Dead Radiance (24 page)

The dog yipped. Off in the distance, his master called from the night again, a hollow yell edged with irritation. "Rex, heel! Rex, you stupid dog, heel!"

Sound traveled strangely on frigid night air. We couldn't count on how far away he was. And we had to get out of the park. With Aidan.

"Fen," I whispered. I risked touching his arm, carefully, fully aware he might turn on me just for the disturbance alone, but I was already on the balls of my feet, on the brink of taking flight, just in case.

But he didn't twitch. He was too busy staring down the dog. I watched in amazement as the animal ceased its yipping. Fen's eyes glowed a golden yellow, eerily similar to the auras of the Warriors. It made me think of butter and the gunky ooze that seeped from the Warriors' wounds as they healed deep injuries. Comforting and revolting, in a rather large hairy package.

Rex shivered on skinny legs, eyes twitching this way and that, as if unable to decide whether to fight or flee from this man who growled like a rabid pack animal. Rex bared his teeth, and Fenrir stepped forward. The dog proved the coward of the day, tucking its tail and turning to flee. Fenrir ripped out another growl, and the dog whined and disappeared into the darkness.

A shudder ran down Fenrir's body. He closed his lupine eyes, collecting himself. When he opened them they were nice and human again. Fen scowled at me. "Come, bring him and let us leave. There is far too much danger here."

I didn't hesitate. Didn't consider the decaying flesh or the possibility of piles of writhing maggots feasting within Aidan's corpse. I knelt and grabbed the open lapels of his jacket and lifted his torso up, just enough to allow me to slide a hand behind his back. The leather was soaked, soft and pulpy beneath my bare flesh. Rain and mud and blood had converged here in the darkness of Craven's most unpopular scenic outlook.

I slid my other hand beneath his knees and rose. Expecting the weight of a man, I tilted, way off balance, and stepped wide to find my new center of gravity. It was much the same as carrying a child. His body sagged against mine, the sweet reek of decaying flesh enveloping me. Holding my breath did nothing to help, as I could taste the sickly sweetness of him on my tongue. I shuddered.

And that was what brought on my first tear. I couldn't bear to touch this body. My skin crawled, reacting to the coldness of his skin. His hand lay on his chest, fingers still slightly curled, as if beckoning me to get closer. His body shimmered, refracted. Distorted by my unshed tears.

"Brynhildr."

I looked up, startled.

"We must go."

Beyond the bank, drawing closer, a man's voice shouted. "Rex, you dumb mutt, where did you go? Heel, boy, right now, goddamn it!" I'd been so wrapped up in self-pity and disgust, not a sound had pierced my sickly sweet haze.

"Ready?" Fenrir asked.

I nodded, unable to bear my burden with pride, refusing to bear it with sorrow. I figured I would treat it as a job. Forget who he was, forget the old sexy scent of him, the roughness of his unshaved beard against my skin. The taste of him. Forget Aidan.

As I concentrated on forgetting the boy who'd stolen my heart with one hand and stabbed it with his knife of betrayal with the other, Fen drew closer. Close enough that we breathed the same air.

Then, just as the shouting man broke through the bushes and stumbled down the little bank, we winked out of existence.

The last thing I heard was the man's words. "What the hell?"

Chapter 26

I blinked and we were back. The heat of the fire pierced my frozen skin, sending fiery needles of pain into me. I thought I'd been cold when we first arrived in Craven, but kneeling in cold wet sludge and holding a body the temperature of a Slushie made me feel as if I were standing inside an Arctic iceberg.

I wanted to drop my burden but my hands remained closed around him. Frozen, clutching skin and bones, unable to let go.

"Come, everyone. To Valhalla," said Fenrir.

I blinked again and the rest of the teams took shape before my eyes, like something out of Dante's inferno. The Valkyries all bore their burdens in a macabre picture of death. A death procession, only this time the dead would receive the breath of life again.

The teams walked out of the room, ghastly shadows dancing on the walls around us. How fitting the background of fire was to this caravan of cadavers.

