Chapter Seven
Hanging out with Tristanmorning, noon, and night in mainly wolf form completed Steffen in ways he had no words to describe. Their forced separation had, over the years, caused a rift in Steffen’s soul, and now it was being mended. At least, that was what it felt like. He felt stronger. Over the years, a rift had opened up so slowly that the needed closeness with his mate—especially in wolf form—had filled it up so fast that it was hard to ignore, and he couldn’t ever imagine being separated from Tristan for even a week again.
Tristan seemed to feel the same, and as they relaxed together around the fire in the evenings, a deeper sense of calm and wholeness grew between them.
Also, they hung out so much with Elakdon and Randr that Steffen felt a growing first bond to the two fathers of his mate. He got to see and participate in their goofy sides, like battling each other for the skin to sit on but sharing once one won. Steffen and Tristan had sometimes grabbed what they battled each other for and run off, having the two chase them down. It was apparently a fun game they’d played since Tristan’s childhood.
If not for missing his pack like crazy, Steffen could easily live in a forest with Tristan.
There was one slightly disturbing factor to their evening relaxation, though, and that was the poisonous Incubus who never really left Elakdon’s side. And the Warlord always hovering over the red-eye. Navidon wasn’t a threat, though. He didn’t seem like one. He seemed cautious, awkward, and afraid, but he’d lit up and laughed at some of Elakdon’s fun stories, and when he did, he looked pretty hot. Well, he was a Cubus, so of course he was hot. A lot of Vargr Bitches thought so, too, and he definitely saw some action, yet he was always watched over.
The pace of the run had finally settled, and the weaker Alphas were slowly weeded out to run with Rasmus across the trail to set up camp. What had been pointed out early on was now confirmed: Mated Alphas had the strength to keep up, while single Alphas were the ones tapping out—especially when the embers of the four Alphas of all fired up to put out the call.
It wasn’t so much the speed because even a Beta like Rasmus could keep up with Hati. Hell, the Beta was faster in a straight-up race. No, it was when the intensity of the clashing embers weighed them down both mentally and physically that they had to push themselves to a point where it felt like running full speed through molasses. At the pinnacle of ember powers calling out, everything burned. Their muscles, their lungs, their hearts, their minds. And it only stilled when giving it their all, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. It stilled when shared. Like when their embers thumped in unison with the bond to call out for more to join them.
Steffen had felt like that once—when he’d chased down Tristan that first time. When his ember had screamed for a mate, and he’d fought so damn hard to catch up with the huge and fast Alpha leading the run. It felt very similar now, but the focus was different. More difficult. Only the strongest embers, burning the purest for their cause, kept up then, while the four embers of the leading Alphas kept egging them on to burn harder.
Steffen had been a disgruntled Beta, and it took an ember to ignite one. What had pained Steffen during the run back then had been Tristan’s ember calling Steffen’s to life. The four powerful Alphas needed embers to fire hard, which was then in numbers? Only mated Alphas kept up because two were burning as one, so it was the size of them together?
And with the ignition pain, it felt like their embers were being awakened by the sheer power and will of the Alphas of all. Betas had embers, yes, but were they...smaller? Or did they not burn as hot as those in Alphas?
It brought Steffen’s mind back to what Marisol had read on the stone so old and weathered that no one else could. A fiery stone had been broken up and put in the chests of the strongest Rigr. Steffen found nothing in lore that fit that imagery, and what she’d turned around and told the poisonous Incubus, Navidon, fit even less. Let it burn the Thralls? What was that about? That red-eye had looked as surprised as everybody else.
Cycles.
Was it a coincidence that Elakdon had found a poisonous Incubus on their run? Or a synchronicity to line up all that was needed for something to fall into place? With everything that had happened, Steffen believed in the latter, and it offered him more patience and tolerance to the guy’s presence. It was for the Cubi King to figure out, though, and he took as much time as he could every evening to sit alone with the red-eye and talk. Which wasn’t a lot of time. Steffen tried to give them privacy and not listen in, but he’d noticed that Tristan did. That was different. He was their son, and he probably did it to know where to aid his father should the verdict be that Navidon had to die for it. For now, it seemed he’d ride with them all the way to Brussels where all the Royals would learn more and then vote.
That was a while out, though, because they’d only just reached the end of their trail south and would move east for two days now, then run north again, this time up the mountains and into where Sleipnir roamed the most. V?lsung had seen them and that large bands were running their way. Also, a few V?lsung packs were, yet they didn’t seem to have it on their mind to challenge Warlord Sk?ll. They’d see, though, and if they brought dinner...lots of it, they were there to join the cause.
