Sorcerer's Feud Read online

  “I’ll go home and grab some sleep,” JJ said. “I’ll be back by one o’clock to pick up the car.”

  Before Billy and Aaron left, Aaron showed us the photos. He loaded them on Tor’s laptop, a couple of clear shots of the giants, both with and without Joel, and then a couple that showed what lay behind the giants, the front of a roughly built house with an animal pen of some kind next to it. Joel stared at each one for several minutes. Now and then he shook his head in disbelief.

  “Not guys in costume?” Joel said. “Like in New Orleans for the Mardi Gras?”

  “Nope,” Aaron said. “I took these so we’d all know it was real.”

  Joel sighed in defeat. “I can tell you what the inside of the house was like. Right out of the Viking movies. Straw on the floor, and all these big guys sitting around on benches and drinking. Stank to high heaven. Pigs and dogs lying by the fire. Fucking big dogs, too, and hairy gray pigs. Jeez, I hope Tor’s gonna be all right.”

  “They’ll keep their word.” I put all the confidence I didn’t feel into that statement. “They’re etins, not thursar.”

  “Whatever,” Billy said. “They’ll be back tonight, and we’ll find out if they will or not.”

  Chapter 12

  In the dream, Tor stood in a room with green walls. Every time he tried to walk out the door, the cave bear blocked his way. Although I couldn’t hear him, I saw his mouth moving as he tried to reason with her. She lowered her head and refused to move. From the way he waved his hands, I could tell he was trying to cast galdrar. He looked first frightened, then angry when they had no effect. The bear tossed her head back and growled so loudly that I heard her, an angry droning whine.

  I woke up after too few hours of sleep. The whine turned out to be the gardener next door and his leaf blower. I felt muzzy, exhausted, and angry at Tor for being so damn stubborn. I reminded myself that his family had drilled him in his archaic view of manhood from the time he’d been a toddler. The reminder left the anger untouched. I also regretted telling him about my ability to evoke élan for myself. I was willing to bet that he never would have gone off to Jötunheim if he’d thought I’d fall ill without him. I was angry, yeah, but not irrational about it.

  After I fed myself with élan, I took a shower in the bathroom off the master bedroom to avoid waking Joel. I got dressed, then went into the kitchen and started coffee. I was just pouring myself a cup when a shower of gravel hit the kitchen window. I looked out and saw the young Frost Giant standing in the back yard. I opened the window and called down to him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Please come talk. I have news to tell you. Please!”

  His voice sounded so urgent that I hurried down the stairs and outside. As he walked up to meet me in the driveway, I felt an odd sensation just above my collar bone. The bindrune pendant Tor made was glowing and twitching against my skin. I laid a hand over it to calm it as the kid walked up.

  “Here I am,” I said. “What’s the news?”

  “Tonight they will try to cheat you. My father and his men, I mean. They will take the gold, but they cannot give you the vitki back. The bear came and got him. He is not with us any more.”

  “The bear—a huge bear with a long face?”

  “Yes. Never have I seen such a bear! She killed two of our dogs. She broke the door to the shed and let the vitki out. No one could stop her. She made him leave, so they left.”

  “She made him leave? How?”

  “She grabbed him by his blue coat with her mouth and dragged him. He did get free once, but she grabbed him again, and that time he went with her. We feared she would kill him, but no one could move until they were gone.”

  “Did the vitki cast a spell?”

  “Oh yes, and no one could move or speak until they were gone into the forest.” His eyes grew very wide. “He is a man of great power, my grandmother says.”

  The boy appeared so genuinely frightened that I was inclined to trust him, but as Tor was fond of saying, you never know with giants.

  “Why have you come to warn me?”

  He blushed scarlet. “I did not wish to see you cheated. I—I like you.”

  “I see. Well, I like you, too, and you’ve just been a very good friend to me. Would you like some elixir? I have some upstairs.”

  “I would very much, but I cannot go into the house. The runes, they keep me out.”

  “That’s okay. You wait here, and I’ll drop the bottles out of the window. You catch them so they don’t break.”

