Every moment he spent in the presence of these creatures of pure light seemed to weaken him. Even Hammer’s glimmering black coat became dull. Both were affected by the Valkyries, but neither made a sound, accepting this temporary fate. I discreetly took Brandon’s hand in mine, startling him. He gave me a curious look that gradually softened as I smiled. “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered. “We’re going to get through this.”
I had no idea what had come over me, but I decided to just ride this wave and see where it might lead. We were out of better options, anyway. Brandon squeezed my hand before he let go, not wanting any of the Valkyries seeing this brief moment of intimacy between us. “You’re irritatingly optimistic,” he replied with a dry chuckle, choosing to look away. If prior to Purgatory he’d been brazen and unabashed in manifesting his attraction toward me, Brandon had performed a 180-degree turn since Edda had taken us prisoner.
This shift did not require an in-depth study, however. It was obvious he was doing it to protect me. We were about to stand trial before Order, purely for having set foot in this place. I dreaded imagining what the penalty was for fraternizing with a being from Purgatory on top of that.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “I could do with a little darkness right about now, but I’ll be fine.”
Ahead, Myst and Thayen were exchanging hushed words. I could barely hear them, but I figured they were talking about Order and the upcoming trials, which we knew nothing about. The Valkyries allowed for discreet conversation but did give the occasional violent glare of death if any of us spoke up. Jericho had been on the receiving end of it a couple of times, and he’d learned to whisper better. He and Dafne were understandably worried, but I had to appreciate their closeness—something had indeed changed between them, and it was nice to see that love could still find a way, even in the midst of this strange and woefully confusing adversity. Maybe everything wasn’t yet lost for me, either. My heart was beating a little bit louder for Brandon. That much was obvious. Now I feared being here might bring an end to this growing dynamic of ours. Brandon’s abrupt coolness—however protective it might be—did nothing to calm those worries.
“Tell me about the trial,” the Time Master said to him. I could almost feel Aphis breathing down my neck, but I didn’t mind. The ghoul was faithful and fierce, protective of those he’d been charged with. I knew he’d stop at nothing to keep us safe, regardless of the cost, though I wasn’t sure how long he’d last in this realm and against these beings of light. “Is trespassing really a crime here?”
“Oh yes. Before I was made, there was a Reaper who kept trying to get in,” Brandon replied. “She caused quite the fuss, according to Baldur. He’s my leader. My ‘father,’ so to speak. He and Edda were around when that happened. Anyway, yeah. Order made it punishable.”
“Punishable how, exactly?” Time asked. “Also, what Reaper are we talking about? I assume you would’ve said if it was the Spirit Bender.”
Brandon shook his head. “He never set foot in this place for more than a brief moment, as far as I know. Otherwise we would’ve been alerted. Hrista was careful, so no. No, another Reaper. Much older. I don’t know who. Hold on…” He shouted at the Valkyrie’s leader. “Hey, Edda! What was the name of that Reaper who kept coming here?”
“You’re brazen as ever,” one of the Valkyries on our right chuckled.
Surprisingly enough, however, Edda answered. “The World Crusher was the name she chose for herself. Death’s first.”
“Wait, but that’s wrong,” Time replied, his frown troubled. “The first Reaper was Unending.”
“Ugh, I see Death still has that obnoxious habit of lying and keeping secrets,” Edda grumbled, shaking her head slowly. I didn’t need to see her face to understand how she felt. Her voice spoke volumes. “Though, to be fair, I’m not surprised she wanted to keep the World Crusher’s existence quiet. That girl had lost some marbles along the way.”
The Time Master tried to get out of the formation so he could be closer to Edda, but a couple of crossed spears came up to stop him. He cursed under his breath, then offered a polite nod and stayed behind Brandon and me. “Damn it, Edda, this doesn’t make sense. The Unending was Death’s first. How could my maker have withheld the existence of another Reaper this whole time?”
