The Valkyrie (The Saga of Edda-Earth Book 1)

by Deborah Davitt

  The hormonal flow had altered, she realized. Different types were rising in the bloodstream. She considered manually altering the balance, because it could influence her mood—bodies were odd in that way; she should be completely disparate from her physical shell, but she wasn’t—and then she ran her attention elsewhere, and found the source of the changed hormonal flow. The uterine lining had thickened, appropriate to this time of the month. She’d been maintaining human form more and more in the past year. She’d gotten used to the rhythm and the flow of it, but she’d rarely allowed herself the luxury of staying in the form for a full twenty-four hours. Sleeping in Trennus’ arms.

  But last night . . . something had changed. Lassair realized that her hand had moved, of its own accord, to her belly, and she stood in the middle of the crowded airport, suddenly and completely happy.

  She could sense the spirits enfleshed around her responding to her joy, as her fires rose, and enkindled their own. Dull sparks became brighter. Bright embers became blazes. Colors, suddenly, everywhere, blues and greens and reds and violets, all illuminating the flesh that enshelled them, lighting them up from within like paper lanterns. Emberstone’s dull red blaze, coal in the fire that he was. The spark that was the newcomer woman, sky-blue over sea-blue, directing her attention back at Lassair now.

  Lassair let her head drop back on her neck and simply luxuriated in the response around her. Felt the soul-cord that bound her to Flamesower pulse with his concern. The cord itself, his soul, was the same dappled green and brown as the glow that lit up his enshrouding physical body from within . . . but wisps of orange flame coruscated back and forth along that link between them. Lassair? What is it?

  Nothing’s wrong. Something is . . . wonderful. Lassair opened her body’s eyes, and felt her face smile, even as she realized that light was starting to radiate out of her, though she tried to control it. It tended to make humans stare. We exchanged energies and said each other’s Names and we made something together. She showed him, in a flash. Let him see the ball of cells dividing and dividing once more. You are a progenitor. Does this please you as much as it pleases me? I did not know I could create. Delight. Pure delight, from her, and shock, resonating down the link between them.

  “You’re pregnant?” Trennus said, out loud, and just loudly enough that everyone around them, caught by a sudden bubble of silence and wonder, turned and stared at him. A few whistles even broke through the crowd, some laughter. Trennus appeared largely oblivious to all of that, however.

  Emberstone turned around in line, fully, to stare at them. “What?” The man blinked, his entire essence tightening like a fist. “Let me repeat that. What?”

  Yes. I am. I should have realized. I usually can tell with humans the moment the male’s essence enters the female’s, and they become one. I can only assume that I was distracted when it occurred. Lassair’s tone was teasing. Perhaps it happened when the body slept. I will need to learn to divide my attention between dreams and reality, if I can.

  “But . . . wait. I . . . how?” Trennus sounded dazed. His mind wasn’t keeping up with his emotional reactions, which Lassair interpreted as surprise, incredulity, confusion, joy, and a little fear.

  The usual way, dear one. We completed all the required behaviors. Would you like to review them?

  “But you’ve never been pregnant before!” Trennus clearly was having trouble wrapping his head around this thought. For five years, he’d completely discounted the concept of offspring.

  Lassair paused. Her memory of . . . times before . . . was hazy still. Not that I can remember. I think . . . perhaps because I didn’t de-manifest . . . oh. Horror. If I de-manifest now . . . will it go away with my body? She blinked, rapidly. I can’t risk that. I will require a plane ticket.

  Emberstone put a hand over his face, as if that could conceal his incredulity and exasperation, and said, under his breath, “You have got to be fucking kidding me. You knocked up a spirit, Tren? World’s most agile swimmers, is all I’m saying.” He shook his head. “Better you than me, though. Come on. Move. We’re holding up the line and attracting stares.” He nudged the woman with the sky-and-indigo spirit, who was still staring at them both, ahead in the line now.

  Tren, clearly still staggered, wrapped an arm around Lassair’s body, every gesture tentative right now, as if he thought he could damage her, in some way. You’re really sure?

  Yes. Look! The cells just divided again. Oh, it’s so cute.