  He grinned so broadly, so innocently, that I figured he’d told me the truth with his warning. I hurried back upstairs. When I dropped the plastic bottles of cola down to him, one at a time, he caught them in his huge hands. I leaned out of the window.

  “Don’t open those right away! See how the elixir’s foaming? Wait till it stops.”

  He glanced at the bottles. “I see this, yes. I do as you say.”

  “One more thing. I have a message for your folk. I cannot give you the gold unless they give me the vitki. The gold is in a magic box with a powerful lock spell on it. I cannot open it. Only the vitki can open it.”

  He laughed aloud. “Very good,” he said. “This will teach them not to cheat.”

  The Frost Giant kid and his bottles of cola vanished in a shimmer of silver mist. I spent maybe thirty seconds feeling smug about inventing that magic lock spell until the meaning of his message sank in. Tor was off somewhere with the cave bear spirit. Would she let him find his way home? Another sodden thought: in Jötunheim Tor’s sorcery worked in a spectacular way. He could produce manifestations in their version of the physical world, not mere divinations or the etheric visions of his rituals. Why hadn’t he just come back once he was free? Maybe he didn’t want to.

  “Liv,” I said aloud, “I hope your plane’s on time.

  I fetched my laptop from my backpack, opened the journal files, and began compiling bits and pieces that seemed relevant, descriptions of Tor’s magics and some of my own, so that Liv would have more information. When I came to my notes about my trip into the Wilderkaiser snows, I got an insane idea. I tried to talk myself out of it. In that other world the cave bear had a physical presence. She’d already killed two dogs. She might kill me if I came after her prize. On the other hand, I terrified her. I also knew that Tor would do his best to protect me from her. I was mad at him, and maybe crazy as well, but I never doubted that he loved me.

  Once again, I’d fallen into the trap of thinking that someone else, Liv in this case, would solve my problem. But I could solve it myself. If I did, if I brought Tor home all by myself, like a big girl, I would have gained a victory for myself, not merely for him.

  How could I get there—Aaron’s photos. I booted up Tor’s laptop and brought up the pictures of the giants’ steading. I left a note for Joel on the refrigerator door, telling him to shout down the heater vent in the living room when he woke up, then gathered up both laptops and took them down to my studio. While I studied the photos, I printed out the compilation from my journal.

  The day before, I’d stretched and primed a new canvas for my senior project. I grabbed a stick of charcoal, stood in front of the easel, and thought about the summoning ritual. In my mind I could see faint images of the farmstead behind the figures, but I’d been concentrating so hard on Tor that I’d never focused on the details. Fortunately Aaron’s snaps, taken with his absolutely state of the art smartphone, had captured most of what I needed. I worked between memory and photos and laid in a rough drawing. When I finished, I stepped back and considered underpaintings to increase the feeling of depth.

  “Maya?” Distorted and hollow, Joel’s voice came down the heater vent. “There’s a Frost Giant in the driveway.”

  “Oh great! Help yourself to coffee. I’ll see what he wants.”

  I wiped my charcoal-dusty hands on my jeans and hurried to the side door. Instead of a ‘he’, the etinwife stood a few feet away and looked around, squinting against
the bright sunlight. I could see streaks of gray in her crown of blond braids. Her eyes were blue, very human eyes. I opened the door and called out a hello, but I stayed half inside the doorway, just in case. She, however, smiled in a perfectly friendly manner and handed me Joel’s suitcase.

  The pendant inside my shirt gave out a shriek of rage. She jumped back, and I squealed. We looked at each and laughed.

  “Sorry,” I said. “The vitki made me a ward. It takes itself seriously.”

  “That’s likely all to the good.” She still possessed the trace of a British accent from up Yorkshire way. “My grandson told me about the lock spell. I thought I’d have a try at dispelling it, if you agreed.”

  “I only wish you could.” I set the suitcase down inside before I continued. “I called it that so he’d understand, but it’s actually a combination lock on a safe, and only the vitki knows the combination. Do you remember what that is?”

  “Oh yes. Well, that is a difficulty, then! I can do naught about that.” She sighed and shook her head. “The men have made a right mess of this, haven’t they? I told them to let the damned thing go, the galdr gold, that is, but of course they wouldn’t listen.”

