She smiled, ever so sweetly, knowing I’d seen exactly what she intended. “Ta-ta!” she chirped. “It was so nice meeting you in the flesh. I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Very soon.”
The ground rumbled, and in a puff of air, they were gone.
I stood there for a long moment, then turned to Ingrid, embracing her again, relief that we’d managed to evade them again seeping out of me.
“Phoebe, we’re so happy to have you back. Come on, we have lots of things to catch up on, and it looks like you need to eat.” She tugged me along, and I went happily.
After a moment, I realized Tyr, Fen, and Sam weren’t following.
I stopped, glancing back. “Let’s go,” I gestured.
Tyr stared at the ground. Fen had changed back to his human form and stood stoically next to Sam, who looked unsure about what to do.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked. Nobody answered. I glanced at Ingrid. “They can come with us, right?”
She blew out a breath. “Not exactly.”
“What do you mean?” I was exhausted and needed to get to Yggdrasil, which even now called to me. “They are my friends. No, actually they’re more than that. They are my brother, my lover, and my best friend. Without the help of each of them, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”
“I get that, Phoebe, I do,” Ingrid said. “But rules are rules. We keep this place cloaked from anyone who is not a Valkyrie.” Huggie squawked overhead. “And I shouldn’t have to point out to you that the son of Loki is a wanted man. We can’t let them in.”
I crossed my arms. “Has Huggie been inside?”
“Yes, but the bird doesn’t count—”
“Of course he counts!” I sighed. “Ingrid, I’m hurt, emotionally compromised, and bone-tired. But I won’t set foot inside your walls without my friends. I want to find my mom. I need to train. I know I have a ton to learn, and you have the capacity to give me those things. I’m not the same woman I was when we were in New York a short time ago. I’ve changed. And I’m not bending on this. If you deny us, we will go someplace else. Likely someplace less safe.” I emphasized the word safe. “It’s up to you.”
“Phoebe…”
I shook my head.
Resigned, she replied, “I will have to talk to my sisters.” She walked toward the group, and the shieldmaidens closed in around her.
I went to stand next to Fen, Tyr, and Sam while they discussed matters.
Fen’s arm went around me, and I leaned in. “Valkyrie, you must go inside their walls,” he said. “It’s the only real protection you have. I can only do so much. We will escort your friend home safely.”
“Don’t even suggest it,” I said. “We do this together or not at all.” Tyr started to say something, and I cut him off. “We are not having this discussion. My mind is made up. We got this far together, and we’ll figure out the next step together. Each of you has proven your loyalty and friendship. I know in my heart I need all of you here. I need to free my mother. I have so much to learn. Being here will benefit all of us.”
Finally, after what seemed like an hour, Ingrid broke apart from the group and walked toward us. I stepped up to meet her. “The ladies are split down the middle,” she told us.
I waited.
A grin spread across Ingrid’s face. “But I cast the deciding vote.” She beamed. “You’re in.”
“That’s great—”
“But we have some conditions.”
“Of course.”
“The men must stay away from the main residence. They can train with you and have meals in the communal area, but they don’t enter the main living space. We have some old caves a half mile down where they can stay.”
I glanced back at Fen and Tyr. They both nodded.
“Your human friend can stay, but she has to agree to have a memory sweep if we deem it necessary.”
I glanced at Sam and was shocked to see that she appeared elated by the news. “Anything!” she gushed. “I’m sure it won’t be deemed necessary, but if agreeing gets me into that”—she gestured toward the lush valley bookended by tall mesas that had appeared like magic in front of us—“I’ll do just about anything.”
Ingrid walked past me, giving Fen a hard look. “Step out of line, even one time, wolf, and it will be the last breath you take. We will harbor you for now, as a favor to Phoebe. But only because you kept her alive and saw her safely back to us. That goes a long way in our world. Phoebe is special. What you’ve done will be honored.”
Fen bent his head, acknowledging Ingrid’s words, but said nothing.
Ingrid turned to Tyr. “I’ve heard a lot about you, God of War. You’ve been missing for many years. Our curiosity is piqued. If you enter our stronghold, we will wish to learn from you.”
Tyr bowed his head. “I will freely share what I know.”
Ingrid nodded, satisfied.
