by K.N. Lee
The Drascatu fluttered about, cocked its head, angling this way and that, as if searching for place to hook its claws in her skin.
She studied Jaidon. Her heart ached with love for him. “We’re supposed to be kick-ass FBI agents, catching the bad guys as a team and then, when we feel like it, making babies.” She tried to appeal to her mother and father. “Help me. Jaidon and I are supposed to build a life together. There’s got to be another way.”
Of course, no one spoke to her or offered her their opinions.
Instead, they patted her human hand, speaking in low tones, heedless of her life essence sailing about over their heads.
“I’ve got to make a choice.” She sighed, allowing a decision to form. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it,” she said.
As soon as she uttered the words, the Drascatu vanished.
The exquisite green garment she’d had on earlier crackled into place, complete with sparks, hugging her form. “Oh! I didn’t realize I lost it.” She smoothed the supple scales with her see-through hands. Then, she settled onto the floor, a transparent version of herself, staring at her physical form.
Jaidon, her mom, and her dad all remained where they were, as if flash-frozen. The only things moving were the life support machines, helping her body breath, her heart to beat, and vital fluids coursing through her bloodstream.
Lips parted, Jaidon looked like he was about to say something, but the words remained lodged in his throat. A glistening tear quivered at the corner of his eye.
Kara turned away.
“Excellent decision,” a male voice called. The sexy Norse love-god and warrior she now knew as Bork descended into the room, like an optical illusion appearing on a magician’s stage. He settled behind Jaidon, dwarfing him. “He really loves you, you know,” Bork said. He patted Jaidon’s head.
“I know. I love him, too,” Kara said, a wistfulness coiling around her heart.
“He’d have made a fine warrior.” Bork placed his fists on his hips, studying Jaidon’s strong back.
Hope surged in Kara’s heart. Maybe we can enter this destiny together. She stared hard at his still form, trying to get him to feel her, sense her, anything—anything besides stare blankly, mouth parted, caught in a snapshot of grief.
“But he’s got his own choices to make.” Bork lifted his night-black gaze to Kara. “And your destiny awaits you! Are you ready?”
Her attention snapped to his handsome, chiseled face. “Sure thing. Not like I had a choice. It was either stitch people’s destinies out of bones and guts, or enter hell. Neither choice appeals.”
“I know that’s how it must seem to you,” Bork said, compassion etched in lines around his eyes. “But you might come to love your job. Fraya does.”
“How in the world can I love weaving destinies out of some dead guy’s guts?” She placed her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “All I’m doing is choosing the lesser of two evils.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. I truly am. But...” He shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “This world...life on Earth as you’ve lived it so far...” He swept his arm through the air. “There is much you haven’t seen, heard, or sensed. It’s not what you think it is. There’s far more to life than getting a job, making babies, and all the things you were musing upon.”
“How do you know what I was musing upon?”
He shrugged again. “I just do. You were right on the edge of making the most vital decision of your life and I could sense your thoughts. But let’s not try to figure out trivia like that. You need to get to training camp. Come.” He held out his huge hand.
Kara stared at it. Nothing about her life seemed trivial. She had a good job with the FBI, and a good man to share her life with. But, there was no turning back. A decision had been made so she took his hand. Before she even finished her next breath, she found herself standing on top of a mountain, alone.
A breathtaking vista of snowy peaks, valleys, and blue skies stretched in all directions, punctuated with an icy cold. Pivoting slowly, she took a moment to savor the scene. It was one of those transcendent glimpses of beauty she’d only beheld a couple of times in her life.
When she turned halfway, she came to a sudden stop.
Before her stood a massive gate, interrupting a tall, spiked iron fence, surrounding a pinnacle.
Fierce winged goddesses, forged from metal, flanked the gate, daring her to enter.
She stepped toward the goddesses, muttering, “I made the decision, didn’t I? Of course, I’m going to enter.” Her fingers wrapped around the gate. Clinging to the roughly-textured bars, she glanced at them, before shifting her attention to what lay ahead.
