Gypsy's Quest Page 8

  The two men left the cottage without another word, leaving me to contemplate the horror of my situation. The trail would get cold if I didn’t act fast but at the same time I wasn’t sure where the sorceress would go; I was postive Adair had done this. What if she took him back to the Otherworld?

  I sat down on the sleeping pallet, my gaze wandering across the floor where Rifak’s little cup and bowl had been overturned. His clothes and toys were strewn in a line from the tiny closet to the front door. Adair had taken some of his things along, giving me hope that he was still alive.

  Kafir came through the door, his red-rimmed eyes going to mine. “Tara seems to think Adair was hiding out during the festival. Apparently she and a friend saw something during the night—‘a ghostlike apparition’ was how she described it.”

  “Where was this apparition?”

  “She didn’t specify. She said she’d be glad to help us search.”

  I bet she would, I thought to myself. A second later I chastised myself for the spiteful thoughts. Tara was my friend and she loved Rifak nearly as much as I did. I was whirling out of control, my thoughts wild, my nerves poised for flight. I wanted to get out of here and on some purposeful trail. But I knew to do so would be pointless until we formed a plan. “I’m sure Adair is long gone. Does she have a house or a place where she lives here in Far Isle?”

  Kafir shook his head. “Last I heard she’d hooked up with Loki. She and her son lived in the Otherworld, but that was years ago.”

  “I know all about the Otherworld and the war there. That’s where I came from.”

  Kafir turned to stare at me. “Are you telling me you were involved in the long ago battle to restore the balance?”

  I nodded. “Rifak’s father…”

  Kafir grabbed my arm. “Rifak’s father, what?”

  “He’s Adair’s son.”

  “Odin save us. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Now I know why she took Rifak.” He stared into space and then turned to me. “That conflict created a new order in the Otherworld. It’s not a place Adair or her son would be welcome.” Kafir looked away for a moment, his brow furrowed. “No. She’s taken him to one of the worlds around here.”

  My mind went to Tara’s description of the different worlds; might she be in Hel or Niflheim--or maybe in Jotunheim where the giants lived? It all sounded like mythology and right now I wanted surety and a plan. “But which one?”

  “That will be for Gypsy to decide.”

  “Gypsy? Your boat?”

  Kafir nodded. “She has a few things about her that I may not have mentioned. We should leave on the next outgoing tide.”

  I had no idea what he meant by this and I was too exhausted to ask any more questions. I rummaged through my things, stuffing them willy-nilly into my pack. I fought the tears that pressed against my eyelids, trying to concentrate on packing. “I’m going to the boat,” I announced a few minutes later, slinging the pack across my back.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I say good-bye to Sven,” Kafir told me, heading out the door behind me.

  I waited for Kafir on deck, my things stowed below. My anxiety had reached a new level and I felt I might faint if we didn’t get underway soon. Kafir jumped on board a short time later and began his preparations. I would have helped but my mind felt scooped out, replaced with bits of frayed string. Once he had the sails up, I came over to help, waiting for instructions. Like a robot I did what he told me and then watched the houses growing smaller. “Where are we going?”

  “Sven suggested we go to Vanox to speak with Dormand. He’s had dealings

  with the sorceress in the past and might steer us in the right direction.”

  “Is Vanox in Midgard?”

  “Aye. Vanox is in Nidavellir.”

  If I remembered correctly Nidavellir was the land of dwarves. Nervousness crept up my throat. I was lost in some fairy-tale mythological world that made no sense, my baby stolen away by a sorceress. I was dizzy for a moment, wondering if this entire scenario was some horrible nightmare. But when I pinched my arm it hurt and I didn’t wake up. And every day that passed brought clearer images of the time I spent in the Otherworld, another place much like this.

  “How far is Nidavellir?”

  Kafir turned. “On Gypsy, not far.”

  I stared at him, watching the morning light play across his tired features. “What does that mean?”

  “Gypsy doesn’t travel like other boats. She can move through time and space.”

