Okay, whatever. “Niasa.” I curved my lips upward into a rarely used smile.
“Can I be white?” She wiggled in her chair as if she was super excited to play.
Had someone sent her to me as punishment?
“Sure,” I said and replaced the pieces on the board to begin a new game. “So, have you been in the induction hall yet today?”
“No, not yet. My shift doesn’t start until dusk. I wanted to relax, but I hate being alone in my room.”
I raised my eyebrows as if I understood. I didn’t. My room was one of the only places I could have any real peace. I was only sitting in the hall because it was still early and I had to wait for my next assignment.
“I’ve heard there are some different recruits lately.” Since Blondie didn’t seem to know who I was, I thought I’d see what the rumor mill was pumping out these days.
“Oh yes, it’s terrible. Those poor men can’t fight for anything, and they’re the first to die every day. We have to piece them back together. It takes forever. Yesterday, one of them didn’t even make it to the feast because he was still regenerating from the morning!”
So apparently getting information wouldn’t be hard, but shutting her up might be.
“But they must have good ideas of new styles of strategy? I mean, as stupid as most giants are, you’d think having some new ideas to outsmart them might be a good tactic.”
“Maybe, but there has been no one like that. These guys spend their time running around, bleating like scared goats, trying to stay away from the others. I work the field most of the time. Some other warriors have hunted them to see how much pain they can inflict before they die. The Valkyrie bringing these guys back from Midgard must be very cruel. It’s sad, if you ask me.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. Partially because I couldn’t believe she could say so many words without taking a single breath in between. It was impressive, if I was honest. But I wanted different information from her.
“When all the warriors just storm the field and slam into each other, it only becomes a game of numbers,” I argued. “Whichever side has the most men will win. Don’t you think Odin deserves an army where the warriors will actually use tactics to keep their own men alive while killing the most giants possible?”
It was Jemma’s turn to stare at me. She not only looked confused, but a little scared.
Licking her lips, she darted her eyes back and forth across the room and even twisted around in her seat before she leaned forward. “I know it’s not a popular opinion, but there are some that say the giants aren’t as bad as they’ve told us. They might even be nice. There’s even been evidence in a few scrolls,” she whispered, then bit the side of her lip, waiting for my response.
There were some seriously delusional females around here if they thought the giants would ever be anything other than cruel beasts. Sure, the berserkers we trained had a certain bloodlust, too, but that was understandable.
“Who says that? The giants want nothing more than to destroy Odin and all who belong to him.”
“Well, yes, that is what they’ve told us, but that seems so absolute, don’t you think? It can’t be true of every one.”
“You think that the new warriors, who can lead and create strategy, are dying because someone is being cruel, and the giants are not as bad as they’re portrayed?” I needed to see if Jemma really understood what she was saying.
“Do you think there’s a connection between the two situations? Maybe it isn’t a cruel girl, but someone who doesn’t want to keep believing in some horrible war. Ah!” She clasped her hands together and brought them to her chest. “Wouldn’t that be something? We could look forward to a time of peace instead of constant fighting. Then maybe we could enjoy more times like the nightly feasts.”
She was hopeless.
I hated sitting with someone who could think of praising Odin’s enemies. I focused on the game, and Jemma took that as a sign to tell me all about how she’d learned how to make her hair stay wavy without going frizzy while she was on the battlefield.
“It gets so humid out there,” she said.
Why wasn’t I out there fighting? I could use a stray axe to the head about now.
I dug my fingers into my thigh and focused on the game board. Halatafl was a simple game. You move to an empty space, jumping over your opponent’s colored stone if you could, knocking them off the board. The winner was whoever had five stones remaining when the other person had less. There wasn’t much strategy involved.
I had made a mistake in thinking it would be easy enough for Jemma. I seriously don’t know what the qualifications are for the sisterhood some days. This girl may as well be a draugar, for as many brain cells as she had left.
“Doesn’t seem to be your day, Jemma,” Gertie’s familiar voice said over my shoulder.
“I know! Niasa plays so well. You really do,” Jemma nodded at me. “I should get going, anyway. My shift is about to start, and I don’t want to miss any of the good injuries.”
With that, she jumped to her feet and wiggled her fingers in goodbye with a huge grin before brushing her hair over her shoulder as she turned and bounced out the door.
“I’m impressed. I would have never believed you could sit here with her long enough to play a game and not shove a dagger through her temple,” Gertie said as she took over Jemma’s seat, her red harvester aura glowing.
“You do not understand the amount of self-control I’ve used. I’ll probably never have more.”
Gertie shook her head with a wry smile. We both knew I was only half joking.
“I understand you brought in another unauthorized einherjar today.”
Here it was. At least Gertie would understand why I did it and have real information for me. I could always count on my friend to tell me the truth.
“I didn’t intend to do it this time, but you should have seen him. He was half the size of the man he fought, and kept darting in and out with quick jabs to the midsection. He had that brute sweating all over himself, about to fall down over his own feet.”
“So your guy won, then?”
