43. Ash-Coated Memories #2
Larissa looked away, biting her lip and gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “Calder will be put on trial.”
“And then?”
“It’s up to Torsten.”
“Lara,” Halla pushed.
“He’ll be executed for his crimes.” Galdr gathered around Larissa’s fingers. She shook them violently as if she could shake off the glow. “Oh, Kings and Queens!”
Halla waited for Larissa’s hands to settle. “You don’t want Calder to die?”
Larissa shook her head. “I don’t want Aeron to die.”
“But isn’t he Calder?”
“I don’t know. If Shiko somehow twisted his mind, I have to wonder if Aeron is still inside of him. Don’t we owe it to him to try and find out?”
Halla knew that we did not refer to her. “What does Darien think?”
Larissa’s expression darkened. “He thinks taking Calder back to Torsten is a mistake. He’s afraid Calder might be right, and Torsten will kill him on sight before he can reveal who he really is or was.” Larissa stopped suddenly, as if realizing her musings had taken a dark turn.
“It’s okay, Lara. I like it better when you talk to me than when you try to hide everything from me.”
Larissa’s mouth twitched up. “You’re not the same little girl you were before, are you?”
Without meaning to, Halla’s fingers traced the scar on the back of her neck. “No, I guess not.”
“I still hate that I missed it.”
Halla’s brow furrowed. “Missed what?”
Larissa tapped the wheel. “Your birthday.”
She laughed. “Really, Lara, we’ve got a lot going on right now, don’t you think?”
“That’s why I care.” Larissa’s voice dropped. “I only forced myself to remember my past because of you. Without you, none of this would have happened. You deserve more.”
“Just don’t die.” Though Halla intended it to be a joke, her words fell flat. Larissa’s prophecy mentioned the cost of a life, and Darien’s did too. What if Kai was right? What if they were driving to their deaths?
Halla reached for her wrist to touch the medallions on her bracelet only to remember the thraell had taken it.
She’d never replaced it. Perhaps it was for the better.
She would start a new one with the rune of the Norn instead.
She thought of praying to Vereandi for protection, but after meeting the goddess, Halla couldn’t bring herself to utter her name.
Though she’d been enthralled in the presence of the goddesses, she’d been terrified too.
There was a reason the AEsir had lived apart from mankind for so long.
Hours passed as Halla drifted in and out of sleep.
Though she wasn’t tired, it felt as though Vereandi was calling her back to Yggdrasil .
The giant tree of ash loomed in her mind, its branches shaking invitingly.
In its roots, another tunnel opened, but it wasn’t the same as before.
Cold air blew through it, coating Halla’s skin in ice.
She woke up shivering, though she was covered in Larissa’s jacket. Her sister spared her a concerned look. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”
“I don’t think so.” Though Halla’s forehead felt normal, the back of her neck felt feverish. It was as though the rune itself emanated heat.
Ahead, Masai’s motorbike kept pace under Anara’s flight pattern, but Larissa was looking at a turn off the main road.
With a turn so sharp it thrust Halla against the door, Larissa directed Helga onto a worn and beaten dirt path.
Halla’s discomfort was forgotten as a trickle of familiarity ran over her skin.
She knew those trees; she knew that road.
With a loud caw, Anara landed on Helga’s hood, cocking her beaded eye in Larissa’s direction.
“Darien will understand,” Larissa said sharply. “We don’t have to be in Safír until tomorrow. I have to do this.”
Anara rustled her wings but flew off all the same. The headlights of Masai’s motorcycle flared in Helga’s side mirrors, but Halla paid him little attention. She soaked in every familiar sight. Her home, their farmhouse, was just down that road and around the bend.
“This isn’t going to be easy, Halla.” Larissa’s voice held a warning. “You can stay with Helga, but there’s something I need to take care of.”
Halla sobered, her breath leaving her. “Onkel?”
After the draugr attack, they’d given their parents a burning burial, but they hadn’t had the time to find and bury Onkel Tucker. His body had been left in the fields to rot, tempting Hel’s denial of entry into the afterworld.
Larissa nodded, gripping the wheel even as she urged Helga forward. “You shouldn’t come. It’s been a few weeks; it won’t be pleasant.”
“I’m coming.” To Halla’s grateful surprise, Larissa didn’t argue even when it was clear she wanted to. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Not treating me like a child.” Halla grabbed her sister’s hand. “Best belated birthday gift you could give me.”
