by Kate O'Hearn
Maya looked at Kai. “No wonder Brundi called it hell.” She finally turned to the young soldier and took his hand. “Thank you, Private Cornish, for the message and for your sacrifice in this. With your help, we can move this war away from Earth and take it to where it belongs—the very heart of Muspelheim!”
* * *
With each pounding footstep, Maya’s head was filled with visions of what could be happening to Freya at the hands of Dirian.
“Faster!” Kai called, as he put on more speed.
Maya’s heart felt as if it were about to burst as she kept up with her brother. The air in the tunnel was heating up and burning her lungs, but the urgency to reach Freya was driving them both on.
Soon the tunnel began to tilt up and they slowed to a jog. Up ahead they saw the pile of shoes that Private Cornish had told them about.
They were too tired to speak as they pulled on the shoes. Kai also found a stash of weapons and copies of a map leading to the keep.
“I must meet this Quinn,” he said as he strapped several swords to his waist. “He thinks like a Dark Searcher.”
Maya scanned their dimly lit surroundings, searching for a way out. She felt a soft, hot breeze on her face and looked up. Her eyes settled on a hole in the ceiling above them. “That’s our way out. I can feel fire giants, but they aren’t close. Now’s the time to move.”
They flew through the hole and emerged into darkness. Stars twinkled brightly overhead. Maya looked around to get her bearings and then pointed toward the Great City. “It’s this way. . . .”
Kai’s sudden screams shattered the stillness around them. He arched his back and then fell to the ground between tall blades of grass.
Maya landed beside him. “Kai, what’s wrong? What is it?”
Kai writhed in agony. “I feel Freya,” he gasped, barely able to speak. “She’s hurt. It’s her back. . . .” He struggled to reach the center of his back where his wings joined his body. “Something’s wrong with her back.”
Maya reached out to her brother. “Listen to me—suppress your connection to Freya before it cripples you. Do you hear me? Break the connection! Do it, Kai. Do it now.”
Kai lay on his side, moaning and panting. After a moment he spoke softly. “I—I’m all right now.” Maya helped him climb shakily to his feet. “Can you tell me what’s happened? What has Dirian done to Freya?”
When he looked at Maya, all she could see was rage. “I’m going to kill him—do you hear me? I swear, nothing is going to stop me from destroying him!”
“Just tell me what he’s done.”
Kai turned away from her. “That soldier was right—her body’s burned and it’s agony for her. But what that monster has done is worse.”
“Enough!” Maya caught him by the arm and spun him around to face her. “Tell me what’s happened!”
Kai balled his hands into fists and then drew his sword. “Dirian has cut off Freya’s wings!”
26
FREYA LAY IN A BALL on her side. She’d never known such pain. Her burning skin was nothing compared to the searing agony of the stumps on her back where her wings had been severed. She was unsure how long she’d been lying on the stone floor, or even how long she’d been conscious after she’d blacked out. All she knew was pain.
Freya could barely remember the fight with Dirian. Though, she knew she’d never forget the sound of his coarse laughter right after he’d sliced off her wings and kicked her in the side. . . . That memory she would keep for the rest of her life, however short that might be.
Lifting her head, Freya tried to look around, but moving made the pain worse. She could just about make out that she was chained to the floor of the War Room. The heavy metal collar she’d seen the elf holding was now secured around her neck, and the thick chain attached to it was locked to a large metal clamp buried deep into the thick stone floor. Above her, mounted to the wall like a prized trophy, were her severed wings.
Freya retched at the sight of them.
She put her head back down, and silent tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Don’t let him see you cry, Freya,” a soft, light voice called. “It will only give him pleasure. Just stay still and heal.”
Freya’s eyes followed the sound and peered across the vast, dark chamber. A young girl was chained to the opposite wall. From what she could make out, the girl was no more than eight or nine.
“Who . . . ? Who are you . . . ?”
“I am Skuld.”
