by Carrow Brown
In Asgard, they said some men had a face only a Valkyrie could love. David definitely had that kind of face. It appealed to me in a way the frat boy in the bar never would. Then again, I liked warriors and not prancing peacocks. All the time I had been taking him in, his gaze had not wavered. I asked, “What?”
He gestured to his face and chest. “You got a little something right here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha, ha. If I could find a nice way to say, ‘Fuck you,’ I would.”
His lips pulled back into a grin. “Then don’t use the nice way.” He reached out his hand toward me. “I’m David. David Cooper. Sorry about the bullet wound, nose, ribs, and concussion.”
“Like hell you are.” I grasped his hand in my own. Even through the dirt and grime, I could feel his calluses against mine. “Don’t worry about it. I’m the last person to apologize to in the grand scheme of things.”
He pulled the truck door open wider to let me climb into the seat next to Badb.
“If this isn’t important, Badb, I am going to be even more pissed. There is a client I need to meet tomorrow, and I’d like to get a few hours of sleep before then.”
“It won’t take long. Promise.” She snuggled up against me, rubbing her face into my blood-soaked clothes. “You smell good.”
I pressed a finger to her forehead and pushed her away. “Creepy, Badb.”
David had the truck moving in moments and remained silent as Badb rested her head on my shoulder. She looked out the side window, staring at the passing landscape, though part of me suspected she wasn’t looking at it directly.
“I am happy we did not die and were welcomed into the Tuath Dé,” she said into my arm, her hand seeking out mine in the dark. “We would’ve missed so much.”
“Infomercials and smartphones?”
She pulled away and swatted my stomach, but a smile pulled at the corner of her lips. “Change. There has been so much of it. Though I see it before it occurs, I am always amazed by it. By all man creates.”
I scrunched my nose. “And destroys.”
“True, but destruction is also creation.” Her expression shifted to something thoughtful. “I think you will change soon.”
“Oh?”
Her gaze shifted to me, but her eyes settled on my nose. “You want the world to change as well, but it won’t change if you won’t. It will get worse if you remain the same.”
“Vague and unhelpful, dear. You don’t get points for rewording a Gandhi quote.”
“It won’t always be vague.” Badb’s eyes drooped again. “It will make more sense to you than to me soon. Your destiny is always on the edges, hinted by your absence. Causality swirls always around you, but never upon you. It’s the opposite of everyone else.” She shifted her weight, leaning against me fully.
I tilted my head to peer at her and found the goddess fast asleep.
David asked, “Is she out?”
“Yeah.” I glanced up to see him looking at me through the rearview mirror. “You know where to go?”
He held up a folded-up map. “Yep, but if you want to co-pilot, please do.”
“I know the way. Do you speak the metric system, or do I need to use imperial?”
“Don’t worry, I speak metric.” He guided the truck through a quiet village before asking, “Is she okay?”
I looked down at the dozing goddess. “I suspect she used a lot of energy to find and bring you here. Poor Macha and Anann are probably out of their minds wondering where she is.”
“Who are they?”
“Badb’s older sisters. Celtic goddesses of war, fate, and death.” I looked up from the map. “So where did Badb find you? The battlefield? A graveyard? Goodwill?”
He snorted. “A coffee shop for a non-profit group I was doing volunteer work for. Is Ghost a nickname?”
“No, but it’s a basic translation of my actual name. Most struggle to pronounce it.”
“I’m a well-traveled man. Give me a shot.”
My lips pulled back into a grin. “Draugrrökkr Markvörður.”
I managed not to laugh at his widened eyes. He gave me a sheepish glance while he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, not that well-traveled. What language is that? Swedish?”
“Icelandic. Where’ve you been, well-traveled man?”
“I’m a Marine, so mostly Iraq, Syria, and Afghanistan.”
“Marine. I should’ve figured. You’re from,” I thought back to his clothes and a patch over the front of his jacket, the words B.A-something Arizona Chapter embroidered over it. “Arizona?”
He looked at me through the mirror for a moment and then back to the road. “I was living there before little miss picked me up, but naw. I grew up in Vermont on my family’s farm.”
My head tilted to the side. “Let me guess, you joined the Marines to get away from country life?”
“Not so much. Just woke up one morning and knew I was going to join the Marines even before the recruiter came. Eh, it called to me, you know? Besides, I didn’t want to be in a town where everyone knew my name for the rest of my life.”
I rested my head against the cool glass. “What’s your family do on the farm?”
“Apples and cows. Mom handles the orchard and dad takes care of the herd. Not by themselves, mind you. Got the seasonal help, and my sister and I do our part when we visit. They’re not going to die wealthy anytime soon, but they’re content.”
“Content but not happy?”
His eyes briefly met mine in the mirror. “Happiness is something I consider to be unattainable.”
My interest peaked. “Why?”
Only you would get interested in a philosophical discussion with a jarhead. Wake me when the yawn fest is over.
He shrugged. “I just consider it to be a fallacy. Throughout life, people strive to be happy, and when they think they are, they raise the bar or seek other things. I think seeking to be content is better because you’re more aware of your wants and needs. What about you?”
