“Clever girl,” Odin said, his eye now on my ethereal spirit form.
“Where is Valhalla?”
Odin smiled as his gaze shifted to somewhere behind me. I turned, and a massive eagle let out its shriek into the sky. It flew above a colossal longhouse, the roof made of thousands of shields. There were more windows and doors than I could count, and the whole structure was made of bright, shining gold. Above us were two suns and a moon, and the sky was gray, as though a storm would soon be upon us.
“Mind the wolf Fenrir at the western door,” Odin said. “He will know you are no einherjar.”
Before I could ask him anything else, he disappeared, leaving me with nothing but an unsettling urgency. One of his ravens, though, kept track of me from the air. I sprinted forward, faster in this realm than I would have been on earth, and the raven followed, casting its shadow above me. It took me mere seconds to reach the doors—heavy with gold and with snakes for handles—but when I wrenched them open, all hope that this would be an easy task fell away.
The hall was bigger than any castle I had ever seen, bigger even than the city of Dubhlinn. The rafters were made of spears, and there were tables so long I couldn’t see the ends of them. They were filled with food and drink—fruit and cheese and meat, honeyed mead and cold ale. And there were more men and women than all the armies I had seen put together. They crammed the hall and filled the tables, their voices and laughter carrying to the spear-tipped rafters. Finding Leif among so many was going to be as hard as finding a single grain of sand in the sea.
I would have to do this as I did everything else: one step at a time. I walked and searched, for how long, I couldn’t say. All the while, my body called to me, and the tugging sensation became nearly unbearable. Still, I pressed on.
I quickened my pace but began to feel the tautness of the link to my body stretched nearly to capacity. I had searched only half the hall, and I knew I was rapidly running out of time.
But with my spirit form came quickness of thought. I was the Morrigan’s daughter; I had a communion with the dead. If I couldn’t continue my search, then maybe I could summon the dead to me. I thought of Leif; I thought of the way he smelled, the deepness of his voice, the iron-like strength of his muscles. But mostly, I thought of the way he made me feel: like I had finally found where I belonged.
Just then a bellow of pain rang out somewhere in the middle of the hall, the sound echoing off the walls. Voices near me fell silent as a tall, golden Northman came sprinting toward me. Leif had found me.
He stood before me, his chest heaving for breath though I was sure he no longer needed to draw it. His arms reached out and drew me to him. “Ciara, no. No, you cannot be dead. Please tell me this is only a hallucination brought on by Valhalla mead.”
He pulled me into his ethereal chest, solid to me in my own spirit form, but strangely absent of everything that made him his familiar self: no warmth, no smell, no . . . heartbeat.
“I’m not dead, and you’re not hallucinating,” I said in a rush to Leif, who had yet to realize the danger we were in.
“Then what are you doing here?”
Again, my body called to me, and I put a hand on Leif’s arm. “I’m here to bring you back . . . if you’ll go with me.”
For a moment, Leif was so quiet I was terrified he would say no, and then the grin that had once enraged me spread across his face. “How could you doubt me?”
Relief bloomed within me, and I returned his smile. “Because all you’ve talked about since the moment we met was Valhalla.”
He touched my face. “That was until I fell in love with you.”
I leaned into his touch, imagining how it would feel when we were back in our proper bodies. “We don’t have much time,” I murmured.
He tilted my chin up to look at him. “Before I leave the golden splendor of Valhalla, I need to know if you love me.”
“Yes.” The word came from deep within, and once I had spoken it aloud, I realized just how true it was. I felt a blush steal over me even as something within me clicked irrevocably into place. Leif had died, and with him, my inability to see him as he really was. He was kind and merciless, frustrating and encouraging, beautiful and dangerous. But most of all, he was not his father.
My gaze dropped to our feet. I felt shamed by how I’d responded toward him when I’d learned of what his father had done—not in love and understanding as he had, but in coldness and distrust.
And it only took his death to make me realize it.
