Brimstone Kiss: Phantom Queen Book 10 - A Temple Verse Series (The Phantom Queen Diaries)

by Shayne Silvers

  Skadi beamed as though I’d given her a compliment but contributed nothing else to the conversation, clearly content to let Kára grill me as she saw fit.

  “And Odin’s grandsons? Were you the one who brought them down? How did you do it?”

  “No,” I replied, thinking back on the beginning of the evening. “That was someone else. A servin’ girl. She took ‘em both out with one blow.”

  “A serving girl?”

  “It’s fuzzy,” I admitted. “I remember she was in the mead hall. We spoke before I eavesdropped on the brothers. She even pointed ‘em out to me when I asked. But she wasn’t what she seemed. There was somethin’ about her eyes. And I remember seein’ yellow smoke...and...someone else’s face hidin’ beneath hers?”

  “That’s enough questions, for now,” Róta said, her gaze shifting to the mead hall, a scowl plastered across her face as several bleary-eyed drunks poked their heads out to stare at us. “We should go before our presence draws more notice than it already has. She can tell the rest to Lady Freya in person.”

  “Freya?” Skadi barked, her expression darkening as she reached out to grip my arm. “You are working for the Vanir?”

  “More like freelancin’, if I had to put a label on it. She’s got somethin’ I need.”

  “And you, Róta? Since when do the Valkyries answer to Freya?”

  “She took command of us after the Allfather disappeared,” Róta explained. “Without him to reign in their baser impulses, we could no longer walk freely among the einherjar. Times have...changed, Skadi. The world is not what it once was.”

  “I can see that.” The giantess scowled, and the air began to grow chilly, sending goosebumps rippling along my arms and shivers up my spine. Interestingly, I wasn’t the only one who noticed; the Valkyries shifted uncomfortably, eyeing Skadi as one might a volcano about to blow.

  “We have our orders,” Róta insisted. “I would ask that you allow us to bring her back. We don’t mean her any harm.”

  “Very well, then,” Skadi replied, her eyes bright with barely restrained amusement. “Let us all go see Freya.”

  “I’m sorry. You wish to, um, come with us?”

  “Of course. I have my own affairs to settle with Quinn. Besides, I have not seen any of the Vanir since my wedding to Njord. I look forward to experiencing my daughter-in-law’s hospitality firsthand.”

  “Hold on, your what?” Kára asked, her expression mirroring the surprise on everyone else’s face, excluding her superior, who seemed more mortified than surprised. “Róta, what did she just say?”

  “Njord is Lady Freya’s father,” the Valkyrie replied, exchanging a meaningful look with her subordinate. “Which means we would be more than happy to escort them both to Fólkvangr.”

  “Much as I appreciate this whole talkin’ about me like I’m not here t’ing ye lot keep doin’,” I said, waving my hand like a child looking for attention, “what exactly d’ye mean when ye say ‘escort’? Can’t Freya just make us a Gateway?”

  “Unfortunately, no. There wasn’t time once we realized your cover had been blown to set anything like that up. In fact, Lady Freya sent so many of us because she was concerned Magni and Modi would be loathe to hand you over unless they had no other choice. The plan was to fly back once we retrieved you.”

  “To fly back,” I echoed, recalling the awkwardness of dangling from Kára’s grasp the day before, not to mention the discomfort that had followed. “Aye, well...I t’ink I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to ye.”

  “There are other ways,” Kára supplied, barely able to suppress her smile at my obvious unease. “But they aren’t as fast. And you did say you were on a deadline.”

  “I’ll show ye a deadline,” I muttered under my breath.

  “If it is speed you need, I will carry you.”

  Everyone turned to stare at Skadi, who stood with her fists on her hips like some Nordic rendition of Wonder Woman. Everyone, that is, except Róta, who’d removed her helmet to cradle her head in her hands, mumbling what sounded an awful lot like obscenities.

  Or maybe prayers.

  “Come,” Skadi insisted, grinning so wide I found myself instantly on edge. “It will be fun.”

  18

  Fun was decidedly not the word I would have chosen to describe what Skadi had meant.

