Mirror of the Gods, page 7
Ridder felt as if he was the one who was going to get sick. Dira, on the other hand, didn’t look surprised at all.
“You knew she was a seer,” he accused, his voice a low hiss.
“I just found out this morning.”
“Should someone go check on her?” Jay asked, turning in her chair as the sound of the toilet flushing filled the cabin. Dira sighed heavily as Ridder continued to glare at her. She looked for help from Kreager, and found him staring at his feet, brow furrowed in concentration.
Growling low, Ridder stood from his seat, stretching his long body as he stalked away from his siblings, who all sat in various attitudes of silence ranging from stunned to concerned, to lost in thought. Worry, anger, frustration, and confusion warred within him. The most concerning emotion was worry. Why should he worry about her?
There were more sounds of retching from the bathroom.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to remain calm. He was used to having a tight hold on his emotions, but after less than an hour in her presence, that hold had slackened immensely.
***
In the bathroom, Lucy wiped the tears from her face and whimpered. Her knees hurt from falling to the ground so fast, her stomach hurt, and she felt much shakier than she had before.
The luxury of the bathroom was completely lost on her as she searched for a toothbrush or anything that would get the acidic taste out of her mouth. There was a little bottle of mouthwash, so she used it.
She took a look at herself in the mirror and winced at the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, and her gaunt, pale skin.
“You look dead, Sheridan,” she murmured, and flicked on the faucet. Needing to gather her thoughts about what she’d just seen, Lucy took her time, splashing water on her face, brushing her teeth, and using all the ointments and lotions in all the little bottles to make herself look alive, even if she didn’t feel it.
She took one last look in the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom, avoiding eye contact as she made her way back to her seat.
The silence should have been comforting, no one pushing for an explanation, but it left Lucy feeling anxious. She picked at a loose thread on her seatbelt.
“I saw death.”
Kreager shifted, standing up a bit straighter as he placed his hands on the credenza on either side of him. Ridder dropped his hand from where it was stroking his stubble-covered jaw, turning his dark eyes to Lucy as he listened intently.
“I saw a mountain. It loomed over me, the sky gray, clouds heavy with snow. It was cold. Freezing. And I heard this moaning from behind me. The snow...”
She tugged at the thread. “It was like someone had painted the snow with blood. It was so red, and the snow was so white. I saw villagers, mostly women and children, dead. Their homes ... Huts made of wood and straw, up in flames. I could smell them burning. I started running, trying to find anyone I could help, but all I saw was a figure dressed in all black, crouched over a girl. His hands were around her throat. He was choking her.”
Jay placed her hand on Lucy’s, stilling them. Closing her eyes, she exhaled and continued.
“He said something to her, and she began crying, screaming for anyone to help her. But no one came. They were all dead. He let her go, and for a moment I thought she was going to live. She tried to run, but before she could the man stepped up behind her and broke her neck, as easy as snapping his fingers.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Someone screamed behind me, and the man stared at me—through me—his eyes dark and filled with hatred. He started toward me and then it all faded,” Lucy finished.
“Did the man speak?” Ridder demanded, towering over her, earning a sharp look from both Dira and Kreager. Surprised at the closeness, Lucy glanced up at him and nodded.
“As everything was fading away he reached out, past me, like he was going to grab something behind me. I didn’t hear everything he said, but it ended with du savoir.”
Ridder’s frown deepened, and he took a step back, holding onto a headrest as if it was the only thing keeping him up. Kreager sighed and moved to sit in one of the empty chairs, scrubbing his hands over his face, before sharing a look with Dira.
Jay rubbed a soothing hand over Lucy’s shoulder. “Do you know what it means?”
“I never learned French. But I can find out. I just need a secure way to access the internet and some time.” She almost sighed in relief as Dira nodded.
“I’ll go and grab some of my gear,” Jay commented, unstrapping herself and climbing somehow gracefully over Lucy. Lucy gaped. The four of them were acting like this sort of thing happened every day.
“What is it, when I... see things?” Lucy looked up at Ridder. “Do you know what’s happening?”
