Page 15 of Polestar (The Global Paranormal Security Agency #3)

FOURTEEN

M agnus glanced at the dials and adjusted a few settings on the cockpit panel.

Next to him, Ana occupied the co-pilot’s chair, tense but quiet. At least she didn’t have a mask over her lovely eyes this time.

She tentatively glanced out of the window again, each time for a little longer.

And when the sun crested the horizon, her gasp of awe sent a thrum through his heart.

The view from well above bird’s eye was incredible. One reason he loved flying.

The other, the speed and danger-control factor, was also the reason he enjoyed driving fast cars and motorcycles.

Something Ana would learn about in time.

He cast her another glance, wondering what he would learn about her?

Soon, she relaxed and spent most of her time peering down from her side window.

“That’s Norway below us?”

“Yes, we’ll be landing on the easterly tip then going the rest of the way by amphibious plane. Barentia doesn’t have a landing strip.”

She nodded.

“What do I need to know about Barentia?”

“Stay close. There won’t be a warm welcome. I’ll find an excuse to stay at least a day or two. You’re not a polar bear, or even a shifter, so expect some intimidation.”

She nodded.

“Don’t be afraid to make your taser visible. Keep your handgun well hidden.”

Her fingers drummed her knee as she looked down at the ocean and mountains.

“What are these prophecies that Kane mentioned?”

Magnus sighed. He was the one that had said Ana had a right to know. But Kane hadn’t offered any more on the subject. “It’s best if she explains it all.”

“Cliffs’ notes?”

“Kane’s been around a long time. Long time. And she’s been collecting information about ancient prophecies. That’s why she came to Barentia in the first place. She believed there was a link between my homeland and the information she was studying.”

“Which is?”

Magnus shrugged. “She and my father and the old shaman had long, long discussions on the matter. Something to do with a gateway of sorts.”

“What does this have to do with the trafficking ring we’re investigating?”

“Nothing. Everything.” He rubbed a hand over his face.

“She asked for two things. Help with the prophecies and help fighting against the growing practice of shifters exploiting humans. My father sent her away and told me never to deal with her when he was gone—when I became king of the clan. Barentians never get involved with human affairs. When I pushed him on it, he said that we would do as we’d always done; keep to our own and shut the world out.

That I wasn’t ready yet. The shaman said little on the matter, beyond how vital it was that we protect our territory, to keep the darkness away. ”

“Sounds very cryptic.”

“Yeah, well, my father was incensed that I went to talk to Kane myself and find out what she had to say on the matter. Her view was that whatever was coming, every civilization had a responsibility to fight against those that would use this darkness which the shaman had mentioned. Made sense to me.”

“Your father disagreed.”

Magnus nodded. “We continued to argue in the following weeks and months. Kane tried again. He demanded she never return. I, being young and impatient, challenged him. Turns out Ulla also disagreed with my viewpoint, and had been putting words in my father’s ear.

There was another heir—my son. The clan didn’t need me. ”

Magnus gave his attention to the flight gauges for a few moments, to shake the lingering emotions for his ex-wife.

Ana maintained her silence.

“Uphold our insular traditions, or go. The Clan or Kane. My heart said to stay and shut the fuck up. My gut told me I had to go.”

It was far, far more complicated than that.

“You trust her? More than your father?”

Magnus shrugged. “Instinct.”

She didn’t ask why he didn’t just wait out his father’s rule, or why he chose a stranger over his family—his son.

He’d had a decade to study his choices. Swallow his regrets.

To work with Kane, even though his absence from Barentia meant she didn’t have the ally she’d sought in that territory.

Some days, it felt like it was all for nothing.

Considering the struggle to protect humans from exploitive paranormals, Magnus had done a lot, but it wasn’t enough.

“So, you’re not welcome. Humans aren’t welcome. They know we’re agents.”

“They know I work for the GPSA. They may assume the same of you, or not. But as a human, they can’t automatically assume you’re a threat of any kind. Anyone else would put them on their guard.”

Magnus flicked several switches and began their descent toward land.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

F ear pounded through Ana’s chest as they left the seaplane tied to a simple dock and began the trek up the snow-covered path toward the fishing village.

Somewhere on the eastern tip of Norway, they’d landed and switched to the smaller amphibious aircraft for the rest of the journey.

She struggled to control her heart rate.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she checked for cell service, holding it up in various directions, trying to catch something .

They would smell her fear, making her an easy target.

She laughed at herself, tucking her phone away.

She was already an easy target. A human on an island full of powerful shifters, but she also wasn’t helpless. Her fingers ghosted over her weapons before she drew a breath. On its release, she opened her senses.

Time to get to work.

Barentia, like everywhere else in this part of the globe, was comprised of mountainous islands rising out of the steely waters of the north. The world was all shades of gray and blue, white and black, with little variety in between. Even the coniferous trees appeared more black than green.