Their cause was to get home. Aiding in unity seemed to be the task they just decided to see through as a step toward that objective. Steffen wasn’t sure, and he felt mildly irritated at not knowing exactly. Only mildly because he trusted in Sk?ll and the following his ember meshed with.
It burned purer now, and Steffen saw less drastic differences in the forms of Matt/Sk?ll, even though the V?lsung form was still the least fun to be around. His ember burned pure, and that was what mattered.
“Your mind still races,” Tristan said.
Steffen nodded and shuffled back against his mate’s huge body.
“I could knot you to take your mind off things...”
Steffen smiled at the sexy tone in his ear. But the lust wasn’t there, just the teasing. Maybe because everybody else was sleeping, and even their tiny bonfire was dying out, sputtering a single flame once in a while to dance alone on the dimming bed of embers.
Around them, snoring sounded, both light and heavy, yet with thousands of wolves, Cubi, and humans around, there was also quiet chatting and moans from feeding. A low hum in the silence of the vast, open nature of Norway.
Warlord Magnus suddenly shot to his feet and silently stalked closer, his huge form coming close enough for the last orange light to dance on his fur. Navidon twitched, and the scent of dread mingled with the scent of smoke. The red-eye twitched again and whimpered. Tristan rose behind Steffen but stayed where he was.
Sobs mingled, and the scent of fear grew stronger. The red-eye was having a horrible nightmare.
“Father.” Tristan moved to poke his snout between Elakdon and Randr’s faces. “Father,” he whispered loudly.
Elakdon grunted and sat up, shivering as the cold hit his naked flesh.
Just then, Navidon squirmed on the ground and let out a blood-curdling scream.
Elakdon bolted from his sleeping spot, while Magnus slammed a paw on Navidon and shouted his name. Again, Navidon cried out, this time in shock, and he struggled around blindly, swinging an arm aimlessly as if trying to ward someone off. Maybe the Warlord offering a rude awakening from a nightmare.
Elakdon reached Navidon before he’d managed to crawl more than three feet from Magnus and bundled him up in his arms. “Navidon, it’s okay, it was a dream! It was a dream. You’re okay.”
Navidon gasped and struggled, but he finally stilled. “Nol?”
“Yes. You’re okay. You’re awake.”
Sk?ll’s white form stood out clearly in the darkness as he stalked closer. The hum around them grew louder as many had apparently been woken up by the scream.
Steffen shifted to human to have thumbs to revive the fire because Navidon was apparently cold. Either that or fear had not left his system yet to let him stop shaking.
Randr aided Steffen in the project, and soon after, they battled the smoke for the minutes it took for the flames to get a good hold of the wood and burn pure.
“Come closer to the fire,” Elakdon urged, leading Navidon back to the skins he’d crawled away from in fear. He joined Navidon there, keeping an arm around him and rocking him. Randr brought a blanket around to drape over them, then returned to his and Elakdon’s spot. “What did you dream?”
Navidon shivered and stared into the flames. Fear still clouded his eyes and pulled at his features. “I...it’s always the same, but sometimes it’s just worse. It’s always him. The one who...”
“Shit,” Elakdon muttered. “How often do you have dreams like this?”
“Weekly,” Navidon whispered. His voice shook. “But this bad? Maybe yearly. In those dreams, he...brings friends.” Elakdon pulled Navidon closer, hugging and rocking him. “And then it burns so bad. Even now. After. My veins burn.”
“Sounds like the poison that kills us.” Elakdon put his cheek on Navidon’s sweat-damp forehead where strands of hair seemed glued to the skin.
“But I’m immune, right? Is that why it just pains me, and I don’t die?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I don’t know why you don’t even hunger for it.”
“I get these...irrational thoughts and...” Navidon shrank in on himself, and the scent of shame mingled with that of smoke from the fire.
“Like what?” Elakdon urged.
“If...if I do it to him, then it’ll stop burning.”
“How long does it burn?” Randr asked.
“For hours. But if I...imagine revenge, it seems soothing. It stops faster.”
Elakdon heaved a sigh. “Then do that. But not while I’m holding you because our skin contact right now is pretty painful. It’s like I feel it, too. Share it with you. It’s hormonal, after all.”
“What does it feel like?” Navidon asked.
“Pins, needles, and nausea.”
Navidon moved back from Elakdon, who looked both relieved and dismayed by it. But he accepted it and helped find a blanket to wrap Navidon in and stayed seated next to the still shivering red-eye.
“Does feeding help chase it away?” a Guard Lady asked.
Navidon nodded.
“Dosed?” Elakdon asked.
Navidon shook his head fast. “No, no, then it tastes even worse.”