Ridder looked away, and Lucy felt annoyance, frustration, and indignation rise. She undid her seatbelt and stood, craning her neck to stare at him until his maddening deep brown eyes turned back to her.
“I’m not stupid,” she said. “In fact, I am far from it. So I would like some answers, and I would like them now.” Her Texan accent got thicker when she was mad, and she sure was tired of being underestimated by these people and treated like a child.
Ridder’s eyebrows raised in surprise, his glare softening a bit, but there was still heat in his eyes.
“No one said you were stupid, querida,” Ridder began. If he meant his tone to be placating rather than patronizing, he’d failed.
Lucy’s eyes narrowed into slits as her lips curled back ever so slightly.
“Don’t you ‘darling’ me,” she snapped. “I’m sure it works on most women—makes them swoon, I bet. But it just makes me plain mad. And I’m from Texas, don’t look so surprised that I can speak Spanish. I’ve met many a smooth-talking man in my life and I’ve yet to be impressed with any of them.”
Her chest heaved as she fell silent, her shoulders slowly easing down from their bunched position. The others all wore varying expressions of shocked amusement, barely contained laughter and admiration. Lucy’s cheeks flushed darkly, and she resisted the urge to look down at her feet, wishing to be anywhere but there. Shame curled in her gut at her outburst.
Forcing herself to speak more calmly, she said, “I just want answers, that’s all.”
Ridder leaned back on his heels, grinning wolfishly down at her. Then his grip on the headrest tightened as he leaned forward, his face mere inches from hers. His scent coiled around her, dark and mysterious, with a spiced tinge to it. Expensive, mixed with something that was purely male, purely him. It was intoxicating.
“So, the kitten has some claws after all. You’ll need that fire inside you before this is over,” he purred. His eyes were twin smoldering coals.
Somehow, she knew he was right.
She decided not to dwell on or take insult from his words. He winked at her, and despite herself, Lucy found her lips twitching, her stomach warming at the sight of Ridder’s own slow, reciprocating smile.
“Someone want to tell me what’s going on here?” McCain asked.
Lucy froze, her smile dropping as her blood ran cold and the moment shattered.
Dr. McCain was not only awake and sitting upright but glaring at her with barely concealed rage. Her stomach twisted violently and for one long moment, she was terrified she was going to be sick again. She took a few steps toward him.
“S-Sir, I can explain.”
Clint struggled to his feet, then began clawing his way toward her, his face thunderous.
Without warning, Ridder was in front of her, his arm pushing her behind his broad frame as he stared Clint down.
“I suggest you calm down,” he said, his voice a low hiss, like a cobra ready to strike. Clint just blinked, shocked at the man looming between him and his student.
“Sheridan, you’ve got about thirty seconds to explain just what the hell is going on here before I—”
“Before you do what, Dr. McCain?” Dira’s tone was sharp and terrifyingly cold. Lucy actually shivered and stepped toward Ridder as she slid around them, stopping toe to toe with Clint. “You are currently forty-one thousand feet over the Atlantic Ocean. The pilot works for us, we are hours away from landing, and there is nothing you can do. So if I were you, I would take a seat, calm down as my brother suggested, and let us explain to both you and Lucy why we’re here and who we are.”
Clint’s mouth twitched, and he thought better of whatever he was about to say, instead squeezing past Dira and doing as he was told.
***
When Jay emerged from the back of the plane with a large black case, she looked between the other five people silently glaring at each other and grinned.
“Looks like I’m just in time for the party. What’s up, Doc? Have a nice nap?” She winked at Clint as she slid back into her seat, patting the one beside her with an expectant look at Lucy.
“What kind of mess are we in here, Lucy?” What had his intern gotten them into?
“Well, sir, I-I took an artifact from the dig site,” she blurted, unable to look him in the eye. Clint rubbed his hands over his face.
“How could you be so... Oh Jesus, Sheridan.” This was why he had rules. “Alright. So, you must all be attachés from Norway?” Clint looked up at Dira and Ridder, both of them leaning back with their arms crossed.
