Valkyrie Rising

by Ingrid Paulson

  He put his hands under my elbows, and for a moment I thought he might hold me, comfort me. His arms looked so inviting from where I stood. But his eyes were miles away from me and retreating further by the second. His hands did the same.

  “I’ll meet you on the roof at midnight,” he said, tipping his head like he was listening to something in the distance. “I really should go after Graham. But don’t worry, Ells. It’ll work out.”

  I nodded, allowing myself to believe him. Tuck turned and slipped out the kitchen door and up the stairs, in pursuit of Graham.

  7

  After Tuck left, I stood in the kitchen, staring out the window into the night. I spent the next half hour building up my confidence for one more attempt at talking to Graham, practicing the things I could say to smooth over my harsh words while making it clear that things did still have to change—the middle ground Tuck had mentioned.

  Just as I turned, prepared to mount the stairs in search of Graham, the roar of an approaching engine sliced through the quiet of the kitchen. My eyes flew to the window and the lengthening shadows outside. Headlights licked through the trees like flames. A car was winding up the road toward the turnoff to the house. It shouldn’t have been strange to see a car passing by in the night, sparsely populated though the area might be. But it was. My pulse thundered in my ears as two more sets of lights appeared, sliding into place behind the first.

  “Grandmother?” I called out. “Someone is coming. Cars.”

  She was in the doorway before I’d finished speaking.

  The cars stopped at the base of the driveway. Doors clicked open and closed softly. A feeble attempt at stealth. The headlights twinkled again as the shadows of people crossed the paths of the beams. I counted twelve silhouettes gathering, conferring in the darkness.

  “Get your brother and Tucker,” Grandmother said. “There’s a trapdoor underneath the red area rug in the basement. Get inside until I come for you.”

  “What?” I demanded. Alarming as her reaction should have been, I was outraged that she thought I’d just hide and let her face whoever was down there. Waiting. The jittering in my limbs came roaring back, like my body was spoiling for a fight.

  “There’s no time to explain. Just obey,” my grandmother said, looking me squarely in the eyes. I’d usually question, or at least pause, but something in me switched on, triggered by the changes in my grandmother. She was right. At the moment, she had all the advantages—skill, experience, familiarity with the land, and most important, knowledge of what the threat might be.

  Grandmother flicked a steel-plated light switch next to the door, one I’d somehow never noticed before. Floodlights poured into the yard, lighting the world like the midday sun. Then Grandmother stepped forward, into the night. Her footfalls were even, keeping tempo with an internal rhythm I felt too, vibrating through my bones until my heartbeat settled into place beside it.

  A thought began to form in my mind. A horrible dawning realization that the answer had always been in front of me. What my grandmother knew about the disappearances and why. Because the more I watched her move, with lithe grace and cold confidence, the more she reminded me of Astrid. My thoughts drifted back to the way my grandmother had pronounced Astrid’s name, like she’d said it a thousand times before. Whether those girls were Valkyries or just a renegade group of homicidal supermodels, my grandmother was one of them.

  There was no time to dwell on what that meant, since I was pretty sure that whatever my grandmother was, she wasn’t part of the whole kidnapping scheme. I ran through the house and up the stairs, leaping them three at a time.

  Graham’s door was closed, a ribbon of light peeking out from underneath it. I turned the handle. Rattled the knob. It was locked. My fists pounded the door. “It doesn’t matter if you’re mad at me,” I said in a rush. “Open this door right now.”

  Silence.

  I took two steps back and threw my shoulder into three inches of solid oak. It surrendered without hesitation, splintering the frame.

  “Graham?”

  The room was empty.

  It made no sense. The door was locked from the inside.

  Then I noticed the window was wide open. A cool night breeze led the long white drapes in a moonlight dance across the pine floorboards.

  The necklace Grandmother had given him—with the rune-covered charm identical to the one Kjell had used to ward off Astrid—was discarded on his desk. It was warm to the touch, as if it had spent the last few hours resting on the radiator. Still, I slipped it into my pocket, silently cursing Graham for breaking his promise.

