Page 16 of Between Broomsticks and Beating Wings (Love X Magic #3)

‘You did!” she cut off my verbal denial, seeing right through me.

“I’m four thousand years old, and you are but a child.

You don’t create a land away from the Allfather’s eye without the motivation or the knowledge to do so.

I had to know what he is to know to hide from him.

And because I know him like I do, I know he would have never told you to steal a mortal from Midgard. ”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, avoiding áma’s knowing gaze for the first time since I’d sat down.

Gods, the Asgardian woman could see right through me. What did I think would happen if I brought Kari here?

“They were going to kill you,” I gritted through my teeth, ignoring áma completely. This wasn’t about her, not really. She was just how fate decided to force my hand.

Kari’s eyes burned into me as she said, “And?”

My lip twitched as if a fly had landed upon them. My brows pulled in, and I looked her over. “And what?”

“How is that a reason? You see death nightly. It’s your entire existence,” she said, the light of the fire flicking through her gaze, as if her anger transmuted into pure heat.

I stared at her, tracing the edge of her dress with my gaze as I did.

My attention fixed on that little corner of the bandage sticking out, and I wondered how much pain she was still in, if any.

It’d been so long since I’d had a wound of my own.

My fingers pinched the exposed flesh of my neck to remember the sensation of pain, but also to wake me from this trance she always seemed to send me into.

Her words rang in my mind, sending waves of awareness through me. My life was death. If death was my very existence, wouldn’t I know better than anyone that the future I altered on her behalf was warranted?

“You didn’t deserve to die,” I finally muttered.

“Did the thousands of people who you brought into Valhalla over the years deserve to die?” she asked.

“Well, no, but most of them died before I arrived. I couldn’t intervene.”

“Most . What about the ones you did see die? Why didn’t you help them?” she asked.

A sigh slipped through my lips, and I began wishing she’d go back to her injury-induced rest. How easy she’d been under the throws of sleep. “Because I have oaths to uphold,” I said.

“Yet you didn’t uphold them with me, did you?”

I pushed myself out of my seat, running a hand through the loose ends of my hair. “Are you angry I saved your life?”

“Of course not. I simply want to know why I’m here.

This is my life! Or, it’s meant to be. I, I don’t even know what my life means anymore, or if I still have one,” she admitted with a wince.

“I had visions of you taking me. As distorted as they were, I now know what I saw, though I still don’t understand why. But you have the answers I need.”

Visions of me?

I’d watched the seeress for years, scribbling on birch bark, stoking fires, drinking tea, speaking to spirits. What she did each time she closed her eyes evaded me, but knowing she dreamt of me sent a tickle up my spine.

“You have a life,” I resigned. “I brought you here to ensure that. I took you on a drunken impulse. Is that what you want to hear?”

“A drunken impulse?” she scoffed. “If you’d let me die, I would’ve been with my family in a realm of death. Because you took me, I’m here without my family, and now, I must run and hide. You caused nothing but complications for me.”

Her words sat with me as I reclaimed my seat, and in my heart of hearts, her speech held a truth I couldn’t fight.

Her complaints were valid, and were why we had rules and oaths in the first place.

Rayna’s complaints about me stealing the seeress’ death played through my mind, but how could I regret bringing her here?

She was made for so much more than death.

“I complicated things, yes, but when has ‘easy’ ever meant right?” I asked, and that sentiment finally ended her string of demanding questions.

Her shoulders fell, and she leaned back into the bench.

Even áma grew quiet, but my intention was never to shut her up.

I just needed her to see she was worth more than what she thought she was.

It wasn’t her time to be with her family yet, and I was intent on proving that to her.

Night after night, I watched her. Night after night, she’d proven how much she deserved not just her world, but my world too.

The silence ate at me, and I found a question rising to my lips just so I could hear her speak once more. “What’s wrong with your face?”

When Kari’s hand flew to her cheek in horror, I pushed out further explanation with haste, realizing what I said came out as an insult. “You screamed, looking into my mirror.”

“Oh,” Kari said, glancing over to áma, as if the two of them now harbored some secret. áma gave her a nod of approval, which rubbed me in all the wrong ways. Why did the old crone have any say in what the seeress told me?

“I’m cursed. Well, I was. Somehow, it’s been lifted,” Kari said, twisting her hands in her lap.

“You’re…what?” I stuttered. My eyes scanned over her, wondering how I could have missed such a thing. You’d think after watching her all this time, I would have realized something was amiss. But what was it?

I thought of each time she stumbled around my bed and bathing chambers, how she grew uneasy the moment she stepped in front of a reflective surface.

I thought of the cloth coverings that hung on her longhouse walls, though I’d always assumed paintings of her family hid beneath the dusty fabric.

Maybe they weren’t paintings at all, but mirrors.

“Why can’t you look at yourself in a mirror?” I asked slowly, not completely certain I’d figured it out just yet but willing to take the risk.

“My eyes.” Kari paused to take a deep, shaky breath. “They always appeared rotten. I couldn’t stand the sight of them. The puss that oozed out of the rotting flesh was too much to bear, even if it was all a cruel illusion.”

“Was that the first time you looked into a reflective surface since arriving in Valhalla?”

Kari nodded her head. “It was. My curse could’ve lifted the moment you brought me here for all I know.”

“It mostly likely did,” áma said. “In the morning, I can speak to the residual traces of it in your body and use its unique signature to determine who placed it and what limits the curse has.”

“I know who placed it,” Kari mumbled, grabbing her tea sitting upon the table situated between us.

“Who?” áma and I asked in unison.

Kari shifted uncomfortably before her pink lips parted, and she uttered, “Hel.”

I stared at her as I took in her perplexing admission. “Hel? Why? What did you do that caused the goddess of death to curse you?” I asked.

“Not me directly. It’s an ancestral curse,” Kari explained. “And I wish I could tell you why. That information died with my relatives long ago. All I know is that it impacts the first-born daughters of every generation. My mother and I were cursed, but my younger sisters were not.”

I nodded but remained silent, letting her words sink in, hoping áma would have some useful information. I could pluck souls from bodies, see people’s final moments, and lift things far heavier than what my body should’ve allowed, but I knew very little of curses, especially ones bestowed by Hel.

“Ancestral curse, huh?” áma asked with a slight shake of her head.

She pushed herself from the padded bench with a groan.

“You two girls can stay up and talk about this until you're blue in the face, but his old body needs its beauty sleep, and no solution will be found until I do. We can talk more in the morning. We’ll have work to do, that’s for sure. ”

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 the only 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 I hadn’t trailed each of them with my sharp gaze, counting them as they fell.