Page 92 of Soul of Fire

“Magic?” I asked, taking the place she had indicated.

Sigrid winked. “Just a touch, here and there.”

I sat, letting Sigrid brush my hair out. I hadn’t let her do it since I was twelve and had realized the value of keeping my appearance as rough and wild as possible.

Something was nagging at my mind, and Idunn gave me a little mental shove. “Arik said a portion of the Rift had been closed before. The last time there was a blue at Ironholm. Could the Tear have been lost already?”

“I suppose it’s possible.” Sigrid looked thoughtful. “But perhaps we will find answers to that in the Book.”

My heart gave a lurch, and I whirled to catch Sigrid’s wrist. “What book, Mormor?”

She looked down at me, her hand still poised holding the brush. “The Book of Chaos, of course.”

I stood in excitement, and it was enough to get Baldur’s attention as well.We’re coming.

“You have a copy of the Book of Chaos?” I asked excitedly. “Here? I thought the only copy was kept in the palace.”

Sigrid gave me a bemused look, and the brush vanished. “Technically, it is. The only copy, I mean.”

“Then how–”

“We have the original.”

Chapter thirty

Arik

Idon’tcareaboutthe fucking flowers,I grumbled for the tenth time as I moved through the isometric exercises I had performed every day for twenty years.I just want Eisa.

Women care about such things,Baldur insisted sagely.You should care for her.

You’ve been back for a grand total of twelve hours, and you’re already bossing me around.I gave Baldur’s eye ridges a mental scratch. I was so relieved to have him back that I’d gladly let him boss me around every day for eternity.

Just remember that those are your thoughts, not mine, Baldur chuffed, reading my mind. In our time apart, all of the careful mental shields I’d built over two decades of being drage seemed to have crumbled to dust. He was hearing every thought, no matter how mundane, and he had opinions on all of them.

Roses are nice, he decided as I dropped into a plank. The grass was wet, but I couldn’t care less.Or perhaps daffodils.

Daffodils are not a wedding flower.

Why not? They are a flower. This is a wedding.

A sudden jolt of anguish dropped me from my plank.

She cries,Baldur growled with quiet menace.Our mate cries.

She’s with Sigrid,I reminded him, mostly to reassure myself.And she will call for us if she needs us. This is private between them.

There was no crying before we came to this place,Baldur grumbled.

There was actually quite a lot of crying. You were just unconscious for the majority of it.

I should have known you would be useless without me.

I missed you too.I return to my plank, trying to still my mind as I focused on holding my strength through my arms and chest. The burn was a grounding pain that always anchored me when the rest of my life was feeling unsettled.

After three counts of one hundred, I pushed up into a stretch, then rose to stand.

Arne is with Jorgen and Branka.