War of the Realms

by Kate O'Hearn

  She passed in and out of sleep as her body slowly healed, with the pain from her back and ribs a constant reminder of her loss.

  Lying on her side, she tried her best not to reveal the emotions raging through her. Dirian’s latest torment had been the most effective yet. His words cut more than anything he could have done with a sword.

  The rebel Dark Searcher had taken great pleasure in informing her that his giants had broken through Asgard’s outer wall and were now marching on Valhalla. He was preparing to leave the keep and join his generals there to capture the throne.

  “This won’t take long.” Dirian leaned in close to her and rasped, “When I return, I will bring a special gift, just for you. . . .” He rose and headed for the door but paused before passing through to look back at her. “I will bring you Odin’s head.”

  When he was gone, Freya lay her head down. Part of her wished Dirian had killed her, so she wouldn’t have to witness Odin’s defeat and the destruction of her home.

  “Do not cry, Freya.” From across the War Room, Skuld’s voice was like a soothing lullaby in the long, terrifying night. “Things seem their darkest now, but the future is in flux. Nothing is set. Many things can happen, and fortunes can still change.”

  Freya raised her head and sniffed. “How? Dirian will march on Asgard with the giants. He’ll kill Odin. How can the future be anything but awful?”

  Skuld leaned back against the wall. “Because nothing is ever as it appears. Just as you are not as you appear—”

  The arrival of a Dark Elf guard interrupted her midflow, and the change in the Norn was instant.

  “Release me, you wretched creature!” Skuld screeched. “Never in my life have I been treated so disrespectfully. If you do not free me this instant, I swear I will erase you from existence!”

  Freya watched in stunned silence. This was the first time she had heard Skuld raise her voice, and the Norn sounded a lot older than she looked. Every word dripped with threat. Freya’s senses told her that the young Norn meant everything she said.

  “Erase me from existence?” the elf repeated. “Those are powerful words from a child, especially one chained to a wall. Tell me, Skuld, how do you hope to achieve my demise?”

  “I have my ways. Do not doubt . . .”

  As they argued, Orus flew silently into the War Room. He landed unseen behind Freya and was hidden from view by her body. “Orus!” Freya was so relieved to see her friend. “What’s happening—do you know what they did to Archie?”

  “Don’t worry—Archie has not been harmed. He remains here in the keep, but Dirian and his generals are on the move—they’re heading to Asgard!”

  Freya nodded. “It’s awful,” she whispered. “The giants have breached the boundaries of Asgard and are pouring in. Soon Odin will fall. . . .”

  “Don’t give up yet,” Orus cawed softly. “He won’t be easy to beat.”

  Freya was about to speak when her wounded senses picked up on something she’d never thought she’d feel again. She inhaled sharply. Maya and Kai! They were in the keep—deep down somewhere below her. And then she felt the presence of Quinn and Skye.

  “You!” the Dark Elf called, hearing Freya’s gasp. She stepped away from Skuld and walked closer to Freya. “What are you up to over there?”

  “Careful,” Orus whispered. “Don’t let her know I’m here.”

  “If you must know,” Freya shouted, wincing at the pain it caused her, “I’m in agony. What do you expect—me to sing with joy? Every time I breathe, it is like Dirian’s blade cutting through me again.” She knew that would please the evil elf, and her senses told her it had. “I need something for the pain.”

  “The Valkyrie is in pain? Good!” the Dark Elf cried with glee. “You deserve it, and much more. Why the master spares your life is a mystery to me. But I am sure he has more plans to make you suffer.”

  Freya’s lips went tight. “You’re the one that’s going to suffer. . . .”

  The Dark Elf laughed as she made her way to her seat—a posting where she could keep an eye on both Freya and Skuld.

  Freya became silent and unmoving as the Dark Elf’s beady eyes kept their watch on her. She kept her emotions well hidden while she inwardly celebrated. Across the room, Skuld gasped and started to smile. She too must have seen the arrival of the rescue team.

  “What is it, Norn?” the Dark Elf demanded suspiciously. “What have you seen?”

  “Leave her alone!” Freya shouted, forcing herself up into a sitting position. She was still weak and dizzy from her wounds, but feeling her family close was giving her strength to keep fighting.

