by T. G. Ayer
"You don't put the einherjar inside the computer. It's meant to hold information. And that is just a photograph of her, not the actual person."
"Oh, I think I understand." Sigrun's eyes twinkled. "And I apologize if I have been a pain in the donkey."
I did a double take. "Huh? A pain in the donkey?" It took me a second to figure out what she meant. Joshua snorted again, this time loud enough for Sigrun to hear. Both Joshua and Aimee were red in the face and teary eyed, trying really hard not to burst out laughing. I truly understood their predicament. I glanced at Sigrun, whose expression of complete innocence made it so much harder for me to hold back the giggles. "Er . . . it's not pain in the donkey. It's pain in the ass."
Sigrun nodded. "Yes, a donkey and an ass. They are the same thing, are they not?"
I shook my head. "No, the ass in that phrase has nothing to do with a donkey."
"It doesn't?" Poor Sigrun was having a hard time understanding. And just maybe I wasn't doing a very good job of explaining either. "Then what does ass mean?"
I schooled the muscles in my face, willing them to behave and forcing the grin to stay off my lips. "It means behind or bottom."
"It also means rear end, butt and backside," Joshua piped up just before he and Aimee dissolved into a fit of giggles. I was horrified. I turned back to Sigrun, afraid I'd need serious damage control, but I needn’t have worried.
Sigrun herself was giggling, her hand in front of her mouth, cheeks pink at the hilarity.
I aimed a critical glare at Aimee and Joshua. "You guys better behave yourselves. I'm not getting into any more trouble because of you," I admonished, despite knowing I was just as guilty.
I turned my attention back to Fen and Ingrid, who were thankfully still busy ignoring us. They spoke in hushed, worried whispers. I stared at the computer screen and at the face of the next Warrior to join Odin's ranks. But before I could get more than a quick glance, Ingrid shot me a stiff glare and turned the laptop away.
I scowled. Then sighed, although I really wanted to growl my frustrations at her.
"She is really a very nice person, you know."
I cringed, aware that Sigrun had the strangest way of picking up on my thoughts. "Of course she is," I responded, a little too quickly. "I never said otherwise."
"I saw the way you two looked at each other." Sigrun stepped aside to allow an Ulfr to pass by, his hands filled with files and papers. "Ingrid feels threatened. This is the first time a Valkyrie has ever been given the position of Team Leader. It had always been a Warrior until Fenrir decided to give her a chance. And she has taken her responsibility very seriously."
"And she sees me as a threat?"
"Not a threat. Just different."
Different.
My hackles rose at the mere thought of the word. For a brief moment, flashes of memory taunted me, painful images of my pathetic struggles with being different all my life, starting with that first visit to a psychiatrist at age five to find out why I claimed to see golden auras around people. What would my old psychiatrist think now if he knew the glowing people were in reality Warriors of Valhalla, the brave chosen ones who would fight for Odin at Ragnarok?
Even as a teen, I was always the outsider, the different kid, the newcomer. Alone in Midgard, alone in Asgard.
My silence drew a small punch from Sigrun. "Stop being silly. I know that look. You are different. But in a good way, a special way."
I smiled, my heart a lot warmer that it had been five minutes ago. Sigrun had a way of always putting me at ease. But peace was the last thing I could attain right now.
Fen and Ingrid's raised voices drew my attention back to the computer. He beckoned us all to come over to the table. "Attention, team. I have the details of our mission." He waited only seconds for us to move closer before he filled us in on the new einherjar. He outlined the Retrieval very briefly, but I gave him only half my attention.
My thoughts remained fixed on the woman on the monitor and the words that blinked beside her photograph.
Retrieval: Medeia Karim.
Retrieval meant this woman was about to join the ranks of Odin's most prized Warriors.
And it also meant she was about to die.
Chapter 16
We kept silent as we absorbed the details of the mission. I guess even the most seasoned of Asgard's Warriors didn't take death for granted.
Fen's attention shifted from the laptop to the whiteboard with its multicolored pins. Arms folded, he studied the pin placements as if the fate of the world lay upon his Ulfr shoulders.
