Page 23 of Between Broomsticks and Beating Wings
Kari said her thanks to the Asgardian who’d taken her in and bandaged her up. The woman clasped Kari’s hands in hers for a moment before taking her leave. A long robe trailed behind her as she moved to the kitchen with her empty mug.
“Rune, you know where the spare bedchamber is. Use it when you’re done out here. Oh,” she paused to face me. “Don’t you dare leave it full of crumbs this time.”
“I won’t,” I said, an embarrassed blush forcing itself to the surface of my cheeks. Kari cast an eye over me with an amused twinkle in her gaze. “Don’t ask,” I warned the seeress.
Kari chuckled and played with the hem of her robe. “I’m assuming you get peckish whilst on your drunken endeavors?”
I stared at the seeress, not wanting to admit to any of my drunken memories, or lack of them, but she held a sparkle in her eye that wasn’t there merely moments ago. I would swallow my pride if it meant that sparkle could remain for just a little longer.
“Quite possibly,” I admitted. “Being able to transport goodies at whim doesn’t help with my inability to ignore the cravings.”
“That’s you who's been transporting food? I’d assumed it was the seidr of Odin’s Hall.”
“Valkyries don’t just collect souls, you know,” I said with a devious grin. “We’re assigned to the dead even after we bring them to their eternal resting point. I have a small connection to every soul I’ve collected, so once they’re in Odin’s Hall, I must make sure they remain content. Being able to summon food and drink at will helps in those duties. In fact, that’s pretty much how I solve all their issues, now that I think of it.”
“Well, that’s handy,” Kari mused. “What will happen to them when you’re gone? Will the dead be uneasy?” Tugging on the blanket positioned over the back of her seat, she pulled the free end across her lap.
“Maybe for a little while, but Odin will simply divide the souls up amongst the young sisters who have very few souls to attend to. I might miss one or two of them, but…”
I trailed off, thinking of Gro. Sure, I’d always hated how he stood tall next to me just to force me from my chair, but never once had he asked something of me. If I’d miss any spirit, it was sure to be him.
“I’d miss my sisters more than anything,” I said. My tea was now cold, but it no longer suited me anyway. Thinking of never seeing my sisters again had bile rising up my throat, so much so, I wanted to burn it away with mead. I wasn’t willing to use my seidr to summon it, and I bet Áma only had odd potions stashed away instead of alcohol. I wasn’t fool enough to mess around with those. Sighing, I too leaned back in my chair, realizing theonly thing I had to burn away my fears of impending grief was the woman lounging across from me.
A curious look passed over Kari, and I suddenly no longer wanted to speak about myself or what may or may not happen to the relationships in my life. Those worries would have to wait for another time.
“But you…” I said slowly. “You’re the one who’s no longer bound by your curse. How does it feel?”
Kari thought about my question for a moment, her fingertips trailing under her eyes. “They’re exactly how my sisters described them to be.”
“Mmm.” I nodded, thinking about what she’d said about being the eldest daughter. “Did you resent your sisters for not being cursed?”
“Gods, no. They weren’t the ones who cursed me. I was just happy they didn’t have to carry the burden like my mother and I did. They were the ones who painstakingly ensured I stayed away from reflective surfaces to aid in my comfort. They were the ones who drew countless portraits of me so I could imagine how I looked growing up.” Her eyes grew damp, and I realized I must have said the wrong thing. In my mortal life, I’d been an only child born of two hardworking humans who were never around. My true family was the one I took my oaths with.
“You should know…” I trailed off, not knowing how to make the tears wetting her lashes disappear. Nine realms, I forgot how often mortals weep. Sure, I’d seen them cry and scream countless times on the battlefield, but we were in no battle now. No lives were at stake, blood was not being shed, so why were tears leaking from her eyes? “We will have to venture to Hel.”
Kari nodded once. She wiped her cheeks, her face pink with embarrassment for letting the few meager drops fall. She sniffled and straightened as if it’d never happened, and I chose to ignore those three droplets I’d seen slip. I chose to pretend Ihadn’t trailed each of them with my sharp gaze, counting them as they fell.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TAKE THE FLOOR
Kari
Setting my tea mug on the counter, I cast a look over my shoulder at the peculiar valkyrie. She’d made food appear for me, and I’d nervously nibbled on it as she briefly explained why we needed to go to Hel and why we were on the run. I hadn’t been hungry, but I’d worked too hard in the mortal realm for food to turn down what she’d freely offered. Plus, the cherries had been maddeningly good.
“Odin will not accept your presence, but Hel might. She has returned beings to the mortal realm before, so if there’s one god who may help you and Tove, it’s her,” Rune had explained.
I understood we weren’t going to Hel to see if my family was there. I even understood that seeing them could disturb them more than not, knowing I’d be leaving them again so soon. Rune had said as much, though she knew nothing of my family.
I watched her as she finished cleaning our mugs, making sure to leave the place spotless after her supposed crumb incident. I too took extra care, not wanting to get on Áma’s bad side. The woman was a little rough around the edges, but she’d beenkind enough to take me in without question, pulling out her medicinal kit as soon as I’d walked through the door.
She said she’d smelled the mortal rot on me; as odd as that had sounded, I knew her to be wand-wed, and I wouldn’t question her methods. She was four thousand years old, after all. What did I know? Before the raid, I was just trying to keep up with my client list while battling nightly trouble with my visions.
When Áma offered tea, I’d opted for lavender, forgoing the mugwort. I didn’t need it anymore now that the stubborn vision had come to pass. I expected to go back to my regularly scheduled, easy-to-interpret visions.
“You must be tired,” Rune said as she wiped her hands on a kitchen cloth. She peered out at the star-streaked sky through an opening in the wall with glass embedded within, a window, as Áma had called it.
“I could use rest,” I said honestly. “Apparently, getting tossed out of a palace made by the gods takes a lot out of you.”
