“A war party?” the alpha asked. “Are they assembling their army?”

  Alaric shook his head. “My contact says that the Huntsman has called a meeting of all Draugr at Uppsala, where the old temple was.”

  Ardrik narrowed his eyes and thought about the news. “Strange. I wonder what he’s doing.”

  “I have no idea. My contact says that the Draugr have never been assembled this way before.”

  One of the other females, who was sitting nearby with a book, asked, “Who is your contact?”

  “One of the Dark Sisterhood.”

  She frowned. “Can you trust her?”

  “As much as you can trust anyone who isn’t Ulfen,” the pack beta shrugged. “I believe she tells me the truth.”

  “Are you fucking her?”

  He grinned. “When she lets me.”

  Ardrik chuckled. “That’s my boy.”

  ***

  Erik and Nika stood beside Ingrid in the garden. She was bent and listening to the earth, hearing something that neither of them could detect.

  “What is she doing?” Nika asked him in a whisper.

  He shook his head in bewilderment. “I have no idea.”

  Finally, Ingrid smiled and pushed her hands into the soft soil. The feeling of energy like static electricity filled the air, and the hair on the back of Nika’s neck began to stand up. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked into her mentor’s face.

  “Ley lines,” Ingrid said. “They connect points of power all over the earth. Early humans could detect that power, and that’s why they built their ceremonial spots on the nexus spots, the places where the lines intersect. There’s a line that runs right through this garden.”

  She held up a hand to Nika and beckoned her to kneel beside her.

  “Put your hand in the ground, just here,” she directed. “You’ll be able to feel the line.”

  “Should I…?” Erik began.

  “No boys allowed,” Ingrid said with a grin. “Valtaeigr only.”

  He fell silent and stepped back to watch, his arms folded. Nika gave him a smile, then returned her attention to Ingrid.

  “Hand in the ground, child,” she encouraged.

  Nika pushed her hand into the dirt where Ingrid had pointed, and almost immediately, she could feel the rushing of energy flowing past beneath her fingertips. It was impossibly fast and stronger than she expected. Her entire arm began to vibrate and buzz with the feeling.

  “Through the ley lines, a suitably talented Valtaeigr can travel to other points. There is a nexus in St. Petersburg, not far from where Natasha keeps her house. That’s where they have your book.”

  “Are you sure?” Erik interjected. “We need to get some -”

  “Shush!” his mother scolded.

  “...intel.”

  “I’m sure. Don’t doubt me.” She nodded to Nika. “Push your hand into the flow. Feel that energy, that river of power. Now… will your body to dive in and swim along.” She laced her fingers with Nika’s free hand. “I’ll go with you so you don’t get overwhelmed. You won’t be able to travel alone for a very long time, but with me to guide you, you’ll be safe.”

  Erik shifted his stance, his expression skeptical. Both women ignored him and concentrated on their task.

  “Is this rune magic?” Nika asked.

  “No. This is something else. This is witchcraft.”

  “But I’m not a witch,” she protested.

  “Yes, you are. Now… dive.”

  Ingrid went first, her physical body dissolving into motes of light that swarmed like tiny flies, then diving into the ground where her hand had been. As the older vala disappeared, Nika began to dissolve, as well, and she gave a cry of surprise just before bursting into a shower of golden sparks that followed Ingrid down into the line.

  Erik shouted and stepped forward, but the two of them were gone as if they had never existed. Trying to trust his mother to bring them home safely, he went back into the house to wait.

  ***

  The current drew them swiftly along, and Ingrid, who was very experienced with this mode of travel, swam even faster. Nika felt herself - although how she was feeling anything was a mystery to her - flying along behind Ingrid, their hands interconnected, their motion smooth and fast as a skiff on the water.

  She was full of sensations - tickling electricity, an almost religious awe, the rush of speed, pressure in the head that wasn’t even real any longer. She also felt fear, but she could feel Ingrid with her, and the presence of the veteran Valtaeigr was comforting. She followed where her elder led

  Suddenly they were real and whole again, standing on two feet connected to solid legs, an inch deep in the soil of a flower garden. She looked around herself in wonder, seeing a huge edifice of yellow and white with a colonnaded entry way. She and Ingrid were in the lawn, just off the side of the brick approach to the building.

