The stars above dimmed as the paths through the great thicket of roots seemed to shift and change in the darkness, revealing a scarred black tear in the face of the tree. The opening looked more like a wound, a mighty rip, and a powerful force emanated from it, blowing a noxious hurricane wind from the shaft. Loki put one hand on the torn bark, for a moment he paused as if to turn and bid farewell, but he did not. Instead he bit his lip and cast himself into the void. The black fury billowed once more from the hole, as if consuming the dark god of mischief only increased its power.
Freya was thrown to the ground as the earth heaved. The heavens went dark and the blackness spread all around her. “Loki!” she called. There was no answer. She closed her eyes and rode out the storm as the fury enveloped her like a tornado, swirling in all directions. Finally the hurricane stopped, and when she opened her eyes the tree was whole once more.
She picked herself up and dusted off her knees. “Ingrid! Are you and Tyler okay?”
“We’re here!”
Freya ran toward the sound of their voices.
Ingrid was out of breath. “I found him on the path. But he hadn’t gone beyond the first gate yet. Hurry, it’s almost daylight. The Covenant!”
“What about Lionel?” Freya asked.
“I couldn’t find him. But if Loki is gone from here then Lionel should be on his way to Helda as he used to be. And without the corruption in his soul.”
“Are we going home now?” Tyler asked.
“Yes. Hold my hand and don’t let go.”
The little boy looked frightened, and Freya remembered that he did not like to be touched; but after an internal struggle he took Freya’s hand and, in the other, held Ingrid’s.
They walked like that, with the child between them, until they were back in the house.
chapter forty-six
The Judgment of
the Council
Joanna saw them emerge from the front door of Fair Haven. She ran to Tyler, enveloping him in a bear hug. “You did it,” she said to her girls in awe. She had forgotten how strong they were, had forgotten in the years of living quietly that her children were formidable and ferocious. “You did it.”
“Yes,” Freya said, walking over to Killian and taking his hand. His leg was still wrapped in the tourniquet she had made. “But who knows where Loki will end up next.”
“It’s all right, he won’t be free for very long,” a new voice said.
Ingrid looked up. “Dad?”
A man stood quietly in the shadows. He was tall, gray-haired, and handsome, but his face was weary and his beard a tad unkempt. He was wearing a worn cardigan and gray slacks, the academic’s uniform. Freya hugged herself tightly but in the end she ran to him as Ingrid had done.
“My girls.” It was all Norman Beauchamp could say at the moment as he embraced them and even Joanna had to blink back tears.
“Skadi, you’re crying,” Norman teased.
“Oh, Nordj, stop.” She sighed.
The god of the seas released his daughters and looked at them seriously. “Your mother told me you had gone after Loki on your own. I was worried, but you have both accomplished more than I hoped. Midgard is whole once again.”
“Where did you go, Dad? Did you really get an audience with the White Council?”
“Yes. I went to the oracle and spoke to Odin himself. Once I deciphered the code on those plans Erda sent me and saw that the roots of the tree were in Fair Haven, and when I saw those reports of oceanic disturbance, I began to think that perhaps the toxin of Ragnarok had been found in our world, which could only mean one thing. Loki had escaped from his chains and had come to unleash his vengeance upon us.”
“Great minds think alike,” Freya said, nudging Ingrid.
Norman sighed. “I bring other news as well. The Council has been aware of your flagrant and repeated violations of the magical restriction that has been in place since the Salem trials.”
“Oh, great.”
“What are they going to do?” Ingrid asked fearfully.
“It’s very simple, really,” Norman said. “To live in this world, you must continue to abide by its rules and the laws of its citizens, just as we have always done. If no charges are brought against you, the restriction will be lifted and you may continue to practice magic as long as you do not draw any more attention to your supernatural abilities. This will apply to all of our kind who are still on this side of the Bofrir bridge.”
Freya exchanged a smile with Ingrid and Joanna. They could practice magic again! Before they could celebrate, Norman raised a hand. “But if you are arrested, tried, and proven guilty in a court of law, you will be found in breach of the restriction and you will both be sent to the Kingdom of the Dead for ten thousand years in service to Helda.”
“So if nothing happens, we’re free. We can be witches again, all of us.” Freya smiled, thinking of everything that had been denied them for hundreds of years. She would have to get her broom out of storage and find a decent cauldron that could stand up to the potions she was eager to create.
Her father nodded. “Yes.”
Ingrid shook her head. “But if they bring charges against us and we’re convicted, we go to Helda as slaves.”
“Correct.”
“But what about Loki? He’s still out there.”
“The Valkyrie will find him.”
Freya thought of the woman who had visited the bar looking for Killian right after the holiday, and realized she was from the same tribe as the woman whom she had seen in New York talking to Bran. She remembered how nervous Bran had been that evening, how eager to get away from the Valkyrie. She did not feel as bad now that she knew Loki had been able to fool the fierce warrior maidens as well.
Killian squeezed her hand, but she wasn’t thinking of him or their love right then. Nothing was decided yet. Their fate, once again, was in the hands of the human realm.
chapter forty-seven
Law and Order
The annual library fund-raiser was held at the back garden of the main building, in front of the view that had almost doomed the library’s existence. However, there was no more threat of that happening, as the new mayor was more interested in preserving North Hampton as it was than creating new development. Blake Aland was now building his new condominiums on the far side of town.
Ingrid walked through the party, smiling at her guests, feeling pleased and happy. The exhibit had been praised by art and architectural historians as a significant survey of architectural work. Every major house and project was represented, in prints that were elegantly framed and set on the walls. Freya had talked her into wearing a bright-colored dress with a low neckline, and she wore her hair down for once. She felt light-headed without her strict bun and was surprised to find how long her hair had gotten.
She waved to her sister across the room. Freya was in a liplock with Killian; the two of them were planning a wedding sometime next summer. They should really get a room. Libraries were not hotels.
Her parents were standing politely next to each other by the punch bowl. At least they were being civil. Ingrid wondered how old she would be before she stopped wishing they would get back together.
Her friends were all there: Hudson was roaming the party offering champagne, while Tabitha manned the dessert table with a beaming smile.
“Ingrid?” Matt Noble looked crisp and handsome in a khaki-colored suit, much sharper than his usual rumpled wear. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
She did not blush and took his hand instead. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Likewise.”
“I just wanted to say—”
“Don’t, please,” he said. “You don’t have to keep thanking me every time you see me. I didn’t do anything really.”
Hardly. A few weeks ago the murders had been solved. First, Maura Thatcher had fully recovered and retracted her statement. She had no idea why she had said Joanna Beauchamp had attacked them. Killian had turned in the bloody cap worn by Bill Thatcher, as well as a bloody pile of clothing that he had found in the basement near the incinerator in Fair Haven. The jacket and pants were unmistakably Bran’s, and they were splattered by blood that matched Bill’s and Maura’s.