“No.”
Clint blinked in confusion, then stared at Lucy. “Just what the heck did you steal?”
Lucy raised her arms.
Baffled, he just stared at her with his mouth open. “Lucy, those aren’t artifacts. They’re not nearly old enough. Probably made to look like Viking-era jewelry from some gift shop—”
“But they are!”
Without letting him interrupt, Lucy launched into an explanation of how she had come across the bracelets, how they had all but fused to her body and there was no way to get them off, all the way up to that morning, waking up from her blackout to find Dira in her house.
For a few tense moments after she finished, no one said a word. Clint just stared at her blankly.
“Magic bracelets, bad guys, visions,” he said. “I never pegged you as a loon, Sheridan.”
She let out a loud groan and buried her head in her hands.
“She’s not insane,” Kreager said.
Clint just scoffed. “Not just her. All of you are. You must be if you think I’m going to believe that bullshit. Entertaining, sure. But it’s all bullshit.”
“It’s not! Do you think I wanted to drop out of all my classes? To leave my home, my friends, my family, without any word?” The air in the cabin shifted, and Dira leaned forward. Clint followed her eyes to the cuffs, which had begun to glow. “Do you think I want to feel like I’m going insane, or that I’m being hunted by some kind of shadow cult?” Clint gaped as Lucy’s eyes glowed icy blue, the same color as the cuffs. “You think this is fun?” Lucy slammed her hand down onto the table.
“Calm her,” Dira ordered sharply.
Ridder moved forward without hesitation, taking hold of her wrists and drawing her in toward him, away from the table and the others. The cuffs burned his hands where he held them, and he winced but somehow managed to hold on. Clint could practically taste Lucy’s panic and rage.
“Holy shit,” Clint murmured, glancing up at Dira. She said nothing, simply staring back at him, blue eyes slicing through his anger effortlessly.
Slowly, eventually, Lucy calmed. Her shoulders came inward, and she bowed her head, sniffling softly. Ridder let her go, and she turned away from them all, wiping at her eyes. She didn’t see him unfurl his hands, or his skin, angry and bright red, or the emblem from the cuffs burned into the flesh of his palms.
Chapter Nine
2016 CE
Oxford, England
Turbulence jostled Lucy as she shakily sat back down in her seat. Her eyelids were heavy, and she shivered. Clint stared at her, his dark blue eyes wide with confusion and astonishment. There was no way Lucy could have faked that. The way her eyes had glowed that ethereal blue, or the way the air had filled with power, or how that emblem had appeared on the bracelets in the same glowing blue as her eyes. They looked normal now. But this was anything but normal.
“Ridder,” Dira murmured, glancing at her brother’s hands. He gave a shake of his head and curled his fingers toward his palms, hiding the burns, but not before Lucy looked over.
“What’s wrong?”
Clint watched as the other man hesitated only a moment before holding his hand out, showing her his burned palms.
Her face, which had finally been regaining a bit of color, drained again. Her eyes filled immediately with tears as she stared at the scorched skin, and the seal perfectly branded into his palms.
“Oh God, Ridder. I’m -I’m so sorry,” Lucy choked out. And she should be. She should never have touched the damn things in the first place. Clint bit back a scowl as the tips of her fingers gently grazed the edge of the angry red burns.
“The same thing happened to the man who grabbed her last night,” Dira said. They turned their attention to her and away from Lucy’s quivering lip and tears.
“It did?”
Dira nodded.
Kreager frowned, angling his body in his chair to settle in a bit more. “What is it?” he asked his sister.
“We don’t know.” Dira sighed softly and shook her head, crossing her arms back over her chest as she leaned back against the wall. She stretched her long legs out in front of her and crossed her ankles. Clint tried not to stare. “But Jay was able to find a match online. In a manuscript, from the late fifteenth century, housed in the Bodleian Library at Oxford. So that’s where we’re going.”
Clint’s undisguised excitement was mirrored in Lucy’s eyes as both their heads snapped up.
