Valhalla Beckons

by Alex Steele

  The destruction our fight had caused was too much to process as I ran toward Swift. This entire level of Moira had been laid to waste. A group of valkyrie flew overhead, finally freed from the creatures that had held them back. They didn’t pay me any attention as they flew toward Fear’s corpse.

  As I neared the building, Swift stumbled around the corner. She was hurt and barely able to walk. Blood streaked the armor she’d taken from Alruna. “Is it dead?” she asked hoarsely.

  I nodded. “I cut its head in half. It better be. You owe me lunch, and I’m definitely going to demand something good this time.”

  She looked at me in confusion. “Why do you have...wings?”

  With a deep breath, I pulled the magic back inside of me. “Long story.”

  You have no idea.

  Fifty-One

  I pulled Swift’s arm tighter around my shoulders to keep her upright as we walked through the empty halls. They’d left no guards, or they’d run in fear. I couldn’t blame them. The only thing that had made me capable of overcoming Fear had been my mayhem magic.

  “Do we have a plan?” Swift asked, her face twisted in pain from her injuries.

  “No,” I said, trying to adjust my grip on her so my fingers weren’t digging into the wound on her side so badly. “I don’t even know if Yamashita is right about trying to destroy this thing, but I want to see it, and make sure it’s safe.”

  The hallway ended with a door that stood open, as if in invitation. We limped toward it. The only thing keeping me upright was anger and sheer stubbornness. Swift still wore the valkyrie’s damaged armor. It felt cold under my hands.

  “I can’t believe we survived that,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Don’t say that, you’re going to jinx us.”

  As we passed through the door, I came to an abrupt stop. Swift inhaled sharply, transfixed by the same thing that had frozen my steps.

  Magic has many different feels. The sharp heat of fire, the feather soft touch of shadow, and the bright spark of a berserker’s rage. This was beyond all that. It was pure. There was no smell to it, no taste, and no color. It was like water flowing all around us. Invisible but undeniable.

  The thing Yamashita had called Pandora’s box sat on a pedestal in the otherwise empty room. To call it a box was to oversimplify it, but it was hard to do anything else. Light bent at strange angles to give the illusion of a shape but I wasn’t sure it would feel the same if I touched it.

  Lines of runes were engraved into the floor itself and they pulsed with the strange energy that emanated from the box. The lines of runes led to the walls as if they were siphoning magic away. This must be how they used it to power the Rune Rail and other things in Moira.

  Atticus stood in front of Pandora’s Box, entranced by the dance of light that twisted in on itself in an endless loop. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Beautiful and dangerous,” Swift said, leaning against her mace to stay upright.

  He tore his eyes away to look at us and grinned. “I believe you can say that about all magic.”

  Swift glared at Atticus, the berserker rage still alight in her eyes. “So good of you to help during the fight.”

  Atticus waved away her comment. “I sacrificed the glory of battle to ensure this stayed protected. I’m sure you understand. Orders are orders, after all.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  There were footsteps behind us and we shifted to see both the new intruder and Atticus at the same time. Lord Chancellor Swift walked in, followed by a valkyrie I didn’t recognize with a severe expression on her face. The Chancellor said something to her quietly. She nodded, then left.

  I wasn’t sure if he’d been here during the entire conflict or if the valkyrie had brought him here once it was safe, like Alruna had brought us. It was obvious now the valkyrie worked for him in some manner. That must have been why Alruna had to go to so much effort to keep her interactions with us secret.

  The weight of magic in the room increased as Swift’s father walked toward us. His gaze was on Pandora’s Box, ignoring his daughter’s injuries, and my presence.

  “Any issues, Atticus?” The Chancellor asked.

  Atticus inclined his head. “The fight never entered the building.”

  The Chancellor came to a stop directly in front of the magical item. He inspected it silently before turning to face us. “Whatever you know, or think you know, you will keep to yourself. That is an order.”

  Atticus watched from beside him like a vulture, ready to pounce if we disagreed. He’d looked the same way when he’d been arresting Chief Bradley. It was starting to seem like a personal grudge.

  “We don’t take orders from the Mage’s Guild,” I said as calmly as I could manage.

  He smirked at me. “You will.”

  Much like Fate, the Chancellor seemed to think he could control me. I was sick of it. I looked into his deep, red eyes and was tempted. Maybe I could get a lucky strike in. Maybe I could destroy him here and now.

  Swift swayed slightly, her breathing labored.

  I turned away from Lord Chancellor Swift. This wasn’t the moment to fight him. It would only put my partner in danger, and there was no guarantee I would win, not with the amount of power he had at his fingertips. I had to unlock the power I’d taken from the warlock if I wanted to even have a chance.

  “Let’s find the others and see if there are any survivors,” I said quietly to Swift.

  She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and nodded, looking as pissed as I felt. And just as defeated.

