“What?” I said. How did her literacy have anything to do with her family?
She lowered the book, setting it carefully in her lap, and ran her fingers over the embossed cover. It was a collection of our stories, the myths men told about the gods. “Are you in here?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, I’m too young. And outside of battles, I’ve mostly tried to avoid the world of mortals.”
“Why?”
I knelt in front of her and flipped the book open. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Maybe because my father was fond of it. He met not only mortals there, but goddesses from other pantheons.”
Arnbjorg put a hand over mine to keep me from turning the pages. Her innocent touches always set me on fire, and I quickly looked away from her and kept my attention on the page. “You once told me your sword had a terrible secret,” she said. “It’s not in here then?”
“No, and I’m not entirely sure how it ended up in my possession.”
“What do you mean?”
I sat on the hay bale next to her and pointed to the book. “I can teach you to read if you’d like.”
“I’d like you to tell me this secret,” she whispered.
I met her gaze again and for the second time, quickly looked away. It was impossible to tell her no when I looked at her. But I hadn’t even told Yngvarr all of my dreams. “It grants the gift of prophecy,” I whispered back.
“How do you know it’s the sword and not one of your natural gifts?”
“Because I only dream about things that involve my sword.”
Arnbjorg seemed to consider this then pointed out, “That’s not a terrible secret, is it?”
“No,” I sighed. “Not really. But it’s shown me how I’m going to die. I’ve never even told Yngvarr about that part, only that one of my descendants will one day wield it. And I thought I would hate him for it, but I don’t.”
“Oh,” she breathed. She ran her fingers over the illustration of Frey holding his own enchanted sword. “Is it awful?”
“Is what?”
“Knowing how you’re going to die?”
“It’s confusing,” I said. “Even in my dream, I know my death is coming, and I don’t fear it. On the contrary, I welcome it. Why would I ever do that?”
“All of the major gods know their fates during Ragnarok, and they’ll each go into battle with the very thing that will kill them. At least, that’s true of the stories my father…” Arnbjorg bit her lip and studied the picture of Balder, who’d been one of Asgard’s most beloved gods, then closed the book, clutching it to her chest again. My heart hurt for her, but what could I do?
“It’s true of them,” I offered. “Once it’s been ordained, death is inescapable, even for us gods.”
“Still… what’s so terrible about this secret?” she asked.
“My sword is just a sword to anyone but me,” I explained carefully. “But in my hands, it’s light itself. The more enemies that are around me, the brighter it will glow until its power bursts and slays them all.”
“If you can kill your enemies so easily, how can you possibly be defeated?”
“That’s what I don’t understand. I lay down my sword—I let this god I’ve never met kill me.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, shaking her head, pleading with me. “Then don’t. When you see him, kill him instead. Don’t give him the chance to even speak to you.”
“Arnbjorg—”
“Promise me, Havard. Promise me you’ll fight back and not let him murder you.”
I never should have made a promise to her that I knew I couldn’t keep, but she was so desperate, so sincere, so filled with too much pain already. I could have pointed out her obvious oversight: in my dream about seeing my sword in someone else’s hands, I know he’s my descendant. And I didn’t yet have any children. One day, I would have a family, which meant I’d be intensely vulnerable for the first time in my life. My father’s power protected me as a child, and my own had always protected me as an adult. But a wife and children would one day lead me to my grave.
If I told her the truth, that I already knew I was dying for her, would she ever agree to marry me? Knowing that a life without her was no life at all, I said nothing except the words she wanted to hear. “I promise, Arnbjorg.”
Her grip on my fingers loosened, and she suddenly leaned toward me, kissing me gently. I was aflame, brighter than my sword, than any fire from any of the nine realms. She pulled back from me but just slightly, so that when she spoke, I could feel her breath on my lips. “I love you, Havard.”
I smiled and made her a different promise, one I could actually keep. “And I love you. I always will.”
The book slipped from her hands as I kissed her, but neither of us retrieved it from the scattered hay on the stable floor. I had no use for men’s legends anyway. The only story I cared about was here with me, and I knew how it would end. But the journey to get there would ultimately be my salvation.
Arnbjorg shot me a stern look and whispered, “You have to tell him.”
“I will,” I whispered back, perhaps a little defensively, but truthfully, I feared my sisters. And as soon as I told Yngvarr that Arnbjorg and I were getting married, he’d tell our sisters, and any involvement I thought I’d have in planning my own wedding would be over.
Yngvarr entered the dining hall and tossed a quiver onto the table. “You should have come with me, brother,” he said. “The geese were so plentiful, I couldn’t miss.”
Arnbjorg scowled at me, obviously sensing I was losing my resolve again. I groaned and gave up before she could change her mind about marrying me after all. “Yngvarr, we have news.”
He arched an eyebrow at me and waited, but the smile he gave me indicated he already knew. “Arnbjorg has agreed to marry me. We’ll have a ceremony here in two weeks.”
Yngvarr affected an air of confusion and innocence, so I groaned again, but that didn’t stop him. “I don’t understand, Arnbjorg. You’ve had a chance to live with him for over three months now, and you still want to marry him?”
