Chapter Fifteen
In which the cottage is seized by despair and hope…
Birds chirped nearby. Soryn was bathed in warmth. This confused him since he last remembered being in a dank, dark burrow under the earth. He listened—the reality of what happened not yet registering in his mind. A crackling sound—a fire— and the scrape of something metal struggling against another hard surface caught his attention. A soft sleeping pallet lay underneath him. Opening his eyes, he was astonished to find he was back in the cottage. Looking up, he saw Fanndis standing over the hearth stirring a small cauldron of soup.
“I see you’re awake.” Her voice was low, angry.
“Fanndis?” Soryn mumbled, still not understanding how he had gotten back there.
When he rose up, a sharp, stabbing pain rippled throughout his head and neck.
“Don’t move. You’ve hurt your head. I expect it’s that idiot Fenris that’s to blame for that—though you’re certainly to blame, too!” Her mood was clearly volatile.
Suddenly, the memories of the previous night rushed back to Soryn and he shot up, ignoring the blasting pain throughout his body and cried, “Arna!”
“Calm down. She’s here with us. Though, you’ll not be talking with her today.” A despairing look settled upon the old woman’s face and she appeared to have aged in the night.
Soryn felt an icy weight drop in his stomach. “What’s happened, Fanndis?”
“See for yourself.” She jerked her head towards the cottage’s front door.
Soryn followed her gaze and nearly jumped out of his skin. A man sat in a chair, wrapped in a patchwork blanket. At first, Soryn thought it was Fenris, but then he saw the mole beneath the left eye: Olan. He was shivering and had streams of tears flowing down his cheeks.
“Olan?” Soryn whispered.
Olan stared off into empty air and did not appear to have heard Soryn’s questioning utterance. Fanndis exhaled.
“In all my years…I would never have expected something like this. Never!” Fanndis sighed, clanking the ladle onto the soup catcher on the hearth.
She stomped off into the back room. Her heavy footfalls made Soryn shudder. He stared at Olan. His brother sat there, eyes wide and gazing into space as if his entire world had been ripped from him. When Soryn thought about it honestly, he supposed it had—if Olan truly had been the white wolf they had all come to know. Ulf had a mate, a family of cubs; another life. Soryn and Arna had destroyed that. It had been unintentional, of course, but they had destroyed it, nonetheless. Lord Maslyn grimaced at the bile that rose in his throat. He raced to the window, opened the shutters and retched into the snow.
Soryn looked over towards Arna’s room, but the shutters were closed. The sound of harnesses caught his attention and he looked up to see Stigg bringing Ivan around to the barn. When Stigg saw Soryn, he just looked away—as though it were too painful to look upon the boy. Soryn retched again. After he pulled his head back into the room, he closed the shutters. Fanndis beckoned him into the kitchen. Olan remained in his chair, eyes still staring and empty. In the kitchen, Fanndis sat at the table and gestured for Lord Maslyn to take a seat.
“We need to have a conversation, Soryn,” Fanndis quipped.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, trying to hold himself together.
“Soryn, what you and Arna did was reckless to say the least—but let me finish. I understand that what you did was done out of love and the desire to return your brother back to his original form. However, once I talked with Ulla in the kitchen, I knew he was Fenris. I knew, because Olan told me. Ulf had come back with us to the cottage and Ulf told me never to trust Ulla. He explained that the pig was really Fenris and the white wolf, himself, was Olan. Because I have known Ulf for many years and I trust him, I believed him at once. I had not kept a guard on my mind and Ulla found out I knew the truth. Because of that, I had to run to Valkyrie to see what could be done to keep you all safe.
“Unfortunately, before I could get there, I had a terrible feeling of foreboding. I turned around and came home. When I returned, I could see that you and Arna had run off, taking matters into your own hands. I remembered a binding spell Valkyrie had told me about long ago that could make Ulla dormant until we knew what to do with him, but I needed his physical presence in order to perform it. By the time I had located you in the burrow, it was too late. If I had arrived minutes later, Arna might have been…” she stopped herself and looked towards the kitchen fire with tears in her eyes.
