Viking's Valor Page 2

  Alarmed, Sage glanced over her shoulder and froze.

  Not only had the tree grown even more but some of its leaves were ablaze.

  Just like the enemy’s ash in tenth century Scandinavia.

  Chapter Two

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE that damn thing burned my fingernail!” Shea grumbled as Sage walked around the tree and eyed the roots, then the burning leaves. There weren’t many on fire, just a few, but enough to draw attention come nightfall.

  “I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea to use magic on this tree,” Kenzie said, chastising Shea even as she inspected her burned fingernail with concern. “That tree’s damn powerful. Who knows what harm it could’ve done to you.” Her brows drew together as she ran her finger over Shea’s nail. “This burn isn’t normal. If I didn’t know better, I’d say your talon would be burned if you shifted.”

  That caught Sage’s attention, and she looked closer at Shea’s nail as well. Kenzie was right.

  “Not good,” she muttered, eying the tree again as chills swept over her.

  “Why not good?” Shea said absently, eying her fingernail. “Outside of a ruined manicure that is.”

  “Because those burning leaves mean Skáld’s influencing this tree,” Sage enlightened, not wanting to scare Shea but figuring it was for the best. Her sister needed to start taking things more seriously. “So that means, he’s made contact with not just your dragon but your magic, Shea.” She frowned at her. “Which means his dragons have as well.”

  “Which means whatever dragon he sends to mate with Shea,” Kenzie murmured, catching on fast, “will likely have a one up on whatever Sigdir is meant for her.”

  “A one up?” Shea rolled her eyes, still not concerned. “Please.”

  “I know you all have a lot going on with wars, prophecies and enemy dragons,” Pierce said, eying the canopy of leaves with a scowl. “But how do you intend to handle your more immediate problem?” Hopeful, he glanced from the garden hose back to the burning leaves. “Any chance—”

  “None whatsoever,” Sage cut him off and shook her head. “Water isn’t going to put those fires out. I’m going to have to come up with something else.”

  “So I shouldn’t expect the whole tree to go up in flames then?” He watched the leaves sway dubiously. “Because it’s only going to get windier with the storm coming in.”

  “That might just be the key,” Sage said softly. “Maybe we can use the storm to hide Skáld’s magic somehow. Hide the magic, hide the burning leaves.”

  “Or,” Kenzie gave Sage a knowing look, “you can travel back in time, defeat Leif and hopefully save the day that way.”

  “Nothing says it’ll work like that.” She shook her head. “No, I say we deal with this using the weather.”

  “Isn’t that sort of risky?” Kenzie said. “If you think Skáld sensed Shea’s magic because she was holding back a few branches, what do you think he’s going to get off of all three of us using our magic to cloak this thing?”

  She made a good point. Still, she wasn’t ready to do what she knew needed to be done. Not yet.

  “You’re dragging your feet, and you know it, Sage,” Shea said bluntly. “You said yourself there was no getting around this thing. That our ancestor royally screwed us.” She shrugged before she glanced from the tree to Sage. “We all know it’s time for you to head back. That the only way out of this is to deal with it.”

  Getting out of any of this was Shea’s own hopeful spin, but she understood what she meant. She also understood that if anyone was going to find a way to set her sisters free from this prophecy, it was Sage. How else could it be considering the prophecy was birthed the night her and her twin sister were separated as newborns? So she was very much at the root of this thing. Which meant she needed to deal with it.

  More so, she needed to deal with Håkon and Leif.

  “You’re right,” she murmured, nodding as she looked back and forth between her sisters, concerned. “It’s time.”

  “We’re going to be fine,” Kenzie assured, well aware how worried she was.

  “With Kenzie watching over everyone, how could they not be?” Shea said, still convinced she was tagging along.

  “I control the time travel fire,” Sage reminded Shea. “Which means you’re not going anywhere without my say so.”

  “Then say so,” Shea shot back, releasing a dainty chomp and a saucy wisp of dragon smoke as she wiggled her finger to remind everyone of her scorched fingernail. “Because somebody’s gonna pay for this between my dragon teeth.”

