by Kate Pearce
Mercy had so many questions, but it seemed like she was unwilling to answer even the slightest. Then it occurred to her that maybe it was simply too hard to speak of. Valkyries were strong, but their intensity applied to more than just battle. They felt everything keenly, much like the Berserkers did.
She tried to imagine what it must’ve been like to make that choice, to leave her child. She couldn’t fathom it, and even though Mercy knew it wasn’t the case, she felt like maybe she was somehow unworthy. That’s why her mother left her—she didn’t want her.
But she knew Eir loved her.
Mercy remembered one of their last trips to a reserve planet together before her “death.” Eir cried, told her again and again how much she loved her and to never forget. Her mother must have known then that she was leaving.
She thought about what Magnus said about Rollo.
Her mother had made the right choice, but it wasn’t one that Mercy thought she’d be capable of making.
Magnus spoke first when they were alone in their quarters. “I don’t know what to do here.”
“We’ll go to Lycaos Four and then decide.”
“Lycaos Four. Where it’s all sunshine and greenery. The perfect setting for happily ever after and Mercy, I just don’t know if I can do it.”
“We’ll decide together.”
“That’s the thing. I can’t stand the thought of you facing down a pig like Rollo. You have the heart of a Valkyrie, but you don’t have the skills. You haven’t been trained.”
“So train me.”
“He’s been on borrowed breath for fifteen years.”
“So what’s one more? That someone else will kill him instead of you?”
“Yes, godsdamnit. Why shouldn’t I be the one to kill him? Why shouldn’t I be the one to watch the light go out in his eyes with the knowledge that I was the one who snuffed it? Why not?” he snarled.
“Because you want it too much.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “You want it so bad that you can taste it. He’ll use your emotion against you. Even I know that.”
“And what do you think he’d do to you? How am I supposed to concentrate when I’m worried about you?”
“With you to teach me, why should you worry?” She eased down next to him. “I’m not really a Valkyrie yet, am I? For all my talk, I’m not a complement to your power. I’m a hindrance.” She looked down at her hands. “I was just thinking earlier about the last time I was with my mother.”
Mercy waited for him to be exasperated with her that she’d changed the subject, but he listened as if what she had to say was important. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to that.
“We went to a reserve planet, you know, where they have all kinds of animals in habitats from many systems? The earth one resonated with me the most. It stuck in my head. There were these great predatory cats, sleek and larger than a man.”
“Mercy—”
“No, let me finish. The way they would hunt. They would follow the tribe of gazelles, this springy-footed creatures, quick, tasty. They would watch and see who the slow ones were, the sick, and they’d quickly cut them off from the herd.”
“You’re not a gazelle.”
“I am. I’m the slow one that’s lagging behind. But that’s okay.” She nodded. “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.” She looked up at him, watching his face for signs of rejection, or to see if his expression was a closed mask as he waited for her to finish.
Again, he wanted to hear what she had to say.
“We make sure the ‘verse knows what happened to me. There will be a big fuss made until Odin can hide me away again. That is, if he survived the riot on Holle and Hel. Rollo will want to be part of that.”
“That could be genius.”
“I really wish my mother would tell me what the Commission’s plans were. If we could be sure.”
“The Commission is made up of politicians. They’ve had fifteen years to handle Rollo. We’ll take care of him.”
“I like that you said we. I really thought you were going to tell me to stay out of it.”
“I’d like nothing better. But you were right earlier. I can’t make those choices for you, even if I don’t like them.”
“Have you ever been to Lycaos Four?”
“No, but I’ve heard it’s lovely.”
“I don’t know if anything will be as lovely as our purple pool.” She grinned.
“It could be that same kind of lovely right here, right now.” He pulled her close, but then grimaced. “Actually, since it’s been fifteen years, I might need a few more hours to recuperate.”
She laughed. “Good. I was just thinking I’d love to do it again. Later.”
“How about I just hold you?”
“I think one of my tutors said that men would use that to get me into bed.”
“I’ve already got you in bed, so that kind of negates that.”
“Hmm, I suppose.” But she was content to lean into him, to let him close his arms around her and block out the world. “Whatever happens, I’m not sorry.” She didn’t just mean him holding her in this moment, she meant all of it and she wanted him to know.
“No, me either.”
She must’ve slept after that because it seemed like only a few seconds later when the pre-landing alarm sounded. They’d arrived at Lycaos Four.
Mercy quickly righted herself and met her mother in the main part of the ship, with Magnus not far behind.
“When next you see me, you may not recognize me. But I’ll be there,” Eir said.
“You’re not coming with us?” Mercy hated how weak and needy she sounded, but she’d only just found her mother and now she was leaving her again.
“Oh honey, I can’t. Eir is supposed to be dead, remember? I jeopardized not only my cover, but the mission as well. I have to get back to Rollo. But I’ve arranged transport and accommodations.”
“For how long?” Mercy asked quietly and Magnus’s warmth at her back bolstered her.
“For always.” Her mother touched her face.
“You know that’s not what I meant. When will you come back?”
