Perfekt Match (The Ære Saga Book 4)

by S. T. Bende

  I drew a deep breath, reveling in the way light surged into spaces I’d believed were lost to me forever. The love expanded, its warmth filling me with peace and gratitude and grace. Lightness danced across my torso, the sheer joy within it enough to make me sob with relief.

  “Scan me, Elsa. I think we got it all.”

  Elsa raised her palm a few inches from my head. She ran it down my body and back up, hovering for an extra moment at my heart. “No residual energy. You’re clear.”

  “Good.” I pushed myself off the smooth surface of the chair to stand on shaky legs. “Let’s call Heimdall and get to Asgard immediately. Brynn may have the valkyries under control, but I have a feeling our girls will need the backup of their love goddess.”

  “You’re ready to go?” Mia asked. “Don’t you need recovery time? You had Hel’s energy inside of you, for God’s sake. That must have been horrific.”

  “It was. But time’s a luxury we don’t have.” I rolled my shoulders back and drew myself up to my full six feet. “The realms need us. And I’m finished letting them down.”

  **

  I asked for a moment alone with Jason before we departed for Asgard. I took his hands in mine and assured him that though things were about to get substantially crazier, I’d be there for him in every way I could. Then I kissed him. In the sixty seconds we had to lose ourselves in that moment, my toes curled and my blood absolutely singed with heat. The ketane was definitely gone, thank Odin. And if Elsa hadn’t charged down the stairs right then announcing the arrival of our rainbow transport, things would have gotten deliciously heated.

  Stupid rainbow transport.

  Jason, Mia, Elsa, and I left the Arcata cabin together, stepping as a unit into the multi-hued light of the bridge. The Ahlström siblings masked their uneasiness with shaky grins, though Jason definitely yelped as Heimdall raised the Bifrost. I held tight to his hand, offering what little reassurance I could to the human who, for all purposes, had left the only realm he’d ever known for the first—and possibly last—time. Odin only knew what Midgard would look like post-Ragnarok…if it survived, at all.

  We accelerated on approaching Asgard, and as the force of descent increased the pressure on my body to near-unbearable levels, I reminded myself that we would face this battle as we had every other—with the fierce determination that had defined our society since the beginning of time. We’d survived countless attacks, each with the same end—Asgard victorious, rising again to lead the realms to peace. This battle would be no different. Love—and our warriors—would conquer all.

  I believed this with every fiber of my being until we touched down outside the valkyrie compound. In that moment, I realized how very greatly the odds were stacked against us…and how truly heinous the horrors of Ragnarok had become.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BRYNN

  AS REALM-ENDING BATTLES went, this one was a major skit show.

  The V.C. was absolute chaos—girls racing from the arsenal to the tech distribution center to the staging areas, where they were dispatched to dispel the seemingly infinite threats to the light realms. But inside the war room, the vibe was one of calculated calm. On departure, Mariana, Sigrunn, Tessyra, and Xatnari had each taken a set of birdies—the drone cameras Henrik and I had developed. Now, their missions played out on the four holo-screens atop the center of the enormous conference table. My gaze shifted from Mariana’s team, who’d wasted no time eliminating the horde of dark elves standing between them and the younglings they’d been sent to extract, over to Tessyra’s team, crouched low as they set deactivators around a portal in the dark forest.

  In the Muspelheim screen, Xatnari stood in a blackened clearing with Hyro and her dragon, Marshmallow. The still-smoking tree trunks suggested that either fire giants or feyndrals had recently blazed the forest, which accounted for the additional valkyrie sentries who joined the regulation two in scanning the horizon from atop their pegasuses. The equines’ wings fanned the dark smoke, creating a screen that blocked Xatnari’s team from outside view. And just inside the screen, a cluster of two-dozen fire giants stood huddled with a handful of our valkyries. One of the giants knelt in the soot to sketch some kind of diagram. She must have been part of the rebel cell our girls had come to enlist. Nice.

  Secure in the knowledge that our Muspelheim plan was in effect, I checked in on Nidavellir. Sigrunn and her team crept silently around a nest of sleeping dragons. A handful of dwarves cowered in the upper-right corner of the screen, where two of our higher-ranking valkyries waved them forward. No doubt they had an extraction plan in place, and provided they didn’t wake the sleeping…skit.

