Valkyrie Rising

by Ingrid Paulson

  Tuck grabbed my arm, and I wondered distantly if I was fainting. The world went black as an image settled in my mind’s eye, painted by whatever force was raging through me. I saw a boat, a massive navy destroyer. It smelled like bravery, like victory, an aroma that was suddenly as irresistible to me as Tuck’s lingering scent of grass and sunshine. The boat was anchored in a harbor, and I strained to see more, to understand. It was all too familiar—the town built up around the narrow port.

  “Ellie?”

  I must have looked pretty strange, because Tuck was in a flat panic, squeezing my arm so hard, it might have hurt a normal girl. Slowly I snapped back to myself enough to say, “I’m okay. I think I know where Astrid will go next.”

  Tuck raised one eyebrow.

  “It’s hard to explain,” I whispered. “But when I’m near them, there’s this energy that flows between us, connecting us. And I have to fight it, because otherwise it might convince me to join them.” I laughed nervously but stopped when I saw how Tuck’s frown deepened. I wasn’t sure if he was afraid for me or of me.

  “That sounded worse than it is,” I fibbed. “The important thing is, I think I just picked up a signal or something that Astrid is sending to the others. Of where to go next.”

  Tuck’s eyebrows drew together. My explanation hadn’t reassured him at all.

  “Where?”

  “Bergen,” I replied. I’d recognized the wharf and the hills beyond, with the strange glass tram that tows tourists to the top to take in the view. “There’s a military destroyer anchored there. Full of exactly the type of soldiers we … I mean, Astrid … would want.”

  “Bergen,” Tuck repeated. “That’s where the airport is, right? That’s far. We can’t afford to make a mistake like that. How do you know that’s where they’ll go?”

  “They won’t be able to resist. I can feel it too. The water’s chummed; now we just wait for the sharks.”

  “Can you pick a different analogy?” he asked, shivering. “I mean, technically, I’m chum.”

  “Not old enough,” I said, surprised by how firmly I could feel the difference, even though Tuck was every bit as brave. These bursts of insight, this understanding of the rules of my new being, were embedded somewhere deep in my brain. Waiting for me to stumble across them, one by one. “Eighteen is the age of knowledge. The age a Valkyrie attains her true power. You’re not old enough to be useful yet.”

  Tuck stared at me for a long moment before cracking a playful grin. “Glad we settled that,” he said. “Because after being rescued and outsmarted by you all night, my self-esteem was getting tired. You know, hanging on for dear life.”

  “I didn’t say you’re not useful to me.”

  “Useful?” he repeated. His smile broadened when I started to stammer an explanation. Because useful didn’t even begin to describe how I felt about Tuck.

  “Relax, Ells. I’m kidding. Have you forgotten I hang out with Graham? Suppose it doesn’t matter which Overholt outshines me.”

  “Stop it,” I said, rolling my eyes because I knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d gotten a reaction. “We’ll go to Bergen, then. We find Astrid. Unless you have a better plan.”

  “Plan? That’s not a plan, that’s just looking for trouble,” he replied. When I just stared at him blankly, he added, “What exactly are we gonna do when and if we find her?”

  “I need to fight her.”

  “You can’t be serious.” His hand slid up my arm. “You’re not gonna fight that lunatic. We’ll find another way.” He touched the side of my forehead, where a few flakes of blood were clinging to my hair. The reminder was clear. Astrid had crushed me like a bug without even breaking a sweat. I’d have to be insane to take her on again. “I have news for you, Ms. Ellie,” he added. “You’ll have to get through me first.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him exactly how easy that would be. I knew, thanks to the voice in my head that seemed to be constantly tabulating people’s physical weaknesses and exactly how to exploit them. “Bullying me might work for Graham, but this isn’t up to you,” I told him. “We’re going after her.”

  “No.”

  Ordinarily, the raw anger on his face might have made me think twice, but there was no backing down now. So I matched his glare, flame for flame. It would take more than one stubborn boy to hold me back.

  We stood like that for what felt like a year, locked in a silent battle of wills that each of us was determined to win.

