Leif strode toward me, and a relieved smile split my face. But there was that unease in my stomach, that fear that we hadn’t won yet. And then, just as the sun rose on the horizon, I heard the ominous flapping of great wings.
I froze even as my gaze darted to Leif.
27
“Leif!” I shouted. The great black birds were threatening. I could feel it in the heaviness in the air, the thrum of it like the tingle just before lightning strikes.
There were six of them, inky black against the pale dawn sky. Their wings were spread impossibly wide, creating great buffets of wind. I had seen these birds before.
The Valkyrie.
As they descended, their wings created such a powerful wind that everyone in the radius around Leif was knocked flat. Torn from Sleipnir’s back, I fell through the air. One of my undead clansmen caught me, preventing me from breaking my body against the hard earth. His cold arms released me almost immediately, and when I looked into his face, I saw it was Fergus. Sleipnir landed beside us with an impact that would have broken the bones of a mortal beast.
Beyond us, the birds transformed.
I squinted through dust and the cacophony around me to see they had become six bronzed women, wearing the same shining golden metal armor Leif had described. Their black wings spread wide, each wing touching the tip of the next Valkyrie’s wing. And Leif was trapped in the middle of their terrible ring, effectively separated from his allies. And though they were the ones who had bestowed his power upon him, and both of us knew what would be his fate, I still drew my sword.
“Leif Olafsson,” they said, all speaking at once, “you have fulfilled your quest.”
He bowed his head once, but I saw that his hand never relaxed on his sword.
“Fenris led the revolt against the gods,” they continued, “and we granted you the power to stop him. In doing so, we made you the most powerful warrior on earth. Odin allowed this under one condition: you could only remain this way to complete your quest.” They moved to form a wide circle around Leif. “It is your abilities that will make the einherjar unstoppable.” In one fluid motion, six swords were drawn. “You have done well, Northman, but now it’s time to come with us to Valhalla.”
No. A violent, uncontrollable anger seethed within me, and I drew my sword and summoned the rest of my undead clansmen to me. My body might have weakened, but I would wield my army against these pagan goddesses; I would have them tear the wings from their backs and rend their flesh to pieces.
Rúna was shouting something, but I was deaf to everything but my need to help Leif.
Protect Leif; defend him against the Valkyries, I thought to my clansmen, and they surged forward.
The Valkyries attacked Leif then. He blocked with his shield and parried with his sword, but they hemmed him in. Panic rose within me, choking in its intensity. He would hold his own, but not forever. Not even Leif could fight endlessly against six goddesses with swords.
My undead clansmen reached the Valkyries as I struggled to pull myself astride Sleipnir. I’d succeeded in controlling the jötnar’s minds, but these were war goddesses. My whole body shook violently, my heart shuddering in my chest. Even so, I had to try.
Two of the Valkyries turned to face us. Swords clashed violently as my undead clansmen attacked, easily running through their defenses.
With my hands thrust in Sleipnir’s mane, I wrapped the strong hairs around my palms and gripped them tightly. I hoped it would keep me mounted.
I closed my eyes and sought the power that would allow me to battle the Valkyries on more equal footing—I hoped. But it wasn’t as easy as it had been before; the power seemed to dance away from my grasp, until with a scream of frustration I finally accessed it. There was a tearing sound so terrible I wondered if I’d finally freed my spirit one too many times, but when I glanced once at my body, I knew I was still alive. My spirit surged toward the closest Valkyrie, and my desperation was a living, breathing thing.
I plunged into impenetrable darkness. The strength of her mind was the same as the stag’s had been in the Faerie Tunnel. It was like being lost at sea on a cloudy night: nothing but black nothingness no matter where I searched. Again and again, I threw myself against it. When that failed, I moved on to the next Valkyrie. And the next. All had minds of steel.
Their taunting laughter filled my mind. You are not strong enough, little Celt. Leif will die, and you will be next.
Three Valkyries surrounded Leif, but all were engaged with my undead warriors. These were Norse goddesses with abilities far beyond my own. I streamed back to my body, but the moment I became conscious, my heart shuddered. I pressed my fist against my aching chest, and after a breath, it resumed beating reluctantly. I didn’t need to be a healer to know I didn’t have much time—my body had reached its limit. But I had the blood of ancients, the blood of the druids and the blood of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and I knew what I must do.
For only death itself would stop me from saving Leif.
I sank deeply into my mind and found the door of light—it was my connection to the realm of the Tuatha—and fell through it. I called for the Morrigan, imagining her as I’d seen her last: with a headdress of crows’ feathers. Black fog poured in, ominous as storm clouds. And she appeared before me. For the first time, I gazed upon the Morrigan in mortal form. Her skin was as pale as marble, her hair as dark as pitch. But her eyes were still a terrible blood red. She was dressed for battle. Her armor was as black as night, a mantle of greasy black feathers upon her shoulders. I knew she couldn’t appear in Leif’s land to fight for me, but there was one way she could help me.
I need the power to stop them. Will you lend it? I asked.
The Morrigan’s answering grin was more frightening than her glower. I thought you’d never ask.
