Valkyrie Rising

by Ingrid Paulson

  “If I refuse?”

  “You won’t.” All at once he was in front of me. He extended one hand and cupped my cheek. “Because there’s no other way. It’s what the townspeople want. You love your family and would do anything to keep them safe. It really is best for everyone. But if these stakes aren’t high enough to motivate you, I’m happy to keep increasing them. Mother is in Italy, correct? No reason for her to miss out on all the fun.” His angelic smile made his words so much more disturbing.

  “Is that some sort of threat?” I tried to stand my ground, but my confidence faltered.

  “No,” he said, “it’s a promise.”

  I knew I had no choice but to do as he said. Plus it wasn’t like I had a better idea. There was an undeniable, brutal logic to what Loki proposed. It was the last resort for everyone. Still, the violent voice in my head was howling for Loki’s blood, appalled that I was letting him push me around. Until another, more reasonable, tactical side of me weighed in. Cool and collected. Let Loki think he can use me. It would buy me time to come up with a way to get rid of him.

  “Fine,” I said, squeezing my eyelids shut.

  I turned to leave, wanting nothing more than to get away from Loki and his sneering smile.

  “One more thing, Elsa,” he said, catching my arm. His fingers felt like they’d been carved from ice, and I shook them off, recoiling from the cold as much as from his touch. “When the smoke clears, you will deliver Odin to me.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?” I demanded. “Last time I checked, he was a god.”

  “And so am I,” he said. “Don’t fail me.”

  The threat was all too clear, as was the impossibility of what Loki had just demanded I do.

  “It breaks my heart to see you so dejected,” he continued. “You mean so much to me, Ellie. I’ve waited a thousand years for a shot like this at Odin, and almost as long for a chance to train up my own baby Valkyrie. Look at what a wonderful team we make already. Just think of how we’ll shine together after a few centuries.”

  The words made me shudder. And doubled my determination to find a way to shake Loki off my jugular. There was no way I’d let him turn me into his favorite new pet. He’d have to kill me first.

  14

  As I left the bar and stepped out into weak light of the streetlamps, my head was reeling from everything I’d just learned. I could see the shape of Margit huddled over her steering wheel. Three other cars had parked behind her, and the passengers were peering out their windows, wide-eyed, like visitors at one of those drive-through zoos. Never in my life had I felt so alone. No Tuck, no Graham. No one to stand by my side if Margit and her friends suddenly changed their minds and turned on me.

  Because like Loki said, I would need them on my side in order to save Graham and Tuck and everyone else. Even if I felt anxious and inadequate, I couldn’t let Margit and the others know. I needed to be confident.

  Margit stepped out of her car. “What happened in there?” she asked. “Did they really take Tucker?”

  “Weren’t you listening?” I asked. Then I remembered and pulled the small radio out of my pocket. It was damaged beyond repair. “Astrid knocked me out. Hit me over the head with a gun.”

  I expected a look of suspicion. After all, Astrid had left me behind, barely injured, while she’d skated away with two more boys. There was no way Margit could know that my head still felt like hell. But instead Margit frowned, and something that could almost be sympathy shone in her eyes. “We found this in the middle of the road. I’m sorry your plan didn’t work.” She handed me the transponder I’d hidden under Astrid’s car. It had been wrenched from its hiding place and crushed like a soda can. “I bet we’ll find them before dawn,” Margit said, actually putting a hand on my back to soothe me. “If they’re out there, we’ll track them down.” She inclined her head toward the massive radio crackling away in the passenger seat of her car.

  “We don’t have to find them anymore.” My voice held an authority that I still didn’t quite feel. “I know where they are,” I added. “I need to talk to the people in charge of your … whatever it is, your network.”

  “No one’s really in charge,” Margit said slowly. “We just sort of call the contacts we have, then they call their contacts—anyone they know who wants to help. It’s not like we had an emergency plan in place for psychotic Valkyrie attacks.”

