And then Keira and I were alone in a breathtaking city, a tribute to the Norse’s war dead. She pointed to a row of houses near the field where mock battles and the soccer match were taking place and said, “That’s where we live. The Valkyries.”
“You live in Valhalla?” I said.
“Of course. Our whole reason for existing is to bring our heroes home when they die, so why wouldn’t we live here with them?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess I just assumed you lived among the other gods.”
Keira fidgeted with the hem of her shirt like this topic had suddenly made her uncomfortable. “But we’re not gods, Gavyn. We’ve never really belonged in their world or yours. This is the only place I’ve ever felt at peace.”
I looked out at her home again and offered her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “You have a beautiful home, Keira. I mean that.”
“You know, you’re a likable guy when you’re not being a pain in the ass,” she teased.
“So… you never really like me then,” I teased back.
Keira laughed, and I felt kinda awful and very much like the selfish asshole I could definitely be when I realized it was the first time I’d ever seen her really happy. I mean, sure she’d always had a lot on her mind with the Sumerians and all the tragedies they’d been inflicting on us, but I was only just now seeing that part of her always felt out of place, like she was literally trying to exist in a world that was completely hostile and foreign to her.
“Okay, Gunnr,” I said. “You’ve got me here. Show me around.”
“Keira,” she corrected, but she was still smiling, and I found myself thinking I’d do anything to keep it that way, even though that would require me dying.
I let her lead me through Valhalla and was even on my best behavior as she introduced me to other Valkyries, which basically meant I never intentionally embarrassed her. Someone put a sword in my hand and spurred me onto the battlefield where I fought some of Asgard’s best swordsmen. None of them believed me when I told them I’d never even held a sword until ten days ago.
As the sky turned to twilight, the games ended and friends and lovers found each other as they headed toward the giant dining hall. I assumed Keira and I would return to Earth now, but she pulled me along with the crowd, claiming she wanted me to experience all the wonders of Valhalla. But I suspected she was really just reluctant to leave and feel so out of place again.
As we stepped into the hall, I immediately recognized the smell but couldn’t place it—a comforting scent, like rain on asphalt, because it reminded me of home. Tables stretched endlessly through the hall, already filling with the men and women who gathered here every evening, and as soon as they sat down, someone set a bowl and stein on the table in front of them.
“There must be thousands of people in here,” I murmured.
“Yeah,” Keira said. “Every demigod who’s ever died on our behalf. Only the bravest join us here.”
Despite the voices that accompanied those thousands of bodies, the noise inside the hall wasn’t deafening and I could easily hear Keira when she spoke to me. It was as much a mystery as how everybody could be served so quickly. “Here,” she said, pointing to two empty chairs at a table where mostly Valkyries had gathered. I sat across from Heidi and before I could even introduce myself to the Valkyries I hadn’t met yet, a bowl and stein with dark ale in it appeared in front of me. I blinked stupidly at it as if the food would suddenly explain how it got there. Keira mistook my expression for confusion over what I was about to eat.
“Lapskaus,” she explained. “It’s a favorite around here.”
That was the comforting, familiar smell, although I’d never had this particular kind of stew, which looked a lot better than the name implied. But this scent wasn’t from my own memories. I dragged my spoon through the bowl, slightly unsettled by how normal everything in Valhalla already felt, like I was just considering moving to Tampa or something. And for some reason, I thought of Havard and asked, “Where do gods go when they die?”
Keira sipped her ale and shrugged. “Nobody knows. Maybe the same place humans go.”
“So gods aren’t reincarnated or anything,” I said.
“I don’t think so. We have legends about certain people being reborn, but it’s not something we believe happens regularly.” She seemed to sense I didn’t like the idea of rebirth at all and gently touched my arm. “Gavyn, Havard is gone. It’s only his memories haunting you.”
I glanced at her fingers resting on my arm and asked, “Keira, what’s going on between us?”
She quickly moved her hand away from me and shook her head, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Nothing.”
