Chapter 40 - Allspeak

                                    

                                          
Once your feet land solidly on the ground, your reach for the woman's hand nervously. She looks over and smiles at you as your hand finds hers, and she gives your fingers a gentle and reassuring squeeze. 
You find yourself in the middle of a run-down and very dilapidated looking series of buildings. It's like a small town. But small means small, as there are only a handful of structures that line the single paved road, and even fewer people.
Glancing around, this place looks very familiar. You turn, and realize that the edge of the tree line where you had been standing is in the distance. 
You were still in the empty field? So you had been right. This place is heavily shielded by magic. But why?
A small collection of odd and eccentric figures watch you as the healer guides you to the largest building at the end of the short road, leading you inside. You push through the door and past a curtain made of what look like small animal bones. Immediately upon stepping through, you gasp as the splendor of the small inside doesn't match that of the outside. 
Fine carpets cover beautiful marble floors. Grand wooden furniture lines the halls and rooms. They have handles gilded in gold and all seem recently polished. Fresh flowers sit in all the vases. It is almost identical to the halls of the royal palace, despite looking nearly abandoned from the outside.
"Did you shield this place? Why?" you ask in awe. "Is it...supposed to be the palace?"
The healer simply looks back and smiles at you. You know she can't understand what you're saying. But you know some of this language. You had heard Loki speak it many times - awake and in his sleep.
"Um...seidr?" you ask.
The woman turns to you, her eyes bright. She nods, and smiles.
"Seidr felur þennan stað - og heldur okkur öruggum," she says.
You laugh and shake your head as you continue to follow the woman to a small room down the elegant hall. Inside, a luxurious bed and a long table with many strange instruments, tools and baubles.
The woman gestures towards the table, and motions for you to sit, dropping your hand. You follow her instructions as she stands over her assortment of devices. Thinking for a moment, she picks up a large wooden staff bound with leather strappings. 
Returning to you she kneels, arching one brow, and pointing towards your stomach. You nod. She smiles, and slides a hand beneath your dress. You gasp at how cold her hand is on the warm skin of your belly, but remain still. Focused, the woman's hand begins glowing purple once again as the light of her magic shines through the threads of your kyrtill. All at once every single organ in your torso starts moving - nearly vibrating - as they squirm and wriggle into new places. But it doesn't hurt. In fact, with each passing second you can breathe easier. The woman can tell, and offers you an encouraging nod as her light flares even brighter. You can tell her magic is strong, but it isn't like Loki's. Every time Loki uses his magic on you, it feels like a warm static. Not painful, but not soothing. It's exciting, tingly.
But when this woman uses her magic on you, it's soft. Comfortable. Calming.
She keeps her hand on your stomach, moving it around slightly. You watch her brow furrow, and you can tell by her expression that she doesn't like what she's seeing. After a few more moments, you can't take it anymore.
"Is the baby okay?" you ask quietly.
The woman looks up at you with sad eyes and you feel your breath catch. 
"Það er gott að hann kom með þig hingað. Þú hafðir ekki mikinn tíma," she says in a grave tone.
"Please," you beg. "I can't understand you."