Chapter 16 Soothing Rain
sixteen
Soothing Rain
Thori
He walked through the swamp along a treacherous path, his view of the gloomy landscape obscured by thick fog.
It felt like he’d spend an eternity out here.
Wandering.
Lost.
A shudder ran through his body, the cold that crept up from the mire landscape chilling him to the bone.
Where was he headed? He needed to be somewhere, but he had no idea how to find his destination.
A splashing sound made Thori whirl around. But there was nothing but billowing fog.
Taking a few more steps, Thori stumbled.
Sudden pain flared through his chest, and he barely managed to stay upright.
Ow.
Looking down on his chest, he found a festering blotch of seier clinging to his skin, not unlike an infected wound.
It hurt.
The splashing continued.
Something huge moved through the fog, not unlike a longship cutting through the water.
Reaching for a weapon on his belt, Thori found he was unarmed.
He took a couple more uncertain steps.
The sound occurred again. It seemed to circle him like a pack of wolves closing in on their prey.
“Who’s there?”
No answer. Only the unnerving vastness of gray fog and dark moor.
Was there still a pathway to follow?
He couldn’t see it anymore.
Thori reached for his thunder, but he couldn’t get a grip on it.
Only weak sparks danced across his fingertips before dying out completely.
What was happening to him?
“You’ve been poisoned.”
Spinning around, he nearly lost his footing on the slippery ground.
She was almost invisible in the mist, her bluish-white scales blending into the background, but the ice-blue eyes shining in her gigantic face were unmistakable.
He was looking at Jokull, Njord’s dreadful ice-dragon.
“Am I dead?”
It was the only reasonable explanation. He had killed Jokull years ago during that fateful raid his father had ordered.
“No, little one.” Her voice was full of sympathy he didn’t deserve. “Don’t worry. He won’t let you die.”
He?
“I’m not allowed to bring you all the way, but I can accompany you to the threshold.”
Her words were confusing and illogical. This whole strange dreamland didn’t make any sense.
“This is the land between the realms, Thori of the thunder. You’ve passed through many times when you sailed the hron-rād, traveling from one world to another.”
“But—how did I get here?”
She bared her teeth in a dragonish smile.
“Svanhild. She’s still trying to feed off your power. But we’ll thwart her plan. Come.”
“What in Hel’s name am I supposed to do?” Thori growled, exhausted and therefore angry. “There is nothing around us but moor and fog!”
Her rumbling laughter echoed over the bog, putting Thori even more on edge.
“Climb onto my back. Njord is waiting for you.”
Was she serious?
He’d met Njord, hadn’t he? Disguised as Norrin Stormtamer, he’d bought Thori as a thrall.
Surely he wanted Thori alive so he could get his revenge, and that meant Thori would have a chance to escape. But perhaps the most honorable thing to do would be to grant him his retribution. The raid had been a mistake that Thori didn’t want to dwell on.
“Now don’t delay. I won’t bite.”
A wave of regret washed over Thori. He’d set out to do the Allfather’s bidding, to rid the Nine Worlds of a greater threat as he’d done so many times before. He hadn’t known Jokull would be there. He hadn’t known she’d been a…person.
But there was no use dwelling on the faults of his past.
The dragoness’ scales were slippery, so he clambered onto her back less than gracefully. But he managed.
“Are you seated securely?”
“Yes.”
“Then hold on tightly. I want to show you something.”
Before Thori could respond, she took flight, dashing along close above the ground.
He clung to the ridges protecting her neck, and although he was tired and in pain, he couldn’t help but enjoy the flight.
Soon she climbed higher, and the fog lifted.
The moor shrank underneath them and merged into the endless expanse of the open sea.
The white of the sea ice shimmered on the horizon.
She flew toward a coast far to the north, and when a huge glacier and the dark mountains surrounding it came into view, Thori almost slipped off her back.
He was looking at Asgard. The desolate mountains up north. Uninhabited but for a few hermits and the odd mountain giant.
“Why are we here?” Thori shouted over the rushing of the wind.
