Chapter Seven Baldr

M y feet hit the ground in another flash of golden magic and I staggered, reaching out a hand to steady myself against the nearby wall. My stomach turned for half a second as the teleportation caught up to me. I was still trying to get used to the feeling, but it really did make me want to hurl. And it got worse the further I traveled. Considering this was my furthest jump yet, I was surprised I hadn’t emptied my stomach right there in the middle of my apartment.

But as I managed to catch my breath, I couldn’t help but feel a little proud of myself. Not only had I teleported several dozen miles in a single bound, but I’d also managed to land myself smack in the center of my domicile on the third floor of the resort. Usually I tried to avoid buildings, especially ones with multiple floors. Things could get a little hairy if I didn’t aim just right and getting caught halfway through the floor would probably kill me. However, since I was so familiar with my own place, it was surprisingly easy to land there without harm.

I could congratulate myself later though. Mist needed my help, and I was almost certain Tyr would notice the witch’s death fairly soon. He’d been going to see her for years from what Loki could tell me and that meant they had probably forged some sort of connection, magical or otherwise between them. I had to find my mother’s spellbook and get to Mist as fast as possible to set him free. I just hoped the book had something useful in it.

Finding it was going to be difficult though. However, I knew where to begin looking.

Righting the backpack on my shoulders, I headed out of my apartment and into the hallway. At the far end were two other doors, belonging to Thor and Loki, respectively. However, there was a fourth, smaller door leading to a small unit stationed between the two. It used to be our father’s overflow office for mostly storage and filing cabinets, but now it held mostly boxes and memories. After he died, Thor and I had packed up his things and placed them inside. Loki was too deep in grief to help at the time, but we had to get his stuff out of the way so we could continue running the resort. Not to mention, Thor’s apartment used to be our father’s. It would’ve been far too cruel a reminder to ask him to live with our father’s things still decorating the space.

As I approached the door, I drew up a single rune for unlocking in my mind. As soon as it was formed, I let it travel down my arm. No sooner had my finger touched the door handle than the lock snapped to the side and the door creaked open. Inside the entire place was pitch black thanks to its lack of windows and since the power was still out, I had no other choice than to call on my magic again, filling the palm of my hand with a bright glowing rune. I made a mental note not to use any more magic. At the rate I was going, I would pass out from exhaustion. The teleportation nearly did me in and these tiny spells were already taking their toll.

Despite that realization and the need for haste, I knew I had no idea what I was looking for. A spellbook, I hoped, would be obvious. Then again, knowing my mother, it might not be. She loved her magic, using it to imbue everyday objects with a sense of wonder and joy for me when I was a boy. She even used to make little toys that would move on their own for the three of us. It was no wonder I’d never noticed a spellbook while we were packing up my father’s things. There was a very good chance it was a mundane book or a modern copy of Tom Sawyer. Hell, it might even be a pamphlet or something for all I knew.

And that meant I’d need to go through every box, one by one, until I found what I was looking for. As much as I heard the ticking of the clock in the back of my mind, this task had to be done carefully. So, with a sigh, I grabbed a box, hefted it up onto the desk, and started to go through it piece by piece. I just hoped the witch was right and that the answer I most desperately needed was somewhere hidden amongst these memories.

◆◆◆

Nearly two hours after I began, I was flipping open the very last box in the old office, my rune light glowing weakly in my hand. Despite the tiny draw of magic from the light, I was running on empty. I’d already broken into my backpack and eaten the rest of my snacks in the hopes it would replenish my energy. However, nothing I did seemed to help. I was running out and if I didn’t find the book soon, I was going to have to spend the night in the resort. I was also on the last box in the office, so that meant if it wasn’t in there, I’d have to start searching somewhere else and I didn’t know where to even begin.

I was also exhausted for another reason. Going through those boxes and having to look at each item individually was a lot more emotionally taxing than I’d anticipated. It seemed there was still quite a bit of grief surrounding both of my parents that I hadn’t worked through yet. Having lost my father recently, I expected to feel a bit of grief welling up inside me. But my mother had been gone for nearly six years and I thought I’d moved on. But seeing all those pictures and notes with her handwriting on them… it brought my grief right back to the surface.

Suddenly it felt like yesterday that I’d come back to the resort after being out all day at the hot springs with my brothers. We’d gone to our secret place where we could splash and yell and carry on without annoying the customers. We were soaked, exhausted, and as happy as could be. But when I came back up to our suite that last afternoon, the three of us found our father sitting with his face buried in his arms at the kitchen island. It was only when he finally looked up that we realized he’d been crying.