She came back to me and looped her arm around my shoulders. “We have lots to catch up on, niece! You’ll have to tell us about all your travels. But first, you need to feed. You’re nothing but skin and bones.” She shook me good-naturedly. “Around here, we specialize in turning new Valkyries into lethal fighters. By the time we’re finished with you, your muscles will have muscles. Once your weapon of choice finds you, your training will begin in earnest, and you will bloom into the great warrior you’re meant to be.”
“Finds me?”
“It’s a process.” She chuckled. “It took many tries for me to find my trusty spear. But yes, the weapon you’re meant to wield will stand out starkly among all others. In essence, it chooses you. When it’s finally in your possession, everything begins.”
“I look forward to that,” I said as we walked toward the stronghold, arm in arm.
I refused to be anyone’s victim ever again.
Now for a sneak peek of
FREED
by Amanda Carlson
– Coming Fall 2016 –
1
__________________________
____________
“Don’t worry about it, Phoebe. It’ll come.” Ingrid’s voice was confident as she handed me a new weapon. “Here, try this. It’s the mighty pickax.”
I took the ax begrudgingly. It felt like a child’s toy after hefting a fifty pound spiked cudgel all day. The pickax was lightweight and nondescript. The blade wasn’t even sharp. “There is nothing mighty about this weapon,” I chuckled. “I’m pretty sure you just dug this out of storage somewhere.” I didn’t blame her, as we were running out of options to try. I’d been training at the Valkyrie stronghold for over a month, and the weapon that was supposed to “choose me” hadn’t revealed itself yet.
I’d tried swords of every flavor and size, bows, maces, machetes, and battle axes, and that was just to name a few.
Nothing felt right.
“I’m not going to say I did or I didn’t,” Ingrid answered wryly. She’d been my champion since the day I’d arrived. She was up without fail every morning at dawn, tirelessly working on my skills, teaching me how to fight and defend myself, and overall being a great aunt and friend. “One never knows with these things. We have to try them all, from storage or not.” She winked.
“What if my perfect weapon is not actually in the Valkyrie compound?” I twirled the pickax around my head, getting a feeling for the weight and size of the weapon, like I’d been taught. It was unbalanced, which made my movements clunky. I had to be careful it didn’t catch on my sleeve, or worse come down on my head.
I wore the standard Valkyrie fighting regalia. The same clothes Ingrid had shown up with that fateful day in my apartment. A white overtunic, called a kyrtill, which fell to my upper thighs, soft leather pants, these were a caramel color, a sword belt called a balteus, which currently held Gram and the ice pick I’d taken off the dark elf I’d killed, and a pair of beautifully detailed arm bracers. The protective metal breast plate I wore had been formed to my exact measurements. It was held in place by thick leather st
raps that crisscrossed my back.
Some Valkyrie’s preferred a longer kyrtill, so nothing impeded their movements. But I liked the pants. These were pretty kickass. I’d never been tempted to wear leather before, but were by far the softest pants I’d ever owned.
The only thing I’d insisted on making my own was the footwear.
Valkyries usually wore simple leather shoes, but I knew I needed more. My request had been granted, but no Valkyrie knew what a Doc Marten was, so I’d had to draw a map to the shoe department at Macy’s where I worked.
The next day I’d found a beautiful pair of high lace-up boots outside my door.
Door was a loose interpretation.
The entire stronghold was literally carved out of the side of a sandstone mesa, just like the Pueblo Indians had done with their cliff dwellings. The only thing different were the Valkyries had modern conveniences, such as beds, furniture, you name it. Things ran on energy harnessed by the sun, which is why they’d chosen New Mexico in the first place. Sunny days were the norm here. The workings were far more advanced than solar. They assured me some day humans would catch up.
Because of the arrangement we’d made to get the guys in, Fen and Tyr were not allowed in the main area. So the three of us, and Sam, had our own separate quarters a half a mile away. They were a little less high tech, but they’d worked just fine.
“Don’t worry, Phoebe. You’ll find yours soon enough,” Ingrid said. “Our weapons have a way of knowing when we need them. My guess is you’re still too green, so it’s waiting to reveal itself like a present on Christmas morning.”