“It’s never been nothing,” I argued.
“That’s exactly what it is,” she insisted. “I don’t want you to feel that way about me.”
I sighed, frustrated and hurt, and pushed my chair away from the table. I was no longer hungry at all. “I’ll be waiting outside. I’m ready to go home.”
Even as I said it, I thought, “But I am home.”
I leaned against the side of the dining hall as the cool night air of Valhalla caressed my skin. Lights from within formed warm swaths across the grass, and from the stables at the far end of the village, I heard a horse neigh. And I remembered.
Havard’s Memory Scars Me for Life
(And I learn I need to kick Yngvarr’s ass)
When Arnbjorg returned, she wouldn’t tell me about Freyja’s party, not even what she and the goddesses had discussed. And although she looked perfectly fine, happy even, I just knew Freyja was up to something and would attempt to ruin our wedding or hurt the woman I loved. “Won’t you even tell me if she discussed our engagement?” I tried again.
“She did,” Arnbjorg said. “They toasted our upcoming wedding and welcomed me to Asgard. Honestly, Havard, you’re acting like she’s conspiring to have us killed.”
“Not killed,” I clarified. “Just unhappy. She’ll have it rain all day for our wedding or—”
But Arnbjorg laughed and cut me off. “Without rain, crops would never grow. If it rains all day, we’ll consider it a sign of the many children we’ll be blessed with. Now go to Ljósálfar with your brother before you drive me crazy with your worrying.”
I smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “We’ll be back in a few days,” I promised. “Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving?”
From the doorway behind me, Yngvarr groaned and said, “Give the poor girl three days without you. It’s a wedding present to her.”
“Don’t tease him like that,” Arnbjorg scolded. “And take care of him, Yngvarr.”
“Always,” he laughed.
I kissed her hand one last time before following my brother to the stables. We’d decided to take one last hunting trip together, hoping that I would soon not have the time for such frivolities. Arnbjorg and I dreamed about having a large family, and once I became a father, I wouldn’t leave them for pastimes, even innocent ones like this. I would always be in Asgard for my wife and children, unlike my own father. And they would never doubt how deeply I loved them.
It had been Yngvarr’s idea to spend a few days in Ljósálfar, one of his favorite realms. Mortals had somehow gotten the idea it was a world populated with elves, but we’d never encountered those creatures anywhere. Still, it was a beautiful land with rolling green hills and thick forests, and we could hunt in the woods and eat roasted venison at night and never be disturbed by another god or mortal.
We walked our horses to the gate where we told Heimdall our intentions and he waved us through. Truthfully, I’d never been clear as to how the same Rainbow Bridge could bring us to different lands, but I assumed it was part of Heimdall’s power over travel and his guardianship of Asgard. Outside the walls, we mounted our stallions and rode across the bridge to Ljósálfar.
A procession of men who looked starved and battle-weary slowed our progress. Most of them didn’t give us a second glance, a
nd I thought, “They won’t survive another fight in this shape.” Sigurd stamped his feet impatiently as we waited for the procession to end. Yngvarr noticed her first, and he motioned to the beautiful redhead who stood on the other side of the retreating army. She wore a sword at her hip and a quiver on her back, but her clothes were pristine as if they’d never seen battle.
“War goddess,” I whispered. “Think she chose the wrong side here?”
“Don’t know,” Yngvarr whispered back. “Their enemy might be in far worse shape.”
The goddess stared across the river of men at us, as if she knew who we were and didn’t like us infringing on her land. As the last man passed, she waited, watching us, and Yngvarr sighed. “I’ll go explain why we’re here.”
But I wasn’t going to let him go alone.
We were careful not to get too close to her, but she never flinched and her feet seemed permanently rooted to the ground. Admittedly, she intimidated me, and I was more than a little envious of her fierce presence. “My lady,” Yngvarr said.
She narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Norse. What are you doing here?”
“We’re only here to hunt.”
