by Ali Cross
I blinked, and she had returned. But she was not alone. Lucy stood beside her, her face alive with a brilliant smile that shattered all my walls and left me with a singular need to be forgiven. I stepped forward, then thought better of it. I had defiled her body, committed murder. I hadn’t saved her.
Lucy ran to me and hugged me so tightly that words became pointless.
“Oh, baby. Baby,” she crooned.
I sobbed endless rounds of “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” while I dripped tears onto her narrow but just-as-comforting-as-ever shoulder.
“It’s not your fault, baby, it’s not your fault,” Lucy interjected between all my cries.
Memories tumbled through my mind, long forgotten. Now they clamored for acknowledgement, for me to claim them.
I stand with Odin as we watch a scene unfold before us. We stand on Bifrost, the Bridge between all the worlds, while Mahria, queen of the Valkyries, struggles with the birth of her child.
In her belly she carries Loki’s heir—one who will possess the qualities of demon and Gardian. One who will do much good, or much evil.
And Odin asks if I would be that child.
He looks away from Mahria, curled onto her side, clutching her belly with desperate hands, to search my eyes. I hold nothing back from him—in his eyes I see love unending and a faith in my ability that I don’t question. If he would send me, I will go.
“My beautiful daughter,” Odin says, placing his hand on my cheek. “This child’s way is full of many dangers.” He gestures to the scene in the humble adobe hut. I glance and see a small, dark man, worn down with years and care, smile at Mahria. I know him—Elario. He has long been preparing the way for a warrior to come.
A warrior that I never suspected would be me.
“You know what will be asked of you, my child?”
I swallow the rising fear. For though I will do all in my power to succeed, I know the way will be hard—probably even harder than I can imagine. But I nod my head anyway.
Odin smiles, and places both his hands on my arms, squeezing them for a moment before pulling me to his chest. He chokes back a sob as I wrap my arms around him and hold on as though my life depends on it.
“There will be those who will help you,” he says in a whisper, his mouth near my ear. “I won’t ever truly leave you, though I cannot go where Loki will take you.”
He means Helheimer. I will go to Hell, surrounded by those I fought in the War. Raised and taught by the Fallen, the ones who have been cast out for rebellion. I will live in a den of vipers and there will be no savior for me.
Through her pain and fear Mahria smiles at Elario. Even now, she is so beautiful, I marvel how one such as she could allow herself to join with Loki, with the one who now calls himself Lucifer.
The ground quivers and Elario’s tools of healing bounce in their bowls, clattering. Sand runs toward the low spots on the floor.
Quickly now, I think. The Dark One will be here soon.
Odin wraps his arms more tightly around me.
Mahria grimaces as she rolls onto her back, her hands sliding to the top of her belly. Fear passes across her face before it is stamped out by sheer determination—by courage.
“If you choose to go,” Odin says—his chest rumbling with his deep voice. I close my eyes, willing myself to never forget what this feels like, to be home, to be loved. “You will have the ability to deal the Beguiler a blow far greater than any since the beginning of time.”
I nod, my cheeks wet with tears.
Elario places his hands on the woman’s belly, seeking the babe, seeking to guide the child.
The child that will be me.
I feel a tug on my spirit. “It is time,” Odin says. But I already know. I can feel it—I can feel my destiny calling to me and I know the choice has already been made. I must go.
But I look over my shoulder to my love, reach out my hand for him. Our fingertips just graze as I’m pulled toward Earth and the body that will entrap my spirit.
“I will remember you,” Michael calls, but I’m already beginning to forget.
Everything I need to know pours into me. I will have a task more difficult than any in the history of time. The nature of man lends itself to a lowly life, to succumb to the temptations of the Earth. And I will carry the burden of a body born of darkness, with precious little light to guide me.
Odin kisses my cheek and before I can ask him how I will know, how I will find the people who can help me, I am pulled away from him. Away and through the Doorway and into a world I suddenly feel utterly unprepared to face.
I find my way to the tiny body, the one that is now mine.