  “Where are we?” she asked, gasping for air now that she had lungs again.

  “St. Petersburg Botanical Garden,” she answered, pulling her feet out of the ground. It was difficult at first to break through the undisturbed turf; it was almost as if their feet had been planted like bulbs and they were the flowers that had bloomed. Nika had never felt so much like a flower in all of her life.

  Ingrid held her hand. “Well done,” she congratulated. “You handled that first travel brilliantly. When you’re finally powerful enough to do that on your own, you’ll have no trouble.”

  She stepped up onto the bricked walkway. “Are we close to Natasha’s house?”

  “You tell me. Can you find the book?”

  Nika closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, extending invisible fingers to grasp toward the tendrils of power that surrounded the Book of Odin. She could not pinpoint its location, but she felt enough that she could discern a direction. “This way,” she said.

  They left the grounds of the garden and headed east along Reki Karpovki and across the Neva. The humming in Nika’s ears grew louder the closer they came to St. Sampson’s Cathedral. The church’s three-story gate house was pale blue with white trim, a confection in color that looked almost too sweet to be real. She went through the wrought iron gate and into the building.

  A square of paving stones to the left of the gate had been disturbed, and she pulled them aside. There was a hiding place beneath the stones, and in that hiding place, a familiar shape wrapped in cloth. She reached in and pulled the Book out into the light.

  As soon as she lay hands on it, the sound of a gun cocking sounded behind her. Ingrid crossed her arms and stood by silently as Natasha, her raincoat belted tight around her slender waist, stepped out of the wing of the gatehouse.

  “I knew you would come,” she said, speaking English. “And Ingrid, too.”

  Nika clutched the book to her chest and faced her, lifting her chin. “In the flesh.”

  “I have friends who would pay dearly for your head… or your ass.”

  “I suppose they’ll have to be disappointed.”

  Ingrid put her hand on the small of Nika’s back and subtly pushed her to the side, close under Ingrid’s arm. Natasha stepped closer, her stiletto heels clicking as she walked.

  “That remains to be seen.” She aimed the gun at Nika. “Put down the book, or I will blow a hole in your head.”

  “Where’s Magda?”

  Natasha smiled, her scarlet lipstick stark against the ice white of her teeth. “Not your concern. I said put down the book.”

  Ingrid whispered in her mind. Overpower her.

  Nika frowned. She’s older than me and probably much faster. Stronger, too.

  I’m not talking about physically. Think like a vala.

  The Book of Odin hummed against her chest, and she looked into Natasha’s eyes. Their gazes connected, and she smiled wider.

  “No.”

  Natasha raised the gun, but her hand went numb before she could pull the trigger. Her eyes widened in surprise as she felt an unseen hand slip inside her own, followed by a spectral body that slid into place, arms in her arms, feet in her feet. She let out a strangled cry, but there was nothing she could do. Nika’s will had been made manifest and was in control.

  “Tell me, Natasha,” she said, “what was the plan? Were you and Magda going to widen your empire of narcotic dreyri, coasting to power and money on the backs of a thousand addicted vampires? Were you going to use my blood as the crowning vintage? Or maybe Erik’s? Or were you going to try to make him your slave, to get revenge for the years of slavery he put Magda through?” She saw a flicker of response in Natasha’s mind, and she nodded. “So that was it. Death for me and slavery for him, then he would be thrown literally to the wolves. You would appease the Faery and the Ulfen and you’d get your revenge. It’s a nice plan, I must congratulate you. You just forgot one thing.”

  She stepped forward and pulled the gun out of Natasha’s hand. Ingrid stepped back, showing with her body language that she would let Nika handle this as she chose. Nika put the gun against Natasha’s forehead.

