by Kate O'Hearn
‘She would,’ Eir said. ‘After all the harsh things I have said to her, all the demands of loyalty to Odin I have placed upon her, she will betray them. And when she does, it will mean my brother’s life!’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Freya and Archie remained at the top of the mountain all afternoon. Jonquil whinnied constantly, trying to break free so she could go to Brünnhilde.
‘She must be close,’ Orus commented as he perched on a boulder, watching the Reaping Mare.
‘Sylt is the same with you,’ Archie commented. He was stroking the mare to calm her. ‘This is so freaky.’ He combed his fingers through her black mane. ‘I can touch Jonquil, but I can’t pick up a tiny rock.’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ Freya offered. She rose and walked up to the edge of the cliff. A strong wind was picking up and whipping her hair back. Freya lifted her head, closed her eyes and opened her arms and wings. Standing on her toes, she savoured the sensations of the wind blowing through her feathers.
‘What are you doing?’ Archie asked.
Freya looked back at him. ‘Wind dancing. It helps me relax. There is something special about the wind. It calls to me and makes me want to leap off the cliff and take to the sky.’
‘But you can do that anyway.’
‘I know,’ Freya said. ‘But this feels so good.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.’
Freya smiled. ‘That’s because you don’t have wings.’
Freya continued wind dancing until the sun started to dip on the western horizon. When it had faded completely, Orus took to the air. ‘Come on, you two, we don’t have all night!’
Freya helped Archie climb back up on to Jonquil and untied the reins. As soon as she was free, the Reaping Mare opened her wings and leaped off the top of the mountain.
Freya did the same and followed closely behind the mare. The moon was rising and shone its light down on the dense woodland below.
‘Jonquil, slow down!’ Archie fought to stay on her back.
Nothing was going to stop the Reaping Mare from returning to Brünnhilde. They soared lower over a beautiful, moonlit valley. To her left, Freya saw a massive three-storey house. Lights gave the home a warm, welcoming glow. Freya could smell horses and other animals and saw large barns close by.
They glided silently over the barns and Freya sensed the presence of a being. They continued ahead until Freya saw a flat wooden platform rising high in the air. A lone figure was standing at the top. It was a woman, with her head thrown back and arms open to the wind.
Jonquil started to circle the platform, neighing uncontrollably.
‘Jon?’ the woman called. ‘Is that you, my Jon?’
She spun round, trying to follow the sounds of the Reaping Mare, but she turned too quickly and lost her balance.
‘Brundi, be careful!’ a raven cawed, trying to stop the woman from falling.
‘No!’ Freya howled. Throwing down her new coat, she tucked in her wings and dived at the platform. Landing hard, she caught the woman just as she fell over the side.
‘I’ve got you!’ Freya said as relief washed over her. ‘You’re safe.’
The woman turned. Even in the darkness, Freya could see her mother’s face in the older woman. The only difference was her eyes. This woman’s were white with blindness.
‘Brünnhilde?’
The woman was breathing heavily as the large raven landed on her shoulder.
‘I have not gone by that name in a very long time.’ She reached out and felt Freya’s face, then shoulders. Finally her shaking hands went down to the wings on Freya’s back. ‘Valkyrie?’
‘Yes. I’m Freya. What are you doing up here?’
‘I may have lost my wings, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wind dance. It is one of the few pleasures I have left.’ Her expression hardened. ‘Is Odin here? Has he finally come to apologize for what he did to me?’
‘No. But I’ve come to find you with my raven and my friend – and, of course, Jonquil. She led us to you.’
‘Jonquil, where is she?’ Brünnhilde tilted her head to the side to listen for her horse.
‘She’s on the ground with a dead boy,’ the raven said.
‘That’s Archie,’ Freya corrected. ‘Please come down. Your Reaping Mare has missed you.’
When Freya offered to help, the woman swatted her hand away. ‘I don’t need a Valkyrie’s help. I have managed quite well by myself.’
Azrael was right. Brünnhilde had become bitter over the years of banishment. Freya stepped aside and her grandmother walked confidently to an opening in the floor of the platform where a ladder led to the ground.
Freya leaped off the side and glided down to follow.