  “God,” Sage groaned, more irritated by the moment with Shea’s demeanor considering she knew what they faced in Scandinavia. “You’re going to get yourself killed damn fast, Shea.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll snap some sense into her,” Kenzie promised before she gestured at the tree. “Now it’s time to go so you can get back.”

  She nodded and pulled them close for a group hug before she looked at Pierce. “Keep an eye on them, okay?”

  “You got it,” he replied. “Stay safe and say hi to Emily for me.”

  She nodded then flung up her hands and started chanting even as Shea sidled closer, thinking she would hitch a ride. Unfortunately for her, it didn’t work that way. Despite her proximity, Sage had full control over who went where. So she wasn’t concerned when her time travel magic sparked, and a twisting tunnel of fire whipped up.

  Then immediately fizzled out.

  “What the hell?” she whispered as she tried again but only produced a tiny burst of sparks.

  “Um...what’s going on?” Shea asked. “Because whatever you’re doing seems to be making matters worse.”

  “Damn,” Kenzie said softly, cocking her head as she peered at the tree trunk. Better yet, the jet-black oil slicks that had appeared in the bark. “Look at that.”

  Meanwhile, Harley whimpered and crouched on the ground, and the cats hissed from the deck.

  “Don’t anybody move,” Sage warned, eying the roots again. “Don’t touch the tree and sure as hell don’t touch the roots.”

  Kenzie glanced at her animals nervously but stayed put, as did the other two.

  “Please don’t tell me the pits of hell are going to open up beneath us,” Pierce said softly, well aware of what had happened to Emily and her mate Sven at Skáld’s Ash. How it had turned out to be a doorway into Múspellsheimr, the dragon’s fiery home world.

  “So what’s going on, Sis?” Shea murmured, at long last showing signs of concern. “Because it almost looks like these roots have shifted some.” She sniffed. “And does anyone else smell gasoline?”

  Crap. The roots of Skáld’s Ash had smelled like gas before the doorway to Múspellsheimr opened. But these roots weren’t acting the same. They weren't writhing on the ground yet, so there was still time.

  “We need to get away from the tree,” she began but trailed off when the smell of gas faded as well as the oil slicks on the tree trunk. Even the animals had settled down.

  “Look.” Kenzie peered up. “The leaves have returned to normal too.”

  “Everybody stay put while I make sure it’s safe to move,” Sage said as she crouched.

  “Sis, I don’t think that’s a great idea—” Kenzie started, but Sage cut her off.

  “Just don’t move,” she reiterated. While she understood Kenzie's concern considering what happened the last time she did this at Skáld’s Ash, she had no choice. If danger still existed around this tree, these roots would tell her. Níðhöggr would tell her.

  So it was the only way.

  Yet when she placed a hand firmly over a root, nothing happened. No massive ancient dragon appeared. No message. All was quiet.

  Until it wasn’t.

  Suddenly, the world muted, and everyone vanished. Colors dulled then sharpened as the leaves of the tree whipped violently and the ocean burned. She was between worlds. Midgard, Helheim, and Múspellsheimr.

  Which meant Níðhöggr was coming.

  Seconds later, he appeared as a shifting shadow both within and above the tree. Monstrous, one of the largest dragons ever to exist, his essence was indescribably intense. Mesmerizing. Alluring.

  “Don’t you hurt my sisters,” she ground out, glaring up into his fiery eyes as she worked to rein in her temper. The last time she had confronted this dragon, he possessed Håkon, and she was far too aggressive and defiant. Not surprisingly, her ancestor appreciated that, thinking she would make a good warrior for his cause. A mighty fighter in his ancient vendetta.

  “You know I will not hurt my warriors,” he responded, his voice such a deep baritone the ground vibrated. “You have done well enough readying them, offspring. Now it is time to wage your war.”

  “It’s not my war, asshole,” she reminded.

  “But it is,” he responded. “A war that has been brought to your very doorstep.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she took his meaning. “Skáld’s here, isn’t he...in the tree.”

  “Not yet,” he replied. “Not if you do what you must.”

