Norse Fire: Myths, Magic, and Gods

by S Lawrence

  Norse Fire

  The Guardians Series Book Three

  S Lawrence

  Norse Fire: The Guardians Series Book Three

  Copyright © 2018 by S. Lawrence.

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact :

  sglawrenceauthor@gmail.com

  https://www.slawrencewriter.com/

  Book and Cover design by S Lawrence

  ISBN 978-1-7323570-0-6

  First Edition: 2018

  Created with Vellum

  For those damaged and hurt,

  who question their value,

  who find themselves unworthy of the love they deserve.

  There is someone who will see your scars, pain, and darkness

  and in them, find the very thing

  they have been longing for.

  ~S.

  Contents

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Part II

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Part III

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Part IV

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Also by S Lawrence

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by S Lawrence

  Part I

  Imagine meeting someone who wanted to learn about your past not to punish you, but to understand how you needed to be loved.

  Chapter 1

  RAVEN

  I stand watching them sleep for long moments, torn between staying with these people I care for and respect or returning to the Great Hall. Odin and the others will be looking for me. I have lingered here for too many months, staying close to these men and their friends. I'm still deciding when the tiny, tattooed Cora glides in on silent feet. She stops and looks at me, a grin blooming across her face.

  "They really are something, aren't they?" Her eyes caressing their naked chests makes me tense.

  "Yes," I murmur. I try to gauge her interest, but she grins at me, and it reminds me of the imps seen in our land. This girl sees too much and knows how to push people's buttons. She isn't interested in either of them, merely has a woman's appreciation for a sculpted male body.

  "I love how their accent gets thicker the more they drink. Shoot, I couldn't understand a word they were saying at the end of the night, but Lordy, I loved listening to 'em talk." She winks as she moves closer, leaning over Sean's sleeping form. "All this ink, makes a girl want to trace it." She glances up at my face, and my cheeks heat. "Ha, no shame, girl, no shame. Hell, go for it, I say. Life's too short."

  "I've lived for a thousand years," I blurt out at her, louder than I had intended. Michael rolls to his back, arm slung over his eyes. His hair is wild, and my fingers itch to touch it.

  "Would you say that life isn't short then? Do you believe you've got an infinite amount of time?" She counters. "They won't live for a thousand years." Her hand waves between the two Druids before caressing over the tattoo below Michael's collarbone. I clench my teeth at her touching him and make a noise before I can stop it. "Just something to chew on."

  I study her as she moves away toward the kitchen. I take one last look at the men who have dominated my mind and dreams for months before I join her.

  "It's complicated," I argue quietly.

  "Isn't it always," Cora replies softly. "I'm not saying it would be easy. Hell, I can see it won't regardless. The two of them… Woo, that there is a package deal. But the woman that gets them both, she will be something lucky, I can tell you that. Everyone sees the heat they hold in their eyes when they watch you. Hell, it could burn this place down." I lock my gaze on her face. I can't help the small smile that curves my lips. It is one of pure female satisfaction. She nods her head. "Maybe they've been alone because no mere mortal woman could handle all their love and desires. Think on it while you're gone."

  "I didn't say I was leaving."

  "Didn't need to," she shrugs.

  "Tell them where I'm going." She nods once again, and I turn and walk out, unfurling my wings and calling my powers so I can travel to Valhalla.

  After I enter my homelands, I begin to fly, steady strokes of my white wings carrying me quickly to the Great Hall. I land outside the massive carved wooden doors. Norse runes cover the pillars on either side; I pause, savoring the beauty of the craftsmanship. Snow falls silently around me, and I long for my fur wrap. I'm dressed for the warmth of Aislin and Emma's Louisiana, not the wintery landscape here. Straightening my spine and tucking my wings away, I brace my hands on the doors and push.

  They open, and I stand in the doorway, lit from behind. Everyone stops, heads turning my way, and all conversations cease. I know what they see. My paleness is a stark contrast to the other Valkyries, who tend to run in shades of black. Black wings, black hair, dark clothes -- even their armor is dark. Here I stand, white hair, white feathers, and my clothes are gold, shimmering in the light. Never been one to shy away from our differences. I'm colored differently than everyone here. Yes, our beloved Vikings are fair, but their Gods are not. Don't believe the Thor of today; the God of thunder is as dark as the night sky.

