by Linsey Hall
Twenty minutes later, Ana, Cade, and I met Jude and Hedy in the round room. Also known as the war room, it was where they met when things were dire.
Apparently, I qualified. Or at least, my situation did.
The round room was the oldest part of the castle, where the walls were made of heavy stone and the wooden floors were beaten and scratched. Here, tapestries covered the walls, and sconces glowed golden, but it still had a heavy air to it.
Jude and Hedy already sat at the round table. I’d done my best to wipe the demon blood off my face, but I hadn’t wanted to waste time changing. Demon blood might be gross, but my thirst for answers outweighed the ick-factor.
Cade, Ana, and I joined them at the table. After our kiss in the pub two days ago, I’d told Cade what I was. He’d been impressed, which—I couldn’t lie—I’d totally liked.
“Why did it take so long to have this meeting?” I blurted out. Annoyance—tinged strongly with fear—buzzed in my veins.
“Two days is hardly long.” Jude smiled calmly. “You just found out you were a DragonGod.”
“Two days is long if your magic is devouring itself.”
Jude’s starry blue eyes darkened with understanding, and perhaps even a bit of sadness. “We weren’t expecting your magic to go haywire so quickly.”
“It may be because it is so strong,” Hedy said. “Each power is fighting for dominance and suppressing the others faster than we expected.”
“What do I do?” I asked. If I wanted to stay at the Protectorate, I needed my magic. Not to mention, it felt like hell when it went haywire. Nausea was a constant companion, as was a strong feeling of loss.
“That’s what has taken us days to decide,” Jude said. “We needed to consult a seer and other resources to determine the right course of action. And to determine if our concerns were warranted.”
“And?” Ana asked.
“We’ll start with the Rebel Gods,” Jude said.
“Yes.” I leaned forward, anxious to learn more. The only thing I knew about them was that they had a book with their name on it—in Latin. And a crazy woman with dark magic worked for them, hunting us. “What did you learn?”
“Until now, the Rebel Gods were ancient history, as far as we were concerned. No one has heard from them for hundreds of years. They were an organization that wreaked havoc upon magical populations, stealing and enslaving.”
“For what purpose?” I asked. “Did you figure out what was written in the little book that I found a few days ago?”
“Only the cover was in Latin,” Hedy said. “The rest was in an unknown language. Florian, the ghost librarian, is working on a translation, but he hasn’t found one yet.”
“Dang.” I frowned. “What did you already know about them?”
“We’ve never known what their main goal was,” Jude said. “Maybe power, or wealth. Their motivations were lost to history. But our seer confirms that they are back—returned to the earth for a specific purpose.”
“Hunting us?” I guessed.
Jude inclined her head. “Yes, that could be it. They have shown a marked interest in you. The seer believes that they are a great threat to the Protectorate.”
“The curse last week made that pretty clear,” I said. Their dark magic had threatened to destroy the whole castle.
“It did.” Hedy nodded. “And they were likely after you.”
“So I need to go after them,” I said. “Bring the fight. I don’t like waiting.”
Ana huffed a small laugh beside me, one that clearly said, Ain’t that the truth.
“No, you don’t,” Jude said. “In some cases, your bravery is a boon. In others, you jump too quickly. It has been your greatest weakness during your training. You always win the fight, Bree. Always. But with magic as strong as yours, you must learn to deploy it only when necessary.”
My cheeks heated. But she was right. She’d mentioned this to me before, and I was working on it. But I needed to try harder. I nodded at her.
“Good,” Jude said. “If you want to go after the Rebel Gods, you must conquer the magic inside you. The new powers that you are developing are starting to devour each other, leaving you almost helpless. You must learn how to anchor such strong magic.”
I shifted uncomfortably, hating that word. I wasn’t helpless. I had my sword and speed and guts.
But without my magic…
She was right.
I needed my magic. No question.
That made sense. “But how do I get control of my magic?”