I sucked in a small breath before answering. “Not exactly, but I didn’t interfere. It was just a lucky blow. The big guy knocked him against the sidewalk. I had to take him after that.”
“What’s a sidewalk? Nevermind I don’t need to know. Niasa, stop doing this. There’s talk . . .” Gertie looked down at the game board and arranged the pieces for a new game.
“What kind of talk?”
“There are some who are pushing to make you stand trial. They want you removed from the sisterhood.”
That was as close to a lie as Gertie could manage. She knew, as we all did, that there was no such thing as removal. Valkyries couldn’t live anywhere other than Valhalla. Dismissal from the sisterhood meant death.
I’d only ever seen one trial for an einherjar, and it was a sham. I didn’t know what the crime was, I’d been too young to pay attention. Nevertheless, I remembered how Odin had decided the sentence of death before it started. From what I could tell, it was a formality to ensure that everyone was present and understood the consequences of betrayal.
“It’s just Toril trying to make me look bad. I have done nothing other than make sure that the army is as strong as it can possibly be. That is the opposite of betrayal.”
“Toril may be the loudest one, but she has supporters now. The regenerators are tired of patching up your recruits. I was just over there, leaving my last assignment, and they were having a hard time with the guy you just dropped off. He was jumping all around, knocking things over and screaming about how it was all a mistake.”
Ugh. What was that guy’s problem? I’d never heard of an einherjar fighting his transition so hard. I might need to be a little more careful. Maybe.
“Did he say anything else? He was screaming a bunch of nonsense when I was bringing him in, too. I finally just stunned him so he’d shut up.”
“They quieted h
im down,” Gertie said.
I knew what that meant. It wasn’t something any of us enjoyed doing. On rare occasions, an einherjar would have a mental breakdown. They’d remember their old life, or worry about pain, or have a moment of remorse on the battlefield—none of which was conducive to a life in Valhalla. Then they’d become crazed, claw at their eyes, pull their hair, all manner of stupid things. If left long enough, they could actually kill themselves.
The einherjar fought to the death every day, but killing themselves was different. There wasn’t any regeneration from that. They immediately lost their spirit to the Gap. Forever drifting through the gray mist, neither alive nor dead, remembering everything from their former life and all the injuries they suffered on the battlefield. It was an eternity of torture.
We were equipped to avoid losing an einherjar to this fate. In the third finger of every Valkyrie’s left hand was a poison called tsori. It only took a small prick for it to ooze out as a thick, pink liquid. Administering a small drop would render the man brain-numb for a time, giving him a chance to adjust. A large drop would send him to helheim with no chance for glory in the final battle, and he’d end up doing Hela’s bidding for all eternity.
“Have you ever checked on the einherjar that you bring back, Niasa?”
“That’s not my responsibility. We’re the harvesters. Like it or not, the regenerators have the duty to help the einherjar through their transition.”
“Maybe so, but I think you should watch the battle one of these mornings. The skill level of all your tacticians might surprise you.”
“Jemma just informed me about some of that. They’ll figure it out. That’s the point, they’re smart. They know how to fight, and they’ll prove themselves as soon as they adjust to their new world.” I touched my medallion through my corslet. Everything would be fine.
A door opened from the back of the hall where the commanders worked, and I jumped to my feet, eager to have another assignment and get out of the uncomfortable conversation. The Valkyrie poking her head out the door groaned when she saw me.
“Gertie, this one is for your unit,” she called out.
I glared and sat back down.
On her way toward the door, Gertie stopped and faced me. “Promise me that you’ll go look at the battle—soon.”
“Fine, I’ll try.”
“It’s important, Niasa. Toril is gathering support, and Odin might have to order a trial.”
“I said I would do it.”
When I had absolutely nothing better to do.
5
As soon as Gertie left, Huginn, one of Odin’s ravens, flew in through an opening between the golden shields that created the ceilings of all the halls in Valhalla, except Odin’s throne room.
He landed on the table next to me and stared.
“Do I need to go right this minute?” I asked.
The black bird, who was the size of a goose, blinked once.
I sighed and pushed to my feet. “Let’s go, then.” I headed to the door and opened it for Huginn to leave first.
Odin had summoned me, and his messenger wouldn’t leave my side until I’d arrived. There was no use waiting.
I unfurled my wings and shot into the air after the raven. Odin’s throne room was at the end of the great feast hall on the other side of the battlefield. As I flew over the grounds, I peeked down to see the fighting einherjar. It was a bloody mass of bodies slamming into each other.
I shook my head and looked away. The men I’d brought were down there somewhere. If they struggled, they’d eventually figure out how to make progress.
I floated down to the base of the steps that led to the entrance pavilion. No one was allowed to fly inside. Everyone made the long walk to the throne on foot. Columns forty feet high supported the silver roof that gleamed in the light, even though the skies were an overcast shade of gray. Twenty steps loomed ahead of me, and I started up them with a little flutter forming in my stomach.
Odin had to understand what I was trying to accomplish. I hoped he did. Everything I did was because of my love for him. Nothing meant more to me than his approval. I’d never said so out loud, but I was sure he knew it. How could he not?
