Valkyrie

by Kate O'Hearn

  ‘Are you going to listen to a dumb bird?’ Loki said teasingly. ‘Or do you want my help? I can get you past Heimdall and across Bifröst. You can visit Earth for yourself and see that I am not lying. Then you can return without anyone knowing you were ever gone.’

  Freya looked away from Loki’s inviting eyes. He was a troublemaker, plain and simple. But what if he really did want to help? She had promised Tyrone she would protect his family. It would mean breaking her oath and sneaking across Bifröst. If she were to try, Loki might be the only one who could help.

  ‘Freya, no!’ Orus shouted in her ear. ‘He is trying to lead you astray. Don’t listen – fly away!’

  Finally Freya shook her head. ‘Thank you for the offer, Loki, but I can’t. I took the oath. I am sworn to my duty here.’

  Loki bowed. ‘Of course. But do find me if you ever change your mind. I would hate to see you remain here so sad and lonely. I want only to help you.’

  ‘Thank Odin!’ the raven cawed loudly as they watched Loki walking away. ‘You must stay away from him, Freya. He would lead you into harm and smile as he does it.’

  It was several days before there was another reaping. With so many Valkyries available to go, they took it in turns to reap. Freya remained in Asgard to groom the Reaping Mares and work in the stables. By the time she’d finished, her own mare, Sylt, had a gleaming coat and her wings were perfectly preened.

  When the Valkyries returned, for the first time ever Freya took an interest in the warriors they brought back. She counted the soldiers who arrived and was surprised to see several women among the men. She tracked their movements throughout Asgard and watched all but one pass through the Gates of Ascension. The single remaining warrior joyously joined the others to fight and drink at Valhalla.

  Maya had been right. The soldiers of this age had a different attitude to the warriors of the past. Seeing this difference only added to her sense of confusion. There was only one way to figure it out. Freya had to go to Earth.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘No!’ Orus screamed in her ear. ‘You can’t go.’

  ‘I must,’ Freya said. ‘It’s all I’ve thought about since Tyrone ascended. His family is in danger. He begged me to help them. How can I refuse?’

  ‘Because if Odin finds out, he’ll tear off our wings, rip out your eyes and we’ll be banished!’

  ‘You don’t have to come with me,’ Freya said as she packed up a small bag to take with her. ‘I won’t be gone long. Just enough time to find out how his family are in danger, then I’ll be back. No one will even notice I’ve gone.’

  ‘Freya, listen to me,’ Orus begged. ‘That troublemaker Loki has fed you lies about Earth. It is filled with death, war and hatred. You have seen the battlefields for yourself. They are truly ugly. Stay here. Asgard is beautiful.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Freya agreed as she pulled on her new breastplate, drew the straps under her wings and secured the buckles at her side. Then she attached the jewelled dagger at her waist and put her sword in its scabbard. This she clipped to her hip guard. ‘But I need to see Earth for myself. The real Earth, not just the battlefields.’

  ‘That is all Earth is,’ Orus cried. ‘One big battlefield.’

  ‘Then I will know, and won’t want to return there,’ she said as she placed the gauntlets on her arms.

  The raven shook his head. ‘Remember the story of Frigha. We will be banished.’

  ‘I told you, you don’t have to come,’ Freya said as she reached for her winged helmet.

  ‘I’m not leaving you, Freya. We have been together for too long. Even if it means I will be blinded, de-winged and banished with you.’

  Freya smiled at her raven. ‘Oh, Orus, it won’t be that bad. You’ll see. We’ll be back before we’re missed.’

  They waited until darkness had fallen. Freya glided silently over the small stand of trees and bushes where she had arranged to meet Loki, checking to see if it was some kind of trick. She wasn’t completely fooled by his smooth charms.

  Not far ahead stood Bifröst. The bridge shimmered and glowed in all the glorious colours of the rainbow. Bifröst always looked more magnificent at night as its brilliance reached high into the dark sky. Her mother once told her that on Earth, the glow of the bridge could sometimes be seen at night and was called the Northern Lights.

