Once more at ease, I realized I was still hungry. The scones were comforting, but not very filling. I hopped to my feet and went to get a plateful of boar bacon.
After we’d resumed our seats at the table, and spent a few minutes filling our stomachs, Gertie stared at me a little longer than necessary.
“What? I’ll wipe off all the grease when I’m finished,” I said, thinking how ridiculous it was to use a napkin in the middle of a meal.
Gertie snorted. “Sure. You have it in your hair, too. But I was thinking about something else.” She hesitated, seeming to choose her words carefully.
I put a whole piece of bacon in my mouth and chewed slowly, hoping it would keep me from answering whatever she obviously wanted to ask. I had enough regret to deal with.
“Why do you keep ignoring the assigned einherjar and bringing back those others?” Her face crinkled in disgust as she finally asked the question.
They weren’t that bad. In fact, I was sure they were probably already teaching the other warriors better tactics and providing for a strategic edge in combat.
“Haven’t you noticed how the men in Midgard have changed? They use more thought than brute force. It will give us the advantage when we fight the giants at Ragnarök.”
“No human can outthink Odin. If he thought they had better plans, he’d ask us to change. Maybe you should think about following the rules more often. It wouldn’t get your wings clipped so often.”
I shrugged and went back to my bacon. Some of what she said made sense, but it hadn't convinced me I was wrong.
“Toril said I’m being watched,” I said. “Do you think she’s right? Am I in danger of being cast out?”
“I wouldn’t listen to her, she’s jealous of your relationship with Odin. She follows every rule, and still can’t get as much of his attention as you do.”
Even Gertie thought Odin treated me differently?
When I was younger, of course he’d spent more time with me. I was the only child in Valhalla, and I needed help. But I’d always believed that the reason Odin had allowed me to train at ten instead of fourteen was he wanted me out of his way—as since then, we’d only visit with each other occasionally. When we did, he’d either reprimand me for something the commander had told him I’d done, or he’d check on my training. He’d never really punished me, though . . . just warned me to heed the rules in the future.
If I was being watched, did that mean he regretted his decision?
I’d always felt that Odin must need me for something great. That there was a purpose I just needed to find.
My mind swirled, and I decided a change of subject would do both Gertie and me some good.
“Have you noticed the clothing the humans wear now? It’s odd, but I’ve tried a few of the styles and they’re comfortable—if you’re not in combat. The guy I claimed yesterday though, wore his pants so low he nearly tripped on them. I was embarrassed for him but then he flung himself in front of a child to save her from being hit by a stray projectile.” I sighed as I remembered the last time I was in Midgard.
“What are you talking about?” Gertie was devouring a large slab of ham smothered in gravy, with mashed turnips. I cringed. “What clothing? And just say spear or whatever it was. Just because Odin taught you to read doesn’t mean you have to use big words.”
I stared at her for a moment. “You haven’t noticed the trousers called jeans, or how tunics have turned into t-shirts?”
She shook her head.
“What about the different weapons? I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen anyone use a spear.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about. A tunic is still a tunic, as far as I know, and I’m sure the spears are there, you just aren’t paying attention. Don’t be absurd. We’d better go—they’ll hand out assignments any time now, and I don’t like to be late,” Gertie said as she stuffed one last bite of ham into her mouth, letting the gravy drip from her chin.
I rose from my seat and studied the expression on my friend’s face as we walked away. This wasn’t the first time she’d seemed confused when I talked about the human realm. How could she not notice something as simple as the different way people dress? And, she certainly had to know about the weapons. Every time I went on an assignment, Midgard looked different.
3
How was it that Gertie didn’t see all of this?
In the half hour I’d been sitting on the coffee shop stool, looking out the window at the bustling crowds of New York, I hadn’t seen a single tunic. At least, not in the style they were worn in Valhalla. There wasn’t any way she could miss the differences.
In truth, I didn’t understand the reason Midgard always looked different each time I came. I couldn’t help but notice the changes. Then again, I always took corporeal form and enjoyed my surroundings. Maybe Gertie stayed ethereal, waiting for her assigned einherjar and ignoring everything else.
That had to be it. We’d never talked about it, because I figured everyone changed like I did, so it was no big deal. Maybe I was wrong. It wouldn’t be the only way I differed. Everyone else also used the Bifrost ladder, a separate branch of the pathway between the humans and those from Asgard. Not me. Not long after I’d started my apprenticeship, I’d discovered on my own how to fly fast enough to break the barrier between realms. The harvester order commander had gone straight to Odin with her concerns, trying to have me dismissed, but he’d only smiled.
“Let her find her own way,” he’d said.
I’d been so terrified he’d kick me out of the sisterhood. Being the only child in Valhalla, I hadn’t made keeping track of me an easy task—constantly pushing limits, and doing my own thing—but his approval had meant the world to me. Ever since his proclamation, I’d left for Midgard on my own, away from the others. Regin, the commander, made me stay out of view of everyone else when I traveled.
