Dead Radiance

by Ayer, T. G.

  The weight of my waterlogged wings drew me down and I was thankful for the inbuilt seats hidden below the surface.

  "Look at these, Bryn. Here." Sigrun showed me the pipes. "Some of the pipes are closed. If a bather wants warmer water she can open them to let the hotter water in. The different geysers have different water temperatures and each bather can adjust to their liking. The only thing you cannot get is a cold bath."

  Sigrun waded to the point of the crescent, leaving me to marvel at the technology. At the point sat two marble bowls glistening with water. She reached in and retrieved soap from one and a sponge from another. "You can take these and wash in privacy on the other side."

  Relieved, I grabbed the soap and sponge and waded to the other curved space to bathe. The soap smelled heavenly, a delicious creation made from crushed rose-petals. I used it to lather my oily hair as well, as I was unable to find Asgard's brand of shampoo and conditioner in the marble bowl. As I rinsed, whole rose-petals floated around me and away on the current.

  A few minutes later, feeling refreshed, I returned to join Sigrun and commented on the ingenuity of the pool.

  "Oh yes, and you will see that dirty water from every bathing area is directed away, to flow down and out of the large pool. There is always running water and everyone knows where the cleaner water is. It's the middle and the sides."

  "Amazing."

  "We used the natural resources of Asgard. No modern technology in the Bathing Pools at all."

  "So you have access to modern technology from here?" I asked, still fumbling with the idea that this place existed in the modern day and age.

  "Oh, yes. Some of the new Valkyries are more modern than us Old Ones. And the newer Warriors bring their knowledge too. And Odin is a pretty smart one himself." Sigrun grinned and tapped her head.

  With Odin's ferocity and intelligence, I didn't doubt his ability to mesh modern technology with ancient simplicity.

  We fell into a comfortable silence until I caught Sigrun studying my amber pendant again, an expression of worry haunting her face.

  "What's the matter? Is there something about my pendant that bothers you?" I asked, but she just shook her head and averted her eyes. "Come on, Sigrun, I've seen you stare at it before and you have this strange look in your eyes. You're beginning to scare me."

  Sigrun sighed. "I am very afraid of your necklace. If it is what I think it is, then you may soon have bigger problems."

  "Well, what is it?"

  "I think it may be part of Brisingamen." She paused as if expecting me to know what she meant, but I raised my shoulders in an I-dunno gesture. So she continued: "Brisingamen is also known as the Circle of Suns. It is a necklace of incomparable amber and it belongs to the goddess Freya."

  "But my father gave this necklace to me."

  "Do you know where he found it?"

  I shook my head, though I suspected where the necklace may have come from.

  "If it was found in Brunhilde's grave, it means that she had fulfilled her quest for the goddess Freya and found Brisingamen for her. But Brunhilde never returned it to the goddess." Sigrun's eyes clouded. "Freya may take that as a sign that Brunhilde had become greedy and kept the necklace for herself."

  "Well, I'd say nobody can assume that. And maybe this isn't the necklace at all." I stroked the warmth of the amber.

  "No, the necklace is made up of nine individual amber stones, set in filigreed gold and diamonds. The main jewel, which sits at the front of the throat, is the largest of all. The amber seems to communicate with itself. It glows when the other pieces are nearby. The necklace glitters and shines, like a circle of tiny suns." Sigrun shook her head. "That pendant must be part of Brisingamen, and it is best you keep it hidden in case I am right."

  I nodded, filled with a strange icy coldness that fought against the warmth of the water around me. Odin, Valkyries, Freya and now Brisingamen! Naked, soaking in the hot waters from the geysers of Asgard, reality smacked me upside the head.

  There was no use in denying it any longer, no use in pretending this was all just a dream.

  I really was in Asgard.

  Chapter 18

  We dried off and left the Bathhouse.

  "I take it the men and women bathe separately?"

  "Yes, of course they do." Sigrun's grin glittered with mischief. "Both bathing areas are at opposite ends of the castle grounds. It prevents the naughty ones from watching us."

  "Peeping Toms?" I giggled softly as weariness pulled at my senses. "I guess boys will be boys wherever they are."