Larissa’s brief smile died entirely as they rounded the bend.
The trees cleared, making way for the sight that lay before them, and Halla’s hope rushed out of her lungs.
The farmhouse she’d been envisioning was gone.
If Halla hadn’t lived there all her life, she would never be able to make sense of the devastation and piles of ashes that lay before her.
Larissa pulled forward until the dirt turned to char under Helga’s tires.
When she cut the engine, the sisters sat staring.
The largest pile of debris sat to their left.
If Halla looked closely, she could see the foundational beams of their farmhouse sticking out of the rubble that surrounded them.
Further off, the barn had collapsed into a pile of crumbling wooden beams. Not even the fields had escaped the fire’s rage.
Their precious berry fields, cultivated for generations, were scorched.
It would be years before the land could be used again.
Tears streamed down Halla’s face, but she didn’t utter a sound.
She would be stronger than last time. She would face this grief.
Ieunn had not cried when she was taken from her beloved apple trees; she could not be broken.
And though Halla would allow herself the tears, she, too, would not break.
Movement from the truck bed shook Helga’s cab, but still the sisters remained.
Footsteps drew their attention to Larissa’s open window where Darien rested his hands on the metal frame. “You’re sure this is a good idea?”
“No.” Larissa shook her head. “But it’s still the right thing to do.”
Anara appeared at his side, her eyes surveying the scene of destruction. “There might not be much left to hold a burial for.”
“Where’s Masai?” Halla asked, noticing his empty motorcycle next to them.
“He agreed to keep watch over Calder,” Darien answered. “You ready for this, kiddo?”
Halla swallowed, unable to answer, but nodded anyway. She turned in surprise as her door opened. Kai extended his hand, helping Halla scramble to the ground. Once steady on her feet, she wiped at her tears as if she could erase the evidence.
Kai’s fingers fidgeted at his sides. “This is your home, isn’t it?”
“What’s left of it.” Her voice broke.
Kai eyed the fresh trails of tears that leaked from the corners of Halla’s eyes. “Why are we here?”
Halla breathed in deep, again holding it until the pain in her chest stopped the flow of tears.
“When we left, we gave my parents a burning burial, but we didn’t have time for my Onkel—” Halla cleared her throat.
“Onkel Tucker. We had to leave him. It wasn’t right. The AEsir requires a proper burial.”
Kai’s eyes scanned his surroundings. “The draugrs did this?”
Anara crossed her arms, having heard Kai’s questions. “On Calder’s orders.”
Kai’s face tightened as he spared a glance toward the back of the truck.
Wiping at her face, Halla moved around Helga’s hood to stand beside Larissa, catching the tail end of her sister’s sentence.
“—I didn’t think this through.” Larissa looked around. “There’s nothing here we can use to mark their graves. Everything’s gone.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Darien touched Larissa’s arm, bringing her attention back to him. “Let’s just see what we’re working with.”
Larissa’s shoulders released the tension they’d held all day. In all of Halla’s memories, real or planted, she’d never seen Larissa so at peace as she was with Darien. Hesitant to interrupt, she hung back, but Darien caught her eye. He nudged Larissa, who motioned Halla forward.
“Are you ready?” Larissa asked.
Halla nodded, resisting the urge to take Larissa’s hand.
They walked through what remained of the farmhouse, Halla’s shoes kicking up the ash scattered around the edges.
With no walls to stop it, nature had already begun to creep back in.
Weeds grew up through the gaps in the ground.
She trod softly on broken boards. Burnt, fluffy insulation poured out from the walls, oddly sparkly in its own way. Her feet sank into mounds of it.
Halla breathed in deep and slow, trying to not gag on the smell.
She wasn’t even sure the smell was real.
The others didn’t seem bothered at all. Perhaps only the memories of that night assailed her nose.
She could just make out the remnants of the TV; some twisted metal pots and pans were scattered on the floor of what used to be the kitchen, but there was something wrong about the size of their home.
Pappa and Mamma’s room had always seemed so big, but Halla passed through, thinking it looked so small.
Anara, Darien, and Kai walked behind the sisters, giving them some measure of respect and privacy, but Halla wished they would walk with them.
At the back side of the crumbling house, Larissa’s steps faltered, and Halla nearly bumped into her.
In the center of their garden, two large scorch marks remained on the ground, but it was the third scorch mark, accompanied by three grave markers, that confused Halla.