  “My vitki wouldn’t listen to me, either.”

  “I’m not surprised to hear that.”

  I hesitated, but she looked so genuinely weary of the feud, and it was so decent of her to bring Joel’s stuff back, that I decided I could trust her—at least a little.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I said.

  “Of course. Whether I’ll answer—” She smiled in sincere good humor.

  “Could any of your people use a telephone?”

  Her eyes widened, and she laughed, a startled bark.

  “Heavens, no!” she said. “I can’t imagine how I could even explain what one is. And their fingers wouldn’t fit in the little holes on the dial.”

  She must have gone off to Jötunheim before touch-tone phones were invented, much less cell phones. Still, their fingers would have trouble even with the push button kind of phone.

  “Then I wonder if someone else is looking for your gold,” I said. “They may have just wanted something else from my vitki and his cousin, but it might have been clues to the gold.”

  “A right mess, indeed!” She groaned aloud. “Well, dear, I hope your man can find his way home again. The others have gone off to look for him, you see, and I’m afraid of what they’ll do if they find him. That bear killed two of their best dogs.”

  She gave me a sad smile and disappeared.

  I shrieked louder than the ward in a mixture of anger, fear, and frustration. Cave bears and angry Frost Giants both! I nearly dropped the idea of going after him right then, but I refused to be a widow before I was married. Footsteps trotted down the stairs behind me. I turned around to see Joel, coffee mug in hand, standing about halfway down.

  “Are you okay?” he said. “I heard you yell.”

  “Yes, I am.” I stepped back inside and closed the door. “She was just trying to help.”

  “She was the most human of the lot, yeah. She stopped them from kicking me around.” He gulped down a mouthful of coffee. “I hope to god that Tor’s going to be okay. Everyone was talking about his sister. Do you think she can do something?”

  “Probably. Help yourself to food if you’re hungry. I’ve got work to do down here. Oh, and the etinwife brought your stuff back.”

  He took the suitcase and went back upstairs. For the rest of the morning, I painted like a mad fiend. I’d never slapped paint on canvas so fast before, and I probably won’t ever do it again, but I felt the urgency like a fire in my hands. The landscape, the dark forest behind the rough wood house, the muddy yard in the foreground—the forms built up fast, still blocky and unrefined by the time JJ arrived at one o’clock. We went into the library room downstairs while I gave him the car keys and the printout for Liv.

  “I might not be here when you get back,” I said.

  “You’re not going after him, are you?”

  “Of course I am, if I can get there. Tell Liv where I’m gone, okay?”

  He looked at me narrow-eyed, started to speak, then just shook his head.

  “He’s really in trouble.” I decided to give him only the essence of the story. “He’s escaped from the giants, and they’re after him.”

  “Jesus! Do you know how to shoot? Tor’s got a couple of hunting rifles around here somewhere.”

  “I’ve never touched a gun in my life. I’d probably shoot my own foot off. Besides, I couldn’t stand to—” I caught myself.

  “Couldn’t stand to do what? Kill someone else?”

  Ice. Isa. I know what it means, to feel like you’ve turned to ice. JJ was watching me with a twisted little smile, sad-eyed, sympathetic.

  “I don’t know how you did it,” JJ said. “But from what I know of Nils, good for you!”

  “How did you—” Fear froze in my throat.

  “Oh come on, you’re not white, either. You know what it’s like, always watching for clues, always on your guard around them, checking out the faces, the postures, the tone of voice. It gets to be a habit. Every time someone mentions Nils, you flinch, you look away, you bite your lower lip. I don’t suppose the others noticed. Aaron’s got his problems, and Billy, he doesn’t need to notice.”

  “Yeah.” I forced it out. “Okay.”

  “And then you confessed. Some joke, huh? I saw Tor recoil like you’d slugged him. I knew then.”

  “No one ever said you were stupid.”

  JJ grinned at me. “But about those guns.” He turned away and began gazing around the library room. “I think they’re in a closet down here.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Okay, you can’t and won’t use one, but Tor will if you find him. He’s a good shot. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he could kill someone without thinking twice.”