“When I can.” Eir’s eyes were wide, tremulous, but her mouth was set in a grim line. “When I’ve done what I said I would do. I love you, Mercy.”
“Mama,” she whispered.
Eir pulled her into a fierce hug, and to Magnus she said, “You take care of her, do you hear me? And let her take care of you. Think about that before you leave this planet to go charging after revenge. There’s a reason the ancients said it was a dish best served cold.”
She was determined not to cry. Finding out that her mother was alive was a gift. Mercy was determined not to lament such a joyous thing, even if it meant saying goodbye again. She remembered what her mother had told her that last day at the reserve planet.
“Goodbye is not forever.” She hugged her tight.
“Until we meet again, Mercy.”
When the stairs deployed, Magnus took her hand and led her down toward the light.
The first thing she noticed was how bright everything was—even more so than she remembered. The red sun burned high in the sky, supporting all manner of blooming plant life. In fact, the hangar where they’d landed seemed so out of place. It was a harsh, sharp structure that cut through the landscape. It seemed like a terrible blight.
Whispers rustled through the crowd like crinkling of old, forbidden paper. “The Destroyer.”
Of course they knew who he was, but she supposed it was just as well the people didn’t know her.
She wondered if her father was even looking for them, and if he was, if he cared what happened to her or if he only wanted his assets back.
She wished for the first, but assumed the latter.
Mercy shook her head. She’d left that life behind. This was something new—these people before her were people her mother trusted. They wore simple clothes, the men in plain togas, the women in white dresses. Some wore silver jewelr
y, armlets that seem to serve as both adornment and armor.
Magnus’s fingers tightened around hers and she felt the waves of emotion that crashed over him.
She realized they knew him because they were Acadians.
Mercy thought about what must be her mother’s grand plan and how meticulously all of the events had to have been orchestrated to get them to this moment. Or how many things had happened by sheer, dumb luck.
The people were bowing down to him.
“No, stop.” His voice broke and then it was Magnus the Destroyer who went down on one knee.
Mercy might have hated them in that moment—the Acadians. She knew without him telling her that this had made the choice for them. Vengeance above all else. She didn’t begrudge him justice, in fact, she’d encouraged him to kill Rollo, but for a single moment she imagined them living quietly here.
A cabin by some lake, surrounded by warmth and green and growing things. Fields upon fields, open and wide.
But she’d forgotten that Valkyries did not live quiet lives.
They lived hard, they lived fast, and burned to ash.
She looked at Magnus and realized that while the quiet life seemed pretty because it was safe, it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted Magnus—all of him.
And that included the hard things, the ugly things. The things she feared. But she realized she’d rather burn out with him than ever go back to the life she had on Hel.
Mercy would do everything she’d said she would. She would learn to shoot, to fight, she’d be an asset to Magnus rather than the wilting flower that needed protection.
A woman approached, a priestess of some sort. She bore a crown. “May I?” she asked Mercy in the common tongue.
She tried to imagine her father waiting on a woman’s permission for anything. That would happen when the sun shone in the Great Dark. Mercy nodded to the woman and she placed the crown atop Magnus’s golden head.
In truth, it looked so right. He was King of the Acadians—small population though they may be, they were his people.
Now hers.
“And you? Will you accept your crown, Mercy, daughter of Eir, Valkyrie to the Destroyer?” the woman asked her.
Emotion welled thick in her throat. She’d been raised to be a leader’s wife, not to lead herself.
Magnus took her hand and she bowed her head.
She didn’t expect the crowd to cheer.
She didn’t expect this to feel so right.
Most of all, Mercy didn’t expect to belong.
The crown was a slight thing, simple, but lovely. Yet it weighed heavy on her brow.
The woman led them both through the throng of people to a conveyance and then she spoke again. “You don’t know how long we’ve waited for you, Magnus.”
“I’m sure I do.” He nodded.
“We’d heard you were imprisoned on Hel.”
“Yes.” He didn’t offer any further explanation.
“My name is Anae. I know you don’t remember me, but I brought you into the world, Destroyer.” She turned to look at Mercy. “It’s such a transformation seeing them go from fat-cheeked darlings to… that.” She offered a kind smile.
Yes, looking at Magnus it was hard to think that he had ever been small, helpless, or round-cheeked.
He arched a brow as if daring her to visualize it, but then his expression melted into one of seriousness. “Tell me, how did you come to be here? And how did Rollo not know of it?”
“With you captured, he left us in peace.”
“And when he gets word of my return, there will be war.”
“Yes.” Anae nodded. “But it is a war we’re ready for. We knew you’d return and avenge Boudicea. We prepared for your coming when we heard about what happened on Hel.”
“There’s news of Hel?” Mercy interrupted.
“Oh yes. It’s been all over the ‘verse.” Anae pushed a few buttons and a screen slipped down from the ceiling.
“Breaking news,” a voice said. “When following up on an SOS dispatch from prison planet Hel in the Asgard system, Interstellar Commission officers found this.”