Without looking at her, Magnus reached out to squeeze her glove-covered hand as several villagers came out to see who’d interrupted their daily routine of coastal life.

Magnus’ name drifted between individuals until a stoic older woman emerged from the gathering crowd of astonished faces.

Surprise, disdain, and hostility rippled through the air.

Magnus’ appearance pleased some villagers, but you wouldn’t know it to look at their craggy, sea-worn faces.

She felt it.

They looked from Magnus to Ana, and moved aside.

The old woman stood at the top of the path. She looked like any of the other villagers. Magnus stopped before her, head bowed.

Ana didn’t understand Barentian, but through observing their facial expressions, body language and psychic energy, she got the gist of what was going on.

Magnus and the older woman exchanged a few words before she turned her back on them. Magnus followed her. Ana followed him.

The elder woman led them to an ornately carved wooden structure where a boy awaited her. With a few sharp words from the woman, the boy’s gaze darted between her, Magnus and Ana, then he set off like an Olympic sprinter along another path that led away from the ocean.

Magnus whispered to Ana as he held the door opened for her to precede him inside the building. “The boy will send a message to alert my father that we have arrived.”

Moving into the space felt like stepping into an energy cloud. The hairs on her arms rose.

Magnus whispered close to her ear. “As a banished one, I’m not welcome in resident’s homes, but the temple is a place open to all.”

With Ana’s senses open, and the high energy of the place, Magnus’ proximity made her skin tingle even through the layers of clothing until he stepped away again.

She nodded, gaze sweeping the beautifully crafted interior lit by braziers. At the far end of the open space, an altar filled the far wall.

The village temple. The woman was no doubt its priestess.

Ana approached the altar. Touching nothing, she inspected the symbols and offerings.

None looked anything like the sigil imprinted on Aksel’s throat.

The elder appeared next to her.

Ana turned toward her, met and held her gaze before offering her hand. “I’m Analiese Ortega.”

“Beyla Jorgansdotter.” The woman shook her hand with a firm grip. The corner of her thin lips tilted upward as she assessed Ana. With a short laugh, she turned toward a table with a pitcher and glasses, speaking to Magnus over her shoulder as she poured.

“She says I’ve brought you here to clean up my mess,” Magnus said.

“What is she talking about?”

Magnus relayed the question and translated the elder’s answer.

“She says things haven’t been the same since I left the clan. My father is different. More conflict among Barentians than is usual. And in recent years, a gang seems to have formed.”

“A gang?”

“Young Barentians rove from village to village, recruiting the strongest among them to join their gang, and off they go.” He paused, listening as the elder continued to talk.

“At first, they thought the king was forming an additional guard to protect the territory from what the priests and priestesses knew was the coming darkness, but it seems not to be the case.”

“What are they doing?”

She shrugged. “No good,” she said in English, her accent thick as she handed them each a glass.

Ana sniffed at the liquid.

“Barentian ale,” Magnus said with a smile. He drank the entire glass. “Ah, I’ve missed this stuff.”

“What did she mean, your father is different?” Ana took a tentative sip.

“I assume it means he’s accepting outsiders to the island now, since we weren’t met at spear point when we arrived at the dock.”

“Except that’s what you argued about and were banished for?”

Magnus nodded.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the door before it opened. The young boy appeared, chest heaving, speaking between breaths.

“He notified the relay. We can go,” Magnus said.

Ana turned to offer her thanks to the woman for her hospitality.

The elder went to the altar, glanced along its surface and retrieved an artifact, cradling it on her palm as she returned to Magnus and Ana.

The elder reached for Ana’s hand, surprising her.

Magnus translated her words. “Don’t let the darkness touch your heart when it comes; but even the light can be a barrier. And when it’s imperative to open your heart, the bear will be your polestar.”

Ana looked at the talisman in her hand. A polar bear carved in polished ivory. Flipping it over, she studied the etched symbol on its back. The top of the talisman had a drilled hole with a metal link so it could be worn on a necklace or bracelet.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling Gran’s rosary and crucifix from her pocket while the woman continued to speak to Magnus directly.

Ana attached the bear talisman next to the crucifix, considering it.

She was about to tuck it all back into her pocket when, instead, she looped it around her wrist and tucked it under her shirt cuff.

Maybe it’s just the weird warning about light and dark.

Or how the village elder reminded her of her grandmother.

Or something else entirely that Ana couldn’t define.

Priestess Beyla Jorgansdotter led Magnus and Ana back out of the temple so that they might continue their journey.

The villagers had remained outside all that time, and observed their departure inland. Their somber faces, hopeful auras, and the elder’s strange warnings coiled through Ana, twisting up her insides, adding to her deep unease about this mission.

Despite the mention of outsiders no longer denied access to Barentian territory, she doubted an extraction team could rescue them, should things go wrong—as her gut told her they inevitably would.