  “Sigrunn, live wire at your two o’clock.” I tapped the Nidavellir screen to zoom in on the yawning reptile. Its eyes flickered open, the third lid sliding sideways as it registered the dwarf’s movement. “Get everybody out of there, now.”

  “Copy that.” Sigrunn held up a fist. She lifted one finger, and a second later, three valkyrie-bearing pegasuses swooped across my screen. The girls on the ground lifted the dwarves one by one, depositing them on the backs of the horses before drawing their swords and turning on the dragons. Flames shot from the now very much awake reptiles’ mouths. Though we generally honored a no-kill policy with Nidavellir’s dragons, Sigrunn’s team quickly dispatched the more aggressive creatures. Wren, one of our animal whisperers, set about calming the others—thank gods—and the skirmish was over before I’d unclenched my white knuckles from the edge of the table.

  “Good work,” I praised. “Keep an eye on the second nest—the one to your ten o’clock. The purple-backed dragon over there may be waking up.”

  “Got it. Thanks, General.”

  “Birdie, scan to the south,” I ordered. My screen panned to the left, where the valkyries ushered a dozen dwarves toward a silver portal. “Exit looks good. Once evac’s complete, you’re moving on to debilitate the dark energy siphon, ja?”

  “Half of my team is setting up detonation,” Sigrunn confirmed. “This was the last of the captives. Once they’re clear, the rest of us will head west and assist.”

  “I’m here if you need anything.” I logged off and shifted my attention to the Muspelheim hologram, where Marshmallow snorted bursts of fire from his scaly nose. I was so focused on the flame-breather, I jumped when the door clicked open behind me.

  “Ouch!” I rubbed my kneecap. Table edges were hard.

  “Sorry,” Freya apologized. I raised a curious eyebrow at the sight of my commanding officer—who was supposed to be in Arcata—scooting into the room with a rueful smile. “I know how crazy it gets.”

  “Svetana’s running intermediary, and I told her I only wanted updates every five minutes. So, it’s fairly calm in here. But out there?” I jutted my chin toward the now closed door. “Yikes.”

  “Total chaos,” Freya confirmed.

  “Seriously. The tech team’s pulling all available devices and shipping them with each Bifrost departure. The arsenal team’s ramping up transfer of weapons, and the contemplatives are reallocating adverse energy from the meditation center. From all appearances, Jotunheim’s about to unleash total mayhem on…somewhere.”

  I pointed to the fifth screen—the one I’d set away from the others. It showed waves of frost giants charging across an icy field. They assembled in front of an actively sparking portal. Our strategists hadn’t yet traced its exit point, but anywhere that many jotuns were heading was in for one Helheim of a shock.

  “Any chance you brought our Unifiers with you?” I asked.

  “Mia and Elsa went straight to the meditation center. The contemplatives said they had a separate room they could use for Unifying.”

  “Good. And Jason?” My eyes flicked from screen to screen, monitoring for imminent catastrophes.

  “The contemplatives will keep an eye on him while Mia and Elsa work. He wasn’t thrilled about being babysat while his sister and her friends saved the worlds, but once the contemplatives showed him a holo from th
e second Battle of Jotunheim, he understood he might need more training before going into the field.” Freya chuckled. “Bless.”

  “No, I mean how’d he take all of this?” I waved my hands in front of me. “Kind of a lot, finding out Asgard exists and visiting it on the same day.”

  “He did okay. Well, he did throw up after the Bifrost.” Preach. “But he recovered quickly—or at least, he pretended to. I appreciate the effort.”

  “I’ll bet you do.” Gods, I loved that Freya had fallen for Mia’s brother. So perfekt. “And Mia? How’d she react to seeing this place for the first time?”

  “Mia’s Mia.” Freya’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “You could practically see her brain split in half when we touched down—one side memorizing everything to analyze later, the other trying to figure out how any of it could be real.”

