Fate Undone (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 5) (21 page)

He nodded.
 

“I’m going to tell my boss, Warren, what’s going on,” she said.

“He’s in charge of the Praesidium, right? How can you know he’s not involved?”

“I
know
, all right? Give me some credit for being able to read people. We won’t tell him you were the one who broke out of the prison disguised as Ian, but even if I explained it to him, I’m sure I could have him on our side in that too.”

“Fine. How can Warren help us?”

“It’s not him, exactly. It’s his wife and her sister. Esha and Aurora are soulceresses.”

“Shit.” That would be enormously helpful. Soulceresses drew their power from the immortal souls of other Mytheans. Not only were they powerful sorceresses, they weakened whoever they fought with their mere proximity. “If we use them well, it won’t matter overly much what type of Mythean the Retaliator is or what he’s got guarding him. The sisters will minimize his powers.”

“Exactly.” She stood and went to the door, grabbing her coat from the hook. “Come on, we’ve got some soulceresses to recruit.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The bow of the
Amerfisk
crashed into the trough of a wave for what felt like the millionth time. Gray ocean waves surged beneath an iron sky as sea spray misted Sylvi’s face from her spot at the bow railing. The Barents Sea was not a friendly place. They’d been at sea for nearly thirty hours and had another twenty to go.

“Gotta love that breeze!” Esha called over the whipping wind.

Sylvi glanced over to see her taller friend grinning into the gale, her black hair whipping back over her shoulders. She held her familiar in her arms so that he could see over the rail. Chairman Meow had propped his big paws on the bow railing as he gazed out at the waves through citrine eyes. His longish black fur whipped in the wind. From the way his fangs were bared, it looked like he was smiling.

Weird cat.

“He really likes this boat!” Esha yelled. “It must be that it smells like fish, because he’s not normally one for the water.”

“That makes one of us, then.” Sylvi yelled back. After she and Logan had spoken to Warren and Esha, they’d headed north to Tromsø, Norway to find a boat. As Sylvi had hoped, Esha and her sister Aurora had come along. Warren had as well, though she hadn’t expected it. He’d never been much for killing, but he hadn’t been about to let Esha go into battle without him, no matter how capable she was. Even Ian had managed to make it because Fiona was doing much better. Vivienne was looking after her at the hotel in Jordan, though it probably wasn’t necessary. Because Ian was still considered a prison escapee, it’d taken Sylvi more than an hour to convince Warren not to turn him in. But once she’d laid out what was at stake, Warren had agreed they’d needed Ian’s help. And it wasn’t like Ian was a mass murderer. Just a thief who’d caused some serious magical chaos a century ago.

It’d only taken them four hours in the Norwegian town and half a million krone to find a Mythean fisherman who was willing to take them the thousand kilometers north to Svalbard. He spoke little English and asked few questions, which was as good as could be hoped for from their circumstance.

“What’s with you and Logan?” Esha asked. “It’s as tense as a witch’s tit between you two.”

Sylvi debated pretending that she hadn’t heard her, but the Chairman looked at her with interest. Even the cat had noticed. “That’s not how that saying goes. But we’re fine. Nothing interesting there!”

“Liar.”

“It doesn’t matter if there’s anything there. We had something once, but he was a total, incurable asshole. When I needed him most, he rejected me. I sacrificed my place in Asgard for him and he rejected me. It took me centuries to get over it.”
If she ever had.
“I’m not going to make the same mistake again.”

“I’m sorry.” Esha squeezed her shoulder. “I had no idea there was so much between the two of you.”

“It’s fine. It’s over.” Her throat burned with the memories and Esha’s sympathy. She always got weepy when someone was sympathetic to her plight. One pat on the back and the waterworks burst forth.

“Chairman probably wants to get a start on dinner. Why don’t I give you a minute up here?” Esha clearly sensed Sylvi’s desperate desire to be alone so she could get herself together.

“Thanks. That’d be great.”

Once Esha and the Chairman were gone, Sylvi sucked in the cold air and tried not to think of the worst days of her life.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Norway, on Midgard

1213 AD

Sharp rocks cut into Sigyn’s hands as she scrambled over the tumbled stones that dotted the mountainside. The breath heaved in and out of her lungs as she tried to stay on her feet, but ever since the snake’s venom had dripped onto her hands several days ago, she’d been immensely weak.

Tears dripped down her face as she tried to shove the memory aside. She kept trying to scrub them away, but no matter what she did or how hard she wished not to cry, she couldn’t stop. The memory of Freya finding her collapsed at the site of Loki’s imprisonment blared in her mind.

Her mother—her teacher—had been enraged. As had the other gods. But it was the sight of her mother’s eyes, so dark and angry, that wouldn’t leave Sigyn’s mind. Her words echoed in her memory.

