Читать книгу Foresworn - Rinda Elliott - Страница 12

Chapter Four

“Then it’s close to time, isn’t it?” Arun set his sandwich down, his face paling.

The Valkyrie nodded, worry bringing her red eyebrows closer together. “But all the warriors aren’t here.”

My heart thumped hard. She used the term warriors like it was a part of her everyday vocabulary. My sisters and I had always kind of giggled whenever we’d said it.

“Someone important must have arrived.” Arun looked at me. “This is Kat, by the way.”

“Oh yes,” the girl agreed. “She’s important. You two don’t even see it, do you?”

“See what?” I asked because she looked at me like she was seeing something the others couldn’t—something even I couldn’t see.

“Even you don’t know,” she murmured. “This changes everything.” She turned to Arun. “She’s the reason the music is louder. It’s starting.”

I shook my head. “No really, I’m not anyone important. I’m just here to keep my mother away from Arun. It’s a long, stupid story I won’t go into, but that’s it. She’s not even here, so I’m here for nothing.” And could I put the word here into my speech any more times? Here be a smart girl. Der.

“When did the music get louder?” Arun asked the girl, but he watched me like he could read my mind.

“Earlier. When you ran to the store and most of the people here watched the world around us spin around, then stop. Gillian threw up in front of Tyrone, and she’s really embarrassed about it, so if you see her, stay clear.” The Valkyrie shook her head. “She has the temper of a Viking returning from months at sea to find his woman has moved on.”

He looked back at me but didn’t say anything. That was when I’d stopped time. When the two of us had been in that truck stop. When he said he’d watched everything. My hands started to tremble, so I closed them into fists. Everyone here had watched it stop. Something big had changed. But why?

“Tell me something, Kat,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you believe in Valkyries when your magic is so potent, it’s singeing the hair on my arms?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe in them—just that it’s hard to believe you’re actually here.”

She pointed toward the open door; the rate of snow falling had obviously picked up. “So Ragnarok has begun, you have powerful magic, you know warriors are gathering who carry the old ones’ souls and yet you still question things.” She blew a red curl out of her eyes. “You must be carrying one of the dumber under-creatures.”

“Kara.” Arun’s tone was sharp as he stood up straight and frowned at her. “Kat is the one who stopped the world earlier. Maybe you don’t want to piss her off.”

I had to bite back a yeah. Didn’t want to sound like a petulant child or anything.

A shrewd expression narrowed her eyes and tightened her lips. “You stopped time.”

“You did that?” Tyrone asked before taking a bite of his sandwich. His bite was half a sandwich. “What else can you do?”

“Nothing.” I didn’t like the way the Valkyrie kept looking at me. “That’s it, and I don’t do it—my norn does. Oh and she tells the future.”

“Norn?” Kara shook her head. “I don’t remember them ever sending the world into a spin and freezing people. But looking at you tells me you are more than just a carrier for a norn.”

“What do you mean?” Her colorful clothes made me think of Coral. Then I felt a pang. And another. Realized quickly that I’d thought of my middle sister for a reason. I tuned the others out as this horrific feeling swamped me, made me squeeze my eyes shut, hold my breath.

Dread.

There was nothing quite like that feeling—like being suffocated under a heavy black tarp. Like being caught and knowing there was nothing you could do to stop whatever bad thing was going to happen.

Coral had it bad. Right at that moment.

“Sorry, you guys will have to give me a minute.” I dug out my phone and called Coral. It rang over and over, and with each sound, I grew that much closer to panic. I dialed again, watched as Tyrone finished his sandwich and then carried the small television to an extension cord.

“Hey, Arun,” he said. “I caught the news, and it seems there’s a storm coming in here on top of the snow. I don’t think the power is gonna last long, so you better catch up with what’s happening down south fast.”

“South as in Florida?” My hands shook as I punched in Coral’s number again and held the phone to my ear. “I just came here from there. Is that where you’re talking about? What’s going on in Florida?” I asked Tyrone, my voice going higher in panic as I listened to the ringing.

Arun’s expression went tight with concern as he squeezed past Tyrone and stopped in front of me. “You have a sister still there?”