I stepped closer to the board. "Fen?"
He turned to me, the worried look in his eye making my stomach twist. I'd seen that look before. On our last mission to LA. Somehow I didn't want to know any more.
"This should not be happening." He shook his head, the movement sharp and angry. He met my eyes, his frown bleeding darkness and worry into the crevices of his face. Then he turned on his heel and went back to the laptop, tapping the keys and bringing up a map of the world. This time, his computer savvy made no impression.
"It is all the black pins that are worrying him," Ingrid said softly beside me.
"What do they mean? The black pins?" I still wasn't sure I liked her all that much, but I saw her with different eyes now, aware that she had a huge pile on her plate.
"Every black pin on that board indicates a Warrior we have lost."
"Lost?" I shook my head. Behind me, a wave of concerned questions swept through the rest of the team. Fen's dark frown and the sad tinge to Ingrid's eyes screamed that something was very wrong.
"They are all dead." Whatever warmth had flickered in Ingrid's expression in the last few sympathetic moments disappeared as her jaw clenched and her attention returned to the laptop.
I frowned. Warriors were supposed to be dead, and although I wanted to say as much, something in the air—a certain, sudden fear of what she might confirm—made me wait for her to elaborate in her own time. Maybe I could ignore the cold fingers of instinct, which held my gut in its tight fist. Maybe I was wrong and this had nothing to do with the lost einherjar in LA.
"Over the last three weeks, every Warrior we have found and tried to retrieve has turned out to be irretrievable." Ingrid walked toward the map, gesturing at the clusters of black pins that stabbed into various locations on the northern tip of the African continent. Cairo sat surrounded by black with only one green pin left. "This pin is the last Warrior we have on our list. Medeia Karim. After her, it is a waiting game until the next Warrior turns up."
Dread sat coiled and heavy in my gut. "Why were they irretrievable? Were y . . . were we too late?" I used the word we because I sensed the other Valkyrie would take offense at anything that sounded critical of her performance. Sucked to be Ingrid on this watch.
"No, we were on time. They just were not retrievable. They had all stopped glowing." Ingrid and Fen shared a covert look, and Odin's general gave her an almost imperceptible nod.
Beside me, Sigrun's wings gave a tiny flutter, and I felt mine shiver too, as if fear had evolved into a cold breeze running its fingers through our feathers.
"The fact that they had stopped glowing so soon was strange enough, but . . ." Ingrid paused, taking a short breath, the skin on her face tightening before she continued. "Each body we found was covered in a strange oily substance." My heart plunged and her words blurred, but I forced myself to listen, even though all I could see was a film of oily black gloop. "We have been unable to identify the liquid. We assume it is the reason the Warriors do not glow any longer."
She looked at Fen, who crossed his arms and addressed the team. "I have not been able to identify it, either. And neither has Odin. It is indeed a strange poison, and though I have also seen it myself, I have been unable decipher what we are dealing with." He sighed. "For this reason we need to get moving. We need to learn more. Tracking Karim is the most important thing right now, not only because she is our only new einherjar at the moment. Her
life is in jeopardy, too. We need to find out how they are getting to the new Warriors, and who is it that is killing them. Valkyrie Ingrid has her teams spread out around the city, and we will help to keep a close eye on Karim. Do not interfere no matter what. All you are here to do is to watch."
I wasn't sure I liked the idea of standing back and watching someone meet their death. "So what do we do next? We stake her out?" I asked. The whole spy thing sounded cruel. Were we just supposed to watch her die? Even if a Warrior's natural death was temporary, she would still feel pain and fear. What bothered me most was that now, for the first time, a new Warrior's human death could actually be permanent; we could lose them forever.
"Each team will take a locality that Karim is known to frequent, and will keep an eye on her. You will have satellite phones and cell phones to keep in touch." Fen pointed to a pile of phones on the table. Everyone grabbed a cell plus one of the bulkier satellite phones and pocketed them. Sigrun paused to inspect a cell phone that fitted perfectly within her palm and gleamed silver in the harsh fluorescent light. She frowned, her expression making it clear she had no idea what the device was. But she tucked the phone away without asking any questions. I made a note to get her up to speed as soon as possible.
