
Katalin shifted her child. “We'll die if we go out there.”
“You'll die if you don't go out there,” said Magda.
“I suppose you're going to kill me,” said Katalin. “I agree with grandfather. You don't have the power.”
“But I do,” said a voice behind Katalin. There was a long creak as Iren pulled the bow in her hands back. The arrow was pointed at Katalin's face now. “Do as she says, or I'll put an arrow in you.”
“Iren?” said Katalin. “What would your mother say?”
“She'd tell you to stop holding us back and carry your bony arse into those woods so we can build this fire,” said another voice that had joined Iren. Magda recognized it at Iren's mother, Jlona, holding a falx in each hand as if they were dead animals. “My daughter will have a future. I won't let her die.”
“The old men can watch the children,” Magda said, relishing the looks on their faces. Arrogant old sods. “We all have a place on this night. We must all work or we will all die.”
The fire finally roared after a long time of hissing. Magda was sure it would go out from the damp wood. But soon the branches dried out and crackled. Magda called for more wood. No one grumbled any longer. The children gleefully jumped and played by the fire, joyful to be warm at last. Even Magda had to smile a little at their squeals. Though she knew the noises of children would bring other things.
Magda could feel some of her old power coursing through her body. No
t nearly as strong as it used to be, but more like herself than at any time since the fire. She could feel the necklace buzzing at her throat. She knew it was casting a light, giving her face a ghostly glow, as she had seen it do to Eleni. She gathered the energy she could feel inside her ribcage. Standing close to the bonfire she raised her hands. As she let the pressure go she felt a sensation like icy cold water trickling from inside her arms. Her hands glowed with an icy-white light. She pushed and the light shot out of her, spreading like an eruption of water, though colder than any river Magda had ever felt. She looked around. The women and old men had frozen and were staring at her in surprise. A light surrounded the camp like a bubble, glowing only at the edges. It wouldn't stop the dark creatures, but it would slow them down. Make them sluggish when they entered.
Magda shook her hands and clenched and unclenched them. The use of power had given her a surge of near-giddiness. She shouldn't overreach; she was not nearly as powerful as she was. But it was a start. She knew one thing: she would not be returning the necklace to a mere fire goddess. This was a magic too powerful to waste on backwoods gods, even a god birthed by a Fate.
Magda looked over at the old man who had challenged her. He was gasping for breath, looking around at the orb that now surrounded them. “Still think I can't stop your heart, old man?” she said.
He tried to speak, but only a wheeze came out. He finally just shook his head slowly, his jaw hanging open.
“Keep gathering wood,” Magda said to the women. “You can go through the light, just be careful of what lies on the other side. This won't stop them, but it will make them slow if they venture into camp.” Magda looked around until her eyes found Iren. “How skilled are you with that bow, child?”
“Good enough,” said Iren. “Eleni said I was good enough to live without a husband if I wanted to.”
Magda shook her head. “These are no husbands, child. If we survive this night, get as far away from these Reivers as you can.” Magda raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever killed a dark creature?” Iren shook her head. “You're going to start tonight. You will stay with me and watch for any movement that isn't human. Understood?”