From the warm haven of my mother’s belly, I feel the ground shake beneath us, feel my mother’s fear as it rushes through me.
In sudden stillness rough hands grasp me.
I see him: an old, weathered face, his eyes filled with fear. Is he afraid of me? I cry and scream; I wish to go back . . . back somewhere that is better than this.
He whirls to face a looming figure whose shadow falls over me and feels . . . familiar.
Cool drops fall on my head from the face of the man who holds me. He looks down at me, fear and hope at war within his eyes.
But I look away from him—I look to the one who I recognize, the one I know is my father.
He steps toward us and reaches out his hands. When he takes me from the grasp of the old man, his hands are cold, but he is beautiful—not dark and shadowy like he seemed at first. He smiles at me and I hope I smile back.
“Dios,” I hear the old man say, and then we are gone, falling, falling, but I am safe in my father’s arms.
chapter thirty-two
You Remember, Odin’s low, rumbly voice whispered in my mind. I Remember now, how it felt when he spoke with my cheek pressed to his chest.
I nodded.
Lucy squeezed my hand, then let go. “May I speak?” she asked of Odin. He nodded and gestured for her to begin.
“I want to speak on behalf of the one person who ever gave a damn about me. The only person I loved besides my own mother and sister—Desolation.”
“Don’t.” My voice rasped through my throat, suddenly thick with tears.
Odin placed a large hand on my shoulder, as if saying wait, be still.
“You can’t,” I said in a louder voice. She couldn’t speak for me. She couldn’t still love me. Not after . . . Not after everything I’d done. “I Became a demon, the daughter of my father.” I looked at Lucy then, willing her to see just how unworthy of her love I was.
“And I . . . I . . . ” I swallowed. This truth was the hardest I’d ever had to speak. “I—tore her apart when I Became.” I forced myself to look at Lucy, to radiate cold triumph—just like Akaros had taught me and Father had exemplified.
But Lucy smiled. Smiled! She exuded warmth and forgiveness . . . and I choked on the sudden swell of tears and sorrow. The world tilted and I had to reach out to steady myself—Odin clasped me in his warm embrace, and his smile echoed Lucy’s, his eyes shining with such love.
I covered my face with my hands, and screamed. “How can you smile?” I demanded. “Just let me go back to Hell—I’ll stay there, I won’t go to Earth. I promise, please. Just . . . Let. Me. Go. Back.”
My whole body ached for the cold emptiness of Hell. Where there’d be none of this love, none of this forgiveness, none of this pain. Just. Nothing.
“Please,” I tried to fold in over myself, but Odin kept me standing. I wasn’t a stone. I was a tiny, insignificant nothing.
“Lucy,” Odin said.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
I pulled more tightly into myself at the sound of Lucy’s voice, her smiling voice. How could she smile when her murderer was right here? When I was right here?
“You’ve seen your life, daughter. The choices you have made.”
“Yes.”
Smaller. I curled smaller.
“What would you care to add?” It sounded
like Odin also smiled. But Lucy was a sinner, how could she Ascend after what she’d done? All the men she’d slept with, all the drugs she’d helped peddle at Daniel’s house?
There was a pause, a long pause, and I thought I heard Lucy cry out. Without thinking, I looked up, wanting to reach out and ease her pain. But I saw Odin looking down at me, a knowing smile on his face, and I jerked back.
“I have sinned,” Lucy said. Just like that. Simple truth. I couldn’t stand it. “But I have also loved.” And oh, her words rang with truth, and I knew. Suddenly I knew it all. She’d be forgiven, she’d Ascend, and the richness of that blessing, that gift for my friend who deserved it so much, washed over me like a tidal wave.
I cried with joy for her even before the words were spoken.
“Then be forgiven, daughter, and enter the gardens of Heaven.”
A soft, radiant light infused Lucy’s body.
The Valkyrie began to sing, sending shivers of warmth like melted molasses over my body.
“Your Majesty?” Lucy asked, with the tinkle of bells in her voice. “May I stay?”
