by Leia Stone
“Leave my god-sister alone.” Mack muscled his way past Bodie. He nudged Tore out of the way so he could wrap thick arms around me in a gentle hug. “I’m so thankful you’re okay, Allie. After what I saw in that snow cave . . . well, I owe the cosmos a tremendous debt for bringing you back to us.”
“Aw. I missed you, too, Mack.” I hugged the lumberjack back. “Thank you—thank all of you. I’d be dead, or worse, if it wasn’t for you. You guys majorly saved my butt.”
Tore stepped closer, edging Mack out of the way so he could wrap his arm around me again. “I’ve said it before, Pepper. It would be a travesty if anything happened to your butt.”
I laughed. “I seem to remember you communicating something to that effect.”
Tore winked. “Well, if your memory needs refreshing, I’d be happy to drive the point home when we’re alone.”
My cheeks felt like I’d set them on a hot plate. Bodie just cackled at my mortification.
“Careful, Bodie,” I warned. I tilted my head at the strawberry-haired healer. “Payback sucks.”
Bodie got real quiet, real fast.
An oblivious Greta rubbed her hands together. “I know we’re all happy to see Allie up and about, but we have a teeny situation we need to address.”
The four protectors in the room straightened to military attention. “What’s going on?” Tore asked.
“Allie’s mom was just checked into the healing unit. The energy in her third center took another dip, and we decided it would be in her best interest to receive a more static level of care than what I could provide at her cottage. She’s right down the hall, and she’s stable, but . . .” Greta chewed her bottom lip. “It’s not ideal.”
My throat constricted, and tears pricked at the back of my eyelids. I’d just gotten my mom back. I wasn’t anywhere near ready to lose her again.
“Allie has the Liv,” Tore blurted out.
Greta gasped. “What? That’s not possible. Eir has the Liv, and only one living goddess can possess the power to give life.”
“Maybe Allie’s mom transferred the power in her sleep.” Tore squeezed my arm. “Allie used it in Jotunheim to save Mack.”
“It’s true.” Mack nodded. “Dark magic would have overtaken me if Allie hadn’t been there.”
“Allie has the Liv,” Tore repeated. He released his hold on me and crossed to the nightstand where my armor lay. He held it up so I could slide my arm inside, and began strapping it onto my body. “Take her to her mother, and let her try to heal her.”
Greta shook her head. “It’s too soon,” she said. “Allie, I know you feel better, but you’re weak. Your spirit will take a few days to recover from a trauma of this magnitude. If you try to give too much of yourself before you’re fully restored, you might compromise your own healing.”
Tore adjusted the final strap, and patted my shoulder. I sent him a wave of silent thanks.
“So what?” I pushed past the boys and stormed into the hallway. “You’re talking about my mom. I don’t care how recovered I am; I have to try to help her. Now, which room is hers?”
My protectors spilled into the hall after me. I marched forward, reaching out with my energy to sense the golden-haired goddess I’d only just reconnected with. A dim energy pulsed from the last doorway, and I knew instinctively my mom was in that room.
“Never mind,” I called. “I figured it out.”
“Allie, wait.” Delicate footsteps tapped across the tile floor as Greta hurried to my side. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it as she studied my clenched fists and set jaw. “Never mind,” she said. “You can try. But you have to let me help you.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I’d only done this once before, and I had no idea how I’d done it then. I needed all the help I could get.
“Do you want us to come with you, or should we wait out here?” Johann shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The guy could cut down a night elf with one hand, but a healing made him nervous? Men.
“I think it would be better for Allie’s concentration if you waited in the hall,” Greta offered kindly.
Johann let out a fast breath. “Good luck,” he said in earnest.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Tore moved so he stood sentinel at my mom’s door. He jerked his head, and Bodie fell into place beside him. They crossed their arms, and it was impossible not to appreciate the way their biceps strained against the fabric of their t-shirts. Their general hotness stood in stark contrast to my hospital gown and fuzzy slippers. Oh, well. Priorities, Allie.