  I ignored the jab as my fragile confidence deflated. I would need to mobilize a group of people who were even more disorganized than I’d imagined. Had I really once been afraid of these people? Was I really prepared to endanger their lives? Because even with only a couple of weeks to work with, you could bet Astrid and Odin had trained those kidnapped boys far better than the force I’d be leading. That didn’t count the other soldiers they had—the ones with centuries of experience.

  I couldn’t let Margit hear my doubt. Confidence had a magic all its own, as Tuck had shown me hourly.

  “I need you to call your contacts and spread a message,” I said.

  Margit narrowed her eyes. “What kind of message?”

  I looked out across the fjord, toward the twinkling lights of Skavøpoll. The road through town filled my mind’s eye, shifting in and out of focus, the way the world looked when I was young and tried on my father’s half-inch-thick glasses. There were two roads in Skavøpoll, superimposed, one upon the other. I’d started to glimpse this when I’d followed Astrid, but now I could sense it so clearly. The second road was stripped bare of the shops and houses I’d come to know. Instead it was thickly wooded and untouched, the way the world must have looked in the aeons before human habitation.

  There was something special about Skavøpoll—a reason my grandmother had stayed there all those years. It was a pathway, a portal to somewhere else. My grandmother’s fortified house was a watchtower on the living side.

  “What kind of message?” Margit repeated, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “To come,” I said. “To gather in Skavøpoll an hour before dawn. Everyone you’ve made contact with and everyone they’ve made contact with. Anyone with a vested interest in getting their loved ones back.”

  “Why?” Margit asked. “You said we need to find the boys before dawn. That would mean interrupting our surveillance. We can’t afford the risk.”

  “Yes, we can,” I said, surprised by the genuine command rippling through each word. “Because this ends now. On our terms. We’re taking the Valkyries down.”

  At that, Margit’s eyes grew bigger than the moon. I could hear the wheels spinning in her mind. I could taste her fear and hesitation.

  So I reached deep inside myself, to the part that wanted so much to be as ferocious and invincible as Astrid, but as poised and righteous as my grandmother.

  I blended it all together into something that was just me. Ellie.

  “Something happened to me tonight, in the bar. I know where Astrid has taken them. I’m going after them. But I can’t do it alone. We need as many people as we can get—we’ll be facing an army. The people we’re trying to rescue may very well be the soldiers who challenge us. They’re under Astrid’s control.”

  Margit was silent for a long moment, considering. “What if the Vals just hypnotize us all, too?”

  I handed her the slip of paper Tuck had given me and watched as she unfolded it.

  “It’s from an opposing faction of Valkyries. Astrid’s enemy. It represents protection. It’ll keep everyone safe.”

  “This is what Tucker gave you?” she asked. There was open curiosity in Margit’s eyes as she looked up from the slip of paper back at me. “I wondered about that part when I heard it on the radio. And about what Astrid said. I didn’t understand—but then …” Her words trailed off when she took in my expression, and I seriously hoped she couldn’t see how much I wanted to bury my face in my pillow like the girl I’d been three days ago. That wouldn’t exactly instill faith in my ability to start a war. I wasn’t ready to talk about Tuck.


  “Thank you” was all she said. It was strange how much changed in that moment. Hate melting away entirely, giving way to trust.

  “Make sure everyone carries it. So Astrid can’t turn them against us, too. The best bet is to draw it straight on their skin. Not a limb. A place that can’t be removed without killing them.” My heart ached as I repeated Tucker’s instructions. Making me wonder again about all the other secrets he hadn’t had a chance to tell me.

  Margit nodded, and I listened as she explained the plan to the others, the people who waited patiently in the cars idling behind hers. Cell phones and wireless radios were activated, sending our call for help out across the fjord, to all the people waiting and watching in the surrounding towns.

  THE APPROACHING DAWN was painting the night sky in pinks and greens when I finally walked down the main street through town, heading toward the water. It was a permanent reminder of Loki’s deadline, looming overhead.

  It seemed too quiet, and I worried that Margit’s call for help had failed, or worse, no one had any intention of following a sixteen-year-old girl on some crazy rescue mission.

