Page 93 of Soul of Fire

I nearly fell over again.What?

Sigurd reached out. He has returned to Jorgen as well.

I gathered that.I took a swig of water and tried to slow my heartbeat.What do you mean Arne is with them?

There was a beat of silence as Baldur sought more information.They are near the sea. Arne happened upon them. He was quite ill.

I tried desperately to do the math in my head. Today would be the third day—fourth day?—from the mistletoe and the disastrous attempt to reach the Book. Which meant…

He lives, Baldur rumbled reassuringly.Kindra is with him.

Kindra? Revna’s on the continent?

She flew in to find you. She is his mate. Or rather, she will be.

I sat, feeling like the wind had been knocked from me once again.What?

Arne will host Kindra’s mate,Baldur repeated irritably.Keep up.

It’s fucking hard when you keep dropping new revelations on me.I scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to think. Was Arne Chaosborn? Neither he nor my mother had ever said anything about it, but they must have been tested. And if both Edvard and I were Chaosborn…

How?I pushed.

The Norns know all, Baldur said enigmatically. It took all my restraint not to mentally throttle him.

Baldur’s trust in the Norns may be unquestioning, but they’d caused me quite a bit of trouble, and I wasn’t inclined to forgive them if it was they who decreed that Eisa should grow up in that monster’s tavern.

Fuck your Norns.

Baldur rolled his eyes and huffed.Shall I tell them about the handfasting? Kindra wishes for orders.

I don’t—

A bolt of something–excitement maybe, or anxiety–pierced my chest, and I frowned, uncertain what it had come from.

Eisa,Baldur said, growling protectively as he forced me to my feet.

We’re coming.I shot the thought over the mental bridge, now whole and shimmering in my mind as I ran for the hidden entrance to the temple’s lower levels.What is it?

Eisa didn’t reply, and I was already halfway down the spiralling stairs when Baldur whooped with excitement.

The priestesses have the Book.

“Wellthisisn’tominous,”Eisa murmured, the stone hallway of the temple glowing faintly blue and casting Sigrid in an eerie light.

“Your mother always hated it down here,” Sigrid said, leaning heavily on a wooden cane she had produced from somewhere with one gnarled hand. She placed the other on one of the stone doors. It ground open instantly, and I was fairly certain that it would open only for one of the Völva.

“Why?” Eisa was wearing her borrowed dress, and I had to discreetly adjust myself as I thought about lifting it over her heated center the other night. About how she felt coming around my fingers. How I’d spilled myself like a boy, unable to hold back with her need pulsing into me.

You alright?Eisa’s voice was teasing, and I knew Idunn must have told her exactly what I was thinking of.

I sent her a mental image of how I’d like to take her tonight–naked under the starlight in the damp grass, my face between her thighs.

She stumbled once, and I caught her by the waist.Are you?

She glowered at me, and I had to work to restrain my grin.

“You’ll see,” Sigrid said, completely unaware—I hoped—of our silent conversation. Her voice echoed strangely as she lit the torches at the entrance to the priestess’ archive with a snap of her fingers. “She said it made her skin itch.”