  I don’t remember leaving Graham’s room. The next thing I knew, I was standing in Tuck’s empty bedroom, staring at a bed made up with military precision and neatly folded clothes stacked inside an open suitcase.

  My head felt like it would explode from the pressure—I had to find Graham and Tuck. I stepped into the hallway, wondering where to search next. A slip of white peeked out from beneath my bedroom door—a folded sheet with my name etched across the front in Tucker’s square boy handwriting.

  GRAHAM TOOK OFF. COVER FOR US.

  It was the last thing I needed. The night was full of danger. I could taste it in the air, feel the adrenaline whisking through my veins in response. Astrid was out there. Waiting for her chance to strike. Against us. As were the strangers at the bottom of the driveway, blocking my route to town. And to Graham.

  We had enemies pressing closer on both sides like a vise, and Graham and Tuck were out there in the middle of it, alone, unprotected, and without the faintest idea of the danger they were about to face.

  I ran down the stairs and out the door, moving as silently as I could. Grandmother was at the foot of the driveway, talking to someone, her posture straight, hands dangling loosely at her sides. Her casual stance was deceptive. She was ready for anything, poised for attack.

  She stiffened as I approached, and turned her head to the side just enough to see that it was me. Then she relaxed. I wondered who else she thought it might have been, given that the yard was fenced in on all sides. She was guarding the only opening.

  Two men stood at the boundary of Grandmother’s property, staring up at her. I could sense the others off in the darkness, watching warily. Like sheep eyeing the wolf prowling through the trees in the distance.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you tonight,” Grandmother said in Norwegian. I was surprised by the ease with which I understood her. I comprehended her words like a switch had been flipped in my brain, pouring translations right into my ear.

  “We just want to ask you some questions, Hilda,” the man in front said as his gaze shifted to me. “The whole town is nervous, and I can’t promise they won’t do something rash that we’ll all regret. You see, I can’t guarantee your safety, out here by yourself tonight.”

  “It never occurred to me that you would be either willing or able to do such a thing,” my grandmother replied. “Fortunately I’m not alone. Ellie and I are more than equipped to hold down the fort.” She tilted her head to the side, laughter in her voice. It wasn’t until I looked back at Grandmother’s house that I got the joke. It was fortified indeed, complete with floodlights and painted steel shutters that latched on the inside. Four inches of thick oak secured the front and back doors, and a ten-foot fence surrounded the entire property.

  And there were also the things that couldn’t be seen, including the mysterious trapdoor in the basement that I’d just learned about. I had a feeling that the buckshot and rifle hidden in the closet were just the tip of the iceberg.

  We were hunkering down for a siege, and Graham and Tuck were on the wrong side of the moat.

  “You’ve got two options,” the man said, letting his eyes drift from Grandmother to me. “Come quietly. Or if you don’t, we’re prepared to force you.”

  “Well, when you put it that way, the choice is clear.” Grandmother flashed a smile that made the men in the shadows take a step back, their rubber soles sc
raping against loose rocks. “The second option sounds like much more fun.”

  The leader put his hand on his gun. I wondered if he had any idea how obvious he was, how thickly the fear and self-doubt clung to him.

  “I didn’t pick this fight, gentlemen. The first move is yours,” Grandmother growled. “And the final one, I assure you, will be mine.”

  The leader looked back at his men, as if he’d find reassurances there, when even in the darkness I could feel their muscles tense with apprehension.

  I took a step forward. Grandmother held up one hand and turned her head just enough to catch my eye. “Stay behind me.”

  While Grandmother was distracted, for an instant, the leader made his move. He rushed forward and grabbed her arm, jerking her forward roughly.

  I didn’t see what happened next, even though I was staring right at them. It was so fast, like someone had frozen time and rearranged the world while we stood by, unconscious and unmoving.