“There isn’t much time left. Can you see the mouth of that cave over there?”
The glacier was glimmering below them now, and she was flying higher towards the black mountains. Thori could make out what might be a cave, a gloomy opening against the dark rocks.
“Yes, I see it! But why are we here? Why are you showing me this?”
Something wasn’t right. The flapping of her wings became more laboured, and dusk was gathering quickly on the horizon.
“Jokull?”
“We might not see each other again in this life, Thori Odinsson. I want you to remember that cave, and if you shall ever feel the need to repay your debt to Njord, then you can bring him what lies hidden in there.”
“He’s my enemy! He had the audacity to enthrall me! I’d never—”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he had the feeling that he was falling, and fast.
Yelping, he twisted, his body trying to brace itself for the inevitable impact.
“Shh, I’ve got you.”
No impact.
Though his vision was once again obscured by fog, the dreadful feeling of free fall had subsided. Thori groaned. There were arms around his chest, a steadying presence behind him, holding him upright, keeping him safe.
“What?”
He could barely speak, his voice failing him. The dragoness was gone, as was the coldness of the vision. Sweat was gathering at his temples now, and a humid warmth surrounded him.
“It’s okay. It was nothing but a bad dream.”
The voice was familiar, and by now it felt almost soothing.
“Njord?”
He found himself submerged in a large tub someone had set up inside a sweating hut.
The hut filled with steam from the warm stones, and the water was perfect for soothing his aches.
A deep sigh moved the broad chest he was leaning against. Gods, Njord had climbed into the bath with him, keeping him afloat.
“So, you’ve seen through my disguise, huh?” Njord’s voice was soft and puzzled, as if he couldn’t quite believe Thori had managed to figure out his spell. “Very impressive for someone who isn’t even a vala. How are you feeling?”
Thori leaned his head more comfortably against Njord’s shoulder, too exhausted to worry about the inappropriateness of accepting cuddles from an enemy, and smug about the fact that he was able to surprise Njord.
“—’m tired.”
Gently, Njord ran a cloth across Thori’s body, whispering incantations. Only now did Thori realize that the water was infused with herbs; the fresh smell calming to his frayed senses.
“You’re going to feel better soon.”
Washing away the last remnants of the oil Svanhild had used, Njord snapped the threads of her seier one by one. Thori could feel it; the relief making him lightheaded.
“I’ve seen her,” Thori mumbled, and Njord’s hand stilled where it was splayed against Thori’s abdomen. It was the exact place the festering seier had clung to him during the vision.
“Who?”
“Jokull, she—”
Njord’s hand shot up and closed around his throat in an instant.
“Do not talk about her. I forbid you to speak her name!”
“But—”
“No. If you want to live, then you will obey me. You will call me Norrin—no, better, you will call me master, and you won’t tell anyone who I really am.”
Gripping Njord’s wrist on instinct, angry sparks arose from Thori’s fingertips. They connected with Njord’s skin with a satisfying sizzling sound.
“Ouch!”
Njord let go of him, and Thori turned around, scrambling backward until his back touched the other end of the tub. His triumph was short-lived as a wave of dizziness hit him. Hel, he wouldn’t be able to procure another harmless spark like this without passing out in the process.
“Sorry,” Thori yelped. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”
“Didn’t you?”
Njord’s gaze was stormy, an angry sparkle shimmering in the depths of his gray eyes. And he had every reason to be angry with Thori, didn’t he?
“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry…master.”
Thori’s vision swam. He shouldn’t address Njord with such reverence, yet it felt natural to submit.
It calmed him more than he’d like to admit, and he could practically feel Njord’s anger abating at his words.
Overcome with an immense feeling of relief, Thori swayed forward.
Njord caught him, easing him down against his chest.
“What am I supposed to do with you, Odinsson?”
Njord sounded in equal measure frustrated and astonished, and Thori didn’t have an answer for him. Breathing in Njord’s scent, he felt his eyes starting to droop.
“We won’t speak of the past for now, yes?”
“Yes, master.”
