The Beast of Salt (Saga of the Gods #1)

30. Avina

30

AVINA

November 8th, Year 100, 9th Era

Fjell Mountain, Salt Province

“ A llow me.” She holds out her hand, palm up.

He does not hesitate and confidently encloses his inked hand over her lithe fingers.

“What do you have in mind?” He keeps his voice low.

She closes her eyes, recalling the sensation she felt the first time she touched the sapphire pendant hung around her neck. The trickling sensation creeps over her skin and spreads to her fingertips.

When she opens her eyes, he vanishes alongside her. A thin, ethereal shimmer shines around the outline of his form.

It worked!

“Do not let go of me, or you will become exposed.” She warns, somehow knowing if she releases him, that her seidr will no longer extend to him.

“Understood. Lead the way.”

She squeezes his hand to reassure herself that he is still at her side.

Avina feels every muscle in her body tense, from the slumbering monster of the Abyss to her poor visibility of herself and Sigvid .

They crouch and take carefully placed steps across the expanse of grass toward the stream. Earth-shaking snores rattle the ground, nearly knocking her over into him. Thankfully, he catches her shoulders and steadies her legs.

When they reach the water’s edge, they halt, staring at the filter dam. Avina searches the water for any sign of anything odd or out of place. Her hand presses reassuringly over her bosom, where the sapphire stone pulses against her skin. She feels guided closer to the dam against the slits for the filter.

There!

Avina catches sight of a glint of metal reflecting below the water's surface. “Do you see something there?” She whispers. “By the filter inlet.”

His hold tightens while he leans as far toward the water as he can without releasing her. “Shit, you are right. Let me lean you closer to look.”

“Careful, if we are visible, the Ulv will sense us.” Waking the creature now would be disastrous.

He leans her body over the edge of the river. “Shit-” Avina slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp.

She grabs his forearm, and with a quick tap tap, he yanks her back to flat ground. She breathes into his ear: “A body.”

“Keep a hold of me. I will retrieve it.” He growls determinedly.

Sigvid’s thick foot connects with the freezing water. She watches as he wades out until his long arms can reach the corpse. He wriggles the body through the water, feet first.

The remains are half out of the current when Sigvid steps back onto the embankment, and the mud collapses under his weight. She hears the squelching of his legs sinking. Water splashes all over the front of her dress as his foot slips in his attempt to steady himself. Before she can process the chaos, they lose physical contact.

No!

Sweat trickles from her forehead as the world slows to a standstill.

Sigvid fully materializes, muddy, wet, and murderous with himself.

And then the Ulv awakes with a deafening growl. The gigantic wolf stumbles to its paws, shaking the ground.

“Fuck, stay invisible and pull this guy out. I will distract it.” He jumps out of the water

“Over here!” He runs through the trees, leading the Ulv away from Avina.

Maeve Goddess of Wisdom, I beseech thee. Protect Sigvid and allow him to return to Blackwood at my side. I live to one day sleep with the stone through your Golden Gates.

Okay, now, to pull this person out of the water.

Great, they’re bigger than me.

She exhales and yanks on the legs. As she does, she can see some fluids and bits of skin slither through the filter into the city’s clean water supply.

I am going to vomit .

She holds back the bile in her mouth.

The people of Toftlund have been drinking bits of this person. No wonder they are ill.

As she gets all but the head onto the land, a fragment of his skin sloughs off into her hand. Avina heaves so intensely that she tastes the biscuit she ate earlier.

Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick.

She tosses the chunk of skin onto land, shivering when it leaves her palm. Just as she manages to set the decomposing body onto the bank, a great roar rumbles behind her in the trees. She turns in time to see Sigvid burst through some bushes with the Ulv hot on his tail.

“Look!” He hollers, waving his arms. “We discovered what you have been guarding!”

The Ulv snarls, revealing teeth as sharp as swords. It lunges at him in time for Sigvid to dive out of the way, his axes unsheathing in the roll. With a roar, the Ulv stomps around in a circle while the Salt Prince maintains his position underneath its belly.

Avina returns to the remains, nauseous from the smell and mushy appearance. Now that she can see the details up close, she can determine the person is male. Judging by the armor, he must have been a warrior. He seems young, a boy not much older than Thora.

Could we have solved Sven’s mystery, too ?

She catches a flicker of metal under his arm and removes a medallion roughly engraved with a protection rune from his neck.

Sigvid will know what this necklace means.

Tucking the medal in the pocket of her gown, she searches for him. A horrifying realization sets in as she can only hear Ulv’s snarls.

“Sigvid!” She bellows over the clearing despite the act drawing attention to her location.

The Ulv snorts in her direction, his paws pounding against the earth as he shifts to the river. She creeps away from the corpse while the monster sniffs at the frosted grass, stalking where she stood.

Splayed out on the ground lies Sigvid. She bolts across the plain, careful to stay on her toes. When she reaches him, he is groaning. Deep gouges crisscross his shoulder and back from the Ulv’s deadly nails. Blood stains the grass underneath him.

He flinches when her hand brushes his chest.

“Shhh. I need to get you out of here.” She touches his hand, and he vanishes.

With great difficulty and much praying to the Briny God for strength, she shoulders his weight. She shifts him out of range of the wolf monster, still sniffling near the corpse.

“Did you see that?” He groans through his wounds. “It did not attack the remains. I bet that is the treasure it is guarding. Fuck, that means this is not an accident, and this is a murder.” He whispers to Avina as he twists his neck to eye the creature.

She nods, having the same thought that the killer summoned the Ulv. “Let’s put some distance, and then I’ll bandage you.”