“Unfortunately, we lack the tools to help,” Hedy said. “Yours is an unusual case. We can train you if you have your magic. But if you don’t have it, we can do nothing.
“So we suggest that you go to the Cave of Seers,” Jude said. “Hopefully, one will appear to you and guide you.”
“The Cave of Seers?” I frowned. “What do they do, just hang out there? In a cave?”
Cade chuckled low.
“No.” Jude shook her head. “There are no seers on staff here at the Protectorate. Instead, there is a cave at the base of the sea cliffs. Magic imbues the place. A worthy person can enter, and if they are lucky, a seer will appear to them.”
“All right.” I nodded, liking the sound of this. I’d never met one before, but anyone who could give me advice or directions seemed like a damned good idea.
Hedy consulted her watch, then looked at me. “You still have several hours of daylight left. Long enough to climb down the cliffs. I suggest you get a move on.”
After a quick shower—during which, the Pugs of Destruction watched me from the sink, the toilet, and the trash bin—I met Cade and Ana at the front of the castle.
A cool, late-summer breeze whipped the blond hair back from Ana’s face. Even in August, the highlands were chilly in the evening. In the distance, purple heather stretched across the mountains and the blue sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds.
“Are you ready?” Ana asked.
I zipped up my leather jacket, blocking the breeze. “Definitely. I need answers.”
“You’ll get them,” Cade said. “Come on.”
We followed him toward the cliffs, passing by the stone circle that sparked with magic. So far, I’d avoided the circle, a sense of—I don’t know, heaviness—weighing on me anytime I thought of visiting. There was clearly great magic there—magic that repelled rather than welcomed.
As curious as I might be, I was no dummy. I’d listen to the magic.
The sound of crashing waves grew louder as we neared the edge of the cliffs, and cawing gulls swooped on the air. I hadn’t had much chance to come over here, not with training keeping me busy. And evenings were full of visits to the Whisky and Warlock. It was so novel—and so cool—to have a group of friends. So Ana and I had been sticking to them rather than wandering the cliffs like heroines in a gothic romance.
Late afternoon sunlight glittered on the blue sea, which crashed against the cliff a thousand feet below.
Cade stopped near the edge. I inched closer, peering down at a thin strip of beach.
“There’s a cave down there,” Cade said. “Located in a narrow bay to the left. Climb down the stairs, and you can’t miss it.”
I eyed the jagged little bits of earth that sort of looked like stairs. “Those are the stairs.”
“Aye.” His brow wrinkled. “Be careful.”
I sucked in a ragged breath. “Good thing I’m not afraid of heights.”
Just of inaction. And of losing my magic.
So this would be easy-peasy.
“Seriously, be careful,” Ana said.
“No need to worry.” I gave her a quick hug, then looked at Cade. Now was not the time for a hug. I needed my head clear for this. And we weren’t really at that stage yet. Hugging goodbye was relationship stuff.
We were currently at the staring hotly phase of this thing.
I saluted, then turned and started down the stairs.
I was only about ten feet do
wn, with the ocean wind buffeting me, when I realized that maybe there was a little reason to worry.
These stairs were really more like jutting rocks inching their way down the cliff face. I clung to the stone as I descended, carefully placing each booted foot.
Halfway down, pebbles shifted beneath me. My skin chilled as adrenaline spiked. I scrabbled for a handhold, but I lost my balance.
And fell.
My heart leapt into my throat as I flailed, grasping for the cliff.
All I met was air.
Chapter Two
A scream lodged in my throat as I reached for solid ground. Gravity dragged me down the stairs as the stone cut into my chest and belly.
Finally, I grasped a crevice in the rock, digging my fingertips in. I jerked to a halt, half on and half off the narrow, jagged stairs.
Panting, I clung to the stone, arms shaking and skin chilled with fear. Once my mind had calmed—not much, of course—I scrambled onto the stairs and clung to the stone cliffs. Thank fates, the treads on my boots did a good job of holding onto the rocks.
