Chapter 26
RASHA
“Where exactly is home?” I ask Shaw’s handsome brother as he reaches past me to help Shaw up the rocky mountainside.
“Through the Vanheim. I am not going to spoil all the surprises, so you’ll have to use your imagination. But I can assure you the accommodations are nicer than my brother’s little shack,” he scoffs. Shaw attempts to push him over, but his shoulder is still raw, the skin blistered in places.
“You healed him with magic?” I ask another question in hopes of some clarity on what happened.
“Yes,” they both say together.
“When you were more like your brother, could you use magic?” I ask Shaw.
“I could do magic far better than Vidarr,” he retorts, fixing his coat over his blood-stained chest.
“You’re only saying that because you’re trying to impress her,” Vidarr counters.
“I am saying it because it’s true. Though I was never good at shapeshifting, so maybe you could give us a demonstration by turning into an eagle and flying away,” Shaw retorts, and I chuckle at Vidarr’s feigned gasp.
“You have been following us?” I suddenly remember all the times I’ve seen a sleek, black eagle flying overhead.
“When you took the bow from the shrine, you left a small part of the channel open. Today, when you conjured an arrow, you widened the space between realms. Most likely, each time you’ve connected with the items Shaw’s given you, the channel has grown.”
“And what will close it? We cannot have angry spirit creatures running through the mountains.” I look between both the men.
“It will close when I return,” Shaw says.
Turning to Vidarr, I can’t help but ask, “You’re an eagle. Can you fly over the clans to be sure nothing like Fenrir attacked them?”
“I can if that is what you wish.” Vidarr’s quick appeasement makes me feel like I am missing a piece of the puzzle.
“Thank you.” My thoughts revolve around everything that has happened. The channel will close when Shaw returns, but what will he be returning too if there are those who still wish him dead?
I lead the men back to the cabin with Aslaug at my side giving the brothers the chance to talk about the Fenrir and the Bow.
Once we are inside the warm cabin it is easy to excuse myself and go to the bedroom.
Gently closing the door, I set the quiver on the bed and peel off my sweaty clothes in exchange for my favorite sweater.
When I open the bedroom door to return to the kitchen, I hear them teasing each other about the state of Shaw’s cabin. Listening to them squabble about things makes me think of Jorvik. He wouldn’t have healed me or trusted me to take down a beast from another realm.
“Are you alright?” Shaw asks, coming to where I stand in the doorway to rub his hands up my arms until I look at his hazel eyes.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re lurking.”
“Take that off so we can get you cleaned up.” I nudge his good shoulder as I walk around him to find a kettle for clean water.
Shaw undresses from the top down and sits by the fire that Vidarr blasted into the hearth with a wave of his hand. The magic is starting to shock me less and less. Vidarr pulls all sorts of things down from Shaw’s kitchen while I come up beside him to take a clean cloth.
Stifling a giggle, I share, “I did the same thing the first night I stayed here.”
“He’s been alone for far too long, Rasha. I don’t think you know yet what it would mean to him for you to help him get home.” Vidarr’s voice cracks over the last words. His eyes are beautiful now that I am calm enough to see him. In my hesitation to answer, his face softens to a visible ache.
“He isn’t alone now. He has me.”
At that, Vidarr’s smile returns. He helps me carry a tray over to Shaw, who is petting Aslaug by the fire.
“I am so sorry, love. I have nothing to offer you,” Vidarr tells the big cat. If she is displeased, she doesn’t show it, instead she peppers him with affectionate kneading and purring.
“Tonight is a new moon. In the Beaivi Clan, we always offer something, but I think I dropped all the fish.” I chat to keep myself from looking at Vidarr who is grinning at Shaw.
Wringing the cloth out over a bowl of fresh, steaming water, I clean the dried blood off Shaw’s back and notice a shadow of his tattoo beyond the usual border I’ve grown accustomed to.
He leans back to quietly whisper, “We can open the mold and see how the link turned out. That is more than enough for an offering.”
“With your brother?” I ask, holding Shaw’s anxious stare.
“He is more sentimental than most of my family.” He watches as I stroke over the front of his chest and flinches when I trail over the deep fang wounds. Even though Vidarr sped up the healing process, Shaws muscles are still tender and swollen.
“How much longer can you stay?” Shaw asks Vidarr.