  “That’s why I don’t want to take him a gun. Look, if he shoots a couple of giants, do you think the rest of them will ever leave us alone? Blood feuds used to be considered entertainment, y’know.”

  JJ whistled under his breath. “Good point. Okay. No gun.”

  “Besides, if I can find him, he can bring us right home. I mean, like in two minutes.”

  “If he’s escaped, why isn’t he back already? Are you sure he’s not some place where you can’t get him out?”

  “Not sure, no, but I’m betting I know what’s stopping him. There’s no time to explain. It’s all in that printout. You can read it while you’re waiting for Liv’s plane.”

  “I will, okay, but Maya, for god’s sake, Tor wouldn’t want you to run this kind of risk.”

  “Then the bastard should have just given them what they wanted when he had the chance. You better leave. I’ve got to finish painting the gate.”

  “The—oh. That kind of gate.”

  “Yeah. Go!”

  He went.

  I returned to fiend mode and finished what I could do on the painting. I felt the power gathering, trembling behind some kind of barrier, as if it wanted to break through but could find no breach. From my other experiences with painted gates, I figured it lacked important details. With the charcoal I drew the Mannaz rune, to symbolize Midgard, and Othala on the sky to hold the power in check. I knelt by the heater vent and yelled for Joel. He came trotting down the stairs and joined me in the studio. He’d shaved, showered, and changed his clothes. Cleaned up, he looked so much like Tor that it wrung my heart.

  “Tell me what’s wrong with this painting,” I said. “It has to be accurate.”

  “More magic?”

  “You bet. I need details.”

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath as if he needed to steady his nerves. “Over the front door, a pair of antlers, the biggest pair of antlers I’ve ever seen. Irish elk, probably.”

  I slapped those on with a fine brush and felt the painting strain at its barrier. Joel kept talking, I kept painting. At about two o’clock he ran out of addi
tions. Didn’t matter. I could feel the image struggling to be free.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ve got to get some stuff together before I go through. Let’s go back upstairs.”

  “Go? What are you—oh never mind! I’ll hold the fort here until JJ gets back with Cousin Liv.”

  In a closet I found Tor’s backpack, larger than mine, and filled it. I scavenged through the kitchen cupboards and packed a lot of food. I added some miscellaneous stuff I figured I might need, like matches. I saved room, though, for the crucial equipment, that is, my art supplies—the box of Conté and pastels, my biggest sketchbook, a couple of X-acto knives in case I had to carve runes or cut Tor free of leather bindings. I rolled up a couple of fleece blankets and tied them on the outside. I dressed in sweatpants over my jeans and my beaten-up but warm winter parka over a couple of shirts. The backpack went on top, heavy but bearable.

  I said goodbye to Joel, who’d gone back to looking stunned in an armchair. Although I considered waiting for Liv’s arrival, every minute I spent in safety might mean more danger for Tor. I went downstairs before my nerve failed and hurried into my studio. The canvas on the easel swelled to greet me, then subsided behind its chain of runes. I grabbed a paint rag from the work table and wiped Mannaz and Othala away.

  Cold wind laced with élan swept over me. The warding pendant throbbed against my skin. I walked forward, stepped through, then turned to look back at an open landscape of fields and pasture. My studio room had dwindled to a tiny image caught in the bare branches of a tree. Overhead the sky hung slate-gray and swirling. I turned to see the giants’ ramshackle steading about thirty yards away. The wooden house, vaguely A-frame, sat in a big yard behind a fence made of pieces of tree trunk and dead branches, randomly smeared with mud. I heard pigs squealing and smelled a thick ugly stench. In the animal pen off to the left a tall woman wearing mostly rags was emptying buckets into a trough. She never looked my way.

  The bear had dragged Tor into the forest, which loomed a good distance behind the house. I headed for the trees, but I made a wide circle around the steading. As I passed it, a dog barked for a moment, then fell silent. Although I could see windows on the sagging walls of the rough wooden house, shutters covered them. Nothing moved among the garbage heaps and dunghills standing around in back near the cow barn, either. Once I got a good distance from the steading, the stench eased up, and I could smell snow coming on the wind.