“Skuld . . .” Freya tried to sit up, but she was overwhelmed with dizziness and fell back down again.
“You must lie still and heal,” Skuld called. “I’m counting on you—we all are.”
Freya’s head was spinning, and she had to shut her eyes to keep from throwing up again. Her broken ribs hurt almost as much as her wing stumps. She became aware of the tight, thick bandage around her midsection. Her breastplate had been removed and her wounds treated, but they had given her no pain relief. Dirian wanted her kept alive, but suffering. Each breath she took threatened to bring back the blackness of unconsciousness. But knowing it was Skuld chained to the opposite wall, Freya forced herself to stay awake.
“Where is he . . . ?”
“Resting,” Skuld said. “It’s night.”
Night? Freya tried to focus. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. How could she have lost so much time?
“Do—do you know why I’m here?”
“Yes,” Skuld said. “Please say no more. Evil ears are listening.”
“Let them,” Freya muttered softly. She lifted her head again. “Whoever’s listening, know this—I am going to get away from here, and when I do, I swear you’ll pay for what you’ve done. Do you hear me?”
“Strong words from a broken, wingless Valkyrie.” The female Dark Elf appeared from the shadows and crept closer to her.
Pain had blocked Freya’s senses, leaving her unable to feel the others around her. But it didn’t keep her temper in check. She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Come closer, Elf. I’ll show you how wings don’t define a Valkyrie—our strength does.”
The Dark Elf snorted with a high-pitched laugh that hurt Freya’s ears. “I must say, I do like your new look. Have you thanked Dirian yet? Now you can sleep on your back and wear clothing better suited to you. With a bit of soap and water and a proper dress, you’ll be a pretty little addition to his trophy collection.”
“I’m no trophy,” Freya spat.
“Oh no? Why else are you alive, but to please the master? Have you seen your wings lately? They’re his most prized possession!” More laughter followed. “It’s too bad the rain damaged the feathers before Dirian cut them off. They would have looked so much nicer on the wall if they were intact.”
Freya knew the elf was baiting her to look up at her wings again. But Freya refused. She’d seen them once—that was more than enough.
“This isn’t over, Elf. Soon I will be free, and you and the others will be punished for your crimes.”
The elf moved closer, but stayed out of Freya’s reach. “That’s what I like about you, Valkyrie. Even in complete defeat you are too stupid to realize that Dirian has won. Soon all the realms will kneel before him.”
“I don’t understand,” Freya said softly. “Why did the Dark Elves join him? What’s in this for you?”
“Nothing much. Just a sweet little realm we’ve had our eyes on for some time. I’m sure you know it. It’s called Midgard.”
“You want Earth?”
“Yes, and Dirian has promised it to us. Soon humanity will be our slaves. There will be no more warriors for Valhalla. And you, Valkyrie, will be there to see it all!” Her cackling laughter filled the chamber.
Freya was about to respond when her sense caught hold of her brother. It was only a brief flash before he suppressed their connection. But it was enough. Kai was in Muspelheim, and he was coming for her.
“Oh, Elf,” Freya said as she lay back down. “I will see thi
ngs, that’s true. But what I’ll see is something that will give you nightmares for the short piece of life you have left.”
“Pain has made you delusional.” The elf snorted as she returned to her guard post.
“We’ll see,” Freya muttered as she settled down again.
Kai’s arrival did more for Freya than all the healing potions in all the realms. If Kai was here, the others were too. All she had to do was keep Dirian distracted long enough for them to reach the keep and free Vanir-Freyja and Skuld.
She closed her eyes and blocked out the ranting Dark Elf. Freya needed to rest, to heal as much as she could before she faced down Dirian in their final battle.
* * *
The sound of voices roused Freya from her troubled sleep. The moment she woke, the pain swooped down on her as a constant reminder of what Dirian had done.
“Do it,” the Dark Searcher’s broken voice commanded. “Do it or I will make you suffer again.”