  The leader lay flat on his back, ten feet away. Groaning like he’d just been dropped from the sky onto the pavement.

  I was so focused on watching Grandmother, in my awe and pride, that I didn’t notice the figure slinking through the shadows until he grabbed me. The gun in his hand swung around in slow motion until it pointed straight at me. My whole body went rigid with terror as my heartbeat shifted into a sprint, caught somewhere between fight and flight. I couldn’t slow my brain down enough to think through a single course of action, so I ended up standing there, feet frozen to the ground.

  “Now, Hilda,” the man said. “I think we can come to a reasonable compromise here.” The barrel of his gun nuzzled into my spine, stirring the new force inside me fully to life and crushing my fear into oblivion. “We just want to have a chat,” he said. “I’m going to leave with your granddaughter, and I think you’ll want to get in your car and follow.”

  He nudged me forward. Unpleasant as the gun was, digging into my kidney as we took an awkward step forward, I was far more concerned about letting so many minutes slip past while we dealt with this minor irritation.

  “Graham and Tuck snuck out,” I told my grandmother, shifting into English and hoping that would confuse at least a few of the men. “And Kjell disappeared last night. Someone needs to go after them right now. Make sure they’re safe.”

  “I agree,” Grandmother said mildly.

  “Stop talking,” the man hissed, shoving me forward.

  “Which poses the question, Ellie, why are you wasting time?” Grandmother’s eyes met mine. “Handle him. Now.” I didn’t know what she meant. Strong as I felt, I was pretty sure I wasn’t bulletproof, and there was a gun pressed against my vertebrae. Safety off. One twitch of his finger, and I’d be dead. But when I thought about it, a trigger took an awfully long time to pull. It wasn’t just the fraction of an instant it would take his muscles to complete the motion, but the solid seconds of hesitation I knew he’d suffer through. Without even realizing what I was doing, I twisted, bringing up my knee as I turned to face him. A shot exploded through the trees above us, sending birds streaking into the night as the gun flew through the air, disappearing into the shrubs lining the drive.

  Grandmother was at my side in an instant, lifting the attacker off the ground by his collar. “How very bold to cross over into enemy territory,” she said to the man. “Particularly when an old artifact like me doesn’t believe in taking prisoners.” The smile she gave him was wolfish and sure, and reminded me so much of Astrid I took a step back, not entirely sure if I should trust the woman standing in front of me.

  She dropped him, and the man stumbled to keep his balance. When neither of us did a thing to stop him, he turned and ran. While we’d been busy with him, his friends had retrieved their injured leader and were helping him into the backseat of a car. The few who remained clustered around, watching, hesitating, unsure what to do without someone giving orders. Especially after seeing what we were capable of.

  Finally one of them moved into the headlights, his grim features cast in angular shadows. “We’ll be back,” he said. I had to admire how well he controlled the abject terror in his heart.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Grandmother replied. She didn’t pause to watch them climb into their cars and drive away. She was in motion, striding up the driveway toward the house. “We don’t have much time,” she said. “Go into town. Find Graham and Tuck and bring them back here. This house has many secrets that will protect you.” She turned to face me. “If Astrid directly engages you, run. Even if it means leaving them behind. You’re fast.” She flashed me a proud, ferocious smile. “But not fast enough to defend yourself against her. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. At that moment I would have agreed to anything she said.

  “The three of you will stay here until I come for you.” She flicked her wrist, and a long, serrated knife slid out of her sleeve and landed in her palm. She flipped it once, catching the blade and extending the handle toward me.

  “Who are you?” I asked, wondering how many more times she was planning to shock me that night.

  “I’m your grandmother,” she said. “There are just a few things about my past I haven’t told you yet. Things you’re finally getting old enough to understand. Like who and what you really are. Take it.” She was still holding the knife out toward me.

  “I don’t know what to do with this,” I said, accepting it. “Except chop carrots.”