“I mean you dosed.”
“Oh, yeah, that chases it away fast.”
The Guard Lady came over and sat on Navidon’s other side. Raw hunger looked back on her. “I’ll feed you if you want,” she whispered.
Navidon raised a hand and caressed her jawline. “Let me explore your beautiful body for a while first?”
Elakdon grinned at Randr, then rubbed Navidon’s back. “Glad we found a quick way out of a nightmare. I’ll leave you to explore.” Elakdon shuffled up and pulled the blanket over his shoulders, then traversed the two sleeping between them and Navidon, and settled in with Randr. “Dose me, please,” he whispered. “Make it stop.”
Randr shuffled them under the blankets, and a small moan escaped a moment later. The Guard Lady moaned, too.
Steffen shuffled around to have his back to them and snuggled into Tristan as he returned to their spot. Now he wouldn’t be able to sleep for amorous sounds instead of a mind full of questions and musings.
Maybe he should just take Tristan up on the knotting.
––––––––
THE RUN ENTERED ITScalling phase in the early afternoon, and the Alphas ran with purpose and pulsating embers. Tristan’s sent out double pulses once in a while, and it was joined by the pulls of Feral Vargr Alphas in the running bond.
Excitement coursed through Tristan, yet Steffen was too focused on keeping up and adding power to the pull to be able to look around to see what caused it. Suddenly, Tristan broke away and ran hard—too hard for Steffen to be able to keep up, so he stayed where he was.
Minutes later, the Alphas of all fired down, and the running bond slowed. Now Steffen could run, so he weaved out between the bodies and raced to Tristan, who’d met up with a large pack of wild wolves.
Sk?ll and Freki came to Steffen in Vargr form, so Steffen shifted from his feral form.
“What’s going on with him?” Freki asked.
“I don’t know. He got really excited all of a sudden.”
“Something agitates the wild wolves,” Tristan called out.
Sk?ll shifted to V?lsung form. “Shade! Scout!” The shading billowed around Sk?ll for a moment, then exploded from him. That agitated the wild wolves even more, but Tristan took charge and displayed dominance. Wild wolves couldn’t talk the way Feral could, but the wolf instincts in Tristan let him communicate with them more than any Vargr or V?lsung could. The true Skinwalker and Alpha of the Feral.
It took a while for him to round them up, and for twenty minutes, they waited while the Warlords shaded and scouted. Elakdon joined the Alphas of all, who Steffen stayed close to.
Finally, Tristan shifted to Vargr and came over. “They bring news of something. We have to follow them.”
“To where?” Geri asked.
“That way.” Tristan pointed.
Several Warlords, including Sk?ll, turned that way and stared.
“Hikers,” Thorleif said. “There’s a camp that way, and a human is injured.”
“How many in all?” Steffen asked.
“Four. It looks like someone broke a leg.”
“How far?”
“Eight kilometers. It’s off our path. Call it in so that we can continue toward our objective.”
Sk?ll chuckled. “Our objective is to gain enough goodwill to easily win the favor that will see the original Wolf territory returned. We save them, tend to them, and get the injured to a hospital. That will speak in our favor.”
“I see...” Thorleif sighed. “I will take point then.”
Sk?ll nodded once. “Pick your team. The rest of us will continue en route, and you’ll get them to the campsite.”
“Yes, Warlord. I need the Feral-born son.”
“And me,” Steffen said. He was not leaving Tristan, so that was a given.
“We will join you to carry,” a Stallion said. He was the leader of the small band that had joined them not long ago, and three others stepped up.
“I need humans,” Thorleif said. “Soldiers.”
Three rode up to them, and Steffen recognized one as the original fifty-four of the Wolf Platoon and one who’d been at the hospital to pick Steffen up after the V?lsung attacks in the cities. He just didn’t remember his name.
“I’m the medic, and I have the first aid kit,” the soldier said.
“See you at the campsite,” Thorleif said. “Tristan. Show the way.”
“Yes, Warlord.” Tristan went to the wild wolves, and one set off. The rest stayed behind while Tristan, Steffen, Thorleif, the soldiers, and Sleipnir followed.
The powerful pull of the running bond thumped in their chests as it continued on the planned route, yet the heaviness of it lessened as they were no longer part of the core. Steffen wondered why that was the case. Why it grew heavier and harder, the more embers burned for the same reason and why the mass of it mattered. Knowing it was the power of the epicenter that allowed for the power of the shading and that it was fueled by embers, it would make sense, yet he wondered whether it was the heaviness of the V?lsung’s embers that caused it.