  Something about this statement rang a bell but I was too enervated to think. “Unless you need me I’ll rest downstairs.” I left him on deck, heading quickly down the companionway. I was shaking now, my mind playing strange tricks as I stared out the tiny porthole. I could no longer see the ocean, instead we seemed to be in the clouds, the boat moving at an alarming rate. I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling the blanket over my head.

  Chapter Seven

  Far Isle-2451

  “Gertrude!” Kafir stood over me, a worried frown on his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Aside from you sleeping for nine straight hours?”

  “What?” I sat up, noticing the dark circle in the porthole, the glint of stars. “Where are we?”

  “We’ve reached Vanox but we’ll have to wait for morning to find Dormand. I need some rest,” he added, slipping in next to me.

  Before I could say a word his eyes were closed and he was snoring. I eased out of the bunk, heading into the galley. Kafir had left a candle burning on the counter, a chimney protecting the flame from the gusty drafts heading down the companionway. I found my pack and pulled out a shawl, wrapping it tightly around my shoulders as I searched for something to eat. Kafir had left a pot of tea and I poured myself a cup, trying to imagine what I would find once the sun came up. Was this an island of ice or the one Tara had described that was full of fire? I shivered again as wind worked its way under my shawl—definitely not a fire island, I decided.

  I heard Kafir stir sometime later. I had fallen asleep again, my head lolling against the pillow on the little built in couch.

  “Have you fixed us breakfast?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He squeezed by me on his way to the woodstove and the kettle, pouring warm water over leaves in the teapot. He waited for a moment before pouring himself a mug, an exasperated sound coming out of his mouth. “Wish you had at least thought to make tea. This looks like dishwater.”

  “It wouldn’t if you let it steep.” When he turned toward me I lowered my eyes, afraid of his response to this. He seemed in a foul mood. “Do you know what time it is?” I asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

  Kafir shook his head pointing to the porthole where a streak of sunlight peeked through. “Morning is all I know.” He sat down next to me, his square hands folded around the cup as he drank. “One of these nights I hope to get more than an hour or two of rest,” he muttered, his eyes focused on his bare feet. “Wish you had heeded my suggestion.”

  “What suggestion are you talking about?”

  “The temple, Gertrude. If you had been there this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “I had no idea how to get there. Foy told me it was too far when I was pregnant and then after the baby—well, I simply forgot. It’s my fault Solti’s dead.” Tears welled up again and I fought not to cry.

  “Assigning blame won’t help anything.”

  “When can we go find Dormand?”

  “Christ, woman, can you give me a moment to wake up?”

  The sharp tone unnerved me. I didn’t know him very well, and being in this world where I didn’t understand the rules wasn’t helping matters. I took in a long breath, trying to quell the coil of tension in the pit of my stomach. I had no choice but to rely on him.

  “If you bring me a hunk of that bread and some cheese I can be ready sooner,” he added softly.

  I noticed the contrite smile on his face before I stood up to get the plate, feeling the boat lift for a moment a
s a swell went past. “What’s this place like?”

  He took a piece of cheese. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  With that ominous pronouncement Kafir went ahead up the companionway, blocking out the light for a moment. At the top he waited for me, leaning down to give me his hand. “Welcome to Nidavellir.”

  Gypsy was anchored in a small, protected harbor, dark rock rising jaggedly on our right and left. The mountains stretched away into the distance, opening out in a triangular shape, the tops lower and more rounded the further they were from the shore. Between where we were and that line of mountains, there was nothing to indicate life of any sort. We climbed into the pram Gypsy towed, rowing the short distance to the shore. The sand was covered in sharp black stones, their glass-like tips pointing upward. Had someone deliberately put them here to keep people out? Kafir told me no, this was merely what had chipped off the mountainsides. After he secured the pram I followed him, being careful to step where he did. Somehow we got across the worst part, ending up at another area of rock; luckily these were worn smooth. There wasn’t a blade of grass or a tree anywhere in sight. The eerie stillness made my spine tingle.