“I don’t know. The affairs of her realm don’t really interest me. It’s something you should discuss with her,” Edda replied. “But just so we’re clear, that World girl? Crazy evil. She was so desperate to get into Purgatory and into the beyond that she started killing people just so she could reap them and cross the threshold with them. If you’ve never heard of her, I’m guessing it means Death destroyed her or put her away. And you’re better off, believe me.”
“Yeah, it absolutely sounds like you haven’t missed out on much,” Brandon muttered. “Whew, talk about villainous temperaments. Oh, this reminds me. Edda!” he shouted, but only to startle her and the other Valkyries. He seemed to enjoy tormenting them in one way or another. They were like children, I realized. The Berserkers and the Valkyries were doomed to a timeless eternity together. They didn’t die, and they could only hurt one another for so long. This was just part of their banter. “Hrista is making trouble in the realm of the living. She tossed the people out of the earthly Shade and shoved them inside another dimension. Then she filled said earthly Shade with clones of her own making.”
It was an efficient summary, and it earned him a brief over-the-shoulder glance from Edda. “You’ll address this with Order during your trial.”
“Is that all you have to say to us?” Myst sighed, visibly disappointed. “Is it so easy to just turn against us and treat us like criminals, even though this whole time the purpose of everything we’ve done has been to come home and warn you and Order about Hrista?”
“Like I said, tell this to—”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before,” Brandon retorted, then gave me a tired look. “See? This I didn’t really miss. Sure, it’s nice to lose track of time, literally speaking, and it’s good to be back in the cradle of my true spiritual power, even if these light ladies are slowing me down a little right now, but everything else… and the way issues like this are handled? Nah. Did not miss this level of disdain and incompetence one bit.”
Edda raised her trident. “Watch your mouth, Berserker.”
“I speak the truth. And I think Myst finally agrees with me,” Brandon replied, fearless in his discourse. He looked at me again. “Yes, Purgatory is incredible. Look around!” I did. Between the rolling hills, orchards with white wood and golden canopies grew tall and rich. Strangely shaped fruits that seemed to have been carved out of marble blocks hung heavily, almost touching the ground. Beyond, blue and white mountains rose and pierced the diamond sky, forests of gold trickling down the zigzagging ridges. A river flowed nearby, its sweet whispers reaching my ears every now and then. Ahead, the White Hall of Truth got bigger and bigger—a massive, marble tower that awaited us quietly. “Look around. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? ‘Strange.’ ‘Peculiar.’ I’ve heard those terms before today. For us, it’s normal. Pretty, but normal. After having spent some time in the fake and in the real island, I guess I’ve got something to compare this to. So, see this incredible place, right?”
I nodded once. Brandon was talking loud enough for Edda to hear him. He was doing this on purpose—he had something important to say. Something he hadn’t had the chance to say yet.
“It’s the realm where souls come to be judged. Order, the almighty Order: she listens, and she passes the sentences. Justly, one might say. Always justly. But don’t you dare do something you’re not supposed to! Don’t you dare question her authority! Don’t even think about stepping outside the square she might have drawn for you. One slip-up, one innocent mistake, and you’ll become the villain, the worthless soul in need of punishment.”
“That’s enough!” Edda snapped, but Brandon wasn’t having any of it.
>
“No, but it’s true. It’s what we do here, isn’t it?” he shot back. “We obey. Blindly. We do our job. And we never ever ask questions or oppose any decision that might be practically insane. Because that is what is happening here. Myst and I aren’t criminals. We left Purgatory because we had to. Because we were compelled by our moral compass to do the right thing. Yet here we are, about to be punished for it.”
“Brandon, perhaps you should tone it down a bit,” Myst warned him.
“Let’s just get to the trial,” I said, in a bid to do the same.
But Brandon was too angry. “It’s rigged, anyway. That’s the thing. I’m a Berserker. Order will never look upon me with kindness. Maybe you, dear Myst, will have it better. But me… we both know I’m done for.”
Edda reached him in the blink of an eye and positioned the middle tip of her trident up under his chin. He stilled, hands slowly raised to his sides. Hammer’s first response was to snap his fangs at her, but I touched the back of his head, and he held back. I wasn’t sure why I had such an influence on the Aesir. I’d only followed my instincts, but it worked. We’d figure out why later.