My feet moved, and I was thankful. At this point I wasn't capable of much more than automatic response. I followed with Fen at my side, not even caring that I hadn't the faintest idea where Valhalla actually was.

***

The procession traveled in silence. The muted slap of leather soles on stone echoed along the passages, torches flickering as if sighing happily to see the Warriors pass.

We left Odin's castle and paced the bricked roadway, past the Warriors' Bathhouse.

The night sky flickered with strange green and blue lights, waving and undulating above us in an eerie hazy dance. Unbearably beautiful.

On a hill overlooking the roadway sat a Longhouse. The highest point of its roof reached half the height of Odin's grand palace, making it the second tallest structure in all of Asgard. Despite its monstrously large size, Valhalla's unremarkable architecture rendered it a plain and simple wooden hall, a practical one, a fitting home for the Warriors.

The only thing that had a claim to beauty here was the Glasir tree, standing just outside the hall. Monstrous branches spread out from a trunk so wide it would take ten men to measure around it fingertip to fingertip. The branches hung heavy with leaves of varying shades of gold, from plain and pale to a dark red-bronze. No matter the color, the leaves twinkled in the fading light.

The gigantic tree shone so bright that I squinted as we approached, like the rest of the Valkyries. We hobbled up the hill, blinded by the golden tree. The Ulfr, though, had no problems. They strode beside the Valkyries, gazing up at the tree, an expression of reverence on their faces.

All this I registered at the edge if my consciousness. My energy was focused on my burden. I tried to imagine how I would feel when Aidan rose again as a Warrior. The hurt of his betrayal still burned, a glowing coal reminding me of the white-hot pain I'd suffered.

But even that pain was buried deep down. Was it shock? I'd heard that people in shock were numb to sensation. The body's way of protecting the victim against further pain. I didn't want to be numb. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that none of this should ever have happened.

I should be back home, kissing Aidan in all his hot and sexy and living glory, in the kitchen between study sessions. I should be walking Brody and Simon to the park and swinging on one of the swings to pass the time, while they laughed and giggled and screeched their way through an hour of play.

But life didn't seem to like me much. Not enough anyway. Not enough to give me back the little bit of normalcy and happiness I'd once enjoyed. It had been so brief I'd begun to forget, as if it were a dream of cotton candy. The taste so sweet and delicious, the sensation so ethereal as it melted on my tongue. But my waking moments were erasing the memory. I could no longer see the bright pink color, nor could I smell the pungent richness of hot spun sugar. Or remember the taste. The delicate sweetness as it traced the tongue and melted like tiny butterfly kisses.

I shed another tear because I'd lost my sweet moments.

I barely registered the weight of my burden anymore. Until I passed the tree of gold. It shone and sparkled, shedding its light on everyone within its shadow, transforming every dark and haunted shadow, every pale and dead face into a shimmering vision.

Aidan's face was no longer an alabaster statue. Now it glowed as if the brightest light lay within him. From the moment I'd seen his lifeless face, at the side of that ignorant stream in the middle of Craven's cold darkness, I'd known he would return. He would walk and talk and laugh again. Perhaps the knowledge had stayed my tears, but now, just before I had to hand him over, before I had to leave him in Valhalla, I was filled with so many emotions. I was torn. Torn in a million directions.

Was this right? Shouldn't he have been allowed to live? Wasn't this barbaric, bringing the dead back to life? How would he feel about this intrusion into his choices? Should he have just been left to rot away in the loneliness of Craven? Left to nature to eat at his flesh and peel him away until all that remained was a skeleton. A mere shadow of his life and spirit.

No. I swept those thoughts from me as I concentrated on carrying the weight of his body into the hall. I gasped softly. Aidan's weight! Between arriving at Asgard and carrying Aidan up the hill to Valhalla, his mortal remains had gained considerable heft. So much that the muscles in my arms now strained and burned. Around me, the other Valkyries breathed heavily, all feeling and bearing this new, impossible weight.