When I finally reached the top of the stairs, I began the long trek toward the throne. The gleaming opal floor tiles reflected my hazy red aura as I strode with confidence. In the distance, I could already see three others standing near the bottom of the dais. I groaned; one of them was Toril.
As I made my way closer, I realized that the bodies of several warriors were dumped in a pile on the ground. What could be the reason for that? Toril was watching me with a smug look on her face. I’d smack that off the first chance I got.
I had nothing to be ashamed of, so I ignored Toril, walked up to the dais, and knelt on one knee before Odin.
“Rise, my girl.” His tone was warm, though it rumbled through me like thunder. “There has been a case raised against you regarding the einherjar you see here. Can you explain why you have weakened my army by bringing such as these?”
“I have never hoped to weaken your army. Quite the opposite. Sometimes my assigned target lacked such intelligence, a more cunning warrior defeated him. I brought the clever man to you instead to enhance the skills of your mighty army with tacticians. Men who can plan strategy that would outwit any giant that ever dared challenge you.”
There was a twinkle in Odin’s eye, one that denoted a kindness and, I thought, approval. Then he spoke.
“That is a worthy goal, but it is not within an apprentice's discretion to make such a choice. You must learn your duties in the way I tell you until you have earned the right to choose for yourself.”
“All-father, by her own admission, Niasa has declared her disobedience to the rules, as evidenced here by these pathetic men that can’t call themselves warriors. She has rejected your authority. The weight of consequence must lie upon her,” Toril said.
I couldn’t believe she’d shoved herself into the middle of my conversation with Odin. What right did she even have to speak before the mighty throne? She’d been around longer than me, but that made no difference. When Odin sat in the judgment seat, no one spoke unless asked.
“Your words are clear and correct, Toril. However, there is a passion in Niasa that is valid, but misplaced. There is reason and order to the way we do things, and she wants to try her own approach. Her lack of faith in the system is a failing on those who have trained her, as much as her own misdeed.”
I could see the tremble in the muscles of Toril’s arms as she bowed before Odin. She seethed, though she held her composure. It was amusing on one level, but I knew it didn’t bode well for my future.
“Niasa,” Odin’s voice stayed calm yet commanding while he waited for me to meet his gaze. “Your enthusiasm is admirable, but you are young. The decisions I make are to be followed, without question, by all apprentices. Listen to the guidance of those with more experience. Until you can put your selfish desires aside, you will not move forward. If you continue to disobey the rules I command, you will face judgment. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my king,” I said, and I meant it. Everything in me wanted to please him. It shredded me inside to see the disappointment in his eyes.
“I hereby place you on probation. The commanders in the harvester hall will monitor your missions, and any more missteps will bring to you the appropriate consequences. I encourage new ideas, but you must learn to accept the boundaries placed on you before you can gain the wisdom to make such decisions.”
Words couldn’t make it past the lump in my throat, I could only nod.
Probation. It wasn’t a trial . . . but it would be. I could feel the pressure building behind my eyes, the sting of tears that I refused to shed. Whatever I felt, I would not show it in front of Toril.
“Our time here is finished.” Odin rose from his throne, Huginn and Muginn flapping from where they’d perched on the back to hover in the air.
Then, to my horro
r, the humiliation of my morning took a turn for the worst.
From the floor, one of the broken men moaned. Only the regenerators could wake those who needed care. Their bodies fell into a stasis until someone healed them. That one was waking on his own was unheard of. It was another piece of evidence against me. These men couldn’t even stay dead correctly.
The moaning grew louder, and then there was a gasp, followed by noises like a fish flopping about in the mud. One man was trying to extricate himself from the others, and slipping around amid the blood and gore that Toril had used to make her point.
When he finally pulled himself free, he immediately fell—due to one leg being missing, most likely. Someone should have cut his throat and saved all of us from hearing his pathetic screaming.
I sucked in a deep breath, and when I looked up, Odin was staring at me. If I had any chance of getting out of this, I needed to shut this man up.
I grabbed hold of his arm and steadied him as he continued to try to stand.
“Settle down and be quiet,” I hissed into his ear.
“Where am I? What’s happening? Please help me,” he wailed with actual tears streaming down his face. The evidence of my failure in all its snotty glory.
“I can help you if you’ll just shut up and let me.”
He was clawing at me and couldn’t keep his one leg under him long enough to stay steady. It was like trying to hold up a slippery newborn colt—if that colt didn’t have a single brain cell.
“You! You brought me here. I’m not supposed to be here!” The whites of his eyes bulged out as he shook his head. “Please take me back. He said nothing would happen.”
I glanced quickly at Odin, catching the question that formed in the furrow of his brow. This man had to get out of here, fast.
“I’ll help you if you will just stop writhing about.” I pinched my hand on the back of the man’s neck like one would grab a kitten. Finally having a strong enough hold on him, I turned to Odin. “I’m sorry for this. I will take him to the regenerators and make sure he recovers.”
Odin nodded, though a question still hovered over his face. As I raked my gaze back to the man, I saw the smirk on Toril’s lips.
Time Magic Page 3