Page 82 of Between Broomsticks and Beating Wings
When I stood and walked deeper into the room, I found my friends all sitting around in padded chairs, talking amongst themselves and motioning to something on a table between them.
“Thank the gods these things take forever to go bad. We don’t know how long it’s going to take to find Odr, and Rune refuses to make any offerings to Freyja until Kari is anointed,” Rayna said to Alvion, motioning to a silver tray of mooncakes.
“Subterranean bakers don’t mess around, my mother included,” he said with a chuckle. “What’s the point in having seidr if you’re just going to let your yummies go bad right away? How else would you bake enough for the entire lunar cycle? They’remooncakes, after all.”
“Are you sure we can’t eat a few?” Nori asked, her small hand creeping far too close to the tray for my comfort.
“No one touches them!” Kari said before I had the chance. “Eating those mooncakes is considered stealing directly from the goddess herself.”
A smile found my lips, and I placed my hand on her back as I reached her. I leaned in and whispered into her hair, “So protective.” Kari relaxed into my side, her long dress draping over my leather-covered thighs. Her face flushed at my words, as if she was embarrassed she’d gotten carried away in warning off our friends.
“Exactly,” Alvion agreed, his face surprisingly stern. He struggled to maintain his seriousness for more than a moment before he broke into a pleased grin. “Which is why I brought twice as many as I thought the goddess would need! These ones are for all of you. Therealofferings are back at the House of Wings, safe in Rayna’s chambers.”
Kari’s eyes widened. “So we can eat these now? I’ve always wanted to try mooncakes.”
Alvion shoved the tray toward Kari, laughing at her sudden change of mood. “Have at it!”
Nori dove toward the cakes before anyone else could, shoving three of the small, cream-colored puff balls into her mouth. Kari’s mouth hung open as her hand hovered over the tray, but then she covered her amusement by pressing a cake to her lips. Her brows rose, and a muffled sound came from her throat when the sweet flavors hit her tongue.
“For the love of the gods!” she said, grabbing another mooncake before she’d swallowed the first.
I laughed as she handed me three. I’d remembered the first time I’d had one of the dwarven treats, and my reaction was almost identical, though I was pretty sure mine had included a few more profanities. Biting through one felt like eating a cloud. For people who lived under rocks, they sure knew how to make something soft.
We all ate our fair share and sipped on orange ale as we did. Kari deserved the much-needed break from searching for Odr, even if she was the only one who didn’t partake in the consumption of ale. Áma would arrive any time now, and Kari wanted to keep her mind clear and ready for what came next.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
BEYOND THE PIGMENT
Kari
My bare feet padded against the floor as I paced from the window to the door, which happened to be quite the distance. Gods could make endlessly large quarters for themselves, far bigger than one being could ever need. And to think, this was just one of Odr’s chambers, the one meant to stoke his inspiration. I, of course, would not be permitted in the one he once shared with Freyja.
My pacing didn’t cease until there was a knock on the door. I rushed over, already halfway en route. I found myself swinging the door open with little regard for who stood on the other side. There was only one face I wanted to see, and it was spotted with age.
“Áma! Thank goodness!” I said, pulling her, perhaps a little too aggressively, inside the chamber.
“Get your oily mitts off me,” Áma said in her croaky old voice. “Did you dump every incantation oil you could find on yourself? My gods!”
I shrunk back, removing my hands from her shoulders and wiping them down my fur-lined shawl. “I may have gotten carried away,” I admitted sheepishly.
“Go cleanse yourself from the elbow down. I need a fresh canvas to work with, and you’re far from it.”
I narrowed my eyes but began backing toward the wash basin anyway, biting my tongue. I wouldn’t fight with the woman after she’d come all this way. Rayna had sent Gunhild to collect her from the mist and deliver her to Sessrúmnir, and that was no small thing. I couldn’t imagine seeing Áma on the back of the fearsome pegasus, and I had to stifle a laugh before the windswept woman asked me what I was going on about.
When I was cleansed to Áma’s satisfaction, I met her in the center of the chamber. She stood there with a wooden bowl, and as I approached, she shoved into my chest. “Mugwort is child’s play. Drink this.”
“What is it?” I asked, wearily taking the bowl from her and staring at the thick, red substance.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” she grumbled, tucking wayward hairs behind her ears.
“Áma, there’s no way in Hel I’m drinking whatever this is without knowing what’s in it first.”
She sighed and looked up at me before she muttered, “Once you know, you can’t unknow, but suit yourself. I’ve mashed together the heart from a silver fish hand-caught in a fjord, the blessed wolf-wine drained from five humans, tea made of Yggdrasil bark, and, uh, mint, of course.”
I winced and peered at the contents of the bowl. The only positive was the mint to settle my stomach after consuming raw heart and human blood. Next time she told me not to ask, I was going to listen.
“And the face you’re making is why I chose not to tell you,” Áma sighed. “Plug your nose and drink up. There’s much to learn and not much time to learn it.”
