“Don’t read too much into it. I told you I’d keep you safe. I meant it.”
As they stood there in the courtyard, the sun finally breaking through the last wisps of fog, Njord couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing his iron grip on his feelings.
But he couldn’t allow himself to care for his enemy. He needed to regain control of the situation.
twenty-two
Nøkken
Thori
Sleep that night came easier than Thori expected. Njord hadn’t complained when he’d stolen one of his soft sleeping trousers to wear, and once in bed, Njord had wrapped him comfortably in his arms. The warmth of the sea god’s body pressed against his back felt safer than any fortress wall, safer than the spears and shields of a hundredeinherjar, and for once, Thori allowed himself to sink into the comfort without questioning it.
Even in his dreams, the sound of the sea followed him: waves crashing against the shore, the howling of the wind, and the distant cries of the skuas. So when the lulling rhythm changed, when an uncanny sound threaded through the familiar symphony of the sea, Thori’s warrior instincts stirred even in sleep.
A whisper of cold air brushed across his face like the touch of clammy hands.
Thori shifted.
The soft, rhythmicdrip, drip, dripof water echoed in the silence.
Thori’s eyes fluttered open.
The chamber swam into focus, washed in an eerie, silvery light that came neither from the candles nor from the fireplace. It cast long, distorted shadows that crept along the walls and turned the furniture into strange creatures.
Behind him, Njord stirred, his arm tightening around his waist.
“They followed us.”
Njord’s voice was a sleep-rough whisper, brushing against his ear.
Thori shuddered. Blinked. Then he saw them too.
Eyes. Glowing pale green in the darkness, scattered around the chamber like marsh lights. Watching. Waiting. And Thori realized they belonged to creatures crouching in the shadows. They mimicked the form of men, yet their limbs were too long, and their skin gleamed wetly whenever a beam of pale light touched them.
“Fuckingnøkken,” Njord breathed, and suddenly he was moving, rolling Thori behind him as he reached for the sword that lay within arm’s reach of his bed.
The creatures hissed, and the musty smell of wet wood and seaweed overwhelmed Thori. There were at least six of them, maybe more, lurking in the shadows.
Rising with predatory smoothness, Njord stepped right into their path.
“Stay behind me,” he commanded, just like he had in Njarðby.
But just like in Njarðby, Thori had no intention of hiding. He was a warrior of Asgard; he wouldn’t cower behind aVanrchieftain.
Several splendid round shields decorated the wall next to the fireplace, and before Njord could stop him, Thori was rolling across the floor to snatch one up.
“Thori, no!”
Thenøkkclosest to them lunged at Njord, but Thori threw himself between them and rammed his shield against the creature’s chest. The impact nearly lifted him off his feet, and he could smell the creature’s fishy breath as it snapped at him, its teeth like shards of broken shells. But most disturbingly, thenøkkwas still beautiful. Despite the wetness of its skin, despite the horrible glow of its eyes, its face looked ethereal and beautiful and terrible.
“I said stay back!” Njord snarled, but there was no time for argument.
Njord was cutting down two creatures at once, but anothernøkkhad closed in on them. Thori pivoted, using the shield to bash the creature away from Njord’s side, but he was a heartbeat too slow to dodge the retaliatory swipe.
Fire exploded across his shoulder as claws scratched his skin, leaving deep welts. Thori gasped, stumbling backward as warmth spread down his arm.
The scent of his blood seemed to drive the remainingnøkkeninto a ravenous frenzy. They uttered high-pitched, trilling sounds, their sole focus turned on Thori. But before they could reach him, Njord was by his side.