  Then I heard the voices. Like a crowd of people had just dropped from the sky into downtown Skavøpoll. Cars lined the street, double-parked, trapping one another in a mosaic of painted metal. Some had pulled right up onto the docks, perching precariously next to the deserted fishing trawlers. Even the fishermen had forgone their morning catch in order to gather in the streets of Skavøpoll with everyone else.

  My relief at the sight of so many evaporated when they slowly turned, one by one, to look at me. Hundreds of expectant faces. Watching. Whispering to their neighbors. Words like Valkyrie and Odin and Hilda Overholt riddled my ears. They were gathered in the street in a loose crowd, spread across the street, under shop awnings and around the benches in front of the bank. It was odd to see such an assortment of people pulled together by one cause. A burly fisherman stood next to the elegant woman who ran the high-end clothing shop. I recognized the mayor and the waitress who’d served us at the restaurant.

  They were all waiting for me to do something—to lead them. And that thought made me want to laugh and cry and crawl under the nearest bench to die.

  I squared my shoulders anyway and continued walking, letting my gaze settle over them all, coming to a stop when Loki’s wicked grin curled the lips of a paunchy middle-aged man. He gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up before melting back into the rest of the crowd. That nudge of goading was all it took to bring my determination roaring back. I’d get Graham and the others back, and then I’d show Loki what happens when you try to manipulate me.

  At the center of town, Margit met me.

  “Incredible,” I told her. “I had no idea you’d get so many people to come.”

  “They’re all angry. Ready to do something about it.” She gave me a wry smile, like she knew I was nervous and it made her like me a bit more. “Are you?”

  I nodded as I surveyed the town. We were all focused together on this single task. An infusion of strength and bravery, pure and true, radiated out from them, and I magnified their energy and sent it back twice as strong.

  We were ready. At least, as ready as we could be.

  I walked to the far side of town, where I’d sensed the parting between the worlds. Eyes latched onto me and shoes shuffled along the asphalt as people followed, drawing together. Sven led a group of kids I recognized from town as they wove through the crowd to reach the front.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, willing the second road to appear. I pictured the empty road unfurling in front of me, wooded and winding its way through the world of the dead.

  “Knock, knock, Astrid,” I whispered. A tentative smile of victory curled my lips as I felt the breeze from another world whispering through my hair. I opened my eyes.

  Instead of the deserted road I’d expected, Astrid was there. Five feet away. Flanked by ten Valkyries, five on each side.

  I jumped back, falling over and scrambling away on my hands, trying to get the space to maneuver.

  “What is it? Are you okay?” Margit asked, dropping to her knees beside me. But she didn’t have to wait for my explanation. Astrid stepped forward. To the rest of the world, she had appeared out of thin air. All alone. Only I could see that she’d brought backup. The other Valkyries remained just across the threshold of another world.

  Astrid’s eyes brushed impatiently across the faces in the assembled crowd before coming to a stop on mine.

  “I’m afraid this will be a short-lived rebellion,” she said. Her fur-trimmed boots were centered on the yellow traffic paint separating the road into two narrow lanes. “Disassemble your little pets and send them home. Or we’ll do it for you.”

  She lifted one arm into the air. I winced, bracing myself for a blow. But it was just a signal, inviting the others to join her, crooking her finger above all our heads with enough flair that all of Skavøpoll got a front-row seat.

  The other Valkyries stepped forward all at once, timing their appearance with a blinding flash of sunlight as it broke over the mountains—as if they needed anything to make their entrance more dramatic. Murmurs of shock and fear rippled through the crowd behind me, punctuated by a shrill voice screaming, “Run!” I couldn’t blame them for being scared. Never in my life had I seen anything as awe-inspiring or terrifying as Astrid’s squad in their full military splendor. Holstered guns strapped to slender limbs, vigilant snipers’ eyes scanning the town through long Bambi lashes.

  They were dressed alike, all in black, with the same fur-trimmed leather boots—the soles were heavy enough to serve as weapons in their own right. But that was where the resemblance ended. Each Valkyrie was unique, with varying shades of hair and skin and height.