  “Follow close behind me,” Kafir murmured, heading up a narrow stony trail.

  “But where…?”

  “Stop asking questions. We don’t want to awaken anything.”

  I followed him, my breath loud in my ears, expecting some horrible creature to fly at us at any moment. Were there dragons here or was that too far-fetched? This certainly seemed like the kind of place they might live. I couldn’t ask, could only put one foot in front of the other, my eyes on the brown and gray patterns on the back of Kafir’s sweater.

  “Nearly there,” he whispered, stopping for a moment to peer ahead. I followed his gaze to what could have been a cave opening, but the darkness brought by those steep black walls of slate leached away the light. Squinting up at the sky I located the sun, a hazy gloomy ball hiding behind the cirrostratus layer.

  When we reached the opening in the wall and Kafir disappeared inside, I nearly cried out, but then he was there again, his hand reaching for mine. “Hang onto me,” he ordered.

  “What is this place?” I whispered.

  “The tunnel leads underground to where the inhabitants of this place dwell.”

  “Oh,” I said in a small voice, realizing that I should have known since Nidavellir was the land of dwarves. We descended rapidly, the air becoming thick and warm. Wind blew from somewhere below us, an odd odor coming with it.

  “What’s that I smell?”

  “They work with iron making it into steel. It’s the iron smelting you’re picking up.”

  “Swords?”

  “Among other things.”

  I began to hear clanging and banging, a rhythmic pounding of metal against rock. The sound grew louder the deeper we went until all at once we were standing on a ledge overlooking an enormous cavern. From here I could see the creatures working the metal, their short stocky bodies clear in the light from the many fires. Sweat poured from them, glistening in the firelight, their arm muscles bulging as they pounded the metal, shaping and refining. Their grunts of effort accompanied the horrifying spectacle, rising above the pounding to add another layer of torment. It looked like a scene out of Dante’s Inferno. “My gods,” I whispered, but Kafir was already heading away from me, yelling out greetings in a carrying voice as he descended the stone stairs.

  Several men looked up and then there was a shout from one of them as he flung his sword down to hurry toward Kafir. A second later they were embracing amid general pandemonium. “Where have ye been, man? We had given ye up for dead these last years.”

  I couldn’t hear Kafir’s response to this but I could see his arms waving above their heads. A minute later he turned toward me and gestured. “Come meet Dormand and the others.”

  By the time I reached the clutch of men around Kafir, nearly all had put down their tools to participate in greeting the newcomers. They were all smiles when Kafir introduced me, my hand disappearing into their sweaty fists for a moment before they released me.

  “Do they know why we’ve come?” I whispered to Kafir.

  “I’ve told them.” Kafir moved away from me, following Dormand toward one of the fires. I watched him go, feeling suddenly shy. What could I talk about with these strange creatures?

  “So you’ve lost your son to the sorceress,” one of them said, looking straight at me.

  His eyes were an odd color, sort of a dark muddy brown with flecks of green, sympathy softening his scrutiny. I nodded, looking down.

  “We’ll find him,” he said, running filthy fingers through his thick red hair. “She cannot get away with this.”

  I looked up hopefully. “Do you know where she is?”

  “I do not, but we have spies all over this world. And if she’s anywhere around here, Hreidmar, our king, will know. He is a magician of great renown.”

  I wondered what being a magician had to do with it, but I didn’t ask, instead making my way across the slate floor toward Kafir. He was examining a sword, running his thumb along the edge with a practiced air. When I reached him he and Dormand both turned as though guilty of something.

  “I was just in process of negotiations for this sword. It’s a true work of art and would do us well in this world where strange beings roam.”

  I stared at the bright blade, the handle covered in gems. It looked like a sword for a king, not a sailor. “Who were you making this for?” I asked Dormand, whose gaze seemed to be fixed somewhere in the distance. When he turned I saw the pockmarks in his lined face, the battle scars that ran up and down his thick arms. He was older than I had first thought and not a good-looking man.