I nodded, having to stretch my neck back to look up at him. The knot of fear and anxiety from Coral was spreading like wildfire in my chest. “She’s not answering her phone.” I hung up and tried again, my hands shaking so hard I had to click on the dial icon three times. While it rang, I stared up at Arun, hating the worry that had bled into his concerned face. “What is it?” I whispered.

“You don’t realize that Ragnarok is escalating at a crazy rate?”

“What are you talking about?” I clicked off the call, muttering under my breath. Coral’s fear had turned into outright terror. I gasped, grabbed at my chest, shut my eyes.

“Storms hit most of the lower East Coast. It’s bad, Kat. What part of Florida is your sister in?”

“The panhandle.”

The tightness around his mouth and eyes eased. “Then she should be okay. Let’s turn on the news to make sure.”

The storm systems that showed up the second we turned on the television made me cover my mouth with my hand. Everything in my body became tight and painful as I watched the frantic newswoman, who looked like she’d been crying and didn’t care who knew it. She talked of evacuations and how the storms sped up and so many hadn’t gotten out. She showed a picture of Cuba—or what was left of it.

“No one could have survived that.” Tyrone set down the second sandwich he’d been eating, his tanned skin going pale. “It looks like some of Florida is gone, too.”

I tried Coral again. Every nerve in my body fired as agitation fueled my anger when this call didn’t even go through. I buried my face in my hands, knocking my phone on my nose as I tried to reach out mentally, to feel that she was fine, but that dread and terror of hers had faded out. The reason that could have happened had me tearing up, shaking like crazy.

Arun came to me, put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed gently until I looked up at him.

“I’m sure she’s okay. You said she was looking for the one with Thor’s soul. If anyone could handle storms, it would be the god of thunder.”

“That’s not the point. I just need to know she’s okay.”

“You guys have a strong connection?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I’m freaking out. I can feel her fear and it’s awful. Or I could. I’m getting nothing now, and I can’t even call Raven because she lost her cell phone.” My shoulders slumped; then my own dread shot to the surface when the television and the lights suddenly went out.

He squeezed my arm. “Don’t worry. This happens a lot up here. We have backup generators that should kick on pretty soon.”

I hadn’t realized how much noise had been in the greenhouse until it all stopped. The watering hose, the television. Now the storm outside really made itself known with hard pattering snow and wind. A bee buzzed my head and I jerked back.

“Natural pollinators,” Arun said. “Kind of a necessary nuisance but we’ve found that—”

He broke off when screams sounded outside. Loud screams that were easily heard over the snow. Arun, Kara and Tyrone ran toward the sounds.

“Oh no!” Kara cried as she bolted out the door.

My nose twitched as a scent came in through the opened doors. Smoke. “Gods, I think there’s a fire.”

There were very few things I was truly scared of. I was overly cautious and didn’t trust easily, yeah, but outright fear? I’d dealt with a lot of things that would scare a normal person. I’d driven all the way here by myself and only got creeped out once when I’d stopped for a drink at some trashy convenience store. The guy in the restaurant parking lot this morning had made me kind of nervous, too, but not afraid. Sometimes I was scared that Coral would trust the wrong person. She’d come close to it in the past—closer than she even knew. Always willing to embrace Dru’s new boyfriends because she’d hoped for a father figure, she hadn’t realized one of them was a complete perv. I had. When I’d told Dru, she’d pulled her head out of her butt for once and done something about it. I always wondered how long that itching spell lasted.

But there was one thing that sent me into panic faster than anything. Fire. Years of nightmares of burning to death probably had a lot to do with that. And in the past few months, the dreams had been nonstop.

Tyrone and Arun had followed Kara from the greenhouse.

Toward the fire. I knew they needed help, so I squared my shoulders and started to follow. My coat caught on a long splinter from one of the planters. I reached to get it loose just as this horrific roar sounded overhead. It was like a whoosh of furious wind, and as I looked up at the plastic covering the greenhouse, I saw the first spark hit. Then another and another. They came like fiery drops of rain and before I could blink, the plastic shriveled, then burst into flames. The fire licked right and left, rolling down the walls until everything around me had caught. I stood in the center, surrounded by the cracking and popping, the hiss of steam as a stream of water arced into the opening of the roof. Snow pelted hard and fast into the opening.

“Kat!”

Arun’s yell snapped me out of shock. I hadn’t realized that thick black smoke had filled the room. Suddenly I was on my knees coughing, eyes watering.

