Chocolate, Rum and Northern Lights
When the northern lights are painting the sky, the old gods are building a bridge from the Earth to the heavens. The Norsemen believed it dangerous not to show respect for the light.
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“Hank. Come on, dear, you have to see this.”
Hank flew up into sitting position on the bed. Steel was leaning over him, soot smeared on his cheek and an oil lamp in his hand. His long black hair fell in a tangled mess down his shoulders, and his eyes glowed.
“What is it? Are we crashing?”
Steel snorted, and Hank was on his feet before he could pull in his next breath. It wasn’t until he was standing in his socks on the cold hardwood floor he realised the ship was sailing smoothly. “Is the storm over?”
“Of course. Storms always pass.”
Hank nodded, his
