Page 29 of The Viking in the Vault
Ah…the Skoll velraen, Ves.
They take a look at me, huffing out a laugh and saying something cheeky to Elena, based on their tone. Elena blushes even brighter red, laughing and shaking her head as Ves slings abag off of their shoulder and onto the couch, then begins to rifle through it. “What did you say to her?” I ask Ves.
Ves glances at me out of the corner of their eye. “She look forward to get you clothes,” Ves says.
I smile. “Your command of my tongue has already improved.”
Ves, to my surprise, smiles back. “I have never had real life practice.”
Ves pulls some cloth out of their bag, then they toss it over to me. I catch it instinctively, surprised, and I unfold it to find a strange black garment with long sleeves and a zip up the front. I frown. “What is this?”
“Shirt,” Ves says, gesturing to my bare torso. “You wear.”
I grumble. “I don’t think it will fit.”
“Cannot go out…bare chest,” Ves says. “Improper.”
“Not in my time.”
Ves cocks their head. “Not your time.”
I glare at Ves, but I pull the garment over my shoulders anyway, struggling to stretch it across my shoulders and chest. It’s tight–far too tight. The fabric clings uncomfortably, and I wince when I hear fabric tear, revealing my shoulders.
Ves sighs and says something to Elena, who looks back from the kitchen. Her lips twitch and she says something to Ves, who lets out a rueful laugh.
“Give back,” Ves says, holding their hand out.
I do as they say, and Ves takes the garment before tossing it to Elena. Elena, prepared with a pair of scissors, cuts the sleeves off.
That does seem more convenient.
The scholars chat as I rise and dress myself, tugging the garment back on. It’s still tight, but at least I can move–and Ves gives me an approving nod. Elena looks too…and I don’t miss the heat in her gaze as she takes in the sight of her fenvarra.
Elena quickly averts her gaze when she realizes I’ve caught her staring, her cheeks flushing a soft pink that makes my chest tighten. I smirk, taking a moment to adjust the makeshift sleeveless shirt. It’s strange, this fabric—soft, yet sturdy—but it’s far from the furs and leathers I’m used to.
“Better,” Ves declares, stepping back to appraise me. They nod toward the door. “We go now. More clothes.”
Elena grabs her coat, pulling it on hurriedly as she gestures for me to follow. She says something in her language to Ves, who chuckles before responding. I catch a few words—“big,” “shop,” and something about “time”—but the rest is lost to me.
Fenrik stretches lazily in front of the fire, clearly unimpressed by the morning’s commotion. He yawns and thumps his tail, but when Elena whistles softly, he’s on his feet in an instant, trotting to her side. I follow them both to the door, ducking to avoid hitting my antlers on the frame.
Once again, I’m assailed by a barrage of modern changes–people of various species moving about in complete peace, unbothered by the presence of aliens; vehicles moving on the fringes; laughter and conversation in so many languages…and of course, the strange looks. Fenrik stays on the edges, protecting our retinue and baring his teeth at a few passersby only to be gently chastised by Elena.
There’s no space for warhounds in this world. Only…pets.
We reach a shop with large windows displaying an array of clothing–coats, boots, and other garments that look far more suitable than the tight shirt Ves forced on me earlier. The clothes are displayed on statues of Skoll–none quite as large as me, but at least closer to my stature. Ves holds the door open, motioning for us to enter, and I don’t even have to duck for my antlers to fit.
The shopkeeper, a Skoll female, gapes at me as we enter, and says something about my skarnhound. I can hear the apology in Elena’s voice as she responds, explainin our needs. Theshopkeeper nods along as I stand awkwardly in the center of the shop. The walls are lined with thick fur coats, boots, and Skoll tunics with alien elements. Ves is already perusing the offerings, pulling things off of the racks to stack on their arm. When I look back at Elena, she’s at the desk with the shopkeeper, selecting a gold cuff to wear on her ear.
A gold cuff that looks remarkably like the Borean brainwashing device I destroyed.
Or…the thing I thought was a brainwashing device.
“What is that?” I ask Ves, warning in my voice.
Ves looks at me as if they are entirely unfazed by my tacit threats. “Translator,” Ves says, tapping the device on their own ear.
“Why didn’t it work on me?” I ask.
