by Katrina Cope
My arm tingles, and I try to shake it out. The tingling is frustrating, always doing this at the most inconvenient times. Despite the burning urge to rub away the tingling, I can’t spare the hand holding the sword. I just have to let the sensation run its course.
A gust of wind blows the dark strands of hair over my face, and I hook it back behind my ear. In the excitement to leave the room, I forgot to tie it out of the way. I curse my absentmindedness. There is nothing worse than fighting with hair obscuring the view.
I shake my head. I can’t believe I just thought that. The last thing I need to do is think about hair when I’m about to go into battle. Way to go, Valkyrie! You’re showing the true signs of a warrior, I chastise myself sardonically.
My attention careens to Eir. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail that falls down her back. Beads of sweat pearl on her face, and it glistens in the early-morning sun.
“You’ll do good, Eir.” I try to offer words of encouragement.
She nods in a jerky, unsure movement as her eyes remain focused on the three approaching Valkyries. Mist stands directly opposite her. This is a stroke of luck. I think they will be a better match. Mist is usually too worried about her looks to focus on fighting properly.
In the middle, directly opposite me, is Rota. Her face is paler than usual, giving her the appearance of a porcelain doll. The crisp morning air brings a slight rose to her cheeks, making her look healthier than she did the night before. Her eyes hold a subtle wariness as she moves closer to me. I find this strange. She seriously can’t be regarding me as though I hit her with magic yesterday. No Valkyrie has magic.
My arm tingles again, and I try to shake it out. Rota’s eyes flick to my arm and widen with fear. I shake my head, trying to clear my vision. I can’t be seeing what I think I am. Rota is a fantastic fighter and a formidable opponent. If I beat her, I would be doing well. Fear churns in my stomach, and I pull extra motivation from the reminder of the prize. If we win today, Mistress Sigrun will have to let the three of us go to the fields in Midgard when they are reaping souls. I’m going to hold her to that. After all, she said it in front of the whole academy.
On my side, Prima is eyeing Hildr. These two are a good match. Hildr is a strong fighter, but Prima has had more training. Usually, what Hildr lacks in skills, she makes up for in determination. Hopefully, today will prove to be the same.
A soft whistle pierces the air, and it pulls my attention back to the fight. I turn just in time to see an arrow heading in Eir’s direction. She swings her sword while dodging to the side and cuts the shaft in half. It falls to the ground, broken in two. She spins back to the three approaching, and her eyes land on Mist, who has another arrow nocked in her bow, taut and ready to be shot toward Eir. Mist doesn’t even wait until we approach and reach each other before starting to fight. I find this rather unbecoming and rude. But then, Mistress Sigrun did say that there are no rules in this fight.
Another arrow flies Eir’s way. Without a moment’s hesitation, she darts to the side and swings the sword, timing the slice perfectly to slash it in half. Mist reaches her arm over her head and pulls another arrow from her quiver. She starts to nock it in her bow, aiming directly at Eir. Quickly, I search the ground and find the perfect-sized stone, and I scoop it up while unhitching my sling at the same time. I slide the stone in the rough material and fling it around my head. I let the rock fly, hitting Mist on the head. Her hand shoots to her head as she cries out in pain and drops her bow and arrow. Her eyes narrow when they land on me and spot the sling in my hand.
Technically, she’s not my opponent at the moment, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. She’s not playing fair. She rubs her head and shakes it. When she pulls her hand away, there’s a nasty welt not far from her temple. My heart dances between beats. My aim has improved during my last couple of years at the academy. I chuckle inwardly. Mist won’t be happy that there is a mark on her beautiful face. She will scowl every time she looks in the mirror until that bruise heals.
Mist pulls her sword out of its sheath, charging toward me. Eir darts in front of me and blocks her path, clashing her sword against Mist’s. That was a gutsy and aggressive move for Eir, and my heart swells with pride that she would do that to stop Mist from attacking me. She may be a peacekeeper, but she is loyal to the end. That is one of the things that attracted me to be her friend—plus the fact that she puts up with me.
