“Except the Sumerians,” I said. “They want all of it.”
Keira nodded and sat on the edge of my bed. “If this turns into a supernatural civil war, we’re all going to lose.”
I took a deep breath and asked, “And Medeina? Did she ever show up?”
“No. What you did with Berstuk… Gavyn, that was incredible.”
I waved her off because it’s not like I’d engaged in some brilliant battle—I’d run from the bastard then seized a small opportunity to stab him while he was disoriented.
“Fine,” she relented. “You never seem to want us making a big deal about what an amazing hero you are, so I won’t. But Russia is still under Medeina’s control, and uprisings are erupting all over the country.”
“Are you seriously going to make me go back to the Kremlin to fight her?” I complained.
She shook her head, and her eyes already told me she was losing hope. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. We can’t fight them all. We’re on our own against a world filled with angry gods, and we’re so badly outnumbered, what’s the point in trying to liberate one area when ten more are falling?”
I sat up and winced from the pain in my left arm, but they’d forced me into this role I’d never wanted, they’d insisted I become a hero willing to die to defend Earth, and now they were giving up? No way. “Keira, I don’t care if we’re outnumbered. I don’t care if I have to fight every god that ever existed. I am not quitting. You don’t want to help me? Go back to Asgard. But this is my home, and I’m going to defend it.”
She smiled at me, but it was still a sad smile as if her heart was breaking and she was trying to get through life while carrying a tremendous burden, weighed down by centuries of pain. She touched my hand again and lowered her eyes. “I knew you were the greatest hero Asgard has ever known. I won’t leave you.”
And I thought we were about to have this wonderful moment, this outpouring of how we really felt about one another, but the hospital door opened and Tyr bounded in, causing Keira to quickly retract her hand and rise from the edge of my bed. So I scowled at the war god and attempted to send telepathic messages along the lines of, “Get lost, asshole,” and “Why are you wearing a Hawaiian shirt?” but apparently, he wasn’t telepathic because he neither got lost nor explained why he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he said.
“You raided Don Ho’s wardrobe?” I guessed.
Tyr blinked at me then said, “Isn’t he dead?”
I gestured toward his shirt. “Apparently not.”
So he just blinked at me again then turned his attention to Keira. “I finally found gods willing to help us.”
“The Greeks changed their minds?” Keira asked. For the first time since I’d woken up, she sounded hopeful.
Tyr shook his head. “No, but not exactly surprising. They’ve always been a selfish lot.”
“Let me guess,” I interjected. “The Polynesians, which explains why you’re paying homage to their pantheon.”
Tyr sighed and grunted at the same time, so I was feeling pretty proud of myself for being able to evoke such a complicated reaction. “Just as Mama Pacha and Inti wanted to get their own gods under control, some of the Egyptians do as well, and—”
“Then why the hell are you sucking up to the Polynesians?” I interrupted.
“Gavyn, shut up about his shirt,” Keira scolded.
Tyr shot me a suspicious glance like he knew I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut, so I decided to prove him wrong even though that was exactly what they wanted. Talk about a Catch-22.
“Ra and Anubis contacted me,” Tyr explained. “They want their rogue gods captured so they can deal with them how they see fit. But if they pull stunts like they did in Phoenix, they don’t hold us accountable for the deaths of any Egyptian god who’s harming or threatening to harm innocent people.”
“So are they actively helping us or not?” I asked.
“In a way, yes,” Tyr answered. “They’re hunting down Menhit and Anhur, and considering how many gods are causing problems, having any help at all is encouraging.”
“But Menhit and Anhur are probably hunting me down,” I argued. “And why are we responsible for cleaning up this supernatural mess even though no Norse gods are involved?”
“The Tuatha Dé are helping us,” Keira reminded me. “Not all gods are turning against mortals.”
“And the Sumerians?” I asked. “What have they been up to?”
Tyr and Keira exchanged a nervous glance and shrugged. “We haven’t heard from them since the battle with Ninurta and his demigods.”
“That can’t be good,” I decided.
They both agreed with me, but apparently, Frey hadn’t called with any news, and given how long it took the CIA to find bin Laden, I wasn’t holding out hope they’d be calling anytime soon. “So what now?” I asked.
“Now,” Tyr said, “we find out just how powerful we really are.”
Gunnr Is a Total Badass
(And the plot with Odin thickens)
The ruins of the farm stretched before me as I searched for my brother and Gunnr. I occasionally heard shouting in the distance, but otherwise, it seemed a wasteland now, blackened and charred and emptied of life. I reached a row of huts where the slaves lived, but they appeared abandoned. Or so I thought. Whimpering from inside surprised me so I carefully pushed the door open to find a boy huddled in the corner of a dark room.
“You’re all right, child,” I said.
He shook with fear so I tried again to reassure him I wouldn’t hurt him. And that’s when he lifted his head and I saw that the child I was talking to was supposed to be dead.
“Havard,” Gunnr said, emerging from the shadows. “Leave this child alone. You’ve come for Finn, so go find him.”
“He’s orphaned now anyway,” I said, trying to stem my anger that Gunnr had disobeyed me. “And he’ll inherit this land and grow up to be just like his father.”
