Authors: T. G. Ayer
A frigid wave of shock washed through my blood. Aidan had no idea how he'd died. I wasn't sure how to tell him. I decided to tell the whole story. He was a Warrior, after all. He could handle it.
"You were lying beneath the old bridge in the reserve behind the park. You had one foot in the stream and your eyes were open." I swallowed as tears gathered in my throat. "You still had your black leather jacket on, but it was stained with mud and probably blood, too. I think I recognized it, but I didn't pay any attention to it at first. Only when I got real close. They executed you, Aidan. A bullet in the middle of your forehead at close range."
The tears fell and neither of us moved.
Aidan's fingers still traced his forehead, now wrinkled with a frown, darkened with anger. He was so silent for a while I thought he wasn't going to talk about it anymore. That the thought of his violent death was too difficult for him. But when he responded I was surprised.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said. "You know it was probably worse for you than for me. I felt nothing more than a thump on my head and then it was lights out for me. No pain. Nothing. Next thing I knew I was waking up in Valhalla. Feeling as if I'd drunk a whole bottle of whiskey."
He rose, as if he was about to get up and come to me. Just the thought of him offering me comfort made me want to bawl my eyes out. I rolled over, turned my back to him, and burrowed under the covers. To hide the tears that slipped so quickly down my cheeks, hide the ripe emotion in my eyes.
I lay there, listening to him listening to me. It took us both forever to fall asleep. Much later I heard the fluttering of wings and the rustle of the curtain as Hugin flew from the TV stand to the window, looking outside at who knows what.
When I finally slept, I dreamed of Loki and cruel laughter and bright colored eyes. Of dead eyes and icy blood coating my hands. And of Freya standing beautiful, perfect with her glowing circle of suns around her graceful neck.
The next afternoon Aidan rose from a fitful sleep, with purpling bruises beneath his eyes and a tired, strained look pulling his face tight. But it was the faint bruise in the middle of his forehead that made my heart slam against my ribs. I contemplated telling him about the curse right there and then, before he could commit himself any further. But it wouldn't be worth it. He'd just be forced to come with me, if only to save his own life. And he would hate me for it.
I gave him half a glass of Mead.
"Wow. Whatever is in this drink is potent."
I glanced up at him as I zipped up my boots. "You feeling better, then?" I tightened the belt around my waist and slung the pack over my shoulder. Thankfully, with the wintry weather we didn't stand out too much, all dark coats and boots.
"Absolutely. I feel brand new." Aidan's eyes shone. I silently kicked myself, certain I must have given him too much. The last thing we needed right now was for Aidan to be high on Mead.
"Come on then, Mr. Brand Spanking New. We have a museum to visit." I grabbed his arm and pushed him out the door, smiling as he chuckled and made his way out.
We checked out, grabbed a bus into the city center, then another into New York. The rest had done us well. In body, if not in mind.
***
We lurked around the park across the street from the museum until well after closing. I studied the old building, with its towering columns guarding the museum's entrance, an impressive structure, built to awe those who passed over its threshold. Old stone meshed with modern architecture and landed on perfect.
Again, the back entrance was our route, and Aidan's access cards still worked. The museum no doubt had no idea he'd "died." We slipped into the darkened building, bypassing the alarmed museum area, making our way upstairs to the offices and cataloging rooms. We passed standard issue offices ensconced amid intricate architrave work, and beautiful old prints on the walls. Aidan knew his way around and led us to a room in the far corner of the floor.
Aidan made himself comfortable before the closest workstation, tapping away at the keyboard. Soon a printer hummed in a corner by the window, and I went to gather the papers for him, stuffing them into a large plastic envelope.
The air conditioner would have shut off hours ago and the room was stuffy. I stood by the window, looking out at the thick darkness of the park, at the slight movement in the branches of the nearest tree where Hugin waited.
It was so dark outside that the window reflected my face back at me. A young woman stared back, one who looked unaffected by the trauma and the stress and the guilt of the last few weeks. Was it the Valkyrie blood that made me this way? Strong in the face of adversity. Eyes still bright and alive, hair as hideously red as ever.
Aidan's voice broke through my thoughts. "Right, got everything."
"So what were you looking for?"
He rustled the envelope in his hand. "A report listing all the items found at the original dig site and another one, which is a catalog of everything the museum has in its collection."
"So what happens if the rest of the necklace isn't there?"
"Then we come back and have a look at another catalog."
I folded my arms and frowned. "Isn't that a bit of a risk, Aidan? Coming back here again? What if your access card has some kind of trigger to it and makes them keep an eye out for us, or it locks you out? You don't know who your father knows here at the museum."
"That's it!" He waved a finger at me and tapped the keyboard some more.
"What's
it
?"
He didn't answer, merely scribbled furiously on a piece of paper. He rose and stuffed the paper into his pocket, logged off the system and shut it down. "Come, we're done here."
We headed out into the frigid night. And I breathed a sigh of relief. Every minute inside the museum had ticked by with the constant fear of being discovered.
***
We grabbed some takeout, another tasteless meal in a long string of tasteless meals. We found a motel, much the same as the last one, and hunkered down for the night, eager to study the information Aidan had printed.
"So what were you looking for?" I asked, my voice a tad too sharp. I was annoyed with him for keeping his hunches close to his chest, like the information he'd scribbled on the piece of paper. He still hadn't told me what that was.