I shook my head. “I’m so sorry, Leif—”
His finger traced down my cheek, his eyes intent on my lips. “Don’t apologize,” he said, “I understand. My reaction would have been worse had our circumstances been reversed. You can apologize and make it up to me all you want when we return to Midgard.” He took hold of my hand and gave a little tug. “What did you trade in order to bring me back?” he asked as we strode down the golden hallway.
“Odin seemed to think you would never want to leave Valhalla, so only your agreement was required,” I said, and related everything I had seen after Leif’s death.
His ghostly eyebrows shot up when I described the vengeance I took on the Valkyries on his behalf.
“I was a fool to think only my mortal life would be payment enough for the gifts the Valkyrie gave me. They had plans for my soul as well.” He glanced around him at the tables filled with other warriors. “There was a time when I would have gladly accepted such a fate, but”—he pinned me with his gaze—“everything has changed now.”
I squeezed his hand in response and prayed that Odin would hold to his part of the bargain.
Leif must have read my mind, for he said, “I doubt my agreement to leave is the only thing needed before we’ll be allowed to return to the mortal realm.”
As we pushed open the same massive doors I had opened before, a sinister growl greeted us.
I froze, cold fear eating its way through me. An angry mob behind us, and a wolf guarding the door. “Is this not the way I came in—the eastern door?” I said in a hushed whisper to Leif.
“It is.”
“Then tell me that wasn’t the growl of a wolf.”
The growl came again, louder and closer than before. Leif gave me a shove. “Go. I am einherjar now. It won’t attack me, and I can distract it.”
“And then what, Leif?” I demanded in a hiss.
“Just go,” he said, and gave me another stubborn push.
A snarl came from just behind us, and I ran. The scenery—a rocky cliff overlooking a fjord—rushed by. I heard Leif jump in front of the wolf, but it easily dodged him and came after me. I risked a glance back. Its enormous paws thudded as loudly as a horse’s hooves, and it was massive—bigger than a bear. Bigger than any animal I had ever seen on earth. Its yellow eyes were trained on me, hungry. Its teeth were like daggers in its mouth. It no longer growled, only raced after me silently with single-minded intent.
I wasn’t sure what would happen if it caught my spirit form, but neither did I want to find out. Even my unnatural speed was only fast enough to keep me just ahead of the wolf.
My body called to me from somewhere just ahead, and in a moment of horror, I realized I couldn’t lead this bloodthirsty wolf straight to my undefended body. I veered suddenly left, and jaws snapped just inches away. My mind raced and I desperately sought a solution.
“Leif!” I shouted, and then he was there, beside me as though he had always been.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
“I need you to grab hold of it,” I said, glancing back again to confirm that it was still right on our heels. “Do you think you can?”
“Not for long, but yes.”
“I won’t need long,” I said.
Leif slid to a stop and flew back at the wolf, grabbing it by its massive jaws. It flung its head from side to side viciously, but Leif held on. I scanned the wolf’s body for the telltale red glow—the heart that was its life source. His black f
ur gave way to swirling golden smoke, and within the smoke was a glowing red heart. I plunged my hand into its chest and tore it out.
The effect was instantaneous. Its eyes rolled back in its head as it slammed to the rocky ground. In my hand, the red heart pulsed. I had only to return to my body and squeeze, and the ruthless creature would be no more.
“Stop!” Odin’s voice rang out, thunderous and mighty. It echoed over the cliffs. He appeared before us, his eyebrows drawn low over his eyes threateningly. “You cannot defeat Fenrir here. He is meant to be defeated during Ragnarök. To kill him now will destroy time as we know it and render all prophecies useless.”
I held the life source aloft. “Grant us free passage back to the mortal realm, and I will return the wolf’s heart.”
Odin held out his hand and summoned my body. “Granted.”
With my body so close, the magnetic pull to return to it was nearly unbearable. I felt stretched as tight as a drawn bow, but I wasn’t eager to return to the agony my body suffered. “When I return to my body, then you will send us back.”