Vargr had run in huge packs during the last world war, and it had been kinda like this, except it had felt like a fraction of the heat and weight of now.
It didn’t take them long to run those eight kilometers, yet Thorleif stopped them at the border of where the scent of the hikers reached their noses.
“Steffen and Tristan, shift to human form and go in with the soldiers. Recognizable forms will hopefully lower any risks of attack.”
“Yes, Warlord,” they answered and shifted to human forms. They’d be walking up there naked, it seemed.
“Why not just us?” the medic soldier asked.
“Because you’ll need informed consent when offering to take them with you, and quickly being able to reveal the wolf forms is needed for that. Vargr are known to many as the heroes that saved the cities during the attacks, so their form may not cause as much fear as mine will.”
“Yes, Warlord,” the medic said. “And you run pretty fast in human form, too, right?”
“Yes,” Tristan said.
The medic nodded sharply and urged his horse to trot. The rest followed, and Steffen and Tristan set into a run. It was a crappy terrain for human feet, but they kept up.
“Hey! Stop! Help! Help!”
The soldiers slowed when someone was suddenly jumping and shouting from the top of a ridge to their right. He sounded Danish. The sight of two naked men, running with people in uniforms, seemed to stump the guy, though, yet they all went there, and the guy gave Steffen and Tristan the elevator-look. Priorities quickly put him back on track, and he looked at the medic, who dismounted and handed the reins to one of the others.
“My name’s Vestergaard, and I’m a trained nurse. I heard you have a friend in need?”
“Yes! Thank God. Up here.” He was definitely a Dane. But he stopped to look at Steffen. “There’s a woman up here, so please...” He pointed to their nakedness.
“I’m sure she’s seen one before,” Tristan said.
“We could shift to our wolf form, but that won’t take away our manhoods, just...cover them.”
The guy gaped. “You’re like the ones on TV?”
“Yes.” Steffen smiled. “And wolf noses brought you them.” He pointed to the soldiers.
“How long have you been up here?” Vestergaard asked the hiker. He was about Steffen’s height and a muscular man with short reddish-blond hair and a neat beard.
“We left the same day as the attacks in Denmark, so...almost two weeks?”
Steffen thought that to be closer to three weeks, meaning they’d been stuck in the wilderness for long enough to lose count.
“How long has your friend been injured.”
“Three days.”
“Let’s go!” Vestergaard trudged up the slope, while the others dismounted and brought the horses.
Steffen and Tristan followed. “Did you leave because of the attacks?”
“No, we’d planned it for six months, but we were happy we’d already bought the tickets. What happened after that? You sound Danish, so you gotta know.”
“We gathered under the legendary Alphas of all, and they’re currently running to gather the North to create peace under unity.”
“Against those bigger wolves?”
“No, we round those up, too, and find common ground,” Tristan said. “Unity.” A double pulse left Tristan.
“Where does that leave humans?”
“In stronger positions,” Vestergaard said.
They finally saw the campsite, which had been erected for long-term comfort and security. If they’d been there for the three days their friend had been injured, someone had worked hard. Three men and one woman lived there, and a pot of something bland cooked over the open flames.
“I found help!” The guy ran ahead. The woman crawled out of a modern-day tipi-tent. She gaped at seeing Steffen and Tristan and looked away.
“My name’s Vestergaard, and I’m a trained nurse. Please take me to your injured friend.”
“In here.” She ducked back into the tent.
The wolf that had shown them the way there came to Tristan, and the first guy backed up, his hand blindly searching for a weapon.
“He won’t eat you,” Tristan said.
“Can he at least shift so I know he’s not just a hungry wolf?”
“Well, no, because he is just a wolf.”
Steffen sniffed the air. The fear that came off the man wasn’t just that. Looking at him, he was a big and strong man in his early thirties, but something else stood out now that Steffen had gotten a better understanding of what to look for. “He’s Rigr.” Tristan nodded. “I’m Steffen, this is Tristan. What’s your name?”
“I’m Kasper.”
Vestergaard came out. “We need this guy transported as soon as possible and Sleipnir medicine. It’s a compound fracture of both fibula and tibia.”
Steffen knew enough to know that that meant both bones in the lower leg had broken and perforated the skin for the splinters to stick out. Infections abound—especially out here.
“I tried building a stretcher, but the landscape didn’t let us get far, so we set up camp. Our equipment kept failing when it suddenly got dark, and it’s like the signal can’t find us again.” The Rigr found his equipment and handed it to a soldier, who reached for it.
“Did this get wet?”
“Probably. We ran into rain the first night after we tried to move him.”
“And staying put is the first rule when in need of rescue, yes.” The soldier handed back the equipment. “How about we get you guys out of here?”
