by Kiki Howell
Aaron nodded.
Blue girl stepped closer. “But know this, Aaron. She’s a Valkyrie. With one touch, she can kill you.”
“She’s got mad skills or something? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” He smiled, but the levity he was aiming for fell flat when he saw the girls’ faces.
The blue girl shook her head. “No. She’s a Valkyrie. With one touch, she takes fatally wounded warriors to the afterlife. With one touch, she whispers out life. Aaron? Aaron! You need to breathe.”
The teenagers rushed to him as his knees almost gave way. But he flinched away from them, bracing himself on a nearby wall, wondering, again, if he was merely dreaming.
“We can’t kill you with our touch,” purple girl hollered.
Pink girl turned to her sisters. “Give him room. This is a lot to take in.”
He swallowed, thinking. “So Adala can kill me by touching me?”
They nodded.
“And Luke is now impervious to being shot in the heart?”
They nodded again.
“And Sam and you three have wings? And...and did I see black Pegasuses in Sam’s backyard or was that a figment of my imagination?”
Blue girl nodded. “There were two of them actually. Two black Pegai. Adala and Madde’s. They need a way to get around, and since they don’t have wings themselves...”
He laughed, the sound maniacal. “I’m nuts. I mean, I didn’t think I could lose it like this, because I’m not all that of an imaginative guy, but I’ve...I knew things weren’t good. I’ve been lost since I was discharged. But this—”
Purple girl rolled her eyes. “You’re not crazy. You might have PTSD. And now you see women with wings and Pegai.”
He took a measured step away from the girls. “I’ll keep your secret. Not that anyone would believe me if I blabbed. I just...I need some time. I don’t know how to process.”
“Of course.” Pink girl nodded. “But about Adala...should we wait to have her come to talk to you or—”
“No!” He tried to calm the demanding tone in his voice. “No, I think it would help if I talked to her. The sooner, the better.”
He might be losing his mind. He might be seeing huge black horses with wings and his buddy sit up and breathe after he’d died. But nothing would hold him back from seeing Adala again. Except for a shave. He knew he didn’t look his best, and why not make a good impression on the...Valkyrie?
Yeah, he’d lost his mind.
But fuck it.
“Tonight. I want to see her tonight.” His voice was back to sounding hoarse, but this time he knew it was from anticipation. He couldn’t wait to see her again and wasn’t too sure what that meant about him.
The three teenagers nodded. “We’ll send her tonight.”
He straightened, his heart hammering, about to nod too, when the multicolor-haired girls looked at each other, each lifting a brow, and vanished in a poof of gold and silver glitter.
Yeah, he’d definitely lost his mind.
But if he hadn’t, he had a Valkyrie coming over soon.
Chapter Two
RASHIDIN, SYRIA
The apartment complex was quite large—six stories tall and spread over half a city-block, but the apartments themselves were tiny. So small it was hard to believe whole families could live in the one-bedroom or studio rooms. But Adala knew many people lived in the bullet-pocked building. She could feel them—their panic, their fear, mixed with the sense of impending doom, never far away as the distant eruptions of bombs exploded and bullets winged by, smashing into stucco walls.
She and Madde, her sister and best friend, had felt the battle, felt looming death, and had flown in minutes ago on their Pegai, Bear and Gus. It was good to be here, where she was needed and would be busy and distracted so she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, think about what she’d just seen—little Samuella nearly dead but somehow saved by her human, Luke. And Luke had truly died yet come back to life because of Sam’s love. It was gobsmacking to say the least, especially because Adala had been raised to think that any interaction between her kind and a human would result in the man going insane and the dís dying.
There could be a chance for the dísir to...procreate with humans. The dísir were a dying race, so it would be beneficial to figure out ways to not go extinct. But more than making babies was a chance for love, for it seemed to have saved both Sam and Luke.
Ah, but not for Adala. None of that was for her.
She was no longer a dís. Her thoughts always turned bleak and black when she thought of the scientist who had tortured her and then cut off her wings, forcing her to change into a Valkyrie. She swallowed and shuddered, thinking back to 1952, back to when she’d been captured. Until then, she’d lived a rather charmed dís life. And after...