“Nerds,” Jay murmured with a small laugh.
Lucy looked back down at Ridder’s palms, which were still cupped delicately in her own. “He should see a doctor first.”
“No need.” Dira gave Kreager a firm nod. The second eldest of the four stood and moved over to Lucy and Ridder.
He took his brother’s hands from Lucy’s, then reached into the collar of his soft Henley shirt. The thick chain he tugged on was the same gleaming silver as the cuffs. Perhaps of the same origin. Clint watched in awe as a large silver medallion swung free, hanging just past the middle of his sternum. Lucy, of course, was unable to resist touching a shiny artifact, whatever the consequences.
“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed examining the twisting branches and roots of what Clint immediately recognized as Yggdrasil, the world tree. It was carved out of a sheet of silver, delicate woven roots shifting to Norse knotwork that lined the edge of the circle. The tree itself looked as if it had been set over a circular slab of raw stone, or some sort of gem. Riveted, Lucy trailed the pad of her index finger over the rune engraved in the small trunk of the tree.
“It means healing,” Kreager said. “Here, watch.” Clint was watching as well. Kreager held the medallion out for Ridder to hold. When the medallion was situated in his palms, Kreager placed his hands under his brother’s, cupping them as Lucy had.
Ridder closed his eyes, body relaxing as much as possible, before taking a deep breath.
Clint had opened his mouth to ask exactly what they were supposed to be watching when the medallion in Ridder’s hands began to glow. The stone set behind the silver tree glowed dully at first, but it brightened and spread until blue light spilled from it. Lucy gasped as the burns on Ridder’s hands glowed as well, bright and beautiful.
The light from the medallion was reflected in her eyes. Her face was filled with shock and delighted excitement, and intrigue. And, to Clint’s dismay, so was his own.
The glow only lasted a few moments, and when it had faded, the once angry red, blistered, and burned skin of each hand was now smooth and unblemished save for the faint outline of a dark pink circle.
“Oh my God,” Clint murmured, leaning forward to see better. “Just who the hell are you people?”
***
Lucy clutched one of Ridder’s hands, letting her fingers dance over the freshly healed skin. Ridder’s eyes never strayed from Lucy.
“My name is Mordira,” she said to Clint, “and these are my siblings. The second oldest, our healer, is Kreager. The third born is Ridder.” Her brother nodded, finally looking away from Lucy, and his lips quirked up into a grin as his nonchalant attitude seeped back into being.
“Resident seer,” he said with a shrug. “Most handsome, all-round best of the bunch.” Dira sighed in exasperation and Jay snickered. Despite the urge to roll her eyes, Lucy found herself smiling lightly. His gaze turned to her, and his sly grin slid off a bit, as if he was confused by something he saw in her.
Well, at least it’s better than distrust, she thought, looking away as she felt her cheeks heat under his scrutiny.
“Then to round it out, there’s me. The youngest, and the hunter. Jeger, but you can call me Jay.” She gave a brilliant grin, tossing her braids over her thin shoulders. For the first time, Lucy saw the sharpness behind the grin, the predator hidden beneath friendly, easy demeanor.
“Were you all adopted?” Lucy asked softly.
Kreager sat back down with a heavy sigh. “No. They’re... they are the only family I’ve had since the fire.”
“The fire that killed all of our parents,” Dira explained, and looked away, her defined jaw clenching as she spoke. “Our parents, the first four, were gathered in the great hall. We had come together to celebrate something, I can’t remember what it was. All of us were sent to bed. We were children. I was no older than fifteen.”
Lucy felt the air in the cabin go cold. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself for comfort.
“We woke to the sound of screams and the smell of smoke,” Dira continued. “I was out of the room first, running toward the great hall. And when I got there, it was what the Christians describe as hell on earth. Fire everywhere. Innocents were being burned alive. And my mother was across the hall, trapped along with the rest of our parents. I tried to call out, to get to her. Kreager hauled me back. The roof collapsed and everyone inside the great hall—everyone we had ever known—was gone in a matter of moments.”
