Page 21

Waking from a deep slumber, Talvi stretched languidly. He felt great, more powerful and alive than he could remember. But as he sat up, he looked around in confusion. He’d thought he was in his own chambers with Hakon, but he found himself in a dilapidated hall or maybe an abandoned temple, everything covered by a light blanket of snow.

Hakon!

Looking around frantically, Talvi’s gaze fell upon his husband, and his heart stopped. Hakon lay just a few inches away from him, bound to a post and gagged. His hair was fanned around his head like a halo, his face smeared with tear tracks.

“Hakon,” Talvi whispered.

His memories were hazy, and Talvi wasn’t sure what exactly had happened. But his only concern was his husband right now. Carefully, he loosened the gag, brushing gentle hands down Hakon’s chest. Hakon’s breathing was uneven, his body wracked by sobs even in his unconscious state, but he was alive and Talvi couldn’t make out any major injuries. He undid the restraints next, gritting his teeth as he saw Hakon’s chafed wrists. He must’ve tried desperately to free himself.

“ Dróttning ?”

Hakon stirred and groaned, but he didn’t wake. Talvi needed to bring him home. His brave husband might be a Jotunn, but even his body had limits when it came to withstanding the cold, and Hakon was only clad in a flimsy shirt and leather breeches.

When Talvi stood up, his armor cut uncomfortably into his chest. Looking down at himself, he noticed that the leather was torn and frayed right above his heart, as if it had been pierced by a sword. But the skin beneath the tear was unscathed. Odd…

Lying on the ground next to a warrior’s corpse, he found Isbani and his own sword. Talvi nudged the dead body with his foot. Was that Brogar? Had they fought? The body showed the wounds of a sword fight, but the head looked like it had been crushed in by a paw strike. And to make things even stranger, the desolate place simmered with seier under the thin fabric of the worlds. He needed to get Hakon out of there.

Picking up his husband was easier than ever before. Securely, he cradled Hakon against his chest.

Hurrying out of the temple, Talvi whistled for his horse. Farandi whinnied and trotted out of the forest toward him. Placing Hakon on his horse’s back, Talvi mounted up behind him. He watched the increasingly heavy snowfall with concern. Wrapping his coat around Hakon’s shoulders, Talvi was pleased to see that Hakon leaned against him, nestling his head against his shoulder.

“Everything will be fine, dróttning . Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

“Talvi,” Hakon murmured but didn’t wake. He seemed to be completely exhausted, as if somebody had tried to drain his strength, his very essence.

The path through the forest was narrow, and the snow silenced Farandi’s hoofbeats. Talvi didn’t remember how he had gotten here. And to make things even more confusing, something about the forest seemed off. It was as if they weren’t traveling the familiar landscape of Vanaheim, but some unknown territory. Talvi could practically smell a strange seier in the air. It reminded him of Svanhild, and yet it felt different.

Time flowed sluggishly past them, and Talvi saw strange lights like stars and whole galaxies shining in the darkness between the trees. The temperature dropped, forcing Talvi to wrap his seier like a cloak around them to shield them from the bone-chilling cold. He found it surprisingly easy, even though the frost around felt deadly. Was this the path his mothers had been lured down? Had they lost their way among the stars? And how was Talvi supposed to bring Hakon safely back home?

Weaving another seier , Talvi conjured a vegvísir above his palm. Perhonen had taught him the spell; it should bring them home safely. But the magical compass trembled and started to spin around itself uncontrollably. Norns, he’d never seen anything like this. The vegvísir was designed to show even the pathways between the worlds, after all, created to allow safe passage along paths unknown.

Tightening his grip around Hakon’s waist, Talvi gritted his teeth. Hakon’s pale skin had an unhealthy, wan tone. He was weak and shivering despite Talvi’s cloak wrapped around him and the body heat they shared. They had to get back to Saeborg; Hakon needed a healer.

No, Talvi wouldn’t lose himself on the spiraling pathways along Yggdrasil’s branches. Gathering his seier , he reached out into the darkness. There had to be something familiar out there, something that could guide them. The vegvísir rotated faster, and Talvi held on to his seier with everything he had.