‘Go easy on her, Freya,’ Orus warned as he settled on her shoulder. ‘She has lost so much. No matter what she says, don’t lose your temper.’
Before Brünnhilde was even halfway down the ladder, Jonquil raced over to meet her. She pawed at the ground, waiting for Brünnhilde to reach the bottom.
‘Is she OK?’ Archie asked.
Freya shook her head and spoke softly. ‘She’s very bitter. This isn’t going to be easy.’
They stood back and watched the reunion between the older Valkyrie and her Reaping Mare.
‘How long have they been apart?’ Archie asked.
‘I don’t really know,’ Freya answered. ‘It must be thousands of Midgard years.’ She felt her throat tighten at the waves of joy emanating from her grandmother as she held Jonquil.
When Brünnhilde stepped away from the mare she called for Freya.
‘I’m still here,’ Freya responded, approaching the older Valkyrie. ‘I have something else for you. I think you should drink it before we talk.’
‘What is it?’ Brünnhilde demanded as Freya put the glass vial in her hands. ‘What new punishment is this?’
‘It’s not a punishment. It’s a gift from Frigg. She says that Odin’s damage to your eyes isn’t permanent. If you drink this, your sight will be restored.’
Brünnhilde shook her head. ‘I don’t want it. I’ve got along fine without my sight. I don’t need it now and I refuse to be in debt to Frigg.’
‘Please,’ Freya said. ‘This valley and these mountains are beautiful. Don’t you want to see them?’
‘I know they’re beautiful. I can smell them. That’s enough for me.’
‘If not the mountains, don’t you want to see your granddaughters?’ Archie asked.
Brünnhilde inhaled sharply. ‘What are you talking about, boy?’
‘Archie, no,’ Freya whispered. ‘Not yet.’
‘Freya is your granddaughter,’ Orus blurted out. ‘The daughter of your only daughter.’
‘My daughter?’
‘Yes, it’s true,’ Freya said. ‘Please, drink the medicine so we can talk properly.’
‘How do I know this is not a trick?’ the old woman demanded.
‘Drink it, Brundi,’ her raven said. ‘She’s telling you the truth. I can see Freya. She looks very much like Mims. They could be sisters.’
‘Mims?’ Archie asked. ‘Is that your other granddaughter?’
Brünnhilde’s hand shot up to her mouth. ‘You know about Mims? Does Odin know I have a human granddaughter?’
‘Not yet,’ Freya said. ‘But your Midgard granddaughter isn’t human. She’s a Valkyrie, just like me and you. Please, trust me and drink.’
‘What else do you know?’ Brünnhilde demanded.
‘Everything,’ Freya said. ‘Including the fact that your son’s wife is going to have another child. But this time it will be a boy – and he has wings.’
Brünnhilde whispered, ‘How can you know all this?’
‘Drink and we’ll tell you,’ Freya promised.
Brünnhilde’s hands shook as she felt for the stopper at the top of the vial. She pulled it out, brought the vial to her lips and took a long draught of the liquid. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she started to collapse.
Freya caught her before she hit the ground. She lay her down carefully and looked up at Archie in alarm. ‘Frigg didn’t say this would happen.’
Brünnhilde’s raven settled on the older woman’s chest. ‘Healing potions always do this. She is safe. When she wakes, her eyes will be restored. Before she does, tell me, child, is Brundi in danger?’
Freya knelt before her grandmother. ‘We all are. We’re in terrible danger that could lead to war in the realms.’
The raven checked on Brünnhilde, examining her closed eyes and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. ‘It’s Azrael, isn’t it? Odin has discovered what he did for us.’
Freya inhaled sharply. ‘You know about Azrael?’
‘Brundi was blind and powerless after Odin’s punishment,’ the raven said. ‘But I could see it was him. He disguised himself as an elder, but he couldn’t hide from me.’
‘Did you tell her?’ Archie asked.
The raven cawed. ‘There was no point. She had suffered enough already. I wasn’t about to tell her that, on top of everything, she owed a debt to an Angel of Death. Now, tell me, what has happened?’
‘I think we should wait to tell Brünnhilde,’ Freya said. ‘But we’re not to mention Azrael. He thinks it would upset her too much.’