"We will follow her until she meets her end," Fen continued. "It is imperative we retrieve her as soon as it's time for her burial. Any longer and there is a chance we may lose her too. Whatever is happening to them seems to happen between the funeral and the time we go to get the body."
Ingrid and Fen spoke to each team, discussing individual locations and specific requirements for each pair. Then Ingrid added, "Karim is our only Warrior left in Cairo. This Retrieval must not fail." She walked to me, her face dark with tension and a trace of fear. "Valkyrie Brynhildr, you and Mika will observe Karim today." Ingrid handed me a battered leather satchel. Inside I found an envelope stuffed with money—and directions to a café on the outskirts of the city. I stuffed the phones inside, threw the bag over my shoulder and nodded, accepting her authority with that one small movement.
Ingrid's face softened, the change almost imperceptible. "Protect her. We have lost too many Warriors these past weeks, Valkyrie Brynhildr."
A few minutes and one stone staircase climb later, Mika and I stepped out into the cool night to find a pair of bicycles leaning against the wall beside the door.
"You've got to be kidding me!" I blurted, somewhere between a laugh and a growl. "Bicycles?"
"Is there a problem with the particular method of transport?" asked Mika.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah! I've never ridden a bicycle with a pair of enormous wings on my back before. I'm going to have major issues with balance." That, plus the fact that the muscles in both my shoulders and my wings were still sore from flight training.
Mika examined the bike, then smirked. "I can see where you would have difficulties."
Damned if she wasn't finding my predicament funny. Nice to discover my new Ulfr partner had a sense of humor. Not so nice to have her grinning at me as I struggled to figure out how to sit on the bicycle without falling flat on my face.
"Okay, here goes. And you have to quit laughing, or I'll have to ask Fen to find me another Ulfr."
Mika giggled. "Not much chance of him agreeing to that, you know."
"Why ever not?" I swung a leg over the bike, settling my wings on either side of the frame. After lowering myself carefully onto the cracked leather seat, I stiffened, deathly afraid that the weight of all those feathers and bones would tumble me to the ground, wings, wheels and all. Almost as an unconscious thought, I threw a glamor over my feathery appendages. We were meant to blend in, not appear and disappear on a whim. With a foot on a pedal, I teetered on the two wheels, then steadied myself. I glanced over at Mika, waiting for her answer.
My bicycle's wheels squeaked as we covered a few miles of dusty ground, and I wondered if Mika would avoid my question. But she sighed, staring straight ahead as she said, "Fenrir is afraid of your friend Joshua."
"You're kidding, right?" I laughed. "Fen's not afraid of anyone. It's Joshua who's scared of him."
"Perhaps afraid is not the best word." Mika frowned. "It is about who I am."
"Huh? Is there some rule against fraternization between Warriors and Ulfr?"
Her lips thinned into a cold line, the chill also entering her eyes. "No. There is no such rule." She stared pointedly at me as she continued, "The only rule for Fenrir is no fraternization with his offspring."
My lips formed a silent, "Oh boy."
I forgot to swallow, and although a shiver of surprise snaked through my body, I said nothing. Then I was tempted to laugh. Poor Joshua. As fathers went, Fen would no doubt be a protective one.
And Mika was Fen's daughter.
***
At least the whole balancing act on the bicycle took my concentration off Mika's revelation. Though not for long. I managed to find the best position, the correct angle in which to lean forward to ensure I didn't fall on my ass or on my head. The bike shuddered as its wheels struggled along the dusty street, but I managed to remain upright. And even though I knew that bikes were pretty sturdy contraptions, the combination of my weight plus that of my wings worried me. The old bicycle's almost flat tires didn't look up to the job.
Thankfully, we didn't have that far to go.
A dozen minutes of stressful cycling later, our destination appeared up ahead. A dozen minutes in which Fen's strange behavior fell into place. Now I knew the reason Fen made sure Joshua and Mika weren't paired together. He was just a dad protecting his daughter. A dad way too powerful to cross. Poor Joshua.