At the edge of his consciousness, he felt something reaching back for him. He knew that presence. Wild and powerful. The white bear.

“You may call me Isbani.”

Farandi pranced nervously as the polar bear appeared in front of them on the snowy path, and Talvi marveled at its beauty.

“Icebane,” he greeted Hakon’s spirit. “It suits you.”

The bear grimaced as if he was impatient with Talvi. It was as large a beast as Talvi had ever seen, his muzzle reddened with blood and his eyes gleaming a vivid blue like glacier ice.

“The vala escaped because you called me here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The vala with the sunny hair. The one that killed you.” The bear eyed him wearily. “You don’t look dead.”

“I’m not dead,” Talvi said indignantly.

Arching his long neck, Isbani tried to get a better look at Hakon.

“She killed you and tried to eat his broken heart,” the bear said as accusingly as a wild beast could ever hope to sound. “You let it happen.”

Talvi’s throat tightened. Was the bear right? The tear tracks on Hakon’s face. The crack in Talvi’s armor. Had Svanhild indeed killed him? Cold dread settled in Talvi’s gut. Hakon must’ve thought that he’d abandoned him, leaving him alone in the realm of the living. He must’ve been so desperate.

“But she can’t kill me,” Talvi argued weakly. “I’m a Vanr . I’m a god of the old days.”

Isbani grinned, showing off his razor-sharp teeth.

“Snow god doesn’t die, but does she know that?”

Snow god? Talvi had never seen himself that way. He’d always been a skillful vala, and as the son of two water goddesses, everyone had just assumed that he’d inherited their powers, that they’d manifest in time. But now Talvi could feel the strength of the icy wilderness thrumming under his fingertips; the power of glaciers, snowstorms, and mighty waterways turned to ice. It was only fitting he’d married a frost giant. Could this be his calling?

“I guess she doesn’t know about this…winter thing,” Talvi said. “But Hakon needs to rest. Can you show us the way back to Vanaheim?”

Growling, the bear turned.

“Follow me.”

They arrived at the fortress in the deepest winter. Talvi could sense the heavy snowfall surrounding him, following him. But it didn’t feel like he was crushing the harvest. No, it felt only right to blanket Vanaheim with snow, and the city was decorated as if the Yule festivities weren’t far away.

Norns, what was going on? How much time had passed while they were wandering around between the worlds?

Hiding them from view so they could slip into the citadel undetected, Talvi went right to his chambers. He wasn’t in the mind to explain himself to Arngrim or one of his guards. First, he had to look after Hakon, and then he would have to talk to Perhonen.

Nudging the door to the tactic room open with his hip, Talvi slipped inside, Hakon still cradled securely in his arms and the bear at his side. He headed straight for their bedchamber but stopped dead in his tracks as he found his chambers weren’t deserted.

Hunched over the enchanted model of the Nine Worlds stood Perhonen. Her robe was black and formal, her demeanor gloomy and sorrowful, and she was weaving a complicated seier .

“Anything new?”

Wearing the armor of Saeborg’s guards, a Jotunn warrior was looking over her shoulder. Gudrun. Hakon’s sworn ally. She looked as worried as Perhonen.

“I don’t know.” Perhonen grimaced. “It feels like they’re so close. If I could just—”

Talvi dropped the cloak of disguise surrounding them.

Gasping, Perhonen whirled around. “Talvi!”

“By the gods, you came back!” Gudrun was with them in a blink, crushing Talvi and Hakon in a hug. “What happened? What’s wrong with Hakon? Where have you been?” She was babbling, on the verge of tears. “And from what dark place does this damn bear come?”

“This is Isbani. He belongs to Hakon.”

“He killed that thing on his quest?” Gudrun squeaked.

“Well…yes.”

“He was twelve back then—” Gudrun trailed off.

A strange feeling swept over Talvi. This was his home now. Hakon. Perhonen. And Gudrun, a warrior he didn’t know very well, but who was so dear to Hakon that Talvi had the feeling that she belonged to him too. But where was Arngrim?

“We have to get Hakon in bed,” Talvi said. “You have to have a look at him, Perhonen. Svanhild cast an ill seier over him.”