“You have your own piece of the world in which to hunt. This is mine.”
“We have no intention of interfering in your affairs,” Yngvarr promised. “And we’ll be gone in a few days.”
She tossed her fiery hair over a shoulder and kept her scrutiny on my brother, which made me nervous. “Who are you?” she finally asked.
“Yngvarr and this is my brother, Havard. And we recognize this is the domain of the Tuatha Dé.”
The goddess’s emerald green eyes flickered briefly toward me before settling on Yngvarr again. “There’s an inn over that hill. You can see the smoke rising from its chimney. I’ll be there tonight. Ask for Badb.”
Yngvarr smiled at the goddess and raised an eyebrow but told her he’d come as she asked then she turned and followed the retreating army without so much as a glance in my direction again. I blinked at her back as my mind scrambled to catch up to the unexpected turn of events. And when it did, I started laughing, so Yngvarr laughed, too. “Brother,” I said, “you’ll leave hearts broken across all nine worlds.”
Yngvarr affected an air of solemnity and insisted, “I have no intention of breaking this beautiful goddess’s heart. She requested my company, and she shall have it.”
“Come on then,” I said. “Let’s hunt before you’re summoned to her bed.”
“Badb,” he said thoughtfully. “You know, I think she has sisters.”
“Have you forgotten I’m getting married next week?”
“But you’re not married yet.”
I rolled my eyes at him and nodded toward the forest. “I am as good as married to her, and I’ll remain faithful for the rest of my life. Now, are we hunting or not?”
We left our stallions by a stream and crept through the woods with our bows, bringing down a magnificent stag that we cleaned and roasted early since Yngvarr was completely serious about meeting Badb at the inn. When I awoke in the morning, I saw him sleeping on the other side of the fire pit and roused him, asking him if she’d been so dissatisfied she wouldn’t even let him stay the night.
“No, you ass,” he muttered, but he smiled even though he cursed me. “The soldiers moved on early this morning, and she went with them. We’re going to meet again tonight if we head in the same direction, so she hardly seems dissatisfied to me.”
“Be careful, brother. A scorned goddess is far more dangerous than a mortal woman,” I warned.
“I have no intention of causing her to hate me.”
“So you won’t break her heart by a refusal to commit?”
“Havard,” he sighed, “if anyone’s heart is in danger, it’s my own.”
I’d never been so glad to see my palace as when I returned from that hunting trip, not because I hadn’t enjoyed myself but simply because of how much I’d missed Arnbjorg. I swept her into my arms and kissed her and she laughed, a magical sound. I didn’t want to let her go, but I had a present for her and had been anxious to give it to her. I pulled the golden torc from my bag and held it out to her.
“We met a goddess while there,” I said. “Yngvarr is quite taken by her. She asked me if I was interested in meeting one of her sisters, so I told her all about you and that my heart and body only belonged to you now. She was so impressed by your bravery that she gave me her torc as a gift for you.”
“A goddess wanted me to have this?” she gasped. Her fingers danced over the golden braids, and I smiled as I watched her. She was still so oblivious to how extraordinary she was.
“Not just any goddess,” I said. “Badb, the most fierce and powerful of the Morrigna, a triune of war goddesses who can strike fear into the hearts of men far faster than I can.”
Arnbjorg smiled mischievously back at me. “Well, no wonder Yngvarr is so enamored with her then.”
I laughed because she was right—Badb was certainly beautiful, but Yngvarr had been most attracted to her strength. Arnbjorg put the torc around her neck and admired it in the mirror for a moment then turned back toward me. “The past few days while you were gone, I regretted not setting your mind at ease regarding Freyja. She’d asked me to keep our conversation private, and I didn’t want to betray her trust.”
I tensed as I waited for Arnbjorg to tell me what despicable words Freyja had thrown her way, but she took my hand and gently squeezed it. “She cannot be my friend, but she has vowed not to be my enemy either. You shouldn’t fear her, Havard. She won’t harm me. The party she held was partly a gesture of peace between us.”