After seeing Eir dart in and start a sword fight before any of us, Hildr charges forward, aiming straight for Prima and stopping her from helping Mist against Eir. Clanging metal rings out as swords clash as the receiving Valkyries block each attack. Several blows are delivered at the other, slicing and chopping, trying to be the first one to succeed with a hit. Hildr swings her sword, knocking Prima’s aside. She retreats in time to swing it in a different direction for another attack. Prima pulls her stomach in, and the sword skims lightly across her torso, the tip slicing open her white T-shirt. I hold back a cry of delight. Hildr was so close to connecting. As intrigued as I am by Hildr’s fighting skills, I must pull my focus away and concentrate on my own opponent.
My eyes connect with Rota’s, and that strange tingling runs down my arm again, reminding me what happened yesterday. This incident is frustrating me. Despite being impossible, it’s like my brain refuses to believe that Rota’s collapse was just a coincidence. It wants to think that something did charge out of my hand. After all, I did feel a funny tingling sensation charge down my arm right as it happened yesterday. Didn’t I?
I shake my head and flail my arm, hooking my sling back onto my pants and grasping the hilt of my sword firmly. Slowly, I maneuver forward, each step sliding and cautious. Rota watches me intensely, her eyes flashing down to my shaking arm, and her eyes widen. Perhaps it is something the old lady did when she spoke to her yesterday. Maybe it was the old lady’s actions that made Rota believe something happened to my arm. It was a strange coincidence. It has me baffled, but I have to push this aside for now.
Rota pulls her eyes away from my arm and focuses on my face. From training, I know that she is also skimming my posture with her peripheral vision, watching for my first move. Concentrating on my eyes is also the perfect way for her to steel her emotions and make herself focus, ready for the fight. Her training and practice are starting to manifest. Her other hand creeps up to the hilt of the sword, and she embraces it with two hands. Her eyes are flat and determined—all emotions cleared from her focus.
Oh, Vanir! It is about to start. She is definitely ready to attack. I try to mimic what she is doing. It’s difficult. I am not a seasoned warrior. Even though I’ve had several training sessions, it is nothing compared to what Rota has done, including practice on the fields. Nothing teaches more than a life-and-death fight. Rota and the winged Valkyries have had much practice against the angels of death and any other creatures that decide to attack them while they are out in the fields.
The sound of metal clanging against metal rings out on both sides of me. It takes all my strength to ignore the urge to see if Hildr and Eir are okay. I must focus completely on Rota. I blink, only to open my eyes and see Rota swinging her sword directly at me.
Chapter Eight
My vision tunnels, and the high-pitched sound of clanging swords pierces my eardrums. I move just in time to block Rota’s sword from slicing me. My heart thumps rapidly. She pulls back and swings again, the sword careening down, aiming for my head. Thankfully, my training kicks in, and I swing my sword, blocking it just in time. I have to pull my thoughts together. Britta’s words enter my thoughts. I blink and notice Rota’s underarms are wide open as our swords are locked.
I twist and land a side kick to her ribs. She lurches forward with a groan, pulling her sword down and narrowly missing my leg. As she pulls herself together, her thoughts play out on her face. Then she lunges forward, swiping at me with her sword. I block it, and she retreats then instantly attacks from the other side. I twist and block it with my sword
again. These maneuvers repeat as if we are playing a fencing game, swords clashing every time and no one getting through. Weariness swamps my muscles, and my arms ache, making each block or strike a more difficult feat. She pulls her sword away after another of our clashes and swings it horizontally in my direction. My exhausted muscles react too slowly, and the sword slides past my defense. The pain soars through my body, screaming from my torso where the blade connected. My eyes widen, but my vision narrows into a tighter tunnel. Clenching my teeth together, I do my best to pull it together and ignore the pain. I can’t let this get to me. Otherwise, it’ll distract me from my fight, and things will get worse.
Fear surges through me as I worry about the depth of the injury and the pain it causes me. I grit my teeth and push it aside. Gripping my sword, I swing again. She blocks it, and I spin quickly, striking up from the other direction, knocking her sword aside and nicking up her arm. The sleeve of her tan leather jacket splits open. Her crimson blood runs down her sleeve and stains her medium-blue leather pants. She stumbles back, glancing at her arm, and the icy confidence in her eyes wavers when she looks back at me.