We propped the bikes outside a little coffee shop populated by tourist types with large voices, large appetites and large wallets.
We entered the bright eatery, just two young girls dressed in black. I pretended not to notice the two blond guys giving us the once-over; maybe the black outfitting had been a cool idea, but I just wasn't sure that the whole black boots and black coat getup would serve to camouflage us. From the looks of our two admirers, I'd say not.
We chose a table looking out onto the street. Mika sat with her back to the huge glass window while I lowered myself carefully, glad I'd found a corner seat to avoid some unsuspecting customer walking into a pair of invisible wings. Our little march through the center of the souk had certainly taught me a few lessons.
The seat creaked, the crisscrossed fiber cords in the seat of the chair stretching to the danger point; I feared that the old wooden chair wouldn't hold up under my weight. Propping my elbows onto the table seemed to ease the strain, and my stress, a little.
By now, I was so used to the weight of the wings that I automatically did everything to accommodate them. Walking, sitting, even sleeping had ceased being uncomfortable, and I was pretty glad for it. I'd grown to love my wings. Grown to love the very idea of what it meant to be a Valkyrie.
We ordered coffees, shelling out strangely large paper money, provided within Ingrid's bag of surprises. I scanned the bag's contents: money, a cell phone and a satellite phone for emergencies.
And two handguns.
Mika leaned forward, and I tilted the bag so she could get a glimpse of the gleaming dark metal. When she raised a cool eyebrow, I just shrugged. "Guns?" I asked, wondering at Ingrid's intentions. "Hardly our weapon of choice." We were well kitted out weapon-wise; beneath our coats, inside boots and strapped to thighs we'd hidden our requisite swords and a handful of small knives.
"Perhaps we will need them." Mika sipped at her coffee.
I lowered the bag out of sight. "Even if we needed them, I hardly see the sense considering we've had zero weapons training."
"You mean you have had zero weapons training." Mika smirked.
I paused, startled. "You mean Fen's been training you guys? With guns? How come we haven't had weapons training, then?"
For just a moment, Mika appeared shocked, the color draining from her face—such a short moment that I was sure I'd i
magined it—but she recovered swiftly enough, deflecting my questions. "I am not sure who has received the training and who has not. I would think that all Midgardians would already be adept at using Midgard weapons."
She tightened her jaw, tension coming off her in waves, and sipped at her coffee, avoiding my eyes. "This coffee you Midgardians drink, it is pleasant enough," she finally said. I frowned at the Ulfr's abrupt change of topic, but said no more. Maybe Fen was still meaning to train us with Midgard weapons. Or maybe Mika didn't know as much as she thought.
"How long do think we'll have to wait here?" I played my part at keeping the subject changed.
Mika shrugged. "Hopefully not too long. The coffee has good flavor, but I much prefer Mead." Her tone still remained cool and conversational.
"Sorry." I laughed softly. "I'm pretty sure they don't serve Mead in Cairo. Or anywhere in Midgard for that matter."
I managed to thaw her icy reserve, and we made small talk, which somehow grew into a discussion on Egyptian mythology. Mika surprised me with her wealth of knowledge. I listened intently. My introduction to Asgard and Hel and even Muspell had made one thing clear. For all I knew, Ra and Isis and even Zeus and Hera were as real as I was.
"Where did you learn about Egyptian mythology?" I asked, thoroughly curious now.
"Books." Her eyes twinkled.
"Books?"
"Yes, information is written on pages, then the pages are bound together—"
"Ha ha, very funny." I smiled. Despite our differences of opinion on the spice merchant, I found I quite liked Mika.
Odd that Sigrun had never mentioned Fen's child to me. But knowing Sigrun, she wouldn't have thought it necessary to tell me.
So who would be the one to break the news to Joshua that the love of his life was Fenrir's daughter? Poor guy. As boys went he was majorly hot, but for some reason he'd never been able to hold down a long-term relationship. Guess Craven hadn't had enough nice girls anyway. That led me to wonder if Mika was as taken with my poor friend as he was with her. I opened my mouth to ask her just that, but I never got the words out.