“I don’t care how angry you are,” Edda said. Our convoy had stopped moving altogether. Even the Valkyries were watching with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. “I don’t care what reasons you had. I don’t even care what happens to you, Berserker. All I know is that your kind were the first to go missing, and that somehow Regine and Myst got dragged into it. I blame you for anything that might come to pass because you are creatures of darkness and violence. Without Order’s leadership, you are mindless beasts. Now shut up and keep walking. We are about to enter the White Hall of Truth. It demands your reverence.”
Brandon looked like he wanted to say something more, but Edda’s words had cut deep, and he refused to give her the satisfaction of any additional reaction from him. The Valkyries’ leader resumed her spot at the head of the convoy, setting the pace for the rest of our journey. Only a hundred yards were left between us and the giant white tower.
From here, we could see the souls lining up to go in through four different sets of double doors. There were hundreds of spirits in four queues, each measuring about fifty yards in length. The lines didn’t seem to be getting shorter, either. If one soul went in, another materialized at the end of the queue. “Whoa,” I whispered, astonished by the view before us.
“Yeah, don’t hold your breath,” Brandon replied, his voice trembling slightly. “We’ll be joining them before long.”
There was ancient history between him and the Valkyries. Things that had happened. Things left untold. And Order could tell the tale—if only I could get to her in a setting that didn’t involve a criminal trial. Alas, a criminal trial was exactly what we were getting. Maybe Order would straighten things out once we got in front of her and told her everything that had happened. It seemed like a reasonable outcome. But would she be reasonable?
Brandon’s anger didn’t seem misplaced, however. He was speaking from experience, and the fact that Myst didn’t contradict him made me think he was telling the truth. I’d worried earlier about what Order’s faults might be. Death’s imperfections and the Word’s lack of presence had taught me that not all forces of the universe were flawless.
I had a feeling we were about to find out.
Thayen
I found it difficult to look away from the queues. The closer we got to joining them, the more hypnotic the view became. The only other thing that drew my focus was the fear so deeply imprinted on Myst’s face. Edda and the other Valkyries stayed close, making sure none of us even thought about leaving. One by one, the spirits were being led through enormous, lavish archways and into the great White Hall of Judgment. The façade was polished to an almost metallic sheen. It sparkled beneath the diamond sky, making me squint so as not to go blind. The copper grass crunched with every step that we took—a sound I hadn’t noticed before, and the only sound louder than my own beating heart.
“It’s the anticipation that really messes with your head,” Brandon muttered from behind me. I stole frequent glances at him, if only to reassure myself that my friends were still here, and that I hadn’t gotten lost in Purgatory’s judicial entrails on my own. Hammer was restless beside him, but the dire wolf didn’t dare leave the line. Not when there were two steel and gold spears pointed at his throat. “That’s the whole point of judgment. You’ve got time to stew and really think about your life and your deeds before you see Order.”
“This is where the fate of people is determined?” I asked.
Myst shook her head. “This is where people determine their own fate. That’s the thing with Purgatory—it is pure and untainted by any moral concepts of the living world. Here, you feel like you’re supposed to feel. If you’ve done wrong, regardless of the reason, you feel guilty. If you’ve done good, you feel light as a feather. Order simply takes all that and analyzes your spirit. What comes afterward is not for us to tell.”
“But I can guess, considering she has Valkyries and Berserkers to usher the spirits into the next realm,” I said.
It was still hard to wrap my head around this, but I’d gotten some training with the Reapers and their dimension. We of the living had spirits bound in physical bodies. We abided by certain laws of physics and magic. The Reapers, the Valkyries, and the Berserkers were spirits with the ability to manifest physical forms, which were in many senses similar to bodies but didn’t function in the same fashion. They did not require food nor sleep, but they experienced pain and even felt love, in their own way. So far, these were the only differences I’d been able to process without much effort. Everything else required additional thinking, and that was low on my priority list as I watched the white tower swallow a few more people from the line.