Odin chuckled—chuckled! “You may.”
“Odin, I would also speak for Desolation.” At first I couldn’t see where the voice came from. It seemed to sound from all directions and none at once. It wasn’t until I shielded my eyes against the growing brightness that I realized a figure was descending from the open expanse of space. Like a comet he fell, all shining brilliance and heat.
As the light receded, the figure of a teenage boy came into view. His whole being shimmered with warm light as he approached me. His black hair shone like oil, but his face was still obscured by light.
He reached out and took my hands in his. “Hello.” I knew that pale face—even without the dark shadows under his eyes. Even though his lips now curled into a smile, he lifted his chin with confidence, and happiness shone in his eyes.
“Aaron?”
Tears streamed unbidden down my face, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his.
He tightened his grip on my hand, and didn’t look away as he asked, “May I speak for her?”
Odin opened his hands and nodded.
“Everything I am, is because of Desolation.”
My heart sank and I tried to pull my hands away, but Aaron wouldn’t let go. He pulled me closer instead, until we stood only a breath apart. He looked down and I caught a glimpse of the dimple in his left cheek and the mischievousness in his eyes. When he spoke, each word pierced my heart.
“I am free. I am happy. I can see my life as the waste it was—and not because of you, but because I didn’t have enough faith in my own worth.” He closed his eyes in a long, slow blink. “But at the end, it was my love for you that freed my heart. Right before I died, I knew that I wanted you to be happy. Wanted your happiness even above my own.”
He turned my hands over in his and rubbed gentle circles on the insides of my wrists with his thumbs. I noticed his hands were free of the tattoos he’d had on his fingers—everything about him seemed bright, clean . . . perfect. “More than I wanted to not be alone, to be known by someone and not just always the freak—more than all of that, I wanted you to be happy, to feel loved, to never feel like I felt my whole life. Loving you,” he dipped his head a little, so his face was closer to mine, so I could feel his breath on my lips, feel his nose just out of reach of mine, “loving you was the best thing I ever did.” He took a deep breath, licked his lips. I thought he might kiss me. “And it’s the reason I have Ascended.”
I gasped. Ascended! Aaron lived among the stars in perfect happiness. He was safe. Forever safe. Now tears ran freely and I leaned into him, resting my forehead on his shoulder.
My mind was a constant replay of all I’d heard, of all the love that had been shared with me, of all the hope that now ran rampant through every cell of my body.
Odin cleared his throat.
“They have forgiven you. And they love you—the greatest of all gifts.” Odin added the last with his finger under my chin. His blue eyes, swirling with the colors of the sky and the stars, shone with perfect love.
“My child. My precious child.” His eyes welled with tears and fear once again made me tremble. “The halls of Valhalla wait for you, should you choose to stay. When Ragnarok comes, you may have another chance to reach Ascension.” He smiled at Aaron, who still held my left hand. “For now you would wait, your days in peace and leisure, with the worlds’ greatest warriors, for the day that battle comes—and I fear the day may be soon.”
Odin let go of my hand and stood up straighter, seeming to grow taller and more regal.
“You must choose, daughter.” He gestured toward the Door, where Heimdall still held the view to Earth open. Except it was no longer a view of the same scenes—now I saw The Hallowed in the cemetery, engaged in a fierce battle. When I looked back at Odin, he seemed to sense the question on my mind. “Once you choose to stay, you may not go back.”
“And Michael?” I was barely breathing and the words squeaked out of me without much sound.
“He will return. I will send Fiahre to retrieve him and bring him to the Hall of Champions—to Valhalla.”
This time I didn’t look away from the portal playing out the events on Earth. Longinus stood between a shadow and Miri, fighting valiantly—and pointlessly—when I asked, “And Miri?”
Odin sighed and when I glanced at him, he met my gaze. “She will be left to meet her fate; whatever that might be.”
I whipped back. I couldn’t leave Miri to fight this battle alone. She deserved so much better. She deserved Ascension—not an eternity in Hell.
Without looking back I said, “Send me back.”