“And have you grown up to be just like your father?” Gunnr demanded.
Her question was biting, and for a moment, I couldn’t respond. But my anger welled within me and I gestured to the boy and said, “You have chosen this child over our friendship. So be it, Gunnr. This won’t be forgotten.”
I turned on my heels and stormed away from them, calling Yngvarr’s name in the hopes he’d found Finn and we could return to Asgard. By the time I found him, I’d become convinced Gunnr had betrayed me, and all of the Valkyries were no better than their father, an untrustworthy god whose commitments meant nothing. Yngvarr listened to me ranting about her betrayal without interrupting then just shrugged and said, “You’ve known Gunnr a long time. Do you really think she intended to insult you, brother?”
“The Valkyries are charged with obeying us war gods in Midgard,” I insisted stubbornly.
“Yes, but we are here on a personal mission. She didn’t accompany us as a Valkyrie to retrieve our fallen heroes but to assist us in finding the brother of your wife.”
“And how is she helping with that?” I cried.
“Havard,” she said, startling me because I hadn’t heard her approaching. When I turned around, I saw she had the boy with her, holding his hand protectively. He stared at me with wide eyes, his face smudged with the soot from the explosion I’d caused. “I’m taking him back to Asgard with me.”
I flinched as if she’d struck me and stammered, “You’re… what?”
“I will raise him myself, and when he’s old enough to return to Midgard, I’ll bring him home. Until then, you won’t harm this child if you value our friendship at all.”
“Gunnr—” I started, but she cut me off.
“I want your word, Havard.”
“I thought I had yours,” I hissed.
But she shook her head and insisted again that she wanted my promise not to harm the child she intended to raise.
When I didn’t respond, Yngvarr asked, “How old are yo
u boy?”
The boy’s wide eyes turned to my brother, and Gunnr’s voice became soft and gentle. “It’s all right. Answer him, Áki.”
“Five,” he said in a voice so small, I had to strain to hear him.
“He’s young enough that his mind hasn’t been polluted by his father,” Yngvarr told me. “Gunnr will teach him our laws, and he won’t violate them. After all, he knows the consequences now.”
Gunnr kept her attention on me, more determined and fiercer than I’d ever seen her. “How do you think Arnbjorg will react when she discovers you wanted this child murdered?”
Honestly, I hadn’t considered that my new bride wouldn’t understand the world of gods and how we handled transgressions against our laws. I glanced at the boy again and waved them off. “Go then. But if he returns to Midgard and violates our rules, I will hold you personally responsible.”
Gunnr lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes just slightly, and when she acknowledged my command, her voice took a hard edge I’d never heard before. “So be it, my lord.”
She led the boy back toward her winged horse, and Yngvarr resumed his search for Finn, already over Gunnr’s decision to bring this mortal child to Asgard to raise as her own. But I couldn’t let it go as easily. “What do you think Odin will say about this child in a Valkyrie’s home? They’re forbidden from having children.”
Yngvarr lifted a shoulder in response, completely unconcerned about Odin’s response or the boy’s fate. “They’re not allowed to have children. She didn’t bear this child, so technically, she hasn’t disobeyed her father.”
“Don’t you think it’s awfully close, though?”
“What do you care, brother?” he laughed. “You wanted the child dead, and a moment ago, you were ready to sever your friendship with her.”
That was true, but with my anger receding, I realized I didn’t really want to terminate my friendship with my favorite of the Valkyries. We’d been through too many battles together, too many adventures. I didn’t understand her reaction here, but I hadn’t lost my respect for her after all.
“We should hurry,” I decided. “I don’t think we should allow her to face Odin’s wrath alone.”
“Probably not,” he agreed. “And we may need to lie for her and claim we supported her decision.”
I grunted in response, but he was right. Odin wouldn’t challenge two powerful war gods, but not one of his daughters was so important to him that he would hesitate to cast her out of Asgard forever. Or worse, she may not survive his punishment.
“There,” Yngvarr said, pointing to a gully at the edge of the wheat fields.
As we neared its edge, we heard the sounds of feet landing in shallow water, the attempts to quietly cross, and the occasional hushed whisper to encourage a speedy escape. These mortals only wanted to live, so I used that to my advantage. “Stop,” I shouted. “We’re only after one thrall, a young man called Finn. Surrender him, and the rest of you are free to do as you please.”
Silence answered me, then more hushed whispers as they deliberated whether or not to surrender the young man we’d come for. Finally, someone said, “My lord, he is here. None of us have knowingly harbored a mortal who’s offended you.”
I peeked into the gully where the slaves had taken refuge and immediately saw the young man they were attempting to push up the bank, hoping that his surrender would spare them from a similar fate as their now deceased owner. Yngvarr reached down and pulled Finn out, and we both looked him over quickly. This boy was clearly related to my wife, but his months of captivity and hard work had made him thin and he looked so much younger than his fifteen years.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked him.
He nodded. “You’re the god who took Arnbjorg away from us.”
“I’m the god who married your sister,” I said. “Which makes you family. We’ve come to bring you home.”
Finn’s mouth opened then closed as if he couldn’t understand what I was telling him. “My lord…” he breathed.