"I needed a catalog of every item found at the dig where Brunhilde was uncovered," he said. "And an inventory of the museum's collection of artifacts from the burial site. Now all we need to do is check through the two lists, tick off what's duplicated, and find what's missing. The rest of the necklace must have been found in the grave. It must be where your father found your pendant."
I thought it was unlikely the reports would say:
Brisingamen found. Brisingamen lost
. But I paid attention. He began to read off items off one list, while I ticked them off on the other. A long, tedious process, and a necessary one. I crossed off lines that sounded insignificant, like feather and stones and shards of pottery.
At last, he stopped calling out items and we had a small list of unmatched jewelry, adornments, clothing and weapons. We completed the checks and found what we were looking for.
Two neckpieces.
They were listed in the catalog, each marked with a note indicating they were no longer part of the collection. Aidan and I looked at each other, pretty satisfied with this development.
"Well, we know your dad had one. Now to figure out who has the other item."
"Do you think it could be the one Loki gave us?" I asked.
"No, I don't. Unless the other piece was given to him by the museum or whoever had it in their possession."
"Who do you think has it, then? What about the archaeologist who supervised the dig?"
"Exactly who I was thinking of." Aidan nodded, then jumped off the bed to dig around in the pocket of his coat. He waved the paper at me and said, "This number should lead us directly to the Professor."
I sighed. Relieved that we were making headway with our search. "You're ringing her now? It's almost three in the morning."
But he was already picking up the phone and dialing, giving his head a tight shake as if a three a.m. phone call wouldn't piss a sleepy Professor off. When his face crumpled I knew we'd hit a snag. "It's a message. She's on a dig in Greenland."
"I don't suppose the message said how long she will be away?" I should have known it was too good to be true.
"Her message said to ring her service and they will get in touch with her. But what the hell do I say to her to get her to ring me back?"
"Give me the phone. I have an idea," I said.
I dialed the service and left my message. "Dr. Wayne, this is Bryn Halbrook, I need to talk to you about Brisingamen. This is extremely important—life and death."
I cut the call and prepared to wait for a response. It would still be daylight for her in Greenland. The chances were slim that she would ring back in the next few hours. So I was shocked when the phone rang only two hours later as we were both finally falling asleep. I scrambled to answer it.
"Hello," I said. I didn't say my name. Things had become radically crazy in the last few weeks and the knowledge that we'd already been followed was never far from my mind. Aidan's dad's thugs could be tracking us right now.
The voice was female, with a clipped American accent. "Bryn Halbrook?"
"This is she."
"This is Professor Wayne here. You left a message with my service?"
"Yes, I needed to speak to you, but it's not something I can discuss over the phone."
"I can understand that. But I can't exactly take a cab to meet you. Can you charter a plane to get you here? I can't leave the dig site. Part of the glacier has shifted and opened up a burial site. I can't leave until the entire site has been processed."
"I'm sorry, but we don't have that kind of money." I was appalled that she'd thought we could afford such an extravagance.
Her next words astonished me. "Sure you do, girl. You are Geoffrey's daughter, are you not?"
"Yes, but—"
"Okay, I'll arrange the flight for you. The charter will ring with the details. How long do you have?" She was all business, and yet a little vibration in her voice matched the shiver of fear running down my own back.
"Not much—a few days," I answered, knowing she'd have no idea what the reason for the deadline was.
"That's cutting it pretty close, but get here and we'll see what we can do."
We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I stared at the phone, aware that everything had just gone haywire. A charter plane to Greenland!
Hugin fluttered his dark wings and flew toward me. At first, I'd been uncomfortable with the bird, especially when he flew right at me to land on my shoulder. Now all I did was watch him until he settled. He cocked his head and stared at me.
"What is it?" I asked.
For the first time, the enigmatic black bird spoke to me. I almost jumped out of my skin. "
There is a way for you to get there without using a mechanical transport
," he said, his sensual baritone so unsuited to his placid eyes. Such sexy tones didn't mesh well with the black-feathered raven.
"Which is?"
"The same method that you used to move from Asgard to your town of Craven."
Aidan stared at me and it took me few seconds to figure out he hadn't heard a thing.
So only I could hear the bird speak? Just great.
I repeated Hugin's suggestion to Aidan and we exchanged doubtful glances.
"Hugin, I have no idea how to do that. I've had someone from Asgard with me each time."
Hugin cocked his head, his glassy eye staring straight at me. "There are different worlds that exist. I believe you refer to them as dimensions. We can travel through these worlds too, using the Bifrost."
"Bifrost?" I asked, frowning.
"Yes, the Bifrost. It is the Rainbow of the Gods. The bridge between the worlds."
"The room in Odin's palace?"
"That is one of the locations where the Bifrost sets down."
"What are these locations then?"
"Places where the walls between the worlds are thinner and easier to traverse, where the bridge can reach through the worlds."
I raised my eyebrows, then filled Aidan in. "Right then, what do I need to do?" I asked.
"Wait for me. I shall search out the nearest location and take you to it."
Hugin flew into the bathroom and pecked at the window. I rushed to open it for him, and out he went in a rush of flapping feathers.
A rainbow bridge between the worlds.
I wasn't sure I wanted to believe such a farfetched concept, but the chink of chain armor reminded me that I was living in the middle of an ancient Norse myth. It was crazy and interesting and unbelievable all at the same time.
Hugin came back within a short space of time and beckoned us to follow. "It can't be far since he got back so quickly. I'll go with him," I said, wanting Aidan to rest.