“Freyr, what happened to him?” Aleksandra asked in her usual soothing tone, the subtle scent of lavender flooding the room.
The god shook himself. The tenseness radiating from him ebbed, then disappeared. He glanced up at her and smiled. “Thank you, little Night Witch. Your magic is, indeed, strong. I’ve carried the burden of trying to discover what happened to Ghaldath for centuries, and in one mere moment, you soothed the pain I’ve held in my heart at his loss.
“We had just returned from a raid, high on our plunder. Ghaldath wanted me to ride on his brother’s ship to talk sense into him. Njal was youthful and talked about overthrowing their father, which my friend couldn’t accept, nor could he tell his father his favorite son was talking rebellion. Long story short, Ghaldath disappeared after we arrived back at their village. His father ordered everyone to look for him, but he was never found.”
“Not that I like this scenario, but when the younger brother realized Ghaldath would never join him, would he have cursed him?” Bernard asked. “More importantly, who else knew about this?” If gods could turn a sickly green, Freyr did.
Idunn and Freyja both laid their hands on his arms, but only Freyja spoke. “Brother, what is it?”
“There was one god who also traveled with us every now and again. The Vikings seemed to be his sanctuary. I can’t believe he could do this.”
“Who, Freyr? Who are you talking about?” Ailuin leaned against the table.
“Loki,” Mikhail answered for him, his gaze vacant and far away. “I see Loki talking with a young bear-sized man by an outdoor bonfire. He is leaning close, a fervent expression on his face. The blond man seems confused and keeps shaking his head at whatever Loki is saying...”
Mikhail shook his own head and his eyes cleared. “The vision faded before I saw Loki’s next move, but your suspicions are correct, Freyr. Not that saying this aloud is any easier, but I believe Loki is behind what happened to your friend and, quite possibly, behind the draugar’s actions now.”
The god stood so quickly, his chair flew across the room as he spat out a tirade ofunintelligible words. With fury radiating off him in waves, he headed for the door leading to the outside. His sister and Idunn jumped up and raced toward him, both women hanging from his arms as they tried to stop him, arguing in the same language.
Hearing Alva sigh, he turned as she scooted back her chair. She walked toward the gods and laid her hand on Freyr’s wide back and lowered her head. Bernard watched her lips moving. Surprisingly, the god stilled. Dropping his arms, the goddesses fell to the floor in undignified heaps.
Bernard moved closer, halting only a few feet away, when Freyja tilted her head back and glared up at her brother. Without saying a single word, she held out her hand. Freyr clasped it and pulled her upright. While she smoothed the wrinkles from her now-scarlet gown, the god leaned over and wrapped his large hands around Idunn’s small waist and lifted her to stand beside him. Bernard stared at Freyja, unable to comprehend how he had missed the change in clothing not once, but twice.
Reaching for Alva, he wrapped his hand around her forearm and pulled her back to his side. When she tried to step away, he held her tight against him, not liking the building mixture of anger and fear at what could have happened to her. Going up against a god like Freyr was so stupid. One strike with his large hand and she would be dead.
The rioting emotions faded until only peace remained. Staring down into Alva’s sea-green eyes, it took him a moment to realize she and her beautiful stone were responsible for taking away the dual emotions threatening to overtake him once more.
“Time heals all, Bernard, but please, let me help?”
Her beseeching gaze stared up at him and the wall he’d built around his heart began to crumble. “You already have, Alva,” he whispered. “You already have. Now…” He squared his shoulders and reluctantly let her step away. “Let’s get this done, so I can fix both the war and me.”