“We should hurry,” I said. “Arnbjorg doesn’t know we’ve come for you, and a friend of ours likely needs our help.”
He nodded and followed us wordlessly, perhaps convinced his liberation was only a dream and he’d soon awaken to find himself back in the squalor he’d been forced into. I helped Finn onto Sigurd, who wasn’t as particular as Magni had been but still seemed to eye me warily as if he couldn’t understand why I’d put a stranger on his back. So I arched an eyebrow at him and told him, “You’ll behave, Sigurd, and treat this boy as you would me.”
Sigurd stamped a foot and whinnied, but that was the extent of his protest. I laughed and patted him gently, then mounted the saddle and we began the long journey back to Asgard.
As soon as we passed through the gates into our world, Arnbjorg called my name and began running toward us. But she must have seen that I wasn’t alone on Sigurd, because she stopped and stared at us as if we were only apparitions, a deception of a cruel mind fast asleep. I dismounted and reached for her. “Love, I couldn’t tell you where we were really going out of fear we’d fail. I couldn’t get your hopes up.”
Her eyes never left her brother who slid off Sigurd somewhat clumsily. He swallowed and took a deep breath. “Arnbjorg,” he said quietly. “You’re well then?”
The spell that had kept her fastened to the ground broke and she threw herself at her brother, wrapping him tightly in her arms as she cried, “I thought you were dead!”
Finn held her just as tightly, and I averted my gaze, wanting to allow my new bride this private moment of reunification of what could possibly be the only blood-relative she had left. After a few minutes, I said, “Can you help him to the palace and see that he gets a good meal? I must find Gunnr and make sure she’s all right.”
Arnbjorg nodded but before I could leave, she turned and threw her arms around me, thanking me for rescuing her brother and begging me to extend my thanks to Yngvarr and Gunnr as well. So I told her that both Yngvarr and Gunnr hadn’t ventured into Midgard on my behalf but hers, that all of Asgard had grown to love her as if she’d always been one of us and one of the most precious of the Aesir at that. But always humble, Arnbjorg refused to accept her adoration among the gods here and wouldn’t allow me to leave until I’d promised to deliver her message.
As I reached Gunnr’s home in Valhalla, I could hear the arguing from within. Odin had already discovered Gunnr’s new ward. I didn’t bother knocking. Odin’s method of confrontation was always an attempt at intimidation, so I wanted to send the message to him I was not now, nor would I ever be, intimidated by him. “All-Father,” I said, my voice icy, “we could hardly leave the child in Midgard after destroying his home and guardians.”
“You should have destroyed him with the others,” Odin barked. “You know this, Havard. Asgard is not an orphanage.”
I glanced at Gunnr who stood defiantly in front of her father, keeping Áki behind her as a clear signal she would defend the boy even at the expense of her own life. “Gunnr has served us faithfully for centuries,” I countered. “And she’s asked for nothing in return. She wanted to spare this child’s life, and I will support her decision to do so, as will Yngvarr. If you harm either of them, we will both consider it an act of aggression against us.”
Odin’s nostrils flared slightly, knowing I was challenging him directly, daring him to react violently. From the doorway, Yngvarr’s voice joined my defense of the Valkyrie who had most likely always had too good a spirit for a world like Asgard. “This child will not interfere with her duties to you,” he told Odin. “And we will help her if necessary. I believe your business here is done now.”
Odin’s single eye flared, but he was no more powerful than me, let alone Yngvarr and me. But his gods so rarely disobeyed him or challenged his commands that he didn’t seem to know how to handle our insubordination. “Keep him then,” he finally told Gunnr. “Just remember you are responsible for every word and action from this child.”
There was a clear, implicit threat in Odin’s words, a signal that he would be searching for any transgression that could justify his revenge. Yngvarr closed the door behind the All-Father, and Gunnr attempted to calm the child she was risking her life to save. Yngvarr took a deep breath and whispered, “I hope we’re doing the right thing, opposing him so openly like this.”
But I only smiled and told him, “Opposing him is the biggest benefit.”
He snickered but watched Gunnr and Áki warily. “We should prepare ourselves for a rebellion, recruit as much support as we can now in case Odin decides he won’t tolerate this.”
We’d tried to speak in hushed tones, but Gunnr overheard anyway and looked up from the floor where she’d knelt beside the small child. She still wore the same determined, stony expression as if, for the first time in her life, she’d discovered a cause for which she would willingly die. “Be discreet about who you approach but seek an alliance with those you trust. But know that you will have every Valkyrie at your side.”
“This could be war then,” I said carefully.
Yngvarr nodded. “Perhaps, brother, it’s time to crown a new king.”
Chapter Nineteen
I’d spent the entire flight back to the States stealing glances in Keira’s direction, and she’d occasionally catch me and ask what the hell had gotten into me now because I’d gone from looking at her like she was the anti-Christ to a starry-eyed adoration like she was Mother Theresa. So I just told her I couldn’t help myself—slaying giant boars obviously made me a bit horny and she was a far better choice than Tyr’s ugly ass.
Tyr snorted and shrugged. “Not exactly my type anyway, Gavyn.”
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