  Until finally I did.

  “Fine,” Tuck muttered. “We’ll go after her, but no fighting. And I mean it. At the first sign of trouble, I’ll drag you out of there. No matter how tough you think you are now, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  Of course he was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it.

  “We find Astrid and follow her,” he said. “And hope she leads us to Graham.”

  9

  Once we hit the freeway, it was almost a hundred miles to Bergen. Tuck drove, making impressive time along the winding, unfamiliar mountain roads.

  When we reached the outskirts of the city, it was past two in the morning. Downtown Bergen was built around a square harbor, flanked by old clapboard row houses that tipped slightly to the right, in unison, like a group of old, drunken men propping one another up for the long walk home. Although they were once family homes, they’d long since been converted into tourist shops and expensive restaurants. The sidewalks along the front, skirting the harbor, were lined with café tables and benches, giving it an open Parisian feel. The Bergen castle, a medieval fortress on the hill overlooking the town, was a dark shadow against the glow of the approaching sunrise on the horizon.

  Even though it was later than late, the bars along the harbor were in full swing when we turned onto the waterfront drive. Each café had an enclosure of tables in front, with people sitting outside, drinking and smoking. It was so alive and vibrant after the solitude of Skavøpoll that, for a moment, I let myself forget why we were really there. I was caught up in the excitement of being in a city again.

  Tuck drove slowly through the narrow cobblestone streets until he found a parking spot across from a church—just a few blocks from the center of the action. He’d always had ridiculous parking karma. That counted for a lot in LA.

  As I closed my eyes, silently praying I hadn’t led us dangerously astray, I suddenly knew Astrid was close. I could feel her signature vibration, along with the jittery anticipation I was beginning to recognize when danger drew near. Accompanied by the knowledge that I was ready and able to do something about it.

  We hadn’t made it more than a few blocks when Tuck grabbed my arm. “You remember our deal, right?” he asked. “We aren’t fighting Astrid, we’re following her. You’ve got your determined face on. And I know how you get.”

  “How do I get?” I demanded, sidestepping his question. Tuck was way too perceptive, given the direction my thoughts had been heading.

  “Determined,” he said. “Which is usually a little bit hot. But not tonight. Just—just cool those engines, okay? I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His fingers looped through mine.

  The way my stomach flopped right then should have been from Tuck. In any ordinary world, it would have been. But instead it was the jolt of Astrid’s presence slamming into my consciousness. An image flashed through my mind. A street sign. A name. It was a signal, coordinating whatever mission she was about to initiate. I squeezed Tuck’s hand and tugged him into a run. We were catapulted into a dizzying race through the tangled streets of the town. Even though I barely knew my way around Bergen, something was pulling me forward, around one corner, up through an alley, then down another side street.

  We ran until I knew Astrid was so close, I should be able to see her.

  A shrill screech pierced the night, followed by the rumble of the loudest engine I’d ever heard outside of an airplane. Something big was moving toward us—fast. A massive Range Rover rounded the corner an instant later, followed by the shri
ek of rubber tires skidding across slick pavement.

  It roared down the street, brushing a row of parked cars and setting off a symphony of car alarms. It didn’t even slow to acknowledge the damage it had done.

  I’d recognized the SUV in half a heartbeat. I knew I’d see it in my nightmares for years to come. Graham had disappeared into its backseat. Maybe it wasn’t too late to stop Astrid from taking him to Valhalla that night.

  Tuck grabbed my arm and pulled me down the street in pursuit. In my shock, I’d frozen and was standing stock-still on the sidewalk, staring after the disappearing taillights.

  “C’mon,” Tuck urged. “Some warrior you’re shaping up to be. Do I need to carry you?” He gave my arm one more tug—just enough to shift me into gear. I took off after him, running down the sidewalk and dodging the stragglers wandering home from the clubs. We rounded the corner as the Range Rover skidded to a stop in front of a crowded bar, leaving a trail of shredded rubber. It parked right under a sign that showed a car with a line through it. Woe to any tow truck that dared to enforce the law that night.

