I stepped toward him, hand outstretched as if reaching for a man who had fallen overboard and was drowning. If Val hadn’t found his own forgiveness by now, he certainly wasn’t going to accept my lame absolutions. But still I tried. “I don’t blame you. No one blames you. It wasn’t your fault.”
“No. It was his,” Val hissed through clenched teeth, pointing at Thorin. “Inguz!”
Thorin bowed over, panting and grunting as his shoulders shook. Val turned and met my stare, daring me. He inhaled, preparing to speak another word—the final rune, judging by the satisfied sneer on his face. I closed my eyes and something inside me—Innocence? Hope? Virtue?—withered and died. As the first syllable escaped Val’s lips, I threw myself on him and sent my walls crashing down.
The goddess inside me leapt free, and she rejoiced.
“Do it,” Val snarled as we fell to the cave floor together. “Do it fast.”
“What about all your plans? What about your revenge?”
“If you can make it stop, then do it. End my pain, Solina. You may be the only one who can.”
“Get out, Thorin!” I yelled. “Get Grim and get out now.”
My fire flared, rising hundreds of degrees in an instant. Instead of recoiling, Val cried out and pulled me closer. We both screamed, him begging for it to end, me signaling a fiery release.
Star light,
Star bright,
Supernova,
Goodnight.
Chapter 17
I bolted upright, turned my face into the crook of my elbow, and sneezed hard, twice. I blinked and rubbed my eyes until my vision cleared, not that there was much to see in the gloom. Hazy starlight and a moon half concealed by clouds shone through a pair of glass doors across from me, and the perspective suggested I sat somewhere high up. The Aerie?
I sniffed, rubbed my nose on my T-shirt sleeve, and balled my hands in my lap—a lap filled with... fur? I stroked the heavy covers drawn over my bare legs. The softness beneath my fingertips was, in fact, some sort of animal pelt—something warm, velvety, and dead. “Ugh.” I sneezed again. I kicked off the covers, and chilly air skimmed my legs.
I heard the soft rustle of someone moving nearby. “Sunshine?” Thorin asked, his voice low, quiet, and uncertain. He rose from a chair beside the bed and settled on the mattress beside me. Soft light from a fireplace flickered on his face.
I sat up straighter. “Where are we?”
“I call it Lopteldr. It’s my home.”
My heart stilled. So did my breathing. Bruce Wayne might as well have told me he had brought me to his Bat Cave. “You-Your home?”
“That a problem?”
I cleared my throat. “No. I’m surprised you didn’t take us to New Breidablick.” I was surprised to be anywhere at all, actually. I’d let Sol free and given the fire complete rein. Last time I did that, I’d spent four weeks in some alternate state in which I wasn’t aware of myself.
He found my hand in my lap and twined his fingers between mine. “We can go to New Breidablick if you prefer, but I thought you might like to have a little less company. Fewer people asking questions and demanding answers from you.”
Sharp memories pressed against the thin fabric of my mind, threatening to make me remember, but I pushed against them. I’m not ready to remember. Not yet. “How did we get here? I was sure...” I stopped and swallowed. “I was sure I’d be a star by now.”
Thorin’s silhouette ducked its head. “The geologists will probably say there was an earthquake—something volcanic, maybe. Anyway, there’s a river in Alaska flowing on a different path now. It used to run above the cavern, but there was a cave-in and the river, um, sank, I guess you could say. There’s no more waterfall either, which is a shame. It was a lovely waterfall.”
“Earthquake?” I gasped. “Is that a euphemism for the God of Thunder and his hammer?”
“Someone had to put you out, Sunshine.”
“So you doused me? With a river?”
He ducked his head. “There was a moment when I wasn’t sure it would be enough.”
“You’re not a wolf.”
He looked up and arched an eyebrow, questioning my non sequitur.
“Val didn’t have time to speak the last word, but who’s to say someone else couldn’t finish what he started?”
Thorin scowled. “Someone would have to have his same, specific intent, which is highly unlikely. You, me, and the ravens are the only ones who know what Val was planning.” His lips spread into a suggestive grin. “There are ways you could turn me into your personal, slavering beast, Solina, but you wouldn’t have to use magic runes to do it.”
Fire erupted in my cheeks. I glanced away, unable to meet his eyes. Despite my aversion to the furs, I tugged the bedcovers over my legs and relished the instant warmth. “You don’t believe in heating and air conditioning? This place is an ice box.” I rubbed my arms for emphasis.
Thorin chuckled and stood. “I haven’t been here in weeks. It’ll take some time for the house to come back to life.” He crossed the room, crouched before the fireplace, and tossed in another log.
Mindlessly, I stroked the fur coverings and took in the details of the room, the stone fireplace, the oak paneling, the plain, heavy furniture. “Is this your room?”
Still crouched before the fireplace, feeding more wood to the flames, Thorin glanced back at me and nodded. “It is.”
I patted the mattress. “Why the big fancy bed for a guy who rarely sleeps?”
He cleared his throat. “Beds can be useful for other things.”
A blush erupted on my cheeks, and I quickly changed the subject. “How long have we been here?”
