“They destroyed everything.” Émilien swiped his paw down his snout, then curled it into a fist and hit the tabletop. “Idiots! They had everything they could want. Homes to live in, food and drink, and they wanted for nothing, but it wasn’t enough. Olivier was beside himself and blamed the war on his guidance, but the king wouldn’t listen. He told us the war had been prophesied in ancient times, but by then it was too late, so with heavy hearts, my brother and I left. Olivier had always loved Midgard, so we went there and split up, so no one would find us. He motioned to his fur-covered body. “Unfortunately, I ended up like this, and my brother disappeared.”
Bernard dropped his gaze back to the image of his father, noticing the slight trembling of the thick paper. How many secrets this man had. He couldn’t help but wonder if his mother had known. From the corner of his vision, he caught Alva’s pretty silhouette and knew the answer. If he had been in the same position, with someone as amazing as her by his side, he would have told her everything.
“No more secrets,” he whispered to no one and everyone at once, then handed the picture back to Émilien. “So, I guess that means you’re my uncle?” The werewolf nodded his shaggy black head. “I’m sorry for what my father did. I would have liked to know you growing up...even fur covered.”
“The apology is not yours to give, nephew, but your father’s.”
“While that may be,” Bernard said with a shrug. “He isn’t here to give it, and I am.”
Émilien’s loud bark of laughter echoed through the room. “Damn, but you even sound like him. I will enjoy getting to know you, Bernard. Also, from the tiny pieces of information I’ve gathered, which wasn’t easy, I believe your parents and guardians may still be alive, which is saying something because your mother is human. Humankind don’t usually last long in a hostile realm such as Helheimr.”
“After I fix our current problem, I will help you search for them.” He glanced around the table. “Does anyone have an idea how to get past the draugar?” Hope began to fade as one after another, they all shook their heads.
Lastly, his gaze fell on Alva as her blond eyebrows rose. “I am so stupid,” she said. “I should have thought of this earlier.” Her expression changed to one of wide-eyed hope as excitement filled her eyes. She reached under the table, and he tilted his head to see what she was doing when she pulled something from her pocket. Laying her hand on the table, she uncurled her fingers.
Leaning forward, Bernard stared at the largest, most brilliant blue topaz he had ever seen. “Where in the world did you find that?”
“When I was held in Maya’s dungeon. I’m embarrassed to say it, but I whined...a lot. The dungeons had no light, and after being in complete darkness for so long...well, your mind plays tricks on you. Not long before I was rescued, from out of nowhere, a brilliant blue light blinked on directly in front of me. When I investigated, I found this amazing gemstone in the wall. I can’t believe no one saw it there before.”
“Because no one spoke to it,” Freyja said, her gaze never leaving the gem. “I know this stone. It will only respond to one voice. Your voice, Alva, awakened the Stone of Protection, which is that and so much more.” Her amethyst gaze rose to Alva’s face. “You have been granted an amazing gift, dear child. A truly amazing gift.”
“What else does it do?” Raisa asked Freyja in an awe-filled voice.
“It gives the bearer strength and courage, lessens one’s fear or anger, and drives away sadness. The stone is a protection against death itself. I believe this stone has many secrets yet to discover, like most stones of power usually do.”
“The stone speaks to me in my mind,” Alva said, her thumb rubbing the topaz’s smooth surface. “It helped me escape the dungeon.”
Freyja sat up straighter, looking as regal as ever. “We have just found our means of defeating the draugar. You, Alva, breached their shields. You were able to speak with them, to the one who seemed to be their appointed leader. I believe you are the key to stopping whoever is behind the barrier.”
Alva’s gaze dropped to the stone, and her fingers once more curled over it. “No pressure then,” she muttered as she slipped it back into her pocket.
Bernard tucked a stray strand of her white hair behind her ear and grinned. “We will do this together.”
“That’s the idea I had in mind.” Freyja’s eyes sparkled. “As we were discussing before, seeing yourself in the past isn’t something I would recommend you do. I believe we need another intervention to get your attention, and this time, she won’t be disguised as a klutzy secretary.”
He frowned at the goddess. A memory surfaced, and he raised one brow. “Fort Scott—the woman who stumbled into me and knocked us both to the floor.” He turned to Alva. “That was you?”
She grinned and nodded. “That was the only thing I could think of to slow you down so you wouldn’t see yourself. Freyja had to implant the memory of a dark-haired woman on your first visit, so I could stop you the second time.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “My back still aches a little. You pack a hard punch.” He loved the pink blush covering her cheeks as she looked down at her lap. “Alva.” He waited until she finally looked up at him. “I’m joking with you.” She nodded, then dropped her head again, and he chuckled.
“So…” He pulled his gaze away from her and locked gazes with Freyja. “What do you propose we do?”
“We’re all returning to Midgard, and after Alva talks to the draugar leader—”
“His name is King Ghaldath,” Alva interrupted.
Freyr leaned forward, an intent expression on his face. “Did you say Ghaldath?” Alva frowned but nodded. Freyr dropped back in his chair with an amazed expression. “After all this time...” He rubbed his face a couple of times before dropping his hands to his lap.
“Brother, what is it?”
“Freyr! Is this the Viking you told me about?” Idunn exclaimed, laying her hand on the god’s thick forearm. “The one you looked for?”
Freyr nodded and covered Idunn’s hand for only a moment before turning his glance to Freyja. “Sister, you remember the raids I participated in with the Viking?”
“During your rebellious stage, as I recall.”
“Really?” He gave her a droll glare. “I was youthful and incredibly bored just sitting around here. Anyway, I met a Viking family who raided the northern coast of what is now Europe. Their father was the hofðingii, or chieftain. Ghaldath was the eldest son and my best friend.” He stared at the table, lost in thought.