  The other Valtaeigr, High Priestess of the Dark Sisterhood, trembled in her struggle to break free from Nika’s control. She was strong, but not quite strong enough, and all three women knew it. Nika smiled.

  “You forgot that I don’t die that easy.”

  She yanked away her control just before she pulled the trigger. The high-velocity bullet took Natasha’s head apart, and she dropped to the paving stones, never to rise again.

  Nika had meant to pull the trigger, and had intended to end Natasha’s threat. Still, she had never killed anyone, much less as point blank range. She felt all of the color drain from her face and her knees went watery.

  A scream sounded from the street, and Nika snapped to. She put the gun into the pocket of her jeans. “Let’s go back, Ingrid.”

  “Yes,” the old woman said, as sirens began to wail. “Let’s.”

  Nika turned to head back toward the garden, but Ingrid dragged her in another direction, past a trendy microbrewery and a sports bar. She pulled her through a cafe and out into a tiny green patch of grass at the base of the building.

  “Hold on,” she said, and she turned them both into energy and dove back into the ley line. They hit it at speed and careened through the links, hitting nexus after nexus, twisting and turning so quickly that Nika lost all sense of direction. Ingrid kept moving forward, never stopping, not even when the line they followed seemed headed directly into a blazing inferno of spiritual power.

  Don’t let go, Ingrid coached her, and then they plunged into those flames, the brilliant white of the light surrounding and penetrating them, coating all of the tiny echoes of their spirits with an energy that spoke with a hundred voices. They were being crowded by a thousand personalities, a thousand words rattling through their heads, and Nika had the disconcerting feeling of being grabbed at by scores of hands. Then, as quickly as the chaos of that light had begun, it was over, and she and Ingrid were once more on the solid ground, this time in a clearing surrounded by ancient trees.

  “Sorry,” Ingrid gasped. “Didn’t mean to go through the graveyard.”

  “Graveyard?” Nika sputtered. They both fell onto the ground, panting.

  “Dead human souls travel the ley lines, too. Sometimes they’re unhappy to see us. I should have warned you.”

  Nika shook her head and rolled onto her back, the book still tightly grasped in her hand. “It’s okay. I should have warned you that I was going to shoot her.”

  “It surprised me,” Ingrid admitted. “I would have expected that from Erik, not you. Of course, you are American…”

  “Gun control is great until you have to shoot somebody,” Nika said, closing her eyes.

  Ingrid chuckled. “Don’t get too comfortable. We’re a long way from home, and we’re not in safety yet.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t say we’re not out of the woods,” Nika grinned, gesturing at the trees. “I would have had to hit you.”

  They laughed together, and then Ingrid rose up onto her knees. “Come forward, sisters. Meet the new Rune Master.”

  There was a shimmer in the woods, and then the sound of leaves rustling, and from all sides, a group of women emerged into the clearing. They were all shapes and sizes, all colors and ages, and they all moved cautiously into view. Some were dark-haired and young, some gray-haired and bent with age. One was tall and statuesque and the stereotypical Swedish goddess. They all looked at Nika with frank and open gazes, appraising her.

  “Sisters of the Light, I present Nika Graves, Chosen of Erik Thorvald and Mistress of Odin’s Runes.” She turned to Nika with a smile. “Nika, these are the witches of Hel’s bright half.”

  One of the witches, a tall and stout woman with gray streaks through her long brown curls, stepped forward and put out her hand. “Welcome, sister.”

  Nika accepted the handshake. “Thank you.”

  Her acceptance of being called sister to these witches caused them all to visibly relax, and the one who was still holding Nika’s hand said, “I sense no duplicity in her.”

  With that, they streamed forward, surrounding her with hugs and words of welcome. Ingrid looked on with a smile.

  ***

  It was more than a day since Ingrid and Nika had vanished into the ley lines, and Erik was doing his best to stay calm.

  He could not seem to reach Nika directly, but their Chosen bond was intact and untroubled, telling him that she was in good health and possibly even happy, wherever Ingrid had taken her to. He hoped they got the book back with minimal difficulty, and mostly he hoped that Magda was not there when Ingrid and Nika arrived.

