by S. T. Bende
“Him who?” Janna raised her blade. Then she swore.
Loudly.
My heart froze as a small, black disc appeared above the truck. It expanded until it was the size of a door, then shook violently. The air around us crackled, and a gust of wind sent me flying onto my backside. By the time I’d managed to stand, the hole had disappeared.
And the balboa along with it.
Axel and Raynor swore in tandem. Janna slammed her fist into her thigh. And our normally stoic light mage let loose with a shout of frustration that sent a nearby cluster of trash-eating seagulls soaring for the skies.
Holy. Mother. Frigga.
“Is it . . .” Brigga peeked into the bed.
“Gone,” Janna confirmed.
“How?” I asked. “It had to be Sverrir, but Torstein didn’t use magic. We didn’t see him following us. How did he come from out of nowhere and suck an object right out from under us?”
“That’s what he does.” Torstein cradled his head in his hands. “I was on my guard, but he still managed to . . .”
“Hey.” I sheathed my sword and walked to his side. “You did your best. We all did.”
“And yet, here we are. Again.” Torstein’s eyes were bottomless pools of pain.
“Is this it?” Brigga asked timidly. “Is it over now?”
“It’s not over until he gets the dagger,” I swore, “which he’ll never do. I will die before I let him get his hands on Freia’s blade.”
“And I will die before I let anything happen to you,” Axel vowed.
Worry churned in my gut. I had no doubt my boyfriend would make good on that promise. But I couldn’t have him putting himself in danger for me. If he did, and if anything were to happen . . .
Don’t go there, Ingrid. This is not the time to fall apart.
As I looked into Axel’s eyes, I knew he was thinking what neither of us wanted to say. Things were bad. Very bad.
It would take a miracle to save Valkyris now.
Chapter 13
SATURDAY CAME MUCH TOO quickly. We all knew the winter formal would be our last hope. In a little more than twelve hours, the planets would align, the crystals would re-charge, and Sverrir would have his chance to destroy everything we’d worked to build. The only thing standing between us and total annihilation was the magical dagger strapped to my back . . . which meant that as much as this mission was a team effort, I was the last line of defense—for the future of Valkyris, and the lives of my friends.
Just. Don’t. Blow it.
With so much riding on tonight, Janna, Brigga, and I opted out of taking the Kappa Mu bus to San Diego. Instead, we packed up our things, loaded them into Torstein’s SUV, and drove with him, Axel, Raynor . . . and Bodil. Knowing the alignment was tonight—and that it was likely her only chance to actually see Sverrir before he made his play to destroy our world—she’d insisted on coming with us. Torstein had agreed. He’d keep her safely in his hotel room until the alignment began. What he hadn’t told her was that his protections were weakening . . . and that the dark magic would take her soon.
I hoped she got the peace she needed.
Leaving the sorority house was bittersweet—whatever tonight’s outcome, we wouldn’t be coming back. If Sverrir was successful, our world would disappear . . . and we’d likely blip out of existence right along with it. But his failure depended on our fighting for our lives . . . and possibly losing them in the process. The best-case scenario was for us to fight, win, and live—a highly unlikely outcome that would result in our safe and swift return to Valkyris via magic dagger transport. In none of these scenarios could we return to the cheerful warmth of Kappa Mu.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
My fingertips grazed my bedspread as I took one last look around the blue and silver, snowflake-themed room that had been our home for the past few weeks. We may not have been the “Norwegian exchange students” our housemates believed us to be. But they’d welcomed us into their sisterhood and given us hope that someday, the brutish ways of the Viking tribes would be laid to rest. More societies like Valkyris really were possible, if only we had the strength and patience to build them.
I clung to that thought on our two-hour drive south.
“Do you want me to fix your pillow?” I asked Bodil quietly. The two of us sat on opposite sides of the back row of Torstein’s SUV. Bodil’s legs were stretched across the middle seat, and her back was propped against the window. Her skin was pale, and her eyes had dark circles. But she held herself with a regal grace—she had the air of a warrior determined to complete her mission.