  "And Odin has his own private Bathhouse, which the other gods share when they visit him."

  I listened with half an ear. The muscles in my arms and legs felt like warm Jell-O. I was clean and fresh and way too relaxed. I'd even forgotten the weight of my wings.

  The intricacy of the pool's construction still awed me. Just walking by the water's edge was calming, as all around us waterfalls splashed and wavelets crashed against the pool's edges.

  Despite the cold weather, the grass beyond the Bath was a lush green, and in the distance, gigantic snowcapped mountains rose, forming a natural barrier around the valley. The sky was a weak blue, and it promised more cold.

  I glanced at Sigrun. It felt great to walk alongside someone without the need to make polite conversation, but curiosity compelled me to interrupt the comfortable silence. "Where are we, Sigrun?"

  "I told you. Asgard. The beautiful city of Asgard, seat of Odin, home of Valhalla." Her eyes shone with pride. She loved her city, no doubt about it.

  "No, no. I mean, our location in the world?" The weather seemed similar to back home, so I assumed we were somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere. I hadn't been in Asgard long enough to observe the time of sunset or anything that would let me know how far north we were, or any information to help me find a way home.

  "You are not thinking of running away from Asgard, are you?" She stopped in her tracks, frowning, and faced me. Her wings fluttered, emphasizing her consternation. She gripped my arm with a ferocity I'd never have expected from such a mild-mannered girl. "You cannot try to leave yet. You are here to fulfill your purpose, and you have so much more to learn."

  I gently pulled my arm free. I didn't want her to worry. And perhaps she would be in serious trouble if her charge ran away. So I lied. "No, don't worry. I have no intention of running away. Things here are far too interesting."

  And she still had so much to tell me. What was this purpose I was meant to fulfill? Why couldn't they be clear from the start? But I didn't want her to be suspicious, to stop trusting me with information. So I smiled.

  She scrutinized my face as if my features would reveal my lie. Then she nodded and let go of my arm. "Good. Then come. I have something else to show you today." She tucked her arm into mine.

  I wanted to rub my arm where her vice-like grip had dug into my flesh, but I steeled myself against such a show of weakness. The pain ebbed. Together we walked over another hill, farther away from the castle.

  Grunts and groans and the sounds of scuffling disturbed my enjoyment of the scenic view. Horses whinnied and chuffed somewhere beyond the hill, and a strange yipping filled the air. Dogs?

  I assumed it was a dog hunt.

  Yeah, I assumed.

  Until I rounded the corner and almost fell on my butt in shock.

  A handful of strange horses, along with wolves the size of the horses, were walking, prancing and running as if going through some kind of training. My jaw dropped and I stared in awe.

  Sleipnir. A magnificent eight-legged horse. Reading about one and imagining what it would look like was an entirely different experience from actually seeing a Sleipnir in the flesh. And in this case not just one, but at least a dozen. I would have thought any land creature with that many legs would look clumsy and overburdened. But the Sleipnir displayed both the grace and the elegance of an Arabian stallion.

  Wow.

  ***

  They were simply magnificent. O
f varying dark colors, they were solidly muscled and moved with a liquid grace. Despite the mud and solid clumps of soil mixed with upturned sods of grass, the Sleipnir seemed to have magically avoided the mess and came away clean and gleaming.

  The wolves, on the other hand, weren't that fortunate. Their mud-splattered, matted pelts gave them the look of your average drenched dog at bath time. I blinked many times, expecting the scene to disappear once I opened my eyes again.

  Unbelievable.

  "Come." Sigrun pulled my arm.

  My gaze strayed behind me, back to the fascinating sight, but the pressure of Sigrun's grip on my arm forced me to move. I followed with a wistful sigh, walking along a stone wall until I stood at the open gate.

  "Why did they leave the gate open? Won't the animals escape?" I regretted the question as soon as I'd asked it. Sigrun's face darkened at the word animals, and I knew I'd insulted her in some way. "I'm sorry. I . . ."

  I wasn't exactly sure what I should say to make her feel better, nor did I understand what I'd said to offend her, but an apology seemed appropriate.