“We’ll be here if you need us,” Tore assured me.
“I know you will,” I said. And somehow, I understood that they always would be. My four protectors were tied to me in a way I’d never be able to explain. And I was unbelievably grateful for that.
“Are you ready, Allie?” Greta asked.
I wasn’t. Not in the slightest. I had no idea how to channel the Liv, or if it would even help stabilize whatever energy drain was killing the only blood relative I had left. But I knew I wanted to help my mom. To help Midgard. To be the hero everyone desperately needed me to be. For better or worse, when the Alfödr gifted me my armor, he’d chosen me to be the protector of both my family and my home realm. And I wasn’t about to let him down.
With a nod, I stepped determinedly past Greta. I entered my mother’s healing room, held up my palm, and let the energy surge through my armor.
And I prayed for a miracle.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MY MOTHER LAY LIMP on her bed, her chest straining with the effort of each breath. Her skin was ghostly white, and a light sweat covered her face. But what frightened me more than her clearly worsened appearance was the presence of two enormous, swirling energy cords. They tethered themselves to her fourth and sixth centers, spiraling above her heart and eyes like elongated, black tornados. As they spun, they pulled upward, seeming to draw on her life force with each cycle. The cords had doubled in size since last time I’d seen my mom. And that was what scared the daylights out of me.
With a determined growl, I unsheathed my sword. Energy leaped from my necklace to my armor and through my hand, illuminating my sword in a brilliant blue. Valhalla’s residents were more than ready to right this wrong with me. The strength of their souls churned within my blade. We got this, warriors.
I angled my weapon at the cords, but Greta raised a hand to stop me.
“Put that away.” Greta shook her head. “You’re not going to need it.”
“But I thought—”
“Trust me.” Greta watched as I sheathed my sword. I stood, uncertain of what to do next. “You need to shield yourself,” Greta reminded me. She moved her hands around her body, and for the first time I noticed that my friend had her own energy contained within a thick dome.
“How’d you do that?” I asked.
“I’ll show you later.” Greta was on the move. She pulled a crystal wand from her healing kit and held it over my head. “Take a deep breath, and call all your energy back to you.”
I did as instructed while Greta waved the wand in circles around me. Although she didn’t touch me, my skin began to tingle. I sensed my protection solidifying at the edge of my energy. When the tingling feeling settled into a dull buzz, Greta stepped back and nodded.
“You’re ready.” She smiled sweetly. “You can do this, Allie.”
“Thank you,” I replied, my voice thick with gratitude. I wasn’t sure what I appreciated more—the additional layer of protection, or Greta’s faith in my abilities. I hoped I didn’t let her—or my mom—down.
“You got this, Pepper.” Tore spoke over his shoulder from his sentry point at the door. I gave a tight nod as Greta walked me to my mother’s bedside. The black funnels of dark energy seemed to sway, leaning toward us as we passed. Oh hell no. Been there, never doing that again. My hand twitched over my sword. Greta had said I wouldn’t need it, but I was totally ready to hack the cords to bits if t
hey tried to come for me.
Beside me, Greta eyed the blackness like a predator about to kill.
“Lesson number one,” she murmured. “Do not fear the darkness that surrounds your mother. Actually, do not fear anything. Fear is a natural condition, but it is the absence of presence. What you fear is most often a future event, or the repetition of a past experience. Neither the future nor the past is grounded in the present, and when you are out of present time, you are not connected to your essence—you’re not connected to your power. In those moments, your energy is unstable, and you’re susceptible to injury. So do not fear the darkness—as long as you are grounded in this moment, it cannot hurt you.”
“Okay.” The statement resonated, but given that I’d spent the last few days in a darkness coma, the execution looked pretty elusive.
Greta raised the twelve-inch crystal wand she’d used to dome me in one hand, and pulled its twin from her healing kit. She brandished both wands in front of her as if they were swords. The darkness shrank back, and I realized that her crystals were weapons in their own right—energetic weapons. Cool.
“Lesson number two,” Greta continued. “The darkness is alive. And so it can be killed.”