“Don’t tease your little brother,” she scolded, but she smiled at him as she added, “And a thousand times yes.”
“All right then,” he laughed. “I’ll save the teasing for when you’re busy elsewhere.”
I’d often thought Asgard itself had ears and delighted in whispering secrets to those you most wanted to hide truths from. As Freyja bounded into the dining hall, her gold bracelets jingling to announce her arrival, I could tell by the expression on her face that she’d overheard us discussing our engagement. She put a hand on her hip and cast a disgusted glance in Arnbjorg’s direction before turning her attention to me. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” she purred. “Congratulations.”
I bristled at the obvious condescension in her voice but took Arnbjorg’s hand and smiled at the goddess whose affection I’d never return. “Thank you, Freyja. I hope you and Frey are able to attend.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said.
“Did you need something, Freyja?” Yngvarr interjected, and I thought again how grateful I was for my big brother, always looking out for me, always on my side.
“I came to extend an invitation to… well, I suppose your future wife,” she cooed. Nothing about Freyja’s presence here or her suspicious invitation sat well with me.
“An invitation to what?” I asked.
“To a gathering I’m hosting for the ladies of Asgard,” she replied. In all the years I’d known her, she’d never hosted a gathering for only women.
Yngvarr laughed, obviously finding her party just as ridiculous. Freyja rarely regarded women as friends. “And who is attending this party?” he asked her. “Who in this realm have you not estranged?”
Freyja narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms defiantly. “Frigg and Idun have already accepted, and Gerd and I frequently visit one another.”
“Your sister-in-law is one of the few women in Asgard who doesn’
t have to worry about you sleeping with her husband,” Yngvarr muttered, so I kicked him under the table. I’d been thinking the same thing, but I didn’t want to cause more tension between my bride and the goddess who viewed her as an obstacle to be overcome. Yngvarr yelped and glared at me, but I ignored him.
But Freyja ignored him as well. “I hope you’ll join us, Arnbjorg,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly. Freyja rarely did anything for anyone unless there was something in it for herself.
Arnbjorg was far too kind and gracious to refuse her though. “Thank you, my lady. I’m truly honored.”
Freyja’s smile broadened, and she gave Arnbjorg a time for the gathering before sweeping out of the dining hall in a musical exit. I exhaled slowly, still clinging to Arnbjorg’s hand, but she’d accepted and there was nothing I could do to save her from Freyja’s machinations.
She must have sensed the reason for my stormy mood because she kissed my cheek and told me, “Other goddesses will be there. It won’t be so bad, Havard.”
“Oh, Freyja’s up to something,” Yngvarr replied. “Just don’t feel obligated to stay if you become uncomfortable. Return home and let us deal with her.”
Arnbjorg nodded, but I doubted she would tell us the truth. It simply wasn’t in her nature to be spiteful and to stir up animosities.
I should have known she was too good for a world like mine.
Chapter Five
Keira was mid-yawn as she opened her hotel room door. She looked me over quickly and sighed, stepping back to allow me inside. “Please don’t tell me you’ve found the Sumerians now. It’s two a.m.”
“No,” I said. “Just had a few questions and didn’t really know who I could trust.”
She gave me a funny look and gestured to the empty bed, indicating I could sit down if I wanted. Honestly, I felt a little weird about being in her room at all, but when I’d awakened, pissed off at a goddess who’d never given me any reason to be pissed off at her, Keira had been the first person I’d thought of to help me make sense out of Havard’s memories. For some reason, I didn’t want Yngvarr to know about this particular dream, although I suspected it had something to do with Havard never sharing the specifics of the prophecy regarding his death. Maybe in some indirect way, I also wanted to protect his brother from the truth.
“I know you don’t like Freyja,” I finally said. “But I guess I just need to know if you think she’s capable of doing something truly despicable… like evil-level shit.”
Keira had been about to sit on the opposite bed, but she stood up straight again and her fingers curled into fists. “What did she do?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It was a dream.” I shared the entire thing, from their encounter in the stables to Freyja’s strange party, which was obviously some sort of ruse to get Arnbjorg away from Havard. Keira listened silently, but her face remained stony as if none of this surprised her. When I’d finished recounting the entire dream, she finally allowed her fingers to relax from the tight fists she’d kept by her sides and sat on the bed, staring at her fingernails for a few seconds before asking, “Why did you do it?”
“Um… wake you up in the middle of the night?” I mean, granted, it was pretty assholish of me to wake her up, but I thought she’d want to hear this.
But she shook her head and said, “Her. Why’d you sleep with her?”
“Oh,” I breathed. She might as well have punched me in the stomach. It probably would have been less painful. “I don’t know.” That was it? That was the only excuse I could give her? When nothing else came to mind, I sighed and gave up. I honestly didn’t even know how I felt about it. Mostly, I just regretted it.
Keira shrugged and tossed her blond hair over a shoulder as if it didn’t matter, but by now, I knew better. And maybe I’d ruined whatever chance we might have had by sleeping with Freyja, but Keira couldn’t pretend like those feelings didn’t exist. “I’m not sure if she would have been capable of hurting Arnbjorg,” she said. “Probably, but if her intention was to get rid of her competition, that wouldn’t be the way to go. Havard would have been so furious, he would’ve sought revenge. And it’s obvious by now that you’re also descended from Arnbjorg or you wouldn’t keep dreaming of her, too. Since they haven’t had children yet, I’m pretty sure whatever Freyja was really planning, it didn’t kill Arnbjorg or drive her and Havard apart.”
