Heroes (Eirik Book 2) (33 page)

“She does when there’s an emergency,” Zack cut her off and lifted me onto the stage. He followed. “She has something important to share.”

Mrs. Mouton harrumphed and glared at him. Then her attention shifted to the audience, her smile brittle.

“And so my fellow sisters and brothers, let’s welcome the chairman of the Guild, Doctor Elias Babatunde.” She clapped, but the buzz of my news was spreading fast and the audience was busy talking, so the applause was only half-hearted. “Everyone calm down.”

Doctor B left his seat, so I focused on him.

“Five more Witches were just attacked. One survived, but I don’t know about the others. We have to do something to stop this, Doctor B.”

“Of course, my dear.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and led me to where Mrs. Mouton stood, glowering. He hugged her.

“Thank you, Vivian, for that nice welcome.” He took the mic.

The noise level in the auditorium had risen, but the moment he stood in front of the podium, the audience responded and silence followed. Zack nodded encouragingly. I wished Eirik were here. He made everything seem so easy. I grabbed the runic clasp and my eyes met Nara’s. She sat on the edge of the stage, her feet dangling. For once she wasn’t smirking.

“You’ll be fine,” she reassured me. “Take a deep breath. Rhys went to get Eirik as soon as you mentioned the three old hags. Those were Norns and they are responsible for your rapid memory loss, so don’t worry about it. That’s what they do. Most people rarely see them in their true form, let alone remember it, so chin up.”

Interestingly, her words gave me more confidence.

“Dark times are ahead of us, but we must stay calm, stay focused, and work together for the betterment of our community,” Doctor B said. “There’s no need to panic. We lost five of our sisters in a gruesome way a few nights ago and our community grieves with their families because every Witch lost means there is less magic in the world, especially when there are no bodies to consecrate. Without consecration, our people will lose access to their powers, which flows back to earth.”

I stared at him with wide eyes. I’d been so busy thinking about re-animation of corpses I never thought of what it meant to the Witches.
I could feel the things the redhead Witch had told me grow hazy. I looked at her sketch and hoped Doctor B would hurry up.

“And now, this young lady has brought us more bad news, and we would like to hear what she has to say.” A murmur rose among the audience. Doctor B waited and silence followed. “Most of you may not know who she is, but I do. I’ve had a chance to visit with Celestia, and her visions are never wrong. She has helped local detectives solve crimes and even prevented some. So, please, let’s listen to what she has to say.” He gave me the mic and nodded encouragingly.

My mind went blank. I looked at Zack, panic creeping in. “I can’t remember.”

“Yes, you can,” he said, squeezing my arm. “Take a deep breath and focus. I’ll fill in the blanks or prompt you when necessary.”

I nodded.

He grinned. “Remember the first time you had your vision and you were panicking so much you couldn’t formulate your thoughts? That’s what’s happening. I know because you’re clenching your hands and chewing on your lips. Take a deep breath, focus, and do it.”

“You can do it, Little Witch,” Nara added. “Unless you want to wait for Eirik to hold your hand.” This time she smirked, and I knew she was goading me.

I didn’t need anyone holding my hand. I glared at her, opened the pages with the sketches, and started talking. I stumbled a few times and Zack helped, but no one spoke as I gave descriptions of the Brit, the woman leader of his group, and the three Witches.

“I’m sorry I can’t remember the other two or some of the things they said. The goddesses of destiny, Norns, erased some of my memories.” That garnered a buzz. Everyone stopped talking when I repeated what the redhead had said.

“They sacrificed their lives to protect one of us, and she begged me to find this young Witch who can talk to the Norns and protect her. If they are willing to do this, then we must join the fight. Or this band of killers will continue hurting our community until they find her.” I stared at the audience. “Please, we need to find her and help her. My grandmother used to tell me stories about the Guild and how powerful it once was. They made an official Call whenever a Witch was in trouble, and our people came from around the world to help. We should try one. We must make one.” A buzz swept the room, some people nodding, but the majority looked skeptical. I sighed.

“Do you want to add anything else?” Doctor B asked.

I shook my head and gave him the microphone. Then I remembered something I’d meant to ask him. “If anyone has had visions in the last several weeks about this, can we ask them to share what they saw?” I whispered. “Maybe they’ll see why the Call is important.”

“Wonderful suggestion.” Doctor B smiled and lifted the mic to his lips. “If anyone has had visions of these killings or of the grave robbers, please stand up and share it.”

Murmurs followed as people rose to their feet.

“I had one last night,” one woman yelled.

Doctor B gave Zack the mic, and he jumped down and ran to pass it to the woman. He murmured to her.

“Thank you, young man,” she said. “My name is Claudia Wren from Kissimmee, Florida. In my vision, I saw one of our sisters die on a rooftop.”

“Perch Lockwood from Alabama,” a man with a bushy salt and pepper beard said. “I saw two being attacked in the woods.”

“Three were attacked in my village,” a woman wearing a print dress with a matching scarf wrapped around her head said. “I am visiting relatives in New Orleans, but I’m from Trinadad.”

More stood. They had come from all over the world.

A striking Goth girl with green eyes, black and red hair, and multiple piercings on her ears and nose stood. “My name is Gina. We are from Ireland,” she said in a heavy accent. “My sister”—she looked down at a brunette who looked pale and sickly—“Rita is a powerful Seeress. She saw a great battle between these people hunting our people and us. Her visions brought us to New Orleans, and we hope we can find this young Witch. You see, she will heal my sister.”

A tall man with silver hair stood and cleared his throat. He was in the middle of the row, so Zack used the others to pass him the mic.