I was certain my expression must have conveyed my confusion, because I felt terribly confused. “But why can’t she be your friend if she’s willing to go through the effort of a party to make peace with you?”
“Havard, do you really not know?”
Apparently not. There were many things I didn’t know, and among them were the motivations of any woman.
“It’s you, Havard. Any injury to me is an injury to you, and she’d never hurt you.”
My mouth fell open, but I couldn’t believe Freyja had any real love for me… could she? Surely, I just intrigued her because I was the only man to turn her down, an ultimate conquest for a goddess used to getting her way. But Arnbjorg had already shared more than she’d ever planned, so I didn’t press her for more information. And really, if I learned Freyja’s feelings were genuine, I’d only pity her, and she wouldn’t want me to. I smiled and kissed her forehead, wanting to ask my brother about this development but not wanting to betray Arnbjorg.
So I would say nothing to him about Freyja’s love for me, even though I feared a goddess in love was far more dangerous than a spiteful one. Because of all the emotions to consume me, only love had driven me to desperation. And only love had driven me to act recklessly, not caring about the casualties along the way.
Chapter Nine
Keira and I had been gone an entire day, giving the Norse and Celtic gods and heroes time to relocate. I stood over Yngvarr as he slept in his new bed, wondering if I was about to get myself killed but not once thinking I should reconsider. I held up the metal tray I’d snatched from the dining room in the lobby and hit it with the serving spoon.
Not surprisingly, Yngvarr leapt from the bed. Also not surprisingly, he already had a sword in his hand in that way only gods could manage. His chest heaved as he looked from my eyes to the tray to my eyes again. “Gavyn… what the hell?”
“That’s what I’m here to ask you,” I snapped. “Why didn’t you warn me about you and Agnes? How could you let me get bowled over by that memory?”
“What memory?” he asked innocently, and for the first time, I wanted to hit him. I genuinely liked this guy, and not because of Havard’s memories but because I liked him, but how could he and Agnes have gone around pretending they didn’t even know each other? And Agnes had insisted she never knew Havard either. She wasn’t only a
witch, she was a lying witch, but really, I assumed most witches were.
“You and Havard,” I said, attempting to remain at least somewhat calm. “You went to some land where people thought elves lived—”
“Ireland?” he interrupted.
“No,” I sighed irritably. “That’s leprechauns.”
“No, Gavyn,” he laughed. “The names for all of our realms except Asgard are actually parts of Europe, the parts of Earth we most often traveled. Midgard is today Sweden and Norway and Ireland was known as Ljósálfar.”
I pointed the serving spoon at him. “That’s it. So you both went hunting there, only you met Agnes—not the old witchy Agnes but the young super-hot one—and y’all hooked up a couple of times. And I was just hanging out in Valhalla minding my own business and had to get knocked on my ass with that memory!”
Yngvarr blinked at me then rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “You’d think I’d remember sleeping with Badb, because her young self is hot. Like crazy hot.”
“And she’s a witch,” I added. But then I realized I really was convinced she was at least part witch, and Yngvarr seemed sincere about not remembering this affair he’d had with her. “And as a witch, I’m willing to bet she could force everyone to forget certain things.”
“You think Badb—”
“Agnes,” I corrected.
He grunted at me but said, “You think Agnes would force us all to forget my brother? But why?”
“Because she’s a witch!” I reiterated, a little louder this time in case he usually woke up deaf.
“Pretty sure she’s just a regular goddess,” he said. “And if she were looking for vengeance against me, forcing me to forget my brother wouldn’t be the way to do it. Since I didn’t know he was gone, I haven’t been able to miss him, you know?”
I reluctantly admitted he had a point but quickly reminded him Agnes was still a witch, so I wasn’t putting anything past her. And then, in an attempt to prove she wasn’t a witch, he grabbed my arm and dragged me to her room. I tried to run away before she could open her door, but the bastard wouldn’t let me go.
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