  . . . yes, but a ball of cells isn’t really . . . I mean . . . most people don’t even announce till the third month, because so much can go wrong . . . Trennus’ mind spun, and she could feel it, a hundred disjointed thoughts at once. It . . . nothing’s wrong with it, is there?

  Hmm? Oh, no. I’m reading its life-pattern now. It’s a little different than I would have thought it would be. Possibly because this body is manufactured, and I based its life-pattern on an amalgam of females I have encountered that I admire for strength or beauty. Stormborn’s life-pattern comprises some of it. The summoner in the place of darkness, where the alu hunted? Some of her. It changes, day to day. And some of it . . . I chained the helix together in patterns I thought pretty, like beads on a string, and lit it from within with my own fire. The child is not quite human, no. But it is wondrous, nonetheless.

  Oh . . . gods. Shock reverberated off him, like a plucked string. But . . . it’s healthy?

  Absolutely. Oh, and it’ll be a girl. That, as a total aside. Do you think she’ll look like me when she grows up?

  Trennus stopped in mid-stride, thus almost falling. Oh, do calm down. You have at least nine months to get used to the idea. Though I might be able to adjust that. Lassair caught his arm to stabilize him, and smiled radiantly at the woman behind the counter. Hello. I need a ticket.

  The woman’s jaw dropped, and shock, surprise, and desire radiated out of her. “I . . . do you have a driver’s license?”

  No.

  “Do you have a passport?” Helpless flailing now.

  No.

  Emberstone put a hand over his eyes for a moment. Trennus cleared his throat and replied, “She, ah, doesn’t need one. She’s traveling with us. Same as Dr. Sasaki here. Praetorian business.” He produced a flattened piece of metal with sigils on it—sigils that the mortals perceived as binding, though they were meaningless to Lassair—and the woman behind the counter stared at it for a long moment.

  “I’ll at least need her name for the passenger manifest.”

  I’m not telling you my Name. We’ve only just met.

  Lassair was, in truth, mostly teasing Trennus at this point. Her mortal beloved cleared his throat and said, “Asha. Asha, ah, Matrugena.”

  Oh, I get one of your Names!

  Well . . . we’re sort of married, right? Rapid-fire calculation at the back of his head. Soul-bonded. Close enough. And . . . apparently having a child. That was what was required to formalize a marriage in some cultures, back in the day. It didn’t count till someone got knocked up . . . .

  Well, then I suppose we’re married, then. Lassair nodded peaceably at the woman behind the counter. This is my consort. I am travelling with him. Please provide me a ticket.

  The woman reached numbly down under the counter and ripped a ticket free, and began filling it out, by hand, recording the information in a series of ledgers. After a few moments, she handed it to Lassair, mumbling, “Have a nice flight.”

  Oh, thank you. This is my first time flying. Well, in one of your metal cages.

  Emberstone and the newcomer woman preceded them onto the plane. Lassair was aware of the woman’s fascination with her, but a great deal of it seemed to be the interest of a scientist with an intriguing case study. She kept trying to ask Emberstone questions, but he seemed intent on not answering. Lassair debated, briefly, telling the woman that one-way bargains never worked, and that if she wanted information from Emberstone, she should give some in return . . . but mortals liked to decide things for themselves. Advice, s
ometimes, they’d accept, but telling them what to do? Seemed wrong. Besides . . . they’d probably just go and do the opposite, anyway. Telling them that their spirits resonated with each other’s, like a plucked string stirring the echo of the same note from another instrument in the same room would probably do no good, either.

  It was like the old scholar, in a way. Lassair still felt guilty that his spark had gone out . . . but they’d told him not to leave the room. But he had, anyway, and while she could have been awake to stop him, her body had been . . . busy, apparently. And humans have to be free to choose, or . . . they wouldn’t be humans, would they? It was something to consider, at any rate.