  “What is this?” the Dark Elf shrieked. “Is the Valkyrie giving me orders?” She ran across the room and tried to kick Freya, but despite her wounds, Freya’s reactions were faster. She caught hold of the Dark Elf’s foot and twisted it back so quickly, she felt the delicate bones snap.

  The elf cried out in pain and fell to the floor. Freya kept hold of her foot and pulled her close, quickly finishing her off.

  “That’s for threatening to eat Orus!” Freya spat. “I hope your head really hurts when you rise again.”

  “She won’t rise again,” Skuld said darkly.

  Across from her, the Norn bit the end of her finger and was writing the Dark Elf’s name on the stone floor in her blood. She swept her finger through the name, as though to wipe it out. “There, you horrible creature. You deserved that!”

  Freya stared in stunned silence at the small Norn. The youthful expression had vanished from her face to reveal a powerful, ancient being with more than a trace of malice. Just as quickly, this disappeared and Skuld sat back, looking as innocent as ever.

  Moments later an alarm bell started to chime from far above. Shouts filled the corridors of the keep. Stomping feet could be heard just outside the War Room.

  Freya felt her sister somewhere beneath them; she was with Vanir-Freyja. She could feel Maya’s excitement—this was a good sign. Suddenly there was hope that not all was lost.

  “Freya,” Orus cawed, drawing her attention back. “Check the elf’s pockets. Does she have the keys to your collar?”

  “Don’t,” Skuld called quickly. “We only have a moment before the others discover what’s happened in here. When I told you the future was in flux, I meant it. I have just seen something and must share it with you. You are no ordinary Valkyrie. You have power way beyond your knowledge, but you don’t know how to use it. You must learn as quickly as possible—the future depends on you.”

  “I don’t understand. What power?” Freya cried. “What are you talking about?”

  “The power of the Vanir.”

  30

  MAYA AND SKYE CHARGED THROUGH the narrow corridor deep in the bowels of the keep. Clutching Vanir-Freyja protectively, Maya navigated her way back to the tunnel entrance.

  Just as they passed through the doors, Maya felt an unwelcome presence. “Searchers are coming,” she cried. “Skye, seal the doors!”

  Skye nodded and waved her hand. The thick stone doors started to swing shut just as the Dark Searchers arrived and began to pound and push against them.

  “Seal them!”

  “I’m trying!” Skye cried as her hands moved quickly through the air to cast the locking spell. “But the Dark Elves are using their own magic to force them open. They’re too strong for me—the doors won’t hold!”

  Maya shifted Vanir-Freyja to one arm and pulled out her sword. Just as the heavy stone doors started to give, a hand shot out from under the shroud and grasped Skye’s arm.

  “Calm yourself, child. Focus your powers and let me help you . . . ,” a soft voice said.

  Skye inhaled sharply and recast her spell on the door. The heavy stone doors slammed shut.

  As Maya started to put Vanir-Freyja down, the ancient Vanir’s soft voice spoke again from beneath the shroud. “No, Maya, take me away from here, please. . . .”

  How did Vanir-Freyja know her name? “Of course,” Maya said
respectfully. “Anything you say.” She settled Vanir-Freyja in her arms again and spread her wings wide. She looked back at Skye. “I hope you can keep up with me.”

  “I’m right behind you,” Skye said, casting her magic to lift off the ground.

  Maya flapped her large white wings and took off through the deep tunnel running beneath the burning sands of the desert. She flew harder and faster than she’d ever flown in her life. Before long the tunnel ascended, and Skye lifted them through the hidden entrance in the hovel. When they were safe, Maya kicked the trapdoor shut. She looked around the small room for somewhere to lay her charge.

  As if in answer to her thoughts, Skye waved her hand, and a narrow, soft bed appeared.

  Maya lay Vanir-Freyja down gently. She reached for the shroud and pulled it away. Maya gazed down into the face that had the power to start wars. She was too stunned to speak.

  Beside her, Skye was doing the same. Her mouth was hanging open as her eyes passed from Vanir-Freyja to Maya and then back to Vanir-Freyja again.

  “Maya, she looks just like you!”