  Fifty-Two

  Swift limped ahead of me toward Danner, who was singed from head to toe but still standing. A few people stared at her armor. Despite the damage it had taken, it was still eye-catching.

  The survivors were huddled around the edges of the top level of the Rune Rail. Apparently some were still trapped on the upper levels of Moira, refusing to pass through the area where most of the fighting had occurred. It would take time to evacuate the city.

  A shout caught my attention and I spotted Billy with a team of medics carrying in stretchers with wounded. He was covered in blood and looked fairly beat up, but he was giving out orders to the various people helping and walking. I relaxed slightly. One less person to worry about. I should have known he’d make it through this and end up helping out. He was more resilient than I gave him credit for.

  Lopez waved me over to the side where she stood alone, also looking a little singed. I jogged over, glad to see she was alright. There was no sign of Viktor.

  “Where’s your...boyfriend?” I asked, looking around.

  “No clue, but I think we can agree that’s for the best right now,” she said with a sigh. “There is something else you should know though.”

  “What’s that?”

  She shook her head in frustration. “Director Harland was killed in the attack.”

  My jaw dropped in shock. I hadn’t known the Director well, but she had obviously been protecting Chief Bradley. The first thought that flitted through my mind was that this attack had been used to cover up her assassination somehow.

  You don’t say…

  I shook my head, not wanting to believe it.

  “Are you okay?” Lopez asked.

  “Yeah, I just...was Bradley injured?”

  “Not as far as I know. The Mage’s Guild offices are on the top level and the fighting didn’t reach that area.” Moira had many levels to the city and the fight happened on one of the middle levels that was mainly populated with businesses, rather than housing.

  I dragged my hands down my face. “I need to go tell Swift.”

  Lopez nodded as I hurried toward my partner. Lord Chancellor Swift entered the room as I walked toward her, drawing the attention of the magisters. He strode in like he was the hero of the hour. Their savior. He was nothing more than a power-hungry coward as far as I was concerned. How many people had died today while he hid somewhere?

  M
y phone buzzed with a message. I was surprised it hadn’t been damaged in the fight, but the screen was still intact.

  Y gone. With the head. Also RR working again.

  I immediately called Bootstrap.

  “Yo.”

  “What do you mean Y is gone?” I demanded.

  I heard him shuffling around in the background of the call. “So, the wards are meant to alert you to intruders, and keep out people with bad intent. They don’t really stop people from leaving…”

  “And you weren’t watching her?”

  “I was watching the other people you asked me to keep an eye on! Next thing I know, she’s gone with the head!” Bootstrap protested loudly.

  “Find her. Now.”

  “Already working on it,” he muttered.

  I hung up the phone without a goodbye. It wasn’t really Bootstrap’s fault she’d run. After everything, I didn’t think she was a flight risk. Patterson must have changed something, though I had no idea what.

  Swift met my eyes as I approached and I braced myself to give her all the bad news.

  Fifty-Three

  I had showered off the grime I’d been covered in from the fight. Injuries that I didn’t even remember getting had been healed before we’d left Moira. I should have felt refreshed and victorious. Instead, the weight of things that still had to be done made my steps heavy.

  Swift was sitting in the library, a dark silhouette framed by a tall window. The valkyrie’s armor sat on the floor beside her –– now cleaned of blood but still damaged. It was snowing outside. She was reading a book in front of the small fireplace that was just big enough to warm the two armchairs set in front of it. A fire was crackling merrily giving the whole scene a homey feel that was out of place after the day’s events.

  She looked up as I approached, setting the book aside. “Any news on Yamashita?”

  I shook my head. “None. She vanished into thin air. Bootstrap thinks she had help.”

  “Ah.” She stared at me for a moment. “Why do you look like you need to tell me something, and don’t want to?”

  “Do I really look like that?”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yes. Now, what is it?”

  “Why the pink hair?” I asked abruptly, wanting to avoid this whole conversation.

  “What? Why are you asking me that?” Swift’s expression of determination had switched to confusion, her brows knitted together.

  “I’ve just always wondered. You’re all about following the rules, but you have pink hair and wear a flashy trench coat. So, why?”

  She shifted uneasily and ran her hand through her hair, considering the question. “I suppose it’s my own little rebellion. I dyed it right before my eighteenth birthday, the day my mom had arranged an interview for me that I hadn’t wanted. I still got the job, thanks to my name, but it made everyone turn their heads and finally...see me. They paid attention, and they saw that I wasn’t my mother’s mini-me. The duster is just because I like it.”

  “Oh, that actually makes sense.” I rubbed my hand along my jaw.

  “What were you going to say before? Don’t think I’m going to let you get away with distracting me.”

  I sighed and plopped down in the leather armchair across from her. “I should have told you sooner, so let’s just get that part out of the way. I’m sorry.”