  I am an anomaly, which is why my mother left me with Freya. My only attribute from my mother is my wings, and from my father, my smokey grey eyes. Freya loves me as her own and likes that I'm different than all her other Valkyries. Me, she sends as an avenging angel onto the field of battle. She always said I bring comfort even to those not chosen for Valhalla. She knows me well enough that when I return with warriors to Folkvangr for her to pick, she can tell those I believe to be worthy of fighting for her. For a thousand years, I have built her army. She sends me out, searching for her, and has since the day I first answered the call from the battlefield.

  I must first pay my respect to Odin and greet my mother, but it is Freya and my father that I wish to go to. I step inside and let the doors close behind me, striding to
the end of the longhouse. Odin sits in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. Ragnhild is at his side, as she always is. Stopping before them, I lower my head to them.

  "Allfather. Mother," I greet them.

  "You were long from our realm. What kept you?" Odin's tone is deceptively calm. I must choose my words wisely.

  "I lingered with the group you sent me to watch, building trust. They had more than one battle with a human group that is a threat to the other clans." I make sure that it is clear I don't believe they are a threat to us. "I thought it best to learn as much as I could about them and any weaknesses of the clans they were attacking."

  He smiles, wrinkles creasing his ancient cheek. My mother fights a look of reluctant pride on her face. "Good. Yes, that was a good idea. We must discuss it later. I understand you must report to Freya." His voice is laced with disdain.

  "Thank you, my Lord. You know she is impatient," I add, the last to draw his focus to my Goddess. Long ago, she taught me to keep his attention anywhere but on me.

  I turn on my heel and stride away, winking at my father who is lounging on a couch covered in furs. He smirks back at me before I hear him in my head. 'Well done, daughter. I will find you later. We have much to discuss.' He sees much and has many schemes going on, for he is known as the Trickster. I would prefer to call him the Schemer.

  I make my way to Freya's hall. Inside it is like a winter wonderland, crystals and diamonds winking in the light created by the stars she hung high up in the rafters. It appears cold but is, in fact, warm and inviting. She glances up when she hears my footsteps on the marble floor. Rising, Freya meets me, enveloping me in a tight hug.

  "Tell me," she exclaims.

  So I do. I tell her about Thorne, Inc. I explain that what we've seen is just the beginning. I talk to her about Arias, one of Hades' experiments that had been working with the humans.

  "Why would one of the Tuatha De' Danann want to help the humans steal our powers?" She murmurs out loud, but I can tell she is speaking mostly to herself.

  "I don't know, my lady, but I plan to find out."

  Her gaze darts to my face and her hands grip mine, tight enough the bones grind together. I try not to flinch. "You must be very careful. Lately, I felt the darkness. Secrets have remained hidden, and those that keep them will not want those secrets revealed."

  "I will be," I promise. She studies me intently. I squirm after a few moments.

  "What else? You are leaving something out. What else happened?" I turn away, and I hear her chuckle. "I see... Should I ask who else happened since you've been gone?"

  I look back at her before walking to my chair that sits beside her on her dais. She follows and sits, leaning back and silent, waiting for me to speak. I open my mouth...

  "I only have a short while before he grows suspicious," my father's voice rings out as he jogs into the hall. Waving his hand, he closes the massive doors.

  "You can tell me later," she whispers.

  "She can tell you what? About those Scots she is drooling over?" His eyes twinkle with mischief.

  "Father!" I plead. He only grins wider.

  "First, let us talk about what you found out, and I'll tell you of the message I just received. Then we can talk about your desires and whether I approve or not," he grouses.

  We move in close and talk about everything we've all learned so far. Loki then tells us of the message Morrigan sent. Yggdrasill chose two new warriors, and she is sending them on a journey through her branches.

  "Who are these warriors?" I ask, dread settling in my heart.

  "Michael and Sean." His reply rings through me, and I jump to my feet. My head is shaking as he grabs my hand and pulls me close. "She is worried for you. I haven't learned why but I intend to. She is sending them through her roots. The journey will be arduous, and there will be those fighting against them, but having watched these Druids for some time, I believe they will prevail."

  "Watched them for some time? If you watched them, why did you send me too?" I grumble.

  "Because, dear daughter, maybe I wanted to see your reaction to them and saw what you don't wish to admit."

  "Really?! Like the interest you showed in Cora? I didn't miss it, and neither did the others that know you well," I counter. I raise my eyebrow, waiting for his answer, one that I knew wouldn't be coming. My father held his secrets close. He only smirks before rising. Crossing to me, he lifts me up and pulls me in for a tight hug. Love pours into me, and I grip him tightly back. We have few moments like this, and in front of the others, he feigns indifference. Only Freya and Fenrir know the truth. Just they see how he protects us all.