“I can do it.” She reached a shaky arm behind her and slowly nudged the pillow higher. She rested her head against it, a thin sweat coating her forehead.
I placed my hand on her arm. “Are you sure you want to do this? It can’t be easy to see someone you used to love in, well . . . in the state he’s in now.”
“I know it doesn’t make sense. And I realize there’s likely no reaching him. But if there’s any chance I can help you take him off this path . . .” Bodil smiled sadly. “Wouldn’t you do anything to help Axel?”
“Of course,” I said without hesitation.
Bodil glanced at the wavy, brown man-bun seated in front of us. “He’s an honorable man, Ingrid. The two of you are good for one another.”
“True,” I said with a smile. “Though we definitely get on each other’s last nerves.”
“You challenge each other,” Bodil corrected. “The best relationships do. I hope you never forget how special your bond is.”
“I won’t,” I said quietly. “But I do worry.”
“About?”
“I care for Axel a great deal.” I bit down on my bottom lip. “And our jobs are dangerous. We’re in life-or-death situations almost daily on this mission, and gods only knows what the next one will bring—if we’re lucky enough to live to see it. Some days it’s hard to not let fear overwhelm me. I don’t know how you survived for so long without Sverrir, but I don’t think I could have done it if I were in your place. You’re a stronger woman than I am.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” Bodil smiled softly. “You’re every bit as strong as me. You consistently rise to any occasion that is thrust upon you. As you will continue to do.”
“I don’t know about that,” I muttered.
“Well I do,” Bodil said forcefully. “You’re a true fighter, Ingrid. And so is Axel. You believe in what is good and honorable, and you share this light with the world. The two of you are perfectly suited to one another. Such a match is a rare blessing. And as such, the gods will endeavor to protect it. Besides, worrying never helped anyone. And it certainly never changed the course of events—not for the better, at any rate.”
Bodil’s words loosened the knot that had taken up permanent residence in my chest. In that moment, I knew I couldn’t hold onto my fear any longer. Whatever the future held, I needed to enjoy every moment of the time Axel and I did have together. The arrogant, overprotective assassin owned my heart. He always had, and he always would—no matter how much he drove me crazy. Worrying wasn’t going to change whatever might come. But it would destroy the time we did get to share. If I were to die tomorrow, I wanted to do so knowing I’d lived every moment with Axel to its fullest.
“Thanks Bodil.” I tilted my head. “How do you already know us so well?”
Bodil’s lips pressed together in a wry smile. “When you spend gods-only-knows how long trapped in a frozen wasteland, you learn to be perceptive.”
I could only imagine.
Bodil coughed, the rasping sound rattling her chest. Axel turned around and held out a bottle of water. “Do you need a drink?”
“Thank—cough, cough—you.” Bodil brought the bottle to her lips. When she’d finished, Axel took it from her trembling hands.
“Let me know when you need more,” he said gently. Bodil nodded.
“See?” she murmured when he turned back around. �
��A good man.”
“He’s okay,” I said with a wink.
Bodil reached over to rest her hand on my arm. “Just enjoy one another,” she urged me. “You never know what the future holds.”
It was true—especially so in our circumstance. Life back home was beautiful but unpredictable—fulfilling yet unsettled. We never knew what threats or joys might meet us each day, but we greeted every morning with hopeful hearts. We were lucky to be a part of such a progressive clan—to live on an island blessed by the gods and gifted with magic. But with those blessings came the responsibility of protecting our lifestyle . . . a challenge that would be put to the test tonight. If we failed to stop Sverrir, then we failed to save Valkyris. And if we failed to save our home . . . there was no telling what kind of world would be born from Sverrir’s darkness.