“You called in a chopper?”
“No. He’ll be carried out.” The soldier turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Warlord! We need Sleipnir’s assistance!” A roar sounded. “I wonder if that means yes.”
Steffen heard hooves gallop their way. “I think it does.” He looked at Kasper. “Four centaurs and one of those huge-ass wolves are coming here to aid you now. We left them a kilometer back to avoid frightening you.”
“Centaur? The only centaur I know is the brand of my work clothes!”
“Don’t know that one,” Tristan said.
“I’m a chef.”
“Cooking that bland shit?” Steffen pointed to the pot.
“You do magic with nothing, then.” He stepped up. “We ran out of rations two days ago, and our hunter is the one with a broken leg!”
Okay, the guy was hangry. Steffen could forgive him for that. “Well, you can look forward to huge steaks tonight. All of you.”
The sound of the hooves drew closer, and the Rigr looked up, then stepped back, gaping.
“Meet Sleipnir.” Vestergaard walked to them and explained the problem and the infection.
“I will get wood for a stretcher.” A Sleipnir ran off.
The Alpha Stallion approached, slowly. “We have medicine for your friend. Please pack up your campsite while we work, and we will carry him and your equipment to safety.”
Shade overtook them, and thunder clapped in the sky, while the ground under their feet groaned and vibrated.
“What the hell is that?” Kasper asked as if he’d been irritated about not knowing for a long time.
“Unity working,” Steffen said.
“V?lsung are closing in on the running bond.” Thorleif padded to them, and this time Kasper went for a big knife. “Don’t bother, little human.”
“Seriously. Bad idea,” Steffen said.
“Put. That. Away!” a soldier demanded.
“Is he like you or the ones that attacked?” the hiker asked.
“The latter,” Thorleif said. “Except they were not sent by us. We are allies to humans.” He looked the guy up and down. “Of Rigr. Of you. Why do you think we’re here!”
“They eat first and ask questions later if they’re not with us,” Steffen said.
“Then who would answer the questions?” Thorleif asked, puzzled.
Steffen snorted. “It’s a wordplay. From a movie or something.”
“Oh. Pack up. We must return to the running bond, fast.” Thorleif knocked over the blandness-in-a-pot and used it to extinguish the fire. In the meantime, the soldiers helped each other get the injured human out of the tent, and the humans got to it.
Steffen and Tristan helped situate the equipment on two Sleipnir, while the soldiers built the stretcher by Sleipnir instructions. It became a platform with a tarp for the injured to lie on. Ropes from the platform’s corners meant it could be suspended between the four Sleipnir, meaning the poor guy wouldn’t be dragged on the uneven ground. It left the three uninjured but starved hikers to ride on the soldiers’ horses, while the soldiers tried to keep up, running.
They set off, and Steffen and Tristan remained in human form out of solidarity with the soldiers.
“How far to camp?” Vestergaard asked after a while.
“Fifteen kilometers,” Thorleif said.
“Twenty-five,” Sleipnir said.
“Fuck...” the soldiers muttered.
“It’s fifteen that way.” Thorleif pointed left toward a valley that stretched a few kilometers.
“We must pass around that valley. That way.” Sleipnir pointed ahead. Looking at the valley, it was just more beautiful nature, but an eerie sensation warned Steffen to stay away. “We’re already too close.”
“To what?” Vestergaard asked. “He needs help, now.”
“We can run ahead with him,” a Sleipnir said.
“No,” Thorleif said. “We stay together. Shadows tease my senses up ahead.”
“Then call for backup!” Double pulses emanated from Tristan in quick succession, then a clean Alpha pull.
Steffen focused on Freki and Klaes and pulled hard.
“I have let my Warlord know, don’t worry,” Thorleif growled.
Thunder clapped in the sky, and the ground groaned under them.
“What does that mean?” Kasper demanded.
“That Chaos is responding to something,” Thorleif said.
“Chaos is an ally, too,” Steffen explained. “It’s not a threat to us.”
But something unsettled Steffen, and he didn’t really know what caused it. Was it whatever made Isbait kick the ground that hard? Or whatever made the otherwise beautiful valley up ahead seem so...off?
Shading overtook them, causing the afternoon to grow uncomfortably dark, and it increased a sense of...dread. And no, it wasn’t caused by something fed through the running bond because it grew as he stared down the valley.
“What’s with this area?” Steffen asked.
“Eight shadow wolves run with us,” Thorleif said. “Everybody stop.”