  “Gotta love our human.” Sharp movement from one of the screens drew my eye, and I quickly advised Sigrunn to have Wren take care of the purple-backed dragon who was now snorting fire. Once Wren was on her way, I blinked at Freya. She shouldn’t have been in Asgard—none of them should. Something awful must have gone down. “So, I’m taking it you’re in Asgard because something happened in Arcata?”

  “You might want to pull up a Midgard screen,” Freya offered. “Hel showed up at the compound.”

  I swore. Loudly.

  “We sent her through a portal, but we don’t know where it took her. In case she makes it back to Midgard, it would help to have a debilitation team on standby.” Freya crossed to my side. She pulled an additional screen from the air and set it in the center of the tabletop ones. “Set Midgardian scan to wide. Access all known dark portal sites. Revolve.” The screen did as she asked, flickering through feeds in five-second intervals. “I can watch this one if you want,” Freya offered. “Frees up more of your attention to focus on the Jotunheim situation.”

  “That’d be great.” I raked my fingers through my hair. My curls had gotten a lot messier since I’d arrived in the war room. “I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long. It’s a ton of pressure.”

  “You get used to it.” Freya shrugged. “But it’s been hard to balance both jobs—I’m glad you’re in command today, so can I focus on being Love.”

  I tilted my head from shoulder to shoulder, breathing deeply into the taut muscles in my neck. “You’re ready to take that job back on?”

  “Absolutely.” Freya’s voice carried a resolve I hadn’t heard in a long time.

  Thank gods. “I’m really happy to hear that,” I said softly. And I meant it. The worlds were dimmer without Freya’s light, and we needed that light today, more than ever.

  “General!” Xatnari’s sharp voice barked in my ear. “Permission to engage.”

  I transferred my focus to the Muspelheim screen, where four dragons crept through the forest toward the smoke. They appeared to be larger versions of Hyro’s Marshmallow—they must have been the feyndrals. The lethal, dark-magic-wielding, god-killing feyndrals.

  It was go time.

  “Permission granted. Four dragons, your one o’clock. Having the rebels turn the feyndrals would be a win, but remember, if it’s your lives or theirs, protect the rebels and our girls.”

  “I won’t let you down, General. Wave one—move out!” Xatnari charged, her sword drawn. Her team spread into an attack formation before following her through the smoke screen. They bore down on the feyndrals, who reared back on their hind legs and shot fire from their gaping maws.

  “Wave two!” Xatnari cried, and the rebel fire giants burst through the smoke. They broke into teams of six, circling around the feyndrals and drawing their heads back. The giants’ bellies expanded just before streams of flame shot from their noses. The feyndrals fired back, and in no time the forest was a sea of red and orange and black. Flames lapped at the ground, up the charred trunks of the trees, and along the smattering of fauna that somehow managed to bloom amidst the unforgiving Muspelheim atmosphere. The equine team circled the dragons from the air, directing smoke at the reptiles and obscuring visibility so the rebels could approach.

  “Feyndrals are swiveling their heads from side to side,” I said. “In other dragon species, that signals disorientation. Give it another few seconds, and have the rebels go in for the turn.”

  “Copy that, General.” Xatnari waited several beats before shouting, “Turn them!”

  “Airborne, shift the smoke pattern to increase visibility for the rebels,” I commanded. “If the feyndrals come close enough to attack, take out the threat.”

  Xatnari relayed my order to her pegasus team, and the valkyries shifted position. By the time the smoke cleared, three of the feyndrals had begun to buckle under the blaze of the rebel giants. The fourth angrily bobbed his head back and forth, firing at our allies. Two fire giants fell to the ground, shrieking as their skin was coated in thick, orange flames. A third moved in closer to the beast, shooting a stream directly at the feyndral’s heart. The dragon staggered backward before regaining its composure and incinerating its attacker.

  “Xatnari, the southern-most dragon is unwilling to comply. Three casualties. Eliminate by air strike, but protect the remaining rebels,” I ordered.

  “Air team, take out Feyndral Four.” Xatnari charged into the flames, broadsword at the ready, while the pegasus team swooped in from the sky. They dove at the dragon in waves, slicing its neck on alternate sides. The monster whipped its head from side to side, registering each attack a split second too late.

