The Songweaver's Vow by Laura VanArendonk Baugh

Author:Laura VanArendonk Baugh [Baugh, Laura VanArendonk]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781631650055
Publisher: Æclipse Press
Published: 2017-02-20T23:00:00+00:00

Euthalia retraced her steps to where she had arrived sprawling in the snow, watching for a burst of rainbow. She had a visit to pay.

It was possible, she supposed, to visit anywhere in Midgard, the human realm. She could return to Aros, or Byzantium, or even to her own home village. She felt a small temptation at the thought of appearing unexpectedly at home, learning what tale her father had spun to explain the missing warriors and daughter and then explaining the truth of things to all—but that was no home to her now, even if she knew how to go there.

Heimdallr must have seen her somehow, for the portal opened and she braced herself for the disorienting whirl of color. This time she kept her feet. She did not remember much of her first trip via the Bifröst, when Vidar had carried her from Aros to the mimic-village in Asgard, but the second was etched clear in her mind.

She walked out into the cool air of a Midgard autumn, light slanting golden. She looked about the hilly landscape, pretty in the early evening light. Then she steeled herself and turned toward the cave which lay ahead of her.

Her stomach wrenched even as she faced the opening. Too clearly she recalled Narfi twisting into a wolf, Nari screaming as he tried to fend off his brother’s savage attack, Sigyn’s long, agonized screams as she watched her sons destroyed before her.

Euthalia shook her head. If they were terrible things to her, they were more terrible still to Sigyn and Loki. She took a slow, deep breath and started into the cave.

The light faded quickly, and Euthalia made slow progress as she felt her way forward. She remembered the cave floor being stone-littered but solid, without crevasses or pits to engulf her, and the ceiling was low but sufficient for her head. Through the darkness ahead of her she could see a pinpoint of light, and she crept toward it.

Sigyn heard her stumbling and kicking stones in the darkness. “Who’s there?” she called sharply. “I know you’re there!”

Euthalia wished she’d thought to announce herself earlier; of course they would fear someone creeping upon them. “It’s Euthalia,” she answered. “I have no light, I’m sorry.”

“Euthalia?” Sigyn’s voice was not welcoming. Euthalia told herself it was not outright hostile, but she wasn’t sure if she were lying to herself.

Loki said something, but Euthalia could not distinguish his words. His voice was low and the words were slurred.

Euthalia could see them now, lit by a single lamp. Sigyn leaned forward over Loki’s supine body, her arms stretched to extend the bowl over his head. By the angle, the bowl was better than half-full and heavy. She turned her face from the bowl to watch Euthalia come into the light.

“What brings you here?” she asked, her voice a barely contained snarl. “Come to gloat? To see how far we have fallen?”

Euthalia felt as if a knife had pierced her gut. “No, Sigyn, no,” she answered. “Of course not.

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