FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

The Fake Detective

The bath felt so nice, the warmth of the water soaking into my sore muscles. I even filled a wine glass with coke from the mini bar and pretended it was wine, and that I was all sophisticated. In reality I hated wine. There was a real bottle of it in the welcome basket, right next to the tea, but I wouldn’t touch it. Not only was it disgusting, but it made people do nutty things, and I needed my wits about me, even if Loki was chasing the white pickup to Nova Scotia by now. The thought made me grin.

I took another sip from the glass in my hand, letting the bubbles dance on my tongue, entertaining all sorts of happily bitter thoughts. I imagined him driving after the truck, thinking I’d got a lift with someone, driving for hours, getting tired and hot and frustrated. I imagined him finally finding the truck, discovering my cell phone in the back. How mad would that make him? Normally picturing Loki made me sad, but this time it gave me a rush of savage pleasure. Let the jerk go on a wild goose chase. He deserved it.

Eventually I climbed out of the tub, skin wrinkled like a raisin, feeling pleasantly flushed. I toweled off and slipped into one of the fuzzy white robes the hotel provided, happily lying on the bed for a few more hours of mindless TV.  Finally around eleven I started to get tired. The bath had drained me completely of energy, so a long, refreshing sleep was definitely in order.

I turned the TV off, but let the fireplace continue to snap and crackle. The noise, and gentle orange light that glowed in the darkness was really comforting. My eyes were so heavy, and I drifted in and out, thinking that this bed was probably the softest I’d ever felt in my entire life. It might not have been, but right then, I would have sworn to you that it was. Thoughts drifted in and out of my conscious mind, flashing by in a jumble. Then there was nothing.

A gentle touch, a white face in front of me. I was faint, almost gone. The life was leaking from me with the blood flowing from the wound in my chest. I had hung on so long, waiting to see her before I let myself slip away. The queen’s voice was gentle, passionate, but her words made no sense. It was as if she spoke in a different language. Her words washed by me strangely, the ebb and flow of an alien tide. A jab of distress as I realized her beautiful face was growing fuzzy around the edges. I lifted a trembling hand and tried to touch her cheek, and she caught it in a firm, cool grasp.

I tried to tell her I was dying for her. I took the spear for her because that’s how much I loved her, but the only thing that came from my lips was a bubbling gasp. Something dropped onto me, cold spots bloomed on the fabric of my tunic, ice formed where they fell. The queen was crying, weeping for me. For her child.

The darkness was pierced by a gently glowing orange ember. For a second I couldn’t remember where I was, until I continued to stare at the ember and realized the fire had died out, and I was in a warm, soft bed in a nice hotel. I relaxed again, and was about to turn over and drift back into dreams, when a scratching noise reached me from the door. My heart did back flips, and I stayed frozen, clutching the sheets tightly with both hands. That noise must have been what woke me up. There was a metallic click, and a squeak, and a thin shaft of light appeared on the carpet. I could barely hear the sound of soft footsteps coming down the short hallway - past the bathroom, heading for the bedroom – over the sound of my heart beating out of my chest. It felt like I was going to go into cardiac arrest. I wouldn’t be killed by whoever had broken in, I’d be betrayed by my own body and die of a heart attack.

My mind scrabbled frantically, trying to think of something I could protect myself with. A picture of the fireplace flashed into my mind. The metal stand with the bronze fire poker that I’d used to jab at the log earlier with. I braced myself to spring out of bed. My mouth was completely dry. I couldn’t see anything, I didn’t know where the poker was.