Trauma’s a funny thing to get over. If getting over is even the right word. But people stress to get over it. Get closure. Get on with your life. Just don’t talk about how someone hurt you. For many years, especially in the eighties, she’d been a complete self-help junkie, looking for the next pop psychologist who could make her internal pains go away. Someone who could make her feel normal again. It had been her influence that had led the Norns to watch Oprah Winfrey. The Norns were now obsessed with Oprah, writing to her weekly, probably planning to kidnap the poor woman at any minute. Gods, they loved Oprah.
But what some people didn’t understand was how certain kinds of trauma stay with you, whether you like it or not. It doesn’t mean a person subjugates themselves to victimhood again and again. It simply means if the brain doesn’t want to forget something, it won’t. If the mind isn’t ready to heal, it won’t. And the trauma morphs from a terror into a shadow, always near, but not necessarily a hindrance. It’s just a darkness that’s tethered to you.
She swallowed again and glanced at Madde. They still wore their breastplates and longswords, reminders from long ago of when they’d fought on the battlefield with medieval warriors. Well, Madde had. A lot. Adala had tried to avoid it, since she wasn’t fond of fighting and bloodshed. Which made being a Valkyrie a curse—day in and day out death. There were windows of time when they wouldn’t feel the call to touch warriors and send them to the afterlife. But those windows had gotten smaller and smaller as of late.
However, the one piece of comfort Adala took was that she could ease the dying. She enjoyed giving to others. It was a horrible job, but she loved smiling at warriors before their death, telling them it would be all right, giving them a second’s reprieve from their pain before she touched them.
The battle in the apartment complex died suddenly, bracingly. It hadn’t been a big conflict, but there were three dead on the fifth floor, in the hallway. Adala and Madde had been too late for them, and the Valkyrie didn’t feel the calling from the prone, bloody men. There were also quiet special forces soldiers, looking over the dead for identifiers.
Madde and Adala were hidden behind what most humans would think was an invisible spell, but it was just part of being a thousand-year-old creature, knowing how to manipulate light rays for concealment. Otherwise, the special forces would shoot at them as they passed in the hallway.
Something was calling to them in a room down from where the soldiers were whispering. Someone, actually. They found their way outside one of the small apartments, feeling the calling from a dying warrior within. Getting through closed doors was difficult while invisible, but luckily the door was ajar.
Madde walked through first, stiffening once she was inside the small room, darkened from a thin blanket over the one window. The lone source of light was from a small lamp on the floor by a bed. Adala stiffened too when she looked upon the scene, the one tiny lamp seeming to flood the warrior with a radiant sheen. A woman was small and on her knees, her arms stretched out yet shaking as she protected a little girl behind her.
The woman looked up at Madde and Adala, shock apparent. The dying could see Valkyries, no matter what shield they used.
Madde slowly exhaled.
&nbs
p; Adala could guess that her sister felt what she did. The woman was either the mother or some sort of guardian to the teeny girl, probably no more than four years old. It was soul-crushing to see the woman bleeding out from her liver, the blood darker and thicker than her other wound, on her neck. The neck wound was bad, but not lethal. It was the liver shot that would kill her, no matter if the special forces found her or not.
Adala, often seeing mothers turned warriors for their children, took out her iFairyPhone and called purple-haired Skuld, one of the Norns, to get a dís to care for the child after the mother died.
“Just the girl I wanted to talk to,” Skuld answered cheerfully.
Adala couldn’t feel the sun from the cheer. Not while in this apartment. “Madde and I are about to take a woman who is protecting a child.”
The woman started yelling in Arabic, shaking her head, her eyes glassy, blood flooding the floor around her knees. She was a strong one and so brave. Oh, the pain she must be suffering to have to say goodbye to the beautiful child behind her. Adala tried to choke back the grief.