Odin met my steady gaze. “You have my word.”
I nodded as I moved closer to my body. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let my body pull my spirit back into it.
I gasped in shock. The agony crashed over me, contracting all the muscles in my body until only a wretched sob escaped. In my hand was still clutched the red heart. Odin reached down and took it from me after I found that I couldn’t even command my fingers to let go.
“Is this truly what you wish, Leif Olafsson?” Odin asked from somewhere above me.
“I cannot be without her, Father,” he said simply. I would have smiled if I could.
“Then go,” Odin said.
He held up his hand, and the world exploded in light.
I plummeted back down to earth, the wind screaming in my ears just as it had during my ascent. My stomach had slithered into my throat as the tunnel of wind I was encased in shot toward the ground. Blind and deaf to everything but the wind around me, I’d lost track of Leif.
Just before I would have smashed into earth and shattered all my bones, I slowed and landed gently on my feet. The wind dissipated at once, but this time, I wasn’t left disoriented. It took only a moment to register my surroundings: the slain giants littering the ground were indication enough. I had been returned to just outside of Skien.
My army waited in a silent formation nearby, while Sleipnir nickered a soft greeting. With a hurried touch of my hand to Sleipnir’s nose, I strode toward Leif’s body.
The sight of him lying so still upon the ground, the blood staining the grass beneath him, sent panic clawing to free itself within me, but I stamped it down. “Come on, Leif,” I said quietly, intently.
I was rewarded with his eyes rolling behind his eyelids, and the pulse at his neck throbbing. He drew a single gasping breath and then another, and then his eyes flew open. I could bear it no longer. I threw my arms around him as great, forceful sobs took over my body.
Leif’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you could cry like that.”
I laughed and cried harder. “I can summon the dead, but I’m not dead inside.” Softer I said, “I really thought I would lose you.”
“Never,” Leif said, his eyes bright with restored life. Slowly, he stood, and I kept my arm around him to steady him. He smiled down at me. “See? I am whole. Thanks to you.”
And then his arms were around me, and our bodies were pressed so tightly together it seemed what we desperately wanted was to be one. He kissed me, and I tasted salt from my tears.
Eventually we pulled away. We still stood upon a battlefield littered with fallen giants. Nearby, my undead army watched expressionlessly. Memory returned, and with it came a wave of horror as I remembered Leif’s aunt had fallen when the Valkyrie had descended. I jumped to my feet, my eyes scanning over the many bodies, but there was no sign of her.
The sound of horses approaching made me turn, and I saw Rúna upon a blood bay charger. I let my breath out in relief.
“Leif!” Rúna shouted as soon as she was close enough to be heard. The only sign she’d been injured was a smear of blood dripping from her scalp. She urged her horse on until she was level with us, and then she dismounted so fast she nearly crashed to the ground. Leif steadied her with a hand upon her shoulder.
Rúna threw her arm around Leif’s neck and pulled him close. “Thank the gods,” she said, her voice hoarse. “How did you survive?”
Leif lifted his head and looked at me. “Ciara stormed Valhalla.” A slow smile crossed his face. “She even swore she’d do anything if only I’d come back.”
I jerked in surprise. “How did you—”
Leif’s gaze met mine. “Did you mean it?”
“Of course—”
“Then let us make a pact here and now that we will forever be allies.”
I smiled. “Just allies?”
He laughed and pulled me into his arms. “You could never be just an ally to me. Someday soon, our alliance will become much more permanent.”
His words were characteristically arrogant, but I found I couldn’t argue with them. I tilted my head back, and he kissed me again.
“I love you, meyja,” he said.
He kissed me as only someone who has dodged the scythe of death can kiss. “I love you, Leif,” I murmured. “But don’t call me meyja.”
His laughter chased the darkness from my heart.