  The passenger door opened and a booted foot emerged, followed by a long, slender leg. My heart pounded in my ears as I watched Astrid descend, her eyes never leaving the door of the bar. She had the bored, apathetic look of a supermodel forced to endure yet another catwalk. This time, she’d traded in her Ugg catsuit for jeans and a tissue-thin tank top with a long, red scarf looped once around her neck. The ends floated through the air behind her like plumes of poisonous smoke.

  Only her boots hadn’t been exchanged for more modern counterparts—she wore the same uncured leather knee-highs trimmed with white fur and crisscrossed up the front with thick laces. The kind of boots you wore in case you needed to stomp on someone’s face, and from the way the night was going, that face would most likely be mine.

  She was followed by a Valkyrie I’d never seen before.

  Heads turned, one by one, until everyone at the outside tables was watching Astrid’s approach. I noticed more than one glassy, vacant stare that had nothing to do with a night of drinking.

  The thumping bass swelled as she opened the door and disappeared inside, leaving behind confused and groggy bystanders who were trying to puzzle out what had just happened.

  I looked back, expecting to see Tuck similarly stunned. Instead he watched me with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. As usual, all arrogance.

  “You’re okay,” I said. “At least we know that necklace works.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I was thinking about what happened in the bar when you called out my name. It’s a mental game, really. Astrid kinda tugs at my mind. Some weird impulse makes me want to look at her—it’s begging me to. But when I look at you, it goes away. You’re more important to me than she is.”

  I thought about that for a second. While it made sense, something didn’t quite fit. “I’m more important to Graham too, but I couldn’t wake him up, no matter how hard I tried.”

  Tuck’s eyes were wary, like he either didn’t know the answer or didn’t want to tell me. Then he shrugged, trying to make what he said next seem casual. “Because I think the power—the hypnotic power has its roots in desire,” he said softly.

  The words sank in with a weight my chest couldn’t support. “Oh,” I said, wondering how he could just stand there and turn my universe upside down so casually. Like it was no big deal.

  But then I thought about desire, about what that word really meant. Especially since he’d been known to spread his desire around a little too liberally. Ultimately, what he’d just said was no more significant than the rest of Tuck’s flirting. And it too wasn’t enough. With Tuck and me, it had to be all or nothing.

  Close on the heels of that realization was a stab of self-reproach. I couldn’t afford to waste precious seconds plumbing the depths, or maybe the kiddie pool, of Tuck’s feelings for me. Graham was in danger, and nothing else could matter.

  “Go get the car, and I’ll make sure they don’t get away,” I said. “They work fast, and we can’t lose them—not tonight.”

  “You think I’m gonna just leave you standing here on this corner? Alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “That was a rhetorical question,” he told me. “You go get the car, and I’ll stay here.”

  He was being ridiculous. The street was packed with people. As we stood there, frowning at each other, a group of older guys walked by, singing something in wobbly German. I didn’t need to recognize the song to know they were off-key.

  “Tuck,” I said. “I can take care of myself. Really. Besides, what if they try to leave and you get all weird and hypnotized or something? This is the only way. Go.”

  “You don’t move one millimeter,” he said. “Stay right here.” After one last scowl at me, intended to show disapproval but really just reminding me that pretty much nothing could mar those features, he sighed and started running down the street in the direction of the car. I watched his retreating back anxiously, particularly when three drunk-looking guys slowed, two of them eyeing me and whispering to each other.

  It was the last thing I needed.

  Luckily, instinct kicked in. “Don’t even think about it,” I said in Norwegian.

  The boys stared at me openmouthed, their eyes switching instantly to filmy white. “Go,” I added, shooing them with my hand. They instantly obeyed, walking away slowly with strange, dazed expressions on their faces.

  The edge of power had saturated my voice at my command. I’d barely had to think about it. For the first time, I felt in control of it. It didn’t hurt that once again I’d slipped so seamlessly into another language.