“Might have been…what?” Soryn asked in a dead, monotone voice.
“Fenris tried to rape her, Soryn. I trust you understand what that means.” A small tear tumbled down Fanndis’ aged cheek.
“Oh, God,” Soryn burst into tears.
“He didn’t succeed. When I got there, he had torn off most of her clothing but, thankfully, Stigg is a lot stronger than him. We were able to get him away from her and take her out of there before he could do her any harm.” More tears rolled down Fanndis’ face.
“But why would Fenris do that!?” Soryn asked, tears stinging his eyes.
“I suspect that waking up as a man was quite a confusing experience. His body and hormones are entirely new. As well, your brother has always had a knack for making impulsive, bad decisions.”
“What have I done?” Soryn asked, broken and defeated under the weight of all that had transpired.
“Soryn, there’s more. Arna is in a coma. We can’t wake her up and I’ve tried everything. Reversal magic is very powerful and has dark consequences. She had no idea of this, I understand, but she was not ready for a spell of that magnitude. It is a wonder she’s alive at all. If it were just yresses, she would be fine in a few weeks, but this drained every last drop of energy from her body and I have no idea when she’ll wake up.” Fanndis wiped her forehead and sat with her hands clasped as though she were praying.
When Soryn heard her muttered words, he prayed, too, for forgiveness and for help for Arna. He didn’t know to whom he was praying, but he did it anyway—hoping some gracious deity would have pity on such a miserable creature as him. He wished they had never tried to reverse the original spell…he wished he could take it back.
“What about Olan?” he mumbled.
“He is still in shock. He hasn’t said a word since it happened. Fenris broke free from Stigg and ran off into the woods. Stigg wasn’t able to find him,” Fanndis remarked.
Soryn sat and cried, his head in his hands.
Fanndis got up and left him there at the table. When she walked through the cottage’s main room to go check on Arna, Olan was in the exact same position—eyes open, body still. His face looked vacant, his mouth slightly ajar. He had the blanket clutched about him like a life line and she imagined it was his only tangible connection to reality. Fanndis opened the door to the cottage bedroom and sighed. Arna rested there, eyes closed. Anyone would have thought she was sleeping. Not for the first time, Fanndis wondered if Arna had traded spirits with an animal, that it might be her punishment for reversing an animal transference spell. That would be the best case scenario. If Arna was inside an animal body somewhere in the woods, she might be able to make her way back to the cottage somehow.
The old woman prayed that would be the case. If Arna was in fact in some magical coma and not in an animal body…Fanndis would cross that bridge once they had given it some more time and thought. She sat on the bed and placed her hand on the girl’s chest, giving her Seidh power one more try to see if it would wake the girl up. It did not. Feeling defeated, she called out to Valkyrie with her mental powers.
Fanndis? Valkyrie was startled to hear from her apprentice after the turmoil of the night.
Valkyrie, something terrible has happened.
I’m on my way, Valkyrie replied, not waiting for Fanndis to say more.
Fanndis was thankful she was not going to have to explain everything just yet. It gave her more time to regroup and to make sense of it herself. She was so angry a
t Arna and Soryn for not waiting, but at the same time, she understood why they didn’t. It was out of love and the desire to make right something that had gone wrong long ago. She knew they were just trying to do what they thought was right. It pained her that it had backfired so badly for them both. Though Soryn seemed physically unaffected, she knew that his heart was devastated by the results of Arna’s spell.
Stigg opened the door to the bedroom. His stern face was stained from weeping. He came over to the bed and knelt down next to it. Taking Arna’s near lifeless hand into both of his, he cradled it to his face and let his tears fall. Over the last few months, he had grown to love her far more than he imagined he could. Stigg was so furious with Soryn that he could not even look at the boy. Gazing at Arna’s lovely, still face he kissed her hand. He felt ashamed that he had not been there to protect her. Then and there he vowed that if she ever regained consciousness, he would ask her to marry him when she was old enough. He knew she loved Soryn, but perhaps that would change if only she would wake up…Stigg wanted to spend his life protecting her.