Odin placed his large, warm hand on my shoulder. “My daughter, you must know . . .” He squeezed until I looked up at him. “I am bound by the Bifrost, by the rules of the Ygdrasyll. Just as in nature, there is a natural order to the World Tree—once you deny Valhalla, you may not enter. Ever.”
Lucy stepped forward and pulled me against her side. “What is it you want, baby?”
“To be forgiven,” I said, before I’d even formed the thought in my mind. “To be loved.”
Lucy smiled. “You have always been loved. Always.” She looked past me to Aaron and the two of them exchanged a glance that made my heart swell. They weren’t broken anymore. They were whole. They were glorious. “And you will never be alone. Aaron and I, baby, we’ll be watching over you. Ya hear?”
I swallowed against the lump of tears working their way up my throat. Unsure I could speak, I nodded, and let the tears flow once more. I knew, now, that I had chosen the path I walked. If I stayed, I could never honor Lucy or Aaron and their love for me. I’d never honor Michael. I couldn’t stand by and leave the battle to others. This path was my destiny. Still, knowing it didn’t stop the tears. Or the worry that I’d still fail.
The Valkyrie sang a song as old as Asgard itself. A song that spoke of victory and hope, of loss and love. The words filled my soul and propelled me forward. I took Heimdall’s outstretched hand. Knowledge of the finality of my choice fell on me like rain. I turned back to look upon Asgard once more. I will be immortal—a Gardian walking on Earth with no way back home, no path to Ascension.
I watched as Lucy and Aaron grew brighter until I had to close my eyes against their brilliance. I returned Odin’s smile with tender affection. And when I met Fiahre’s gaze, she slapped her closed fist over her heart. I would not be alone.
I felt the cold embrace of the Door as Heimdall led me to it. I felt the press of Lucy’s kiss, heard the whisper of Aaron’s voice telling me to Remember, as they leapt from the Bridge. I watched them take their places among the stars, so I could find them in the night sky.
And when I Remembered I felt no pain, only sweetness. I Remembered Aaron, Lucy and James, Miri and Michael—all the people I loved and who loved me. And I knew it was enough.
I was enough.
chapter thirty-three
S
trong, rough hands.
Rushing breath.
A scream.
My scream.
“Ahhh!” I lurched forward, my forehead smacking into Longinus’ chin.
“Desolation.” He leaned back, running a hand over his head. “I thought perhaps you were afraid to return to battle.” For a moment his hard blue eyes bore into me and I squirmed under his gaze. But then the corner of his lips twitched and his eyes took on a surprising but unmistakable twinkle.
“Wasn’t I dead?”
But Longinus shrugged. I guess when you’ve been coming back to life for centuries, seeing someone come back from the dead is no big thing.
“Oh, Desi,” Cornelius said, hurrying to me. We were in one of Daniel’s cabanas, rain and thunder clamoring around us.
I craned my neck, trying to look above, around, behind—through—Longinus and Cornelius. “Where’s Miri?” I fixed Knowles with my gaze—compelled him to answer me.
He said nothing.
I struggled to my feet with the help of Longinus’ outstretched hand. “I thought I saw you fighting a Shadow—you didn’t let it get her, did you?” I asked Longinus. Then fear crept up my spine and something like foreboding rang in my heart.
“And where is Michael?”
“He . . . Akaros . . .” Cornelius wrung his hands—which didn’t fill me with confidence.
Longinus put his hand on my shoulder. This was more human expression than I’d ever glimpsed in the man before, all packed into the space of less than a minute. His hard blue eyes turned soft with care.
“He is not here.” Longinus looked right at me, and I could see he was determined not to spare my feelings. I nodded for him to continue. “Akaros spoke to him—he claims to have Miri and . . . he said you were dead.”
Dead.
Michael thinks I’m dead. And probably gone to Hell, forever and ever apart from him.
For half a second I stood with my gaze locked with Longinus.
I stepped back from him and looked at these three men who were engaged in the fight against the dark. The battle Odin said I was to be a part of.