“I don’t know if my vision has anything to do with the dead Witches, but that young girl was in it.” He pointed at me. “I saw a school, a castle where my grandchildren go to school to master their gifts from the gods. And… and…” He started to weep. “They are happy and free. They don’t hide who they are or what they can do. And their teachers are from all over the world.”

A younger woman consoled the old man and gave the mic back to Zack. More people shared their visions. Some involved the Witches dying, others were about the missing dead Witches coming back to life, and some talked about a better future. I kept thinking about the old man’s vision of a school for Witches. That would be awesome.

“I know the Witch they are after,” a familiar voice called out from the back of the room when the sharing stopped.

Eirik.

I searched for him, even stepped away from the podium and peered at the audience. He was back. Was Hayden with him? I started toward him, completely forgetting I was on stage and several feet separated me from the floor. He went into hyper speed and caught me.

“I got you,” he whispered, burying his face in my nape.

He did have me. Always. I wound my arms around his shoulders and looked behind him, but I couldn’t see Hayden. “Where is she?”

“With Zack in the foyer. She is one annoyingly stubborn Immortal.”

“I knew you would find her,” I whispered. “I just didn’t know it would be this fast.”

“How did he move like that?” someone yelled, reminding us we weren’t alone.

“Who is he?”

More questions followed, as the crowd grew restless.

“Here we go again,” Eirik murmured and set me down.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll explain everything later. Right now, I want you to trust me. Go with them.” Hayden and Zack were finally inside the auditorium. Her hair was a bit messier than usual and her dress was a little wrinkled, but she was fine. Eirik waited until I was hugging her, then went invisible and reappeared on stage. Just like that, he had everyone’s attention.

“I got us seats,” Zack said.

I dragged my eyes from the stage, where Eirik was shaking Doctor B’s hand, and went with them.

~*~

EIRIK

“Doctor B, I’ve heard so much about you from Celestia.” Since the microphone was on, my voice reached everyone, including the girl I was crazy about. She turned and smiled, but I saw the worry in her eyes. She was probably worried about me. Watching her earlier while she’d talked about her vision and cried had been hard, but I knew she would not have appreciated my interruption. I was still pissed at myself for not being there for her when she needed me. I didn’t know if it was possible to open a portal to an astral image, but I would have tried it to stop the Norns from screwing with her memories.

“Are you really from the other realm?”

“Yes, sir. May I talk to your people?”

Doctor B chuckled. “Of course. It would be an honor.”

I faced the audience and wondered how soon it would be before the Norns arrived. I was about to expose them and our world in ways they couldn’t possibly imagine.

“My name is Eirik Baldurson, son of Baldur, God of Light, Purity, and Fairness.”

The people in front looked at each other. I glanced around, expecting the Norns to appear and drag me to their home. They didn’t. Either they didn’t know or they didn’t care.

“You’re probably thinking I’m crazy,” I continued. “I’m not. The gods you evoke whenever you need help or guidance are real. Sometimes they listen and sometimes they don’t, but they are real. They just don’t live here. Whatever culture you come from, whatever gods you call out to for help, they can hear you and if they choose, they guide you.” I had them. No one made a sound. “For centuries, the knowledge of the gods has been hidden from you and only passed down to a select few. Things are about to change. I’m not a teacher and cannot explain to you everything you need to know, but one day, we will have special schools for your children to learn about the gods, magic, healing, and divination without worrying about the rest of the world finding out they are Witches, burning them at stakes, or condemning them. You will not need schools like this, and your sons and daughters, brothers and sisters will decide for themselves whether they want to stay Mortal, like you, or become Immortal, like me.”

A buzz spread through the audience. I hadn’t planned on giving them details about Valkyries, Grimnirs, and Norns, just an overview of who I was to open their eyes to the supernatural world.

“Yes, I’m an Immortal. That means if you cut me, I heal. If you break my bones, they reform. If you snap my neck, the tissues regenerate.” There was no need to tell them that chopping off my head or ripping my heart from my chest would end my physical existence. “I wish I had time to prove to you that I am the real deal, but I plan to work with the Guild and attend more meetings like this. Right now, there’s a young and powerful Seeress out there that needs your protection. She is the reason why the Witches are getting killed. Once you accept that I am telling the truth, you’ll understand why she is important. Does anyone have an athame?”

Almost every hand shot up. I liked these Witches. I engaged speed runes and appeared beside a woman in a wheelchair. The audience gasped by what they perceived as my disappearance and sudden reappearance.

“Is it very sharp?”

The woman in the wheelchair hesitated. “Very.”

“Good.” The silence was deafening. I shrugged off my coat, flexed my wrist, and separated
Gunnlögi
from my arm.

Another wave of murmur rippled through the crowd. I wondered how many would leave believing I was a trickster and how many would take me seriously. It didn’t matter as long as the Norns heard about it and Raine received some help.

“Before I continue, you can share what I’m about to show you with the Witches community only. Not the general public.

My eyes met Celestia’s in the crowd. I could always find her no matter how crowded or big a place was. I winked, and she shook her head.

I placed the mace on the floor and extended my wrist, but the woman refused to cut me. The man seated behind her wasn’t shy. Instead of aiming for my wrist, he aimed for my bicep. The blade sunk in, hitting the bone. Gasps filled the audience, and someone screamed. The pain was brief because I’d already engaged the runes.

“I’m okay,” I called out and stepped back.

Moving to the center of the aisle where everyone could see me, I gripped the handle of the athame and pulled. Blood gushed out of the wound. I lifted my arm so they’d see the wound close and the bleeding stop. I engaged the right runes, and the blood dried up and disappeared. I wiped the blood off the athame, handed it to the man, and walked back to the stage.

Someone had placed a glass and a pitcher of water on the podium. I poured some, sipped, and studied the faces in the audience. I removed the mic from its cradle and walked to the edge of the stage.