In the main room, Soryn sat next to Olan in complete silence. He had nothing he could say to his brother that could fix what had happened. Then, he had a spark of an idea. He knew that he was already deep into the mire that he had created, but he had an inkling of an idea how to fix it. Getting up, Lord Maslyn clothed himself for riding. The wind was chill, but not frozen, when he stepped outside. The snow had begun to melt around the back yard and the rain had stopped. In the barn, his horse whinnied nervously—knowing something was amiss in the house.
What’s happened, sire? Sable asked.
“Terrible things, Sable. We must go look for a friend,” Soryn replied.
After saddling the horse and mounting up, he led the great animal off into the woods in the direction of the greenhouse. He knew Ulf’s den had been around there somewhere, because that was where Arna had gotten hurt back in the winter when Ulf had come to warn everyone. The woods were dark, the moons low on the horizon. It was nearly dawn when he reached the greenhouse. Continuing past it, he searched around the granite outcroppings for caverns. When he did not see any obvious openings, he decided to try asking where the wolf den was.
“If you can hear me, Ulf’s mate, I have grave news for you! Please come out and talk to me!” Soryn truly hoped Olan’s mate would speak with him.
What is it, human? A growling voice entered his mind.
“Ulf is my brother Olan—my human brother,” Soryn said, feeling the truth would be the best approach for a dangerous animal.
I know this. What does that matter? He is a wolf—my mate, she replied.
“That’s just it…my friend Arna and I performed some magic to return Olan to his human form. We thought that Olan was the black pig and we had no idea that Olan was actually Ulf. I am so sorry.” Soryn knew he was jumbling his words, but he stopped to give her time to process this tale.
Show me, Ulf’s mate commanded.
Soryn peered around, hoping the wolf would not startle him, but when she came out from the top of the rock face, he was astonished by her beauty. She was smaller than Ulf had been, but had ebony black fur that ruffled in the summer wind. She dashed from rock to rock until she was on level ground with Soryn and his horse.
Are they at the cottage? she asked.
“Yes.”
I care not if he is a man. I know we cannot be as we were if he is in that form, but he is still the father of my pups and the spirit that I love, she said, more to herself than to Soryn.
He hoped what she said would somehow make everything okay once she saw Olan. He wished that the power of her love for Ulf could change Olan back—now that Soryn saw the terrible thing he and Arna had done. She led the way back to the cottage, running through the wind like a shadow to get there. He found that Sable had trouble keeping up with her. When he saw the light from the cottage shutters through the trees, Soryn dismounted and led his horse the rest of the way through the melting snow to the barn.
Olan’s mate went on into the house and Soryn let her go. When he entered some minutes later, what he saw touched him to the core. Olan’s mate sat before the human body of his brother, brushing her expansive cheek against his smaller human one. Soryn saw the tears rolling down Olan’s face and that his expression had changed to one of utter grief. Olan broke down and sobbed. His cries of sadness and frustration brought Fanndis and Stigg into the room to see what was going on.
Fanndis put a hand to her mouth, stifling a small gasp. She realized it was just Nora, Ulf’s mate, and relaxed. Olan brought his arms around Nora’s body and cried harder. Soryn guessed they were talking to one another mentally. He hoped they were still able to communicate. Everyone felt they should leave the room to give them privacy. No one could imagine the suffering they were facing. Fanndis wished it were as simple as changing him back into a wolf—but since the wolf’s spirit most likely died when Olan performed the original spell, there was no spirit to reenter the body. It was already decaying behind the cottage.
By the time the suns rose, Valkyrie arrived. Nar had ridden as fast as his hooves would carry him. Nora had gone back to the wolf den to retrieve their seven pups. Most were old enough to walk behind her except Derik. Fanndis had promised Nora that she could live in the barn if they swore not to eat the horses. Nora quickly agreed. Valkyrie was shocked to see a family of wolves inside the barn when she stabled Nar with the other animals. The matron wolf eyed her with a wary curiosity. Valkyrie frowned and ambled towards the house. She wanted to know exactly what had happened.
