Page 50 of The Fanged One

"Mama, give Fenris a moment to breathe," Arne said from the deck.

"Hush. Go and help Layla pack. Fenris and Von will help me in the kitchen." Alruna threaded her other arm through Fenris's and the three of them headed toward the house. "The rest of you, off you go. Get your things from Ulfheim and be back by dinner. It's on the table at six, and I'll be wounded if anyone is late."

"She's been cooking since dawn," Layla called down. "There are three kinds of cake. Save yourselves."

Fenris glanced back over his shoulder at Linnea, his eyes wide with something close to panic.

Good luck, she mouthed at him and pressed her lips together so she wouldn't laugh.

Are we leaving him? her wolf demanded.

For a few hours only. He's survived worse.

Don't like it, her wolf grumbled, settling like a storm front.

Too bad, we have things to do.

The drive over to Ulfheim was short, though they had to drive more slowly because of all the ice on the road. Tor swore colorfully under his breath for most of the trip while Ciara and Linnea tried not to laugh.

"Quick in, quick out," Tor said, taking the forest road that skirted wide around the village proper. "If anyone catches your scent and asks where you have been, say doing völva work down south and don't let them sniff at you. The minute the pack learns Fenris is awake, every wolf will lose their minds, and we don't have time for that circus."

"You think I don't know that?" Linnea kicked the back of his chair. "I know how to keep a secret, big brother."

Ciara reached across and patted Tor's shoulder. "Let it go, baby. She knows what she's doing. I'm more worried about the wolves grilling you than her."

The trees opened, and the end of its snowed-over track was Linnea's cabin. It sat on the forest edge above Ulfheim, far enough out that the village was just woodsmoke above the tree line, close enough that the wards of the pack lands still hummed against her skin.

"You got an hour," Tor said as she climbed out. "Pack warm and as light as you can."

"I know. I'll be ready," she agreed and stood in the track until the engine noise faded into the trees.

Linnea breathed in the silence and the feeling of being alone in her own space. She walked up to the blue door, the lintel above it carved with the Othala rune she had burned in herself her first winter. She reached up to touch it out of habit before going inside.

The cabin smelled of beeswax, cold ash, and dried herbs. It had one large room that combined a kitchen and living area, one bedroom, and a bathroom with a tiny sauna. Bundles of yarrow, mugwort, and juniper hung drying from the kitchen beam over shelves of labeled jars.

Her workbench sat under the window with her kit of woodworking tools and a half-finished carving of a bear. Wool blankets were folded over the back of the chair by the woodstove, and her own paintings hung on every wall featuring northern lights, ravens in a birch, and the big one over the bed, a black wolf running through a forest that she had painted last winter.

She tried not to think of the significance of the last one.

Linnea got the heating going first, then went up the small ladder to pull her travel pack down from the loft.

Bring him here, her wolf said. He belongs in the den with us.

Linnea paused with a wool thermal half-folded. He's a god. He has nine whole worlds to live in.

Nine worlds and no den. The wolf's voice was stern, all her usual nonsense tampered down.

Linnea didn't know how to make it understand that Fenris wouldn't stay there with her, and thankfully, a knock at the door saved her.

The door opened before she reached it, and Gudrun stamped the snow off her boots on the mat. Her red braids were wrapped around her head under a knit cap, her wool coat hung past her knees, and her eyes were glittering with magic and trouble.

"You took your time getting your ass home," Gudrun said, toeing off her boots and coming inside. She opened her arms. "Come here, my wayward apprentice."

Linnea walked into the hug and stayed there longer than she meant to. Gudrun thumped her on the back. "You're okay. Make the tea. I want to know what's going on from start to finish."

Linnea threw the last few things she had out into her pack while the water boiled and told her all of it, from the dream of Fenris tearing free of his bindings to Von's cracked little book and the road down into Niflheim.

Gudrun listened with only minor interruptions, drinking her tea with a thoughtful expression. When Linnea finished, the völva sat back in the chair.