A pathway, lined with iron posts, stretched up the hill. Gargoyles perched atop each post, holding torches. The dirt path led to a stone temple that would make the Pantheon look like a garden shed.
Kara blinked, her mouth agape.
“Hey, girl! Eyes up here.”
Her gaze whipped skyward.
Fraya hovered over her head, her cinder eyes aglow, snapping her fingers impatiently. “Push the gate open. Go! Training’s already started. You’re late.”
She whirled and took off, her great wings propelling her through the air toward the temple.
Figuring she’d need to put some muscle behind the push, Kara leaned against the solid-looking gate.
It yielded without effort, as if the hinges had been buttered.
She stumbled and nearly fell. “Can I really do this?” She looked behind her.
The gate closed with a loud clang, sealing her fate. Straightening her shoulders, she marched toward the structure. With each footfall, her shoulders inched toward her ears.
The gargoyles watched her, their beady red eyes following her movement.
Shuddering, she quickened her steps.
When they lifted from their perches, flying close to her head with bat-like wings, she took off in a sprint.
As she got closer, metal clanged against metal. Swords? A whoosh whipped through the air, followed by a low thwack. Arrows?
She climbed the stone steps at the front of the temple.
A young woman lounged at the top of the steps, fiddling with her smart phone. Her head jerked up. She lunged to her feet and shoved the phone into the pocket of her red and yellow pants.
“Oh, hey,” she said. “Are you the recruit?”
“I think so. And you are?” Kara studied her.
Slender with a pretty face and brunette tresses held back in a ponytail, she looked to be about seventeen. “I’m Bellona. But my nickname—the name I gave myself—is Slaya. Like it?”
“Sure,” Kara said, smiling.
“I want to be one of you. You’re so lucky.”
“Am I?” Kara tried to peer through the open doorway, flanked by stone pillars.
“Totally.” Slaya glanced over her shoulder. “I was sent to fetch you.” Her face reddened. “Um, don’t tell that I was looking at my smart phone, okay? I’m not supposed to have it. Fraya will have my head if she finds out. She’s the boss, in case you wondered. She’s responsible for giving orders and soul reckoning.”
“Soul reckoning?”
“Yes, she balances the books. Tallies who went where. For accounting purposes, you know. And she bosses everyone around.” Slaya grinned. “Anyway...they’re waiting for you. Come on.”
She ushered Kara past the pillars, through the doorway into a vast courtyard.
Women of every race, all with wings of varying sizes, practiced swordplay, archery, and other combative arts.
“We’re not supposed to know how to use all these weapons, but Fraya feels it’s important. Historically, the Valkyrie were viewed as arm candy. Odin’s personal love-slaves or some such. They were called his shield-maidens and, when they weren’t on the job, gathering warriors, they were said to serve the chosen.” She rolled her eyes. “Fraya said, ‘screw that’. She started teaching us the art of war. In case we need it. We’re so much more than the men give us cre
dit for. Honestly, Odin sits in his ivory tower somewhere, entertaining warriors, while we’re out administering justice.” Slaya looked askance at Kara. Her cheeks grew pink. “And when I say ‘we’ I mean the sisterhood. I’m not one of you yet, but...my mom’s out there on the battlefield.”
“It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be amazing.” Kara put her hand on Slaya’s shoulder. She thought of her mother giving her up at birth. “So…you have to be born into the Valkyrie?”
Slaya smiled. “I think so. Most have been in their job for centuries. But during times of chaos the sisterhood must seek those who have forgotten for whatever reasons. And you know and I know life in these modern times sucks, what with terrorism and all that.”
Kara swallowed, looking toward the temple. “Do I have to go in right away?”
“Don’t you want to?” The teen’s eyes grew wide.
Kara bit her lip. “I’m not sure what to expect.”
“You’ll be fine.” The young woman grinned. “Oh. And one more thing you must know about your training. You’re in a time warp here so...”