And there, on the screen, was nothing but fire. A planet, engulfed in flames.
“The last transmission from Hel shows that a global riot had overtaken the planet and steps were taken for containment. Hel All-Father, Warden Lokison was on Holle when it happened and Stigurrson Brie is on the evac site with him now.”
She was torn between being glad he was still alive and wondering just how things would’ve gone down if Magnus hadn’t taken her. Would she have been among the casualties? She waited with baited breath to see if he mentioned her or Magnus.
Odin Lokison wore a proper mask of severity and empathy when he faced the reporter. Yet, for all of the struggle and the horror, his hair was perfect. Not a strand out of place. His Galaxy Corrections uniform perfectly starched and smooth.
“All I can say is that our hearts are with the families of those officers lost.”
“What about the families of the incarcerated?” Brie asked.
“Of course. It was a tragic loss of life.”
“Then why did you elect that course of action?”
“It was the only humane thing to do. A militant group within the population seized control. If they were to get off-planet, the devastation would have been galaxy wide event.”
“It’s rumored that your own daughter was still on Hel when you deployed the containment measures,” Brie said conversationally.
He stopped then and stared in to the camera, and it felt almost as if he was looking right at her, that he knew she was watching. “Yes, she was. And as I’ve said, it was a kindness.”
Her heart twisted in on itself and for the first time, Mercy felt like an orphan. It was one think to suspect her father had no use for her, even to know it in her bones, it was quite another to hear him said it on galactic television.
“We’ve had reports that she may have made it to safety, assisted by the notorious Magnus the Destroyer. Is that possible?” Brie asked.
She saw the blade of his jaw clench so tightly it looked like a knot. “No, it isn’t. As much as I wish it was. It’s unkind to offer false hope of anyone’s survival. The containment protocol is designed to eliminate all threats and with it, all life.”
He was warning her to stay dead. He knew she was alive, and didn’t care. No, didn’t want her to be alive. She was more useful to him now dead.
It begged the question why Eir had left her with him. There had to be more to it than engineering proximity to Magnus.
“Fuck him and the six-legged horse he rode in on. The man is not worth the breath it would take to grieve him,” Magnus growled and pulled her against him.
Maybe he wasn’t worth the breath it would take to rail against her pain, but that didn’t change the fact that he was her father and she’d admired him and loved him like all little girls and their daddies.
She tried so hard to please him and she couldn’t get past that place in her head that said she wasn’t good enough. There was something wrong with her, that’s why he didn’t—couldn’t— love her.
“You have me, Valkyrie. That’s all you need.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
Anae held her hand. “One of the ancients said to be careful hunting monsters, lest you become one. I think that is what happened in the case of Odin Lokison. He has become a monster to keep monsters. Do you understand?”
Mercy nodded. They were saying all the right things, but there no words in the ‘verse that could ease this ache.
8
Magnus had a hole inside him where Mercy’s pain lived. He knew that she wasn’t comforted by his words and that the only thing that could fix this was time.
Or for All-Father Lokison to not be the giant asshole he appeared to be, but that was as likely as Rollo begging his forgiveness.
He looked up and saw Anae watching him and something about her regard was wholly unsettling. Perh
aps it was because she was a priestess. He’d never had much use for them. They handed down edicts, and wove the thread of fates, but they did not fight like other Valkyrie.
Perhaps his resentment was simply that he blamed her, and himself for his mother’s death. It was much easier to channel it everywhere else but at himself and look at his own failings.
He thought about what Eir had said, that he was just a boy.
Even so, he was a man—a Berserker—now.
“We’re almost there,” Anae said. “The palace at Gylf is beautiful this time of year. You’ll have some time to settle in before the advisors arrive.”
When the conveyance stopped, it was in front of a white-pillared grand creature that stood much more in keeping with the natural beauty of its surroundings. And he saw why Eir had chosen that spot by the water—it was reminiscent of this place. A pale, lavender ocean lapped at pink sand just beyond the palace. The scents of blooming flowers tangled and twisted in a pleasing way to ease the tension from his neck and the slight breeze that ruffled his hair was like a welcome home.
Anae led them inside and to a room that overlooked that lavender sea. Long white curtains billowed at the doorway, dancing in the sea breeze and he imagined what lay beyond the waters. Were there other strange lands with new sands? He longed to build a ship and sail toward the horizon like his ancestors had in days of yore on earth.
“There is fresh produce and ration packs for your consumption. The royal chef will come with the advisors. I have much to do before they arrive.” Anae kissed both their cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.”
As soon as Anae was gone, Mercy pulled off the crown and set it down on a nearby table with a careful reverence.
“I suppose it’s unkind, but I don’t really like her.”
“Priestesses have never been my favorite people.” The golden crown on his own head felt like a lie and he followed suit and removed it.
“Me either. Pompous and pushy.” She wrinkled her nose.
He laughed and drew her near.
“Although I did like that she asked my permission before crowning you.”
“That’s how it is in Valkyrie society. I keep forgetting that you weren’t raised that way.”