They did, and the soldiers backed up to stand with their backs to Sleipnir, cocking their weapons. Kasper slid off his horse and guided the other two closer to where their friend lay suspended between the four Sleipnir. He then pulled that big knife and turned his back to the center, ready to meet whatever was coming their way to protect his friends. Fear and aggression rose in equal measures in him.
Thorleif stalked around them, his huge shoulders drawing up as he bristled. Tristan shifted and followed suit, and the dark diamond patch over his shoulders rose, making him look even bigger and darker, while Steffen backed up to the horses, taking his Vargr form, too. If unfriendly V?lsung were coming, he’d be less of a threat than those two, so he’d have to be ready to go at what the bigger wolves injured enough for him to stand a chance.
Steffen pulled at the bond again, feeling it respond.
“I smell and hear no wolves,” Tristan said.
“Me, neither,” Thorleif said. “Those shadows are not of Wolf. Even the shadow wolves won’t enter there.”
“Any ideas?” Steffen asked.
“Shadows of old stir here,” a Sleipnir said. “These stones breathe. Caverns have eyes. We must leave and go around quickly, and hope what anger has awakened here won’t follow us. Twenty-five kilometers was by that path. Now we must retrace our steps and go north or south around it.”
Steffen’s mind scrambled through lore, and a few things stood out. Among them was an old song, but he needed something for that. “Maybe...are V?ttir real? That energy, I mean?”
“Yes, of course,” the Alpha Stallion said. “How else would the concept of nature spirits be put into words for human minds to comprehend?”
Steffen hurried to the woman hiker. “I saw one of you had a block of chocolate. You had some chocolate, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Where?”
“Red backpack, side pocket.” She pointed. Steffen ran there and sought the pockets, finally finding it. “But it’s all we have.”
“Good. Makes it that much more of a sacrifice to gift it.” Steffen returned to her, shifted to human, and held out his hand for her to dismount.
“What are you thinking?” Tristan asked.
“Please the V?ttir.”
“What’s a V?ttir?” she asked.
“Nature spirits of an area. They can become angry.”
“And something here is,” Sleipnir said. “But not V?ttir.”
“Then let’s at least see if we can win their favor to maybe bless an area with goodwill for us to retrace our steps and leave that anger behind. I’ll sing an old song now and follow you. Break that up and place it where you...where you feel most afraid. Say, a gift for safe retreat.”
“V?ttir are not all that’s out here,” Sleipnir said. “This area is one we always stay clear of.”
“Then why take us through it?” Thorleif asked.
“Not through it. That trail was our idea.” Sleipnir pointed. “But we came too close. Now we must retrace and find an alternative route. We are too close to the border of old magic. The human is getting more and more sick, so we must hurry.”
Thorleif growled.
“Let’s just try this! It takes five minutes, and then maybe we can go that way.” Steffen pointed to the Sleipnir’s original trail, then urged the woman forward and followed with his arm around her shoulders. As he began the song of peace and praise to win goodwill, his voice shook. He barely remembered the words, and fear that he’d forgotten them added to the strain of his voice.
The woman shook harder and shrank a bit. “I don’t like this,” she whispered. “It’s really spooky.”
Steffen agreed wholeheartedly, and it got worse. Another arm joined Steffen’s, and he glanced up at her friend, Kasper, who’d joined them.
The ground groaned beneath them again, but it was not Isbait’s doing this time.
“Over there,” she whispered.
“Place your treasure, then.” Steffen let his arm fall away from her. “And don’t go there armed,” he told Kasper.
Kasper stayed with Steffen, glaring at the spot she neared.
Steffen waited, too, not liking the creepy sensations that seemed to grow stronger and stronger until all the hairs on his body stood.
“We should retreat,” Sleipnir said.
“No,” Thorleif growled. “We try this to create the barrier of goodwill against whatever teases the shadows in the valley.”
“Ahead is an enemy not even V?lsung has the power to meet.”
“What the fuck is that?”
Steffen had half-turned to see Thorleif and the Sleipnir argue, so Kasper’s startled tone made him look at him, then at where the guy was looking. But he saw nothing up ahead. “What’s what?”
“That.” Kasper pointed his knife toward the beginning of a steep hill full of trees to the left of the trail leading south of the valley.
The creepy feeling intensified from there.
“Wait, it’s shaded.” Steffen looked around in the mucky surroundings. “You can see?”
“I can see a fucking zombie staring at us!” Kasper stepped forward, drawing up his shoulders and holding up an arm to wave his friend back to the others.
A zombie? And then it hit Steffen along with a fresh bucket of fear. “Draugr! We’re at a Draugr’s grave?” Steffen grabbed Kasper’s arm. “Back, back! Step back!”