Fraya’s voice lashed the air. “Recruit. Out here. Now!”
“What does that mean?” Kara’s eyebrows stitched together.
“You’ll see.” Slaya’s face grew somber. “Keep watching me, in case you don’t believe me. I’ll be right here at the top of these stairs.”
“Out. Here. Now!” Fraya’s voice struck Kara’s chest, like a mallet.
This could be worse than training with men at the academy. She raced to the middle of the courtyard, where Fraya stood, surrounded by winged warriors.
“Hand to hand combat,” Fraya commanded. “Go!” She pointed to a short, sturdy looking woman with blonde ringlets trapped in a headband.
The woman approached the center of the circle. She held her body like a wrestler. Without warning, she lunged for Kara. In an instant, she had her on her back.
Kara lay blinking, stars swimming around in her eyes to the taunts of female voices. Oh, I so don’t like being the brunt of jokes. It’s like I’m back in elementary school. She jack-knifed to her feet, put her head down, and charged blondie like a bull.
The woman fell with a thud.
In two short seconds, Kara straddled her.
The blonde grinned at her. “Nice move.”
“Thanks,” said Kara, returning the grin. Her vision grew hazy. All the shapes around her blurred. And then she found herself on her back, the wind knocked out of her. She frowned and squeezed her eyes shut. Something solid landed on her belly. Her eyes flew open.
A brunette straddled her, looking victorious. Blue skies lit her flowing hair.
“What the hell? Where did you come from?”
“Time warp, baby. I forgot, you’re new.” The woman grinned at her.
Kara’s leg bent and she kneed the woman’s back. Then, she rolled out from under her.
“You’re a tough one,” the brunette said, panting.
The winged women cheered and jeered.
Kara seized the woman’s hair and yanked it to the side. Rolling out from underneath her, she scrambled to her feet. She caught sight of Slaya, standing at the top of the stairs wearing a long blue skirt and a tank top. Didn’t she have on pants? Again, stars swam in front of her eyes. Everything blurred. She blinked and found herself standing, facing targets made of corpses. In her hands, she held a black crossbow. Her arms were covered with bruises. Her head whipped about. How the hell did I get here?
At the top of the steps, Slaya waved, wearing gray shorts and a blue denim jacket.
Kara shook her head, trying to clear it.
A few feet away, Bork stood next to Fraya, one arm slung around her shoulders. “She’s coming along well, don’t you think?”
Fraya grunted. “Let’s see her shoot a crossbow.”
Kara had excelled at firearms training at the Academy, often scoring better marks than the guys. She held up the weapon, aimed, and fired.
When the arrow struck the center of the target, she grinned and turned to see...an animated battle happening all around her.
Winged women, their arrows notched in their crossbows, hovered in the sky, and waited for instruction.
Fraya flitted overhead. She pointed to several of the women. “This is a simulation. You ladies do him, him, and him.” She turned to Kara. “Kara, you do him.” She pointed to a lifelike animation of a guy writhing on the bloody ground, spent shell casings all around him.
“I do what to him?” Her stomach coiled in knots.
“Send him to Valhalla. Send him to heaven,” Fraya snapped.
“With what?”
Fraya batted the side of her head. “With the crossbow in your hands, dummy. Shoot him through the heart.” She stared at Kara’s shaking limbs. “This is a simulation, don’t forget. The real work will happen after you graduate—if you graduate.”
Kara took a long shuddering breath. “Okay.”
“Whatever you do, don’t miss your target. This guy’s fate is uncertain. If you miss, the Drascatu will take him.” Then, she flew away to boss someone else around.
Kara looked at her hands. Sure enough, she held a crossbow. This training is crazy. Her arms trembling, she held up her crossbow.
The Drascatu stared at her with its sightless eyes and made its crazy grin stretched-face thing—the horrifying one.
The man looked at her, pleading with his eyes. “Help me,” he mouthed.
