Empty Altars (15 page)

Freya held out a hand and cupped it to capture raindrops. "When you accompany Valkyries over battlefields to choose warriors for the final battle, it changes your perspective. And then, I have my husband and my two daughters. Nothing's more important to me than they are."

Diana's momentary joy withered. She'd underestimated the sacrifice Freya was making. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you had a family and how hard it must be for you to be without them."

Freya's laugh sounded like golden chimes, soft and melodious. She sipped the water she captured, then said, "Odur takes me so much for granted, it won't hurt him to miss me for a while. And what's a month to a god?"

How could anyone take Freya for granted? Diana didn't believe that. "You're being nice. I miss my home, my routine. You must miss yours too."

Freya's smile grew poignant. "Gods have duties. Everyone here takes them seriously, including my husband and children."

"So everyone's pitching in for the cause." The rain slowed until it was a gentle patter. The clouds parted and a tiny sliver of moon hung in the sky. Diana gazed at it and sighed.

"What's bothering you?" Freya asked. "You're growing restless, I can tell."

Diana blinked. The Norse goddess read her too well. "The moon's waning. In two nights, it will disappear—my time—as Hecate—to prowl the crossroads, to look for souls that should be destroyed and to feed their hearts to my hellhounds."

"Yich!" Freya wrinkled her nose in distaste. "And who are these special people?"

"Child molestors. Rapists. Sadists. Serial killers—the villains who excel."

Her tone wry, Freya said, "I can see how you'd miss that, but your modern news is full of these people. Surely, many survive."

“You watch the news? On TV?”

“When I leave the meadow, which is rare. And you seem to have enough predators to put hellhounds to shame.”

"More than enough of the mediocre."

"Some are worse than they show on the news?"

"Not after I find them."

Freya rubbed her arms. "And you relish this job?"

"For me, it's satisfying—a different kind of hunt to eliminate a different kind of predator."

"But you seem so nice."

"I
am
nice." Diana smiled. "Maybe an overstatement. Just like the moon, I have my dark side."

"That's why you're restless. You're worried that no one will be there to do your job. The predators will strike again." Freya grew serious. "Your modern world has perils of its own."

"Mortals prey on mortals. People mock magic. But I'll only be here one month. When I get back, I'll make up for lost time."

"But there's something else, isn't there?"

"The dark of the moon is witching hours. If Heid has anything planned, I think she'll strike then."

Freya frowned, confused. "I thought you did ceremonies at full moons."

"White magic, yes. Black magic…."

"…I see." Freya glanced upward. No stars twinkled. Clouds churned across the sky, blotting out light.

"We'd better be ready," Diana said.

Inga came to join them. "Ready for what?"

Noir threaded himself around Diana's ankles. She bent to stroke his sleek fur.

"Diana thinks Heid will attack during the dark of the moon."

"But what can Heid do? The rowans protect the village from black magic. Wolfbane hangs from the logs. Every farm family has talismans." Inga counted things off on her fingers. She looked at Diana. "What else is there?"

"Heid won't come to defeat us. She knows the prophecy. This will be for show, to keep us off-balance."

Inga reached for Noir. The cat sensed her fear, Diana knew, and let her hold him. He must like the girl. He'd scratch anyone else. "Will she send more giants?"

How did Diana answer that? She didn't have a crystal ball, and even if she did, she doubted she'd learn anything. "I think she'll use witchcraft. That's what the dark of the moon is about."

"How do we prepare?" Inga clasped and unclasped her fingers, her confidence gone. She looked around the clearing, making sure each talisman was still nailed to its tree.

"We wait for her and defend ourselves." Diana's answer didn't satisfy, she could tell.

Inga pushed past them to stand outdoors. The grass was wet. The air smelled newly washed. Raindrops dripped from leaves. Noir squirmed in her arms and she released him. "I need a walk. Does anyone else?"

"At night?" Freya shook her head. "Too dangerous."

"Not for you," Inga argued. "You could become a cat or an owl."

"For a stroll? I'd take a lantern."

"We'll stay on the path and won't go far. We'll stop at the tall beech."

"It's wet and soggy. The hem of my gown will get ruined." Freya looked at the beautiful material of her long tunic.

Diana shrugged. Sitting and stewing didn't appeal to her. "I'll keep you company. The night's my friend," she told Inga. Noir padded beside her. "Noir's favorite hours too. He'll help steer us. We'll be back soon," she told Freya.

"Are you nuts? I'm not staying here alone. If you're going, I am too." She went inside to fetch lanterns.

They took the path that led away from the village, and as Diana suspected, the romance of a midnight stroll soon dimmed. One lantern kept sputtering out. The other didn't shed much light. The darkness absorbed it. After Inga tripped for the third time and Freya walked into a limb, the goddess snapped, "Give me the lantern. I'll hold it higher."

Not that height would do much good, but Inga obediently handed it over. They went a few steps more when the hem of Inga's dress caught on a fallen branch.

"By the gods…." Freya set the lantern on the ground and was struggling to free it when a twig cracked close by.

Freya jumped. Footsteps scuffled through the wood ahead of them. A light bobbed between pine branches. Inga looked ready to run.

"Shh." Diana put out a hand to still her friends. They stood, holding their breaths, listening intently. More branches broke. Inga ducked close to the ground. Freya followed her. Diana strained to see who was out there.

Noir looked up at her. His yellow eyes gleamed in the lantern light. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

"Go ahead then, but be careful."

He slipped away, his black fur invisible in the shadows. Diana waited. Noir's yowl shattered the silence. A woman screamed. She raced away from them, branches snapping behind her.

No witch then. A witch wouldn't scare so easily.

