Viking Vow Page 6

  Erik exhaled. “Continue.”

  “Well.” I crossed my arms. “They must have taken whatever the prophesy said and decided it meant they’d achieve greatness elsewhere, possibly at Valkyris’ expense. Or Birna must have thought that, at least, which is why she and Brigga fought about it.”

  “Hmm.” Erik clasped his hands together. “Then I guess you know what we need to do.”

  “Club Brigga over the head and make her tell us everything Birna said that might lead us to her?”

  “That,” Erik agreed. “But first, we find out the precise verbiage of that prophesy. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

  “My first Viking crime. Wait, breaking and entering is a crime here, right?”

  Erik’s eyes rolled skyward. “I told you, I have authorization to access the prophets’ offices.”

  “You also told me prophesies are between the seers and the subjects, and that I’m not supposed to come with you,” I reminded him. “There has to be some privacy violation in there somewhere.”

  “Perhaps.” Erik’s lips shifted downward. “But whatever Birna thinks she heard may well have been enough to turn her into a threat. There’s only one way to figure out what we’re up against.”

  I leaned forward. “So, what’s your plan?”

  Erik glanced down the empty hallway. “Meet me outside the main doors of the academy at midnight. The prophets’ offices should be long deserted by then. We’ll get our information and get out before anyone’s the wiser.”

  I nodded. In a few hours, we’d know why Birna had disappeared. And, hopefully, we’d have a lead on where she’d gone . . . or at least know what she thought she was fated to do.

  God willing, she wasn’t planning to end us all.

  Late that night when stillness blanketed the castle, I tugged my cloak around my shoulders and pushed open the doors that separated the academy wing from the rest of the structure. The hallway was nearly pitch-black as I stepped over the threshold. The only light came from the faint glow of the flameless candles nestled in a wall sconce down the hall. I eased the door closed, crossing my fingers that the gentle click wouldn’t alert anyone to my presence. Then I leaned against the wall and I waited.

  It wasn’t long before the flickering light of a lantern cast a soft glow at the end of the hallway. Erik walked toward me, his face illuminated in the shadows. He marched steadily but silently forward, reaching me in the time it took me to glance behind to make sure we were alone.

  “I don’t think anyone saw me leave,” I whispered.

  “Good.” Erik pulled me in for a light kiss. His minty taste left me slightly lightheaded, and for the briefest moment I considered abandoning our mission in favor of a far more enjoyable adventure. But the worry lines between Erik’s brows reminded me of the danger Valkyris might be facing.

  And we were the only ones who could assess the threat.

  “You ready for this?” I pulled back breathlessly.

  “One thing you should know about me.” Erik’s clear blue eyes twinkled in the candlelight. “I’m never truly ready for anything that threatens our world. But I act anyway.”

  “Because you love Valkyris.” I brushed a blond strand behind his ear.

  “I do.” The lines between his brows softened. “And I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I stood on tiptoe to plant one last kiss on his lips before following him down the corridor. We walked in silence until we reached a utilitarian staircase, one I’d once seen the seamstresses using.

  “The prophets’ offices are up this way.” Erik raised his lantern so it cast shadows against the walls. “Watch your step—they keep the sconces dimmed in this part of the castle at night.”

  I carefully traversed up the staircase. “Guess I finally found the time you Vikings actually slow down.”

  “We do sleep, Saga.” I could practically hear Erik’s eye roll.

  “True,” I conceded. “But you hit the ground running far earlier and harder than anyone I’ve ever known—and I was considered a morning person back home. In fact, it was an early morning workout that landed me here—a six a.m. swim, a run-in with a dagger, and poof. Whole new life. Not that I’m complaining.”

  Erik shook his head. “Take a left at the top of the stairs.”

  I followed his instructions, treading silently down the dark hallway. Most of the doors had been left open, but Erik led us to a closed one at the end of the corridor. Its thick wooden planks boasted intricate ironwork. Erik placed his large hand on the knob and turned, but nothing happened.

