Valkyrie Rising

by Ingrid Paulson

  “Where’d you get that?” I demanded, reaching toward the necklace but remembering at the last moment that I shouldn’t touch it.

  “Astrid kept one—she wanted to figure out what it was. Your grandmother managed to pass it to me on the inside. It seemed her mutiny was well under way by the time I arrived.”

  “What were you thinking, getting yourself taken?” I demanded as we lowered Graham to the ground, propping him up against the side of the building.

  “Not sure I was thinking anything.” He shrugged, trying to fake his usual casual confidence, but the eyes that met mine were full of apology. “I had nothing to lose except you. And it seemed like the best way to keep you safe.”

  I reached up and touched his face, still surprised I was allowed to do that now. “Use your sweatshirt to put pressure on that,” I said, my eyes dropping to his injured arm.

  Graham groaned, rubbing his forehead.

  “Something tells me he’s gonna wake up with a headache worse than my homecoming hangover.” Tuck flashed a shy half smile. “You don’t hate me?”

  “Remains to be seen.” But I let my smile give him the real answer as I straightened back up, knowing it was way past time to return to Astrid and the others. “You owe me a couple dozen explanations.”

  Tuck ducked his head in assent, his hands still resting on Graham’s shoulders, just in case. The silver disk hanging from Graham’s neck sparkled in the sunlight—a reminder of how very complicated our friendship, or whatever it was, had become.

  “And a proper first date,” I added, angling for one of his smiles. And it worked. I turned, feeling the pull of my Valkyrie sisters, needing me, needing two more hands to help hold back the onslaught that threatened to engulf us all.

  “I have to go,” I said to Tuck. “Keep an eye on Graham.”

  Tuck started to object, but his voice was drowned in the shouting coming from the street behind us. Twenty feet away, Astrid and my grandmother were standing back to back, surrounded by a wall of soldiers they were fending off with their bare hands. Astrid swept her leg behind the one in the middle. He fell and landed on his wrist with a crunch of broken bone. Astrid was visibly fed up with holding herself back when victory could be ours so easily. I was disturbed to discover that part of me could relate. But that wasn’t our only point in common; judging by her actions, Astrid also shared my aversion to harming innocent people, a realization that made me like her a little bit more.

  The pull to join Astrid and Grandmother was undeniable. My feet carried me forward, drawn by an impulse as basic as breathing.

  But even as I raced forward, I realized that holding Odin back indefinitely was hardly a solution. We needed to break Odin’s hold over those boys. And over us.

  According to Loki, the symbol on Graham’s necklace was the name of the Morrigan, the Valkyrie who had left us and withdrawn from our collective consciousness forever. The symbol blocked our Valkyrie magic from reaching her, just like it protected Graham from our influence.

  If the runes on the necklace worked like that—if they could break the circuit of energy that bound us all together—then maybe we could use it to block Odin and his constant pull on our energy. And without our Valkyrie power to augment his own, he’d never be able to control so many soldiers. I could sense it, the way he drained the energy that flowed between the Valkyries in order to enforce his own will.

  I turned and pressed back through the churning crowd toward Tucker, sidestepping a car door that one of the Valkyries must have ripped off and hurled into the middle of the road. I dropped to the ground at Tuck’s side.

  “Give me that necklace,” I said.

  Tuck’s forehead creased. “Graham needs it.”

  “There are a lot of other people here who need it too. Trust me.” When Tuck didn’t move, I added, “Just do what you did to yourself—draw the symbols on Graham’s skin. After all, that’s what’s important, not the necklace.”

  Tuck hesitated before sliding it back over Graham’s head and handing it to me. Graham’s eyes opened, focusing uncertainly on each of us before closing again. They were still confused, but at least they weren’t milky white.

  The chain reflected the sun’s thin morning rays as it pooled on my palm, followed by the metal disk carved with three runes. But the instant the metal touched my skin, white-hot pain shot down my arm. On reflex, I jerked my hand away and sent the necklace tumbling to the ground. It felt like I’d just plunged my fingers into boiling water.

  “What’s wrong?” Tuck grabbed my wrist. The edge of the metal disk had burned my skin, leaving an angry red crescent mark that settled into a throbbing scar.

  As the pain faded, I realized Loki wasn’t exaggerating about the Morrigan’s power. For the fraction of an instant the necklace had settled on my skin, the current that had connected me to the other Valkyries had flickered and dimmed, threatening to abandon me forever.

  In the middle of the churning mass of soldiers, Astrid had stopped fighting. She stood stock-still, staring at me. A body slammed into her from the side, and she blocked the assault absently with one elbow, never breaking our locked gaze. She’d felt my absence. But then I saw the glimmer of realization, her blue eyes widening as she pieced together what had just happened.

  “Ellie!” My grandmother’s voice was frantic as she pushed through the crowd, running toward me. “Behind you.”

  I pulled my sleeve down over my hand and grabbed the necklace from its resting place on the muddy ground. As I straightened, the mist that had swirled around Odin was suddenly thick in my throat, depositing Odin right behind me. His eye burned into me like a red-hot coal, matching the heat from the necklace in my hand, which was scalding me through my shirt.