Once the Ulv’s roars and frantic pantings fade into the forest, she helps him settle onto the ground.

“Here,” she tosses him the medallion, “this was on the corpse.”

“Fuck,” he rests his head against the birch trunk at his back. “He was one of my Drengr in training. Kar’s son Sven is the only one missing.”

The reality of Sven’s gruesome fate hangs thick like a storm cloud between them. Sigvid bundles his torn shirt, slamming it to the ground. Avina gapes, unsure if she will grow accustomed to his muscled chest and inked black art .

When his cool eyes find her gawking, she swiftly begins cleaning his wounds.

“Who would kill Sven?” She asks. “And then drag his body up here?”

“I have a notion.”

“Who?”

“Who do you think?” The snarl he emits forces her to jerk her hands away from his wounds. “Thrain or one of his goons. This whole incident reeks of my brother.” His knuckles whiten over the medallion.

Avina twirls a curl absentmindedly. Thrain, looking almost exactly like Sigvid, disorients her brain. She understands that his Sacred Stone power forces her to see him as the epitome of trust, but that knowledge does little to pierce the bubble of his illusion.

Or of Sigvid as an honorable person.

“When I finish wrapping your wounds, we must hasten back to Toftlund, or we may lose what remains of Sven to the elements.”

Thankfully, his bleeding ceases as she tends to him. She deftly knots the final scrap of fabric from his tunic around his torso. Fire ignites in her stomach while her fingertips trace the outline of his abdomen.

“Thank you for mending me.” His devilish smirk catches her off guard, and she recalls in vivid detail the night in Scarwood when she drank his hot seed down her throat. Heat flushes across her chilly cheeks.

He slides a cold, rough hand into the bodice of her gown. Her heart pumps an erratic rhythm as he massages her breasts, his thumb stroking her hard nipple. Just as the moan she is wrestling with threatens to expose itself, he withdraws her sapphire pendant.

“I know you took this from me. Likely when we arrived home?”

She shifts her weight, nodding curtly.

There's no point in denying it.

“I am sorry for not explaining the Ridge Sacred Stone sooner.” Sincerity permeates his rare apology.

The sapphire glows between his fingers as if sensing its existence.

She is unsurprised.

In her heart, she knows his words to be true.

“And I see you have figured out its amplification powers.” He drops the stone, allowing it to nestle atop her bodice. “We need to walk as we speak.”

They continue along the dirt path, following the river. Avina cannot contain the questions burning through her mind anymore.

“Why did it call to me? You did not seem surprised at my ability that night we… after the ice,” she shakes away the memory, “even though it is not in the three provinces.”

“Long ago, when Treland was one unified country, a Keeper maintained all three Sacred Stones combined. The gods granted this individual the power of invisibility to protect the seidr of the stones.” He strokes his braid while he speaks. “Safeguarding the Keeper is the Guardian—an individual with immense strength who could defend the gods’ power on our plane.”

“When the Great War divided the country in three, the Ridge maintained the Keeper bloodline while the Guardians were in Salt. The Guardian and the Keeper broke the stones and redistributed them to each province.”

The stories of the Keepers and Guardians are told in the Ridge, even if no one took stock of them.

“The stone called to you because you are to protect it and, by extension, the Salt and Timber stones.” He continues through his grinding teeth, his jaw set as he prepares to speak again. “And I am to protect you…as your Guardian.”

She wants to snort at the prospect of Sigvid protecting her life when he has spent the last three years actively trying to end it.

Avina stops in her tracks. “How do you know all of this anyway?”

“Knowledge passed down from Guardian to Guardian. We have used any means necessary to protect and learn all we can about the stones and those who protect them.”

“Do you have all of the stones?”

Is that what the other compartments of the silver chest hold? Ancient runes decorated the exterior, meaning it must have been the device the old Keepers used to store them.

To think she protects a piece of her country’s history.

“No, I do not possess all the stones.” Bitterness drips from his tone. “ I have the Salt and Ridge stones. The chest you found is the original one used by the Keepers.”

“It would seem the legends are all true. The Salt Province does seek to obtain all three stones to rule Treland.” She mutters under her breath.

“No, Avina. Sabelina gave Ornolf the Ridge stone for protection.”

Yet again, she knows he isn’t lying and that the story of Princess Sabelina offering the stone to a Salt Prince for protection is historical. The Ridge stone pulses, and she can sense the reassurance of its seidr .

She finds Sigvid’s eyes, and the tension in her upper back eases.

“Might I ask, why did you store this in your garden shed?”

“No one has found the chest since I placed it there ten winters ago.” He shrugs.

She eyes him suspiciously. “Seriously? Your gardener or a housekeeper didn’t find them?”

“Do I look like someone who employs a gardener or a housekeeper?”

“In the future, Guardian, please don’t stow away the Sacred Stones in such an obvious location.”

“Storing them is not part of my job description, Keeper. I do believe their next secure location would be your choice.” His smug grin is both infuriating and endearing.

“What an afternoon.” She laughs breathlessly.

Avina is overwhelmed with the stress from the Arena escape to arriving in Toftlund. Yet, standing on the slope gazing up at Sigvid, she knows this is where she needs to be.

He grasps her shoulders, staring longingly at her. “You were amazing with the Ulv and removing Sven’s body to safety.” He shakes his head with a growing smile. “I am proud to have fought with you at my side.”

She beams up at him. Warmth spreads through her chest and into her soul. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his tickly bearded cheek, leaving him astonished.

“No one has ever said they were proud of me,” she breathes. “And I don’t think I’ve ever actually wanted someone to say those words until now.”