  When Freya first went to Loki to ask for help getting past Heimdall and across Bifröst, he told her to travel in her helmet and full battle armour. She thought she stood a better chance of getting across the bridge dressed normally or even in a dark cloak, but he insisted that she would need the invisibility her helmet offered and the protection of her armour. Freya began to believe Earth really was one big battlefield if she needed the protection of her armour.

  ‘Can you see anything?’ Freya called to Orus.

  ‘YES!’ the raven cawed. ‘I can see this is a terrible idea. Let’s go back now before it’s too late.’

  ‘You can go home if you want to, Orus, but I’m going to do this. I need to see what Earth is really like and I promised Tyrone. I won’t break my promise.’

  ‘Foolish child,’ Orus said. ‘If you insist on this insane course, I am coming with you. You need me to keep you safe.’

  Freya smiled over at her raven. Despite what her sisters and mother said, Orus was the best companion she could ask for.

  After circling the area, they landed several metres from the place they were to meet Loki. As Orus settled on her shoulder, Freya started to look around. Every nerve in her body was alive, every sound of the night added to the sense of mystery and adventure.

  ‘Loki?’ Freya called softly.

  ‘Hush . . .’ a voice from the bushes scolded. ‘Do you want everyone in Asgard to hear you?’

  Freya thought she had powerful senses. But she and Orus had walked right past Loki’s hiding place with no idea he was there. It was said that stealth was one of his many special talents and it was true. ‘Are you ready to go?’ he asked as he stepped free of the bushes and approached her.

  Freya nodded.

  ‘Your mother and sisters?’

  ‘They’re dancing at Valhalla with the warriors. They won’t be home until late.’

  ‘Good. Now, I have a powerful sleeping powder that will stun Heimdall for no more than a moment. You must use that time to fly past him. Don’t look back and don’t hesitate. Just fly as fast as you can across the bridge.’

  ‘You won’t hurt him?’

  Loki looked shocked. ‘Are you mad? Thor couldn’t hurt that thick-skulled rock with his hammer! Trust me, I have used this powder many times on him to get across Bifröst. He won’t feel a thing and will have no memory of anything. But you must be quick. The effects don’t last long.’

  ‘What do I do?’ Freya asked.

  Orus whispered in her ear, ‘Forget this crazy idea and go home!’

  Swatting the raven, Freya concentrated on Loki. ‘How will I know when to fly?’

  ‘Get into the air, and soar above us. With those black wings of yours, it’s next to impossible to see you in the sky. Watch for my signal. The moment I drop my arm, you soar past Heimdall and straight on to the bridge. Is that clear?’

  Freya nodded as knots tied her stomach. ‘How can I ever thank you?’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Loki said. ‘Just go and find happiness. That’s all that matters.’

  On her shoulder, Orus made a gagging sound. ‘Oh, I think I’m going to be sick!’

  ‘Orus, stop!’ Freya said. She looked sheepishly at Loki. ‘I’m sorry. He thinks this is some kind of trick so you can discredit my mother.’

  Loki looked innocently at the bird. ‘Once again, you wound me. I want only the best for young Freya.’

  Orus cawed in anger. ‘What you want is a higher ranking with Odin by removing her mother from his favour. Freya may be blind to your tricks, Loki, but I am not. You will not succeed. I will protect her.’

  Loki threw up his arms and turned to leave. ‘Fine.
Let’s forget it. Go back to Valhalla and watch the warriors get drunk. I don’t care.’

  ‘Loki, no, please don’t go!’ Freya ran to catch up with him. ‘Orus doesn’t trust you, but I do. Please, help me get across Bifröst. My soldier’s family is in danger. I must help them.’

  Loki paused and turned. ‘I do this for you, Freya, not Orus. If you still wish to go to Earth, I will help you.’ He gave a threatening glare at Orus.

  ‘Yes,’ Freya said. ‘I want to go.’

  ‘All right, I can be generous. Take to the sky and keep your eyes on me. The moment I raise and drop my arm, you fly at Bifröst as fast as your wings will carry you.’

  Freya nodded. Before Orus could say more to endanger her mission, she opened her wings and jumped up into the sky. Gaining height, she soared in a tight circle, never taking her eyes off Loki.