The woman left her chocolate-sacrificing project and ran back to the others. The horses neighed and stepped around, while Sleipnir tried to calm them. The soldiers came up to Steffen before he could retreat, too.
“How do we kill it?” Vestergaard asked.
“You don’t!” Steffen exclaimed. “They’re undead. Unless you can pick a weapon out of their own tomb and use it on them.”
Thorleif came closer, bristling. “Let me understand this...” He stopped and stared toward the tree line. “Wolf sees nothing, but you four do?”
The shading fell.
“Now it’s gone,” Vestergaard said.
Thorleif shaded.
“It’s back!” Kasper said.
“Mm-hmm...” Vestergaard nodded sharply, and the soldiers flexed. It seemed an unconscious reflex. “And it’s closer.”
Steffen kept staring that way, but he saw nothing.
“And there’s more than one.” Kasper pointed to another blank spot.
“The fuck...” Steffen stepped back.
“Don’t you dare run,” Thorleif warned on a growl.
“Run? No. I figured I’d just go ask Sleipnir what they know.” Steffen really didn’t want to be there, but running away hadn’t crossed his mind. Unless he could run away with the rest of them. That seemed an awesome idea at the moment.
“Woman, do you see it?” Thorleif asked.
“No,” she whispered, shivering.
“Run back to your horse then.”
She did.
Steffen followed her. “Draugr?”
“That is possible.” Sleipnir looked around as if they didn’t see the zombies either. “If Draugr resides here, then so does treasure and bones and ill-will.”
“Is there like a border they can’t cross?” Kasper called out.
“No one knows!” Steffen answered. “There’s a tale of walling their tombs, but we don’t know where that is.”
“What does it do?” Thorleif asked.
“They guard something,” Sleipnir said.
“They’re not stopping!” Kasper shouted, his tone rising with a hint of panic.
“Run!” Steffen urged.
“Or fight,” Thorleif said. “Up to you.”
Steffen gaped when the four Rigr decided to follow Thorleif’s idea, and the four of them ran headfirst at...something.
In the shade, something blue hit them. Like a blue dust ball. The four of them got knocked on their asses as if they’d run into an invisible wall, and a blanket of eeriness rushed over the rest of them.
Steffen and Tristan roared and shifted to full feral forms, while the three horses became so spooked that they tossed their riders and ran off. Sleipnir remained exactly where they stood with the injured hiker suspended between them.
The four Rigr got to their feet, disorientated and rubbing at their eyes as if they’d gotten dust in them. Then they turned and stared at each other, squinting, but something seemed off. A scent Steffen didn’t know hung heavily in the air, and it angered his ember to a point where it sparked all over the place. So did Tristan’s. Tristan’s grew aggressive, and he stalked closer to the four humans, growling and snarling.
One drew his weapon and pointed it at another, but Kasper ran in from the sideline and knocked the gun away. It misfired into the ground.
Tristan and Thorleif ran at the humans. Tristan shifted to Vargr as he went, and they disarmed the soldiers, while the hiking Rigr stood his ground, clutching the big knife. Then he tossed it, shaking his head. “No, no! Wrong!” He staggered back, mumbling to himself, clutching his head. “That’s not true! That’s not right!”
Steffen shifted to Vargr form, staring at the weird sight of all four Rigr staggering about, mumbling and arguing with something only they heard. He remembered tales of Draugr using magic to drive people insane. Even cursing them. Not being able to see the undead from lore, Steffen felt exposed and vulnerable, and fear for the others made him stay between them and the unknown threat. He hoped. Where was the threat now? First, it was ahead. Then, on top of them. Where were the Draugr now?
Maybe he should just run? Not without Tristan.
Thunder sounded again in the distance, and the ground shook hard. Blue lightning shot from the ground at the end of the valley, yet half of it seemed to run across the treetops on the hill that Rigr had said the Draugr came from. Roars and hammering hooves came their way, and a human’s battle cry joined as another lightning bolt answered the thunder of Chaos. And there, through that cursed land ahead, Isbait’s fiery body raced toward them, leaving odd ripples in the shadow. With him ran the Alphas of all and Randr on horseback, and for every blue bolt of lightning, massive shadow wolves ran with them with brightly glowing eyes. They seemed to melt with the shading and ran as silhouettes on the trees and rocky slope to the left.
In the shadows over them, a massive swan spread out its wings.
Never before had Steffen heard a bird chirp in shade, so when what sounded like eagles crying out rang loudly in his ears, he jerked and looked around. But he didn’t see any birds that close by.
“Meet up with them!” Thorleif shouted. “Charge into that valley!”