Darting forward, I slice again, but her sword blocks my strike just in time before she stumbles backward a few steps. Seeing her hesitation fuels me forward. I lurch, chopping the sword down at her, and she darts out of the way.
Clanking rings out on either side of me, like music to my ears. Both Eir and Hildr are still fighting, although I am not game to see if they are injured.
The Valkyries around the edge start clapping and cheering, calling out the names of the winged Valkyries. They continue framing our circle, flapping in unison like a grand parade. I wonder how such beautiful creatures can be so mean, then I remind myself that Valkyries are bred to be ruthless and aggressive. We are meant to be warriors first, trained to choose who should live for Valhalla and who should die. Sympathy will only muddy the decision. That is the training of a winged Valkyrie, anyway, and this is what we have to contend with.
Hearing the Valkyries cheer on the winged Valkyries spurs my determination. I slash and swing with so much ferocity and force that Rota backs away. Before I realize, I have pressed her to the other side of the plain. A gasp travels from the bottom of the mountain. I can’t imagine it being possible because it is so far below—unless the wind is carrying the voice. But there is no way that they could know what is happening up here. They can’t see what is going on. But one thing is for sure—hearing the wingless Valkyries is inspirational enough. They are waiting for us to win so that they, too, may prove that we are worth more than they give us credit for.
I dart forward with my sword tip pointing at Rota, and she backs off. Then her feet slip. She uncoils her wings and flaps, stopping herself from falling—exercising the unfair advantage that we do not have. She hovers in the air for a moment then dives down toward me. I strike out again. She swerves at the last second, narrowly missing the edge of my sword.
Eir gasps to my right, and I want to see what is happening, but it is too risky to check. I hope she’s okay. Rota swoops down, and I spin out of the way, swiping my sword at her. I feel it connect with her skin and drag down her side. Her cry of pain reaches my ears. Her first injury is already mostly healed, just like mine. Healing is the gift of being a Valkyrie, especially for simple wounds like sword wounds.
With blood tarnishing her torso, she dives at me again, and I spin, managing to dodge the strike and catch sight of Hildr. From my glance, I think she is okay. I spin farther, catching sight of Eir to see her balancing just on the edge of the cliff face. Mist has backed her into a corner, attacking her from flying positions just as Rota has attacked me. Eir swings her sword, managing to scratch Mist along her face. Mist’s eyes cloud over with anger. Again, she has been injured where it can wound her vanity.
Instantly, her posture changes, overtaken by aggression. She spins around, flicking her wings forcefully before she charges at Eir, spooking her backward. Eir’s heel clips a boulder, and she stumbles over the edge of the cliff. A scream crescendos as Eir struggles to find something to grasp. But there is nothing. Her body falls over the edge, and her hands fail to find purchase. Her loud scream pierces the valley, echoing up to the mountaintop.
I scream, “Nooo!”
At the same time, Rota has another go at me. I spot her coming and feel the anger welling up inside. I let the emotion soar through me, pouring into every part of my body. It sparks the tingling down my left arm. The sensation grows stronger each second, making my arm feel as though it is about to explode. Raising my left arm, I hold my hand out to fend off Rota, and it connects with her body as she collides with me. I deflect her sword with mine, and an explosion shoots through my left palm and into her body. Rota’s body is flung back, and I watch in amazement and horror as her eyes turn lifeless. She crashes to the ground, her wings crumpling beneath her.
My mouth drops open, and I look at my left hand. Confusion roars through my head as I try to figure out what is going on. I wish I could talk to someone about this. I wish someone could tell me what is going on. The shock consumes me, and I look blankly down at Rota’s body on the ground. I don’t want to become a killer, but I don’t know if I have already crossed that line. I’m not sure what this hand is doing. This time there was a definite surge of power. I throw my hands on my head. Emotion overcomes me. Eir has just fallen to her death, and I may have just become a killer.