  “Oh, shit,” Margit whispered, retreating to stand behind me. Like I’d be able to protect either of us. Yet nothing could have more aptly articulated the terror raging through the fishermen and shopkeepers who’d been stupid enough to put their faith in me. All courage and hope vaporized on contact, with the earth-shattering, annihilating finality of a nuclear explosion.

  But just as the panic threatened to carry me off to its cave, another presence asserted itself in my mind. The violent voice was back. Only this time it was commanding me forward with cold, brutal logic. Because it was too late to back out now. We’d never get a second chance. The desperation in the people who followed me tore into my heart, but then I realized it was because they didn’t know what to do next. They wanted to stay, they wanted to press forward and risk everything. But they were scared. They needed reassurance and an infusion of strength. They needed a leader.

  Me.

  “Stand your ground.” I pushed my voice until it cracked, needing it to wash over the farthest reaches of the crowd. “Remember who is at stake. Picture his face. Know that we’re bringing them all back.” And then I did something even I didn’t expect. My voice turned to ice as I added, “The Vals don’t believe in what they’re doing anyway. They won’t stop us.”

  Astrid’s eyes flashed with a rage so hot it would melt a diamond, but I stared her right back down.

  “You won’t,” I said, realizing the truth of it as the words skipped across my tongue. “Why else would you keep letting me live? I think part of you is relieved I’m here.”

  A few wisps of newly minted courage drifted back to me on the breeze. So I stood up straighter, taking a step toward Astrid and ignoring the thunderclaps of my beating heart.

  “I’m afraid we’re not open for visitors,” Astrid said coolly, belying the fury I could feel radiating from her skin. Her lips twisted into a brittle smile as they drifted over the townspeople. “And there was a reason we left these people behind. They’re useless. Our discards. What an utter cruelty to give them this false hope. You know I can’t let you pass.”

  Her words triggered a ripple of jeers and protests. The crowd behind me pressed closer, drawn forward by the danger we now shared. Even the stragglers who’d watc
hed from shop doorways or car windows now approached, joining the mob. The old lady from the bakery lifted her cane into the air and shook it at Astrid. She was fully ready to slam it into Astrid’s toes just like she had mine. I never would have dreamed she’d be standing behind me one day, ready to fight.

  “Can’t?” I replicated Astrid’s tone of pure scorn. “You can do whatever you want, Astrid. It’s time to stop blaming Odin for your choices.”

  My imminent demise flashed across Astrid’s face.

  Her hand exploded into my peripheral vision, moving toward me, only I saw the blow coming this time. And I was ready. My forearm flew up, almost of its own volition, colliding with Astrid. For a moment, we stood there, locked in a contest of brute strength, until Astrid’s lips curled into a slow smile and she took one long step back, away from me.

  “What do you think would happen if I stepped aside? Do you really plan to lead this herd of fishermen against Odin? On his own turf?” Astrid’s voice drifted over the crowd, echoing off the shops and through the deserted side streets of Skavøpoll.

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t just step aside,” I said, surprising myself as the pieces of my plan finally slid completely together. “I was hoping you would join us.”

  The words dangled in the air between us like they were strung up on a gallows.

  “No!” a man shouted. “Are you insane?” The shout echoed down the street, followed by a few catcalls.

  “Elsa is right, Astrid,” a familiar voice said. “She’s doing what you should have done. Standing up to Odin.”

  The words came from a statuesque, blond-haired Valkyrie who stepped forward, appearing all at once, like the others had, in the middle of the street.

  It took me shamefully long to recognize my grandmother. And when I did, I stared in openmouthed disbelief. A hush fell over the crowd as they placed her too. Even those from other towns had at least glimpsed her over the years, the beautiful, eccentric old lady from Skavøpoll. Only now she was half a century younger than when I’d last seen her. Her hair was a pale blond; all traces of silver were gone. The few wrinkles that had once framed her eyes and lined her forehead had disappeared without a trace.