Noir returned with a patch of fabric clinging to his left, front claw. Inga reached to take it. In the dim light of the lantern, she frowned. "Looks like a bit from a woman's dress."

"Was it one of Heid's followers?" Freya asked.

"A witch wouldn't run from a familiar. Whoever it was must have seen us. She couldn't miss the lantern. She was trying to slip past us by going off the path."

Inga's gaze swept the woods. "Where would she be off to? There's nothing here but trees."

"A longhouse?" Diana asked.

"The only one in that direction belonged to Snorri. The turf shed's the only thing still standing."

"A lover's tryst?"

"This far from the village?" Inga wasn't buying it.

"Should we try to follow her?" Freya asked.

"We'd lose her in the dark." Diana turned in a slow circle. "Where could she have come from?"

"It has to be the village." Inga sounded doubtful. "Or Einarr's farm?"

A bat whooshed overhead. Freya jumped. "Enough! We're going home."

No one argued. Trying to find the woman was a fruitless endeavor. They started back. On the way, Inga said, "The cliffs are protected, right? If someone tried to climb them, she'd struggle, and we'd know."

"That was no witch!" Freya snapped.

"I doubt Heid would use that route anyway," Diana said. "Heid doesn't have to stay in Giantland. She can mingle with mortals in Midgard."

"Like the young girls in the parking lot." Freya grimaced, remembering the pretty teens.

"Heid can go anywhere any time," Diana said. "All she has to do is make a few changes to blend in." Luckily, her coven would stand out wherever they went. Few mortals had seen half-giants or part gods.

Freya stumbled and put out a hand to catch herself. Diana grabbed it. The three women huddled closer together on the path, slapping pine boughs out of their way.

Diana thought of the longhouses scattered outside the village. "Every farmer is protected, right?"

"With talismans." Freya stepped into the clearing of their marble house and sagged with relief. "Thank Woden. I know a spider slid down my gown." She peeked down her bodice to check and pulled out a brown, pine needle.

"How much salt do you have?" Diana asked.

"Salt?" Freya blinked, unsure where Diana was going. "What does that have to do with spiders?"

"Nothing. Salt wards off witches. If you sprinkle it around a perimeter, a witch can't cross it. Except for me."

"And?" Freya spread her hands, exasperated.

"It would protect the farmers."

"We evaporate sea water to make salt," Inga said. "How much do you need?"

"Enough to sprinkle around the perimeter of each farm."

"You've got to be kidding!" Freya threw her arms in the air. "Do you know how much salt that would take?"

"I can use magic. It would speed up the process."

Freya looked dubious.

"At least we can try." Inga rubbed at her face and shook out her skirt. She obviously had no love of spiders either. "We can start first thing in the morning. We'll get up at dawn."

Diana and Freya glanced at each other. Neither goddess liked to be bothered at sunrise, but Inga was right. If salt could form one more barrier for Heid to cross, why not do it?

"You'll have to wake me," Freya said. "I never rise that early."

"Me neither," Diana admitted.

"I do. I'll rouse you both." Inga sounded ready and willing.

"I'm off to rest then," Freya said. "After our lovely walk, I need my beauty sleep."

They headed to their beds. Diana thumped her pillow a little more viciously than she needed to. Beauty sleep indeed! If she slept for twenty-four hours straight, she wouldn't be as beguiling as Freya. And she'd never have as much charm.

She closed her eyes and turned on her side. Noir curled against her. She scratched him behind his ears and listened to his purrs. "You did good tonight," she told him. He opened one, yellow eye. He might pretend that her praise meant nothing, but she knew it did. "Are you coming with us tomorrow?" He turned his head. She took that as a
no
.

Chapter 15

Evaporating water to make salt wasn't as simple as it sounded—even when Diana used magic. It took load after load of water. They'd been at it all day, gathering salt up and sprinkling it around one farm after another. By the time they made their last pile of white crystals, Diana's back hurt. Sweat dripped off her brow. Her skin felt prickly.

She tugged at her jeans, soaked through, to peel them off her flesh. "Maybe we should have called for help."

"I thought about it, but Tyr's working in the blacksmith shop with Olaf today," Freya said. "Something about swords for the warriors. I don't feel safe, having Jorunda come by himself. That leaves Donar."

"Forget that." Diana changed her mind. She'd rather get on all fours and pretend she was a pack mule than call him. "Nothing against Donar, but he always gives me a hard time."

"Welcome to my world," Freya said.

More modern lingo slipped into Freya's speech every day. Diana smiled, but couldn't imagine why Donar would give Freya a hard time. "He pesters you too? I thought I was fair game because I'm Roman."

"No one's as wonderful as Donar—according to him," Freya said. "Maybe he considers Tyr and Woden his equals, but that's about it. He's the biggest and strongest of the gods, and he knows it. He doesn't worry about being modest."

"That makes me feel better. I thought it was only me."

"I should be so lucky. He's harder on you, though." Freya bent to scoop salt into a cloth. She bound it to carry with her. "This is the last farm, thank Woden. Once we do this, we're done."

Inga wiped her forehead. The bodice of her dress stuck to her. The fabric of her skirt clung to her legs. "I didn't realize this would be so hard."

"Neither did I," Freya and Diana chimed in together.

Freya blew a golden curl off her cheek. Even hot and sweaty, she looked gorgeous. Diana could feel herself melt into a salty glob. Strands of hair clumped together. If anyone saw her now, they might mistake her for Medusa. Her stomach rumbled. She licked salty lips. "It's a late supper for us. I'm starving."

"Tyr's invited us to the village to eat," Freya said. "It's his treat for all the work we've done."