I didn’t mind, I liked working alone. But maybe that’s why Gertie didn’t have as much fun when she came to Midgard. She would have to follow the unit leader, and they would only be interested in claiming quickly. It was a real shame, actually. She should give corporeal form a try and just watch the people. Not to mention try the food.
The drink I’d ordered today was delicious—some form of coffee, chocolate, and steamed milk called a mocha. I was grateful to have a form of payment for it.
A long time ago, when I was still too young to apprentice in the sisterhood, Odin had given me a gift . . . a purse that I attached to my belt. He’d said it would come in handy when I was older. I’d never questioned the way the right style of coin or paper showed up just when I needed it. Today, it had been some form of a rigid rectangle that I handed to the serving woman, hoping she knew what it was. She took it without question and slid it through a groove in a machine, then handed me a strange stylus to sign my name.
I wondered if Gertie knew how to do that. I’ve never seen her or anyone other than me use a feather quill. That was another gift that came at a young age. Odin had sat with me every night until I’d learned how to write.
It made sense, though. I was different from the others. My Valkyrie mother had fallen in love with a mortal, and, against the laws of all the realms, somehow conceived me. In a panic, she’d hidden herself on Midgard—trying to hide the shame I’d brought her, no doubt.
Leave it to me to screw things up.
She’d made it back to Valhalla just in time to get help with my delivery before she died. I would have died too, if not for Odin. My mother was part of the sisterhood, but why he saved me when I’d just killed her, I’d never made sense of. Especially now, when it was obvious I’d inherited her inability to follow rules.
“Hello, is anyone sitting in this seat?”
The smooth, low tone of a male voice so startled me out of my thoughts, I literally yelped and jumped to my feet. Coffee splashed out of my cup, and onto the counter and the floor as I stared into the face of the man who’d spoken.
“I’m so s
orry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s a little crowded in here, and I didn’t want to take a seat that you might be saving for a friend.”
The words jumbled in my brain as I tried to process what was happening. No one had ever spoken to me when I was on assignment. I didn’t care, it’s not like I was there to make friends, but . . .
Then I suddenly realized how offensive he’d been.
“I’m not frightened. It would take a lot more than that, believe me. Sit wherever you want.” I settled back onto my stool and used a napkin to clear away the spill on the counter.
Frightened. If he only knew.
I could show him a thing or two about how to scare someone.
“I’m Donovan, by the way.” He stretched out his hand to me, and I leaned back.
What was making him feel the need to speak to me?
My forehead pinched as I glanced at his gesture. A large sapphire ring on his finger sparkled in the light coming through the window.
“Not into conversation, then? That’s okay. But how about I grab you a scone to make up for the coffee I made you spill? They have some great maple ones here.”
I twisted in my seat to stare at him. This human—Donovan, as he felt the need to tell me—wanted to buy me a maple scone.
Who was he? How did he know about my love for scones?
His dark hair was cropped close to his head, and the jacket he wore looked well made. The way he smiled at me seemed familiar, but I was sure I’d never seen him before. His eyes were a green I’d remember; they were the same shade as my own.
I didn’t know how old I was in human terms. I’d witnessed centuries pass on Midgard, but time was irrelevant in Valhalla. Odin chose every other Valkyrie based on her prowess as a warrior, the same as the einherjar. Whatever age they were when they arrived, that was the age they stayed. Since I was born there, assigning myself a number of years seemed unnecessary. I’d grown into an adult body, then I’d stopped.
A group of girls sitting at a table behind me kept squealing about a mutual party they were throwing for turning sweet 16. Whatever that meant, I didn’t know, but from what I could tell, I looked about the same age.
One of the changes I’d witnessed on Midgard through the years was that girls were no longer forced to marry at a young age. Further, this man would be considered far too old to be making advances. For that reason, as well as his annoying friendliness, I wanted to send him flying across the room, into the brick wall.
He didn’t seem to pick up on my mood. With a little chuckle, he patted my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
I swiped at my shoulder, glaring as he walked away. I needed to leave before he came back.
When I turned to grab what was left of my coffee to go wait on the street for my target, I gasped. The einherjar I was there to pick up ran right in front of the window where I sat, his black aura clearly visible around his body.
While I’d been distracted by some human, my assignment had arrived without my notice. Great! Now I’d have to improvise. I couldn’t switch out of my corporeal form in the coffee shop, so I’d have to chase him down.
I definitely should have worn my flat boots today. Sighing at my unfinished drink, I headed for the door.
As I pushed through the people standing in line, I heard a shout. Donovan had spotted my exit attempt and was trying to get my attention. I hurried outside faster, then jogged away.
I caught sight of my assignment just as he was tackled by another man, who charged at him from the side. I ducked quickly down a set of stairs that led to a door below street level. I could change my form down there and no one would notice.
When I flew into the air afterward, my wings stretching luxuriously wide after being confined, I could see the two men locked in combat. I considered that this would actually make it better for me. If the man died in the midst of battle, he would go into a front line unit on the battlefield. That honored position would help my reputation and allow me to advance out of my apprentice position.