  “It’s locked?” I glanced down the hallway. There were no signs of life—that I could detect, anyway.

  “Good thing I have a key.” Erik pulled a metal object from his pocket. It was slightly larger than the keys from my time, and clearly magical—a glowing, golden dust covered its surface.

  “I take it that’s not a regulation model?” I angled my head at the key.

  “Not exactly.” Erik held it up for me to examine. “It has the standard lock-releasing prongs that most of our keys have, but it’s also got an älva enchantment—one that deactivates its functionality in case of theft.”

  “Seriously?” My voice cracked. “How does the key know it’s been stolen?”

  “The älva handlers worked with the makers to code it to specific individuals. This one can only be operated by me, my parents, or the chief visionary of the Order of Prophetic Seers.”

  That was a job title?

  “So that . . . key. It knows if someone other than those four people is using it?”

  “Give it a try.” Erik held up his palm. The key sparkled against his calloused skin.

  “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  “Pick it up. But don’t put it in the door.”

  I eyed the key warily. “What if it chops off my hand, or renders me blind, or does . . . whatever happens to thieves around here?”

  Erik sighed. “Just do it, Saga.”

  “Fine. But you have to reattach my hand after.” I held my breath and gingerly plucked the key from Erik’s palm. The second it was in my possession, its shimmer faded to a rusty bronze. “Whoa.”

  Erik removed the key from where it dangled between my fingertips. “And if you’d tried opening the door, it would have triggered an alarm. Since we’re being stealthy, I’ll take it from here.”

  I watched as Erik placed the again-glittering key into the keyhole. “Are you telling me we almost blew this entire operation?”

  “No.” Erik pushed against the door. “I knew you were too scared about being a thief to take it that far.”

  “Hey,” I protested. “I wasn’t that scared.”

  “Cut off your hand? Blind you?” Erik shoved the key in his pocket. “Jeez, Saga—what kind of barbarians do you take us for?”

  I tiptoed after him into the office. “Just get the prophesy, Halvarsson.”

  “Will do.”

  Erik set his lantern in the center of the room. It gave off just enough light to illuminate a desk covered in neat stacks of parchment, a table surrounded by five chairs, and the thick curtains framing floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “We should probably shut those,” I pointed to the draperies. “In case anyone’s watching from outside.”

  “Good idea.” Erik crossed the room and tugged the fabric closed. Then he returned to the center and pivoted in a slow circle.

  “Where are the prophesies?” I asked. Save for the desk and table, the room was completely sparse.

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Erik’s eyes narrowed as he stared at an empty wall.

  “Wait. You’ve never done this before?”

  “I’ve never needed to.” Erik shifted his gaze to the wall behind me. “Hold on.”

  He marched past me with his arms outstretched. When he was four feet from the edge of the room, he pulled the key from his pocket and waved it in front of his face.

  “Is that how you make secret prophesies
appear?” I asked.

  “I’m hoping so.” He spoke without a hint of irony.

  O-kay . . .

  Nothing happened for a full half-minute. Just when I was starting to think I was dating a crazy person, a flicker of light shot from the key. It bent as it hit the wall, erupting in a cascade of golden glitter. The particles dusted the air like snowfall, highlighting the almost-holographic form of a peculiarly shaped cabinet. Row upon row of narrow drawers appeared, each boasting a copper-colored handle and an inscription that appeared to be a date. The prophets sorted things chronologically. Which meant that whatever we were looking for would be . . .

  Erik dropped to his knees. His large fingers dwarfed the tiny handles, but he managed to open one of the drawers and flip through its contents.

  My heart raced. “Is that it?”

  “No.” Erik slid the drawer closed. “Those prophesies are from my childhood. The more recent ones must be over . . . here.” He tugged on a handle two over. “Much better. When did Brigga say this happened?”

  “Just before I got here. Late last summer.”

  “Which puts us . . .” Erik flipped through what seemed to be thin index cards. Since both the cards and the cabinet glowed, it was hard to discern exactly what was what. “Here.”