I liked that. That was the best news I had heard all week.
“Well, then. Let’s kill it.” I held my hands level at my shoulders, my palms facing out. Greta nodded.
“All right. Call up the Liv, and no matter what happens, don’t release it until I tell you. I’ll direct its movement; you just need to keep channeling it.” Greta tossed her long, strawberry braid behind her and squared her shoulders. It hit me that the gentle healer was, in her own way, a warrior.
And we were both charging straight into battle.
I drew a cleansing breath, trying to recall the frame of mind I’d been in when I healed Mack. Everything had happened so fast, I hadn’t had time to question what I did or how I did it—the Liv had come because I’d acted purely on instinct and free of fear. I’d been so desperate to save Mack, and so completely in the moment, there hadn’t been room for anything but focused determination in my consciousness. That’s it—presence, determination, instinct, and no fear. Bingo. I drew on those feelings now, keeping my focus on the power I knew lived within me. I didn’t allow myself to think about what the darkness could do to me; I focused only on what I could do to it.
And I waited.
After a small eternity, a pulse nudged at my navel. A second later, power burst from my belly, moved up to my necklace, and shot in radiant beams through my arm.
“Holy Hel.” Greta stared as a stream of blue fire blasted out of my palm, raining light down on the black tornadoes that hovered above my mother’s body. A low hiss moved through the room as the tornado lashed out at me. It slammed against my shield, sending me back a step. I dug my slippered feet into the tile and intensified the blue stream, dousing the darkness in my light. The tornado slammed into me again, this time with slightly less force. I’d weakened it. That knowledge gave me strength. Bring it on, twister.
As the tornado struck a third time, Greta launched herself into the Liv. She moved her crystal wands back and forth, like an artist sculpting clay. A form took shape around the dark funnels—Greta had molded Liv to the darkness, encasing it in a blue light. The tornadoes flailed wildly, but they couldn’t get near my dome. Greta had them locked in place.
My mother’s body jerked beneath the dueling forces, and I faltered. In our quest to help her, had we hurt her even more? “Mom?”
Greta’s scream brought me back. “Don’t stop!” Her voice sounded strangled, as if a hundred-pound weight rested atop her lungs. Instinctively I knew that if I stopped the Liv now, Greta would pay the price. Screw you, darkness. You’re not taking my friend. I dug down deep, reaching into my gut to draw up every bit of strength I had left. The Liv poured out of me, increasing its force in spite of my exhaustion. As it flowed, Greta moved around the bed, using her crystal wands like knitting needles to wrap my mother into a Liv cocoon. The darkness was now so well encased, it was barely visible. In one final move, Greta leaped onto the bed to stand over my mother’s body. She brought her wands down hard on the cocoon, one above each of the black cords. The tornadoes’ hisses increased in volume, until they became a single, ear-splitting shriek that shattered the window. Greta stabbed the cords one last time, smashing the darkness into dust-sized particles. She raised her wands above her head in an X, and a blast of energy forced the darkness from the room, out the broken window, and deep into the abyss of the cosmos. She was rosy cheeked and wild eyed when she turned to face me.
“You can stop now,” she panted.
I dropped my hands, trying to process what I’d just experienced.
The Liv dissipated, and I was once again able to see my mother’s still form. Her coloring was better now, and the only darkness surrounding her was the handful of blobs I knew tied her to the sleeping curse. I wished the Liv could destroy those, too, but I knew only Gud Morder could do that. And I still had six pieces of my weapon to find. At least I’d bought my mom some time.
Greta jumped off the bed and dropped to one knee in front of me.
“Oh no, are you hurt? Did the darkness injure your leg? I can try to heal it,” I offered.
But Greta bowed her head and placed her hand over her heart. “Goddess bless,” she said proudly.
Holy mother, is she bowing? To me?
“Goddess bless,” came a chorus of voices from behind me. I whirled around to see a handful of healers gathered in the doorway. They stood behind Tore with their hands over their chests, staring at me in awe.
