Renegade Valkyrie (Valhalla's Curse Book 1)

by Stacy Claflin

  “Getting tired?” There was a hint of teasing in his tone. “A little exercise doesn’t bother me.”

  A little? “Hey, I was only thinking of you. I could go all night.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  I stand taller. “Maybe it is.”

  “Okay. On your mark, get set, go!”

  Twenty

  By the time we reach the top of the hill, I’m out of breath and my muscles are on fire. The full moon makes everything brighter up here.

  If Fox is at all tired, he’s hiding it well. He leans against a tree and grins. “That was fun.”

  I suck in some more air, hardly able to get enough in, and plop to the ground. “Great fun. Too bad there isn’t another hill.”

  “Well, now that you mention it…” A look of mock-guilt crosses his face.

  “What?” I glance over at the other side of the hill. There’s another one just on the other side. “You said this was the last one.”

  “That might’ve been a little white lie.” He holds his thumb and finger a hair’s width apart.

  I shoot him a death glare. “Why?”

  “You were tired. I thought it’d give you more energy if you thought we were almost there.”

  “How far are we from her house?” I jump to my feet and stare him down as best I can given his height.

  “Honestly, it’s just over that hill.”

  “Somehow I find it hard to believe you.”

  Fox holds up his hands like I have a gun aimed at him. “I’m telling the truth this time. That’s the last hill.”

  “I should’ve known better than to believe a djinn. Fool me once—”

  “Want to read my essence? I’m telling the truth.” He opens his mouth.

  I just glare at him.

  “Or we can set up camp here. You know, risk those shadows coming back. But Calla’s house is just on the other side of that hill.”

  All of a sudden teleporting back home sounds most appealing. “It’s really just on the other side of that hill?”

  Fox nods. “Well, we might have to go around a lake. But I swear that’s right where it is.”

  I don’t know why I keep running into tricksters lately. Or why I trust them. “Right. What’s after the lake? The Loch Ness monster? A leviathan? No, don’t tell me. It’s an exploding volcano.”

  “In California?”

  “All mountains are volcanoes, Einstein.”

  “I don’t know of any that active right now. Not that it matters, I swear her house is over the hill and around the lake. No monsters that I’m aware of—not unless they’re new like those shadow creatures.”

  I groan. “Let’s just do this. You’re going to be the one worrying about tricks if you’re exaggerating in the slightest.”

  He opens his mouth again.

  I shake my head then march down the side of the hill, again slipping and sliding on loose dirt. “Somebody should really do something about this path. Aren’t there park rangers or something?”

  “Humans can’t even come here.”

  “Part of the spell?” I stumble forward.

  Fox grabs my arm and steadies me. “As far as I know, it’s been this way for centuries. Faeries were worried about it during the gold rush days. Blessed the area to protect it from being dug up.”

  “Interesting.” And annoying. Very annoying.

  We make our way down the hill and start up the next one.

  “Sure you don’t want to race?” Fox asks.

  I glower at him.

  “Just asking. For a friend.”

  Unable to stop myself, I laugh. It’s hard to stay mad at him.

  My muscles burn so bad it makes me worry about causing actual damage. I clearly haven’t been keeping myself in good enough shape. My superiors would be most disappointed.

  Not that I care.

  We reach the top. There are no more hills!

  “What’d I tell you?” Fox nods toward the lake down below.

  “I don’t see a house.”

  “Like I said, it’s on the other side.”

  I squint, trying to see a building. “The lake I see. There isn’t anything on the other side.”

  “It’s there.”

  “This better not be another trick, djinn.”

  He snorts. “It’s not. Come on. We’re almost there.”

  We bound down the hill, slipping as much as before but it isn’t as noticeable this time around. It seems bright down on the ground with the lake reflecting the bright moon.

  “I still don’t see a house.”

  “Trust me.”

  “Says the guy who admits to lying earlier.”

  “It was a little, teeny-tiny white lie meant to motivate you.”

  “Motivate me to hit you,” I mumble.

  He laughs out loud. “Did I ever mention I have good hearing?”

  “Did I ever mention I don’t care?”

  “Trust me.” He pulls me around the lake until we come to an empty field. “Ta-da!”

  “Congratulations? You found grass and dirt.”

  “No. Look harder.”

  I glance around, waiting for something to jump out at me.

  “You don’t see it?”

  “Is the house invisible?”

  He shakes his head. “Look.”

  I feel far too exposed as I glance around, not even sure what I’m supposed to be seeing.

  I’m about to chew him out when I see something. And when I say something, I don’t even know what it is. It’s like there’s a ripple in the middle of the air about the size of a full-length mirror.

  “What in hades is that?”

  “The entrance to her house.”

  “You’re insane. I’m leaving.” I spin around.

  He jumps in front of me. “I’m serious. We just have to walk through it.”

  “What is it? The doorway to another dimension?” I’ve heard those actually exist but have never seen one for myself.

  “No, to a hidden field.”

  “I can see one right in front of me.”

