Page 35 of Soothsayer

“Touched…what do you mean?”

“Touched.” Sören pressed his fingertips to the center of his forehead. “Touched by a god and changed because of it. Or inspired to prophecy, like you. Or even cursed. Why not assume one of those?”

Oh man, tricky. Especially for someone who longed to be a devotee of the scientific method but didn’t have the stomach to lie to myself like that.

I took the time to think about it and give him a decent answer. “People in America—okay, I don’t know how it is in Iceland, but most people in America don’t believe in that kind of direct connection between gods and humans. Or if they do, it’s in a very strictly religious context, not just something that can happen to anyone. People who claim otherwise tend to be labeled mentally ill.” Like my mother, back when I was taken away from her the first time.

“But what about those who are genuinely possessed, like Sören? Or those who truly are seers?”

“We lie about it,” I said wryly. “We lie our asses off or we call it luck or we hang out with people who are like us and understand these things. That’s one of the reasons I rely on Marisol and—” I stopped, not wanting to bring them into the conversation unless I had to. It was one thing to work with others. It wastotally different to expose them to unnecessary risk just because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Why don’t you use your ability to garner power?” Sören asked. “It would be easy, wouldn’t it? You areframsýnir; you look into the future. This should enrich you.”

“Just because Icando something, doesn’t mean it’s the right thing for every occasion.” Vegas had taught me that.

“Ah.” Sören sounded knowing. “This is related to last night. You handled that policeman, but you were unhappy afterward.”

“Yeah.”

“This quest would be much easier on you if you were properly motivated, like Egilsson.”

Nowthiswas an opportunity I wasn’t going to pass up. “Tell me about that,” I said, turning the radio down some. Getting a better handle on my enemy trumped NPR. “Why did Ólafur Egilsson make a deal with you in the first place? There’s a geas on him—it’s like a curse, isn’t it? What are your terms for curing him?”

“Something like a curse,” he agreed. “Very well, I will tell you. He knows about your abilities, so it’s only fair that you know about his as well. Ólafur’s family line is afflicted with a geas of might and insanity. Long ago, when the gods traveled the world, Thor came to the home of Ólafur’s ancestor. He only asked to stay the night, but the ancestor refused to allow him to rest there unless Thor could defeat him in a wrestling match. He was a very stupid man,” Sören said reflectively, “but very strong.”

“Of course Thor defeated him and then told him that, as punishment for his pride and ignorance, the ancestor’s strength of body would slowly overwhelm his mind. The more he used his might, the less control he would have over it, until one day he would lose himself altogether. Thor left, and the ancestor didn’t think much of his threat, but the next time he got into anargument with someone, his rage overcame him. When he came back to himself, he realized he had killed the man.”

I’d seen as much in Ólafur’s eyes. “This is some sort of berserker geas, right?”

“Yes, exactly. It doesn’t begin to affect those of the blood until they start to quicken to adulthood. The longer they live, the stronger they become, but the easier it is for their bodies to get the better of their minds. They have tried to break the curse for centuries to no avail.” Sören made a little face. “As if anyone other than a god can remove another god’s curse.”

“Then I don’t understand,” I said. “How canyoubreak the curse? You aren’t a god.”

“Not at all.” Sören sounded almost affronted. “Gods wax and wane with the passage of time. I am spirit. I am land. As long as my land exists, so do I. I haven’t broken the curse, I’ve merely…” He searched for the word for a moment. “Absorbed it. Like I did with your wound.”

“You’re holding back their familial madness?”

“I am. And it isn’t easy,” he added with a frown. “The geas is a strong one. That’s why I needed one of Ólafur Egilsson’s bloodline to strengthen me so I could contain it. The fact that I get many of the things I want out of being one with Sören is just another sign of Ólafur’s cleverness in making this deal. He is much smarter than his ancestor was. I can see why he doesn’t want to give up his mind.”

“I guess I can too.” Ólafur Egilsson was a conniving motherfucker, but he’d really planned this shit out. Put into context, I was a wrench in the gears that he wasn’t going to tolerate. It made my spine prickle with paranoia just thinking about it.

“I protect Ólafur, and his remaining sons, in exchange for the freedoms I told you about,” Sören continued on blithely. “Theyoungest is his sacrifice, and the eldest is his second. They are united in their desire to see the family line remain whole.”

There was a term I hadn’t heard before. “Second? What’s a second?”

“The second has the power to speak for the primary supplicant if he becomes incapacitated, and to offer counsel during negotiations. If Ólafur lost his reason, his son Jakob would step into his position.” Sören shrugged. “It was a wise precaution, but not a necessary one. Your fight for me won’t be compromised for lacking a second of your own. It didn’t help Ólafur. He took his son’s sacrifice for granted, without caring about the love behind Sören’s offering. That offends me. That’s why I’m allowing you to make your play for me.”

Sören smiled. “If you win, you will understand what I am and I will have your respect and fear. If he wins, he will see that he cannot rely on my patience and humility to keep me in line. I am one with his son, but I amnothis son.”

“Very clearly.” Fuck, I could barely speak past the sudden dryness of my throat. “If—if Sören hadn’t offered himself, what was Ólafur’s next play? How would he have gotten another son to go along with this?”

“Ólafur Egilsson has four children, all males. Two of them have married and produced offspring of their own. He kept the truth from them for a long time. Had Sören not given himself to me, Ólafur would likely have leveraged the future of his grandchildren as a means of getting another son to offer himself as a sacrifice. They are loving parents, from what little I’ve observed.” When I glanced over at him, Sören’s eyes had gone that misty purple color again. “He is determined to get what he wants. I hope you are equally determined, Cillian Kelly.”

Yeah, I hoped I was too.

Chapter Nineteen

We reached St. Louis by early afternoon, and it wasn’t hard to find Six Flags. Just look for the enormous roller coasters, which I expected I’d be spending some time on. Again, not something I’d done since Vegas. Sören was a bad influence.

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