He was deceiving Njord, Thori told himself.
He would lull him into a false sense of safety by playing the docile thrall, so that once his time came, he could crush his enemy.
Yes, that was exactly what a son of Odin would do.
Relaxing some more in Njord’s embrace, Thori relished the feeling of warmth surrounding him.
After a few seconds, Njord resumed pouring water over his back, gently removing what was left of Svanhild’s oily concoction. Njord hummed under his breath.
“So, you can be good if you want to.”
His words were honeyed, almost like praise. Thori liked it.
“Am I allowed to talk about the future?”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Svanhild, she—”
“You no longer need to worry about her,” Njord interrupted him.
Thori felt it was best not to push the matter.
He would anger Njord again after just calming him down.
The last thing he wanted was to anger him again.
And hadn’t it been his clever plan only seconds ago to play the obedient thrall for now?
Yes, he would do the sensible thing and keep his mouth shut.
“She’s dangerous,” Thori blurted. “I underestimated her, which was stupid, and you’re probably wiser than I am, but—”
So much for keeping his thoughts to himself.
But damn, it was hard not to voice them when his head was spinning, and he was worried not for himself, but for Andora and the other thralls from her village.
And maybe, just a tiny bit, for Njord, who had saved him from her seier despite their enmity and who was playing a dangerous game by deceiving Svanhild.
A game whose purpose Thori did not quite understand.
Njord chuckled, and Thori could feel the deep rumble of his laughter reverberating in his chest.
“So she scared you, huh?”
“Nonsense.”
“It’s wise to be afraid of her.” Njord’s hand trailed gently down his spine. “But I promised you I’d protect you, and I stand by my word.”
“I wasn’t asking for your protection,” Thori mumbled. Njord’s teasing should incense him, but he couldn’t muster the energy for anger any longer. He was too tired, the warmth of the bath too comfortable, and Njord’s touch too soothing.
“Whether you want it or not, you have my protection,” Njord grumbled.
And distantly, Thori wondered why Njord was so insistently pointing this out, why he even cared. He could feel the hold of Svanhild’s seier slipping with every second, leaving him exhausted but not as drained as before when he’d felt as if he was bleeding out.
“Does your back still hurt?”
“The oil stung, but it’s better now.”
Thori yawned, curling up in his spot more comfortably. He could stay here, just resting for a while.
“Good.”
By the way Njord moved, Thori could tell that he wanted to leave now. Groggily, he lifted his head. Thori had lost track of time since he’d woken in Njord’s tent this morning, but it probably wasn’t even midday. Njord had talked about breaking camp. Maybe he wanted Thori to pack his things?
“Can you stand up for me?” Njord asked, his breath tickling the top of Thori’s head.
“Sure.”
Thori rose on unsteady feet, and Njord moved with him to support him as he swayed.
“Easy. Did I say to stand immediately?”
“No?”
Dizziness clouded Thori’s vision. Maybe standing up hadn’t been such a brilliant idea.
Njord wrapped an arm around his waist, and Thori was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were both naked.
Rivulets of water dripped down Njord’s broad chest, and Thori was struck by the urge to trail them with his fingers.
“You’ll have to learn to listen to me,” Njord said softly.
Absently, Thori plucked a herb leaf from Njord’s hair.
“Are we breaking camp now?” Thori asked.
“You’re not doing anything. Lean on me. We’re stepping out of the tub now.”
“I don’t need to—”
Njord almost lifted him out of the tub, and Thori clung to his shoulders with a surprised squeal.
“You’re still not well.” Njord took a towel and wrapped it around Thori’s shoulders.
He was right. Thori was so tired. But he wouldn’t show Njord any more weakness than he’d already seen. What was he supposed to tell him?
Njord’s hand curled around Thori’s chin, tilting his face up.
“You look as if you’re about to faint.”
“I’m a god,” Thori said petulantly. “I won’t faint.”
Although he was dizzy, feeling weird.
“Njord?” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask, but the steaming hut started spinning around him. “I think I’m going to—”