The black fog that seemed to travel with her swirled around me, and then I felt it: a swelling of power, a renewal of energy, the healing of my broken body.
I thanked the Morrigan and returned through the glowing door to my body in a rush, my heart beating strong now, my strength returned tenfold.
I had an army of undead at my command, powerful goddess-given seidr, and a flesh-eating charger. I could stop them—I had to.
I called upon five of my clansmen, summoning them to me instantly. Together, we streamed toward one of the Valkyries. They engaged her in combat, separating her from her sisters while the other Valkyries battled Leif and the remainder of my clansmen.
Their black swords clashed with her golden one, and she kept them at bay, fighting them all at once, as easily as a seasoned fighter could battle a child. Still, it was enough to distract her. I forced myself free of my body and targeted the glowing golden spot in her chest that was her heart. I plunged my hand in, my triumph reverberating through my body as I grasped her life force.
Now! I told one of my clansmen, and he thrust his sword into her immobile heart.
Her face was frozen in shock as she crashed to the ground.
I had felled one, but there were five more. As I turned my attention to the next, a horrible sight greeted me.
The Valkyrie who stood over Leif raised her sword.
No! I shouted inwardly, snatching out with my mind to take control of her—to stop her before she could do the unthinkable. I was plunged into impenetrable darkness once again, but I felt her hesitate.
You cannot hold me long, she taunted. He has always been destined to add to the ranks of einherjar, and we have made sure from the very beginning that he would be the best warrior the world—and Valhalla—has ever seen.
Suddenly I remembered what Arinbjorn had said all that time ago in the stables. When he said their sister was killed on purpose so Leif would find her. I remembered learning from the Northmen that the jötnar weren’t that different from the gods, and that some were even intermarried or related by blood.
You arranged for Finna to be slaughtered, I thought to the Valkyrie, horror washing over me.
The Valkyrie lau
ghed, the sound eerie and humorless. We did. Leif Olafsson was already the best raider the north had seen—he would have sailed the world, bringing knowledge of our gods to many people—but we needed his power as an einherjar. His power would be better used in Valhalla to fight for the gods, and what better way than to have him train here in Midgard?
You manipulated him. You murdered his sister! And now you’ll take his life?
She answered by shoving me mentally so hard, my physical body crashed to the ground. An agonizing pain assaulted my head, so terrible in its intensity that I could only cradle my head and scream silently as I lost control of her mind, of everything, as I was myself lost to the agony.
Two of her sisters escaped my undead clansmen. They grasped hold of Leif. The Valkyrie who held Leif immobilized raised her sword.
I pushed away my pain to find Leif. Time seemed to slow as our gazes caught and held. “I love you,” Leif mouthed.
A sense of urgency exploded within my chest, and I streamed toward him. But the distance was far, too far.
The sword flashed and fell.
I watched as Leif jerked once and then was still.
Something inside me shattered. A scream tore from deep within me, so intense and powerful it was like a wave of destruction. Everyone froze.
Before I knew it, I had wrenched my soul from my body and appeared next to the Valkyrie who had killed Leif. Black anger and a terrible, soul-destroying grief rent through me, and I exploded through the Valkyrie’s mental defenses, ignoring her as she fought me like a wild animal. Her arm shook as it rose against her will, and she screamed in anguish as I forced her to plunge her sword into her own chest.
I returned to myself before I could become trapped in her death spiral.
Four remained.
I stalked toward one, darkness rolling off me like a black fog. My spirit burst free of my body and slammed into her mind, and I forced her to kill herself amid her mentally screamed threats of death and damnation.
I killed them all, one by one, tearing their golden hearts free of their bodies.
Breathing hard, I returned to my body once more, and fell to my knees by Leif’s side. Far above me, the sky darkened with storm clouds as though my emotions were being mirrored by the elements.
I had torn the Valkyries’ hearts free, but it was mine that was dying.
I leaned forward until my head rested upon his still-warm body and I wrapped my arms around him. Losing Sleipnir and my father could in no way compare to this pain . . . this emptiness inside me.
“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered. “I was a fool to think I could live without you, and I will do anything if you’ll only come back to me.”
Lightning flashed, its sudden luminance only emphasizing how dark it had become. A boom of thunder followed.
A figure appeared before us. He wore a gray, hooded cloak and gripped a gnarled staff. Bushy eyebrows hid only one startling ice-blue eye. The other was missing, as though plucked from its socket. Only skin remained. His long white beard was streaked with gray, but instead of looking old and helpless, he only appeared more powerful. A raven sat on each shoulder, watching us with eyes that seemed to contain the entire world.
“Odin,” I said, recognizing the father of all the Norse gods from my time spent with the Northmen. I tightened my grip on my sword.
He said nothing, only took in the scene with his eye. After a moment, he walked over to the closest dead Valkyrie and touched her shoulder with his staff. She shook her head and came unsteadily to her feet. It took everything within me not to kill her all over again. Her eyes flashed as if she wanted to do the same to me, but Odin merely caught her eye and shook his head.