“Come on,” he urged as he knelt beside me and grabbed my arm. “What are you waiting for?”

A burning piece of wood dropped onto the arm of my coat and instantly melted through the top layer of material. The grip of panic had me so tight in its hold; I didn’t think about running. I just started tugging off my coat.

Familiar pain spiked through my chest and I gasped, forgetting about my coat. I bent over, crying out. It was hot, searing and overwhelming to the point I saw nothing but stars.

“What? Shit, are you burned?” Arun tried to lift me, but I fought him off because I knew what was coming and didn’t want to be stuck up high in his arms.

“Gods!” I yelled as the wooden boxes next to me caught fire. The heat blazed, sweat poured down my body, dripping into my already irritated eyes. And as I blinked, the fire smeared fast to the left as everything around me moved into the spin. Red, green, black and what was left of the brown boxes swirled into the whirl of the world around us.

“Not again,” Arun groaned as he crouched over me. He flinched, then yelled, and I knew it was a cry of pain. I scrambled out from under him, trying hard to keep my balance as my equilibrium took a ride with the spinning world. A burning plant had fallen on him, the vines wrapping his body as if they were trying to stay alive by touching him. I pulled at one and my eyes flared wide as the burning parts of it fell to our feet and the rest sprang fully green and healthy again. But mostly I stared at Arun.

He was fully aware of what was going on around us, and he stared into the swirling mass in shock. He’d said he’d been aware when this had happened to me earlier, but I hadn’t truly believed him because nobody had ever come into my rune tempus with me. Ever. Not even my sisters.

When everything came to a halt, even I stood in awe as I took in the absolute wonder of seeing fire frozen in place. The crackling, the roaring, the popping...all of it had stopped. Even the wind outside had. It was as if someone had taken an image of the flames—like we were looking at a photograph. The glow of red, orange and white had paused in wild curved shapes that reached toward the sky. Smoke hung around us, like suspended granules of ash. I covered my mouth; sure it would be like inhaling rocks. The smoke around the plastic sheeting that had covered the greenhouse was thicker and nearly solid black, making it look like phantoms had been circling us.

Arun straightened, his mouth hanging open as he turned a slow circle. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I mean, how is this even possible? Fire is a chemical reaction—what sort of strength do you have to just stop it in place like this?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. Then my shoulders snapped straight. “We have time to save things! I don’t always have to write right away.” I turned frantically, trying to decide what to grab first.

Arun had flown into motion. He pulled out a small rolling flatbed, and together we piled as many plants as we could on it. He hefted bags of fertilizer, plant food. We focused on the plants that hadn’t gone into the long wooden planters at first; then Arun started plunging his hands into the dirt and pulling the plants out. I couldn’t quite manage that one—didn’t have his strength and was afraid I’d kill them all. So I started to run out the door and stopped, my chest heaving.

A wall of unmoving flames blocked our way out.

“What if we throw water on it?” Arun asked as he came up behind me.

“Water goes solid when I do this, see? At least at first. Whatever this is doesn’t hold them for long.” I picked up a handful of pebble-like objects from the sink by the door. “These were water drops.” As I held them, they started to melt.

“Water is strong,” Arun murmured. “Maybe your hold on it is only temporary.”

Fear bled into my veins as I returned my gaze to the statue-like flames above us. “Fire is just as strong.”

“Hold on—I have an idea.” Arun picked up the television and threw it at the wall of fire in front of the door. It sailed through—shattering the fire into pieces. Before they hit the ground, I noticed some had started to move. The snow put them out.

“We have to hurry.”

Arun picked up the chair and used the legs to swipe away the rest of the fire in the doorway. He gestured at me to run through as he grabbed the handle on the flatbed. He rolled it outside behind me.

“Look at this,” I hissed, pointing at the bits of fire we’d sent to the ground. They were still trying to spark to life, but the snow was putting them out fast. “We should try and get more plants out.”

Arun shook his head, then waved his hand around. “It’s too widespread. We can’t risk going inside them.”

My stomach dropped to my feet as I took in how many greenhouses had caught fire. I counted six that had already been engulfed, and sparks were arcing in the air over several more. “Gods. I’m so sorry.”

