Page 12 of Between Broomsticks and Beating Wings (Love X Magic #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

MIRROR, MIRROR

Rune

“ W hy do you keep bumping into things? Open your eyes, for Valhalla’s sake,” I said, stabilizing a vase that teetered and threatened to tip off the vanity.

“You have far too many mirrors in here. How often does a person really need to stare at themselves?” she said, her eyes glued to the floor, as if nowhere but her feet was safe to look at.

My breath caught, and I’d felt like she’d reached into my mind, plucking memories of countless moments lingering in front of any reflective surface I happened to stumble across.

How vain she must have assumed I was. I wanted to explain myself, but she was a mere mortal, twenty-five, maybe?

She would never understand the thoughts that plagued my mind, the curiosities and doubts.

As I watched her stare at her toes, I wondered why she’d refused to look up.

Surely, she couldn’t hate the way she looked that much.

Yes, her current state was rather disheveled, but that was only temporary.

One bath in the healing waters of Valhalla, and she would be good as new, beautiful as ever.

I did tell her she looks horrid. I suppose that could have something to do with her strange behavior.

The girl was self-conscious is all. I softened my voice as I walked over to the tub. “This soak will make you feel as good as new. The waters in Valhalla are quite healing.”

“Am I supposed to go in there?” she asked, glancing at the golden tub wearily for a quick moment.

She went from confident and grating to timid and meager in an instant, as if I’d beaten her.

She flinched as she moved, uncomfortable unless her eyes were on the floor.

No, this wasn’t self-consciousness. This was fear–deep, debilitating fear.

“Yes. It won’t hurt, I promise. I know you’re used to a wash bucket, but we do things a little…differently here in Valhalla. Only the best for the best of souls.”

“But I don’t belong here, do I?” she whispered.

You do, I wanted to tell her, but I’d already said too much as it was.

“I’ll have some food waiting for you when you’re out.

There’s a robe hanging over there,” I said, pointing to a hook on the wall where a crimson silk robe hung.

I turned to leave her and the feline alone, stealing one last look at the seeress.

She tried to gather courage to look up, and while she managed to raise her chin, her eyes remained on the floor.

The reflective surfaces. They’re rendering her immobile.

“Would you feel more comfortable if I blew the candles out?”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” She nodded her head quickly. “I’ll find my way through the darkness.”

What a peculiar creature.

I blew the candles and lanterns out per her request, leaving her alone in the dark.

I shut the door behind me and then wandered through my bedroom, wondering what I should do while I waited for her.

I didn’t need to bother preparing food, as it would appear on my table upon my request. I could rid my bed of the bloody rags from the night prior.

She’d slept upon them, and I hadn’t wanted to wake her to remove them from beneath her.

At some point in the night, her face had relaxed, and she looked at peace.

I wasn’t strong enough to take that peace from her.

Kari. Two years of watching the woman, and she had finally told me her name.

I, of course, had known it already, but it was so much different when the name was offered freely from the one who owned it.

The word felt right on my lips as I whispered it under my breath.

I glanced over my shoulder at the door, as if she could hear me over the sound of her aimless stumbling.

As I waited, I tidied my room and scolded myself for letting too much on too soon.

I blew it with the tea. Of course, I was aware she drank brewed mugwort stems and leaves each night, but she wasn’t supposed to know that.

And then there was the little slip up of calling her “seeress”.

She was far too quick witted to miss any of these little details.

I knew it from the way her gaze trailed over me, burrowing deep into my soul with those blue eyes of hers, watchful and ever curious.

The sound of stumbling and groaning echoed from the bathing chamber. I stood and faced the door, then cleared my throat and leaned against one of the posts of my bed.

No, that’s not it.

I sat upon the edge of my bed, but that too was wrong.

As the door cracked open, I dropped to the floor to tie my already-tied boot, my heart pounding in my ears.

The door opened, and out from the darkness stepped an orange cat and a woman wrapped in thin, crimson silk.

My eyes dared to follow where the fabric dipped and hugged, and I wouldn’t soon forget the trail of water from her hair that dripped down her chest. Yes, being on my knees was the only correct course of action.

