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“Good. Now, back to my previous question, did your two blinks mean you don’t have the ability to transport?” The stone’s light blinked once. “Well, that’s not helpful. Guess I’m asking Freyja.” She slid the stone back in her pocket. Holding the nearest tree trunk, she stood on her tiptoes to see into the building and saw Bernard still talking to two soldiers.

Dropping back onto her heels, she sighed. Freyja, I have completed my task. Can you send me on to wherever Bernard is?

Isn’t he there with you?

Alva chuckled, totally understanding her confusion. The history-rewriting Bernard is here. I need to get to the history-fixing Bernard.

Well, that’s not confusing at all, came back the goddess’s snarky reply.

A dizzy sensation filled Alva, but just before the nausea churning in her stomach became too much to handle, everything stopped as suddenly as it began. She opened her eyes to find herself standing between Freyja and her twin brother, Freyr.

“Thank you, my lady, but why am I here and not with Bernard?” She followed Freyja’s finger, which pointed to the God’s Glass.

“We have a small problem brewing in Washington, D.C.,” Freyja said.

Staring at the Glass, Alva frowned, then stepped closer, trying to figure out what she was seeing. “That’s not normal. Why is Bernard standing in the middle of the street like he’s lost his marbles?” She studied the area but didn’t see anything that would cause him to just stand out in the open like he was. From the long line of metal tracks running in all directions in front and behind the impressive white marble building near where Bernard stood, she recognized it as a train station.

Three tall archways graced the entrance and perched along the front facade were five statues. Having met each being represented, she recognized Prometheus, Thales, Themis, Apollo, Ceres, and Archimedes. She couldn’t help but admire the sculptor’s artistic ability. The likenesses were uncanny.

“Do you see anything out of the ordinary, brother?” Freyja asked.

Freyr moved a few steps closer and squinted up at the Glass, his head slowly shaking. “No. Can you—wait!” He pointed to the top of the scene. “Can you make the Glass move in closer? Focus on that large monstrosity of a building at the end of the street.” He squinted. “Massachusetts, I think, but it’s hard to tell.”

The Glass moved in with such speed, the forward rush made Alva queasy again. The scene stopped, and her body jerked in response. She pressed her hand to her abdomen, which felt like she was on board a ship in rough water. “Oh, I hate it when the Glass does that. It makes me feel horrible.”

Freyja nodded. “Me too.” Moving to stand beside her brother, her gaze focused on the scene, she scowled. “What did you see?”

Alva stared at the Glass as an almost iridescent shimmer crossed over the building before disappearing. “Wait! Did you see that? There was a slight distortion in the air over that building.” She pulled the two gods backward until they stood on either side of her. “Sorry, you were too close.” She pointed. “Now look.” The shimmer reappeared, then blinked off, just as it had before.

The Glass moved from location to location around the area housing America’s government until moving back to where Bernard still stood. “It’s bespelled,” Freyja whispered in awe. “The power to spell such a large area would be immense.”

“I don’t think one god could do something that big,” Freyr said.

Bernard moved, catching Alva’s attention. With one arm stretched out in front of him, he haltingly stepped forward until his hand seemed to press against an invisible wall. His handsome face turned into a scowl, reminding her of a few pirates she’d once sailed with. She plucked at her current skirt, wishing she could still wear the clothing of the times. The long skirt and high-collared coat had hidden both her tail and the bark covering her back. The corset had cinched in her waist, giving her the slender curves she had always dreamed of.

For almost five years, she had sailed with a pirate known as Gesel van de West by the Dutch. Laurens de Graaf had been debonair, tall and handsome, with blond hair and a mischievous streak a mile wide, and he had been her friend. His thirst for piracy had been unstoppable and his reputation, fierce. She had loved every moment of fighting alongside him. It had been the first time in her young life where she had felt worthwhile and free from the constraints of being a Huldra.

During the war, she had also worked with Bernard enough to know when he was reaching his boiling point, and from the anger now glinting in his eyes and the flaring of his nostrils, he was almost there. “Freyja, send me to him. We need Bernard clearheaded and thinking straight, not so furious, he does something we will all regret.”

“You think he will—”

“Yes,” Alva and Freyr answered in unison.

Alva raised an eyebrow and studied the god’s handsome face. “How do you know what Bernard will do?”

Freyr shrugged and gave her a lopsided grin. “He’s male?”

Freyja continued to stare at him, unblinking. “Not touching that at all. Quick question, though, but does he seem familiar to you—other than since you’ve dealt with him during the war? There’s something so familiar about him, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

Her brother tilted his head to one side and studied the small figure in the scene. “In many ways, he reminds me of a couple of light elves I knew long ago.” He glanced at his sister. “You remember the twins’ father’s advisors?”

Freyja’s mouth did a funny sideways twist before her lips formed a straight line as she pinched them between her teeth. Instead of answering, however, she simply nodded, which Alva found telling. She knew more than she was letting on to Freyr, and Alva couldn’t help but wonder what it was and why.

“Bernard’s expressions, features, and even his personality are like a blending of the brothers. As far as I know, though, none of the family survived the war, and no one has heard from them since.”

“Are you talking about—?” Alva interjected, wondering if Freyr was talking about the people Freyja had mentioned earlier. After a quick glance at the Glass, though, she knew her questions would have to wait when Bernard launched himself against the invisible barrier.

Alva pointed at the Glass. “Freyja, Freyr, I need to go help him. When Bernard gets angry—”


Tags: Heidi Vanlandingham Fantasy