“I think happiness isn’t a permanent state of being. A lot of people forget and keep trying to be constantly happy not realizing it’s both subjective and situationally based. Not to mention, people change. What makes them happy one day may not another.”
David let out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. “Sounds like you’ve talked about this before.”
“I live with a scholar. We discuss science for breakfast, psychology during lunch, and mathematics for dinner unless we are doing a book study.”
“Wait,” his eyes met mine once more in the mirror, “you’re some kind of academic person?”
“If you mean I do it because I like it and want to, no. I’m more like a butler. I take care of the entire place and do whatever my Master needs to be done. Sometimes that involves having to engage in his studies with him.”
“What’s the pay for that?”
I barked out a laugh. “There isn’t. I have to work another job to take care of the financial needs of the Manor.” My appointment the next day, or the same day, sprang to mind, and I took out my phone to check the time. After some mental math, I decided it was possible for me to get home and grab about seven hours of sleep before I needed to be in Japan.
“What kind of work do you do, then?”
“It’s like a rent-a-cop, only I don’t get the fancy car with flashing lights.”
“Do you have a card?”
I arched an eyebrow. “With skills like yours, why would you want to hire me?”
David shrugged. “I just want your number. I’ve got a soft spot for chicks in tactical gear.”
My mouth opened then closed, thinking I’d misheard David. I reviewed it in my brain and decided I’d heard it right the first time. “Are you serious or teasing me?”
“I’m serious. I could die tomorrow and would rather do things than regret not doing them.”
I told myself the fluttering in my stomach was my body still digesting my meal. “I’ll think about it. Take the
next left. The cottage isn’t far now.”
David guided the truck down a gravel road until we came up to a van parked where the road narrowed into a thin gravel path.
“We’ll have to walk from here. The sisters don’t like cars by the cottage.”
David killed the ignition. “Roger.”
He hopped out and opened the door for us. With care, I scooped up Badb and shuffled out of the car. I cradled her in my arms. David kept close as we moved through the dark forest, only a sliver of moonlight overhead to guide the way. Through the trees, I spotted a light in the distance. It grew larger as we walked down one of the sloping hills to a bridge over a gurgling brook.
“I expected something eerie,” David said at my back.
The home of the Morrigan sisters wasn’t a place to inspire fear with its thatched roof, vines growing along the northern walls, and the welcoming light from the windows. It was the kind of place where a kindly old lady lived, waiting to help travelers. Beyond the normal respite and peace came a deeper feeling associated with sacred ground akin to any church or synagogue.
“The sisters represent more than death,” I said. “People just like to think they cover the places in bones and rot.”
We were halfway up the path when the door to the cottage flew open and a figure rushed toward us—Anann. A woman in her prime with long dark brown hair and comely features that a man would fight wars to come home to.
Her frame and fluid gait belonged to someone who practiced martial arts daily.
Another light blinked on by the door as an elderly woman hobbled after Anann with the assistance of a gnarled cane. Her face was one of kindness, accented by the many wrinkles along her mouth and corners of her eyes. She nodded as she reached us. Her eyes shifted from Badb to David with a troubled expression.
Anann kept her voice soft as she inspected Badb. “How did you find her? Is that blood?”
“It’s mine, she’s fine, and she appeared after I hung up. I’m fine by the way. Thanks for asking.” I passed Badb over to Anann and watched as she carried the younger goddess up the walkway to the cottage. I offered an arm for Macha, but she waved me off. Following the group, I said, “I didn’t know she got a new avatar.”
“We didn’t either,” Anann said as she paused at the doorway, leveling a scowl at the man.
David held up his hands. “She came to me. Not the other way around.”
Macha waved her cane in the air between Anann and David. “If he’s an avatar, then we’ll need him. Priorities, dearie.”
Anann huffed out a breath and turned to stomp into the house. Badb’s eyes opened, and she looked at me over her sister’s shoulder and winked.
Macha tapped my side with her cane. “Be a charm and stay here. Badb left me something to give to you.”
“Sure,” I said. “Not like I have anywhere else to be.”
“Don’t be a brat,” she retorted before limping after Anann.
My eyes inspected the doorway, and I leaned inside the cottage. Magic flared up against me, and the scent of sulfur filled my nose. I pulled away as I felt an uncomfortable heat rise about me and took a step away from the door for good measure.
“Are you going to invite me in?” I called. A query of pure formality by then. I ran my fingers over the ends of my hair and found the tips singed.
“No,” Anann responded from the depths of the house. “You can wait outside like a good man-eating monster.”
“Okay. Well, I’m going to use your hose,” I called and walked around to the back of the house. I heard David’s footsteps behind me.
Pulling off my jacket, I set it on one of the frosted lawn chairs and fiddled with the tap until the water flowed from the nozzle. Turning it toward my face, I scrubbed the skin with my free hand to remove the dried blood and dirt.
David asked, “Isn’t that cold?”
“Freezing.” I opened my mouth and flooded it with water before spitting it off to the side. “Valkyries are born of ice or fire—I happen to be ice.”