A thud sounds beside me, followed by another thud. The fog clouding my mind refuses to clear. Another thud hits the ground not far away, then several more. Removing my hands from my head, I manage to clear enough of the emotional fog to look around. My jaw drops, and my eyes widen. Arrows are embedded deep in the ground surrounding me and have somehow narrowly missed me. Other arrows lie uselessly on their sides. I spin, searching for the culprit. Catching sight of another flying arrow, I am appalled but not completely shocked when I see the flying arrow coming directly from the Valkyrie circle above the plain. Every second Valkyrie has an arrow pointed directly at me, nocked and ready to be set free. More arrows hit the ground around me, and I’m completely encircled with embedded arrows.
A scream disrupts my shock, and I gaze over to see an arrow implanted in Hildr’s shoulder. She stumbles backward, nearing the edge of the cliff. I cry out and run toward her, hoping to catch her before she topples over the side, but I’m too far away. Hildr doesn’t seem to notice me, and her feet continue their dangerous retreat. I dig in my toes and sprint, ignoring the arrows slamming into the ground around me.
I don’t understand how I haven’t been hit. Perhaps I am moving too fast. I can hear footsteps behind me, but all my energy is focused on rescuing Hildr. She is reaching the edge way too fast. A fresh round of arrows surround Hildr, and she stumbles.
I cry out—tears already filling my eyes, making it hard to see. “Nooo!”
I can’t lose another friend. My hands reach out, trying to grasp her… but I fear it is too late.
Chapter Nine
My feet won’t stop as I continue dashing forward, trying to grasp Hildr. I’m too late. She’s already over the edge before I get there. Eventually, somehow, I manage to tell my feet to stop only a few feet away from the edge, before I tumble down after her. Despair hits me as I realize I have arrived just in time to see her topple out of my sight. Her freckled face is white, and her green eyes are wide with horror. My heart breaks. I can’t do anything. I can’t fly. I can’t run down and save her.
We are surrounded by Valkyries that fly, but not one of them dives down to grab her. Not one of them grabbed Eir, either. Eir’s as well as Hildr’s deaths are too much to bear. Tears blur my vision, and my shoulders slump. I am crushed. There is no will to go on.
Britta’s and Elan’s faces fill my thoughts, giving me the will to continue, just as I hear the sound of a sword being drawn. It slices the air, and I spin around, my automatic defenses kicking in. I block Prima’s attack with the clash of our swords. With my right hand busy wit
h the sword, I spin around backward and land my left palm straight on her stomach. A burst shoots out of my palm straight into her torso, just as it did to Rota. All the pent-up aggression and emotion rebounds from the top of my arm and out my hand. Barely seeing through my tear-filled eyes, I watch Prima’s eyes widen then drain of life. She crumples to the ground, her head slamming against a rock, and her wings fall over the top of her as she lands face first. Arrows thud into the ground around me, surrounding me again, yet not one hits me. I can’t for the life of me understand why. These are expert marksmen.
With the shock of recent events catching up to me, I blink a few times and look around. The arrows are definitely flying down. A large double-edged circle of arrow shafts sticking out of the ground surrounds me. I blink a few more times, thinking that this may register where I have been hit—for surely I have been hit by now, but I’m just too numb to realize it. Except I don’t feel any pain. Several more arrows are locked in position, ready to be set loose in my direction.
A cloud pulls out from in front of the sun, releasing its light and bathing the ground. Yet a shadow surrounds me. I frown and look up. Nothing is above me.
A movement catches my eye in my peripheral vision. Mist is approaching quickly, another arrow nocked. As I watch her, I am almost ready to give up. Everything I have worked for has failed. All my efforts to prove wingless Valkyries are worth as much as winged are futile. To make things worse, my best friends in the entire academy have just fallen off the edge to their deaths. This is not a fair fight. It was supposed to be three against three, not thirty against three.
I blink the tears from my eyes again, letting the warmth run freely down my face, and look at all the faces of the winged Valkyries hovering above me with their arrows nocked. My eyes land on Mistress Sigrun. She doesn’t have a bow in her hand. This is surprising, but on her face is a large smirk of victory. She lifts her chin and looks down her nose at me. The arrows continue to fall, and I still don’t understand why they are missing me. I spread my arms and gaze up at the sun. It is uncovered by the cloud, and still, a strange shadow covers the top of me.
