Hecate lifted the curtain that they were using as a door and motioned for me to join her in her “office.” I slipped inside, taking a seat. No leather couches here, but simple wooden benches with cushions on them. And her desk was a plank of wood atop four cedar stumps.
“Sit. Rest for a moment before we talk.” She paused, then at my skeptical look, added, “It’s nothing urgent. Don’t worry.”
So I sat, closing my eyes. Instead of the sounds of air conditioning and office machines, we listened to birdsong and the wind through the trees. Slowly, I began to relax. As I drifted, the currents of the wind caught my attention. Even though the tapestries kept them at bay, I could feel the direction they were blowing. The warmth had penetrated the forest enough to make me drowsy as I lingered in the moment. I took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly exhaled, the tension and worry streaming out on my breath.
Finally, I opened my eyes and straightened my shoulders. Hecate was watching me, a bemused smile on her face.
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Everything. I want to ask you a question, and you aren’t to answer now. I want you to seriously think about it for a while.”
“All right,” I said. Whenever anybody asked me to think over something “for a while,” it usually meant that whatever they were asking was pretty big. “Ask away.”
“A simple question. Are you happier out here than you were in Seattle? That simple. Think about it. Dissect it if you will. But come back when you truly know the answer in your heart.” She leaned back in her chair, stretching as she yawned.
I blinked. “That’s it? That’s the big question?”
“Yes, but you need to really think about it because your answer affects a great deal. Well, yours and several other answers combined.”
I nodded. When Hecate said “Don’t answer now,” she meant it. “About the village and whoever poisoned the wells. Do you have any idea of who did it?”
Hecate’s easy smile faded. “No, but I wish I did. Thor’s poking around now, looking into it. I wouldn’t want him on my bad side, especially if I were human. That much I’ll tell you.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands. “I’m not sure what to do, Hecate.”
“What do you mean?” She looked perplexed. “The herbalists are concocting an antidote. That will help those who were afflicted.”
“Not about the wells. Just in general.” I stood, stretching, and began to pace. “Back in the city it was go-go-go. When I wasn’t chasing after Abominations, I was working on a psychic cleansing. Or visiting Jason. Or hanging out at Dream Wardens. Here, the whole routine is gone. I don’t have many Aboms to chase. There aren’t really any psychic cleansings for me to tackle. It’s not the same. I could hang out at Dream Wardens here, I suppose, but…”
“I understand. You’ve been uprooted. Fury, your whole life was spent in the city. Most of your friends are much older than you and they’ve gone through a number of significant changes in their lives, including living situations. Don’t be surprised if you feel like they’re handling this better than you are.”
I lifted a corner of the tapestry nearest me and peered outside. There were no windows—without the tapestries the entire gazebo would be open to the elements. She was right. I had been feeling like I wasn’t picking this up as fast as everybody else. Jason had adapted. Tam adapted. Of course, he still lived in UnderBarrow, but the Barrow hadn’t been moved in thousands of years and now, it seemed that the time in Seattle had never existed. Even Greta and Hans were adapting. Of course, Greta was steeped in her training with Freya to a point even I couldn’t quite fathom.
I turned back to Hecate. “You nailed it. Really, I think that’s part of my problem. I don’t know how to change easily. My life was thrown into a tailspin when I was thirteen. And when Jason took me in, it pretty much settled into a pattern. Even after I moved out and into my own apartment, it stayed the same. I cherished the routine because, after Marlene died, change seemed like an enemy. I need to learn how to adapt.”
“Your days are fuller than you think. You train with me three times a week. You train your body six days a week. But now, it’s time to train your mind.”
“What do you mean? Go back to school?”
“In a way,” she said, laughing as she shook her head. “Fury, you’ve agreed to marry the Lord of UnderBarrow. Don’t you think it’s time you started learning about the people and the history of the world you’re going to enter? You can’t just stay like this after your marriage. Yes, you’ll always be bound to me, and your work with me comes first. But that leaves a large chunk of your life that you’ll need to devote to the Bonny Fae. You owe it to Tam to embrace his world and make it your own, as well.”