Skuld was whimpering softly. “Please, no more . . .”
“Do it now!” Dirian commanded.
Freya lay still but opened her eyes. Dirian was standing with his back to her, leaning over Skuld. The youngest Norn was curled against the opposite wall and weeping as a parchment and quill were thrust into her hands.
“Cross them all out . . . ,” Dirian commanded. “Or must I once again prove my absolute power over you!”
Freya was unable to see what Skuld was doing, but by listening to the exchange, she had a pretty good idea. This was how Dirian was ending his enemies. He was having Skuld cross out the futures of those whose names were written down.
After a moment she heard Dirian inhale deeply. “Very good. Now you may eat.”
He turned and faced Freya. “I know you are awake,” he rasped malevolently. “I can feel you.”
Despite the protests from her broken ribs and the screaming from her wing stumps, Freya pushed herself up into a sitting position. She considered trying to stand but knew she didn’t have the strength. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her fall.
“Is that how you amuse yourself,” Freya said to him. “Tormenting children and cutting wings off Valkyries?”
“I did enjoy taking your wings,” the Dark Searcher said as he strode casually toward her. “And there is yet more pleasure to be had in your pain. Let’s start with a bit of early-morning reading. . . .”
“You can’t read,” Freya spat, determined to keep him occupied. “You’re too stupid. You can barely even speak.”
The only reaction her comment caused was Dirian turning the parchment around and lowering it enough for her to see. “I can read and write well enough to draw up a very special list of names. I’m sure you’ll recognize them. These are the names of those who have no future. The moment my giants kill them, they will stay dead.”
Dirian bent down closer. “I did this especially for you. It took me a great deal of time and effort to discover all these names. Tell me, have I missed anyone?”
Freya didn’t want to see, but she couldn’t keep from looking.
Brünnhilde of Skiir—Valkyrie
Eir of Brünnhilde—Valkyrie
Gwyn of Eir—Valkyrie
Skaga of Eir—Valkyrie
Kara of Eir—Valkyrie
Maya of Eir—Valkyrie
Kai of Eir—Dark Searcher
Giovanni Angelo of Brünnhilde—Dark Searcher
Kris of Brünnhilde—Dark Searcher
Myriam-Elizabet of Giovanni Angelo—Valkyrie
Freya’s hand flew up to her mouth as she read the names of her family. A bright red line crossed through each of their names. Her senses told her that the red line wasn’t ink. It was Skuld’s blood. That was how the Norn would destroy the future of everyone Freya loved.
“Of course, your raven and dead human aren’t on the list—yet. But there will be plenty of time to add them later, after I take the throne. As for you, Freya, you don’t need to worry about appearing on any list. No, you and I will have a very, very long life together.”
Freya tried to snatch the parchment away to destroy it, but Dirian was faster and pulled it from her reach. “Temper, temper,” he teased.
The Dark Searcher rose and walked toward the chamber door. He reached into his cloak and pulled out Freya’s flaming sword. Pinning the list on the end of the blade, he stabbed the sword tip into the wood of the doorframe—posting the list for her to see.
“You’re a monster,” Freya uttered.
Dirian’s broken laughter echoed behind him as he stormed out of the War Room.
“I am sorry.” Skuld wept miserably. “He made me do it.”
Freya heard the pain in the Norn’s voice but couldn’t look at her. Her eyes were locked on the list. Dirian had condemned her entire family.
There was only one thing left for her to do, and Freya hated herself for having to do it. “Azrael,” she softly called. “Please, come to me. I need your help.”
Freya waited for the arrival of the Angel of Death. Last time she’d called his name, he’d appeared immediately. This time there was nothing. “Azrael, please, I need you.”
More time passed and still the angel did not appear. Horrible thoughts went through her head. Had he fallen in battle? Could he not hear her on Muspelheim?
Freya lay down again—crushed by despair. In all her life, she’d never felt so alone.