“Less than an hour,” he replies. “Are you sure you want me here when she adds a link?”
Shaw stands, and I take the bowl full of red-tinged water away to dump out the back door.
The amulet around my neck passed the threshold of soft pulsing as soon as I conjured an arrow.
Since that moment, I have felt a steady flow of power running through my blood.
A shirtless Shaw calls my name, and I turn to see him placing the clay mold on the kitchen table.
“Rasha, would you like to do the honors?” he asks.
Suddenly a pang of nervousness hits me with the two of them watching.
Vidarr takes a wooden container of salt and carefully pours the tiny grains out to make a triangle in the middle of the table.
Grabbing dried mistletoe and the snow flowers that Shaw picked for me yesterday, he decorates the table as we would for a new moon offering.
“Are you sure I should? I could break it,” I ask, but Shaw puts the pry tool in my hands, urging me on.
Tempering the power simmering through me, I carefully crack the mold open down the middle.
The dry clay breaks apart with ease, and I sweep away chunks from around the center.
Through the dust, the shiny silver metal is unmistakable.
Taking a deep breath, I feel the amulet’s power thrum against my skin, calling to what is familiar.
“Brother, it seems your fate has changed.” Vidarr moves to the other side of the table to give us room.
“For the better?” I take the amulet off my neck. Shaw separates the ends of the chain and lays it flat on the table.
“If you are my fate, Rasha. It is for the better. The link is yours to take and yours to add,” he tells me. I pull the slender oval link out of the clay, dust it off with my fingers, and roll it over, finding it odd there is no space to slide it into the last link available.
“It’s not as smooth as the others.” I look at Shaw for an explanation or a hint of disappointment.
“I can teach you how to make it smooth with time, but nothing is smooth or perfect on the first try. The beauty of the imperfections is that you’ve poured your heart and soul into it.” His words mean more to me than he knows, and my response catches in my throat.
Vidarr presses his hands together and opens them slowly, which creates a current of magic flowing between them over the table. The salt triangle vibrates quietly, and the various plants return to their vibrant green hue.
“My lady, do you want to connect the first link of your bond?” Vidarr asks me. The swirling shadows of colors between his hands grow to cover the entire tabletop.
“You can wait, Rasha,” Shaw murmurs against my neck. The warmth from his shirtless chest encompasses my back. Our pull is unshakeable, growing stronger every day we spend together, and we haven’t even touched one another beyond the surface.
“There is no need to wait. How do I attach it without an opening in the metal?” I ask the men. Vidarr smiles and closes his hands only to open them again, using more magic to light the salt triangle ablaze.
“All you, Shaw. I am simply the witness,” Vidarr says, his lovely, high cheekbones taut with focus.
Shaw takes my hands, bringing us over the purple and red flames that are stoked by Vidarr’s magic. I have the link while he takes the end of the chain, holding it flat in his palm. The flames lick my skin, but I feel no pain.
“In the Vanheim, we pray to the deer goddess who has been driven into darkness. Will you bring her into the light?” Shaw asks, his hazel eyes glowing nearly golden like his brothers.
“To accept the bond is to promise your blood to the god before you, Rasha,” he pauses and slides his hand over my cheek.
“I promise, and I promise to finish the chain so you can go home.”
Taking the link and the end of the chain from Shaw, I hold the pieces over the fire in the center of the triangle and feel the familiar channel opening inside my soul.
Shaw’s hand falls from my face, and he doubles over, keeping his palms firmly planted on the table.
My fingers feel as though they will be crushed by the weight of the magic, but I know my link belongs here.
I know with all my heart that I belong with Shaw.
Closing my eyes, I feel the magic channeled by Vidarr shake, and the flames spread over the table, searching for a more powerful conduit. I conjured the arrow, I almost died in that longboat to find the bow, and now, I can surely bend metal to strengthen this chain.
I hear Shaw grunt through the immense feeling of our souls being stretched and tightened until something pops. He crashes to the ground as my eyes fly open.
Holding up the chain, I look down to my own hands that hum with glorious, golden vibrations zinging up and down my fingers and arms. It’s like a million honey bees are buzzing underneath my skin.
Shaw throws an elbow on the table to hoist himself up, and Vidarr loops an arm under his injured shoulder to bring him to his feet.
“She did it.” Vidarr’s excited whisper is encouraging.