I staggered through the wide open doors, looking for a place to lay down my burden. Along the middle of the Longhouse were tables and seats for dining. At one end, targets decorated the outer walls, presumably for archery practice.

On my right, a row of beds filled a small infirmary. I headed to the nearest bed. A man appeared beside me. A Warrior, perhaps. One who appeared eager to tend to the new Warriors. I bent to lay Aidan upon the clean sheets, sinking to my knees, every last sap of energy drained from my body. I was afraid I had no energy left to stand, so I just sat there, watching.

The Warrior barked orders and people shuffled around. His words sounded odd. Distorted, mangled words. As if I were underwater trying to make out his garbled voice. My cloak fluttered as a young girl swept past me. A bushy red tail peeked out from beneath her skirt. Another Huldra.

"Perhaps we should leave," Fen said. I'd forgotten all about him, but he'd remained at my side the entire time. The anxious way he looked at me spoke volumes about his concern. I nodded and rose, my legs a wobbly mess of nerves. We left the hall.

Outside, Sigrun waited beneath the golden tree.

I turned to thank Fen, but he walked on without a nod or a goodbye, leaving me alone with Sigrun. Fen. I wondered when I'd begun to think of him as Fen rather than Fenrir. When had I developed a relationship that allowed me to shorten his name as if we'd been friends for years?

I shook my head and smiled at Sigrun. But no smile greeted me today. And that made me sad. On top of the horrid things I'd seen and done today, Sigrun's smile would have been my safety net.

I tucked my arm into hers, seeking the warmth of her hand and the warmth from the golden shade of the tree.

"It is okay," she said. "The first time is always difficult. It will be easier the next time."

I glanced at her face. She had no idea what I'd just been through; she thought this was a standard, first-time Retrieval. I doubted that every Valkyrie got to bring the boy she loved to Valhalla.

"Is something wrong Bryn?"

"My Retrieval was someone I knew. Knew very well."

"Oh, Bryn." Sigrun patted my shoulder to comfort me. "I am sorry. That is not supposed to happen. I will speak to Fenrir about this. The Valkyries are not meant to bring back those they knew in their lifetimes. The emotional weight is far too taxing."

"No, Sigrun, please. Don't speak to Fen about it." I touched her arm, a tiny part of me afraid she'd go flying at his fast-disappearing back to give him a solid telling off. "I know why he gave me the Retrieval."

"But Bryn, he really should not have done that."

"It's okay. Aidan was the boy I once loved, and I think Fen knew about it. And I'm thankful he let me bring Aidan instead of some other Valkyrie. He also gave me time to know what had happened to him."

"I am so sorry," she said softly. "That must have been hard."

"It was . . . okay. It's not important anyway."

"What do you mean it is not important? He was important to you." Sigrun wore that righteous look on her face, the one that reminded me she would go to war and give up her life for me if required.

"Was," I said. "He was important to me. But not anymore. Not since he betrayed me. Since he lied and almost got me killed."

"I see. I am so sorry, Bryn." She didn't probe any further, though she barely knew any of the story. Her consideration made me want to burst into tears, but I swallowed hard. I decided to tell her soon, maybe in the next few days when we were alone. To break the silence, I asked, "Who did you bring back?"

"Brody Stevens."

I sighed, relieved. Sigrun was the perfect one to bring our little boy back. I should have paid closer attention when Fen read out the names of the Valkyries connected with the Craven kids. I was just so focused on seeing Ms. Custer. "That's good. Thank you."

"So you knew him, too?" Sigrun frowned. "I suppose you would have known many of the people we brought back from your old town."

I nodded. "I knew them all. It was only Aimee that I didn't get to know very well. Joshua was my best friend, and Brody was my little foster brother. And Aidan . . . well, I told you about him."

Sigrun stared at me, aghast. "I am so very sorry that you had to be present for that."

"It's really okay, Sigrun. I'm happy I knew. Happy they'll get a second chance too."