When she walked into the kitchen and through to the den, all was quiet, though everyone was wide awake and sitting around the fire. She noted that Arna was absent from the gathering. Also noticed was Olan—the youngest of the Maslyn twins—who sat in a chair covered in blankets. His face was gaunt, nearly hollow, and his eyes were sunken into purple-skinned sockets. He looked terrible.
“What has happened here?” she demanded.
“Valkyrie,” Fanndis muttered.
Valkyrie observed that Stigg, Fanndis, Olan, and Soryn were in great need of sleep, though no one would get any if they continued brooding by the hearth. Using a small bit of magic, she put them all under a sleeping spell that would last until noon or so. Within minutes, everyone in the room, except for Valkyrie, fell into a deep sleep. Valkyrie went into the bedroom—she presumed that Arna was in there.
When Fanndis had contacted her, Valkyrie had guessed snippets of what had happened. Soryn and Arna had performed reversal magic and now Arna was in a coma because of it. Valkyrie had some experience in this area and knew that the girl was in no danger, but she had no idea when Arna would wake. It could be hours, days, weeks, years…it was hard to tell with magic of that sort. Dark magic. If she had been in the body of an animal, it was likely that she would have found her way to the cottage by now, but there really was no way to be sure. The best thing to do would be to watch and wait.
Valkyrie tried every spell she knew of to wake the girl, but her efforts proved fruitless. She even tried the same reversal spell Arna had done. Nothing worked. Heartsick, the old woman went back through the front room and into the kitchen. She knew the people in the middle room would be hungry when they awoke from their enchanted sleep. Taking some of the hanging herbs from the ceiling and vegetables from the root cellar below the kitchen floor, Valkyrie made a stew in the cauldron. She prepared the spices and herbs in the broth in such a way that it would bring comfort to all in the house. Valkyrie, herself, was in need of comfort after Annar’s death, though months had passed since. Her hair had grown a bit since she had chopped it off in her grief.
Many thoughts coursed through Valkyrie’s head in the silence of the morning. Summer birds sang bright songs outside the kitchen windows, but she felt none of their cheer. Still, a strange comfort settled in her old bones. She liked the cottage and the warmth it provided. She enjoyed the company of others. A thought came to her, “You could
stay here, Valkyrie.” She knew that Fanndis would most likely need help with all the extra mouths that had accumulated around the cottage and she could be of help with Olan—helping him get back on track with his Seidh training if he still wanted it.
By midday, the others began to wake. Olan was the first and Valkyrie made sure he saw her before any of the others woke up. She drew him into the kitchen for a talk.
“Hello, Olan,” she whispered.
“Valkyrie?” he croaked—not used to his human voice.
“I’m surprised you remember me. You were just a boy when you came to see me last.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice sounded far away, disinterested.
“I came to help in any way that I can,” Valkyrie replied, smiling.
Olan said nothing. He had no idea how she could help. He felt like dying. He had been responsible for his parents’ deaths. At the time, he had been disoriented. Olan had not expected to turn into an animal when he turned Fenris into one. It was all a mistake and yet, he had been the one to knock over the oil lamps and he had been the one who had killed them by causing the fire. It was his fault. Weariness claimed him and he sat. As a wolf, he had found peace about his past actions. Nora and his pups helped. Now…he had no idea how he would face each day. Olan had never wanted to be human again…to feel human emotions. It was suffocating.
“Valkyrie…” he pleaded before breaking down into sobs again.
Because of his crying, the others meandered into the kitchen. No one could say anything. Everyone felt it was their own fault for what had transpired. Valkyrie did not know what to say to any of them. “Let’s have lunch. I made soup,” she announced, floundering for words.
Olan had trouble with the soup. Living for six years as a wolf had created a pallet that was more drawn to raw meat than cooked plants. Because he could not bring himself to eat, but knew that raw meat would possibly make his human body ill, he decided to go out to the barn and visit his family. He pushed his chair away from the table, clumsily, and walked stiffly out the back kitchen door. Everyone observed how strange he moved on his human legs. In the barn, Olan saw Nora swat at Derik who had jumped onto her head. When she growled, he leapt off with glee. Olan wanted to cry. That was his family and yet, he felt so far away from them.
Ulf, you are still my mate and their father. You know this, Nora encouraged. We’ll sort this out.