He walked around to each fallen Valkyrie and brought each to life just as he had the first. I silently seethed. Soon all six stood next to him, resurrected as though nothing had happened, while Leif lay unmoving on the ground.
“Father,” one of the Valkyries began, but he held up his hand.
“Muninn,” Odin said to the raven on his right shoulder, “show us your memory of what happened here.”
The bird let out a croak and took off with a flurry of wings. He flew over us in a great circle, and once he had done so, the air shimmered. In the sky above us, the events that had transpired replayed. We saw our battle with the jötnar, the defeat of Fenris, and the coming of the Valkyries. Odin watched without expression as the Valkyries turned on Leif and battled against my fallen clansmen. I was held in the grip of agony as I watched Leif die for the second time. After all six Valkyries had fallen, the images blurred before finally dissipating into the stormy sky like smoke.
“So it was for vengeance that my Valkyries were killed,” Odin said, his voice deep and thoughtful. “But it was revenge for the death of one of my people, not a Celt.”
“He means more to me than even my own people,” I said to Odin. “I would kill your Valkyries a hundred times if it meant I could bring him back.” Apathy freed my tongue. What had I to fear of Norse gods? I had lost Leif.
“How were you able to do this?” he asked me. He paused as the raven on his left shoulder whispered in his ear. His eyes shifted to mine. “You have the blood of a Celtic goddess. The immortal daughter of the Phantom Queen.”
“Father,” one of the Valkyries said again, “we were only doing as you asked of us.”
Odin nodded thoughtfully. “It is true. I asked you to bring the warrior back to Valhalla after he completed his quest. But I didn’t ask you to threaten the Celtic queen; doing so violated the alliance you had made.”
The Valkyrie seethed visibly. “Her intentions were to stop us.”
“It seems justice was had here—you took the life of her ally, and the Celtic queen exacted revenge. A truce will be called.”
I stood next to Leif’s body with my hand on the hilt of my sword. “You speak of justice. The man I love is dead, while the beings responsible still live. Worse, it was they who manipulated him into trading his life in the first place. They drew the jötnar to the village where his sister was; they made sure Leif would find her slaughtered.”
Again, the raven on Odin’s left shoulder whispered into his ear. Odin turned to me. “It’s true. We wanted Leif Olafsson’s soul early—it won’t be long before the jötnar launch an assault on the realm of the gods. We rule over the mortals of Midgard; it is our right to manipulate mortals as we see fit. But I am not without compassion, and I like a wager. Leif Olafsson’s soul is already in Valhalla. Do you think he will choose you over its golden halls?”
“I don’t know what he will choose.” My eyes narrowed at the six Valkyries. “I only want him to be given the chance.”
Odin smiled. “I like you, Ciara of the Phantom Queen. You are a true warrior, one who isn’t afraid to fight for what she wants.” He fell silent for a moment as though lost in thought—or listening to one of his ravens. “I will take you to Valhalla. If you can persuade your Leif to return to Midgard with you, then I will send his soul back into his body.”
The relief and swelling hope hit me so hard my knees nearly crumpled beneath my weight.
“Thank you, Odin, I—”
“If you fail,” he interrupted, “you will neither return to Midgard nor stay in Valhalla. I will send you to Freyja’s death fields, and you will be forever separated from the one you love.”
I understood the risks: my very soul was in danger, and I could be beyond saving. But I also knew Leif would accept such a price without a moment’s hesitation, if it were my life on the line.
“I won’t fail,” I said.
Odin stepped forward and put his hands on the upper part of my arms. He smelled like smoke and earth. “Let’s go, then,” he said.
At once, the Valkyries exploded into their raven forms and took to the skies, feathers falling in their wake. Odin’s two ravens joined them, and then we were spinning wildly, as though caught in the midst of a storm. I could see nothing; I could hear nothing but the scream of wind in my ears. Faste
r and faster we ascended, spinning all the while, until I felt like a leaf caught in a hurricane.
Just when I was sure I would die from the onslaught, it stopped.
28
Odin released me, and I fell to the ground. Every bone and muscle in my body shrieked in pain, but not because of the fall. The world had changed; I felt as weak as a kitten once again, and the pressure on my body was so intense I couldn’t even cry out, only grit my teeth together. Everything around me blurred and shifted, as though I was peering through smoke, and I lay in the fetal position, unable to move myself forward. There was no way to take note of my surroundings, no way to do anything but cling to the ground beneath me.
“You should be proud of yourself for still being alive,” Odin said from somewhere above me. “If it weren’t for the part of you that is immortal, this realm would tear you apart.”
At his words, the pressure built to a tugging sensation that intensified until a sweat broke out all over my body.
“It’s your mortality that’s holding you back now,” he said, and I could sense him walking in a slow circle around my fetal form. “You really should hurry. Your body won’t be able to tolerate much more of this.”
His words triggered me to release my mortal self, and I threw open the door within my mind, bathing myself in its golden light. My spirit separated from my body, and I stepped free. The pain vanished as quickly as dousing a candle’s flame with water. But as I gazed down at my body, still wretched and prostrate on the ground, I knew Odin spoke the truth: I didn’t have much time.
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