  She sighed. “If you’re apologizing willingly, I know it’s bad.” Pinning me down with a glare, she waited. A log popped in the fire beside us and I wished I could be taking a nap, or reading a book, or anything but having this conversation.

  “Fate showed up one more time right after the warlock case. The night we had Lopez and Danner over for dinner at my Tokyo apartment.”

  Her face darkened. “Yes, you told me about this after Fate broke your katana?”

  I nodded. “But I didn’t tell you everything.”

  She took a deep breath and curled her hand into a fist as though she was restraining herself from an outburst. “What else did he tell you?”

  “He showed me a vision of you dead, and claimed that you’re doomed. That at some point I’ll have to choose between saving you and saving hundreds, maybe even thousands of lives.” I dragged my hand roughly down my face. I didn’t like saying it out loud.

  “That’s not even a choice. You’d do what you needed to for the greater good. Don’t you ever save my life if you could save someone else’s.” She didn’t even hesitate. That was who Lexi was, through and through. She was a hero. She would do whatever it took to protect people and barely thought about herself. I admired it, and hated it.

  “You make it sound so easy. I’d rather not have to make the choice at all. I don’t buy into this destiny and fate bullshit.”

  She shrugged. “Me neither, but if that’s all you failed to tell me, then as annoyed as I am, it’s not that bad.”

  I winced. “About that…”

  “Logan, just spit it out.”

  “Your parents killed mine the day the Mage Wars ended,” I blurted out, wishing I could take back the words as soon as what I’d said registered on her face.

  Her eyes widened and all the color fled. She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it and looked away, staring into the fire. Her hands shook slightly where they were curled into fists on the armrests.

  The statement hung between us, sucking all the air out of the room. I wished I could take it back. It wasn’t her fault, and it shouldn’t be her burden.

  “You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t know for sure.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement.

  “No, I wouldn’t,” I agreed, for lack of anything better to say.

  She went quiet again. I could see the thoughts racing around in her mind. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and tension radiated from every inch of her body.

  “I’m sorr––”

  “Don’t ever apologize for what your parents did. Not to me.” I said, cutting her off. This wasn’t something I could live with her feeling guilt over. “You were not involved and didn’t know.”

  She shook her head, pressing a trembling hand to her mouth. “I hate them.” After taking a deep breath, she finally turned her gaze to me. “We’re going to make them pay for this and everything else they’ve done. I promise.”

  “I know.”

  Logan Blackwell’s and Lexi Swift’s story continues in HONORLESS. Sign up to the newsletter to get the short story OFF DUTY.

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  Cast

  Logan Blackwell – Logan Blackwell is a long-time agent at the International Magical Investigations Bureau. He is a Mayhem Mage, cursed with a rare and chaotic magic. Blackwell likes to do things his way, and is particular about his cars, suits, and food.

  Lexi Swift – An eccentric Berserker Mage, and new IMIB agent. She transferred from the Magical Artifacts division and is now Logan Blackwell's partner. She wears a blood red trench coat, knee high leather boots, and has short pink hair. As a Berserker Mage, she is a formidable fighter, and a little bit crazy.

  Chief Bradley – Chief of the Homicide and Robberies Division of the IMIB. A stocky and wide man known for his loud rants and keen intellect
. It is suspected the tank is named after him.

  Sgt. Lopez – Sergeant with the IMIB, Homicide and Robberies Division. A short woman with dark-brown hair and eyes the same color, and a round face that makes her look approachable. However, she is a determined and intelligent officer that doesn't let anyone push her around.

  Viktor – Coroner at the IMIB and a necromancer. He can raise anything from the dead as long as the head is still intact. The Russian man has an imposing presence, a chiseled jaw, and is suspected to have wrestled a bear...and won.

  Sgt. Danner – Sergeant with the IMIB, Homicide and Robberies Division. Looks unkempt, and lives by the motto: If it ain't my problem, it ain't my problem.

  Master Hiko – An old Japanese mage and master of battoujutsu. He took Blackwell in after his parent's death and trained him, teaching him control, and giving him the katana that holds back the mayhem magic. He has a long braided beard which he often tucks into his belt.

  Sakura – An old Japanese woman, and ninja. She also helped raised Blackwell after his parent's death, though she refused to train him citing that he was "too full of chaos to ever learn the way of the ninja". She is scary accurate with shuriken, and often appears and disappears with no warning.

  Billy – An employee at Rune Rental in Moira. Billy is in his early twenties, a little bit timid, but loyal to Blackwell. He is always trying to get Blackwell a better car after he inevitably destroys his current ride.

  Professor Gresham – Owner of Gresham Rare Books. He has unruly white hair, bushy eyebrows, and thick glasses. Professor Gresham has known Lexi Swift since she was a child and is very fond of her.