  She brushed it off, though her face still retained a stiffness I'd never seen before. She said, "Do not worry about it. You have much to learn and we cannot get angry at you when you have no idea what you are saying."

  Her gaze returned to the field where a rather large man stood near the fence, watching the melee within the grounds. As we approached, he turned and I swallowed, trying really hard not to faint.

  He was not a man. Where his head should have been was the head of a wolf. A large, black-haired, toothy, scary wolf. At first I thought he was merely a bipedal wolf, but when he turned and waved at Sigrun he used a perfectly normal human hand. I desperately wanted to ask Sigrun what was going on and who this creature was, but it was too late. We were standing right beside him now, and all I wanted to do was to turn and make a run for it. My knees shivered, my wings fluttered in fear and my heart thumped faster than a freight train.

  He smiled at Sigrun and glanced at me, curiosity gleaming within intelligent eyes.

  Sigrun smiled back and blushed as she made introductions. "Fenrir, this is Brynhildr, our newest Valkyrie." The rosy color in her cheeks and the way her eyes widened made me wonder if my new friend had a crush on this monster. "Bryn, this is Fenrir, the General of the Ulfr Army," she said.

  We shook hands and I managed not to grimace as my palm met his. Normal skin to normal skin. What had I expected? Oh yeah, claws and fur. I forced myself to meet his eyes and smile. Ms. Custer would be so proud of my impeccable manners. He smiled back with a toothy, still-scary grin.

  But his eyes dropped to gaze at the amber jewel, which I hadn't been able to hide yet. His eyes lingered there. My father's gift attracted a constant stream of attention wherever I went.

  A crash among the heaving bodies in the field drew his attention away. Relieved, I watched him lope back into the thick of bodies to attend to whatever mess the wolves and horses had created.

  For the first time I recognized men among the animals. Men, dressed in reddish bronze chainmail similar to mine, who glowed a dull gold. Not the bright, blinding gold of Joshua or Brody, but a muted, angelic aura.

  "What is this place, Sigrun?" Concern and unease stirred in my gut. "And what is this 'Ulfr' army?"

  Sigrun had forgotten me in her silent adoration of Fenrir. She blinked, as if coming out a dream, and turned to me. "Oh, yes. The Ulfr are the wolves of Valhalla. They are the mounts of the Valkyries."

  "But I thought Valkyries rode horses."

  "A common Western misconception. We never ride Midgard horses, and only the highest ranked Valkyries are ever allowed the use of the Sleipnir." She nodded at the eight-legged horses prancing and dancing around the field. "They are the mounts of Odin. And gifted to the best of the Valkyrie Army. Most Valkyries travel with their Ulfr, but it is seen as far more acceptable for beautiful winged women to ride powerful horses than mangy wolves. Hence the modern perception." The anger in her voice was clear. It appeared that the modern telling of the ancient Norse legends did not sit well here in Asgard.

  "Then why doesn't someone set them straight?" I asked. "Appear on a wolf and let the world know they are wrong."

  Sigrun opened her mouth to answer, but a deeper voice spoke first. "Because Odin does not believe it is necessary to pander to the modern cultural need for beauty and acceptability," said Fenrir as he returned to the fence.

  I sucked in a harsh breath. Looking up at him, I now knew why Sigrun was half in love with this man-beast. He approached us, his furred pelt and snout gone. Replaced by long dark hair that tugged at my tummy with its painful resemblance to Aidan's beautiful curls. He had the looks of a dark Adonis, only his eyes were a steel grey. A grey that matched, strangely enough, the beautiful metallic grey of Sigrun's feathers.

  Fenrir was Asgard's answer to the werewolf.

  ***

  One of the men marched over, eyes gleaming as his shoulders heaved beneath glittering mail. His skin shimmered as if the low flame of a candle flickered inside him. Spattered with mud, and marked with purpling bruises, he strode toward us, his brow furrowed in frustration. He gave us a nod, then pulled Fenrir aside to have what seemed like a fairly heated discussion.

  I tapped Sigrun's elbow to get her attention. "And him? What is he? Why does he have that glow?"

