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“Twice now I have heard strange voices in my head or had a dream about these voices. First when the Bifrost attacked me. And, again, last night when I was sleeping.” Her voice tremored.
That hollow sensation in his stomach that food had sated began to ache again. “What did these voices say?”
She shuddered. “They are coming. The same thing, repeatedly. Like a warning.”
A chill crawled over him, as if a hatching of baby spiders were racing across bare flesh. He resisted the urge to scratch.
“The voices,” he managed at last, “what did they sound like? Human? Goblin? Elf?”
She frowned. “You mean, did they have an accent, or did I recognize them? It wasn’t like that. It was more like—” A pained expression twisted her face. “—it was more like that magic was talking to me.”
The spidery chill increased. “You think the Bifrost was talking to you.”
It wasn’t possible. In all his years as Runemaster, the magic had never spoken to a human before. He’d never heard of such a thing. It made no sense that the Bifrost would choose this human girl. It rankled, if he were to be honest about it, rankled his pride and self-esteem that the Bifrost might communicate with this girl after only a couple of days when he had worked his entire life to become Runemaster.
This was his world, not hers.
“I don’t think humans can talk to the Bifrost.”
She shrugged and met his incredulous stare with a determined one of her own. “I’m only telling you what I experienced. Perhaps I am wrong, and it isn’t your Bifrost...but then who is speaking to me? Hm? Answer me that. Whoever it is, someone is trying to warn us.”
“But why you and not me?” He leaned back in his seat and tilted his head back to stare up at the shadow-cloaked ceiling of the cavern. It wasn’t as if he would find any answers written on the stone up there.
The rock didn’t talk to him.
She didn’t answer his question, because she obviously didn’t have any more answers than he did. Silence wrapped around them. The shadows tightened like the coils of a great serpent pressing in to smother them.
“Too many moving pieces,” he muttered. “I can’t sort them out.” He was talking to himself, not to her.
All he could do was consider one problem at a time and put the others into their boxes. He needed to choose a problem, just one. He should start small and work up to the most complicated problem, so that his mind would be less hindered.
“What has Trap done with all the goblinborn?” he asked. This was probably one of the more immediate but least concerning problems.
“They’re bedded down in my room. I figured they would show up anyway, so might as well put them where I want them rather than letting them pile on top of me in the middle of the night.” Wry humor colored her tone.
“Did they cause much trouble today?”
“A bit. Nothing we couldn’t handle, though.” She coughed. “Your brother even helped for a while, if you can call what he does helping.”
Her frank assessment tugged a snort from his compressed lips. He shifted to shoot a wry look in her direction. “I’m surprised he offered help of any sort, to be honest.”
“He does appear rather uncertain about his role with the children.” She hesitated, searching his face in the darkness. “I’m afraid I may have sic’d them on him. I lost my temper a bit.”
It took him several breaths to absorb the impact of her confession. Then he barked a laugh as he imagined Kora disappearing beneath a mob of hungry, overly stimulated goblinborn.
Her eyebrows lifted toward the sweeping bangs brushed to one side. “You’re not mad?”
“Stones, no. He probably deserved it.”
She smiled and relaxed back into her rocker. “I thought he did. At the time, anyway. On reflection, I may have been a little hard on him.”
“I doubt that.” He said nothing else because it didn’t seem gracious to catalog his brother’s shortcomings when Kora wasn’t there to defend himself. He laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes, willing for a moment of peace.
“I should go check on the children and let you get your rest.” But she didn’t rise from the rocker, not yet.
He groaned softly. “You mean, we can’t just sleep here?”
The moment the words left his mouth, he froze. While he hadn’t meant anything suggestive or inappropriate, he realized his words might be misinterpreted. Of course, they couldn’t sleep here…together. He peeked at her through slitted lids to test out whether or not he had offended her. But she sat perfectly still, arms still wrapped around her knees.
