45. Brothers to the Bitter End
Brothers to the Bitter End
Halla
Halla crossed her arms so tightly, it threatened to cut off circulation to her hands.
Anger boiled within her chest. If she had galdr like Larissa, power would radiate from her palms, but she was Halla—just Halla.
With no galdr , only her frown and furrowed brows could adequately convey her frustration.
It was bad enough that Larissa had asked her to stay behind. It was even worse that Kai had agreed with Larissa. When she looked to Anara for support, Anara had deferred to Larissa. Even Darien had smiled at her, but said, “Sorry, kiddo.”
So she stood on the porch at sunrise, torn between wanting to hug her sister goodbye and punch her for leaving her behind as the others readied Helga for their departure.
As if reading her thoughts, Larissa sighed from her place at the bottom of the porch steps. “Please don’t be angry at me. I just want to keep you safe. The last time you went into a city, I lost you.”
It was the waver in Larissa’s voice that softened Halla’s posture.
Tears threatened her eyes as helplessness and acceptance warred within her.
She had no galdr ; she was a liability. For what felt like the hundredth time, Halla wished she’d been born special like everyone else.
At her side, she noticed Kai risking a glance, likely checking if Halla was still angry at him.
At least he was just as ordinary as she was.
Halla rushed to embrace Larissa. “I know.” She buried her face in her sister’s shoulders when usually she would reach only to her chest. She’d grown in the last several weeks, she realized. “Just be safe, and don’t make me wait too long.”
Larissa’s arms tightened around her. “I’ll come back to get you as soon as I can.”
Halla squeezed harder, her thoughts turning to prayers. The image of the red-headed child goddess flashed before her mind. There had been a kinship between Halla and Vereandi, Halla was sure of it.
Please, Vereandi, keep my sister safe.
Halla could have sworn the wind picked up at her thoughts, lifting the short strands of hair around her face. When Larissa released her, Halla knew it was time. Her hands fell uselessly to her sides. Kai leaned his shoulder into hers.
With deliberate movements, Larissa turned, crossing the dirt road and throwing open Helga’s tailgate.
Anara and Masai already waited in the cab.
Darien had convinced the Smaragdian it would be safer for them all to travel together.
Masai eyed his motorcycle unhappily as he watched Darien say his goodbyes to Aagen.
Halla leaned against the porch railing, listening to their conversation without bothering to pretend otherwise.
“You’ll be safe, son?” Aagen asked.
Darien ran his fingers through his hair, the sapphire ring throwing the sun’s beams around the drive. “You know, everyone keeps asking me that. You’d think I had a death wish or something.”
“I know the Norn have told you more than you’ve told me.
You’ve always related to the heroes in the stories, but heroes do stupid things sometimes.
” Aagen twisted his beard, leaning on his good leg.
He thumped one hand on Darien’s shoulder.
“Don’t be a hero. Come back, and tell me more of your stories. ”
Darien mimicked the gesture, squeezing Aagen’s shoulder.
“I’ll do that, Aagen. I promise.” Reaching into his pocket, Darien pulled out a small violet vial.
“Masai says to administer one drop every hour to make it last longer. It will keep Calder quiet and complacent but awake, but make sure he stays bound and blindfolded just in case. Three drops will knock him out cold if necessary. I’ll send someone back to collect him once I know what’s happening in the city. ”
Aagen’s large hand swallowed the bottle; with the other, he patted the gun at his side. “I’ll keep him under control, and I’ll keep the little ones busy too. Don’t you worry.”
Halla would’ve felt offended at the description if not for how much Aagen reminded her of Tucker.
With a hand raised goodbye in Halla’s direction, Darien walked away, joining the others in Helga.
Halla leaned over the railing, staring at the weeds that grew up along the wooden beams of the farmhouse.
If she closed her eyes, it smelled like home. When she looked up, Helga was gone.
“It’s Halla, right?”
Aagen stood before her. The kindness in his eyes soothed the sting of being left behind. “Yes.”
He grabbed two of the buckets that lay on the porch, holding them out to Halla and Kai. “Anyone feel like apple picking?”
Halla nearly said no, almost reassured Aagen that she did not need to be “kept busy,” but the sudden normalcy of the fields called to her like an old friend.
“What about Calder?” she asked.