“Svanhild,” Perhonen hissed. “This damned viper.”

But she was already following him into the private chambers, as was Gudrun. Perhonen stoked the fire, and Gudrun was fluffing up the blankets so he could lay Hakon down on the bed.

“Get him out of his clothes,” Perhonen said. “And you should get into bed with him. Warm him up.”

Gudrun helped him out of his armor with practiced movements.

“Norns, what happened to your harness?”

“Svanhild, well—she stabbed me,” Talvi said, uneasiness creeping over him. How would Perhonen react when she found out what had happened? And Gudrun. Instead of traveling to the Halls of the Dead, he had returned, and Talvi hoped he was able to do that for Hakon’s sake. But would the others see it the same way, or would they be horrified?

Perhonen froze.

“I shall rule over Vanaheim while you’re dead,” she said. “And I did. And you came back.”

“I told you that prophecies aren’t to be taken literally,” Talvi said.

Smiling ruefully, Perhonen ruffled his hair.

“Leave it to you, boy, to defy Lady Hel and come back with the power of winter. You have done well, Talvinen. But I worry Arngrim has allowed the fear of the prophecy to lead him astray.”

“What are you talking about?”

Slipping into bed with Hakon, Talvi was overcome by a dark premonition. He was so grateful that Perhonen and Gudrun were here with him, helping Hakon. But Arngrim was missing, and Talvi couldn’t help but worry—

“After you left to look for Hakon alone, Arngrim was so worried, distraught, even. And when you didn’t come back, he went searching for you alone.”

Perhonen’s words brought back the memories of that fateful night with full force. How he’d chatted with Astrid during the feast, how he’d turned around for just a minute and Hakon had disappeared. How Arngrim had tried to convince him that Hakon had escaped, probably to feed his father all the information he’d gathered during his time at Talvi’s side. But Talvi hadn’t believed it for a second. Not for a second. So he’d ridden off to bring his husband back on his own. He could imagine Arngrim had been furious.

“We think Arngrim was the one who sold Hakon out to our enemies,” Gudrun said, watching him with a worried expression. “I’m sorry. I know he was your friend.”

“What?” No. That couldn’t be. Arngrim wouldn’t do that. He promised Talvi he’d talk to Hakon, to make peace with Talvi’s decision.

“We tried to find out where you had disappeared to. And we discovered Hakon was last seen talking to Arngrim,” Perhonen explained, a deep sadness lacing her words.

“We wanted to confront him,” Gudrun said, and Talvi could tell how angry and desperate she’d been. “But he’d already fled.”

“He left a note saying he was looking for you, swearing he would bring you back, but I—I could feel that there was something off, something he wasn’t telling us,” Perhonen said.

“Doesn’t take a seeress to notice that,” Gudrun added. “He hated Hakon. He was jealous of him.”

Perhonen put a calming hand on Gudrun’s shoulder. “I fear Gudrun is right.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and took Hakon’s hands. With a whispered word she healed the chafing around his wrists before putting a hand on his brow, eyes glazing over for a second.

Turning his focus back to Hakon, Talvi tried to block out the implications of Perhonen’s words. Maybe this was a misunderstanding.

“He’ll get well again. Whatever seier Svanhild used, Hakon withstood it,” Perhonen finally said. “He just needs some rest.”

Gudrun exhaled with relief. “Thank you for bringing him back.”

“Always.”

Overcome by tiredness, Talvi yawned. Hakon had finally stopped trembling and was breathing deeply. And to make him rest a little easier still, Talvi put a hand on his chest and let his seier connect them; surrounding and protecting Hakon. Isbani crawled to the foot of the bed to settle there like an overgrown hunting dog.

“Freyja’s tits,” Gudrun breathed as she watched the bear getting comfortable at their feet. “First the two of you are gone for months, and now you come back in the middle of a snowstorm with a white bear following you like a puppy.”

“Isbani showed us the way back,” Talvi said fondly, feeling himself starting to drift.

He only vaguely sensed Perhonen pulling Gudrun away by her sleeve as he nuzzled closer to Hakon. They were back home. Arngrim’s mess could be sorted out in the morning.