David grunted and leaned against the frame of the door. “You said Badb and her sisters are your friends. Why didn’t they invite you in?”
“Even my close friends keep a distance from me. It’s better to keep your friends outside since you never know when they’ll turn on you.”
“Sounds like a horrible way to live, always on edge?”
“Betrayal, love, and vengeance are common. I mean, you’ve read ancient Greek literature, right?”
“I skimmed it in school. Mythology wasn’t a huge interest for me.”
“And look at you now.” I leaned over to turn the water off and wrung the extra liquid out of my hair before it could frost over. “You’re caught up with the Celtic pantheon now. I’d hit up Wikipedia and at least get some surface knowledge if I were you. Did Badb tell you nothing?”
“She said I’d meet someone else who would explain things.”
That’s you. What’s it called when you push your work onto someone else again?
“Outsourcing.” I sighed. “I don’t even get paid for that.”
David smiled, a slow one that softened his eyes and warmed my insides. “So, about your card?”
Ignoring my fluttering insides, I grabbed my jacket and fished through the front pocket before offering him the card. “Here. Reasonable rates and customer satisfaction guaranteed.”
He took it and looked it over. “An enforcer? What’s that?”
“Enforcers are something between a police officer and a military response unit. We keep things in order when mythics get out of line.”
“You’re good?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I haven’t had a complaint, but I take the low-priority jobs.”
If you actually took the jobs you are capable of, and not just the good Samaritan ones, we’d have fewer money issues. Just saying.
David wiggled the card between his fingers. “Not only do you look like you could kick my ass, but I bet you probably can when you’re not handicapped.” His lips spread into a slow grin. “That’s hot.”
The pleasant feeling spreading throughout my body warred with my growing skepticism. I spoke, trying to keep the agitation out of my voice. “Did Badb put you up to this?”
His head slanted to the side. “Put me up to what?”
“Flirting.”
His smile melted away. “No, I’m just a forward kind of guy. Gets me in trouble now and then, but I never regret it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But if that’s not your thing—”
Macha choose that moment to hobble along the side the cottage with a pouch clutched in her gnarled hand. “Here.” She held it up to me. “Badb wanted you to have this.”
I took it with a mutter, pulling at the strings to look inside. Glowering, I pulled out a large playing card. I turned it over and saw it was one of the tarot cards depicting a hand drawn image of the Queen of Swords. My eyes scanned over the details, a pale woman standing with an open palm offered to the viewer. In her other hand, Silence rested in his standard machete form. Behind the figure, the Manor rose up into the starry night with the gnarled branches of Grave Wood reaching toward the sky with skeletal hands.
I turned the card to Macha. “Why does she look like me?”
The elderly woman shrugged before grimacing at the motion. “Who knows? Does anything in it stand out to you?”
I turned the card back, eyeing the Celtic knot design. “Nope, and knowing Badb, it won’t for another fifty years.” I flipped it up in the air and snatched it on the way down. “The joy of having soothsayers as friends.”
David lifted a hand. “Hi, new to all this. What’s a soothsayer?”
Macha sighed, her white brows furrowed. “Soothsayers are those who foretell possible futures. Fortuneteller. Mystic. If you know about the Fates, she’s the youngest of the three—the maiden.”
David remained silent for a moment. “Possible future? So, it’s not some linear thing? Pre-determined?”
I said, “If it
were, one of us would be winning the lottery. I’m not sure how it all works, but the majority of soothsayers are a little loopy. Something about looking into the future makes them all cray-cray. Or maybe you have to be cray-cray to see the future. Hard to tell.” I gave Macha a pointed look. “Every time I ask, the subject gets changed.”
She walked over to David with her hands held out for him. “Let us have a look at you, young man.”
Smooth, Macha. Smooth.
David opened his mouth to speak, but Macha stepped closer to him. She rested her hands on his shoulders as her eyes flickered to red as she viewed him magically. They shifted back to their hazel color as she sighed. When her hands pulled away, I noticed a tremble in them. “It’s true, she did make you her avatar.”
I asked, “Is that such a bad thing? Won’t he help ground her?”
Anann stormed out of the house and fixed me with a pointed look. She marched over to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pushed me to the side of the cottage. “I need you.”
“I didn’t know you were interested,” I cooed, once we were out of David’s range of hearing. “I’m very flattered.”
“Stop that. I just want to talk for a moment.” She glanced behind her and then back to me. “Badb isn’t doing well.”
“She had the energy to make an avatar. How bad can she be?”
Her expression darkened. “Ghost, it’s bad. Really bad. She up and left days ago and didn’t say a word about an avatar to Macha or me.”
“Soothsayers work in strange and mysterious ways,” I said, hooking my thumbs into the loops of my pants. “Who’s to say this isn’t part of the plan?”
Anann placed her hand on my arm. “Did she say anything odd when you found her?”
“Everything Badb does is odd.” I shrugged. “But nothing different from the normal babble about the world ending.”
Anann frowned. “You aren’t taking her warnings seriously.”