He nodded and went to sit by her and the pups. Derik immediately crawled into his lap and snuggled against his stomach—like he did when Olan had been a wolf. Apparently Olan’s youngest had not noticed his father’s change in appearance.
It’s your spirit that matters—not the outer shell, Nora reminded him.
“Thank you for encouraging me, Nora. I don’t know what to do. I want to be a wolf again. I want to return to the forest. I want to run with my four feet. But I don’t see how that can happen until I can transmute my actual human body into that of a wolf. I can’t use transferring magic again…the price is too high…” Olan was tempted to cry again, but what was done was done and he was tired of running away from what had happened.
He had to deal with it now. At least Nora had relocated to Fanndis’ barn for the time being. That way, he could still be with his family while he tried to figure out what came next. Olan had no real feeling towards Soryn. He loved him, of course, but he didn’t remember knowing him that well as a boy. Being brothers did not make them automatically familiar with one another. Memories of being children together were muddled and faded. His thoughts about being human before being a wolf were dark and grim. He hated being a human now. It reminded him of the Seidh and of his brother’s evil. It reminded him of becoming a wolf and killing his parents. And yet…when he had become a wolf, his life had become simpler; his needs more basic.
When he had mated with Nora, his world had grown quieter, more peaceful and clear. He had finally forgiven himself for accidentally killing his parents, but when Arna and Soryn had flung him back into his human body, it was like a curse. His dratted hair had grown to his knees and Fanndis had braided it for him. Cutting it was unthinkable for some reason. It was the only pelt he had as a naked human. He missed his fur and his wolf senses. He loathed his human body. It meant he and Nora could not be together. It meant he could not wrestle with his cubs when they grew up—they would no doubt tear him to pieces.
Nora leaned her head against him, drawing him out of his thoughts. Olan felt the warmth from her fur and her pulse racing through her body. She was so strong and wild to him. Knowing his mind would only focus on his bitterness at being a human while he was with his family, he apologized to Nora and went back to talk to Valkyrie. Fanndis was extremely powerful with the Seidh, but he knew that Valkyrie was even stronger. Perhaps she could help him in ways she was not considering. He knew there had to be a way to return him to his wolf body or to make one.
“Valkyrie,” he called when he entered the kitchen.
“Yes?” she said, looking up from stirring the soup.
“Turn me back. My body is right outside. Make me like I was. I can’t stand this,” he said, trying to hold onto his willpower.
“Olan…”
“Can’t you do it? There is no spirit to return to that body if not my own,” he pointed out.
“It’s already decaying. It’s a dead body now,” Valkyrie explained, though she was pondering the idea.
“Then put me back and then heal the parts that have been decaying. I can’t be human anymore, Valkyrie. I just can’t.” It took all his strength not to cry again.
She looked on him with pity and then said, “Show me the body.”
Valkyrie was uncomfortable with the idea of using what was essentially necromantic magic, but she felt there was no harm in this—it had been his body for six years and the animal spirit had not returned to it. It was not as though she were about to try resurrecting a dead person. Olan was alive and well—just not in the body he was used to living in. Valkyrie followed Olan out into the back area of the cottage and into the woods a ways. There in the melting snow was Ulf’s lifeless wolf body. The white fur looked stiff and bunched up. She hoped that what she was about to try would work for him.
Olan leaned down and touched it—it felt strange to touch his own body when he was in his human form. He longed so much to be a wolf again.
“Please, Valkyrie,” Olan pleaded, wishing with all his heart that it would work.
Valkyrie felt uncomfortable that she had not told Fanndis what she was up to. However, the younger woman had gone to sleep and Valkyrie did not want to wake her after the drama of the previous nights. Summoning her strength and feeling the yreth growing, Valkyrie focused her energy on the wolf body. She breathed deeply of the chill late afternoon air and stretched out her arms—one toward the wolf form and one toward the human body in which Olan’s spirit currently resided.