I stared at her. “I plan on learning the language—”
“Girl, don’t be dense. You’ll need to know the customs, the laws, the rules, the history. It’s like marching into Olympus and expecting everybody to adapt to you instead of the other way around. You’d be tossed off the mountain quicker than you could blink. Tam is Lord of his people. You owe it to him to know how to act, to be able to communicate. To not be a disruption in his kingdom.”
Hecate stood beside me. She lifted back the tapestry and tied it so that we had a good view of the forest. “Look out there. It’s a whole different world than Seattle. And UnderBarrow is, as well. You’ve been a guest, but now you’re going to be their queen. You must understand what that means.”
I stared at the thicket of cedar and fir that surrounded the gazebo, and as the bustling sounds of the woods filtered in, the realization that Seattle had well and truly fallen crashed into me like a Monotrain derailing off the tracks. A longing for my old life welled up, and I burst into tears, surprising even myself. I leaned against one of the pillars supporting the thatched roof and cried.
“I loved the city. Even with the Corp-Rats and the Devani and all the bogeys, I loved it. It’s all I’ve ever known. I’m not sure what I have to offer out here.”
Hecate opened her arms and I fell into her embrace as she held me against her shoulder. She was incredibly tall, and I found myself nestled against her breasts, which seemed weird at first, but the warmth of her hug wedged a crack in the barricade I had erected. My fear and worry came flooding out in the wash of tears and she let me cry until the sobs began to subside on their own. After a few minutes, I stood back and she handed me a handkerchief.
I wiped my eyes, noting that my makeup truly was waterproof, and blew my nose. “Thanks. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I was so upset.”
“That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. The first few months of any new situation, especially one as drastic as the one we came out of, are always a blur. We had to escape, then set up a new way of life, manage through the rest of the winter, all of that. Now, things are slowing down. We have time to breathe. And to think. I figured it was about time for a meltdown.” She winked, taking the sting off her words.
“I suppose it was.” I inhaled a deep breath, then let it slowly whistle through my teeth, taking the edge off the raw feeling that was irritating my lungs. Hiccupping, I let out one last choked sob, and sighed. “You asked me how I feel out here. I guess I feel like I’m a lot less useful than I was in the city.”
“I figured you did. But go beyond that, Fury. Sit down, breathe, let everything settle.”
I did as she asked. After a moment, I closed my eyes and once again I leaned back. This time, I could hear the chirping of birds, the susurration of wind through the tree boughs, the rustle of bushes. I could hear the forest around me, taking a deep breath and letting it out. There was a heartbeat to the land, I realized, just like there was a heartbeat to the city. Time here was based on the sun and the moon more than on lights and clocks. The rhythms were different, but they still existed. I just had to learn to settle into a new pace.
A few minutes later, I o
pened my eyes and sat up. “The silence out here has made me nervous. I can hear myself think, and that’s sometimes a scary thing. I can get used to it, though. And my lungs appreciate the cleaner air, that I do know. I don’t feel as rushed. And as long as I’m with Tam, I’m happy.”
“Then you have your answer. Home isn’t a place, so much as a state of mind.”
I nodded, biting my lip. Then something jogged my memory and I recalled my conversation with Shevron. I straightened. “I was talking with Jason’s sister. Verdanya is getting hit by Abominations. They have no one who knows how to fight them. Is there some way that we can train others who have the talent to see a soul-hole? To fight them, I mean?”
Hecate tilted her head, looking at me with a curious light in her eye. “I hadn’t thought about that, but you’re right on several counts. They’re closer to the city and the World Tree. They’d be far more vulnerable to Aboms. And they need a way to fight them. Perhaps you have something there, Fury. Let me think about it. Meanwhile, why don’t you go back to the village and see how they’re coming with the antidote. I’ll check with Thor on whether he’s discovered anything.”