  He pulled a card from the drawer and leaned back to examine it. I stepped closer, until I stood just over his shoulder. But the prophesy was written in runes—I couldn’t read a word.

  “What does it say?” I dropped to my knees beside Erik. His rigid shoulders and bulging jaw-vein suggested it wasn’t good. “Erik?”

  “Ære will be yours,” he gritted.

  “Ære?”

  “Honor.” He shook his head. “Ære will be yours, your legacy secured. You will elevate your stations when you align with an outsider.”

  “That’s . . . that’s not that bad,” I said cautiously.

  “No. It’s not.”

  “Then why did Brigga and Birna fight over it?”

  “Because they see the world completely differently.” Erik didn’t take his eyes off the card. “I’m presuming Brigga took the prophesy to mean what I believe is its true interpretation—that she will benefit from working alongside an individual or individuals not native to Valkyris, in a to-be-determined capacity. Given all we’ve explored recently, I’d wager that she will see personal gain in the new Valkyris we’re working to create.”

  “Whereas Birna heard the same words and . . . . what? Decided she needed to work against Valkyris?”

  “Exactly.” Erik studied the ceiling. “Axel rarely spoke of his . . . uh . . . dalliances,” he finished at the same time as I said “booty calls?”

  “Booty calls?” Erik’s brow quirked.

  “Never mind. Continue.”

  “He rarely spoke of his time with any females—none that were inconsequential to him, at any rate. But he did once tell me that Birna’s ambition was too great for her own good. She saw him as a means to accomplish a goal—one he couldn’t quite ascertain.”

  “Where I’m from, we call that a social climber.” I sat on the ground. “Brigga pretty much admitted her sister was exactly that.”

  Erik nodded. “Well, if someone wanting to improve their position heard this prophesy, she wouldn’t interpret it to mean she was meant to work toward the betterment of all. She’d hear that she was meant to go out and work with another tribe at any cost—even if it meant selling secrets that could destroy our home. Which means—”

  “It’s her.” My heart sank. “She’s the one who’s been betraying us—who revealed our location to Bjorn, and advised them on how to divide our forces in the attack on Valkyris East.”

  “Precisely.” Erik grimaced.

  “Poor Brigga,” I whispered. “Her sister’s the spy.”

  Chapter 7

  DESPITE HIS ASSURRANCE THAT he was authorized to be in the prophets’ office, Erik wasted zero time clearing the room. The moment we deduced that Birna was the spy, Erik returned her prophesy to the drawer, waved away whatever magic had illuminated the file cabinet, picked up his lantern, and booked it for the door.

  “Drapes?” I asked. When he nodded, I crossed the room and pulled open the curtains so everything would be just as we’d found it. Then I followed him into the hallway and waited in silence while he locked the door behind us.

  Erik’s shoulders carried more than the usual amount of tension as he held out his hand. I laced my fingers through his and allowed him to lead us down the hallway, past the rows of offices, and toward the utilitarian staircase. But instead of going down, and taking us back toward the entrance to the academy wing, he headed up.

  “The third floor?” My pulse spiked as we cleared the landing and hung a right. “Are we going to your room?”

  “No.” Erik marched determinedly forward. “We’re going to Axel’s.”

  “What? Why?” I coughed.

  “Because Birna was his . . . what did you call it?”

  “Booty call,” I muttered.

  “Right. She was his booty call.”

  My cough morphed to a laugh. “Vikings shouldn’t say booty call. Go back to saying ‘dalliance.’”

  “Fine. She was his dalliance, and he may have some inclination as to where she went. Or a more precise timeline of when she went there.”

  “And what if he doesn’t? Erik, slow down!”

  “Sorry.” Erik shortened his strides. “If he doesn’t know where she is, then I want him overseeing the search. Not from the ground—I need him focused on our conversion mission. But he’s more familiar with the riders than I am, and I want two of our best assigned to scan the region by air. If Birna’s really willing to sell us out, I want her captured.”

  “Alive?” I asked breathlessly.

