Blood Bound by Amy Sumida

Author:Amy Sumida [Sumida, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Valhalla was shockingly silent. Gone were the call of ravens and the howling of wolves. No harried footsteps shuffled across the stone floor and no happy voices resounded through the vast, central hall. The fireplaces were cold, with dusty logs stacked neatly within, and the chairs around them were shrouded in ghostly linen. The light was meager, a dim glow focused only in the very center of the room, leaving the golden-shield lined walls in shadow. I could hear the shouts of Vikings, fighting far off on the everlasting battlefield promised to them, but there, within the Hall itself, there was only silence.

“Vidar?” I called out and my voice echoed through the emptiness.

“Mother,” Lesya's hand went to my shoulder. “This doesn't feel right.”

“He's my son,” I gave her a hard look. “He's not going to hurt me.”

“That's not what I meant,” she looked around warily.

“Vidar!” I shouted more firmly.

“I don't think he's here, Mom,” Lesya frowned. “Why don't we try Valaskjálf?”

“Yeah, maybe you're right,” I sighed and did an about face, heading back to the tracing room.

Minutes later, we walked into Valaskjálf, Odin's-correction- Vidar's silver hall. It was a little more hospitable there; with enough light to shine off the silver shields lining the walls, and one fireplace lit around the sitting area Odin had always preferred. There was the usual pot of mead hanging over the cheery flames. The scent of apples and honey tantalized my nose. I felt some of the tension seep out of my shoulders with the comforting aroma. At least my old home wasn't abandoned.

“Vidar!” I tried again.

A thud filtered down the stairs at the back of the hall and then came the distinctive sound of running footsteps. Vidar came stumbling down the stairs into the dining hall, eyes wide and arms flung out. He stopped before us and looked me over as I did the same to him.

His hair had been cut to shoulder length and he'd grown a short beard, making him look more like Odin. But his sapphire eyes were so different from his father's. They were Sabine's eyes, my eyes once, and they were the only thing I recognized about him.

His once muscular body had withered and twisted, becoming almost skeletal. His tall frame was hunched and his cheeks were hollow. His skin used to glow with health but now it was pale as a ghost. His arm lifted, a claw-like hand extending to me, and a raspy voice escaped his throat.

“Mother?”

“Vidar,” I sobbed and pulled him into my arms. We crumpled together, him falling into my lap.

It was like holding a child, there was barely any weight to him, and I ended up rocking him and cooing to him like he really was a traumatized toddler. I stroked his hair soothingly and kissed his forehead as we cried together. Then his arms wrapped around my waist in a desperate grip.

“I didn't believe him,” he finally said. “Thor told me he felt you come back to us but I didn't believe him.

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