I nodded. As I exited the gazebo, I thought about everything she had said. My life was changing and I had to run with that. Seattle was gone, and everything we had done there was in the past. While I would always carry my past there with me, it was time for the next chapter. And Hecate was right about another thing. I owed it to Tam to learn his culture, to learn his ways, and to become part of the world I was about to join.
I sucked in a deep breath, feeling the wind stirring again. New beginnings were on the horizon. Regardless of Lyon, regardless of Aboms, I was entering a new phase of my life. Ready to tackle my future head-on, I returned to Willow Wood, and to UnderBarrow.
Chapter 6
BY THE NEXT morning, Sarinka and the other herbalists had countered the Tripwater and Willow Wood’s water supply was safe again. I was sitting at a long picnic table with Tam, Kendall, Jason, Elan, Greta, Hans, and Tyrell while Thor roasted his goat Tanngrisnir over the fire. We had eaten this goat a dozen times in the past six months, mostly during the winter when meat was scarce, and each time, I still couldn’t get over how the next morning, the creature would be bouncing around camp with his brother Tanngnióstr, knocking over stuff like nothing had happened. Every time we had a special meeting, the god of thunder seemed to delight in providing fresh goat flesh. It almost seemed sadistic, but he was very careful to kill the goats quickly and he got them drunk first so the pain could be minimal. Both goats had a taste for booze that rivaled even Thor’s.
“Did you find anything in your search for the culprit who poisoned the water?” Hecate asked. It seemed odd to see her leaning back on a bench against another big picnic table, legs crossed, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. Her boots were exquisite, though, and I coveted them like Thor was eyeing the kegger that was sitting by the edge of the glen.
We were sitting next to the area where the Norse gods were building the new Temple Valhalla. At least, the ones who had stayed. When Seattle crashed and the world governments started to flounder, some of the Elder Gods chose to withdraw back to their respective realms, while some stayed here, deciding to back humanity.
“I found traces of Tripwater in a puddle to the south. It looks like whoever it was might have tested it out there on somebody. But no, I don’t know who did it yet. I do have some news, though.” Thor straightened up at the fire where he had been turning the immense spit containing the body of poor Tanngrisnir.
“As do I,” Hecate said. “You first.”
“We’ve received a notice from Odin. He’s been thinking it over and he’s decided that Midgard has always been a place we vowed to watch over. He—along with all those who went back to Asgard—are returning. Unfortunately, that includes my brother Loki, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He prodded the carcass and a whiff of the fragrant meat drifted past. I had to admit, dear old Tanngrisnir was smelling pretty good by now.
Hecate clapped her hands. “Wonderful! That’s about the extent of my news, as well. Zeus and Hera are bored back in Olympus, so everybody’s returning.”
I exchanged glances with Elan. That meant a full house of gods. What the other pantheons would decide was hard to say. The Finns had stayed, as had the Celts.
“Does that mean they agree to help humans?” I asked.
The original rift had been twofold—one, the fall of Seattle included the fall of the Peninsula of the Gods. Tsunamis didn’t differentiate between human and Elder God. And two—those who determined they didn’t want any part in interfering in human affairs once the going got rough had packed up and left.
“It will be like the old days,” Athena said. “Back in Greece, our temples weren’t filled with office equipment and gadgetry. Though I admit, I’m going to miss air conditioning.”
“You’re going to miss it,” Hans said. “We’re going to miss it too. We already do. Though this summer’s not so bad yet, and living in the forest instead of in the city makes a big difference.”
“Is it true, then?” Kendall asked. “Is Seattle beyond saving?”
