Timeless (33 page)

He met her gaze. “How old would you guess I am?” he asked quietly.

Avril studied Hauk’s angular features and sun-colored hair. He appeared as youthful as his friend, barely touched by time. His face showed not one line or wrinkle, his smooth, tanned skin marked only by the stubble of burnished gold that skimmed his cheeks. With his strong jaw and those pale-blue eyes that matched the sky, he was more handsome than any—

She drew herself up short. She had been about to think
than any mere mortal had a right to be.

But he was not a mere mortal.

“I... I cannot tell. You look no older than Keldan.”

A fleeting smile brought out a dimple in his stubbled cheek. “Aye.” He hesitated, and his expression became somber as he kept his gaze fixed on hers. “But I was born three hundred years ago.”

Avril heard Josette inhale sharply. She herself could not make a sound. The evening sky seemed to whirl dizzily as Hauk’s words echoed over and over in her mind, like the waves splashing onto the shore.

Three hundred. Three hundred.

Three.

Hundred.

All the air vanished from her lungs. She gasped, choked. An uncontrolled laugh bubbled up in her throat. “This is a jest. You cannot possibly be—this must all be some kind of
jest!
No one can live to be
three hundred
—”

“I am only in my middle years, compared to some among our people.”

She shook her head in denial, but he was not teasing her. Clearly he was not. There was no amusement in his deep voice. And no happiness. He remained solemn, stating it all calmly.

As if he were relating simple, indisputable facts.

Trembling, she had to put out a hand to steady herself. Felt surprised to find solid earth beneath her. “You mean to tell me that all of those... those merchants and farmers and craftsmen in town are—”

“Older than they look. Some are
much
older than they look. We
innfodt
mature to the age of thirty, and then it is as if time...” He shrugged one bronzed shoulder. “Stops. In truth, we are not certain what the upper limit of our years may be. If there is one.”

Josette looked at Keldan in astonishment and distress. “Do you mean you may live
forever?
”

“We do not know,” Hauk told her. “For centuries, men have searched the world for the legendary key to eternal youth—what some have called the waters of life—and what they seek is here. On Asgard. Accidentally discovered more than six hundred years ago, by a small band of Norse explorers who were seeking a new sea route to the west.” His mouth became a grim, bitter line. “And yet it remains a secret. A mystery—”

“You do not know how it is that the island affects you this way?” Avril guessed. “As you do not know how it heals.”

“Aye.” He nodded, his voice becoming harsh. “But whatever it is about Asgard that sustains us, it comes with a price. We cannot live without it. We have become connected to the island in some way—we are part of it and it is part of us. As long as we remain here, we may live forever.” His eyes held hers again. “But in the outside world, in your world, we live no more than six days.”

Avril felt her heart beat a strange, hard stroke that stole her breath. “You can never leave?” she asked softly. “You are”—she searched for a word, felt surprised when she found it—”captives here?”

He shook his head. “Most do not see it that way. Asgard is a pleasant place, after all. A paradise.” He gestured at the sun-warmed beach, the lush forest, the waterfall that cascaded down the nearby cliffs. “The elders long ago made it a law that no one may venture out even for a short time, to protect Asgard and its secret. But it is almost unnecessary. Most
innfodt
are happy to stay.”

“But not everyone,” she said.

Not you
. She could tell by his voice, had noticed it before—that trace of bitterness. Of yearning.

It occurred to her abruptly—jarringly—that she and Hauk had much more in common than she had ever suspected. She knew all too well how it felt for someone of independent, adventurous spirit to have that freedom curtailed.

How would it feel to live like that for three hundred years?

Something inside her knotted with pain as she remembered the books she had found in his
vaningshus
. Written in his youth, he had said. He must have longed to travel those distant lands. It must be torture for him, leaving now and then for a few days, enjoying a glimpse of the wider world, of freedom, only to be forced to return. She was amazed he left at all.

Then she remembered that he had told her he
had
to leave now and then, as part of his duty as
vokter
.

“Not everyone is happy to stay,” he agreed quietly, glancing toward his boat moored in the cove. “We are Norsemen, after all. Exploration and wandering are in our blood.” A muscle flexed in his lean jaw. “But those who have given in to temptation, who have tried to test the limit of six days, have paid with their lives.”

The gruffness of his voice made her guess that included someone who had meant a great deal to him.

Her throat closed. She had once assumed that Hauk lived alone in his clifftop
vaningshus
because he preferred it that way, because he was reserved and solitary by nature.

But that was not true. He had shown her this afternoon—and many times before—that that was not true.

And mayhap he had not always been so solitary. So alone.

Josette’s hesitant voice filled the momentary silence. “And what about us?” she whispered. “H-how long will we live?”

A shadow of discomfort passed over Hauk’s features, as if he had dared hope that question would not arise. “Not long enough,” he said, almost too faintly to be heard.

Avril could not speak. Dampness filled her eyes.

Hauk turned to face Josette and answered her quickly, stoically. “On Asgard, your lives will be longer than normal. You will reach mayhap seventy-five years, and you will retain your youth and health for much of that time.”

“And after that?” Avril whispered.

He did not look at her, kept his gaze on Josette. “Only those born on Asgard are
innfodt
, native-born. Anyone brought here later in life remains
utlending
. Foreign.” After a moment, he added, “Mortal.”

Josette looked at Keldan, who sat waiting, tense, regarding her with hope and desperation in his eyes—and another emotion that Avril recognized, though she was not certain Josette could discern it.