  And yet, here we were.

  A brisk wind whipped my hair into a frenzy, my helmet lost somewhere back in the mead hall, as the world sped past in a blur far below my feet—not that I planned on looking down anytime soon. In fact, I was actively doing everything in my power to ignore what was happening, going so far as to cover my eyes like a child playing hide and seek. I’d already tried counting backwards from a hundred, reciting lines from my favorite movies, and singing—anything to pretend that the breeze itself was a byproduct of an exceedingly windy day and not the aftermath of being carted around on the shoulder of a giantess.

  Unfortunately, the counting only made me more aware of how many hundreds of feet up I was, the sole line I could remember was “I see dead people” from Sixth Sense, and the only tune that came warbling out from my lips was the final refrain from “Ring Around the Rosie.”

  Ashes, ashes...

  We all fall down.

  “Doing alright down there?”

  I pried open one eye, scowling, and found Kára soaring alongside us with a malicious smile marring what would have been an attractive face. I flipped her the bird, which only made her laugh.

  “Punk ass Tweety-bird bitch,” I muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothin’!” I replied, sweetly, wishing I could convince Skadi to swipe the Valkyrie from the sky like an errant insect. Maybe then she’d stop harassing me. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen; now that Skadi had returned to her gargantuan height, she’d become a force of nature, answering to no one.

  The transformation had taken place mere seconds after Skadi extended her proposition to me. So suddenly, in fact, that it had sent all of us flying backwards with the release of so much pent up power. When the dust finally cleared and we were able to find our feet, we discovered the space the giantess had occupied replaced by a boot roughly the same size as the mead hall. Even now, I couldn’t shake the memory of looking up, my eyes tracing the impossible line of her leg until I reached her kneecap, after which point the giantess became less and less visible, her top half swallowed by clouds and mist.

  And now here I was, riding on one of her mountainous shoulders, shivering uncontrollably as we passed through said clouds, fighting off the bouts of nausea that accompanied the idea of riding what amounted to a moving skyscraper. Oh, and let’s not forget the presence of my Valkyrie escort, a diabolical woman who seemed to find my discomfort hilarious.

  “We’re almost there!” Kára called in a rare display of mercy that I immediately distrusted. “Then she can put you back down!”

  And...there it was.

  I groaned, my stomach lurching at the thought of departing Skadi’s shoulder; despite the giantess’ careful handling of my fragile body, the arrival flight had been a little like riding an elevator attached to a rocket, if the elevator had no walls and the rocket was one spasm away from squeezing you into oblivion. So not really like that at all, I supposed. Either way, saying I wasn’t eager to repeat the experience was an understatement of jötunn proportions.

  “It’ll be fine,” Kára said, though her barely suppressed chuckles suggested otherwise. “Need a distraction?”

  Another understatement.

  “Depends,” I replied, skeptically. “D’ye have to be involved?”

  “Not necessarily.” Kára dove and banked, her wings braced against the wind even as her scarlet cloak fluttered behind her like a cape. “Why don’t you tell me about being a witch? I think that sounds fascinating.”

  “Sure t’ing,” I shot back, patting the fur next to me. “How about ye come down here so I can turn ye into somethin’ pretty? That way it doesn’t h
urt me eyes to look at ye.”

  Kára barked a laugh.

  “I guess I deserved that. Fine, something else, then. You pick the topic.”

  I considered telling the Valkyrie what all I’d already tried but suspected she’d find it more amusing than anything. Instead, an idea formed from something Róta had said—a mention of Kára being off her game for some unspecified reason.

  “Why don’t ye tell me why you’ve been distracted, lately?” I called. “Ye don’t seem the type.”

  “Who says I have?”

  “Róta, durin’ our fight.”

  “You and Róta actually fought? I figured you’d have started posturing as soon as we left. And you’re still standing...that’s impressive.”

  “Nice try.” I swallowed down another wave of nausea as I swiveled, studying the Valkyrie’s body language. “Quit tryin’ to change the subject.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re afraid to answer me question.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not distracted, no matter what Róta told you. I’m fine.”

