The Viking Witch Cozy Mysteries

Chapter 3

The four of us unpacked all the boxes Nilda and Kara had brought with them, putting a bunch of pantry staples into cupboards that already contained plates and cups, cookware and bakeware that looked old-fashioned but little-used. They had gotten some fresh items as well, milk and butter and a couple of apples, which went into the little refrigerator in the corner. It was about the size of a dorm fridge meant for beverages and takeout leftovers, but its sturdy design struck me as more like an old-school icebox.

And it plugged into the wall. Which shouldn"t be surprising, since I had seen electric lights all over Villmark. But it was one more thing I had taken for granted that I now realized I didn"t know: where their electricity came from.

But Nilda and Kara were chatting happily with my grandmother, joking and laughing as they worked. I didn"t want to break the mood with a bunch of technical questions. I would be here all the time now. There would be more than enough opportunities to get all those answers in the days ahead.

Then, after the last of the food was put away, my grandmother turned to me. "It"s time for me to go."

"Already?" I asked. My voice didn"t quite squeak, but it was close.

"I have things to do before this evening," she said, and I more than knew that was true. She would be doing the magic alone again, without me there to help her. "Your friends will take care of you from here," she said.

"We have more boxes in the garden still to bring in yet," Nilda told me. "Decorative elements and such."

"Of course we"ll want to see what needs to be moved around in here first," Kara said, looking up towards the stairs to the top floor where the bedrooms were. "We"ll have this place rearranged to fit your style in no time."

I fought a yawn. Neither Kara nor Nilda saw it, but I could tell by the gleam in my grandmother"s eye as she pressed a quick kiss to my cheek that she had.

I had been expecting that she would leave before lunchtime. The magic she did to turn the Runde meeting hall into the mead hall was a complex interweaving of dozens of separate spells. It had to be to allow the inhabitants of Villmark and Runde to intermix without the residents of Runde ever remembering that they spent their evenings among the living descendants of the Viking Age.

They had to forget, to keep the people of Villmark safe. But it was exhausting magic for any volva, let alone my grandmother, who I knew was older than she looked, even if I didn"t know exactly how old that was.

And I would no longer be able to help her, not even the little bit I had been managing over the last few weeks. I felt a twinge of guilt about that, but reminded myself that the entire reason I was in Villmark was to grow and strengthen my magical powers. When I returned, I would be more help to her. I might even be able to give her a night or two off.

I stood in my stocking feet on my front step and watched until my grandmother reached the square. She turned back and gave me a little wave.

And then she was gone.

I went back inside and shut the door, but before I could quite feel sad or lonely, my friends came rushing to take my hands and lead me back into the house.

The two of them had already decided we should start with the bedroom that was going to be mine now. We climbed the stairs to the second floor, then followed the corridor past the two smaller north-facing bedrooms to the larger bedroom over the kitchen.

It was enormous, more room than two people needed, and it was all for me now. The bed was set against the western wall, since the east and south sides were nothing but windows. The sun was tracking its way westward, but this close to the solstice it was clearly never going to rise higher than the top of the window. The room was filled with cheery sunshine, made all the brighter by the ice and snow covering everything in view outside.

"This is amazing," Kara said, but she wasn"t talking about the view. She was running her hands over the top of the massive dresser, then brushing her fingertips over the front of a tall wooden wardrobe. She opened the doors, but the inside was empty. So were the drawers of the dresser.

"This might not be so much work after all," Nilda said.

"No, mormor said she already took away everything she wanted to keep, and I think she got rid of a lot of other things as well," I said. "She"s been up here in Villmark more in the last three days than she ever has since I"ve been here."

"And we like the bedding?" Nilda asked, pointing with both hands toward the bed that was bigger than a king-size. I ran my hand over the duvet. It was thicker than it looked, the comforter within heavy and surely warm. And the icy blue color was a lovely reflection of the sky outside, nicely contrasted by a mound of snowy white and dark blue pillows.

"I do," I said.

"Then we"ll just toss your duffle in here and you can unpack your clothes later," Nilda said.

"But wait!" Kara said, catching her arm. "There was that other thing."

"Oh, right," Nilda said conspiratorially.

"What are we talking about?" I asked.

Kara grinned at me. "We got you a little something. Well, two little somethings, but they go together."

My confusion must have shown on my face, because Nilda said to her sister, "we should just show her."

Kara nodded, still grinning, then ran down the stairs. I heard the door slam once as she went out, then again when she came back in a moment later.