  “You’re deadly with a knife. It’s in your blood.” Grandmother lifted one hand and pressed her index finger to my forehead. “Valkyrie,” she said. It was exactly what Astrid had done to me in the bar. But this time, instead of burning, I was flooded with strength. The word meant something entirely different on my grandmother’s lips. When she said it, it felt like a promise, a tribute to the old ways—to courage and sacrifice. “I left my home fifty years ago. To see the world. To learn,” she said. “And I did. I learned that the world had moved on, had passed us by. And I was at peace with that. But I was the only one who saw it that way. And knowing my friends as I did, I’ve waited here.”

  “Why?” I asked. “For what?”

  “For Odin to awaken,” Grandmother said. “Astrid wouldn’t do this on her own. And Odin won’t give up the old ways without a fight. He’ll try to drag us back into the dark ages. It’s all he understands. I’ve feared this day for longer than you could possibly imagine.”

  At first I wasn’t sure what she meant. But then I thought about what we’d learned in history class. About what the world was like a thousand years ago. When the strong took whatever they could. When justice was subject to interpretation. And minor thefts were punishable with death.

  My eyes widened.

  “I’ll deal with Odin,” she said as we reached the kitchen and she pulled a sword and three small daggers out from underneath the sink. “But I need to leave now, and I need to know you and Graham will be safe.”

  I knew what I had to do next, just as clearly as if she’d said it out loud.

  “I’ll protect Graham and Tuck,” I said. “I won’t fail you.”

  “It’s Graham they’re coming for.” She held my gaze so firmly that it was impossible to look away. “It’s revenge. Tucker is too young to interest Astrid. I should have told you the other day, but you’re still so young yourself—you won’t reach your true strength until you turn eighteen. I’d hoped this summer could be about teaching you these things slowly, but fate pushed my hand. I can’t protect you from this any longer.”

  “I understand,” I said. “We’re stronger together.” I knew it on instinct, remembering the way I’d felt in Astrid’s presence, an ache that we were opposed, even though she terrified me. “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Hunting.”

  Her grin should have made my blood run cold.

  Instead: “Seire,” I said, the phrase bubbling up from someplace deep inside my heart. Be victorious. Another word, a phrase I’d never learned, that had magically planted itself i
n my brain.

  “I always am,” she replied without turning back. “Go. You have a job to do.”

  I’d already wasted far too much time. I had to get to town.

  While my logical self told me to take the car, something primal within me howled that I’d be faster and safer on foot. Invisible. Once the night air filled my lungs, my instincts were honed to a razor-sharp clarity. I could see each leaf on every tree. The wind whispered secrets, carrying to my ears the footfalls of the squirrels and deer in the forest. I could smell the salt in the air and feel the slightest shift in the wind’s direction. Something was happening to me. It was as electrifying as plunging headfirst into ice-cold water—every molecule of my body was alert, awake, and screaming for action.

  I lowered my head and ran, sprinting toward town at a speed I would never have dreamed possible. I was as fast and sleek as an antelope; power rippled through me.

  Within minutes, I reached the outskirts of Main Street and passed silently by the shuttered doors of the hardware store and flower shop. There was a palpable tension in the town. I felt danger against my skin.

  Graham wasn’t at the restaurant we’d been frequenting all week—he was in the bar. I could feel his presence, feel the signature heat of each and every human in that building. Fire raged in my veins. No one would get in my way that night.

  Not even the bouncer, who was the size of Graham. His eyes widened when he saw me jogging down the sidewalk toward the bar. Without hesitating, he pulled something out of his pocket. A cell phone. I couldn’t afford to have him call in the cavalry.

  “You don’t want to do that,” I said. The voice came from my mouth, but it wasn’t my own. It was laced with power and poison. I was speaking Norwegian—a language I’d never bothered to learn came to the tip of my tongue with ease.

  As soon as the words reached his ears, the bouncer’s eyes turned milky as opals and his arm fell slack, letting me pass. I felt a twinge of confused guilt, but Graham’s safety was on the line. I’d save my regret for another day, when I could afford that luxury.