Giants of the Frost (32 page)

I walked, dazed, back to Kirkja, going over the possibilities in my mind. He was royalty, he was a fugitive from the law, he was escaping from a cult, he was a figment of my imagination. I wondered if my feelings for him would change once he had revealed his great secret. The old me, the love-shy London girl who had arrived at Othinsey a few short months ago, would have a cynical quip waiting on her lips for fools like me.
You don't even know him. He could be a murderer. You're thinking with the brain
between your legs
.

She would be profoundly wrong. The love I felt was deeper than the Atlantic, and more powerful than its fiercest currents. The sight of the station up ahead between the trees confounded me for a moment. My mind had to force the connection between my night in the forest with Vidar and the daytime mundanity of my work. I shook my head to clear it, felt in my pocket for my key.

Just as I broke from the trees, Magnus stepped out of his cabin and spotted me.

"Victoria?"

"Good morning, Magnus," I said, and I know that I looked guilty. I know that my eyes didn't meet his, that I kept my head too low, that my voice gave away my desire to pass unnoticed. None of these things were lost on him.

"What are you doing in the forest this early?" he asked.

"I've been out for a walk."

"It's barely dawn."

"You're up," I said, as though that explained everything. If he was out of his cabin, then why shouldn't I be?

"I'm getting tea for Maryanne. She's had another terrible night." He nodded slowly. "And I'm starting to think I know what caused it."

If I'd slept at all, I might have retained enough wits to grasp what he was implying and neutralize his impression immediately, but I shook my head, and in a too-innocent tone said, "What do you mean?" His eyes flared with suspicion. "In my office. Thirty minutes," he said, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"What?"

"You heard." He was stalking away from me in the grey half-light. I watched him go, realized that he meant he had identified me as the nighttime menace about whom Maryanne had been complaining, and called out, "No, Magnus, it's not me." He didn't hear me. "Shit," I said, unlocking my cabin. I had really been hoping for a nap before work. I was absolutely knackered. I gazed at my bed longingly with my gritty eyes, as I changed and tried to tidy my hair. Sleep, sleep, I needed sleep. I needed Vidar. I needed to curl up in his arms in front of the warm fire. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation with Magnus.

I hurried over to the station. Magnus sat in his office chair, fingers steepled together like he was some international criminal mastermind in a James Bond movie. I don't know whether the pose was genuine or an affectation. I sat down, tense and cautious.

"I know it's early, but I thought I'd save you the embarrassment of seven other people witnessing this. And besides, you were already up."

"I was hoping to get some sleep before work," I said.

"So you were up all night?"

"You know that I sleep poorly. I went for a walk early. Magnus, I hope you're not implying that I'm deliberately trying to upset Maryanne because—"

"I'm not implying anything. I
know
what's going on. It's quite clear. You're trying to scare her with strange noises in the night. You know she's gullible."

I shook my head vigorously through this whole tirade. "No, no! Magnus, I swear to you, I've not done anything to Maryanne. I've not been making strange noises near your cabin, I've no reason to do anything like that."

"No? Not jealousy?"

I was stricken into complete silence for four heartbeats. "Jealousy?" I gasped at last. "Magnus, you're nearly twice my age."

This was entirely the wrong thing to say. His face flushed deep red.

"Victoria, the facts before me are these." He struck them off violently on his fingers. "Maryanne moved into my cabin; she started to hear frightening noises in the forest directly afterward; she mentioned having heard your voice once; I caught you this morning in the forest near my cabin before dawn. I may be an
old man
, but I am not a stupid one."

I was too tired to gather energy for a fight, even in the face of his infuriating allegations. I shook my head again. "No. Not me. I sometimes hear noises in the forest too. You're neither an old man nor a stupid one, Magnus. I don't mistake you for either. I'm tired. I just want to go to bed." His lips twitched into a cruel smirk. "It's nearly time to start work."

"I've got four hours—"

"I'd like you at work at seven. I have a lot for you to do today. It's nearly six, so you'd better have some breakfast." He shot out of his chair. "I'll speak with Maryanne. I expect you to be here waiting on my return."