‘Brundi, not Brünnhilde,’ the raven corrected. ‘She never uses her true name any more. It reminds her too much of what she’s lost. Just as I have changed my name. You may call me Pym.’
Freya nodded. ‘In Midgard I use the name Greta.’
‘I’m just Archie.’ Archie shrugged.
Orus cawed and cleared his throat.
‘And this is Orus,’ Freya introduced her raven.
On the ground, Brundi began to stir. They watched in silence as she opened her eyes. The white was gone. Her healed eyes were the same arctic blue as Freya’s mother’s and slowly focusing on what was around her. ‘I can see!’ She sat up. ‘Pym, I can truly see!’
The older Valkyrie reached for her raven and gave him a tight hug. ‘My old friend, you’re just as handsome as I remember! You haven’t changed a bit.’
The raven cawed. ‘That’s not completely true. I have a few white feathers now.’ He opened his large wings to show three white flight feathers on each wing.
Freya helped her grandmother climb to her feet. When the older woman’s eyes settled on her, she asked, ‘Are you truly my granddaughter?’
Freya nodded. ‘I am. And I have four sisters.’
‘Your mother, what did they call her?’ Brundi said sadly.
‘Eir,’ Freya answered.
‘Is she happy? Has she had a good life?’
Freya nodded. ‘She is the head of the Valkyries and is greatly respected in Asgard.’
A shadow crossed Brundi’s face. ‘Does she know what happened to me?’
‘I think so,’ Freya said. ‘But she has never spoken of it. I could tell from her reaction to Odin’s command that I find you.’
‘Odin sent you here?’ Pym asked. ‘Why?’
‘Gran!’ A new voice sounded in the distance. ‘It’s time to come in for dinner!’
‘That’s Mims,’ Brundi hushed them. ‘You are welcome to join us for dinner, but you must hide your wings. No one knows the truth about me or where I come from.’
‘But she must be told,’ Freya insisted. ‘She will have reaping powers soon.’
‘Mims is human!’ Brundi insisted. ‘I don’t want her to be part of my old life.’
‘Denying the truth won’t change it,’ Archie tried. ‘She’s a Valkyrie. You must tell her before she accidentally kills someone with her touch.’
‘You are wrong!’ Brundi glared at them. ‘Now, hide your wings or fly away from here, I don’t care which. But you will not reveal yourself. Do you understand me?’
‘Put on your coat,’ Orus suggested. ‘We can talk later.’
Freya retrieved her coat and pulled it on over her wings. ‘What are you going to tell her about Jonquil and Archie?’ she asked Brundi.
‘Mims will understand.’
‘About a ghost and a flying horse?’ Archie asked.
‘She is human,’ Brundi repeated. ‘Only those of us from the other realms can see the dead. She won’t be able to see you.’ She paused and frowned at Archie. ‘Why are you here with Freya? You should have ascended or remained at Valhalla.’
‘Archie is my friend,’ Freya retorted. ‘He protected me from Dark Searchers – they were hunting me down in Chicago.’
‘There were Searchers in Chicago?’ Brundi cried. ‘Let me guess . . . the disaster there last year. Did that have anything to do with you? They said it was a terrorist attack, but people claimed to have seen monsters and a dragon tearing through the city.’
‘It wasn’t terrorists,’ Orus explained. ‘It was Odin, Thor and the Midgard serpent.’
‘Jormungand was back in Midgard? I knew there was more to it!’
Freya nodded but before she had a chance to explain further, Mims had appeared. She was almost as old as Freya and bore a striking resemblance to her. They had the same sharp nose and sculpted eyes, and looked more like sisters than cousins. Her hair was dark, however, not like other Valkyries, who were always blonde.
‘Gran?’ She halted when she saw her grandmother had company. Her eyes momentarily settled on Archie. She frowned, then looked back to her grandmother. ‘Gran, Mom sent me to get you . . .’ She stopped. ‘What’s happened to your eyes?’
‘They’ve been healed . . .’ the older Valkyrie said as she gazed upon her granddaughter for the very first time. She smiled. ‘My sweet little girl, you are just as beautiful as I always imagined you.’
‘I – I don’t understand,’ Mims stuttered. ‘How can you see?’