The sadness, the complete devastation in his expression ripped through me, and I put my hand on his arm, squeezed. Then my fingers started to tingle. I panicked a second before I realized I’d put my notebook with attached pen in the back pocket of my jeans when I’d climbed back in my Jeep after the truck stop. I pulled the paper out and held still as my hand went stiff. The message must have been important because as my pen drew the runes, my norn kept pressing harder and harder until the pen actually went through paper a couple of times.

“She’s agitated,” I said under my breath. “This message is really important, I think.”

Arun watched over my shoulder, then read the runes aloud when I was done.

“Dark blood without rival.”

“I have no idea what that means. First she says music on the lake, then dark blood without rival.” I chewed on my lip, staring at the runes, wishing I knew as much as Coral did about our mythology. I was so gonna start studying more. That is, if I got through this. The fire had me concerned—I could admit it.

“I think it means dark creatures. They’re supposed to fight in the battles, right?” Arun looked around as if he expected to see them coming at us through the fire. “I’ve read ancient texts that referred to underworld creatures as dark blood.”

“‘Without rival’ is the part that’s making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.”

“Me, too,” he murmured. “I think it’s a warning. The dark’s rival would be us—the kids carrying the gods’ souls. If we’re not there to fight...” He trailed off.

“Then someone is going to try and take us out.” This time I looked at the frozen flames and noticed that some had started to writhe despite the rune tempus. It was the creepiest thing I’d ever seen—those slow-moving tentacles of fire that fought so hard for freedom. “I know the plastic is flammable, but didn’t this fire seem to spread too fast and hard? And how with all the snow still falling?”

“Magic. Which means it was deliberately set.” Arun sucked in a breath. “There were a bunch of kids in the barn!” He bolted.

I followed, his panic bleeding back into me so hard it stole my breath.

“If someone set this fire to kill us, it would have started in the old barn we turned into a main warehouse and place for everyone to sleep. It’s where a lot of the kids hang out.”

As we turned the corner on the last greenhouse, Arun skidded to a stop and I ran into him. I had to grab his coat to keep from falling on the icy path. Several kids stood there, and all but one turned to look at us.

“Watch out,” Kara warned. “We were hosing everything down and when this happened, it all froze to sheets of ice on the ground.”

Arun made a sound that stabbed into my heart, and I followed his gaze to the cabin. Stiff flames spilled from the entire building—the walls, windows and roof. Only one flame off the porch had started that slow dance. Arun jumped into a sprint toward the cabin. Tyrone, Kara, me and the other girl with red hair followed Arun.

“Wait,” I yelled at his back. “I don’t know how long this is going to last. You could run in there and then the fire could start back up.”

“His mother is in there,” Tyrone said as he ran alongside me before he sped up and ran side by side with Arun. I picked up the pace, as well.

Arun slammed into the front door, splintering it into pieces. “Mom!” he yelled as he disappeared inside.

“Please,” I breathed softly to my norn. “Please keep it like this a little longer.”

I actually felt her surprise but didn’t have time to ask again as the rest of us hit the door. I didn’t hesitate, running inside with Kara right behind me. Flames had engulfed everything in their living room, reducing what looked like a red couch and hand-carved furniture to piles. The smoke was thick in here—not as thick as the stuff coming off that plastic covering the greenhouses—but it still felt like inhaling rocks as we pushed through into the kitchen.

The heat was like nothing I’d ever felt—as if I’d stepped inside a crematory oven—and the blast of it burned the exposed skin of my face.

Arun was carefully trying to lift his mother, a slim blonde who wasn’t much bigger than me.

“I can’t tell if she’s alive,” he said, his dark eyes glittering with tears that could have come from smoke or worry. “And I’m afraid to bend her like this.”

“Here, I’ll take her feet and you hold her shoulders.” Tyrone helped Arun lift his mother. “Kara, can you get the back door?”

She’d already anticipated the question and had the back door open fast.

I looked around, not sure what I should try to save. I turned to go back toward the hallway I’d spotted to at least grab clothes for them, but dizziness swamped me.

The girl who carried Gullveig’s soul suddenly reached out and hauled me right off my feet before tossing me over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Hey!” I yelled.

“No time left,” she shouted as the world jumped into the rune tempus spin.