When we reached the Hotel Del Coronado, I did a quick assessment of the massive structure. With its white walls, red roof, and whimsical design, the hotel was nothing short of spectacular. It was overwhelming from a strategic standpoint. The hotel had countless rooms, hallways, and outdoor nooks in which a dark mage could hide. But its beauty was undeniable. For the briefest of moments, I let myself appreciate the thoroughly modern monument.
Then I got straight to work.
Torstein dropped us at the front while he went around to park the car. I shouldered my bag, did my best to conceal my sheathed sword, and slipped my hand into Axel’s.
“Well.” I took a breath. “Here we are.”
“Here we are,” he said calmly. Then he nudged me with his shoulder. “It’s all going to work out.”
I appreciated him saying that. But despite our efforts, Sverrir had outwitted us so many times before . . .
“It is,” Axel urged. “You’ve got to trust me on this, Shieldmaiden.”
I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Even with everything you’ve seen, you always manage to look on the bright side.”
“Seems more enjoyable than the alternative.” Axel winked.
My heart swelled. This man . . . this life . . . they were everything I’d never known I needed. And I had one more shot to hold onto them.
I squared my shoulders, turned to the hotel entrance, and squeezed Axel’s hand. “Let’s do this.”
Despite the looming threat—or maybe because of it—I took my time getting ready for the formal. Janna, Brigga and I had borrowed dresses from Kenzi and Kayla. We joined the sisters in their suite, where they were primping with Meri. Tall stools stood by the window, while two women I didn’t recognize twisted hair into intricate styles.
“Do you girls want your hair and makeup done?” Kayla asked as she ushered us through the door. “Tara’s just finishing up on Meri, and Sarri should be done with Kenzi in a few.”
Kenzi batted her long lashes. “I went for a major cat-eye.”
“And I’m going full princess.” Meri patted her elaborate updo. “It’s one of my last formals, so I might as well go all out.”
“Don’t touch your hair!” the woman with the comb tutted.
Meri shot us a sheepish grin.
“I want my hair done just like Meri’s,” Brigga bubbled. “Only different.”
Meri’s hair helper nodded.
“I’ll put your dresses in the closet.” Kayla took the long bags from our arms and hung them up. Then she gestured to a snack-covered table. “Help yourself to anything that looks good. We take our party prep very seriously.”
“I can see that,” Janna said. “Is it always like this before your events?”
“Only the big ones,” Meri said. “Formals, initiation, the usual.”
Kayla bounded across the room. “What about you? Do the girls in the Oslo chapter go all out for dances?”
“All out,” I lied. “We really get into, uh, preparations.”
“Okay, Meri, you’re done,” Meri’s stylist said from the window. “Go see what you think.”
Meri stood and walked to the bathroom. A moment later, she emerged with a huge grin on her face. “I love it! Thank you, Tara.”
“Of course.” Tara turned to Brigga. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Brigga skipped to the stool. “Now, I want Meri’s updo—but only half up,” she clarified. “With curls tumbling down my back, and a few wisps framing my face to draw out my cheekbones.”
Janna arched one brow. “That is extremely specific.”
Brigga shrugged. “I know what looks good on me.”
Of course she did.
“Your turn, Ingrid.” Kenzi stood. Her glossy, black hair was tucked up in a loose knot, and her already gorgeous eyes popped against the thick black lines drawn around her lashes.
“You look beautiful,” I said as I took her place on the stool. “As you always do.”
“I’m not usually big on makeup—you’ve seen me at yoga.” She laughed. “But this is pretty fun.”
Sarri ran her fingers through my mane. “These thick curls are amazing. You really have the whole Viking warrior vibe going for you.”
She had no idea.
“Do you have something specific in mind?” Sarri asked.
“No. You can do whatever you want.”
Sarri’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really.”
“What color is your dress?” she asked.
“Green.”
“Pale emerald,” Kayla corrected.
Sarri nodded. “I have the perfect idea.”
For the next half hour, she braided, pinned and tucked while I tried not to think about alignments, and dark mages, and the possible end of our world. She moved on to my makeup next, finally clapping her hands together and announcing, “Perfection!”