  “I had thought to present it to Hreidmar at midsummer, but since Kafir is an old friend I will let it go for a slight fee.”

  “Slight?” Kafir laughed. “I would hardly call what you’re asking slight.”

  “It does seem a little fancy for our use,” I offered, glancing at Kafir.

  He stared at me, his eyes dark. “It is not the ‘fancy’ that I want, Gertrude. It’s this fine blade. If there was one with less gem work I would take it, but there’s no other at this time. It requires months of hard work to produce a blade of this quality, not to mention the magic imbued into the steel from these expert sword makers. We simply do not have the time to wait.”

  I was shocked into silence by his sharp tone and the derisive way he said my name. I was reminded of the dark man, the father of my baby, and my first impulse was to get as far away from him as possible, but when I turned to go he grabbed my arm. “I didn’t mean to speak so harshly. I haven’t slept well for several days and my weariness has made me short.”

  Dormand laughed. “Hardly short, Kafir.”

  Kafir chuckled, his head going back in a roar of laughter. “This is true.”

  I watched the two men, glad of the light tone and banter between them. Kafir stood at least two feet taller than Dormand, but I would say their weight was probably equal. The dwarf was thick everywhere, his legs like short tree trunks, arms bulging with muscle.

  “We best get out of your way,” Kafir said, his eyes on me before turning back to Dormand. “When can we discuss our plan?”

  “Let us make use of the fires we’ve started and then, when the sun goes down, we will meet in the great hall.”

  Kafir nodded, saluting the rest before heading toward the stairs. I followed at his heels into the tunnel, breathing a sigh of relief once we were safely outside. The sky had cleared a bit and I pushed up the sleeves of my wool tunic to allow the sun to warm my pale arms. I could smell the sea riding on the breeze and for the first time I heard the call of a seabird. My spirits lifted a little as we headed back to Gypsy.

  Once I had put food and tea in front of us, I gathered my nerve to ask the questions on my mind. “Does Dormand have recent knowledge of the sorceress?”

  “He hasn’t heard that she’s here, but that does
n’t mean much considering that this race spends most of their time underground.”

  “One of the others told me that Hreidmar might know. He said the king is a magician.”

  “Yes, this is true. But whether he’ll help us is another matter altogether.”

  “But the man I spoke with seemed to think Hreidmar would help. I…”

  “Are you questioning me?”

  When I turned toward Kafir his eyes had narrowed, a frown marring his features in a way that made him unrecognizable. A shiver of apprehension went through me. “I’m going up top,” I said, hurrying to climb the ladder. In the fresh air I pulled my arms around my shivering body, wishing, not for the first time, that I were home in Milltown, my baby in my arms. My breasts pressed painfully against my bodice, the thought of mastitis crossing my mind and bringing with it the memory of Rifak’s dark head against me. I stopped the cry that almost escaped my lips, wondering what I could do about this. If I didn’t do something soon I could be in real trouble.

  I watched the sea, following the roll of waves as they piled in, one after the other. Above me a seabird wheeled, its harsh call a reminder of what was real. But when I looked up what I saw was nothing like a seagull or any other seabird I had ever seen. The creature was shiny black with wings that looked almost bat-like, their span at least six feet across—the long beak opened as it gazed down at me out of its glowing red eye. When I screamed it wheeled away, the flap of its heavy wings fading into the distance. Tripping in my haste to get below decks, I nearly fell down the ladder, ending up in a heap at the bottom. On the couch Kafir lay spread-eagled, his mouth open in a snore of deep sleep. I left him where he was, heading into the little cabin where I crawled into the bunk. Pulling the blanket over me I tried to block out everything outside the boat, hoping to escape the horror of this place.

  I heard a copious yawn and then the sound of Kafir rustling around in the galley. I stayed where I was, unsure how much time had gone by or whether I was ready to face him. This Kafir was nothing like the man who had helped me through the birth, or even the person I had met on the trail who offered me a pipe, his turquoise eyes lit from within.