  “But the secret one will blow your mind.” Fox gestures toward the rippling air. “Trust me.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “And my essence proves you can, right?”

  “It did last night.”

  He grabs my arm and pulls me toward the ripple.

  I consider fighting him, but I’ve come this far. May as well see what’s on the other side since that’s what we came for. I need to find out what she knows, otherwise this entire trip has been a complete waste of time and energy.

  Walking through the ripple is like going through a waterfall, but without getting wet.

  As soon as we make it through to the other side, everything is as bright as noontime. The sun shines, birds sing, little faeries flutter around tending to the colorful array of flowers. On the other side of the field sits a golden-brown two-story home so bright it actually sparkles.

  Fox glances at me and releases my arm. “What’d I tell you?”

  “This is supposed to be a prison?”

  “She can’t get out and hardly anyone can get in. The sun never leaves and birds don’t stop with their singing. You spend a day here, and you’ll be itching to get back to the real world.”

  I find that hard to believe. The sun’s warmth melts away all my irritation from the trip here. It even removes the dirt and dust from the hills. My bloody scrapes from the shadowy figures even shrink until they’re gone. “This place is great! Will we still be clean once we step back out?”

  “Yeah, but we have to climb over the hills to get home. And who’s to say if we’ll run into those things again?”

  I study the little faeries with high concentrations of magic. Just a small amount of their essence should be more than enough for me to be able to teleport the two of us back home—even with as much teleporting as I’ve been doing lately.

  Fox nods toward the house. “Shall we?”

  “That’s why we ca
me.”

  We march toward the sparkling structure and the birds grow louder with each step. It’s overpowering by the time we reach the front door.

  He knocks, waits, then rings the doorbell. We wait some more.

  I glance in a window but can’t see anything because of a curtain. “Did she break free of the spell?”

  “I think this place is all contingent on her. Maybe she’s sleeping.”

  “In the middle of the day?”

  “It always looks like this.”

  I pound on the door. “Calla!”

  Fox shakes his head. “Let’s walk around to the other side. Maybe she can’t hear us.”

  “I thought you said she was sleeping.”

  “No, I said maybe.”

  “Probably should’ve called first.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  I give him a double-take. “You mean you can actually call to this place?”

  “It’s not on a different planet. It’s only hidden.” He plods down the steps and heads toward the back.

  I catch up. “Why didn’t you call her?”

  “Because it’s not like she could go anywhere. She’s stuck. Can’t go past the field.”

  We walk around the entire house, not finding her or a speck of dirt. Everything is so clean and bright and happy. It kind of makes me want to puke. “I can see why this place is a prison. What’s the inside like?”

  “The same. So clean it shines. You can try to make a mess but it disappears. It would drive you nuts. No way you could live in an uncluttered home.”

  I shove him. “Hey.”

  “Just sayin’.”

  “I wouldn’t be opposed to a self-cleaning house. I just have more important things to do than worry about a little clutter.”

  “A little?”

  I glare at him. “Come on. Let’s break into this house.”

  “Not sure we can, but let’s try.”

  We walk around again, searching for a way in but there are no unlocked windows or doors.

  “Is there another entrance?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Not even a ripple like how we came into the field?”

  “Can you see one?”

  The answer is obvious. I run over to the back door and bang on it, shouting for Calla. I’m so loud that the noisy birds actually quiet. But Calla doesn’t show.

  I turn to Fox. “I’m going to break down the door.”

  He frowns. “We probably should. What if she’s hurt in there?”

  Frustration surges through me. I let it turn into anger as I stare down the door, thinking about witches who use cruelty like a game. My wings threaten to explode out of my back but I barely manage to keep them in. I run toward the door, making contact with my shoulder.

  Twenty-One

  The door explodes on impact. Tiny shards of wood fly in all directions, including into my skin. I plunge forward into a neat, tidy, and cheery—of course—living room. My head hits the bookshelf first. Then my arm and side, but after that it’s a blur as books and trinkets fall on me, followed by the shelf itself.

  Before I have a chance to regain my bearings, the shelf flings off me and settles back into place. Fox steps aside, brushes his hands off, and helps me up. “Are you okay?”

  “Never better.” I dust off wood and broken trinkets from my clothes. “Let’s find Calla.”

  “I’ll check upstairs.” He bolts for the other end of the living room toward a hallway.

  “And I’ll look down here.” Although if she doesn’t join us after all that commotion, she probably isn’t here—imprisoning spell or not.

  I meander around the room, looking for any hiding places.

  There are none. The whole setup is open and inviting. I wander into a dining room and check under the table. Next, I head into the kitchen and open every cabinet, the fridge, and finally the pantry. All empty, not that I expected any different.

  Fox might have better luck upstairs, especially if she’s sick or injured. Though I don’t see how that’s possible in this sunny little plot of land. Even scratches from my grand entrance are gone.

  I wander into a laundry room before I find myself back in the living room. The mess from the bookshelf has returned to its state from before I crashed into it. Self-cleaning, no doubt. Curious, I turn to the front door. Back in place, fully restored.