  Aboard the plane, Lassair settled into the chair beside Trennus, and beamed at him. He looked sufficiently distracted, that as the plane rose from the ground, that he didn’t almost even react to the fact that they were now in the air, and not at all on the ground. He still held her hand, however, his fingers locking down a little more tightly every time they hit a little turbulence. But he just stared into space as the drinks cart came by, and Lassair eagerly accepted a small paper sack filled with dried cranberries, almonds, and tiny pieces of Nahautl chocolate, bitter and sweet at once, closing her eyes in appreciation of the flavors. Energy flow. I may have to eat more often, she realized, suddenly. My body might be sustainable by pure energy normally, but the infant may need more nutrients.

  . . . Yes. Probably calcium. Proteins.

  You’re not happy about this?

  . . . I’m confused and I don’t know how I even feel, he admitted. On the one hand, it’s . . . clearly happened before in human history. His mind raced for a moment. Sargon of Akkad, he thought, reaching back into his mind for distant history lessons. His mother was a . . . lilitu of the deserts, I think? One of the type of spirit normally associated with darkness, sex, and the drawing of blood and life?

  Humans always want to make us sound evil. Lassair squeezed his hand, and poured more of the snack into her mouth. She was ravenous, suddenly. All spirits require energy exchanges. I remember people used to give me animal blood in the fires, but I didn’t really like that. I liked it when they exchanged their life-essences much better. I remember that much.

  Yes, but . . . the lilitu are supposed to be malevolent.

  They’ll retaliate if they’re injured. They like fertility, as I do. In the ground, in humans, in animals. But everything has a price.

  Sex and blood. Death and fertility.

  Always.

  Not you. I don’t see a lot of death in you.

  No one’s really provoked me in years, and I couldn’t retaliate against . . . him. A wash of coldness, and her inner fires flickered. He knew my Name. Someone . . . someone must have given it to him. I don’t know who. But if I ever find out? Lassair looked up at Trennus, her eyes wide. I don’t think I’ll wait for you to unName him or her. I’m strong enough now that I think I would end that person, myself. And I would probably enjoy it. She looked around. Do you suppose they might give me another bag of those delicious—oh, thank you! That, as Trennus absently handed her his own, untouched snack. It’s a good thing I realized early. What if I hadn’t eaten for a week or two . . . no. you always make sure you feed me when I manifest. Lassair carefully ate another almond. Different types of energies had different textures for her, different sensations as she absorbed them. These equated, roughly, to sight, smell, and sound. But none of them had flavor. Taste was so decadently organic. What’s on the other hand?

  What do you mean?

  You said ‘on the one hand, it’s happened before.’ What’s on the other hand?

  She could read confusion in him. Distress and happiness, at the same time. He’d ruled out the notion of a family, on choosing to associate himself with her as he had. He’d wanted children, but he could accept a life without them. But the suddenness . . . humans, for all that they inhabited time, seemed to need a great deal of it to grapple with new thoughts and change. Now, Trennus reached over, and put his arm lightly over her shoulders, and nuzzled his face into her hair. “I suppose I’m going to need to look for a house after all. That apartment isn’t going to be nearly big enough for two of us and a baby.” Amusement, and still a little unease. Not quite fear, but . . . something akin to it.

  “Can I ask the two of you to pay some attention to work matters?” Emberstone asked, turning around from the row ahead of them, where he sat beside the sky-and-indigo woman.

  “Yes,” Trennus replied, but didn’t lift his arm from Lassair’s shoulders. “Absolutely. Please.”

  ___________________

  The flight from Lutetia to Rome was relatively short, only about four hours, and Minori had found herself between the Carthaginian technomancer and the window for the entirety of it. She’d tried to ask him a few questions, worded cautiously, about the spirit currently manifesting as an incredibly beautiful human woman seated behind them, only to be brushed off with a “That’s between them,” or a “Why don’t you ask her that?”

  Truthfully, Minori didn’t quite dare. Asha—if that was her actual Name—was so beautiful that she took Minori’s breath away, and she was clearly a kami. Kami were to be treated with the utmost respect. Even though the conversation earlier had filled her with raging curiosity.