  I was intoxicated by the power I felt then. Maybe I really was invincible. What had happened earlier with Astrid had to be a fluke. I’d just needed to get my sea legs. Because the power coursing through my veins was undeniable, begging me to use more if it. To indulge. Promising that the more I tapped into my Valkyrie nature, the more I stretched myself, the stronger I’d grow. And it was so overwhelming, I was pretty sure it would explode out of me if I didn’t do something—anything but sitting at the curb waiting for Tuck like a cocker spaniel.

  I crossed the street, my new confidence howling through my veins. It was so all-consuming, so primal, that I never paused to question it. I just walked right up to the Range Rover and pressed my face against the window, not caring if the whole Valkyrie army was inside waiting for me. But the Range Rover was empty. Graham was nowhere to be seen. They must have put him somewhere else while they returned for a second helping of boys.

  I tried to slip past the outdoor tables unnoticed, but conversations faded into whispers as I passed by. It was a strange feeling to be watched so intently—I couldn’t bring myself to meet anyone’s eyes, preferring not to know if they were milky white. It wasn’t like I’d meant to do anything wrong.

  Inside the bar, the music was so loud it threw me off balance, as did the darkness after the well-lit streets. A few faces turned toward me as I lingered in the open doorway of the bar, but other than that, no one inside took particular notice of me. The room was narrow and divided in half by the long, skinny bar along one wall. It was full to capacity, with everyone pressed shoulder to shoulder, except for a small clearing where three girls slithered to the music.

  I pushed through to the counter and slid into a narrow space between the back of a tall brown-haired man and the wall. From there, I could surreptitiously scan the room for Astrid. There was no sign of her. I leaned on my elbow, trying to look casual while watching and waiting.

  A champagne flute appeared at my elbow.

  “It’s on the house,” a low voice quipped. I looked up, startled, into Loki’s liquid green eyes. Even though the face was unfamiliar, I knew it was him behind the bar, dressed in a black, well-tailored shirt and slacks. “Did you miss me?” As I stared, his burly bartender’s mug melted into a face that was reminiscent of Tuck’s, even though the features never quite settled into place. I reminded
myself that he was a shape-shifter and was using that ability to reel me in like a bigmouth bass. That made it easier to look at him without getting tangled up in his impersonation of my favorite smile.

  “Go ahead,” he said, nudging the flute closer across the bar. “It will help you relax. I’ve never met such an uptight Valkyrie.”

  “Relax?” I had to shout to be heard over the music. “You can’t threaten to kill my brother and act like we’re friends meeting for a drink. We’re not. If we were, you’d tell me how to find Odin and get to Valhalla.”

  The brown-haired man in front of me turned and stared, both eyebrows raised so high they disappeared underneath his bangs.

  Loki chuckled and put one finger under my chin. “That wasn’t your line, pet. I was hoping we’d end this one scene, at least, on a happy note.” His soft voice carried perfectly, even in that noisy place. “I wish you’d try to be appreciative. After all, we’re going to be such great friends. Now take a sip and thank me. Bonus points if you lean forward and look adoringly into my eyes.”

  “This isn’t a game or a movie. It’s my life, and it’s real to me,” I said. “I’m searching for Graham. I’m not here to entertain you.”

  “Yet you’re managing both so competently,” he said. “Quite a fortuitous side effect—winning so much of my attention. But I shouldn’t keep you, dearest. You’re about to have your hands full. I can’t wait to see how you’ll handle what’s next.”

  Something over my shoulder caught his attention as he took two steps away, shifting back into the bartender’s sour face. He took a drink order from a woman down the bar who didn’t seem to notice that his nose was still adjusting itself as he poured her a beer.

  I had nothing to lose, so I lifted the glass to my lips and drained it in one long swallow. As the liquid hit my throat, it left a trail of burning fire that ripped through my veins. I thought my heart would explode from the heat. It was filling me with strength. It took my new, heightened senses and catapulted them into the stratosphere. I could hear the quietest whisper, train my ears on each individual conversation in the room or listen to them all at once. I could see every particle of dust floating through the air and taste the cologne of the Eurotrash man across the bar.