Because transferring magic was just transferring one thing from one place to another, it was more or less spiritual telekinesis. It was only dark when one was transferring one living thing into another living thing’s body. When the object body was empty, it was acceptable. It required no ingredients. That was only for transmutation, reversals, and other sorts of physical distortion and spiritual transference. She imagined the result she wanted in her mind—Olan inside his wolf form, the form he had lived in for so long and in which he had grown to adulthood.
Olan stood very still—hoping her magic would take effect soon. As he looked up at the rising moons, he felt his viewpoint grow hazy and distorted. Now, he was looking up at the sky from a lower point and the image looked far sharper than his human eyes could perceive. He felt the sounds of the coming night within him instead of just with his ears. He could smell everything—the kitchen fire and the soup boiling over it, Arna’s smell had changed now that her spirit was elsewhere. All of this he knew just from scent.
It had worked. He sprang off of the ground on his four wolf feet. A victorious ho
wl carried into the summer wind and Ulf leapt up to hug Valkyrie who was stooped over the human body on the ground. She laughed, wearily, and patted his furry back.
“I’m glad for you, Olan. Truly. But know this…there will never be a time for you to return to human form. Your human body will now slowly die. I made the transplantation permanent. No one will be able to take your form away from you again. But the price is that your human body will die.”
I understand. You can burn it if you like or bury it. I have no more need of my human flesh. I’ve been reunited with my true form and with my family—including Soryn. It is good to know him as I truly am.
She smiled and extended her hand in the direction of the barn. Ulf ran off, excited and eager to brush his pelt against Nora’s and to play with his pups. He was free. As a wolf, he was free to run and roam the mountains. Free to feel true forgiveness for what he had done in the past. It was over. Entering the barn, he saw that Nora was preparing to hunt. When she saw him, her heart gave an extra beat and she bounded towards him, brushing her entire body against his. Next, she pinned him on the floor of the barn. The horses chuckled in their unique voices as they looked on.
Oh, love… Was all she could say. If wolves cried, Nora would have then. Ulf gave a playful growl and licked her nose. The pups bounded across the barn floor and covered their parents with little nips and howls.
“I’m happy for you, Olan,” Fanndis said from the doorway to the barn.
Fanndis.
“Please live happily and forgive yourself for what is past. We will deal with what has happened. Go. Live with your family. We’ll make sure you know what is going on at all times,” she said, teary eyed.
Thank you, master. I am in my true form—the form I was born to be in. Being human felt so constricting and cold…
“You’re welcome to stay in the barn as long as you like, but if you wouldn’t mind…it would be wonderful if you could remain our greenhouse protector?”
It would be an honor, my lady, Ulf said, as he bowed his head low.
Fanndis patted him on the head and marveled that he did seem more himself as Ulf. She expected Soryn would be very sad, but it was something that had to be done. Now they had to worry about waking Arna and tracking down Fenris. Not knowing where he was made her extremely nervous. When she walked out, she saw out of the corner of her eye the wolf couple settle into the hunt. They sped out of the barn like shadows—the pups were watched by Eira who swatted at them with her claws when they got too uppity.
Back in the cottage, Fanndis found Soryn in the bedroom sitting next to Arna. He whimpered, thinking no one could hear his crying. Tiptoeing, so she did not alarm him, she put a hand on his back and said, “It’s going to be alright, Soryn.”
“It’s all my fault,” he said. “I should never have gotten out of that tower. None of this would have happened.”
“You can’t go through life and think ‘if only I’d never’ all the time. We cannot know what would have happened if you had stayed in the tower. We only know what did happen. You can’t change it. The only way to make it better is to work hard and live one day at a time.” Fanndis encouraged.
“If there’s nothing you or Valkyrie can do to wake her, what am I supposed to do?”
“Talk to her. Work diligently to be the best Maslyn you can be so that when she wakes up—and it is when—she’ll be very proud of you,” Fanndis told him.
“Alright.” He was not convinced, but he just needed Fanndis to leave for a little while. He wanted to be alone with Arna.
Fanndis figured he wanted to have some time to himself and she went back into the main room. It was late. Stigg was already smoking his pipe and reading—almost as if the events of the previous night had not occurred at all. When she looked at the title of the book, however, she knew the incident was fresh on Stigg’s mind; eating away at it.