‘I know this will seem impossible, but I brought medicine for Brundi’s eyes.’ Freya took a step towards her and raised her hand in a half-wave. ‘I’m your cousin, Greta.’
‘But I don’t have a cousin,’ Mims said.
Brundi caught her by the hands. ‘Actually, you do. Greta is the daughter of your father’s twin sister. They were separated at birth. Greta has only just found me.’
‘Dad has a sister?’
‘Yes, though your father doesn’t know about her,’ Brundi said. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever see my daughter again, so I never told him he had a twin.’
‘Hi, Mims,’ Archie said, not giving Mims any time to process this bombshell. ‘I’m a friend of Greta’s. This is a cool place you live in.’
Mims’ mouth hung open as she stared at Archie. ‘What the . . . ? You – you’re fuzzy around the edges. What’s wrong with you? You’re not like the others . . .’
‘Take his hand,’ Freya suggested. ‘See if you can touch him.’
Mims looked scared, but allowed Archie to take her hand. There was no doubt about it – if she could touch him, she was a Valkyrie.
‘No,’ Brundi hushed as she put her hands on Mims’ shoulder and turned her to face her. ‘No, no . . . ’ she began to moan.
‘Gran, what’s wrong?’
The older Valkyrie looked to Freya.
‘I told you,’ Freya said to Brundi. ‘She’s one of us and you know what that means when she reaches maturity.’
‘One of who?’ Mims insisted. ‘Who are you?’
‘I think it’s time we told her,’ Pym advised.
‘Pym can talk?’ Mims cried, staring in disbelief at the raven on her grandmother’s shoulder.
The raven cawed, ‘Yes, child, I have always been able to, but Brundi forbade me to speak in front of you.’
Mims started to back away. ‘Gran, what’s happening here?’ She bumped into Jonquil and turned around. ‘But . . . It’s . . . it’s got wings!’ She staggered backwards and fell to the ground.
Brundi knelt down to her granddaughter and her voice grew stern. ‘Mims, look at me. Stop being so foolish. There is nothing to be frightened of. Jonquil is mine. I haven’t seen her in many, many years. But your cousin Greta brought he
r to me.’
Mims’ wild eyes were looking at everyone. ‘From where?’
Freya opened her mouth to speak, but her grandmother held up a warning hand. ‘From very far away,’ Brundi finished. ‘Now, I need you to be brave. We can’t put Jonquil in the stables – someone will see her. Let’s move her to a shed. No one ever goes there. Then we’ll go into the house and act like everything is normal. We don’t want to upset your mother, not in her condition.’
‘But what about when she sees it?’ Mims pointed a shaking finger at Archie.
‘I’m not an it – my name is Archie!’ He looked back at Freya. ‘Why is it so hard for everyone to say my name?’
‘Your mother won’t be able to see him,’ Brundi said. ‘Neither will any of the others.’
‘But what’s wrong with him?’
Archie grinned. ‘Well, if you must know, I’m a little bit dead.’
‘Actually, you’re a lot dead!’ Orus cried, cawing in laughter.
‘You can talk too!’ Mims cried.
‘Of course. And if you had your own companion, he’d talk as well.’
‘Orus, that’s enough,’ Brundi warned. She turned back to Mims. ‘Yes, my beloved, Archie is a ghost, but he won’t hurt you. Have you ever seen others like him?’
Mims nodded weakly. ‘But not exactly like him. They weren’t so clear – they were more like floating clouds. Archie almost looks real.’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘I’ve never told anyone because I thought you’d think I was crazy.’
‘I wish you had told me,’ Brundi said. ‘On my side of the family, we see the dead. Your father can too. We both thought it best if we didn’t mention it to your mother. We had hoped that you wouldn’t be able to.’
‘I’ve always seen them, even when I was small. I thought something was wrong with me.’
Brundi brushed back a lock of her granddaughter’s long dark hair. ‘There’s not a thing wrong with you. You’re my perfect girl. And you’re brave. So we’re all going to go in and act like nothing has changed. I’ll tell everyone that Greta and Orus have come for a visit. We don’t have to mention Archie or Jonquil.’
‘Brundi, we really need to talk,’ Freya warned. ‘Now more than ever.’
‘I know,’ her grandmother snapped. ‘But not now. I need time to think.’