“Either way, you’d better brace yourself,” Brandon sighed. “Order will peer right into your soul and see things you do not wish to remember.”
“I’m not sure how judgment works on someone like me or Astra. Or Jericho or Dafne, for that matter,” I said. “We’re of the living. We’re not just spirits.”
“On top of that, we didn’t really do anything wrong,” Jericho interjected, his brow still worriedly furrowed. “We didn’t plan on showing up here.”
“We’ll see how Order sees it,” Brandon replied. “She can be iffy at times.”
I’d heard the same about Death. “Watch your tongue, Berserker!” Edda snapped. “This is your maker you’re talking about. Your fate is in her hands. Choose your words wisely.”
“You don’t scare me. Baldur doesn’t scare me. Order doesn’t scare me,” Brandon shot back, unwilling to yield before the so-called Mother of Valkyries. “I’ve had enough of you all, so if you decide I’m no longer needed, so be it. I’ve done my duty. I’ve done my best to withstand the adversities thrown at me, to protect my Aesir, and to respect the laws of Purgatory. It’s not my fault that Hrista up and left and screwed so many of us over!”
“Perhaps we should try not to argue with the powers that be anymore,” Astra suggested. Much like me, she was preoccupied. Terrified would’ve been too strong a word, but it was still in the ballpark. This was new to us, and definitely strange. We didn’t belong here. The judgment… it was too early for us to go through it. None of this made much sense, yet we had no choice but to move forward. “We should focus on the arguments we’re about to make, instead.”
“What arguments, Pinkie? Do you really think there’s a fair trial coming?” Brandon scoffed, crossing his arms. Being out in the open like this made him weak. There was too much light, the wisps of darkness flying off him too fast, as if wasted by the brightness. “Our arrest makes no sense. The trial won’t either. Hrista left, and someone must be held accountable, so Purgatory is looking to blame the suckers who accidentally came back.”
There was anger bubbling beneath the surface, a clear indicator of the history between Brandon and this place. He didn’t seem eager to share any of it, but his conclu
sions were heartfelt, and not the result of a momentary lapse in judgment or rushed, shoddy theories. He’d lived through things in this place, things that crippled his trust in the system, and I couldn’t help but wonder how that might play out for the rest of us.
I’d hoped our flesh would be key, but I was beginning to doubt such hopes as we approached the doorway. The tension made the air thicker, and every breath that I took filled my lungs and dropped lead weights in my knees. Each step felt laborious, and my thoughts scattered, preventing me from forming strings of coherent sentences.
“Order is fair,” Myst told me. “Brandon may have strong feelings about both her and Purgatory, but they are based only on his personal experiences.”
“Absolutely, they are. Go on, tell him I’m wrong, and it’s just my perception,” Brandon growled, unwilling to back down. He calmed almost instantly when Astra took his hand in hers and squeezed gently, whispering something in his ear that smoothed out every crease on his forehead. I welcomed the effect she had on him. Brandon was our friend and ally, and I didn’t like seeing him so anxious and displeased with the realm that was supposed to be our salvation.
“Let us speak to Order, per the regulations,” Myst said, giving him a faint smile. There was sympathy in her voice. She knew more about him and his plight than any of us, so her patience made sense. “Each of us will go before her, and we’ll have our chance to say everything she needs to hear. Everything about Hrista, about what she’s done to the realm of the living, all of it. We shall see then if a standard trial is what we will receive.”
She seemed to doubt her own words, however. A subtle wavering of her voice gave it away. I doubted Brandon or the others noticed. She had Edda’s full attention, though not for the doubt but for the content of her statement. “Tell Order every single detail. I will be listening.”
I understood her position now. This was out of her hands. Even as ruler over the Valkyries, Edda reported back to Order. We were here because Order had demanded it. There was no question about this anymore. We were but pawns on a massive gameboard, and Order was playing with us—and, hopefully, not against us.
A Shade of Vampire 91: A Gate of Light Page 15