  “If possible. But if she poses a threat to the retrieval team. . .” Erik’s shoulders rose and fell.

  Oh, God.

  Axel’s room was a few doors down from Erik’s suite. It was on the fjord side of the castle, in the wing occupied by the families who governed Valkyris. Despite his bravado, Axel had never said anything about where he lived—and where he lived suggested he was very important to the tribe. As head of the Airborne Assassins, I supposed it made sense.

  Erik knocked softly on the glossy, wooden door. When nobody answered, he knocked again—harder, this time.

  “Andersson,” he barked. “Get up.”

  Moments later, Axel’s tousled head appeared through a slight gap. “What?”

  “We need to talk.” Erik pushed the door the rest of the way open, muscling past Axel and tugging me after him.

  “Sorry,” I mouthed as my shoulder crashed into Axel’s bare chest. With my free hand, I quickly reached up to pat the impact site, only to find thick pectorals resting beneath warm, seemingly uninjured flesh. Apparently, the assassin slept shirtless.

  “What are you doing here? And why’s Saga with you?” Axel raked his fingers through his disheveled locks. After activating the flameless candles near the entry, he closed the door and crossed the room in long strides. When he stood in front of his rumpled bed, he furrowed his brow and stared at Erik. “What in Odin’s name is so important you had to discuss it in the middle of the night?”

  “Not what, who,” Erik corrected. “It’s Birna.”

  The name made Axel’s shoulders go rigid. “What’s she done?”

  “Most likely sold Valkyris’ secrets and joined forces with Bjorn to destroy us.” Erik released my hand and crossed his arms. “We think she’s the spy.”

  “Oh, gods.” Axel dropped onto the edge of his bed. “I thought that honor belonged to your brother. No offense.”

  “I suspected Raynor as well. His views are so averse to everything the rest of us believe in. And he’s been so openly hostile to our parents ever since . . .” Erik looked down, and I knew he was thinking about his sister. He’d confided that her death had driven a wedge between Raynor and the rest of the family, and I knew a part of him missed the relations
hip he and his brother had once shared.

  “Has anyone seen Raynor recently?” I asked. He may well have been an accessory to Birna’s treason—or the driving force behind it.

  “No,” Erik said grimly. “He left weeks ago to recruit more members—at least, that’s what he told us. Do you think he’s involved with Birna’s betrayal?”

  “I wouldn’t rule out the possibility.”

  Axel cradled his head in his hands. “I knew Birna was crazy, but I had no idea she’d do something this bad.”

  I glanced up at Erik. “Do you know where she might be now? Or when she might have left the island?”

  “I haven’t seen her since . . .” Axel turned his head so his gaze met mine. “Since that first night with you and Helene in the dining hall.”

  “The night you blew her off?” I glanced around Axel’s room, looking for a place to sit. It was a similar setup to mine, with the table under the window and the seating area opposite the bed. But even in the candlelight, I could tell a guy lived here. There were few throw pillows, a dark color scheme, and the telltale pile of dirty laundry stuffed into a corner.

  “The night I blew her off.” Axel sighed. “You think that’s when she . . . wait, someone sold out our location before that night. We’d already executed the intruders, hadn’t we?”

  “Ja. Which may have been the trigger that sent her running.”

  “Either way.” I chose one of the chairs at the table, and lowered myself into it. Erik followed, sitting with his back to the window. “We need to find her before she does any more damage.”

  “If she’s working with Bjorn, we’re in trouble.” Axel folded his hands together. “My sources say they’ve acquired a dark magic wielder. If they have black magic and an inside track to our location and weaknesses, things could get very bad, very fast.”

  “Skit,” Erik swore. “When did they get a dark mage?”

  Also, there’s such a thing as a dark mage?

  “Not sure. I only just heard about it.” Axel stared out the window. “Obviously we need to track her.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Erik said. “You know the riders better than I do. I want two of our finest on this—I’d send more, but with you and I leaving in a few days, we can’t afford to be down any more dragons.”