  Vanir-Freyja’s ice-blue eyes fluttered open. When she saw Maya, she smiled gently. “No, Skye. My great-great-granddaughter looks just like me. . . .”

  Maya fell backward and landed awkwardly on her wings as Vanir-Freyja sat up. Maya’s mirror image fluttered open her white wings and reached out to Maya. “Come, my child. Take my hand.”

  Struck silent by the sight, Maya climbed to her knees and crawled forward. She took Vanir-Freyja’s hand.

  “I’m so sorry that you’ve borne the curse of my image,” she said softly. “But you are my blood, my direct descendant, and it was too great a power to lay dormant for very long.”

  “I—I don’t understand,” Maya mumbled. “How is this possible?”

  “In Asgard, anything is possible,” Vanir-Freyja said. “When my brother, Freyr, and I were traded as hostages in war, we settled in Asgard. It became our home and we flourished there. But when I arrived, I was already with child. I had one daughter, the first Valkyrie—a full-blooded Vanir, but born in Asgard. And then she had a daughter, and so on.

  “As each new generation came, my brother and I cast a spell that would stop most of our powers from being inherited. But recently we’ve felt the tension in the realms growing, and we realized that Asgard needed special defenders. When you and your sisters were born, we did not cast the suppression spell. You all have our powers, and you, my dear heart, are the closest to me in looks. But your beauty has been a curse, hasn’t it?”

  Maya lowered her head.

  “Of course it has, especially in Valhalla with all those warriors. I have seen how they’ve all fallen in love with you.”

  “You have?” Maya whispered.

  Vanir-Freyja smiled, and it lit her whole face with a beauty that Maya had seen reflected in her dressing mirror many times before.

  “Oh, my sweet child, I never left Asgard. I live there still and have watched over you and your family—my family—closely. I have seen my namesake, Freya, and her restless, unstoppable spirit. I’ve watched Gwyn’s, Skaga’s, and Kara’s fighting skills develop, and I’ve seen you grow into the powerful beauty that you are.”

  “How can this be?” Maya asked. “Surely we would have seen you?”

  Vanir-Freyja waved her hand over her face. Suddenly her beauty vanished and an old crone in a thick, tattered cloak was sitting before her. The cloak hid her wings and gave the appearance of a painful hump. Her voice cracked with age. “This is the only way I could ever find freedom from my curse.”

  Maya instantly recognized the sweet-seller from the market her family regularly attended. For as long as she could remember, the old woman had given her and her sisters treats whenever they visited. “You’re Old Maave?”

  The old crone nodded. “It was the only way I could see my family without causing mayhem. How I have longed to hold you all and tell you who I am. Your uncle Freyr has felt the same. You know him as Rathgar.”

  Maya didn’t think anything could be more shocking—but finding out that her great-great-grandmother was Vanir-Freyja and that her great-great-uncle was actually the old blacksmith working at the stables of the Reaping Mares was almost too much to take in.

  “Rathgar,” she repeated softly. “He’s always been so nice to me and takes extra-special care with my Reaping Mare when he makes her shoes.”

  “Of course. He loves you. He loves all of you as much as I do, which is why we stay close and do what we can to protect you.”

  “You know everything about us?”

  Vanir-Freyja nodded. “Everything and everyone. Including the birth of Vonni’s baby.”

  Skye was sitting beside Maya, listening in silence, but finally reached out. “I am sorry to break this up—but the war. We must stop the war.”

  “What war?” Vanir-Freyja said.

  Maya shook her head and focused on the immediate. “Of course.” She turned back to her ancestor. “Don’t you know about the war? What Dirian has done?”

  Vanir-Freyja shook her head. “I know nothing. From the moment the Dark Elves discovered my secret and caught me in Asgard, I have been kept under a sleeping spell.” She looked around the hovel. “I can see and feel that we’re in Muspelheim, but I don’t know why.”

  Maya told Vanir-Freyja everything she knew, including the giants’ arrival on Earth and how Dirian had caused it all. She finished with what he’d done to Freya.

  “He cut off my baby’s wings!” Vanir-Freyja raged. “I’ll crush him!”

  “There are many of us waiting to do that,” Maya said softly. “But before that, we must stop the war in the realms from turning into—”

  “Ragnarök,” Vanir-Freyja finished.