Dísir, even ones who had turned into Valkyries, were not allowed to feel anything considered a negative emotion. It was the rules, er, guidelines. The Norns thought it best not to feel anything that wasn’t considered chipper, so feeling the woman’s grief and sadness was compartmentalized. Adala and Madde would do something fun later to try to forget today. Try to forget the whole day, even before, when she’d run into Aaron again.
Aaron...
He was more beautiful than she remembered. Goddess, he’d been brave, shouldering a sergeant on his back as bullets whizzed by, trying to race to a helicopter that was too far away to save the man. Yes, he’d been so brave. Too bad she’d had to touch the sergeant. The calling had been too great to stop herself, even for gallant Aaron.
Adala shook her head and listened as Skuld said, “Okay, Zhenzhen is free right now, no child she’s fairy godmothering. I’ll send her...and I’m coming too.”
Adala almost asked why, but the small mother-warrior wavered, her eyes getting heavy.
“Come quickly, please,” Adala whispered and hung up, looking at her sister.
The little girl cried, hanging onto her mother.
Madde spoke in Arabic, The fighting is over.
“Hal talabat almusaeadat?” the small mother asked.
Adala nodded. Yes, she’d called for help. We will take care of your girl, she answered also in Arabic.
“Jid. Jayd.” The woman tried to nod, but her eyes hung too heavy and she jerked upright. “Lays laday ’ay eayilat alyasar. Abnatay hi wahduha.”
Adala tried not to noticeably wince at what the woman said. She had no more family. Her daughter would be alone.
The woman lowered, folding onto her shins, crying. She wavered and collapsed on her side, her daughter maneuvering around, lying on top of her mother, crying louder. Adala heard the special forces soldiers murmuring something, and she waved the air around them, making it difficult for humans to hear the little girl’s cries.
Madde and Adala looked at each other. Madde held her hand, knowing how hard this was for Adala. It might be hard for Madde too, but Adala never knew. Madde didn’t like to talk much. But she seemed to always understand Adala, no matter what. They sat down with mother and child, not daring to touch one of them until they said their goodbyes.
The mother tried to caress her daughter’s face, but once seeing the blood on her hands, she slid them to her shoulders. “Kunn jid, Talia. Kunn tiba.” Be good, Talia. Be kind.
The little girl wailed, shaking her head, answering in her language, I won’t be good. I won’t do it, mama. You have to stay with me to make me be good. Stay with me.
Madde touched Adala’s cheek, startling her. She turned to her sister, watching as one of her tears formed into a diamond. Adala didn’t mean to cry. She knew it was forbidden. But still the waterworks and gems came. And Madde would protect her, never tell another dís that she would periodically cry.
Adala looked pointedly at the little girl, indicating that she could have the tear turned one-carat sparkling rock. Madde nodded.
The mother smiled at her daughter. Oh, her heartbreaking smile. She wiped at her daughter’s face, no matter the blood, her lids getting heavier and heavier, her face completely devoid of color.
“Baladi fatat shajaeat.” My brave girl.
The little girl burrowed her head into her mother’s chest, hanging onto her with all her might.
The mother coughed, blood splattering everywhere. Gods, Adala wished this part wasn’t so difficult. Not for herself. But for the humans. A little girl without a mother. Adala could relate, except she’d always had Madde, her older sister by nine months. She glanced at her sister who gave up everything for her, her sister who sometimes could read her mind. But Adala wondered if she knew how weary she’d grown of being a Valkyrie and seeing scenes like this.
The mother’s breathing was labored, but she drew out, I love you, my brave girl. I love you so much. Never forget how much I love you.
The calling was getting louder now. Both she and Madde knew it. That’s what they called the feeling to touch someone. It wasn’t really a calling. There was no noise—more like a feeling deep in their bones. A need to relieve someone from their pain. Their time had come.
Madde rose to her knees, promising the mother they’d take good care of the girl. “Tahtaj 'iilaa tarak alan.” You need to let go now.
The mother coughed more, spasmed. She was fighting for just a few more seconds. Understandable. Adala knew she and her sister would have endless wells of patience for just a few more seconds. Adala couldn’t even wrap her head around the thought of having a daughter and then being ripped away from her. She ached on the inside for the mother and daughter.