  He had to be in Uppsala in three more nights. There was not much time to get things arranged, especially not if he was going to have to work alone.

  The most important thing for him to do would be to ensure that there were no humans around with his vampire kin began to arrive. The very young ones were unable to spend more than twelve hours without a kill, and there would be many youngsters at the congress. That was a lot of killing that would need to be covered up. Better, he thought, to just prevent it. To that end, he went to Karlsborg Fortress and called on the SOG.

  He wasn’t foolish enough to call on the actual SOG, just on the stores. He “borrowed” a uniform and just enough paperwork and ephemera to give his planned ruse the stamp of authenticity. His last act was to liberate a jeep from the garage and take it out of the Fortress and on the road.

  He drove to Gamla Uppsala Museum and parked the jeep, its Swedish army insignia and plates plain to see, in front of the main door. He adjusted his olive-green beret with its SOG patch and walked into the museum lobby.

  There was a clerk at the information desk, a bit apart from the ticket-takers. He walked up to her.

  “Hej,” he greeted. “My name is Captain Thorvald, SOG. I need to speak to the museum director, is he here?”

  She looked up at him with surprise and excitement in her pale eyes. “Uh… Yes, Captain. Right this way.”

  She led him past the ticket-taker and into the director’s office. The director, a middle-aged man with an athletic build, met him halfway across the room with a hearty handshake.

  “Welcome to Gamla Uppsala Museum, Captain,” the director said. “I’m Sven Nordstrom. How can I help you?”

  “Mr. Nordstrom,” Erik greeted, shaking his hand. “I need to talk to you about closing the facility for the next 48 hours.”

  Nordstrom’s jaw dropped. “Closing? But…”

  “I realize that this is a peak time for tours, and I’m very sorry about the inconvenience. The Supreme Commander of the SAF would not make this request unless it was very important.” He gestured toward a tour bus that was being boarded just outside the window. “We need to stop these tours immediately and clear the site.”

  “What is this about?”

  Erik met his eyes seriously, and tiny pinpoints of green Draugr fire flared in their depths. The human’s mind acquiesced and believed every word he said. “I cannot share certain details - top secret. But the Supreme Commander has reason to believe that it would be unwise for tourists to enter the Gamla Uppsala site for the next 48 hours. They need to be cleared immediately.”

  Nordstrom stared blankly at him for a heartbeat, and Erik feared he may have mesmerized him too deeply. The man shook himself slightly and said, “There won’t be any harm to the site, will there? This is a rich historical and archaeological site. It is invaluable.”

  “I understand that, and that’s why we’re trying to keep it, and everyone else, safe.” He sighed and forced the man to meet his eyes. He’d had enough of subtlety and bowing to human free will. “Clear. This. Site.”

  Nordstrom shivered once, then moved to obey, placing phone calls to tour guides and docents. Erik went and stood in the main lobby, watching as the flow of tourists was stopped, reversed, and sent back out to wherever they had come from. It all happened in an admirably orderly manner, and it was swiftly carried out. The army could not have done the job better.

  He was watching the last of the humans being loaded up into their tour buses when he caught the scent of an Ulfen nearby. He looked around and saw her standing at the entrance, her thick blonde hair plaited into a single braid and lying thick on her shoulder. She nodded to him when she was certain that he had seen her, and he squared his stance, facing her. He did not pull a weapon.

  She walked to him, keeping a safe distance away, with a support pillar nearby in case she needed to duck for cover. Erik intended to use the ticket desk for cover if it came to that. She looked unarmed, but he had learned never to underestimate the wolves.

  “Huntsman,” she greeted. “I am Ardella.”

  He nodded to her in response, civil but not exactly friendly. He said nothing.

  She shifted on her feet, cagey, and said, “What are your people planning for Uppsala? We heard that you are calling a great meeting, the first of its kind.”

  “I told your alpha and that I would be ending the raids. This is part of that.”

  Ardella took a cautious step forward, and he held his ground. “The Faery do not believe that you mean it.”