Page 86 of Winter Lost

He put his scope to his eye and waited.

11

Mercy

“Wedding?” I said. “You mean Tammy’s wedding?”

“The one scheduled to take place on the winter solstice,” Adam said, which was something that I should have noticed.

Liam gave him a tight smile. “Exactly.”

A marriage in which the very wealthy heir of the family fortune chose to marry a policeman’s daughter sounded very romantic. It was probably the plot of a dozen different romance novels. But marriages had not always been about love.

A marriage was an ancient rite of passage. It was an exchange of vows—a contract, in the fae sense of the word—intended to represent the uniting of bloodlines for the future. As such, a marriage, the right kind of marriage, could be a powerful source of raw magic.

“What is so special about this wedding?” I asked slowly. “Magically speaking.”

I expected the rite to be some sort of method for maintaining power—it might be wealth, of course. The Heddars were very wealthy. Or possibly it was some sort of influence. But my bet was that it was power. All of the fae lost a great deal of magical ability when Underhill closed herself to them, driving some of them to drastic measures.

Liam didn’t speak right away. Finally, he got up from his seat and walked to the window, his back to us as he watched the snow fly outside. “Every hundred and forty-four years, the oldest child of the current generation of what is, in this age, the Heddar family must marry on the shortest day of the year on sacred ground.”

I wondered if it was the Heddar family who received the power or if they were bound by some fae bargain. Liam didn’t seem to be more powerful than Uncle Mike, so I doubted that it was him.

The green man turned to face us. “With such a binding is the beast known as Garmr kept captive.”

That was so far from anything I expected that I just stared stupidly at him.

“Garmr?” asked Adam. “What is that?”

“Wait,” I said. I had been reading every folktale story I could scrounge since the fae had become an unavoidable part of my life. There was a lot of important information sprinkled somewhat carelessly in fairy tales. But there were some sources that had been more carefully tended.

“Ragnarok,” I said, pronouncing it like most Americans would. Then more properly with rolled “r’s” and umlaut “o,” the way Zee said it: “Ragnarök. You believe that this marriage holds fate at bay. By preventing Ragnarök.”

“Indeed,” agreed Liam.

“The end of the world.” I wanted to scoff. I didn’t believe in fate. Didn’t want to believe in fate. But my instincts were standing up and paying attention, telling me that this explanation would account for our adventures thus far. This explanation was big and fantastic enough to include an ancient frost giant who could take the form of a gryphon. Big enough for a storm of epic proportions and a holy place in the wilderness full of supernatural people gathered under one roof.

What in the world had Gary been mixed up in?

To make sure I had this right, I said, “You believe that if we don’t stop the storm so the marriage can take place, Garmr is going to be freed and the world will end.”

Liam gave me a faint smile that held no amusement. “If the wedding participants cannot make it here because of the storm, if the marriage doesn’t take place, Ragnarök will begin.”

“You bring me on such interesting adventures, my love,” said Adam. “What is Garmr?”

My mouth was dry so I had to swallow. I had thought we were here to save my brother, and prevent the dozen or so deaths that a storm like this would bring. The end of the world was a pretty exponential leap in consequence. Not that I believed in Ragnarok, I reminded myself.

“Garmr is the wolf—or dog, or something canid—who guards the gates of Hel—that’s one ‘l,’ not two,” I told Adam, because Liam had made no effort to answer. “According to legend, he breaks free from his chains”—I glanced over at Liam, who shrugged—“or some kind of binding, anyway. Once he is free, he bays or howls or cries out and announces the start of Ragnarok.”

“The end of the world,” Adam said. “Is that real?”

“This”—I gestured out at the storm and waved my hands to encompass the events since my brother showed up—“feels like someone believes this marriage is important to stop.”

Liam said, his voice a near whisper, “I believe.” He turned back to the storm. I couldn’t tell if he was looking for something out there or if he didn’t want us to see his face.

“When Zane Heddar bought this place ten years ago, I was called here to prepare it for this wedding.”

He put his fist against his heart. The wind chose that moment to beat especially hard against the windows.

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