  'I love you, daughter. Be careful. I don't know why but I believe something is coming. Something dangerous to us. To you.' His voice trembles as it whispers in my head.

  'I know, Father. There is something I only wanted to tell you. Aphrodite was helping the humans, working with Arias, Hades' creation, as he helped those members of The Order of the Sceach. She disappeared.'

  He draws back, looking in my eyes, and I see apprehension on his face. This frightens me more than anything else could. I've never seen him worried like he is at this moment.

  "Trust no one." He strides away after issuing his warning. Freya moves to my side, studying his back before looking at me.

  "Is there something I should be aware of? Your father seems uncharacteristically concerned." I feel her powers slide over me, probing my mind, but I learned long ago how to keep people out.

  I smile, schooling my face before I respond. "You know I will tell you as soon as I find anything out. I'm going home to rest a bit before I begin to figure out what exactly is going on. Arias had other halflings working with him. One came to our aide. She is with Jason's friend, Nestor. This Order is much more widespread than we initially thought. It is like a giant spider's web, but someone is at the center."

  She hugs me. It is a tight, quick hug. "Be careful, and I hope you know you can trust me."

  "Of course, my Lady," I respond automatically but deep in my soul, I don't know if I can or not. I move over to a grand entrance. Freya seals it with magic, keeping the cold out but allowing her to see the view of the Aurora Borealis and the falling snow unimpeded. I call my wings, unfurling them and begin to flap them as I walk through the shield. Climbing high into the sky, I head for my home.

  I fly higher and higher up, circling closer and closer to the mountains. I reach the highest peak, snow falling there harder, and as I land, I sink to my knees in it. I grow tremendous trees outside my home. They are out of place this high on the mountain, but my magic keeps them healthy. Walking beneath them, I run my hands over the trunks. I'm not surprised to find Fenrir lying beneath one, taking shelter from the snow.

  "Hello, Brother," I sing out, as I launch myself into his massive body. He rolls to his back as I land on him, huge paws wrapping around my body. We have always been close, and he often stays near, hoping to catch me when I'm home.

  “I heard of your return, Sister. Yggdrasill suggests I stay near you while we search.”

  "Did she tell you who we search for?" I question.

  “Aphrodite. I never liked her and I will gladly eat her whole.” His fangs snap at me. They are as long as my forearm and gleam in the moonlight.

  Pushing up, I stand and start to my home, a sense of contentment filling me. The doors are twenty-five feet tall and fifteen feet wide. My father made them large enough for my brother to get in easily, and they can only be opened with magic. They are etched and carved with wings. I wave my hand and they open, letting us into my home. I chose this set of natural caves for their beauty. With my father’s help, I opened one wall of the cave to the heavens, filling it with dragon glass with the help of a particular Guardian I know.

  Inside is warm and cozy, the mountain keeping the temperature regulated. Smaller caves branch off from the big central room, and to the back is a giant hallway that leads to den for Fenrir. Now, he is stretched out in front of the fire that roared to l
ife with his help. Snow is melting from his fur as he watches me. We are silent for a long while, each of us lost in our thoughts. Mine turned toward New Orleans and those I left behind. I worry about them traveling Yggdrasill's roots. Many dangers lie between them and Valhalla. I have never heard of humans venturing between the worlds.

  "Fenrir, have you heard of any human traveling the roots of Yggdrasill?" I inquire and I hear the worry within my voice.

  “'Never, but she would not chose the Druids if they weren't worthy or capable.” His eyes glow brightly with humor.

  "What did Father say to you?" I splutter, heat coloring my cheeks.

  “Why be embarrassed? It's not like you haven't had lovers,” he snorts.

  "This is different. They are different," I muse, looking out at the falling snow. "It's late. Why don't we make our plans in the morning?" Rising, I walk to my room. Stopping at the door, I glance over my shoulder. "I love you."

  Once inside, I strip and head to the natural pool that is filled by a hot spring. The steam rises over the water and I ease into the heat, letting it cover me. The heat relieves the tension from my body. My wings are hidden on my skin. When they are tucked away, they form a tattoo from my shoulders to the bottom of my ass. Delicate, intricate black feathers that only a few have seen. I close my eyes and imagine a pair of tongues sliding over them.