Winter of Our Discontent by M. H. Bonham

Author:M. H. Bonham [Bonham, M. H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy
Publisher: Llaughing Llama Media LLC
Published: 2020-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

The rest of the night was spent with everyone reveling, except me. Maybe the gravity of my choice weighed on me, or maybe the fact that my best friend—my only friend really, other than Ulf—had declared that he was no longer my friend. It left me saddened and empty inside. For all his weird idiosyncrasies, Galdor was the one person I looked up to. He was actually kind, in a pompous sort of way, but next to Jotun, he was the Nordic equivalent of a saint.

I retired to the room Ægir and Ran offered me. It was incredibly damp and dreary, made from rotting ships’ timber and seaweed. I lay on the damp bed, listened to the partying in the great hall, and pondered my choices. Did I really want to live in Ransalr? My first thought was “no,” but I had already accepted the challenge, without thinking. I guessed that maybe I would be able to leave the hall and return to the land to wander in the forests. Could I give up my Frost Giant magic to work magic that controlled the seas? Could I become a Sea Lord?

Then, there was the problem with the test. I was to use my magic to destroy an entire village—people and all. Was I willing to exchange my safety with a kindred for innocent lives? I had cavalierly accepted the test without thinking it through. Having Galdor challenge me, just steeled my resolve. But lying on the damp bed gave me second thoughts. Was I willing to kill people who had done me no harm?

You did kill Trugar and his buddies, a little voice inside my head said. You didn’t have any problems with that.

I took in a deep breath. Trugar and his cronies were vicious and cruel. I often avoided them when they came around after their first time of taunting and attacking. But it took them attacking an innocent wolf puppy to make me mad enough to do something. Maybe it wasn’t the right action, but it was definitely Jotun, even if it meant I had to go vargr.

Ulf lay beside me, whimpering softly. I stroked his warm fur as he pressed up against me. He hated it here. I could understand that. I hated it here, too. But what could I seriously do? Go to Muspelheim, and hope to get a reprieve from the Fire Giants? That wasn’t an option, really. I wasn’t a Fire Giant—I was a Frost Giant.

You could go find Galdor and apologize, the nagging little voice in my head said.

I shut that down with a reminder he was unlikely to accept my friendship again. I had seriously angered him. And anyway, Jotun didn’t admit they were sorry, or that they messed up.

I thought about what both Ægir and Galdor had mentioned about the Aesir, and shook my head. I didn’t want to live anywhere near Asgard and those stuck up (and dangerous) Aesir. Most of them were Jotun, just like me, only they hated us.

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