  On the ground, Loki trotted over to the Rainbow Bridge. Heimdall was at his usual position as guard. Freya often wondered what kind of life it was for the poor, lonely Watchman. He rarely slept and never left his post. But, like the others of Asgard, he served only Odin.

  Heimdall’s posture changed when Loki approached. No one in Asgard trusted him and always raised their guard when he was near. In fact, very few people even liked Loki. It was only Odin’s generosity that allowed him to remain.

  From her position in the sky, Freya could see that one of Loki’s hands was behind his back.

  As the Watchman stood before him, Loki brought his hand forward and blew a powder up into his face. Heimdall staggered back and collapsed to the ground. Loki dropped his arm, giving Freya the signal to move.

  ‘This is it, Orus!’ Freya called as she tilted her wings, changed direction and flew with all her might towards the entrance of Bifröst. Freya clutched the raven in her hands as she gained more speed.

  In a flash she was passing over Heimdall and flying into the bright colours of the Rainbow Bridge. She did not slow as she reached the halfway point. Nor did she look back to see if Heimdall had noticed and was chasing after her. All she wanted, all she needed, was to get to Earth.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Bifröst was a living bridge. Anyone who used it to reach Earth knew they could not control where it would send them or where they would arrive. In this case, when Freya flew free of the rainbow colours she discovered that she was soaring high above Europe. Like in Asgard, it was night.

  As part of her training to be a Valkyrie, Freya had studied in detail the geography and history of all the countries of Earth, including their ever-changing borders. She was trained in warfare and knew details of every battle fought since the dawn of time. She herself, while growing up, had attended many of the battlefields to watch the Valkyries work.

  Setting a course, she headed towards the United States. It had been a long time since she had been to this country. Soon they were soaring over a vast ocean.

  ‘Are we there yet?’ Orus panted. ‘My wings are about to fall off.’

  They had been flying all night to reach Chicago. Like Orus, she was growing fatigued. But unlike him, her larger wingspan meant she could fly longer and further without tiring, than he could. She opened her arms. ‘Here, let me carry you for a while.’

  Orus gratefully flew into Freya’s embrace. ‘I wish Bifröst had taken us closer,’ she said. ‘We’ve lost time getting here.’

  ‘Sometimes I think that bridge knows where we want to go and does its best to send us as far away from our destination as possible.’

  Freya hugged the cynical raven. ‘Did anyone ever tell you you have a dark streak?’

  ‘You do,’ Orus said. ‘All the time.’

  They continued in silence and entered daylight. Before long they approached the boundaries of the United States. Freya knew where Illinois was, and even Chicago. But she needed help finding Lincolnwood, the town just outside Chicago where Tyrone Johnson lived.

  Flying high over farmland, the landscape beneath them soon changed. Autumn-coloured fields and trees with their falling leaves of blazing reds and oranges made way for incredibly tall buildings and heavily congested streets as Chicago loomed straight ahead.

  Freya pulled in her wings and landed on one of the tallest buildings. Two white metal antennae rose high above her and the rooftop was cluttered with equipment and strangely shaped structures. But it offered the perfect place to hide while she got her bearings.

  ‘Let’s take a break for a moment while I try to figure out where we’re going.’

  She released Orus and removed her helmet. Instantly, the sights, sounds and colours of Chicago hit her. She looked down at the busy streets teeming with people. Car horns blared, police sirens squealed and all around were the sounds of life. She saw a river cutting its way through the city with many handsome bridges crossing over it.

  The sensations were nothing like she’d ever experienced before. She could sense the people’s laughter, joy, sorrow, fear, hatred and love. Every emotion merged together in a great wave of feelings rising up to her.

  She peered over the side of the rooftop in excitement. ‘Isn’t it amazing? Look at all the people. They aren’t fighting or killing each other! Loki was right, Earth can be beautiful.’

  Orus cawed. ‘You think this is beautiful? It’s filthy. The air is choked with poison and there are too many people. I can’t hear myself think with all this noise. Let’s go back to Asgard before we are missed.’

  ‘You can go back if you want, but I’m not going anywhere. Not until we’ve seen Tyrone’s family.’

