FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

Safe House

                We ended up staying up late anyways. I was tired, but I doubted I’d be able to sleep, and the other girls seemed to be pumped full of adrenaline, probably a reaction of having made it this far and realizing you’re still alive. We all perched in our bunks and talked to one another from there. Margaret, Becca and Stacy were talkative, chattering nonstop, and giggling to one another. Marian listened to the conversation with a smile on her face. Weirdly enough, Charlotte was silent.  She was sitting on the bottom bunk with her chin in her hands, staring out at the center of the floor.

                A lull came in the conversation and I took the opportunity to ask what was wrong. Charlotte heaved a long sigh, “I just miss Davin.”

                Silence for a minute, and then Becca said hesitantly, “Maybe…maybe he’ll come after you.”

                Charlotte’s eyes went round, “What if he did…and the wolves got him?”

                From bad to worse. I struggled to think of something to say, “Charlotte, I’m sure that wherever he is, he’s fine.”

                She looked miserable, “he’s probably still at the palace, walking around wondering why I left.”

Guilt was tugging at my conscience. I’d asked her to come with me. It was my fault, “maybe when this is all over you can find him again.”

                Charlotte blinked, “When this is all over…”

                She trailed off, and we were all silent. It was like the laughter had been sucked out of the room. When what was all over? The future was so uncertain for us. Here we were, a band of rag tag rebels running from their Queen, running towards an ancient enemy that may kick us out before we can even open our mouths. Or worse, maybe he would kill us all. Even if Surtr agreed to help us fight the Queen, there would still be war. Things looked bleak.

                After a while, Stacy changed the subject, her voice light. Trying to take everyone’s minds off the inevitable. We continued talking for a little while, until the conversation starting to trail into sleepy mumbles. I ended up staring up at the wooden logs of the ceiling above me. The thick, grainy beams of wood that kept the house from collapsing on top of me. They weren’t even cut into slabs, they were still logs. I imagined if you went outside, that the green tops of the trees would be sticking up from the roof, blowing in the wind. It was like the jotun had snatched this straight from nature and just molded it into what they needed. I inhaled deeply, noting the smell of pine and cedar, unsure if it was the actual house I smelled, or the wood in the fire downstairs. Gradually the gentle murmur of conversation below us lured me to sleep.

                I woke up to the smell of frying bacon the next morning. Breakfast was served around the fire, with Kiera once again doling out the portions onto wooden plates. Our encounter today was much less interesting. She simply scooped me a generous helping of scrambled eggs from the pan, added a few strips of bacon and gave me a smile,

                “Next,” she said.

                Apparently there would be no weird mumbling today. Not that I was complaining. I picked the couch in the corner again and the girls joined me. Just as we were sitting down, Loki emerged from the hallway, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. His curly hair was tousled and he was squinting around at everything like he’d just rolled out of bed.

                “I smell bacon,” he said.

                Charlotte pointed at the fireplace, “better get some before it’s all gone.”