Then she was back in the room, a pillow-like something in her hands. She looked around, then seemed to find just the spot she was looking for. She set the thing on the floor between the side of the bed and the small fireplace that separated that sleeping space from where the wardrobe and dresser defined what I was already thinking of as the dressing area.

"It"s for Mjolner," Kara said.

"A cat bed," I said. I hated to break it to her, but Mjolner would surely spurn it in favor of dominating whatever pillow I was using. But it did look cozy there, just on the edge of the rug that looked like a white bearskin spread across the wood floor before the fireplace.

Surely it wasn"t a bearskin. The only polar bears in Minnesota were safely protected inside of zoos.

Of course there was the wilds north of town, where the hills of Minnesota faded into the mountains of old Norway, with a side trip into Iceland. And that was just what I knew of that place from one short, if all too thrilling, trip. I wouldn"t be surprised if polar bears were to be found somewhere further in than I had gone. I mean, I had seen trolls, and that felt a lot more inconceivable than polar bears.

We continued on to the other two rooms, smaller but no less lavishly furnished. These beds had drawers beneath them, empty now, and similarly thick duvets, one cream-colored and the other a forest green.

If there had been any way to know which room had been my grandmother"s when she had been a girl, there was no clue now. I thought it might be the second one with the green duvet, the one closest to the top of the stairs. It just had a kind of energy to it that made me feel safe and protected.

Then I looked out its north-facing window and could just make out the furthest house on the northern road, the home of the Thors. Maybe that was where this safe feeling was coming from.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. We spent the bulk of our time downstairs in the great room. I let Nilda and Kara decide where to hang my drawings, what rug should go next to the larger downstairs fireplace, which pillows and throws should liven up the long benches along the walls.

I had never cared much for decorating myself. Besides, while they did all that, I was busy doing what felt like the most important part of moving in: setting up my easel and other art supplies.

I picked the western-most end of the room just under the little dais, a spot sufficiently out of the way of the main room for my artwork not to be disturbed by guests. It was close enough so that I could still see out the windows, but far enough that there wasn"t going to be the full glare of that sun in my eyes when I was working.

I dragged over a tall but narrow bookcase that had been standing empty at the other end of the room. Then I fetched a three-legged stool that had been sitting by the fireplace. Then I set up my easel, settled down on that stool, and started deciding where each of my tools should go so they would be neatly arranged on that bookcase but in easy reach from the stool.

I changed my mind a lot, rearranging what I had already unpacked almost every time I unpacked something new. There wasn"t even any paper on the easel in front of me, but still I found myself sinking into a flow state, where my mind was on nothing but art. I was just lost in the idea of all I would create here, in my new space.

I don"t know how long I was absorbed like that, but I got the sense that Nilda and Kara had called my name several times before I finally looked up.

"Sorry," I said. "What is it?"

"Mjolner is here," Kara said. "I think he likes his bed."

I leaned around the easel to see my polydactyl black cat sprawled out on a pillow that was a twin to the one Kara had put upstairs. He stretched out, licked the tip of his own nose, then sank into a deep cat-sleep.

"I guess he feels at home here, anyway," I said.

"You don"t?" Kara asked, sounding disappointed.

"Well, I don"t know yet," I said. "It looks great, though. Very cozy."

"You like it?" she asked, looking around like she wasn"t sure.

"We can get rid of anything that doesn"t suit you," Nilda said. "You won"t hurt our feelings."

"We went a little nuts," Kara said. "We talk about getting our own place together, but somehow we just keep living with our folks."

"Our mother would never let us rearrange her stuff like this," Nilda said, toying with a pillow on one of the benches.

"No, it really does look great," I said. "I"m sure in a few days I"ll feel right at home here."

"Oh, of course," Kara agreed. "A few nights sleeping in that bed upstairs, and you"ll just settle right in here."

I wanted to agree but was interrupted by a massive yawn.

"Sorry," I said. "I think I need a nap."

"No, you don"t want to do that now," Nilda said. "It"s just going to mess up your sleep tonight if you nap this late."

"This late?" I repeated, then belatedly noticed that the sun had sunk low over the hills to the west. Of course it went down early this time of year, but still. I had lost track of hours and hours.

"We should get something to eat," Kara said.

"My kitchen is fully stocked," I said.

"I meant we should go out," Kara said, coming around the easel to catch hold of my arm and pull me to my feet. "Your main job here is to integrate with the community, right? You have to go out and be with others to accomplish that."

"Just dinner," Nilda said in a voice that made it clear she was the older sister. "We won"t make it a late night."

"Not tonight," Kara said, but the way she said it sounded almost like a threat. Like there were a bunch of late nights coming for me, just over the horizon.