FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

Safe House

                I leaned forward and whispered to Erik, “Who is that?”

                He glanced up, noticed I was staring at her, and smiled, whispering back to me, “That’s Kiera, she’s our oldest living jotun.”

                “Wow, how old is she?”

                “Nobody knows anymore. She’ll tease you about not asking an old lady her age, but she won’t actually tell you. We lost track ages ago. Safe to say she’s over a thousand years old. Some say she’s a witch. She was the only one the Queen was ever afraid of, so she had to run when Eira tried to have her killed”

My eyes must have been bulging, because Erik laughed, “Well, don’t give her that shell shocked look you’ve got on now, she’ll wonder what’s wrong with you.”

The line was getting closer, and as Kiera poured soup into Erik’s bowl I tried to compose my face into a blank expression. Then it was my turn, and the full weight of the woman’s gaze was on me. It was like my body refused my commands. I told it to smile, I told it to take the bowl from her hands and my lips to form the words “thank you”. None of that happened. I just stayed stuck to the spot.

Then Kiera smiled and lowered her eyes slightly, and the spell was broken, “Here you are, daughter of royalty.”

My fingers curled around the warm wooden surface of the bowl, “Thank you.”

She smiled again, and I moved to step away, only catching the words she mumbled because I turned back to look at her again. Her eyes were shut, “She will divide us and unite us. Shed blood and claim victory…” Then her eyes were open and she was smiling at the next person, ladling soup into their bowl as if she hadn’t just been mumbling to herself.

                Puzzled, and a little spooked, I turned and made my way back to the couch. I quickly found myself wedged between Charlotte and Loki. Becca and Margaret were arguing over the efficiency of cars verses horses, and Loki leaned past me several times to join in, firmly in favor of horses. I just ate my soup in silence, letting the sound of clanking dishes, laughter and the crackle of the fire wash over me, thinking about how blue Kiera’s eyes were, wondering how old she was exactly. Over a thousand, that was incredible. How old would I get to be? Erik had said around two hundred, hadn’t he? Or even more than that? Would I still look perfect like the other jotun seemed to? Would I still look like I was in my early twenties, a smooth face and perfect alabaster skin, when I was a hundred? Or would my “half breed” blood cancel that out?

                Later, they showed us to our rooms. I was ecstatic when Erik showed us girls up to the loft section, where there were bunk beds lined up against the wall. Marian was already up there, sitting on one of the top bunk beds. She smiled shyly and gave us all a little wave.

                “Hi Marian!” I waved back, and then turned to the other girls, “I claim a top bunk!”

                “Fine with me,” Charlotte folded her arms over her chest and eyed the top bunks mistrustfully, “I fell out of one of those as a little girl. Broke my arm. It’s isn’t safe you know.”

                I put my foot on the bottom rung of the bunk bed ladder, noticing that the wood creaked ominously as I climbed. Charlotte was probably right, but I’d just survived a wolf attack. I wasn’t about to be scared off by a wobbly bunk bed.

                “Bathroom is just off to the right here,” Erik pointed, and then turned to descend the staircase out of the loft, “Sweet dreams, girls. Don’t stay up too late, we’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”