Aagen ignored Kai’s anxious glance toward the cellar doors that had been secured with an iron rod through the handles. “Those doors can only be unlocked from the outside, and they gave him a dose before they left. We won’t need to check on him for another hour.”
The call of the open blue sky beckoned Halla, louder than her uncertainty. “Sounds good to me.”
Kai and Halla followed Aagen out into the orchards.
The buzz of the bees mixed with the sweet scent of the soil relaxed Halla’s tensed muscles.
They didn’t have to go far until Aagen brought them to the youngest of the apple trees.
They stood only a few feet taller than Halla, and the apples were small enough to fit within the palm of her hand.
She reached and twisted. The apple’s smooth surface rubbed against her skin.
She turned to Kai, plopping the apple in his hand. “Consider this my repayment for the apple in the barracks.”
A smile teased Kai’s lips but didn’t reach his eyes. “I always wanted to see where these came from.”
“You’ve never seen an orchard before?” Halla asked, then clamped her mouth shut. Of course he hadn’t.
“Diamant is primarily ice and snow, Halla.” There was mild amusement in his voice.
“Diamant, huh?” Aagen asked as his nimble fingers plucked at the apples on the highest branches. At Halla and Kai’s tense postures, Aagen softened his voice. “Nothing wrong with being from Diamant. We are more than our heritage. After all, look at Calder, and he supposedly came from Safír.”
Halla’s grin stretched across her face. She glanced at Kai, surprised to see that he looked rather sick to his stomach. Dark circles hung under his eyes.
“Are you feeling okay, Kai?” she asked.
“You don’t look good, lad. Perhaps you should go lie down.” Aagen’s commanding voice was hard to disobey.
“Probably should. I didn’t sleep well.” Kai set his bucket on the ground, though he kept Halla’s apple in his hand. As he stood up, his eyes caught Halla’s, revealing a raw depth she hadn’t seen before. “Thanks for the apple, Halla.”
She watched him walk back toward the farmhouse, then out of sight. She yanked the next apple from the tree with more force than necessary. “I don’t understand him.”
“He’s haunted by something, that’s for sure,” Aagen agreed. “You can nearly see the mara surrounding him.”
“What do you mean? Mara come at night.”
“They reveal themselves at night, but those who are truly haunted carry their mara with them wherever they go.”
Halla set the apple into her bucket. “I didn’t know that.”
“Just stick by him. The best known cure for mara is to wrap the victim in the bonds of those around them. And he’s clearly tied to you.”
Halla’s nose twinged with heat. “What?”
Aagen’s deft hands picked the apples, holding three or four in his palm at a time. “Haven’t you ever heard that every person is only a string in our grand universe?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Our relationships with others cause our strings to intertwine and bind. Once two or more strings are truly tied together, they cannot be undone. That’s why the mara fear the bonds between souls; not even their nightmares can break such bonds.”
“I’m not bonded with Kai,” Halla squealed.
Aagen chuckled. “Bonds take all shapes and hold all different meanings. Darien’s bonding to Larissa is nothing like his bond to Anara or even to you, but I can see them all just the same.”
We made our decision based on the ties within the tapestry of life.
Vereandi’s voice replayed in Halla’s mind, and she gasped. “The Norn said something similar. Vereandi said that some bindings can even cross the border between life and death.”
“I believe that.” Aagen’s eyes softened. “Even though she’s been gone for years now, I still feel the thread tying me to my wife. It’s as taut between us as it ever was when she was alive. One day, I’ll meet her again, and our tapestry will continue.”
“Do you think she still feels your bond? Wherever she is?”
“I know she does.”
“Can you really feel it?”
Aagen maneuvered the apples in his palms. “It’s as tangible as these apples; you only have to let yourself feel it.”
Halla looked at her hands, remembering the threads that had wound themselves around her wrists in the Norn’s vision, but she saw nothing.
Her mind traveled, searching for the ties that bound her to her parents.
She closed her eyes, determined to feel the same strings that Aagen seemed to experience so easily, but after a while, all she felt was silly. Still, it was a lovely thought.
She let her head tip back, soaking the sun that filtered through the leaves and kissed her face.
The plop , plop , plop of apples landing in the bucket created a steady rhythm along with the rustling leaves.
The ends of her hair tickled her ears in the breeze.
There was a shift in the air around her, and the sudden brush of thread against her palms.