Verena's Whistle: Varangian Descendants Book I by K. Panikian (essential reading txt) 📗

Cato must have heard the entreaty in my tone because he offered me a cracker. I laughed and shook my head, “No, thanks.”

We sat companionably around the fire for a while. Eventually, Bard opened the pouch cooking over the flames and dumped the contents into two small, wooden bowls. He handed one to Cato and sat with his. He tilted his bowl so I could see – it looked like a white fish, maybe, with some vegetables and spices. It smelled delicious. I made an appreciative sound and Bard looked pleased.

I wanted to talk to Owen but didn’t want to exclude the two men, so I sat quietly. I watched the smoke drift from the fire up, high into the boughs of the trees encircling us, and then into the patchy pieces of sky I could see through the branches. The stars were dim tonight and the moon was bright. The moonlight brightened the snow around us and the trees and rocks cast long shadows. The landscape was gray and black and lighter gray.

My eyes started to droop and I looked at Owen. He looked tired too. I stood and gestured to our tent. The Varangians stood as well. They kicked snow over the fire and went off to their tarp shelter, moving the pine boughs aside to climb inside. I hoped they’d be warm enough.

Our tent looked snug. Inside, I spread my emergency blanket on the floor and dug through Dmitri’s former pack to find his. I reminded Owen to keep his boots inside the blankets with us. I didn’t think we would need to zip our coats together this time, but I planned to keep my hat on. Theo had brought us new socks, so I stripped off my current pair and switched to the dry ones with a long sigh. Heaven.

I curled up under the blanket and when Owen slipped in beside me, I asked softly, “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to. I won’t push.”

“Yes,” he answered, just as softly and grabbed my hand. “I want to talk, but I’m not sure how to explain.”

I draped my arm over his chest and my leg over his, and tucked my head into his neck. “Just start and I’ll try and fill in the pieces.”

“I remember clearly getting ready to fight the bauk,” he said. “It’d just run past me and I wounded it. Then, it stopped focusing on me and saw you. As soon as I sensed that you were in danger, I lost it. I was flooded with rage. No, flooded is too small a word,” he paused. “I was engulfed; I was overrun.” He paused again.

“My vision went black and then red. Like actually red. All I felt was fury.” He stopped. “And that’s it. When I could think again, I was in a hospital bed and my nurse was wearing fatigues and speaking Russian. And you were nowhere in sight.

“I was really afraid I hurt you, and you were in the hospital too somewhere. No one would answer my questions. When they let me up and I saw you outside, I felt—” he paused for a long moment. “I felt really happy to see you,” he finally finished.

I stroked his chest. “You killed the bauk; it was pretty messy. You mostly bit it and then you snapped its neck.” I paused. “Then you started toward me.” Owen stiffened.

“I didn’t know what you were going to do, but I was worried, so I whistled you to sleep. You dropped your sword and you changed back. You were passed out. Dmitri and I got you dressed and then dragged you out of the ravine. The Russian guys picked us up in a helicopter and you know the rest.”

Owen was silent. I could feel his tension. I nuzzled even closer, forcing him to hold me.

“I’m a liability without magic, and with it, I’m too dangerous,” he said finally.

“You’re not a liability and I’m not afraid of you. You responded to my magic even though you were overwhelmed by the berserker rage. We handled it. We can handle it again,” I answered.

I could tell he wasn’t convinced. “It was your first time transforming in an actual battle. Of course, there’s going to be a learning curve. You’ll figure it out,” I said firmly. I believed it too.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed. He was silent for a little while and I started to drift off. Then he shook me little bit and said, “If I’m out of control again, and I’m about to hurt someone, I need you to promise that you won’t let me. Whatever you have to do, don’t let me.”

“I promise,” I sleepily agreed.

He jiggled me again. “Very? Are you still awake? I have some unresolved tension here.”

I giggled softly and felt his warm breath against my cheek as his hands drifted south, and then I was definitely still awake.

IN the morning, we collapsed the tents and packed them up. I had a granola bar and tried to imagine it was a pile of warm, buttery pancakes. It didn’t work. We started hiking along the ridgeline, heading northeast per Dmitri’s instructions. We went single file and took turns being point; it was tough work breaking through the snow and the rear people had the easiest path to follow.

It was a cloudy day again and there were flurries in the air. They drifted softly on our heads and I worried that if the snow picked up, we’d lose the trail. I was trudging along, uphill again, when we finally intercepted the bes trail. It was still heading north. I examined the trail closely and then told Owen that I didn’t think Theo and Julian had passed by yet.

We decided to wait for them. We sat on a log by the trail and started munching on more granola bars. A few feet away, Bard and Cato talked. Then, Bard walked over, pointed to the bes