Sk?ll’s shade took over Thorleif’s, and it grew to become the dense shield Steffen had seen during the awakening of Isbait’s J?tun bloodline. The four Rigr still stumbled around, sometimes fighting invisible people. Isbait was the first to reach them, and he grabbed one of the stumbling Rigr as he passed him, turned, and ran off again toward that valley. Other Sleipnir did the same, while others collected the hikers who’d been tossed by the horses before they ran away.
“Follow us!” Sk?ll shouted.
Steffen didn’t need to be told twice, and he shifted back to full feral form, raced to Tristan, and together they followed the running bond through a chaos of blue lightning, screams, roars, thunder, and eagles crying.
The overwhelming sense of fear turned off so suddenly that Steffen felt dizzy and out of breath. The others must have sensed it, too, because the wild run slowed, and the shading fell, leaving it all bright and calm and...still. Except for the woman. She sobbed. Probably from the overwhelming sense of relief.
The sudden sense of safety let Steffen gain a sense of how slowly but steadily the Draugr had raised the level of fear in them, and he could easily see how someone could be driven insane from it had they not escaped the area quickly. What he didn’t know was how long they’d been there.
But the shading had fallen. It seemed...dark, yet not as dark as Sk?ll’s heavy shading. Looking at the sun, it was setting. They’d been intercepted by the wild wolves in the early afternoon. Shit. And they hadn’t spent that long packing up the camp. They’d been there for hours?
“What the hell was that?” Freki exclaimed.
“Draugr, I think.” Steffen turned to look back through the valley. It still seemed creepy.
Sk?ll came over. “The undead treasure watchers?”
“Rigr can see them in shade. We can’t.” Steffen eagerly sought out the soldiers and went to them. They sat on the ground, heaving for air, still looking out of it. Still mumbling, too. It was like they were arguing with someone, and their emotions were running haywire, judging by the scents of them. Steffen smelled the air, walking closer, and they would each flip so fast between fear, despair, bouts of courage, and adrenaline to high fluctuating levels of oxytocin, along with massive crashes and releases of cortisol.
“Whatever caught up with them influenced their minds,” Thorleif said. “Tristan and I disarmed them when one turned his weapon on his own. Their weapons lie in there in that cursed valley.”
“Was it blue?” Randr asked.
“Pale blue, yes.” Tristan looked up at Randr, who slid off his horse and came to them, his green eye fixed on the still-rambling men. “I saw a pale blue light hit them.”
“Me, too,” Steffen said.
“In my youth, there was a tale of a grave mound that only the bravest would dare go near,” Randr said. “All those who thought themselves brave of course went there. Most turned around before they reached it.”
“Did you go tempt it?” Thorleif asked.
“No.” Randr shook his head, looking grim. “I saw nothing to be gained from it. The admiration promised by those who tried to goad others into attempting it was not something I desired. But my childhood friend asked me to come when he wanted their admiration. So I went. That blue lightning? I saw that, too. And it hit him. It wasn’t the lightning, though. It was...that thing. It ran at him and into him. I attacked it.” Tristan smiled at Randr, obviously proud of his father’s actions. “It seemed surprised and stopped to watch me. I attacked again, telling it to leave my friend alone. Then it disappeared, and I went to haul my friend up and carried him home. He was rambling like that, too.”
“Then what?” Sk?ll asked.
“His mother thanked me for bringing her drunk son home, put him to bed, and sent me home with a hunk of freshly smoked bacon. He never brought it up again, and neither did I.” Randr looked at Tristan. “He was the earl I later killed. Whatever attacked him that night changed him. And me. Those dead blue warriors did something, and we were sick for a week with high fevers, mumbling in our sleep. I had such strange nightmares, but I no longer remember the details, only the fear.” Randr looked at Sk?ll. “Isolate the humans and keep them close.”
“One needs a hospital,” Sleipnir said.
Steffen went to look at the man on the suspended platform between the four centaurs. He’d passed out, and sweat made his hair cling to his dirty face. “His fever has risen.”
“Let’s get back to camp!” Sk?ll shouted. “Klaes, race ahead and call in for an emergency pickup of one hiker.”
“Yes, Sk?ll.” Klaes turned and ran off, fast.
His mate, Silas, followed all but ten steps, then stopped and threw out his arms. “I can’t keep up with that!”
“Let’s go.” Sk?ll put out a call, and even Steffen’s tired body warmed for another run. His ember sparked, angry and confused. It burned him, too, so he tried to connect with the running bond. It was difficult to clash with them. At first. Once it clashed with Tristan’s, though, something leveled out.
Was it only humans who were affected by the Draugr? And what did it do?