Page 22 of Rune

I set my mouth in a firm line. The number of weapons I brought was not something I was willing to compromise on.

His voice came rougher, and he reminded me less of my grandfather now. “How many?”

I stepped onto the chariot to make it clear I planned to go exactly as I was. “If you think about how many you equipped me with from that glorious dresser I found inside, it’s a relatively small number. Hardly note-worthy.”

“Indulge me anyway.”

He wasn’t wavering. I relented. “Including the axe? Six.”

He let out a low whistle. “Goodness, child. You act as if we all plan to murder you. I already told you, we are not savages.”

“From all the stories I was told growing up, that’s exactly what you are. Did you not kill a man once for forgetting to give you thanks after you blessed him?”

His bright eyes squinted before widening. “I’d forgotten that.” Balder tilted his head, then stepped onto the chariot next to me. He ushered the horses forward. In a whispering tone he said, “Perhaps we are savages after all.”

The chariot moved, but smoother than it ought to. The mountainside was a rocky one, and we should be struggling to keep our grip, but instead it felt as if we were gliding over water. I looked down.

The chariot did not touch the ground, it hovered.

I swallowed. It was getting harder to doubt we were in Asgard.

Just as before, lampposts burst to life as we passed, keeping our way lit as we were carried through the night, where trees cast crooked shadows and the orange flame made the chariot sparkle beneath us. Instinctively, I scoured through the trees for hidden beasts, before remembering where I was. I likely had much more to fear from the man beside me than from anything hiding in the trees.

Just as I suspected, the horses guided us straight north. To the house of Odin.

If I wasn’t convinced before that I was in Asgard, I was now. The horses pulled us between an iron gate, our wheels settling down to meet smooth stone pavement, winding around a stone fountain set with a sculpture of two beings—one of them bearing remarkable similarities to Frigg.

I stared at the other face.That must be Odin.

Though only made of stone, it still awed me. All I could think was how wrong we’d gotten his features in Danmark. We’d depicted him as strong and distant, a fearsome being with the might of the world in hishand. But this being here, he was turned inward toward his wife like she was the only thing that mattered, and stared at her the way we’d always stared at our altars for him.

The chariot came to a stop below a wide, white stairwell lined with silver flame that lit up the night. Beyond that were the looming double doors, then I’d be inside his home. It felt wrong to be even here in his courtyard, so close to Odin. He’d take one look at me and know I didn’t have a drop of deity in my blood, and I’d be tossed from Asgard.

Keep to the back, I instructed myself. Try the food, discover how to leave, and keep your head down.

Keeping our head down wasn’t the Viking way, but I’d be a fool to come at this from any other angle.

Balder stepped down first, and offered me his hand. “The others are eager to meet you. Frigg can’t stop talking about how beautiful her granddaughter is.”

“I’m humbled by her praise,” I said, and he had no idea how true that was. For the first time, the praise came to me alone. Not to me and all my sisters. Not to Tova alone. Frigg, wife of Odin, praised me. I marked that in the column of wonderful stories I’d bring home when I left, then placed my hand in Balder’s as he led me up the stairwell. Black iron sconces hung at either side of the doors, casting their light over onyx sculptures of two wolves, one on either side, standing at attention. One was crouched in hunting position, while the other sat back and stared forward, its tail wrapped around its feet. Their eyes burned white, and the statues were so lifelike, I had no trouble envisioning them coming to life and snapping at my heels.

Similarly, two onyx knockers were placed on the doors—resembling two large raven heads. Odin’s two spies who watch the world for him, delivering messages and secrets his enemies would prefer tokeep unspoken. Those ravens scared me more than his wolves, for they could uncover my secrets.

As I looked, one of the eyes glimmered red.

The air froze in my lungs, but Balder made no remark about either.

“Before we go in there,” Balder said. He faced me and I felt very much like a mouse standing beneath a lion, but his gaze was tender and his eyes glistened with tears. “I need you to know how sorry I am.”

“For what?”

“For not searching harder. I never should have given up. I should have torn through every hut until I’d found you and brought you home. I will forever be remorseful you were left in that clan without your family and without a way home.”

I was quiet for a moment, for any response tasted like a betrayal to my parents who raised me.

I could hear the love in his voice though, and see it in his eyes as he blinked them dry. I’d longed my entire life to be loved like this, and I hoped to find a way home before he realized he loved the wrong person. I wasn’t his niece. I was nothing to him. He simply didn’t know yet.

For now, he brushed back a strand of my hair. “My sister should be here to see her daughter returned.”

---