I screamed as she bent and all the blood rushed to my head. She swiped a blanket off the floor and I had no idea how she was moving with everything spinning as it was. But she threw the blanket over me and ran. Then she screamed as she jumped through a window. I could see nothing, could only feel us sailing through the air and over the front porch. She landed with a grunt and a cry, dropping me.

“How did you even know that was...What if the window hadn’t been that dir...you’re crazy! The world was spinning!” I scrambled out of the blanket and realized the lunatic who’d picked me up had caught fire. This time, I jumped her. I had the blanket wrapped around her before anyone else could reach us. Then I rolled us together in the snow until she started struggling.

“I’m okay,” she yelled, her voice muffled by the blanket. “You can stop beating me now.”

I realized I’d been smacking at the blanket, and I stopped and yanked it off her. Holding my breath, I expected to see scorched skin and charred, broken hair and instead she just lay there, grinning at me. “How are you not burned?” I asked as I pulled the now sopping and freezing blanket all the way off her.

She shrugged as she sat up. “I have no idea. I’m Gillian. Nice to meet you. And I can sort of walk through fire. It’s why we think I have Gullveig’s soul.”

I nodded, excitement sending me to my feet. “I do know that story. The Vanir goddess who kept getting burned by the Aesir.”

Another girl with short black hair dropped to her knees beside Gillian. Tears and black marks streaked her high cheekbones. “Gullin and Freya were in that first greenhouse.” She sniffed, offered me a wobbly smile. “I’m Sky. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but nothing is nice right now.” She started sobbing. “Poor little guys.”

Gillian jumped up and ran down the hill. She didn’t stop—she ran right inside that first greenhouse.

“Is Alva okay?” Sky asked.

“Alva?” I looked around.

“Arun’s mom.” She wrapped her arms tight around her waist. “Did he get her out?”

“Yeah.” I walked around back to find Arun frantically hugging the woman, who sat bent over on a big tree stump. Harsh, racking coughs shook her thin frame.

He looked up, saw me, then bounded over the snowy hill between us to grab me and squeeze the breath out of me. “What you did,” he said in my hair. “What you did saved her. She’d passed out from the smoke, and she would be dead if it weren’t for you.” He hugged me tighter.

Gods, he was strong. I winced.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and letting me go. He stepped back, stared down at me. “Thank you so much, Kat.”

“It wasn’t me—it was my norn. But I’m glad.” That hug had been nice. I looked up to find him staring at me with a surprised look that held something else. Real interest. I took a deep breath to say something, anything, and a hard cough took me over.

Arun rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Got ‘em!”

Gillian’s yell made us all turn. I worked to get the harsh tickling out of my throat, watched her walk unscathed from a wall of fire. Her sweater was moving funny. She ran up the hill, laughing and gasping as she pulled a small creature from under her sweater. She handed one to Arun.

He laughed, held it up and kissed its grunting little face.

“It’s a pig,” I said stupidly, then cleared my throat as the coughing finally eased off. “They’re tiny pigs.”

“Babies,” Arun said. “They’ll get bigger. These are the best friends I wanted to introduce you to. This one is Gullin.” He held up the small black-and-white pig, and I had to actually curl my hands into fists to keep from grabbing it because it was freaking adorable. Gullin grunted and rooted around Arun’s neck like he was trying to wiggle as close as possible. Arun laughed and patted him. He looked at Gillian. “Freya’s okay?”

She pulled out another wiggling creature—also black and white—and grimaced. “I think she tried to bite me. Here.” She handed Freya to me.

It was my turn to grunt in surprise because she weighed more than I expected. “Are these teacup pigs?”

“Nah,” Arun answered. “They’ll grow to be a lot bigger than this. I’m not sure teacup pigs are even real. Think they all get big. But these cuties are potbelly pigs, so they probably won’t get as big as some of the monsters I’ve seen.” He held up the squirming Gullin. “You’d better not.” His smile faded as he looked out over the burning greenhouses.

The sound of sirens filled the air.

“Took them long enough,” Gillian said.

“Actually, it didn’t. Kat here stopped time, so it seems longer for us.”

“The greenhouses went up so fast,” Gillian said. She shivered, then began to lope down the hill again. “I’m going to save what I can out of the others.”

“Good idea. Wish I could walk through fire.” Arun turned and walked back to the stump where his mom sat wrapped in a blanket someone had found.