Something about the ache, the grief, made her think of Aaron, though she shouldn’t think about him. He was just one soldier she’d seen among thousands. It wasn’t his bravery that made him stand out; although, he was brave. It was the way he cared for his men, like the little mother for her daughter, that captured Adala’s heart. She never forgot how Aaron carefully placed the sergeant in the helicopter, how he’d hugged the man, holding him close for a moment before turning and running back for more of his men. She never forgot the pain in his blue eyes.
Madde caught another of Adala’s tears, which slowly formed into a diamond in the palm of her hand.
Maybe it was for the best to cry, though. The fatter the tears, the more the little girl, Talia, would have for a future.
There was an odd sensation around the room, the feeling of too much static electricity in the air, then tiny golden sparks burst in the corner. Skuld and Zhenzhen appeared.
The little girl and mother watched in fascination.
The mother’s tears rushed down her face, denial no longer a place to turn to. She prayed, her daughter joining her as Zhenzhen crept forward, smiling, offering a solemn welcome after she’d taken the diamonds from Madde.
Skuld sat beside Adala, watching reverently as the mother and daughter had their last moments, whispering words of love, wishing for a peaceful future, praying. Zhenzhen had her wings out, glorious teal, like her hair, looking like an exotic flower in the midst of the war-torn apartment. It’s easier for humans to believe in fairy godmothers if the dís shows her wings.
Zhenzhen spoke Arabic to the little girl, promising she could stay with her mother as long as she wanted, promising the mother she’d protect her daughter against all harm and to care for her with love.
The mother smiled at her daughter, the light from her skin nearly gone. “Take...her to America.” Her accent was thick with a slight crispness like she’d learned from a British person. “I want her...to go there. Learn English. Eat French fries. Live...live.”
Zhenzhen bowed her head with a nod.
It was beyond time to touch the mother. Madde and Adala stood as one. Zhenzhen reached an arm protectively around the daughter, a wing surrounding the child too
. Adala pretended it didn’t hurt, the way the dísir shielded the human children from them. It wasn’t the first time a dís had to be called in to take care of orphaned kiddos. Adala herself had been a fairy godmother before becoming a Valkyrie. She loved children, adored every inch of their beauty and magical laughter. She’d never hurt a child. She’d never hurt a human.
Ah, but she also understood Zhenzhen’s desire to protect the human girl. With one touch, Adala was a killer.
Madde knelt at the mother’s head, bowing her head, praying with the mother, whose words had grown difficult to understand, just a whisper of a soul. At the end of the prayer, Madde caressed the mother’s cheek, wiping away the tears.
The little warrior mother stopped breathing, a smile on her face, her pupils dilating and growing dull.
Adala wasn’t sure how much time passed. Maybe hours. Maybe only a few seconds. But soon, the special forces were making quiet noises toward the small apartment. Zhenzhen opened her arms to the little girl, who cuddled close, wrapping her skinny arms around the dís’s neck, crying and wiping her face on her chest.
“I’m taking her to America.” Zhenzhen stood, holding the girl close.
Skuld narrowed her eyes at the fairy godmother as she wrapped her wings around the child.
“She should stay here. We should find some family—”
“They have no family,” Madde said, her voice stern. “The mother told us.”
Zhenzhen lifted her chin. “The mother asked me to take her to America.” She glanced at Skuld, her brown eyes determined. “You can use your powers and zip me back there or I’ll fly with her.”
Skuld leaned back, looking like Zhenzhen had stabbed her. She placed a hand over her stomach, as if the wound were real.
The Norns had been the dísir leaders for all of time, but something odd was happening. Rebellion hung in the air. Defiance. Adala could feel it and knew that the dísir were finding a new way, one with or without the Norns as their guides in this human-filled life. But she and Madde...well, defiance seemed an adventure they couldn’t take. They couldn’t interact with humans. The other dísir hardly interacted with them. They were Valkyrie. Killers.