“Yes, it is.” I let out a long sigh. “I’m still surprised that Lyon thinks he’s holding on to anything important. Except for the fact that the World Tree is in Seattle. Once Heimdall is finished with the explosive, we’ll take care of that and then, I guess we’re still back to a simpler way of life.” I tapped my fingers on the table, thinking about what Hecate had said the day before. “I want to make a run into Seattle, though. We should replenish supplies.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, not until we have the explosive ready,” Tam said. He gave me a long look. “Fury, we can’t chance losing you since you’re the only one who can see the portal on the World Tree.”
“Tam is correct,” Hecate said. “Send a different crew. I’m sorry, Fury, but you’re too important to go gallivanting off on a run like that. Stay here.”
As the meat crisped up and the tables filled with breads and fruits and cheese, I once again realized that my world was changing. But at least the Elder Gods were returning. At least we had that.
NOT QUITE TWO weeks later, I was sitting outside with Tam. I had just finished an hour with a language tutor that Damh Varias had found for me. I was studying Gaelia for an hour a day, and then customs and history for an hour a day with yet another tutor.
Tam was ecstatic. “You are making real progress,” he said, wrapping his arm around me.
We had finally sat down and established some acceptable perimeters for public affection. The Bonny Fae were quite promiscuous, but it was mostly in private, and there was a truly stark juxtaposition between their nature and their public behavior. It was what it was, and I had learned to accept it. But Tam and I had come to an agreement so I wouldn’t make a mistake that could embarrass the Court. Hand-holding was acceptable when we weren’t in an official Court setting, or when we were leaving rooms. As were kisses, as long as lips were closed. Hugging was acceptable, as long as it wasn’t drawn out, and he could put his arm around me, or vice versa, when we were out strolling or just hanging out.
“I’m trying.” I frowned. “I’m having some trouble with the fact that you have a gazillion words for emotions. You don’t just love, you love your spouse, you love your lover, you love your children, you love your sword, and each one has a different word for it.”
“We love a great deal,” Tam said, laughing. “We love so many ways we need a hundred words to describe it. Tell me you love me, in Gaelia.” He flicked my nose, gently, and winked.
I bit my lip, running over the pronunciation in my head first. “Iya eser ovair fre saswen.”
He kissed me slowly. The warmth of his lips against mine made me shiver and I took his hand and stood.
“Iya eser ungar fre saswen.”
“I’m hungry for you too,” he whispered. “Let’s do something about that.” And with that, he led me into Under
Barrow.
TAM’S BEDROOM WAS four times the size of mine. A giant four-poster bed rested against one wall, with covers woven in the colors of the aurora, shimmering with metallic threads that sparkled like stars in the muted light. The bed frame was made from walnut or mahogany, along with a matching set of dressers and nightstands. A sitting area held a sofa upholstered in a black and blue pattern, and two armchairs sat facing a fireplace built of white brick. The floor was a cool marble, and the ceiling was high—at least twelve feet. A door to the back led into a private bath that could rival any day spa.
I stared at the bed. When we were married, I’d be sharing this chamber with him, just like I’d be sharing his life. Over the past week or so, the realization of what marriage entailed had begun to dawn on me. We were joining lives, not just moving in together.
“When do you want to set the date?” I slowly began to undress, musing over the fact that we were talking about this at all. If someone had told me a year ago I’d be marrying Tam, I would have laughed them out of my apartment.
Tam shed his clothes. He stretched, his lanky, taut muscles rippling. He sauntered over to the bed. “Come here, woman.”
I laughed, slipping out of my underwear. “All right, but we have to start making decisions because I’m already getting asked about the wedding.”
As I jumped onto the bed, landing in the center of it, Tam sprawled, stretching out his arm. I snuggled into the crook, feeling once again safe and loved. He rolled over on his side, running his hand down my stomach, placing it flat right below my belly button.
“I want to talk to you about something else,” he said, staring down into my eyes.
“All right.” A flicker of worry raced through me that he might say sorry, let’s call it off. This was the only serious relationship I had ever had. Every other man had been wrong for me in one way or another, and even though I had had a crush on Jason at the time I was dating all the others, I knew in my heart they weren’t right.