So he was going to make me do penance. I returned to my cabin for a quick shower and a cup of coffee to wake me up.

A helpful Gunnar brought me breakfast in the office before leaving me alone with snake-eyed Magnus. He was smart enough not to give me any tasks that involved complicated thought processes. Instead, I spent the day rewriting file labels in the storeroom, yawning until I longed for bed. The hours crawled, time lost its shape, and my head throbbed. By afternoon tea, I could see the prize: quitting time, bed for a few hours, then back to see Vidar.

But Magnus still had another surprise up his sleeve.

"Victoria," he called archly, as I was heading to the rec hall for more coffee.

"Magnus?" I replied, turning and forcing a civil expression.

"Gordon is ill," he said. "He was scheduled on the night shift." My mind tried to grasp the personal ramifications. "And… ?"

"I'd like you to do it instead."

"But I've just worked all day."

"Go to your cabin now, have a few hours of sleep," he said. "I just want to make sure that you're not free to go wandering in the forest tonight."

"I keep telling you, Magnus—"

"If you're so adamant it's not you making the noises, then you should be happy for a chance to clear your name."

I fought to comprehend. No sleep. Work all day. And now the night shift? What about Vidar? What about his secret? What about the hot kisses he promised me?

"Victoria?"

"I simply can't, I—"

"Refusing isn't an option," he said, leaning close and dropping his voice to a harsh whisper.

"But Carsten always schedules at least—"

"Carsten is not the station commander. You are not the station commander. I am." I held up my hands and took a step back. "Fine. Send Gunnar over to wake me at seven." A combination of caffeine and frustration made sleeping difficult, and I only managed half an hour before my wake-up call.

This meant that as I sat down at the desk in the control room and logged on for my evening shift, I had slept only five hours in the last forty-eight.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and braced myself for another appearance by Magnus. It was Gunnar.

"I brought you some dinner," he said.

"Is it dinnertime? I've lost track."

He put a bowl of undercooked ravioli in front of me. "This is illegal, you know. He can't make you work this many hours in a row."

I waved his comment away. "It's probably a good thing. At least he'll know that it's not me frightening Maryanne."

"He's an idiot," Gunnar said, settling on the couch. "Maryanne's obsessed with a stick-man she says she's seen. That's obviously not you." His eyes twinkled. "Or is it? Should I be checking your cabin for a costume?"

"I've dreamed about the stick-man too," I said. "Remember?"

"Have you told Maryanne that? You're both from England, so maybe it was something you saw on TV as kids."

"I can't talk to Maryanne," I replied. "This ravioli tastes like cardboard."

"Mmm, cardboard," he said, rubbing his stomach.

"I hadn't thought of that, by the way. That it was something we both saw as kids. Though Maryanne's older than I." A flutter of relief, a flutter of disappointment; too tired to process it. He shrugged. "Reruns. Can't escape them."

"So, why are you here?"

"To bring you your dinner. And I thought I'd stay a while. Keep you company."

"That's very sweet," I said. But he wasn't Vidar, and I glanced out the big glass windows at the forest below. Was he waiting for me? Did he think I'd changed my mind?

Gunnar chatted to me while I worked, made me coffee, entered some data for me. I was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate so, around 1:00 a.m., I sent him off to bed. He left, I sensed, reluctantly. I dimmed the lights and stepped outside onto the observation deck. Visibility good, light drizzle, wind from the northwest, heart sick with longing. It was cold, like summer had changed its mind about coming. I shivered and backed into the heated control room, sliding the door shut. I had half an hour before my next entry was due, and Magnus had left more files and blank labels for me. I turned up the lights and sat on the sofa to start work.

My head was heavy. I rested it just for a moment on the back of the sofa.

Sleep rushed upon me, and I startled back toward wakefulness.

But I couldn't wake up and I couldn't move. My body was unconscious around my panicked brain. I tried to sit up, but my limbs were encased in concrete.