My fingers forgot they were meant to be tying my laces, or pretending to at least, and there I knelt before her, staring up into those stunning blue eyes swimming with questions. Did I hate the way she looked at me with such disdain, or was I beginning to crave it?

When she noticed me kneeling before her, she took a step back, one of her dark auburn brows quirking. “Is everything alright?”

“Uh, yes,” I muttered, rising from my knees. “How was your soak? Better than a wooden wash bucket?”

“Much,” she said with the faintest of smiles. She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest, her confidence still not finding her.

“Good. I’ve laid out some clothes for you on the bed, and there’s warm food and tea waiting for you upon the table in the corner.”

“Mugwort?” she stared at me with a challenging expression.

“Uh, no. Sage and lavender.” My face grew hot, though I’d never let her know that.

“Hmm,” was all she said as she wandered over to the bed. She ran her fingers over the loose dress that lay there, then picked up the shawl next to it. “I thought it didn’t get cold in Valhalla.”

“The nights do grow cooler once the sun bids its goodbye, though only the living can feel it. I figured you would feel more comfortable with the extra layers. You mortals do tend to wear a lot of clothing, don’t you?”

“Has it been that long since you were one yourself?” She glanced over her shoulder draped in silk.

“I don’t forget what it’s like to be mortal, if that’s what you’re asking,” I admitted, glancing up at her as she began slipping undergarments on under the robe, her back still turned to me.

“I’m not from a village like Stormheim as you are.

I’m from a place you’d consider a distant land, one with warm waters, where different gods rein. ”

“Different gods?” Kari asked, her fiddling hands stilling. I wasn’t sure why I was telling her all of this. None of it mattered anymore. It hadn’t mattered for a long time now.

“Yes, though my civilization has since fallen. I consider Valhalla home now.”

“Sometimes, I forget there are other gods.”

It’d been so long since I spoke of my home, and I felt important details already slipping away. “There’s so much more out there than most people will ever know,” I admitted. “My people’s Allfather was not Odin. His name is Zeus, and he was our King of Gods.”

“Was?”

“He still lives, though his followers are scattered across his realm, no longer the strong civilization we once were. Thalassa, my original home, fell shortly after I was chosen to be a valkyrie, though unrelated, I assure you.” When I spoke, Kari absorbed every morsel of information she could, soaking in every syllable, every inflection.

Why was I still droning on about my past?

Getting to know her, and her getting to know me, wouldn’t help anyone.

She held up the dress in her hands. “Turn around, please.”

I did as she asked with an amused chuckle, remembering when I first joined the House of Wings. I’d been so awkward around my sisters, uncertain about changing before them, despite sharing a room with ten other girls.

When I heard the silk robe hit the floor, all thoughts of the early days with the sisterhood fled my mind.

I didn’t realize how many reflective surfaces there truly were in here until they all stood before me and tempted me with their shiny secrets.

I kept my eyes on the floor, much like Kari had, for fear I’d see something she’d rather me not.

Even on all those nights I watched her, never once did I allow myself to witness something I shouldn’t have.

I would reserve that honor until she begged it of me.

Only then would I fully admire her in all her very real glory. Glory that surely rivaled Odin’s.

I heard Kari turn around, and I assumed it was safe to lift my eyes.

The cream dress she wore was flowy and had the beauty of Valhalla’s finest. I’d never worn the dress myself, though I’d been gifted the piece from Odin.

I was proud to own it, even if I found that the fabric cut around the chest was far too low.

I preferred my leathers, but Kari, well… she was magnificent.

Her lips wobbled, and she raised a shaking palm to her shoulder. Before she could cover herself, I noticed splotches of red seeping through the cream capped sleeve of the dress, and she said, “I, I’m sorry. This dress is beautiful, but?—”

“We don’t have anything more practical here, unless you want to throw on some combat gear,” I cut her off, already on my way to inspect her wound. “Your bandages will need to be changed again and your wound healed. I will call for?—”

“No! I’ll do it,” she said, already peeling the sleeve of her dress off, biting her lip as she did. “I guess those healing waters weren’t so healing after all.”