“Oh, Ingrid,” Kayla trilled from across the room. “You look beautiful.”
“You really do,” Kenzi added. “Go. Check it out.”
I walked to the bathroom and peered into the mirror. My breath caught as I took in the intricate crown of braids arching across my head, the mass of glossy curls cascading down my back, and the gold liner rimming my eyes. The green shadow that dusted my lids was a near perfect match to my dress. If I had to go into an end-of-world battle, this was definitely the way to look.
“You made me a warrior princess.” I grinned as I returned to the suite. “I love it.”
“I knew you would.” Sarri waved at Janna. “Okay, last one. Come, come.”
Janna took her seat while the rest of us slipped into our dresses. When we were ready, Kayla filled glass flutes with pink, bubbly liquid. “This calls for a toast. To a memorable evening.”
Kenzi raised her glass. “To sisterhood. To the sisters we chose, and the ones that we didn’t—but still love anyway.”
Kayla stuck out her tongue. “Ha, ha.”
Janna raised her flute. “To kindness. You all took us in and made us your family. We’re lucky to know you.”
“We’re the lucky ones,” Kayla said. “You’ve brought a lot of fun to Kappa Mu. I’m so glad you came into our lives!”
My heart tugged as I raised my own glass. “To new possibilities. We had no idea what we’d find when we walked into your sorority—and we have no idea what life will hold once we leave. But I wouldn’t trade the adventures we’ve shared for anything.”
I meant every word. I’d seen things over the past two months that would have been beyond comprehension back in Valkyris. But I was grateful for the moments I’d spent in study hours, exchanges, and at Monday night dinners. I’d experienced college life, learned the mysterious traffic cycles of the Los Angeles freeways, and discovered the joys—and pains—of yoga. And although I’d been fighting an unimaginable force of evil, my time with Kappa Mu had given me a lot of happiness.
I clinked my glass to my friends’, and locked the moment into my memory. Then I put down my drink, followed Janna and Brigga back to our room, and got ready for the battle of my life.
“Whoa. Ingrid. You look . . .” Axel let out a low whistle. My cheeks warmed at the heat radia
ting from his hungry stare. His eyes smoldered, and his hands tensed, and he looked for all the world like the assassin that he was.
I was only too happy to be locked in his sights.
“You like the dress?” I spun a tight circle in the hallway outside the ballroom. We’d decided to meet downstairs to stash our weapons somewhere close to the event room. Easy access would be key in staving off a potential attack. But before we saved the world, my boyfriend needed to appreciate what I could look like when I wasn’t in my work clothes.
Even if I never wore anything like this ever again.
“I like what’s in the dress.” His voice was gravelly. “Skit, Ingrid. You’re a warrior goddess.”
“I’m a warrior goddess every day. Nice of you to finally notice.”
“You know what I mean.” Axel’s eyes moved slowly from the braids that gave way to wild curls, to the low neckline of my gown. He lingered there for a few moments longer than necessary before sweeping his gaze along my dress.
I twirled again and the hem flared with the movement, its filmy fabric fanning out around my ankles. The garment was surprisingly easy to move in. Its full, floor-length skirt was made of a gauzy fabric Kayla had called tulle. Thanks to an intricate series of gathers, it flowed dreamily in cloud-like puffs, forming an “A” that would make it considerably easier to front-kick in, should the need arise. Its top was fitted, with a plunging neckline and wide shoulder straps that gave way to a high back—perfect for concealing a magical, highly sought-after dagger. A thin strip of fabric was belted around my waist, tied in a low bow at the back. The dress was dreamy, and regal, and full of whimsy—definitely different from anything I’d ever worn before.
“You look spectacularly beautiful,” Axel concluded. “I am one lucky man.”
“You are,” I agreed. Then I stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “But then, I’m pretty lucky, too.”
“Darn right you are.”
Raynor popped his head around the corner. “If you two are done admiring yourselves, I think I found a place to store our weapons.”