Love.

“But why bring us here, if you will only outlive us?” Josette demanded of him accusingly. “Why not marry one of your
innfodt
women?”

“It is an ancient tradition,” Hauk explained. “When that first band of explorers—twenty men—discovered the island’s healing qualities, they did not wish to spread word of this place, which would invite the entire world to their doorstep. And since they were a long way from home, they decided to follow the Norse custom of the time and—”

“Go and steal themselves some brides,” Avril said dryly. “From somewhere closer at hand.”

He nodded. “Unfortunately, Asgard’s founders enjoyed only a normal, slightly longer life span. It was the children of those couples, the first generation born here, who were the first
innfodt
. They were the first who did not die, and when they reached thirty, they stopped aging.” He paused, glancing out over the sea. “But that generation found that unions between two
innfodt
produce no children.”

Avril felt her heart pounding, began to understand.

“Most Asgard men are content to remain here and marry here,” Hauk continued, his voice becoming rough, “because to this day, if a man wants a family, he must risk venturing into the outside world and stealing himself an
utlending
bride. Few are willing to take the risk anymore, because the outside world becomes a more crowded, more violent, more dangerous place every year.”

Josette reached up to touch her mouth with her fingertips. “That is why you brought me here?” she asked Keldan with soft wonderment. “Because you want a family?”

“Aye, that is why he brought you here,” Hauk replied, his expression gentle as he looked at her. “
Utlending
brides are considered special, Josette, and Keldan wanted to marry the most special one he could find. A woman who would touch his heart. A woman with ‘sparks and liveliness,’ he said. The moment he set eyes on you, he knew you were the one. All he wants is to live in that
vaningshus
he built in the meadow and make you happy all the days of your life. And raise a little carpenter or two.”

Josette pressed her hand over her mouth, tears suddenly sliding down her cheeks. She left Avril’s side without another word and walked over to Keldan, kneeling before him in the sand.

She touched his face, spoke to him in Norse.

Keldan uttered a shout of relief and joy, wrapping his arms around her in a fierce hug. He said something to Hauk, his tone one of gratitude, before burying his face in Josette’s dark hair.

“
Ja, ja
,” Hauk replied hollowly, before he stood and walked toward Avril.

“I do not understand.” She looked up at him in puzzlement as he drew near. “What did she say?”

“She told him she loves him.” He glanced over his shoulder.

Keldan and Josette were now lost in a kiss, lost in each other, oblivious to the world... and sinking onto the sand.

Hauk cleared his throat and reached down to help Avril up. “And I believe we should allow them some time alone.”

“A
vril,” Hauk said after they had been walking along the shore for several minutes, “I find it difficult to believe that you have naught to say.”

Avril could not bring herself to look at him, or summon a response. She poked at a piece of seaweed with a long stick she had picked up as they wandered down the beach.

Leaving Ildfast where he was, they had set off on foot, following the curving edge of the cove toward the waterfall. The inlet was shaped like a broad, elongated U, open to the sea at one end, surrounded by the forest. Even the cliffs just ahead were laden with greenery, the waterfall splintered by trees and brambles into smaller cascades that glittered in the setting sun as they spilled into the cove.

She looked down at the icy waves lapping around her bare toes. She had removed her boots, carrying them in her hand, and unbraided her hair after the salt-scented wind blowing in from the ocean made a tangle of it.

“You must forgive me if I do not know what to say,” she finally managed to reply. “I have never before conversed with a man who is three hundred years old.”

“It is not difficult. I am not hard of hearing,” he said lightly, “despite my age.”

She turned to face him in the fading golden light. “Am I supposed to find that amusing?”

“I do not know.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You will have to tell me, which will require speaking to me. And you
have
conversed with a man who is three hundred years old—every day since we met in Antwerp.”

Avril could only stare at him, mute, unable to sort out the jumbled thoughts splashing through her mind like the waves on the shoals. She brushed a windblown strand of hair out of her eyes, knew that what he said was true: This was Hauk, the same man who had abducted her, provoked her, fought with her... and saved her life, comforted her, teased her.

Made love to her. Cradled her tenderly in his strong arms.

And awakened emotions and longings in her heart she had thought she would never feel again.

Yet he was
three hundred
years old. Had been on this earth centuries before she was born.

And would be here long after she died.

“Avril...” He moved closer. “There is no need to look at me as if I had just sprouted antlers. I am no different today than I was yesterday—”

“Aye, and apparently you will be the same tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that—”

“How reassuring to see that your wit is still intact,” he said dryly.

She dropped her boots and stabbed her walking stick into the sand. “You must pardon me if I am having a
somewhat
more difficult time adjusting to all of this than Josette. She is happily married to a man of fifty. I am...” She shook her head, looked down at her bare toes. “I do not know
what
I am anymore. Mayhap I am losing my mind.”

“Do you doubt what I have told you? What you have seen with your own eyes? Do you think I have concocted an elaborate lie for some reason?”

“Nay.” She swallowed hard and reluctantly met his gaze. “That is what frightens me the most. I believe you. I have seen enough of this strange place to believe you are telling the truth.”

His expression softened. “I knew this would be difficult for you to accept.” Reaching out, he caught a strand of her long hair in his fingertips. “That is why I did not wish to tell you so soon.”

“And when
were
you going to tell me?” A spark of anger flared inside her. “After you had bedded me a few times?” Another, awful thought struck her. “After I was carrying your child? Did you think that would—”