“I took a risk in creating you.” Freya’s voice had been harsh with disappointment. “Never before has a being been created from a union with magic. The other gods disagreed with my choice, but I’d thought you might follow in my footsteps. I was wrong. You are too foolish to be trusted with magic and I am a fool for having ever created you.”

Freya had turned from her then and left, leaving a weeping Sigyn crumpled at the base of the rock upon which Loki had been chained. Before she’d realized what was happening, the other gods had banished her to Midgard. The aether had sucked her away from her home and deposited her on the cold ground of the realm of mortals.

She was
banished.
 

A harsh sob escaped her. Had it been worth it? Freeing Loki after he’d knowingly committed a crime that would doom him? And with him, her?

It didn’t matter anymore. She was banished from her home. From her dreams.
 

And now she sought the one who had led her down this path. Because of her spell to help him aetherwalk to Midgard, her soul called to his. She was near. Of all the places she could have sent him, she’d chosen a gods-forsaken mountain in the north.
 

Finally, she caught sight of pale skin against green moss and gray rocks. She sobbed in relief and horror to have finally found him. Relief, for she was grateful he was safe. Horror, for this was what her life would be now. The man she cared for, desperately wounded and exiled to this raw, terrible land.

Wind whipped her hair into her face as she raced across the rocks toward him, tripping in her haste to climb the dreadful mountain. She fell to her knees beside Loki. His skin was nearly gray, his face gaunt. He was worse than he had been when they’d parted days ago.

But he was a god, still immortal. Though that didn’t protect him from the poison. It might not kill him, but it could come close. Gods, like Mytheans, could live forever as long as ghastly magic or beheading didn’t find them. No one knew where gods went when they died—certainly not to an afterworld like Mytheans and mortals—but wherever it was, Sigyn was certain she’d never be able to find him again.

That idea terrified her.

She clambered to her feet and dragged his unconscious body toward the mouth of a cave nearby. Apparently this had been the best she could do when she’d tried to send him to a safe place on Midgard. There were no mortals or beastly threats here, but it was as unwelcoming as hell itself surely was.

Sigyn was panting by the time she pulled Loki’s form over the threshold into the cave. She had her magic, but she’d need to save it for important things like fire and food.

It took hours for her to get Loki into a dry section of the cave and to build a fire and conjure food. She was immensely grateful that her staff still came to her when she called and that she could still use it to manifest the magic she’d been taught by Freya. Her weakness from the snake’s venom still plagued her and slowed her attempts at seidr, but the ability wasn’t gone from her entirely.

After she had Loki’s wounds bound with cloth and he was wrapped in a blanket that she’d conjured, she sat in front of the fire that she’d built. The flickering flames highlighted the unconscious form of the man she’d cared for and cast shadows into the cave.

A yawning emptiness opened inside her chest. She was gone from Asgard and would be forever. The pain of that thought was nearly enough to swallow her whole. She lay down on her side and stared into the flames, her eyes gritty with tears.

She’d have to make a life here on Midgard, but how? She would care for Loki and perhaps he would get better, but could she forgive him for his actions?

She didn’t care what he’d done—she only cared that he’d done it and gotten them into this situation when she’d begged him not to. Why had she ever fallen for him? Why had he pursued her? How could this now be her life?

The warmth had returned. Through the crushing fog of pain and coldness, Loki could perceive the faintest warmth on his shoulder.

He wanted to reach out, to grasp at the warmth. On the few occasions he’d managed to crack his eyes open, he’d seen her. The golden one who had banished the coldness, if only for a moment. Whenever she laid her hand upon his shoulder, he felt less empty. Less alone in the cold misery of his broken body.

No matter how hard he tried to cling to the warmth, to stay conscious long enough to open his eyes and catch a glimpse of her, he couldn’t. The cold blackness took him again.

He saw her and felt her countless other times as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Several times, he almost had the strength to speak. But his mouth wouldn’t open. If it had, he didn’t know if he’d have been able to form words. The pain that devoured his chest was so great he wondered if he even had lungs to make the breath that would carry his words to her.

It felt like centuries had passed before he could finally open his eyes long enough to take in the dark cave in which he lay. A small fire cast warm light upon the stone walls, bouncing off rocks and throwing shadows in the darkest recesses.

Out of the corner of his eye, a motion caught his attention.
 

Her. The woman of warmth and light.

When she moved toward him, the light caught on her face, highlighting fine features and gleaming golden hair. Memories crashed into him.
 

Sigyn
. Despair followed. For no matter how badly he wanted to grasp onto her warmth, he could not. Wherever they were, it was a place he could not allow her to stay.

“You’re awake.” Relief was thick in her voice.

“Where are we?”

“Midgard. Somewhere in the north.”

“
How?
”

The story that she told him, of the snake and her sacrifice, of the two months that she’d spent tending the terrible wound on his chest, horrified him.
She’d been banished.
Because of him. Because she’d helped him. When he’d taken his vengeance on the gods, he’d known he’d be punished. He’d even known she’d suffer for it. But not to this extent.