I took a few practice swings with the pickax, air whizzing by the blade as it came down swiftly. I’d grown immeasurably stronger during my stay here. Ingrid insisted I feed from the tree every other day. I was toned and strong. My balance was much improved and I’d learned to fight with my hands.
The only thing we were waiting on was learning how to harness my inner energy.
Ingrid had insisted I wait until I was ready, as it was “a tricky thing to learn.” I wasn’t in a position to dictate anything, so I went along with the agenda. The only thing that occupied my mind, urging me to find my weapon and harness my energy, was finding my mother.
We had encountered a dark elf when we were fleeing New York City, and it had told us they were keeping my mother in Svartalfheim, their home realm, alluding to torture among other things. I couldn’t get those thoughts out of my head.
Every time I brought up the fact my mother needed rescuing, and we had to go get her, Ingrid replied, “Your mother is the strongest Valkyrie I know. She will endure. When you’re ready, we go.”
I swung the pickax in the air again, pinwheeling it with my arm, making my way over to a bales of hay. Each was a different shape and size. With thoughts of my mother in danger, I swung the axe down with everything I had, embedding it solidly in the middle of the red X painted roughly over the straw.
The bale exploded handily, hay flying everywhere, each side toppling to the ground, rocking like two dead weights before the lay still.
“That was great.” Ingrid clapped, her voice sounding genuinely appreciative. She strode over, looking fierce as always. She wore her blonde hair in a flattop, but she was one of the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. “That was a better than what you did with the cudgel all day. How does that weapon feel in your hands?” With the cudgel I’d only managed to spray hay everywhere, beating the bales to death like a frustrated child fisting a feather pillow.
I shrugged, bringing the ax up to inspect it, turning it over in my hand. “Honestly, it’s nothing special. It doesn’t hum in my hand, but I have a hard time imagining this is my weapon.” Not only was the blade dull, calling it a blade at all was iffy. It was more like a tool you’d use to climb Mount Everest with. The handle was chipped and warn. It was not a weapon anyone would take seriously.
No one would run screaming if they saw me brandishing this pickax.
“No, you’re likely right, this isn’t it, but we gotta go with the weapons we have access to,” she agreed. “Give it another try. Maybe it’ll sing this time.”
I eyed it. “Does this even qualify as a weapon?” I flipped it to my left hand, taking a few swings. I had mastered using both hands and pretty proud of my newfound agility. I wouldn’t exactly classify me as a klutz before, but smooth wasn’t in my repertoire either. I’d been a swimmer in high school, and the only thing I’d ever swung before hitting the Valkyrie stronghold was a baton in junior high and a baseball bat during our family picnics. “I think we should call it a tool from now on. If this is truly my weapon, I’m going to be the biggest pansy in Valkyrie history. It might get me voted out of the sisterhood before I even join.”
Ingrid chuckled. “You haven’t met Helga yet. Her weapon is a hammer. And we’re not talking Thor hammer here. We’re talking hardware store hammer. But,” Ingrid shook her head appreciatively, “the girl can make that puppy sing. I’ve seen her take out more eyes than you can count. She uses that claw like it’s an extension of her hand. Brutal.”
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About the Author
Amanda Carlson is a graduate of the University of Minnesota, with a BA in both Speech and Hearing Science & Child Development. She went on to get an A.A.S in Sign Language Interpreting and worked as an interpreter until her first child was born. She’s the author of the high octane Jessica McClain urban fantasy series published by Orbit, and the Sin City Collectors paranormal romance series. Look for these books in stores everywhere. She lives in Minneapolis with her husband and three kids.
Find her all over social media
Website: amandacarlson.com
Facebook: facebook.com/authoramandacarlson
Twitter: @amandaccarlson
Other Books by Amanda Carlson
Jessica McClain Series:
BLOODED
FULL BLOODED
HOT BLOODED
COLD BLOOED
RED BLOODED
PURE BLOOED
BLUE BLOODED (COMING 2016)
Sin City Collectors:
ACES WILD
ANTE UP
ALL IN
Phoebe Meadows:
STRUCK
FREED (coming Fall 2016)
Nothing is created without a great team.
My thanks to:
Awesome Cover design: Damon Za
Digital and print formatting: Author E.M.S
Copyedits/proofs: Joyce Lamb
Final proof: Marlene Engel
Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1) Page 27