Page 2 of The Viking in the Vault (Galactic Librarians #2)

ELENA

B y the time I make it home, night has already fallen on Snowveil–the town surrounding the Eiskammer.

This time of year, we only get around two hours of daylight anyway, but the northern lights are enough to illuminate the landscape.

The shimmer of green and purple streaks across the sky, reflected in the snow like a painting.

For a second, I pause to take it in, but the biting cold on my cheeks forces me forward.

I shiver as I tap in the code at my door, then let myself in and shut it behind me.

I keep the cottage warm–too warm, according to Ves, but Ves isn’t human.

Plus, they’re not from Florida, which runs at a consistent ninety degrees.

I shrug off my coat and scarf and hang them on a hook by the door, then I light the fire in the fireplace before collapsing into the loveseat in front of it.

I pull a thick woven blanket around my shoulders and reach for my holopad, scrolling to the call app almost by instinct.

My sisters and my mom are waiting for our nightly call, and I can’t wait to unload after the day I just had.

The screen flickers for a moment before Marcy’s face appears, the house in chaos behind her. I see a flash of her twins sprinting around and shrieking in the background as Marcy laughs, then looks back at me.

“Elena!” she says, and the sound of my name coming out of my sister’s mouth makes the tension melt away. I smile back.

“Hey, Marcy,” I grin. “You’re looking…chaotic.”

“Mom’s making empanadas with the kids…or at least she was, before they decided it was time for tag instead,” Marcy says, glancing back at her kids as they make another lap.

Marcy is a single mom–has been since she was nineteen, before I left for M’mir–and has more patience than seems possible.

“It’s a mess, but it smells amazing. You should be here. ”

“I wish I was,” I say, smiling even though my chest aches. It’s been four years since I left Earth, but moments like this make it feel like longer.

Behind her, my youngest sister, Lisette, leans into the frame, her cheek smudged with flour. At sixteen, she’s the baby of the three of us–but she’s definitely grown up a lot since I left Earth four years ago. “Is that Elena?” Lisette asks. “Hey, big sis!”

“I thought you were supposed to be helping Mom,” Marcy teases.

“I was, but she kicked me out so I could wrangle the twins,” Lisette says.

“And what are you doing now?”

“Talking to my sister.”

Marcy shoves her playfully. “You’ll get your turn,” she says. “Let us catch up first.”

“Fine,” Lisette drawls, rolling her eyes–then she points at the camera. “But Elena, don’t you dare hang up until we get to talk.”

“I won’t,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Now go wrangle those kids, Lis.”

Lisette runs off, and a second later I see her with a kid under each arm, the twins laughing hysterically. Marcy is watching them, smiling, then she turns back to me.

“So how are things in the Eiskammer?” Marcy asks, brushing a dark curl away from her face. “Still freezing your ass off?”

“Pretty much,” I say, shifting under my blanket. “Work’s been…well, not too great. I got chewed out by my supervisor today for being five minutes late, and she banned me from going to a deeper section of the archive.”

Marcy’s brow furrows. “Why?”

“Well, she claims it’s because there was a small earthquake and it isn’t safe…but I’m not entirely sure she doesn’t just want me working on her project,” I gripe. “I need to access those cores, Marcy. Without them, I won’t finish my research in time, and if I miss this deadline…”

“You’ll figure it out,” Marcy says quickly, voice firm. “You’re the smartest person I know, Elena. My brilliant sister, off studying on another planet…”

“I don’t think her ego needs any more help, Marcy!” Lisette calls from somewhere off camera.

“Hey!” Marcy calls back. “Be nice.”

Lisette barges back into the screen. “I’m just saying,” she says. “Elena’s smart, sure, but she’s also the queen of stressing herself out.”

“I don’t–” I start, but the look on her face makes me stop.

She’s right, and we all know it.

“Elena,” Marcy says, her tone shifting to more serious. “You’re doing incredible work. We’re so proud of you. But you don’t have to carry the whole world on your shoulders, you know? We’re okay. Mom’s okay. You don’t have to…you know, save us.”

I blink, not knowing what to say. Of course I would never frame it that way…but she’s spot on.

I feel like I’m the only one who can save Santa Rosa–who can save Earth, given our shrinking coastlines and disappearing cities.

If the world ends, it’ll be on my shoulders. I’ll be the one who failed to stop it.

“It’s not just about you,” I murmur. “It’s about Santa Rosa, about making sure the town doesn’t…” My voice falters, and I swallow hard. Every hurricane is a threat, every year is another step toward my family home vanishing completely. “I can’t just sit back and let everything fall apart.”

Lisette leans closer to the camera, her smirk softening. “We know, and we love you for it. But Marcy’s right. Don’t burn yourself out for us, Elena. You’re more important than this house, okay? And we’ll figure it out. Us Draycott girls always do.”

The weight of their words settles heavily on me. I want to believe them, but how can I? They don’t see the data I do. They don’t know how fragile the balance is.

For a moment, I sit there and stare at their faces on the screen. The chaos behind them feels so far removed from my quiet, icy little cottage, and yet it’s all I want to be a part of.

I want to go home. I want it so badly it hurts.

“Okay,” I breathe.

Marcy smiles, and Lisette flashes me a peace sign before the twins come barreling through the frame, screaming something about wanting more arepas. The three of us burst into laughter, and for a few minutes, the ache in my chest feels a little lighter.

We talk for a while longer, catching up on family gossip and the latest antics of Marcy’s kids. But eventually, the call ends, and the screen goes dark. The quiet rushes back in, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

I curl deeper into the blanket, staring at the fire as it flickers in the hearth. My sisters’ words play over and over in my head, but they don’t bring the comfort I think they were meant to. If anything, they only make the weight of the deadline—and the importance of my work—feel heavier.

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s late, but not too late.

My gaze drifts to the satchel by the door, packed with everything I need for the archive.

I told myself I’d let it go, that I’d listen to Ren and focus on what’s safe. But sitting here, thinking about Santa Rosa and my family, I know I can’t just wait. I can’t risk failure—not when there’s so much on the line.

I pull the blanket tighter around me, steeling myself against the decision I already know I’ve made.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to the Eiskammer.

And this time, no one is going to stop me.