“Tracking through Ice and Snow seems a bit dense for light night reading,” Stigg’s mother commented.
“I want to be ready. He may have gone into the mountains and I will find him. I’ll make him pay for what he tried to do to her.” Stigg turned a page, a determined scowl set deep in his face.
“Stigg…” Fanndis whispered, knowing it was no use when her son set his mind to something.
“He tried to rape her! Just think if he had succeeded! If she had gotten pregnant, it could have killed her she’s so young! I just…I...” He was overcome with his anger. Sitting up, he threw the book from him.
“Stigg, you stopped him. You saved her,” his mother pointed out.
“Tch—saved her. She’s in a coma! We don’t even know if she’ll wake up!”
“You love her.”
Stigg looked at the fire. The flames danced in his tortured eyes. “Yes,” he admitted.
“She’s a whole lot younger than you, Stigg.” Fanndis pointed out.
“I can’t help it. She’s almost a woman. I would certainly never approach her until she was. I know she doesn’t love me and that she won’t marry me one day, but I have to try; as soon as she’s a woman,” Stigg said.
“She’ll marry Soryn, you know.” Fanndis didn’t want to hurt her son, but it was the truth. She and Valkyrie had already seen glimpses of it with their foresight.
“I don’t care. I’ll be surprised if I ever love another woman. She’s the one for me or I’ll have no one.”
“Stigg, you may not feel that way someday.”
Instead of replying, Stigg picked up the book from the floor and continued to read. Since Fanndis knew pushing more conversation would be useless, she walked back to the kitchen and sat down at the table with Valkyrie, who was sipping hot tea.
“Stigg is full of rage, isn’t he?” Valkyrie noted, having overheard their conversation.
“Yes. I’ll be surprised if it dissipates anytime soon. He loves that girl, even though he’s nearly twice her age. Obstinate boy…” Fanndis rolled her eyes.
The two women sat in silence for a while. Soryn stayed in the back room with Arna. Stigg fumed over his book. Depression hung like a heavy vapor over the cottage. Everything had gone wrong. Fanndis was glad that Valkyrie had been able to give Ulf what he wanted, at least. Fanndis knew she did not have that kind of strength, though she was an advanced practitioner of the Seidh. It took extreme power to do that sort of spell; power she did not have.
“Cheer up, old girl. We’ll make it through this.” Valkyrie winked at her—suddenly the optimist.
Fanndis had seen a change in the woman—other than the short cropped hair.
“What’s happened to you, Valkyrie?” Fanndis asked, curious.
“Something happened up on the mountain after Annar died,” she began. “I was so overcome with my grief and regret and I just wanted it all to go away. Someone came to me—a wolf. We merely sat in silence and watched the suns rise together. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I felt an unexplainable hope, despite my sadness. Since then, I’ve felt comforted. I know I can go on. It’s what Annar would want. Annar wanted to be human so badly, yet I forced him to remain a goat to prolong his life. All I was really doing was prolonging his suffering. When I saw Olan’s pain, I couldn’t fail to help him. That’s why I changed Olan back. It was the right thing to do.”
Fanndis did not know what to say. Valkyrie had always been such a sarcastic, blunt person. To see this new calm and compassionate figure was a wonderful change.
“I’m glad for us both, Valkyrie,” Fanndis said, touching the older woman’s hand and patting it gently. “I’m glad to have my teacher back and to have a friend in all this.”
“I suppose we’re in for a long summer of waiting.” Valkyrie pondered aloud, exhaling and holding the tea mug between her wrinkled hands.
“I suppose. Perhaps we’ll know something before winter about Arna—surely it won’t take that long to find out where she’s gone…”
Valkyrie did not reply. Instead, the two of them sat for the rest of the night
in silence, talking occasionally and praying for guidance. It was a chill summer night and the wind battered the stone cottage. Eventually, Stigg fell asleep in his chair with his pipe in his hand, his book against his chest. Soryn fell asleep holding Arna’s hand, his head on her shoulder. All were restful in the house and conquered by a brief, fleeting peace in spite of the sorrow; each one weary, waiting for what was to come.
THREE YEARS LATER