Not this again
. I remembered taking the ward off that morning to shower, but being so tired I forgot to put it back on. I forced my eyes, but the lids wouldn't budge. And yet, with a peculiar tickling sensation on my forehead, I could perceive the control room, albeit in nightmarish colors and shadows: blues and purples and greys. And a strange emptiness lay over it all, as though nobody had set foot there for centuries. It was at once familiar and unfamiliar, and it unsettled me. I wanted to shake off this sleep paralysis and see everything as it really was: bright lights and coffee cup rings and other mundane things. I wondered whether every ordinary setting had an empty, surreal form within it, ready to reveal itself in nightmares.

I struggled against the inertia to no avail. My best hope was that the thirty-minute timer would go off before the hag came.

Then I heard the door slide open.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" I shouted in my head. My new sight ranged out and found her, sidling toward me, her hands folded behind her back like a schoolgirl hiding something. "Wake up, wake up."

"You must stay away from him!" she hissed, dropping to all fours and crawling the remaining distance to the sofa. Her lips didn't move when she spoke, the words appeared in my head like dull echoes. In my mind's eye I could see the ward on the bathroom sink. I longed for it. "I don't know what you mean."

She pulled herself up, using my knees, and leaned forward. Her breath was rancid, her eyes were black and her fingers dug into my flesh. "He is the son of a mighty man. A wise man." She averted her eyes, and her face took on a sad expression. "A man surely wise enough to call me home one day."

"Get off me! Wake up, Vicky, for God's sake, wake up!"

The hag's face swooped up to mine, all bruised colors and purple shadows. "Stay away from him," she repeated. Then her crooked hands grabbed my hair and yanked my head forward so that my mouth was pressed against hers. I tried to breathe, but she was sucking the air out of my lungs. My chest ached, and I was momentarily convinced that this was real, that my poor limp body would be found here in the control room in the morning and nobody would know what had happened.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

I sat up and gasped. The control room, the bright messy version, was back. I could move and nobody was there but me.

"Thank you, Josef," I said, head in hands, leaning on my knees. It took me a full minute before I realized my skin hurt where the hag had clawed me. I stared down at my jeans, wondering if I'd find two bruises beneath the denim. I decided not to look. Until Vidar had spoken, everything was on hold. I guess I already knew the mysteries would all link together, somehow.

I managed to stay awake until four. I changed shift with Alex and headed outside. It was raining, I had my head down, and ran straight into Gunnar.

"You're up early," I said.

"I came to find you. I need to talk to you about something."

I glanced over my shoulder at the growing light in the east. Was Vidar waiting for me? Perhaps, if I wandered into the forest, I would find him, curled up asleep under the animal-skin tent. Perhaps I could curl up next to him, feel his warm, strong arms around me…

"Vicky?"

"Can it wait, Gunnar?" I asked, trying to sound patient and warm. And failing.

"I know you're tired," he said, "but I only need five minutes." I simply couldn't respond. So many things were prioritized above Gunnar—Vidar, food, sleep—but he was always so good with me, so kind and thoughtful.

"Vicky? We're getting wet."

"Of course," I said.

"Come back to my cabin," he said, smiling his relief.

We hurried inside. Gunnar indicated I should sit on the sofa while he made me a hot cup of tea.

"Magnus shouldn't be allowed to get away with scheduling you day-night," he called from the kitchen.

"I'll get over it."

"Will you? He's got you scheduled on again tonight."

"Again?" I nearly jumped out of the sofa. If I was supposed to be working again tonight, then I had to see Vidar immediately. I told myself to sit still and be patient with Gunnar. Vidar would still be there in an hour. There was no rule about me only meeting him in the dark.

"I think so. You'd better check." He put a steaming mug in front of me and sat opposite.

"So what do you need to talk to me about?"

"I got an e-mail this morning from the New Zealand Meteorological Service."

"New Zealand?"

"I applied for a job there. Vicky, I've only got a month left on Kirkja." I was bewildered. Gunnar was leaving? "Have you? Why didn't you tell me before now?" He shrugged. "It seemed a long time off when you first arrived, and since we've become closer I didn't want to mention it in case you thought…" He trailed off, but I filled in the blanks. Gunnar didn't want me to think he was using his imminent departure as a way of pressuring me into romance. "You know I like you, Vicky. We make jokes about it, but you're more than just my mate."