  Bastards. The two ancient enemies were playing games with each other at her and her sisters’ expense. “Did you do this? Did you give him access to our place?” She shook her head. “What purpose would that serve?” She gave it more thought. “Unless it’s all a show to get me to rush back in time which, by the way, I tried—”

  That was it. That was all she got out before it seemed like all the oxygen was sucked out of the air then whooshed back in. Her vision blurred as the ground shifted then righted itself. She was being shifted through time, and it wasn’t nearly as peaceful an experience as before.

  Nor were those she faced when she arrived.

  Chapter Three

  Scandinavia

  932 A.D.

  “I NEED TO LEAVE.” Håkon scowled at his new king and queen. “I should already be gone.”

  “Soon,” Sven replied as he handed him a horn of ale. “Soren should return on the morrow then we will go.”

  “You and Emily should remain here,” Håkon insisted yet again. “This battle is mine.”

  “This battle is ours, and you damn well know it, Brother,” Emily said as they sat around a fire in the main lodge. “Soren is the best choice to lead in our absence.”

  “It’s taken him long enough to make his way back,” Håkon muttered under his breath then took a hearty swig of ale. “His own father’s life is at stake yet he’s off on some crusade.”

  In truth, not only had the weather worsened seemingly everywhere but the whole of Scandinavia was in an uproar, slowing Soren’s return considerably. Still, his father Heidrek and Uncle Bjorn were gone. Taken to Múspellsheimr against their will. So to Håkon's mind that meant Soren should have long been home. He should have returned when this all started.

  “I’m going with you too, Håkon,” Halla declared as she joined them, excitement in her eyes as they met Sven’s. “And don’t you dare say otherwise.”

  “That’s your king you’re talking to,” Davyn reminded her as he joined them as well.

  “Yes,” Halla concurred as she winked at Emily. “A king that remembers very well who helped save him and his beautiful queen on our last adventure.”

  Emily chuckled and shook her head. “Did you hear either of us say you couldn’t come, sweetie?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Halla beamed a little as she realized Sven and Davyn were finally giving up the weeks long battle of telling her she couldn’t go. She nodded, pleased. “Glad that’s settled then.”

  When a woman sauntered over intent to sit on Håkon’s lap, he shook his head and waved her away but not before Davyn pulled her down on his and murmured something in her ear. She giggled, whispered something back, gave him a telling look then sauntered off in the general direction of his lodge.

  “Do you care nothing of the mate heading your way, Cousin?” Håkon grumbled. “Because she is coming.”

  After all, Håkon's was already here. Or very well could be. He downed the rest of his ale, hoping like hell Sage hadn’t traveled back in time without him knowing and was somewhere out there. Moreover, he hoped she hadn’t already crossed paths with Leif.

  “Perhaps my mate is coming,” Davyn responded, interrupting his thoughts. “Perhaps not.” He shrugged. “I see no reason to stop enjoying the pleasure of women based on uncertainty.”

  Halla’s brows arched in disbelief. “So you are saying if you knew for sure she was coming that you would turn women away?”

  The corner of Davyn’s mouth shot up, and a mischievous glint lit his eyes. “Hard to imagine, yes?”

  She chuckled. “Very.”

  “Have your tattoos acted up at all?” Sven asked, focusing on Håkon and Davyn.

  Both shook their heads. Since they returned, all had remained the same. Davyn’s was still entirely black, and Håkon’s had just a smidge of color. Sven’s had started out black as well but as he and Emily progressed on their adventure and overcame things together more color had been added until Sven’s tattoo became what it was now. Two fiery blue dragons symbolizing him and Emily. Dragons, as it turned out, that were the same color as the mysterious ship’s sail that was built for Sven. One of six supposedly constructed for him and his brethren.

  “So we’ve confirmed that Eirik, Rokar, and Soren have all been marked as well, yes?” Håkon asked.

  Emily nodded, renewed distress on her face because not one but two of her brothers had been marked by Skáld. That meant they all had enemy dragons to face who were specifically hand-picked to match them in strength, wit, and desirability when it came to one of Sage’s sisters. Just like Håkon had been picked by Níðhöggr and Leif by Skáld.