Tore stepped into the room to place a hand on my shoulder. “You give them hope,” he murmured in my ear. “You’ve taken on your mother’s role.”
I was so honored, so overwhelmed, all I could do was nod.
****
After my mother’s healing, I grew extremely tired. Once Greta finally cleared me for travel, she joined the boys and me on the Bifrost home to Vancouver. I’d figured we’d get a few days down time, a chance to relax and rejuvenate in the Great White North, but apparently, I’d been dreaming. An hour after we got home, Tore was back to his normal self, issuing commands from the center of the cabin’s kitchen.
“Johann, Bodie, show Greta where the pieces of the weapon are, and help her prep them for fusion. Mack, keep watch over the woods, and make sure no more night elves show up.” Tore ran his hands over his long hair and shot me a rakish wink.
I understood his focus. It was good to be back on Midgard—I felt a definite sense of relief standing in a familiar, frost-giant-free place. But like Tore, I’d feel a lot better once we connected the two bits of Gud Morder in our possession. Tore said that once the entire weapon was fused, it would bond with my armor so that no matter where it was in any of the realms, the healed weapon would return to me when I summoned it. It would be my very own Asgardian, god-killing boomerang.
My life had gotten seriously weird.
“We’re on it.” Bodie headed upstairs, presumably to the safe where the boys stored magical weapon pieces.
“What do I do?” I asked Tore.
“You come with me. We have a few things to discuss.” Tore wrapped his hand around mine and tugged me toward the back door.
“Do I need to put on my armor, or will this be a recreational chat?” I wanted to make sure I was appropriately attired before leaving the house. Better safe than sorry.
“No armor necessary. But way to embody the Asgardian slogan. Be prepared.”
“I thought that was the scout’s slogan.” I stopped at the hook by the door, grabbed my parka, and zipped myself into it.
Tore opened the door and stepped onto the back porch. “You coming, Pepper?”
“Yup.” I jogged down the steps and followed him onto a snowy path. Tore laced his fingers through mine, and we walked into the woods in easy silence. We’d had another storm while we were gone, so the forest was dusted in a thick, plushy layer of w
hite. But no storm would ever compare to that one we’d endured in Jotunheim. My fingers ached just thinking about it. Brr. We walked further into the woods, passing tree branches that bowed under the weight of the freshly dumped snow. Occasionally, one of the trees dropped a snow-bomb on an unsuspecting pocket of forest—in one case, a highly-irritated squirrel got a frosty surprise, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Tore stopped when we reached the spot with the loopy trees. He pulled gently on my arm, turning me to face him.
“How are you doing with all of this?” he asked.
“Great. I mean, it’s been a weird couple of weeks, that’s for sure. But all things considered . . .” I shrugged. What could I say? Since I’d started college, I’d found out I was a demigod, I had the power to give life, and it was my job to hunt down an evil night goddess. After said hunt, I was tasked with destroying Nott’s minions, saving the planet, and awakening the mom I never knew I had from a cursed sleep. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Tore stared intently at my face. “Listen, Allie, once you heal your weapon and it binds to your armor, there’s no turning back. Gud Morder will respond only to you from that point forward, and as each successive piece is bound, your abilities will strengthen. You’ll be the only one of us who can kill Nott, and the only one who can end the Night War. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“Oh, I am totally not ready for that.” I shook my head. “In no way am I even the slightest bit ready for any of this. But somebody told me demigods do things just like humans—one step at a time. So I’m just going to . . . how did you put it? Oh. I’m going to goddess up and figure it out.”
Tore’s eyes shone. “That’s my girl.”
My heart thudded against my ribcage. I so loved when he called me that.
“Hey, can I ask you something personal?” I looked up at him.
“Shoot.”
“Your mom . . .” I hedged. “Do you think about her?”
Sadness wove a tapestry across Tore’s face. “Ja, I do. She was beautiful—not just in body, but in spirit. She had an innate goodness that permeated the realms and brightened the lives of everyone around her. When she died, it was like a light inside of me died with her. Things got pretty dark for a while.”