She lifted her weapon, took aim, and fired.
The arrow hit home in his chest.
Still clutching the crossbow in one hand, she made a fist with the other and pumped it in the air. “I did it!”
A light emerged from the top of his head and disappeared.
She grabbed the warrior next to her. “Did he go to the good place?”
“If you can call hanging with Odin the good place, then, yes.”
She grinned. The scene blurred. Then, she stood at the edge of a cliff. Wind blew her hair around her face. Still wearing the green-scaled garment, she glanced down to see her arms bulged with muscles. Her legs felt stronger than ever, like she’d done nothing but power lifts and squats for weeks. She turned to see twelve formidable looking women in a half circle behind her.
Fraya stood in the center, glaring.
Great. What did I do wrong?
They all stood with their arms crossed. Their wings extended behind them, glistening in the sun.
Am I being demoted? Did I fail the Academy? Her eyes pricked with tears. I thought I did well, overall.
Beyond them stood Slaya at the top of the steps at the temple. Her hair framed her face in a cute bob instead of the flowing tresses she had when they first met.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“It’s test time.” Fraya put her hands on her hips.
“I don’t suppose anyone can tell me how long we’ve been at this,” Kara said. Memories of weeks of training, endless failures, and pride-filled successes all swam in her brain.
“Weeks. Months. Days. Minutes. Does it matter?” Fraya said. She stepped closer to Kara. “This is your graduation ceremony. You make it or you don’t.”
“What do I have to do?”
Fraya put her arm around Kara’s shoulders. “See that?” She pointed down the mountain to a distant valley below.
“Yeah,” Kara said, a strong sense of unease clamping down her insides.
A strong wind blew up the canyon, whipping Kara’s hair.
“Don’t hit it when you fall.”
“Don’t what?” Kara said, sensing a full-on freak out moment about to happen. She started to back away from the edge.
Surging forward, the women crowded her. Several sets of hands grabbed her by her arms and legs. They swung her higher and higher. They kept up the heave-ho, grunting as if she weighed a ton.
She cursed and yelled, feeling like a pirate being tossed from a ship into the deep sea for a mutiny she played no part in.
Then, they relea
sed her, sending her hurtling off the mountain. Screaming, she fell through space, rushing toward the canyon.
As she plummeted, she heard Jaidon, as clearly as if he were next to her.
“You’re better than this. You’re strong as hell. You’ve got this.”
“I don’t think so, Jai. I think I’m going to die.”
She pictured his German Shepherd gaze, reaching into her.
“You’ve got this, baby. Go!”
“I don’t think so.”
The valley floor grew closer and closer.
She pictured the crows at St. Augustine cemetery, flying around her, taunting her. Then, she imagined their beaks turning into horrid smiles, transforming into the Drascatu.
The faces of jeering boys on the playground of her old elementary school swirled through her head. They called her names and laughed at her.
In her mind, stupid girls ran from her, telling her she was strange. She pictured herself, alone and lonely, wandering on the school blacktop, her wooden sword hanging from her hand.
“I can do this,” she said. She yelled at the crows fluttering through her brain. “I thought you were my friends! Help me out.”
They sailed from her mind and fluttered in front of her, swirling around her head like ghosts.
“Caw,” one of them called. “Caw.”
Words appeared before, like a Google translation app in the sky. “Let your wings unfold. Become one of us.”
Wings unfurled behind her.
Without thought, she swooped, inches from the ground, and soared into the sky. Up she flew, a grin as wide as the horizon spreading across her face.
The din of women cheering, whooping, and clapping met her ears.
She hovered above them, a flaming sword gripped tightly in one hand, a crossbow in the other. The crossbow felt natural in her grip like she’d wielded it thousands of times. She scrutinized the sword. The hilt of the blade seemed as if it was made for her grasp. Rubies adorned one side of the gold pommel at the end of the handle. The polished knuckle guard allowed barely enough room for her fingers, without constraint. This is way better than my wooden sword.