I thought about that then acknowledged she had to be right. “But it still doesn’t seem innocent at all,” I insisted.
“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t,” Keira agreed. “But even Freyja’s jealousy has its limits.”
“Her lust for gold turned her into a war goddess,” I argued. “That’s not much of a limit.”
Keira waved me off. “That’s just a story. She was always a war goddess.”
“If all of these memories are somehow etched into my DNA, why can’t I extract them all at once?” I asked. “Getting snippets like this isn’t helpful. In fact, it’s just annoying as hell.”
Keira shrugged. “I’ve never actually known anyone this has happened to. I’ve heard about it, but it’s so rare…” She seemed to think about my situation then decided, “We’ll go back to Odin, see if he can draw the memories out.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t trust anyone,” she claimed.
“I trust you.”
I couldn’t quite tell in the dim light of her room, but I thought her cheeks might have darkened as she lowered her eyes again, refusing to hold my gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. “Keira, what’s up with this prophecy of mine? You all seem to know something else about my fate and no one will tell me what it is. Freyja suggested I might die, but that’s it.”
“Knowing won’t help you.”
“How would you feel if everyone else knew something about your future but refused to share it?” She bit her lip but still said nothing, so I sighed angrily and demanded, “I’m going to die, aren’t I? It’s not a maybe, it’s an absolute.”
“Gavyn—”
“Just answer my question, Keira!” I yelled.
“Yes,” she whispered.
I’d expected to hear my death had been predicted and was unavoidable, but actually hearing it still took my breath away as if I’d been body slammed by Thor himself. They’d known all along I wouldn’t survive this ordeal, and yet, they’d come for me anyway. And now that I was here, my father and best friend and everyone I cared about was in danger even though I’d never wanted to be a hero.
We sat without speaking for a long time as I tried to process this not-exactly-revelatory revelation, and I couldn’t help thinking of my mom and hearing similar words from her oncologist when the cancer returned, metastasized, untreatable. He gave her six months to live. She survived eight.
She’d known her fate, and for eight months, I watched her look at the world differently, as if all the little details held new discoveries and a kind of beauty she’d never noticed before. I doubted the world would look any different to me. And I doubted I could ever forgive Keira for withholding this information from me, for forcing me to accept a role I hadn’t wanted and wouldn’t have chosen for myself, for sealing my fate.
I finally stood up and murmured, “I’m going back to bed.”
“Gavyn, I’m sorry,” she said.
But I shook my head and wouldn’t look at her. “No, you’re not. If you’d really cared about my life, you would’ve left me alone.”
“That’s not fair,” she cried. “We didn’t have a choice! Don’t you understand how many people would die?”
“Then you deal with the Sumerians,” I snapped. “All you’ve done is drag innocent people into a war I never wanted to be a part of.” Not only had we become pawns in their supernatural chess game, but the gods had decided for us that our lives were acceptable losses. And now, I had some dead god’s memories harassing me, trying to pull me deeper into Asgard’s secrets.
Well, not anymore. They’d try to stop m
e again, but this time, I wasn’t coming back. What was the point? I was going to die anyway. I stormed down the hallway to Hunter’s room and beat on the door until he pulled it open, scowling at me, his dark brown hair matted on one side and upright on the other. Cadros grunted at me and mumbled something about bad manners, but I ignored him and told Hunter to put on his shoes.
Cadros jumped out of bed and grabbed Hunter’s arm before I could even enter their room. “What are you doing, Gavyn?” he asked.
“What do you think?” I said. “We’re leaving.”
“Um…” Hunter chimed in. “Is that really a good idea considering a bunch of pissed off gods are looking for you?”
“What difference does it make if I’m going to die anyway?” I retorted.
“Gavyn,” Cadros started, but I wanted to hear his excuses even less than Keira’s. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm, forcing him to let go of Hunter, then pushed him away from us. He stumbled and tripped over his boots, landing on the bed behind him. I snatched Hunter’s shoes off the floor and nodded toward the door. But as we left, I called over my shoulder, “Tell your buddies not to follow me, because this time, I’ll kill whoever gets in my way.”
Hunter didn’t speak to me until we were standing outside the hotel, freezing on the sidewalk as sleet stung our faces and arms. Neither of us had the coats we’d been given. A taxi pulled up to the doors, and I realized I didn’t even have money for a cab. This was the worst escape plan ever.
“Think we can ponder our next move indoors somewhere?” he asked. I shivered along with him and nodded. We’d die of hypothermia long before the Sumerians had a chance to kill us.
But I didn’t want to go back into the hotel, so we crossed the street to a diner that was still open. The waitress shot us a strange look, not that I could blame her considering we were out in the middle of the night without coats, and Hunter was actually wearing Superman pajamas. I wanted to give him a hard time about it, but I was too damn cold.
Sword of Light Page 4