Jewels and Feathers (Race Games 3)

CHAPTERTWELVE

BRIN

Brin sat in the armchair in Munin’s apartment, watching the others move about as if this place was their prison. Eirik was busy flipping through things on the tiny magic tablet in his hands, his eyes often there or on their host. He was a strange Viking, Eirik. Born closer to these times, he was better adapted for the technology Munin talked about. It was a smart decision to choose him for that task, just as it was a smart decision to cast himself as a Navigator. Though having to navigate by the stars was likely not how the task would go, he could read a map better than any man, no matter what the key looked like. Munin had already gifted him with some maps to study, so he’d be familiar with modern variations. Humanity was not so difficult. Though the world had changed, maps were still easy enough to read, though they looked far more precise than any hand drawn map from his day.

Vidar moved about the abode as if he couldn’t get comfortable no matter where he stood. Brin didn’t understand his constant need for brooding. Vikings were strong, yes, but they didn’t have to be angry every waking moment. Vidar moved about like a caged animal, as if this were the worst place he could be. It wasn’t. Brin knew that firsthand.

The crashing waves slamming against the side of the ship. The sound of a siren’s song in the distance, signaling they were in trouble. The garbled roar of the creature beneath the waves closing in. The shouting of his men as he lifted his axe and prepared to battle.

Brin blinked away the memory he’d rather not think on. Remembering your death when you were now able to draw breath again was a strange thing, but something they all shared. Despite none having addressed it, Munin and all three of the Vikings had memories of their death. For that reason, Brin knew it was some sort of fate that brought them together. Whatever had urged Munin to come to Valhalla for her team had been like tethers. Perhaps Odin was gifting her. Perhaps Freya was. Either way, Brin wouldn’t find himself questioning his purpose here. He knew his purpose was the beautiful raven sitting at the table reading a book. The language wasn’t in English. Nor was it in Scandinavian. Still, the script was beautiful across the cover, enough that Brin was curious despite never being a Viking intent on learning such pretty prose.

It had been a few days since the assassination attempt and so far, no one had tried again but Brin knew it was coming. Likely, they were simply trying to think of a successful way to murder his raven, but they would fail. She was a mighty foe alone. Wherever she may fail, he would be there to support her.

With that thought, Brin wrinkled his brow as a thought entered his mind. If the Race Games were so dangerous, they would need to work as a team. The larger the team, the more difficult it would be to work in synchrony. That’s how it always worked for battle. Why wouldn’t it work the same for these Race Games?

“Shouldn’t we practice?” Brin asked out loud, interrupting everyone’s personal monologue.

Erik glanced up from the magic tablet, an image of the front door on the screen. Security systems, he’d explained when Brin had asked. After the assassin, it was his way of protecting Munin. Brin couldn’t begin to understand the “cameras” or “alarms” that Eirik had tried to explain, but he trusted the man to know what he was talking about. His strength was different than Brin’s but that was okay. A diverse team was a successful one.

Vidar didn’t even look up from where he was watching the TV. It took everything in Brin to stop calling it a magic box when he couldn’t find anything behind the thing besides a rubber-like cord. When Eirik explained what it was, he’d taken to using the proper name only so he didn’t sound like an idiot calling everything magical.

When Munin glanced over at him, Brin shrugged. “I can’t say I know anything about the horseless wagon we’re to drive,” he murmured. “But perhaps, it’s best to know what’s going on before we enter the race.”

Vidar snorted. “If she doesn’t get killed before that.”

Anger filled Brin’s throat at Vidar’s words. What an arrogant argr! Before Brin could tell him precisely what he thought, Eirik spoke up.

“Hopefully, the security system will help the apartment, but the complex isn’t secure. This won’t keep out supernatural creatures. It’ll only give us warning before they arrive.” Eirik frowned. “Perhaps, we should think about moving somewhere else in the meantime?”

Setting down her book, Munin focused on the three of them. “They won’t be able to kill me here. Most don’t possess the proper tools and will want to save it for the track. Even then, I know many a secret of the racers. They will be afraid I’ll release the secrets should they fail, so they’ll want to strike fast before I can speak.”

“That’s even more reason to practice,” Brin pointed out.

She waved his words away. “I’m not trying to win, warrior.”

“But we must work as a team, no?” he asked, his eyes trailing over to where Vidar sat lost in thought. There was a sketchbook open in his arms now, one he rarely opened around them, but Brin had caught him sketching in it a few times. He wasn’t even sure where the man had gotten the small book.

Muni frowned at his words but when she didn’t speak, Brin asked, “why bring us back if not for us to help? A successful raid is done as a team.”

“He’s right,” Eirik jumped in. “If we’re going to use our skills, then practice, at least with working in a team, is a necessity. I suspect we’ll be chaos otherwise.”

His eyes trailed over to Vidar as well, obviously thinking what Brin was. Vidar was currently their weak link, not because he was physically weak but because he was clinging to his anger and whatever brought it forth. A good Viking was both mentally and physically strong. Whatever was getting under Vidar’s skin was making him forget that.

Pursing her lips, Munin finally nodded her head a few seconds later. “Okay. That all makes sense.”

“But where will we go?” Eirik asked, almost interrupted by the scoff Vidar released under his breath. “The apartment isn’t exactly the best place to race.”

Munin pulled out a small device from her pocket, the face lighting up just like Eirik’s magic tablet. This one was smaller, however. The raven smiled at them before tapping on the face. “I think I know someone. . .”