Typical of a brute’s warrior style, he used all of his muscle to try and smash his opponent to the ground in one stroke. Unfortunately, the other man was too skilled. He dodged the beefy arms grabbing at him, and struck at his opponent’s kidneys with quick, viper-like strikes. He danced around, seeming to taunt the bigger man, until the brute started to tire. Breathing hard and sweating, he was giving up.
How was I supposed to bring that back to Valhalla? If he couldn’t even last ten minutes in a sissy street fight, there was no way he’d last in a battle with heavy weapons. The other guy, that’s what we needed. Someone who knew how to think. How to outsmart his opponents and use their weaknesses against them.
He had a transparent aura, which indicated that either his afterlife wasn’t settled, or he was bound for Empyrean. It all meant the same thing to me—off limits. But the giants wouldn’t be able to defend against a force with brains. Odin could win at Ragnarök with that kind of army.
I groaned as I tried to stop talking myself into disobeying my orders—again.
While I struggled against myself, the big man, his black aura shimmering and his mouth curled into a cocky smile, gave one final burst of speed. He charged at the skilled fighter and struck his fist against the smaller man’s temple, causing him to wobble on his feet in a daze before he fell. My assigned brute gave a victory laugh, stepping closer to the man laying motionless in the street.
Oh, rot.
A crimson puddle oozed from beneath his skull, and I could see his spirit starting to sit up. That made up my mind. One more rebellious act to add to the rest; hopefully I’d be able to plead my case.
I tightened my wings and dove for the dead man on the street. Reaching down, I took him by the arm, and pulled his spirit from his body. Then I heaved my wings to shoot into the sky.
The next thing I knew, my arm twisted back and forth as the guy screamed and flailed all around.
“Settle down. What’s your problem?”
“Who . . . Who—what—are you?”
“I’m the one saving you from the Gap and an eternity of torture. Quit fighting me.”
“No, I was just supposed to delay him. I can’t be dead.”
His thrashing made it difficult for me to build enough speed to break through the barrier between Midgard and Valhalla.
“That wasn’t the deal!” he continued. “Just get in his way for a few minutes, that’s what he told me. It was my big chance. He was going to pay. This can’t be happening.”
He clawed at my hand around his wrist, a pathetic attempt at escape.
I could feel a headache starting as he continued to yammer. When my patience was at an end, I pulled the man’s face even with mine. Heat built in my chest, and I could see the glow coming from my eyes shining against the apparition of his face. Scared into silence, the man’s eyes bulged. I blew my breath into his face, and he went limp. I smiled in sweet satisfaction.
When I landed in front of the induction hall, the man was still stunned. I tossed him over my shoulder and managed to only knock his head against the doorframe twice as I entered.
The receiving Valkyries didn’t hide their disdain for me. They never did. A green aura shined around them, marking them as the regeneration order. I supposed it made them feel they were special or something . . . To me, it was the mark of second place, the position of those who couldn’t cut it flying between the realms.
I dropped the man to the ground with a feigned smile and turned to leave.
“This is not a marked einherjar, Niasa,” Seshafi, the regenerator commander, called to me.
I rolled my eyes and turned around. “Really? Huh, that’s odd.”
I didn’t need to listen to the self-important scolding of the regenerators. I’d hear plenty from my sister Valkyries soon enough.
I pushed through the wooden doors as muttered comments about my deficient abilities bounced off my back. I had bigger things to think about than the fool I’d just dropped off. His antics
when I grabbed him bothered me, but not as much as his words.
What did he mean he was ‘just supposed to delay’ the other guy? It was almost like he knew I’d be coming. No mortal knew when I, or any other member of the sisterhood, would come for them.
Then there was that guy in the coffee shop.
It still annoyed me that he seemed to know I like maple scones. It could be a coincidence, because who doesn’t like them, but it didn’t make sense. The first time anyone talks to me, they have the exact same pastry preference as me?
Something strange was going on, and I needed to find out what it was.
4
No one enjoyed waiting around for their next assignment, least of all me. It was one of the worst parts of being in the apprenticeship corps. If I was on my own, I could be back out there, searching for the next hero. Instead, I was in the harvester hall, playing halatafl against myself.
The white pieces had just won over the red when another Valkyrie walked in. She was a regenerator, and I expected she was there to find me, but she headed toward the mead barrel. The front area of the hall was a place for anyone to relax when they weren’t working.
I nodded to her when she looked my direction, and I guess it was enough for her to feel I’d invited her into my space.
“Are you playing alone?” she asked.
Well, no, my partner is an einherjar that has learned how to stay in spirit form. Don’t you see him? Ugh.
“Yep.”
“I haven’t played in a while, but I can join you so you don’t have to play both sides.”
This girl had long, blonde, wavy hair that screamed ‘look at me, I’m perfect,’ and a dazzling white, toothy grin. What gives with that? No one needed to be that happy all the time. I didn’t want her company, but I wanted information, so I agreed and spread my hand toward an empty seat as if I was grateful for a companion.
“I’m Jemma,” she offered.
Time Magic Page 2