Why the hell did superhero chicks in movies always wear high heels? What if you had to climb down a mountain cliff to consult some mysterious seers? What then, Hollywood?
I chuckled nervously and shoved the inane thought away. I hadn’t been scared of heights before, but that was changing.
Slowly, I got to my feet and continued down the stairs, keeping a wary eye out for bits of gravel.
Gulls swooped by me, eyeing me with beady black eyes as the wind tore my hair from my ponytail. I flattened myself against the cliff and shouted, “I have no bread. Go fishing!”
The gulls flew off, cawing their displeasure to the wind.
“You and me both, guys.” Why couldn’t the seers hang out in the forest? Or at the Whisky and Warlock?
But then, nothing good ever came easy.
I kept climbing, slowly and steadily, my limbs shaking with the strain. The wind bit at my cheeks, and I focused on it, trying to ignore the danger.
Crashing waves roared as I neared the shore at the bottom. By the time I stumbled onto the stony beach, my heart was pounding and my breath came short.
I took a moment, panting, and enjoyed the sight of the waves. Sparkling blue water rolled against the pebbles, and behind me, the cliffs towered.
“Whew. All right.” I dusted off my hands and set off toward the left, seeking the cove that Cade had mentioned.
I found it quickly—hard to miss on a straight beach—and ducked inside. It was short and narrow, a stream of ocean water flowing back, and I followed it along the slender gravel beach.
Soon, I turned a slight corner, and a massive cave loomed in front of me.
“Holy fates.” I stopped and stared, awed.
The mouth of the cave was at least three hundred feet tall and just as wide. I could see right in. Cracks in the cave’s earthen ceiling allowed light to stream through. Green moss coated the dark stone walls, and the ocean flowed in to form a pool in the middle of the cave. A circle of land surrounded the water.
I hurried into the cave. Magic sparked against my skin, an unfamiliar signature that filled my mind with a calming sense of knowing.
Knowing what exactly, I had no idea. But since this was the Cave of Seers, it made sense. Seers knew stuff. It was kinda what they did.
It was dark in the cave, with a strange carving on the wall that looked like a large head. Planks of wood were scattered around, old and rotten, along with some metal tools flecked with rust.
How had this place once been used? The tools looked really old.
Slowly, I circled the interior of the cave, searching for a seer or a clue or something.
“Just bits of old stuff,” I muttered.
A large rock sat in the middle of the cave, right at the edge of the water, bathed in a pool of sunlight that shined down through a hole in the rock ceiling.
I shrugged and climbed up onto the rock. It looked as promising as anything else.
As soon as I reached the top of the boulder, magic rushed over me, fizzing against my skin like carbonated water. It glowed bright all around me, a golden light that nearly blinded. I fell to my knees, my head spinning.
When my vision cleared, I was no longer in the cave.
A huge tree towered overhead.
No, it wasn’t huge. It was ginormous, humongous, ridiculously giant-sized. So big I couldn’t see the top, and I couldn’t conceive of the circumference. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting as it tried to comprehend.
As far as I could tell, it was as big as the world itself.
Dumbfounded, I searched my surroundings. I no longer sat on the giant rock, but in the middle of a field that butted up to the massive tree.
More than anything, I wanted to fall onto my back and looked up at the huge branches that spread overhead, nearly blocking out the sun that filtered through the leaves in shining beams of light.
Joy and a little bit of fear filled my chest.
Then my gaze landed on a small building at the base of the tree. A wooden longhouse, with a turf roof and wooden beams for sides.
I blinked.
Was the house tiny, or normal sized? The tree threw everything out of scale.
Three women walked out of the house, each wearing a dress of green mist that flowed around them. Their golden hair glinted in the streams of sunlight. Then it turned black, then red.
Something tugged me toward them. I followed, struggling to my feet and hurrying forward.
As I neared, I realized that they weren’t as young as I’d thought. Nor as old.