  They were met at the airport by two other Praetorians, one Hellene, and one Nahautl, who cut through the crowd to reach them. Wrist-clasps were followed by an extended conversation, held mostly above the level of her head, on the topic of what to do with her. Minori was more than a little irked to be discussed as if she were baggage, but listened quietly for the moment as the new Praetorians offered to take her to a safe-house apparently usually reserved for spies and informants. Eshmunazar actually shook his head at that. “No. She’s not leaving our sight till we’ve seen the propraetor and gotten her some long-term protection arranged.”

  Minori looked up, tempted to ask if she had any say in these arrangements, but realized, before opening her mouth, that really, she’d just look childish and sound stupid if she said the words. No, she didn’t have a say in this. She’d somehow stumbled into something much bigger than she’d thought in her research, and either these two lictors were trying to silence her . . . or trying to protect her. She thought it was more likely the latter, but she was watching them, very carefully indeed. Making sure her defenses were up, not just from unexpected outside attacks, but readied against them, as well. She’d had plenty of time in that silent flight to observe that Eshmunazar hadn’t actually been reading the book in front of him, but had been watching the passengers around them. Standing guard, while Matrugena and the spirit had . . . worked out their odd life issues. And then Matrugena had taken over for a while, allowing Eshmunazar to close his eyes for the second half of the flight.

  “I could take her back to my place,” Matrugena offered.

  Minori’s eyes widened, and she flicked a glance at Asha, and then quickly away again. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d do if she found herself alone with the spirit. Probably embarrass herself, utterly. Possibly by babbling in an undignified manner.

  “You two need alone time at the moment,” Eshmunazar replied, his expression tight. “Believe me, I remember the days well.” There was a harsh note there that Minori didn’t understand. “Doctor? You’re with me. Don’t worry about your reputation. We’ll have chaperones.”

  Quietly seething at his tone, and surrounded by him and the two new Praetorians, Minori had settled into the car for a trip through Rome—staring, a little wide-eyed, like a tourist, at all the marble-facaded buildings, gleaming and white, until she settled a mask of neutrality back on her face. They wound up at a tall apartment building and headed upstairs, with one of the Praetorians staying down in the lobby, and the other stopping off on the same floor as them, but staying in the small elevator and stairwell access lobby. “I’ll start walking the building,” the Hellene man said, and moved off as Eshmunazar pulled her down a long, narrow hall, lined with doors, while hauling the sma
ll cart packed with boxes of books and notes behind them with his mind. He’s keeping one hand free, she realized, distantly. Even here, he’s on edge. What did my research uncover that is this bad?

  Minori wasn’t sure what she was expecting. The Carthaginian hadn’t said two words to her the entire trip, and now unlocked the door in silence, before calling in, “I’m home!”

  She certainly hadn’t expected two boys to explode out of nowhere, shouting “Father!” and then slam into the technomancer at full speed, babbling in a mix of Latin and some other language she couldn’t identify. An actual smile from Eshmunazar as he crouched down to speak with his sons, and return their hugs. It completely changed his face. An older woman—steel gray hair and a set of lenses perched on her nose—appeared and reached out to take some of their bags. “Master Eshmunazar, it’s good to have you back so soon,” the . . . housekeeper? . . . said, smiling. “The boys have done well with their lessons. And there are letters on your desk. One post-marked Numidia.”

  His face closed down again. “I’ll read those later. Himi! Bodi! We have a guest. Show me your manners and greet her.” He turned back and said, with polite distance, “Doctor Minori Sasaki, these are Himilico and Bodeshmun. My sons. Their pedagogue, Bellatrix Mellinari. Everyone, this is Doctor Sasaki. She’ll be staying with us until we can get her a safe place to live. Hopefully, no longer than tomorrow. Bellatrix, you can leave. I’ll make up the guest bed. No need for you to strain your back.”

  “Thank you, sir. It’s been a long day, I don’t mind saying.” The pedagogue gathered her things, and headed out the door, as the two boys stared at Minori in unabashed interest. They had darker skin than their father, and lively brown eyes, but they mostly had his facial features, and dark, wavy hair.

  “Are you a doctor like our mother?” the older one asked, looking over his shoulder for where his father was, and adding the last in a hushed tone, as Minori stood, a little awkwardly, in the small dining area, and Eshmunazar threw sheets on a couch that folded out into a bed in the living room.