27
MAYA AND KAI FOLLOWED THE map toward the keep, flying high, above the prying eyes of the fire giants. The small villages they flew over grew into towns and then into the massive Great City. Past the city, the terrain gave way to villages and small settlements again. They soared lower in the sky as they approached the vast red desert rolling out before them.
As they flew near the desert edge, the heat rising from the sand hit Maya like a protective wall, designed to keep them out. Grazing against it was like sticking her wing into a blazing fire. It burned her skin and seared her feathers. Just as she was about to warn her brother, her senses picked up on dead humans and the Vanir.
“Kai, wait—I feel something.” Maya started to descend.
“Yes, it’s the heat from the sand. It’s reflecting and magnifying the sun’s rays. I’ve heard about this desert. It’s deadly. We have to find another way in.”
She shook her head. “I’m not talking about the desert; it’s something else. Follow me.” Tilting her wings, Maya continued down through the sky. She followed her senses to a single dwelling on the very edge of the red sands. “There,” she called to her brother. “The two Vanir are in there. Human soldiers are with them.”
They touched down lightly at the back of the dwelling. Maya pulled in her wings. Flying all night and into the day had taken a heavy toll on her feathers—especially her left wing, which had grazed over the edge of the desert sand. The feathers were frayed and tinder dry. If she touched them, they actually snapped.
Feathers weren’t the only problem. The intense rays of the sun had burned her arms and hands and any exposed skin. Muspelheim was everything she’d been warned about, and worse.
“I’m not sure how much farther we can go,” Kai said, making his own inspection of his wings. “My feathers are ruined.”
“Mine too,” Maya agreed. “I’ve heard the Vanir are very powerful. Maybe they can restore them.”
Raised voices came from inside the single-story hovel. It was too small to be a giant’s home. Low and squat, it looked as if it had been built for a dwarf or a troll. Maya approached the back door and forced it open.
“Help me,” cried a troll when he saw Maya and Kia enter the single room.
Maya welcomed the cooler air in the shady hovel as she and her brother entered. A troll was tied to a chair, while two figures stood before him. Maya could make out their beautiful wings. One of them turned around—a boy about Freya’s age, with a broad build and finely sculpted features.
“Valkyrie . . . ?” the Vanir boy asked, staring at her. He finally drew his eyes away, a
nd they landed on Kai. “I don’t know what you are.”
Kai stood to his full height. “I am Kai, a Dark Searcher.”
The boy inhaled. “You’re Freya’s twin brother!”
Kai nodded. “And this is our sister Maya. Are you Quinn?”
The boy nodded, smiling at Maya. “This is Skye.” He presented the Vanir girl. She was about the same age but with raven hair and bright, worried eyes. “And these soldiers are from Midgard.”
“What are you all doing here?” Maya asked. “Private Cornish found us in the tunnel and told us you were moving in on the keep. Why have you stopped?”
Quinn shook his head. “The desert. I was nearly roasted alive when I flew from the keep. It was still early morning, but the flight nearly killed me. It took all of my magic just to make it out of there alive.”
“Same with us,” the sergeant said. “When we tried to reach the keep, the sun came up and drove us back. Look how it damaged Skye’s wings.”
Skye showed them the burnt edges of her delicate butterfly wings. They were tattered and scorched. The skin on her arms and legs was peeling from intense sunburn. “Dirian positioned his keep well. No one can survive that desert during the day. We have to wait until the dark before we can risk going in again.”
Maya frowned. “But you’re Vanir. Surely your magic is strong enough to combat the sun?”
“Sadly not,” Quinn admitted. “I’ve never known such intense heat. Vanaheim can get warm, but not like this. It’s too much for us.”
Kai exploded. “This isn’t good enough! We must get to the keep now. Dirian has hurt Freya. He’s cut off her wings and broken her bones. . . .”
“What?” Quinn cried. “Is she alive?”
Maya nodded. “But she’s in so much pain, Kai had to break the connection to her just to be able to move.”