In fact, it was nearly impossible to tell their age. Images flashed in their eyes—tiny scenes of life. People and places and animals. Wars and parties and people alone in their houses and so much more. I could stare into them forever.
I sucked in a ragged breath and averted my gaze toward their chins.
Safer that way. I didn’t want to spend eternity watching their eyes like they were TVs.
The women were the same size as me, which meant the house wasn’t tiny and the tree really was as insanely big as I’d thought. It’d probably take my whole life to walk around it.
I stopped in front of the three women.
The one on the left spoke. “Welcome, Bree Blackwood.”
“We are the Norns,” said the one in the center.
The Norns. Viking goddesses of fate. Ever since Arach had told me two days ago that I was the Valkyrie DragonGod, magical beneficiary of the Viking god’s magic, I’d done some research.
Some of that included the Norns. And the tree.
My gaze rose to the tree. “Is this Yggdrasil?”
“It is the world tree, yes.”
“And I’m really here?”
The Norn on the right shrugged. “That is up for interpretation. But for now, you are here with us. I am Urðr.”
At first, the word was gibberish. But then it sorted itself out in my mind, a strange magic I’d never felt before. Urðr was Old Norse for “that which became or happened.”
Apparently I could speak Old Norse now. “You represent the past?”
“Yes.” She smiled.
The Norn in the center said, “I am Verðandi.”
It took a moment, but my mind sorted that one out as well. “You’re the present.”
“Well done.”
“And I am Skuld,” said the final Norn.
My mind translated. “That which should become, or that needs to occur.”
“Precisely. You truly are the Valkyrie.” Skuld smiled.
“Yes.” Though I really didn’t feel like it. “I might be inheriting the powers of the Viking gods, but I’m not doing a very good job of holding on to them.”
Urðr nodded. “That is normal. I suppose you would like our help determining your fate and how you should go about fixing your power?”
“Yes, please. Because I have no idea what to do.”
“It won’t be easy,” Skuld said.
“I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“Good.” Verðandi nodded. “Now come.”
They turned and walked toward the tree, leading me toward a well that I hadn’t noticed before. It was small compared to Yggdrasil that I’d never have seen it. Hell, it was a miracle I’d noticed their house. I probably wouldn’t have seen an elephant running at me until I’d felt the ground shake.
“Do you always appear to people who come to the Cave of Seers?” I asked.
“We appear to you because you are of the Vikings,” Verðandi said.
Fair enough.
We stopped by the well, and Skuld began to turn a crank that lowered a bucket down the shaft. I wasn’t sure what they were doing, but I thought I recalled a vague mention of them using a well to help their magic.
Far below the earth, the bucket plopped into the water with a small splash. Then Skuld turned the crank the other way.
Once the bucket was back at the surface, Verðandi pulled it off the hook and placed it on the ground. The three Norns gathered around it and dipped their hands into the water. They murmured to each other, too low for me to hear.
I leaned closer, my heart pounding.
What would they find?
Skuld looked up at me. “You must go to the realm of the Valkyrie and seek your answers.”
“The realm of the Valkyrie?” My stomach jumped. “How am I going to get to the land of the gods?”
Verðandi looked at me. “We will provide you with directions. And the tools you need to get there.”
“But you must go quickly,” Urðr said. “Terrible things happen to those who cannot find an anchor for their magic.”
“I know all about that.” My magic dying on me today had been miserable. I didn’t want any repeats.
“You don’t know,” Urðr said. “Not really. Show her, Skuld.”
Skuld reached for me, her pale, slender hand gleaming with magic.
She touched my arm. Immediately, a sense of emptiness filled me. Death. My soul leaching out of my body. I gasped and doubled over, misery like I’d never known filling every inch of me. I went to my knees, unable to stand.
“This is your future.” Skuld’s voice resonated with darkness. “If you cannot anchor your magic—control your magic—you will lose it forever.”
