Stepping through the gigantic doorway, they again encountered the blizzard. This time, they clung to each other's hand with each step until they passed through the storm. As before, they experienced a brief moment of disorientation during the transition. This time, Sydney lost the solid feel of the Valkyrie staff in her hand, but once they stepped into the half-light of evening, the ivory artifact was still there.
Tears glistened in her companion's eyes. "We did it," he whispered. "We found the proof. We vindicated my father and guaranteed our place in the history books." He drew her into an enthusiastic embrace, and the next thing she knew, his lips were warm on hers. An electrical current ran through her, raising her pulse rate through the proverbial roof.
Too shaken for words, Sydney clung to her partner, wondering exactly when she had become so blind that she had missed seeing him for what he was.
"Come on, let's get that damned truck started," he said, adding another quick kiss for good luck.
If he'd had any idea how breathless even that small gesture left her, he might have waited for a tow truck.
Nigel climbed into the truck and waited for Sydney's order to turn the starter. She lifted the hood and adjusted a couple of wires, and the engine sprang to life on its own. It took a moment to register that the acrid scent of gasoline was gone.
"All right," she muttered, willing the butterflies in her stomach to still. "Let's get this show on the road." She called, "Nigel, you have the Staff?"
"Right here. All things considered, I suppose it will have to ride in the cab with us."
She opened the driver's door and waited for him to move. "Wait, what about your mom's letter?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope. "Here." The parchment was now misshapen and bulging. "What on earth?" When he opened the flap, there were no pages inside, merely a potpourri of rose petals that got caught in the breeze, fluttering wildly through the truck, their sweet scent settling over Sydney and Nigel.
And suddenly the air was filled with rose petals that rained down from the arctic sky, pink and gold and crimson as the Northern Lights.
Three days later
Classes didn't begin for another week, but Sydney needed to return to the familiarity of her university office. The trip back from Finland had been uneventful. It might have been downright boring if it weren't for the emotional turmoil that swirled in her heart.
After a night's sleep in Kilpisjärvi – in separate rooms – they hadn’t spoken a word about their experience. There were no more kisses or embraces, nothing to suggest that her memories had any basis in reality.
Had it been a dream? Had she imagined the whole exchange?
Self-doubt left her miserable. Nigel hadn't called to say hello, nor to discuss their dramatic anthropological discovery. If she imagined their emotional confessions, why did she feel like it was so real? Had she imagined being in love with him, too? "This is crazy," she said aloud, spinning in her chair. Everything had changed, even the view from her office window. The campus was the same, the grass and trees and sidewalks hadn't moved, but her eyes saw it all differently. Her fingers plucked absently at a bit of lint on her gray skirt as her mind replayed uncertain memories.
"Sydney?"
She jumped up at the familiar accent. She nearly tripped over her feet in the process. "Nigel?"
A trembling smile flickered over his lips. "Hello."
The look in his hazel eyes told her all she needed to know. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him, her full intent to follow up with a kiss.
A knock at the door interrupted them, and they pulled apart quickly as the dean strode in, his eyes dark with anger. "Miss Fox, what the hell do you think you're pulling? This isn't like you at all." Before she could say anything, he thrust the ivory staff at her. "It's a fake. A fraud. It isn’t even a good fake, Sydney."
That drew a reaction. "There's got to be a mistake." Sydney reached for the etched rod. "I authenticated it myself, while we were there. It never left our hands until we got it back to the university." She peered at the object, running fingers over its surface. "This isn’t it."
"This is it. And if you'll notice, it's marked Made in Mexico. And your photos of Valhalla, as you called it, are photographs of nothing but open tundra. If you didn't have such a perfect history with this university, you’d be sent packing right now. As it is, I expect a report on my desk tomorrow. In the meantime, I've got to come up with a story to feed to the media."
The older man stalked away, leaving Sydney and Nigel to sort out the implications. If the Valkyrie Staff was a fake, what did that say about their mutual confessions?
Valhalla was nearly deserted now. The souls of the soldiers had been given freedom from their earthly enclosure. Only a few of the Valkyrie still faded in and out of the shadows. This had always been their home, after all.
Two misty figures walked through the silent ruins, each feminine form clad in clothing from the past. "They really make a lovely couple, don't they?" Emma Bailey smiled at the letter in her hand, one of the many written to her by her son. "Your Sydney was just what my son needed. He is becoming less inhibited, more adventurous, more like the man he was destined to be."
The other woman returned the smile. "And Nigel has done wonders for my daughter. Sydney had become so independent that she'd blocked herself off to needing anyone else."
"A pity they couldn't take the Staff, really."
"True, but it served its purpose. They found something much more important than an artifact, after all. They found themselves. Of course, it will be a long time before they admit it again."
Emma laughed. "You're right, it will. But it will always be in the back of their minds. We'll see to it, won't we?" She linked her arm into that of Sydney's mother, and the two dissolved back into the shadows of the hidden city, leaving the scent of roses in their wake.
THE END