  I hadn't yet discussed my visions with Sigrun. Hadn't yet been confident enough to bare my fears and worries to my new friend. Even in a city that shouldn't exist, even when a pair of wings grew out of my back and even when I'd just been eyeball to eyeball with a real live wolf-man, what guarantee did I have that I wasn't imagining it all or going completely off my rocker?

  She turned and looked at me. "Have you seen the aura before?"

  My throat closed and all I could do was nod.

  "When did it begin?" she asked, eagerness bright on her face.

  "Ever since I was a little girl, actually. But it changed recently." When she waited in silence, I continued. "I started seeing the auras of people who ended up dead." The bleakness in my voice pretty much matched the way my heart felt when I thought of my inability to help those poor people.

  "Then you are ready," she said firmly.

  "Ready for what?"

  "Ready for Retrieval," she replied.

  I was getting impatient. All this cryptic implication annoyed the hell out of me. "Sigrun, can you just be straight with me, please. What is this glow? What does it mean? And what in heaven's name is Retrieval?"

  She grinned and said, "The aura is only seen in a true Warrior. A Warrior worthy of the halls of Valhalla. A Warrior worthy of fighting for Odin. A Valkyrie looks for the people who glow and collects those people after they die. That is Retrieval."

  "Oh yes, I remember. Valkyries collect the dead. . . ." I trailed off as I turned the facts over in my head. "But there were girls as well. I thought Valkyries collected only the bodies of great Warriors."

  "Another misconception. Odin needs powerful Warriors to fight for him. He never would have demanded his Warriors be only men. Our women fight too; just look at all our Valkyries. They are just as strong as the men." Sigrun shook her head. "I think too many of the professors who think they know all about our history are men. You need some women to explain some of this to your men."

  "You are probably more right than you realize." I smiled. Strange how spot-on this Valkyrie was in spite of being stuck here in Asgard, safe from the rolling machine of technology.

  But now my thoughts turned to Aimee, driven to her death by a cancer so vicious it had eaten her alive. "What if someone dies of a disease?" I asked. "One of the girls was ill, really ill. She died of cancer."

  "Then she would still come to Valhalla to fight. Her illness is of no consequence, as it ailed her while she was alive. All the Warriors come to Valhalla in their afterlife. Even if they had a limb removed, they would get it back." She nodded as I raised my eyebrows. "Yes, it is true. Although we retrieve the mortal re
mains, we are also retrieving the soul and the spirit. Both spirit and soul help to heal the body, and bring back both strength and power."

  We continued walking, and I turned Sigrun's words over in my head. It made a funny sort of sense. But what about Brody?

  "Sigrun." I touched her arm and turned her to me. "There was a little boy, about ten years old, who had the glow around him? What does that mean?"

  "Oh. That means his Valkyrie never had the opportunity to retrieve him in his previous life. With every Warrior, if for some reason Retrieval does not occur within three moons of the day of death, the soul moves on to the next life. When that happens we just wait until we have the opportunity, probably within the first few years of the Warrior's life. Usually such a Warrior will have a very short life."

  "But what happens when you retrieve him? He’s just a little boy. How can a small child be a Warrior in a battle?" I shook my head. It all sounded way too bizarre.

  "He does not come to Valhalla in that form. He will revert to the form in which his soul lived in his previous life. The soul knows what shape and size would be appropriate for Valhalla. You see, the soul is intelligent. It knows what the Warrior needs. It is because of the soul that the body regenerates lost limbs, purges disease and strengthens itself for battle."

  I had to admit it made sense, a sort of fantastical sense.

  What I had to try to digest was that Brody was a Warrior of Valhalla, one of the chosen. He was now Odin's soldier and he would soon be here in Valhalla. Along with my other friends who'd glowed with such a painfully beautiful light, and then died.

  My heart quickened, and I grabbed a fence post to steady myself. I would see Brody and Joshua and Aimee again.

  Chapter 19

  Sigrun kept me so busy, I didn't get much of a chance to think about my friends from Craven. Once she got over her surprise that I could already see the golden auras of the Warriors, she whisked me off the training field. Before we left, she threw Fenrir a parting command to be ready to instruct me during the Valkyries' training session the next morning. Fenrir, eyebrows raised in surprise, just nodded.