  Skye nodded. “We believe Dirian has been offering you as the prize for the giants when they help him defeat Odin. You are to be given to their kings.”

  As the news sank in, the crone facade slipped away and was replaced by Vanir-Freyja’s outstanding beauty—beauty tinged with pain. “It’s this cursed face of mine,” she said miserably. “Because of it, war in the realms has started.”

  Tears rimmed her eyes, and seeing her pain was almost too much for Maya to bear. She shook her head. “Listen to me. This isn’t your fault, and it’s not Freya’s either, though she still argues it is. Dirian is doing this, no one else. It’s obvious your face hasn’t captured his heart. He was going to give you away to those who served him. So it’s his crime, not yours. But you are the only one who can stop it.”

  “Me? How?” Vanir-Freyja said miserably.

  Maya rose and reached down for her distant grandmother’s hands. “By coming with us to Earth and showing the giants that you are free and will never be anyone’s prize.”

  Vanir-Freyja nodded. She stood and wrapped her arms and wings around Maya. “We will do this together. You and I, my great-great-granddaughter and mirror twin. We will use our beauty like weapons and lead the giants away from Midgard and send them back to their realms.”

  Maya smiled. “For most of my life, I’ve resented how I look and been envious of my sisters’ fighting skill. But that ends today. If beauty started this war, then together we will use our beauty to stop it!”

  31

  THE KEEP WAS IN UPROAR as Dirian and his generals charged back into the War Room. Freya didn’t need to use her senses to know how furious the Dark Searcher was. He stormed over to the table and slammed both his fists down. The enormous table buckled beneath his rage, and the maps went flying and then settled on the floor around the room.

  “Find me the map with the tunnels to all the realms!” Dirian shouted to his men. “If Vanir-Freyja thinks she can find sanctuary back home, she’s in for a rude surprise. We’ll unleash fire giants on Vanaheim—and as their realm burns, they’ll plead for mercy and surrender her to me!”

  The map was found and Dirian called his generals forward. He stole a glance over his shoulder and caught Freya watching him.

  “You!
” he raged, taking three long strides to reach her.

  The body of the Dark Elf was still beside her. Dirian took one look at it and kicked it aside as though it meant nothing to him. “That sister of yours has stolen my prize! But it won’t save her or your realm. I will find Vanir-Freyja, and when I do, Maya will pay for her crimes—and I will make you watch!”

  “You’ve lost, Dirian!” Freya shouted.

  “Freya, stop!” Skuld warned frantically. “Say no more!”

  Freya knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t. She was in pain, and hearing that Maya had freed Vanir-Freyja was the best news possible. Even if Dirian killed her now, she could die happy.

  “Without Vanir-Freyja, you have nothing to offer the giants. They’ll turn on you and squash you like the insignificant bug that you are!”

  Dirian’s fury soared and washed over her in waves. He drew his black blade and lifted it over his head.

  Freya closed her eyes. This was it. She would not live to see the end of the war. Archie, Orus, and her family would be lost to her, and she’d never learn who her father was. It would all end now—and she was ready. . . .

  Freya waited one heartbeat, and then two, but nothing happened. She opened her eyes. Dirian had put his weapon away and knelt down close to her.

  “Thank you . . . ,” he rasped with his fractured voice. “Thank you, Freya. Once again you have made me see things clearly. Were it not for you, I would have made a terrible mistake and followed Vanir-Freyja. But now I realize I don’t need the giants anymore. Asgard has already fallen. Only Odin stands in the way of my ruling all the realms.”

  He reached out to her, and Freya flinched back. But instead of striking her, Dirian patted her lightly on the head as though she were a young child being praised by a parent. “You will make an excellent part of my war council.”

  Dirian rose and walked back to his men, his whole demeanor changed. He pointed at one of the generals. “I want you to take a team of Searchers and go after Vanir-Freyja. The giants don’t know she’s free yet—use that to your advantage. Take a group of fire giants with you to Vanaheim. I want her found and brought back here. Now that Vanir-Freyja has sealed our primary tunnel, it’s useless to us. Take the secondary one. It’s longer, but you will come out in the Great City. Go from there.”