  “It seems your tattoos act up in other worlds too,” Emily informed. “Eirik says his has been giving him issues in Helheim. Not too bad but enough.”

  “Then why stay in Helheim?” Håkon groused before Sven had a chance to. “Especially when he should be here helping us and looking after his stubborn pregnant sister who’s determined to put herself in harm’s way.”

  Sven met his scowl, clearly in agreement as he pulled Emily onto his lap and rested his hand protectively over her stomach. Eirik had come home briefly after Emily and Sven discovered she was pregnant then vanished again, off to spend time with Goddess Hel rather than be here where he belonged. He claimed that he was keeping an eye on Helheim on their behalf, but Håkon just saw it as an excuse for Eirik to remain where he preferred to be.

  “Eirik said he’ll be joining us soon,” Emily said, ever the optimist when it came to their little brother. “If not tomorrow then at the Ancient’s Lair.”

  “What about Rokar?” Halla’s eyes met Emily’s. “Will he be staying here then?”

  Emily nodded, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “Sven thinks it’s for the best right now.”

  A brief silence fell as they all likely thought of that awful day a few years back. A day that took Rokar’s wife and child from him and had since kept him from going anywhere near the sea.

  “I have not seen much of him since he got home,” Halla said softly on a sigh. “He keeps to his lodge too often.”

  “He’s out enough,” Sven said. “He’s helped prepare the Fortress for possible invaders. That is all we need of him for now.”

  Emily nodded and squeezed Sven’s hand as she rested her head against his shoulder and continue talking. Yet alarmingly enough, Håkon couldn’t hear her. Instead, his surroundings muted and his tattoo suddenly flared with pain.

  He gripped his side as Leif growled into his mind, “He has taken her.”

  As swiftly as it came, his pain fled and everything returned to normal but not before Emily sensed what had happened, and closed the distance.

  “What just happened, Brother?” She crouched in front of him, with Sven right behind her.

  Håkon shook his head and frowned at his sister. “You should not come close to me when my tattoo acts up.” He looked at her stomach pointedly. “It’s dangerous, and you have more to think about than yourself now, Em.”

  “I know,” she replied even as she stayed put. “What just happened to you, Håkon?”

  “Leif,” he growled as he stood. “He sent me a message without realizing it.” His eyes met Sven’s. “Sage is in trouble. She’s been taken.”

  “By who?”

  He shook his head as he strode for the door. “I have no idea, but I cannot wait any longer. I must go.”

  “Not yet,” Sven bit out, striding after him with Emily in pursuit. “We will sail at first light and no sooner.”

  “Would you be saying that if it was Emily out there somewhere in harm’s way?” Håkon said as he headed out into the driving rain. “Of course you wouldn’t, and I would not expect it of you.”

  “I have known Emily for far longer—”

  “What Sven means to say,” Emily interrupted, finding a better argument swiftly, “is that leaving now means risking the safety of your crew not to mention my and Halla’s lives because we’ll be damned if we let you leave without us.”

  “Then I will travel on foot and meet you along the way,” he growled.

  “Listen to yourself, Brother,” Emily yelled over the rain and wind. “Even if you could shift, this is no weather to travel in. You’d be useless to Sage if and when you found her not to mention in no shape to battle Leif. Your thoughts right now are foolhardy, and you know it.”

  He ducked into his lodge and slowed knowing full well she was right. Yet it didn’t make it any easier to try and see reason. To hold back for the sake of his people and kin’s safety.

  “Who is Leif talking about,” he murmured, as he braced his hand on the mantle and hung his head, trying to think clearly. Reasonably. Not easy to do after meeting a woman like Sage. After feeling the way he did the very moment their eyes connected for the first time. After experiencing such strong desire. “What enemies do we have outside of Leif and Skáld?”

  “They could be countless,” Emily said, “considering the whole of Scandinavia is in an uproar because of Skáld and Níðhöggr and whatever they’re up to. Whatever influence they’re having over not just this world but all nine worlds.”