  Orus huffed in surrender. ‘How do we find him in all of this? It’s not like you can go down there and ask directions.’

  ‘Tyrone said he lived north of the city in a place called Lincolnwood. Number forty-five, Smith Street. We can fly north and try to find it.’

  ‘That’s your suggestion?’ Orus complained. ‘Just fly north?’

  ‘Do you have a better idea?’

  The raven ruffled his feathers. ‘Well, no, not exactly.’

  Suddenly a door behind her opened and two men emerged on to the roof. Their eyes flew open when they saw her.

  ‘What are you doing up here?’ a tall, dark-skinned man with greying hair demanded as he looked her up and down.

  ‘Yeah, kid,’ said the other. ‘How’d you get up here? The door was locked and the roof is off limits to the public.’ He was pale and much shorter and heavier than the first man. He had a thick beard and shaved head. His bare arms were covered in tattoos.

  ‘I flew here,’ Freya answered.

  ‘Sure you did, kid,’ the tattooed man challenged her. ‘And I’m the Easter Bunny. Now, get off this roof before I throw you off it.’

  Freya was hit with the force of all the terrible things he had dove. Her Valkyrie senses could see beyond his exterior into what lay beneath. This was a dangerous man. In him, Freya recognized all the things she despised about the human race.

  She opened her wings, drew her sword and advanced on him. ‘Are you threatening me?’

  Their mouths dropped. The taller man fell instantly to his knees and lowered his head. ‘Please forgive me,’ he begged. ‘I meant no disrespect.’

  It was the shorter man who she confronted. ‘I do not like people who threaten me. And I especially do not like men who hurt others for their own pleasure. You cannot hide what you are from me, human. I see right into your heart.’

  ‘What are you?’ he demanded.

  ‘Joe, get down on your knees,’ the taller man warned, and made to reach for him. ‘Can’t you see she’s an angel? Show some respect.’

  ‘That thing ain’t no angel,’ Joe insisted. ‘Angels ain’t got black wings and they don’t carry no swords or wear no armour. This is some kind of demon straight from the gates of hell.’ He focused his cruel eyes on Freya. ‘And that’s just where I’m sending it back to.’

  Freya could feel his violent intentions long before he lunged at her.

  ‘I am not a demon!’ she fired as she stepped forward to meet his charg
e.

  She knew she couldn’t touch him with her bare hands. One touch would reap him and risk sending him to Asgard. There could be no explaining that to Odin. Instead she moved quicker than his eye could follow and struck him in the jaw with the pummel of her sword.

  He collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap.

  ‘You,’ she said, pointing her sword at the taller man. ‘Rise. Tell me your name.’

  He gained his feet, standing much taller than her, but kept his eyes cast down to the ground. ‘Curtis,’ he mumbled. ‘Curtis Banks.’

  Freya could feel the fear coming from him. She put her sword back in its sheath. ‘Do not fear me, Curtis Banks; I am not here to hurt you. I need your help.’

  Curtis’s dark eyes rose to hers. ‘How could I possibly help you? I’m just a simple man.’

  ‘A man who knows this area, I hope,’ Freya said.

  ‘I – I’ve lived in Chicago all my life.’ His voice trembled.

  ‘Can you tell me how to find a place called Lincolnwood?’

  ‘Lincolnwood?’ he repeated. ‘That’s not too far from here. No more than ten miles.’ He walked up to the edge of the building and pointed north. ‘It’s in that direction – you can almost see it from here. If you follow the Chicago river down below us, it passes right beside it. There’s a bus you can catch that will take you right there.’

  ‘I will find it, thank you,’ Freya said.

  ‘Who are you?’ Curtis asked timidly. ‘Why do you need to get to Lincolnwood?’

  ‘I cannot tell you who I am,’ Freya answered. ‘Just know that I am here to save a family who are in grave danger. I promised their dead father, a soldier, that I would protect them. They live in Lincolnwood.’

  ‘What kind of danger are they in?’

  ‘I don’t know. All I know is they are in trouble and there is no one to help them now that Tyrone is dead—’

  ‘Freya, stop! Don’t say any more,’ Orus warned her. ‘You are already risking too much speaking with him.’