  While I wait for Fox to return downstairs, I wander over to the big picture window and glance outside. Faeries continue tending to the garden and the sun is as annoyingly bright as ever, lighting the house.

  After a few minutes, I wander over to the hall Fox went down. It seems odd that it would take him so long to check out the upstairs.

  What if he disappeared too? A shudder runs through me at the thought. We have no idea what happened to Calla. What if the same thing happened to him?

  If he is missing, I’m going to stop making friends. That’ll be all the proof I need that people only end up hurt or worse after running into me. Although if that is the case, maybe I should try to make friends with Eveline.

  The little hallway leads to a staircase. Each step creaks, which is odd, given how shiny and new everything else is. Could these somehow be different? Perhaps leading somewhere else? To a place more sinister?

  My heart races with each step I take. I’m not nervous, though. I’m excited. After all the sunshine and joy, I’m ready for a little danger.

  Once I step off the last creaky stair, disappointment washes through me. The upstairs hallway is as bright and clean as the downstairs. I glance around, not seeing anyone.

  “Fox?”

  Nothing.

  “Calla?”

  Silence.

  I peek into the first room. It’s a sewing room with three different types of machines and several mannequins sporting clothes in various stages of development. Finished articles hang all around the room. But other than that, neither Fox nor Calla are in there.

  They also aren’t in the next two rooms I check, a bathroom and a guest bedroom. Does she get enough visitors to warrant a guest room?

  There are two more rooms. My breathing hitches as I reach for the door of the first one. A closet. Nothing other than fresh linens.

  One last chance before I have to figure out what to do next—on my own if Fox isn’t in there. Do I go back home? Call Gessilyn? Seek out Eveline by myself?

  I stare down the door, my pulse racing faster with each breath I take. Finally, I grab the knob and turn. Then I fling open the door.

  Fox spins around, his eyes wide. He’s standing at the foot of a king-sized bed which hardly fills the room, rifling through the contents of a box.

  “Where is she?” I step next to him and glance inside the box. It’s filled with papers.

  He drops one on the bed and picks up another. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. She isn’t anywhere. I’ve looked in every nook and cranny. This box is the only clue.”

  “What are those? Love letters?”

  Fox shakes his head. “Journals. Well, daily accounts. There aren’t any actual journals. Just entries.”

  I pick one up. In fancy script, Calla writes about her day in this spellbound world. Happy but boring.

  Fox takes it. “They’re all like that. She gets up, eats, goes outside, makes some clothes, eats, and goes back outside. Rinse and repeat until she finally goes to bed. I don’t know why she would write it all out every day.”

  “To keep her from going cray-cray?” I grab another paper, and sure enough, it’s almost exactly the same as the other one other than the date.

  “Is she trying to tell us something?”

  “Did she know we were coming?” I read another note, filled with the same writings.

  He frowns. “Not us, specifically. But anyone who might come and look for her.”

  “You’ve got me.” I drop the paper and wander around, stopping only to glance outside. “If something was wrong, wouldn’t the faeries be upset? They tend to be hypersensitive to chan
ge and negativity.”

  Fox shrugs. “If something went wrong long enough ago, they may have forgotten.”

  “What could go wrong here? It’s so happy and perfect. If something gets disturbed, it just fixes itself.”

  “Yep. It’s beyond cheery. It’s downright creepy.” He scratches his head.

  “Right?”

  “So, where is she?”

  “Maybe she was released from the prison. Her sentence might have been up.”

  Fox shakes his head. “Seems doubtful. This wasn’t a lawful punishment. When have you known a witch to throw kindness into a spell?”

  “You’ve clearly never met Gessilyn.”

  “She’s the exception to the rule then.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Definitely.” He returns the paper to the box and slides it under the bed.

  “We’d better leave. Calla can’t help us.”

  “She might if we came bearing the ingredient she needs.” He frowns. “We can get it.”

  “I know we can. Why are you telling me that?”

  He glances around. “Maybe she can hear us.”

  “How?”

  “She’s not supposed to be able to leave. I’m certain this whole curse is connected to her. If she were free of this place, it would cease to exist. At least like this. It would be night just like all the area around it, outside the ripple.”

  “Then where would she be?” I stare him down, frustration building again. “There’s literally no place else for us to look.”

  Fox’s eyes widen. “Unless the spell is blocking us from finding her. What if…?”

  “What? Speak up!”

  “She could be right here with us, but we just can’t see her.”

  “I’d say that’s ridiculous, except we’re dealing with a cruel witch. What are we supposed to do? If she knows anything, she can’t tell us.”

  He taps his foot. “Unless she can.”

  “How?”

  “She can write these notes, right?”

  I nod. “Your point?”

  “Maybe she can write something we can read. We can’t see each other, but we could possibly still communicate.”

  “That’s pretty far out there.”

  “She has to be here.”

  I notice a pad of paper on a desk. “Okay. Start writing.”