Back then I hadn’t questioned it when he told me my mother was gone. There was no explanation, no accident, and no sickness. She just simply wasn’t there anymore. I knew from the way he said it, she hadn’t left on an errand or decided to abandon us. She was dead, and he didn’t want to tell us why or how.

My brothers were my support for the most part. Father was far too busy trying to deal with his own grief to worry about mine. Now that I was an adult, I could understand that. But as a kid, I felt abandoned in some respects. However, the questions I had now as I stared at old photographs and hand-written notes weren’t about him. They were about her and why she’d disappeared so suddenly without warning.

Where had my mother gone? And why did she have to leave? Those were answers I never got and now that father was dead, I doubted I ever would. And now they burned in my chest despite everything else that required my attention. I wished I could find the answers I wanted in those old pictures, but alas, they would not speak to me no matter how hard I stared at them.

Once I’d finished the very last box and found nothing, I stood up with a huff. After all that time and effort, I had nothing to show for it except a heavy heart and a growing sense of urgency. Mist was counting on me and every moment that ticked by was another that he came closer to danger.

I lifted my hand in the air, the glowing rune on the edge of death as I stomped toward the door in irritation. However, just as I was about to leave my father’s old office, my light fell over a portrait leaning against the wall that I’d never noticed before. It was sitting on the floor, half submerged in file boxes. The frame was ornate and gold, shimmering in the light. My interest piqued, I pulled it out from its dusty hiding place, holding it to the light so I could get a better look.

The woman staring back at me was powerful and strong. She sat straight and tall against a red velvet chair, her gold dress flowing around her. Dark auburn hair was braided and piled on top of her head, giving her an almost regal look. However, what struck me most was her golden eyes staring back at me. It was one thing that I’d inherited from her. Whenever I looked in a mirror, I saw her eyes staring back at me.

Seeing her painted in such a lifelike quality nearly brought tears to my eyes. It had been so long since I’d seen something that captured her power and softness all at the same time. Photos usually only caught one or the other, but the painter, whoever they were, had caught both in this single image.

However, just as I was about to put it back and stop torturing myself, my eyes caught something else. There, in her right hand, was a book. I pulled the painting close, holding up my rune light to see it better. The book was bound in dark leather with runes painted across its surface. It definitely looked like a spellbook, or how I’d expect one to look. However, in all my searching, I’d found nothing that looked even remotely similar.

But that gave me an idea.

Reaching out my hand, I pressed my index finger to the painting, directly on top of the book’s cover. I was surprised to feel a faint buzzing sensation against my skin. It felt like magic.

“Mother,” I whispered. “Show me where your spellbook is so I can save my friend.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “So I can save the man I… I love.”

I let out a gasp as the painting began to move. I watched in surprise and frankly, a little bit of horror, as my mother blinked once, nodded, and unfolded her hands from the book. She lifted it up, holding the book out to me. As it came closer, I saw a faint golden glow. Suddenly the painting rippled and the corner of the book came out of it, as if a tiny portal had been opened. But I knew better than to hesitate. Reaching out, I took the corner of the book and pulled it free, the weight of it comforting in my hand.

My mother’s portrait pulled her hands back, folded them in her lap, and gave me a smile. With one last nod, she assumed her previous position, and the painting went still once more. My gaze darted between the book and the now still portrait of my mother, tears rolling down my cheeks. For half a second I thought I was going to see her, that she might… I don’t know… step out of the painting and help me. But that wasn’t the case. I recognized her magic for what it was, a simple pocket to store the book away from prying eyes and hands. And clearly, it had been meant for me or else I never would’ve gotten it.

Had she seen my future before she died? Her visions were always much stronger than mine. She must’ve known one day that I’d need the book and her help to save my friend and our pack. I just hoped I’d figure out how to use it in time to save everyone.

Now that I had the book, there was no time for rest or reading. I cut the magic to my rune light and darted out of the office down the hall. I made one quick pitstop at my suite to fill my backpack with snacks and sugary drinks. I’d need all the energy I could get if I was going to bring that dome down without sleeping first. But that also meant no teleporting. Oh well, at least I could eat on the way to the Skoll mountain.

Throwing my now stuffed backpack over my shoulders, I headed out of the resort and back into the snow. The past twenty-four hours had been absolutely wild. And I had a feeling things were going to get a lot crazier before it was over. But one thing was for certain, I was going to find a way to finally hold Mist for the first time and that feeling filled me to the brim with joy and no small amount of desire. Hopefully I’d be able to keep myself in check because I had a feeling my reaction to him was going to be much stronger than I anticipated.

For nearly the past decade I’d felt that he might be… my mate. But I wouldn’t know for sure until I caught his scent. And that moment was fast approaching.

Hopefully I could resist its call.