  “Rebels, clear out!” Xatnari demanded. The flames surrounding Feyndral Four dissipated, and the dragon drew its head back just as Xatnari leapt in the air and drove her sword into its chest. Thick, black blood gushed from the puncture, coating the valkyrie’s weapon and her uniform in a tar-like goo.

  “Air team,” Xatnari panted. “Terminate!”

  In a fierce flash of wings and swords, the airborne valkyries swarmed the dragon’s neck. With synchronized precision, they drove their swords into the beast and wrenched them sideways, decapitating the feyndral. The beast’s head tumbled down, narrowly missing Xatnari before landing with a thud. Thick, black soot puffed upward, obscuring my lieutenant general from view.

  “You okay?” I barked.

  “Never better.” Xatnari coughed. She stepped through the cloud to study the other three dragons. Each knelt in submission, as if pledging fealty to the rebel giants.

  “Send in Hyro,” I ordered. We’d kept the young giant back, not wanting to risk her safety. But now that the turn had been successful—on three fronts, anyway—it was time for her to instruct the rebels on feyndral command. Having four formerly dark dragons on our team would be a huge boost to our fleet. Odin knew, we were going to need it.

  Xatnari briefly communicated with our friend before Hyro and Marshmallow approached the three kneeling dragons. Since things seemed to be under control in Muspelheim, I turned command back over to Xatnari, and signed off.

  “You handled that well,” Freya praised. While I’d been focused on the fiery realm, she’d relocated the Jotunheim and Midgard screens to the far side of the table, and settled herself into one of the captain’s chairs.

  My spine crackled as I rolled my shoulders. “Like I said, I don’t know how you do it. Do you have a trace on the jotuns’ portal exit?”

  “Possibly.” Freya’s brows knitted together. “While I’ve been working, I’ve also been sending love to our allied realms. The additional light is being absorbed everywhere but here.”

  Freya plucked the Midgard screen from the air and zoomed in on an expansive beach house atop a stretch of white sand. She drew back to show lush foliage of the private island, an oasis awash in every conceivable shade of green. Surrounding the island was a sky blue sea, its surface barely marred by a gentle wind. “This location’s reflecting all of the light I’m sending it. It seems to be encased in some kind of a blocker. Possibly one strong enough to cloak a staging area for jotuns.”

  What?

&n
bsp; “That makes no sense. Why would they go to the middle of the Caribbean? Unless…” My heart thudded as I remembered the location of one of our lesser used Midgardian safe houses. “Do we have anyone on Asgard Cay right now?”

  Freya blanched. “We did.”

  “Who?”

  “I’ll fill you in later. The short answer is that the Cay’s last visitors evacuated when the fighting began. But the jotuns must know we still have Asgardians on Midgard. And they’re either going to use the Caribbean as a staging area for a realm-wide attack, or…” Freya’s head snapped up. Our eyes met in a moment of prolonged anxiety.

  “It’s a diversion. They’d know we’d protect the Cay—though Odin knows how they found another one of our safe houses.” I pulled the Jotunheim screen away from Freya and gave it a place of prominence in the center of the table. “Is there anything in Jotunheim that’s particularly vulnerable? Something they’d send an entire legion of warriors to protect?”

  I scanned the screen, swiping up with my fingertips to shift regions, and periodically drawing a city out for a closer view. It wasn’t until I reached the southern sea that my blood ran cold.

  “Naglfar,” I whispered. I jabbed my pointer finger into my wrist. “Call Tyr! Now!”

  Freya went white at the end of the table. “The jotuns know we’ll be watching our safe houses—the dark magic screen around Asgard Cay is just a distraction. They’re going for the ship.”

  I grimaced.

  “Tyr doesn’t have enough manpower to overcome an entire army,” Freya whispered. “Does he?”

  “He said he didn’t need any help,” I gritted. “Good thing I never listen to him.”

  The skin atop my forearm wavered as Tyr’s face came into focus.

  He didn’t look pleased. “I’m busy, Brynn.”

  “You’re about to be a lot busier. Give me your coordinates. I’m sending in a team.”