We spent the rest of the day burning the remains of the dead. It took all our strength to pile the jötnar bodies together in an impressive fire, but it was necessary labor. There was a danger in leaving such creatures behind, even if they were dead. Legend had always held that powerful beings could regenerate if even a finger were to survive. I didn’t rest until I tasted ash with every breath I took.
We built great funeral pyres for those we had lost, sending the burning bodies out on longships docked in Skien. I found my father’s crown, only inches away from his bones. Sadly, I drew my finger across the tarnished metal, remembering the man he once was. I carefully gathered his bones and added them to the pile, wishing I could give him more than a hasty end-of-battle funeral.
“Does this make you jarl of Skien now?” I asked as we stared at the mountainous remains of Fenris.
He nodded once. “We are slowly taking over the world, you and I.”
That same ambitious hunger reared within me, but I turned away from it. “I must return to Mide, Leif.”
“Soon,” he said, and something almost like contentment warmed my stomach.
As Leif and I stood side by side on the quay, reflections of the burning ships shining on the water, I clasped his hand in mine as my heart sang thanks for one thing.
We had challenged the gods and won.
29
Our return voyage was much less eventful than the last, which was something of a miracle for us. Still, it was long and tiring—full of hot sun and endless salty spray.
When at last we landed upon the shores of Mide, my father’s castle looming over us from above, I vaulted down from the longship I had once feared. As I took that first step on the rocky, sandy shore, I could hardly prevent myself from falling to my knees and kissing the ground in thanksgiving. But I had barely enough time to tilt my head to the sun’s warm rays before a horn bellowed far above us.
My heart sped up in my chest. Though technically I was the cause for the horn’s bellow, it still filled me with fiery dread. Habits died hard. The Northmen meant so much more to me now. I might not have been ready to forgive Leif’s father for what he had done to my sister, but it was Leif and Arin and Rúna and all the others who had taught me that not every Northman was a monster, just as the minds and stories of the jötnar had taught me that not every giant was completely corrupted by evil. Darkness came in many forms, and it was wrong to think that any being was beyond redemption. Even the Morrigan had moments of goodness.
“We must hurry,” I said to Leif, who join
ed me at my side. “They will think we’ve come to raid.”
“It’s no more than your mother deserves,” he said with a smirk.
“Perhaps. But my sisters and remaining clansmen do not.”
Arin ran over to us, his expression eager. “Will there be a battle?”
Leif turned to his brother with a stern look. “Stay with the ship.”
We had started up the rocky path when I heard it: the unmistakable sound of warhorses. The jangle of chain mail and weapons followed, and I doubled my pace. We had to make it to the top of the cliff, else we’d be funneled just as the Northmen I killed once had.
I glanced back at Leif. “Tear off a piece of your linen tunic—and hurry.” He did as I asked, ripping free a piece of cloth that was a dingy white, but white nonetheless. “I will go on alone. I don’t want to alarm them.”
He looked for a moment like he’d argue, but in the end nodded his assent.
I held the cloth aloft as I came to the top of the steep rise.
Before me stretched a contingent of thirty men, led by the High King of Éirinn, Brian Boru. His banner of crimson and gold flew high above him, and he rode a little apart from the rest on a white charger. The sun glinted off his dark gray armor menacingly. My heart continued to race along in my chest, for I had not forgotten that it was his daughter who was married to King Sigtrygg.
“Peace,” I said clearly in Gaelic, easily slipping back into my native tongue. “I am Ciara of Mide, and this is no raid.”
The king frowned. “Ciara, Queen of Dubhlinn, who has allied herself with Northmen?”
I raised my chin and met his dark gaze. “The same.”
“What brings you here with Northman longships and an army at your back?”
“I have come to assure myself of the safety of my sisters and clansmen,” I said.
“They are well enough now that we are here to guide them,” the king said.
“Then you must know the king, my father, has died,” I said, unable to prevent the torrent of images—the charred remains in the chapel, dying for a second time in an explosion of bones and ash—from racing through my mind.
Beyond a Darkened Shore Page 31