  “Fine, huh?” I narrowed my eyes, a suspicion forming. “Guy troubles?”

  “No!”

  “So...girl troubles?”

  “Odin’s beard, you don’t let up, do you?” Kára made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and ducked beneath a cloud before continuing. “It’s not ‘guy troubles’ so much as it is that I’m worried about someone. Someone...special, to me. He’s gone missing.”

  “Sure he isn’t just avoidin’ your ugly mug?”

  “I’m sure,” she replied, nonplussed.

  “Well, shouldn’t ye lot be able to locate him? Or find someone who can?” A thought occurred to me. “Is that how ye know the Horseman?”

  “No! No. The Horseman and I know each other from...somewhere else.” Kára began drifting on the currents, oscillating back and forth, her single braid whipping behind her like a flag. “But even the Horseman has no idea where he is. No one does. Not even Lady Freya, and the Allfather has been searching harder than anyone.”

  “So, he’s a big deal then? Your ‘special’ guy?”

  “Something like that. More than I ever thought he’d be, I have to admit.”

  “What d’ye mean?”

  “It’s just I’ve known him for a long time, and never thought he’d have ended up mixed up in all this. But then, I didn’t think I would, either. Funny what dying does to your dreams.”

  “I hear that,” I drawled, showcasing my surroundings with a smirk. “So, what’s his name?”

  “Master Nate Temple,” Kára replied, wistfully, her fingers trailing across the lighthouse carved into the meat of her breastplate. “I remember the first time he told me. He was so puffed up and self-important back then. Always acted like the smartest guy in the room. But sometimes he’d surprise me with some incredibly topical quote, or by standing up for someone without asking, or by listening when other men would’ve talked.”

  My mind spun with the abrupt revelation—doing nothing for my vertigo, I might add—as I began processing what Kára told me; it seemed not only did she know Nate, she had a romantic interest in him that predated the others I knew about. Of course, that raised all sorts of curious timeline concerns—especially what with Callie Penrose, a friend from Kansas City who’d done me a solid on more than one occasion, crushing hard on the wizard from St. Louis.

  Naturally, however, none of that concerned me as much as the fact that Nate had gone missing, and what it meant that I’d seen him as little as a few days ago. Well, a facsimile of him, at any rate. Either way, assuming Circe hadn’t tricked me when she showed Nate chained up on Mount Olympus, it was entirely possible I was the last person to see him alive.

  “So, Kára,” I began, startling her from her wistful reverie, “I’m not sure how to tell ye this, but I t’ink I know where your boyfriend is...though I have a feeling ye aren’t goin’ to like it.”

  19

  Perhaps an hour later, three of us stood before Freya on the top floor of the tower I’d failed to break into, the two Valkyries at my back like bodyguards. Or corrections officers, depending on your point-of-view...not that I knew anything about what that was like. Kára was a nervous ball of energy, shifting from side-to-side like a child doing the pee-pee dance, barely able to contain herself after discovering Nate’s whereabouts. Róta, on the other hand, stood rigid in the presence of her benefactor, waiting for Freya to address the bombshell I’d dropped at her feet.

  “I’m having trouble deciding which questions to ask first,” Freya admitted, massaging her temples.

  “Maybe we should start with what ye sent me to do,” I suggested, hoping to get that out of the way before yet another member of Team Aryan grilled me regarding all things Nate Temple; I’d already laid it all out for Kára and then again for Róta on our way here.

  “Oh?” Freya cocked an eyebrow but waved for me to continue. “Alright, go ahead.”

  “It turns out Magni and Modi were plottin’ the Allfather’s downfall, just like ye thought.”

  “Those fools,” Freya muttered.

  “I heard ‘em say they’d found a weapon they thought could do the trick.”

  “A weapon?”

  “Aye. Mjolnir. That would be Thor’s hammer, right?”

  “You’re sure that’s what they said?” Freya dipped her chin, giving me the full weight of her gaze from the dais upon which she sat. I felt the tension in the room climb even higher as Róta stiffened and Kára stilled; apparently I was bearing all sorts of bad tidings, today.

  “I’m sure. I didn’t get any of the details, but they did mention someone else before Skadi blew my cover. And it sounded a lot like that person could be involved, somehow.”

  Freya’s expression darkened at the mention of her mother-in-law, but she didn’t ask me to elaborate on that subject. Instead, she asked whose name I’d overheard in connection to the hammer.

  “Loki.”

  “Of course,” Freya mumbled, then sighed. “Well, at least we have our answer on that front. The rebellion continues.” The goddess turned to Róta, dismissing her with a broad, sweeping motion. “Return to Valhalla and collect the mutineers before they cause any more trouble. Perhaps they can tell us what Loki has been up to, or—if we’re lucky—where he’s hidden Fenrir.”

  “As you command, my lady.”

  “Oh, and Róta!” Freya barked as the Valkyrie turned to leave, her sudden shout catching all of us by surprise. “I had almost forgotten. Is it true you fought this mortal?”

  The Valkyrie grunted.

  “The person I fought was as mortal as you are, my lady. I would stake my wings on it.”

  “I see. Well, was she any good?”

  “Ye know I can hear ye both, right?” I asked, raising my hand.

  But Freya ignored me completely; the goddess locked gazes with her Valkyrie, giving the question more weight than the circumstances would have suggested.

  “Was she?”

  “Had she not resolved to fight on my terms, my lady, I doubt I would have walked away intact,” Róta replied, earning a startled gasp from her subordinate. “In terms of skill, well, let’s just say I haven’t had to work that hard since I fought Brynhildr on Himinbjorg.”

  “Truly?” Freya cracked a genuine smile that emphasized that vibrant beauty she was known for, the look in her eyes vaguely wistful. “Ah, Brynhildr. My husband’s champion. You never did get over that loss.”

  “I failed you, my lady, and shamed myself. Plus, she kicked me off the side of the mountain.”

  “And right into Heimdall’s arms, as I recall. Do you two still keep in touch?”

  “All due respect, my lady,” Róta said, grinning wryly, “that is none of your business.”

  “You see, Kára,” Freya went on, shifting her attention to the other Valkyrie in the room, “you aren’t the first to fall.”

  A glance over my shoulder revealed a flushed Kára, her eyes
averted as though embarrassed, or perhaps simply reflecting on what Freya had said. I considered asking what the goddess was talking about but decided against it; Kára’s feelings were none of my business. In any case, the moment passed the second Róta bowed and left the room.

  “Speaking of, I think it’s high time we move on to the matter of Nate Temple’s whereabouts,” Freya insisted. “I must say, the timing of all this is a tad...circumspect. If it weren’t for the Horseman’s testimony, I’d have mistaken you for a spy passing along false information.”

  “I guess that’s fair,” I admitted, seeing how that could be the case. After all, what were the odds of some strange mortal showing up to demand a blessing only to reveal a plot to overthrow the Allfather, the whereabouts of not one but two missing allies, and a prior relationship with one of the jötunnar? Hell, even I was beginning to wonder whether circumstance alone had brought me here, or if fate had intervened, yet again.

  “She was meant to come,” Skadi grumbled as if reading my thoughts. As one, the four of us shifted our attention to the tower window to find a single eye staring back, its pupil so large I could see myself reflected in it. It wasn’t a flattering view; I looked like I’d been chewed up and spit back out, my hair falling loose from its braid, my clothes tattered and stained.

  “Tell me what you told Kára,” Freya said, ignoring Skadi’s comment as though she hadn’t heard her—which was, for anyone with functioning ears, impossible.

  I did as Freya asked, relaying everything I knew about Nate’s situation, which—unfortunately—wasn’t much; despite our time together in Morpheus’ dreamscape, Nate and I hadn’t bothered discussing current events and had instead spent the bulk of our time together rehashing the past. Which, in hindsight, seemed like a mistake; maybe if we’d focused on discussing the future, I’d have more to offer than his location and the conditions of his captivity.

  “I wish I could tell ye more,” I admitted.