  “Once again you have my undivided attention.” Odin’s voice was soft but deadly, like a snake’s warning hiss. “Do you really think you can hide from me?”

  As clever as Odin thought he was, he didn’t fully grasp the implications of what I’d just done. Hiding was hardly my plan.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  Odin’s hand flew out, fast as a bolt of lightning. I tried to duck aside, already knowing it was futile. Fast as I was, Odin was far faster. He caught my throat in one hand and lifted me off the ground. The lack of oxygen slowed my thoughts until I almost forgot the details of my plan and surrendered to panic.

  My eyes found Tuck. His eyes were wide, and his mouth opened to scream something. I clawed and thrashed against Odin’s grip, trying to pry his hands loose enough that I could sneak in one last breath. I needed to steel myself against the grizzliness of what I was about to do. The sweet little Ellie who’d hidden during her brother’s birthday party would never have done such a thing.

  I lifted my sleeve-covered hand and pressed the burning-hot contents against Odin’s forehead. And I held it there. The flat surface of the medallion pressed into Odin’s skin. I would have sworn my hand was on fire if I couldn’t see for myself that it wasn’t. The metal scalded my skin through the fabric of my sleeve. His eye widened in shock, the iris a blue so pale it almost disappeared into the white around it. A howl of pain and anger roared from his open mouth. His grip on me slackened, and I sucked in as much air as my lungs would hold. There was no telling how long this respite would last.

  Odin knocked the necklace out of my hand, sending it clattering down the street. But it was too late. There in the middle of his forehead were the raised runes from the necklace, seared into Odin’s skin. The marks were surrounded by a red circle, the outline of the metal charm.

  The scar on his skin deepened into an angry red welt.

  “What have you done?” Odin growled. The shuffles and crashes of fighting slowed and finally crawled to a stop. Shouts echoed through the streets, but they weren’t the cries of despair or panic. They were the celebratory whoops of victory.

  “She separated you from your Valkyries,” Astrid said, smug satisfaction in every word. “Let’s see how long you stand without us to prop you up.”

/>   “This doesn’t matter,” he snapped back, still rubbing the scar on his forehead. “You belong to me even if I let you pretend otherwise. Get the troops back in formation. We’re not finished with this town.”

  Astrid visibly vacillated. The tide could just as easily turn back on us if Astrid switched sides again. I found myself wondering what I’d do in her place. Would I be strong enough to defy a powerful god I’d obeyed for three thousand years when I could barely stand up to my own brother?

  “No.” The world hung in space between them. Odin’s eye widened in surprise before narrowing dangerously. He had really believed Astrid would come back to him. “I’m through taking orders,” Astrid snarled, finality in every syllable. “From you or from anyone. From now on, I decide what’s right.”

  Grandmother stepped forward. “Let Ellie go, Odin.” She flashed a wolfish smile that I found myself returning. Because if Odin refused, I was pretty sure the two of us could make him cooperate. “Unless, of course, you think you can face all of us.”

  Twelve Valkyries stood in an uneven line, squaring off against Odin. I curled my fingers around Odin’s wrist and slowly, millimeter by millimeter, pried his hand off my throat.

  “This isn’t over.” Odin’s fingers traced the runes as his other hand struggled to keep its hold around my throat. “Revenge requires patience, Elsa. That is how Odin always prevails.” The words had barely reached my ears before Odin hurled me to the ground. Four ribs and my left wrist shattered on impact. But nothing hurt like the bonfire raging in my right hand. I pulled back the sleeve of my sweatshirt and had to peel the cloth away from the raw skin beneath. My palm was red and blistered, and the circular edge of the amulet was seared into the skin between my thumb and index finger.

  Even as my body set to work knitting the broken bones back together, I knew the burn marks on my hand would never heal.

  Some scars are permanent.

  By the time I managed to lift my half-healed self off the pavement to sit up, Odin was gone. A solitary ribbon of mist curled through the space he had just occupied.

  Silence had settled back over Skavøpoll. The quiet was so complete, I could hear the waves lapping against the docks. Followed by hesitant whispers in the crowd. An instant earlier, the town had been locked in a battle to the death. But time seemed to have stood still the moment Odin had lost his power.

  One by one, the people behind us rushed forward, embracing their kidnapped sons, who looked around in confusion, like they’d just emerged from a dream and weren’t entirely sure why they were in the middle of the street. A lump grew in my throat as I watched Margit punch a groggy Kjell playfully in the shoulder, making him stagger a step to keep his balance. Then she took two more steps and crushed her brother in her arms. I knew exactly how she felt—the heart-swelling relief of finally having her brother back.

  “We seem to be making a habit of this,” Tuck said, helping me to my feet, like he had so many times over the past few days. Except now he wasn’t alone.

  A hand closed gently around my injured wrist, and I winced.

  “Ellie?” Graham’s voice was scratchy, like he’d just woken up. “When did you get here? Did Grandmother send you?” His blue eyes widened in horror, and for a moment I thought he was remembering everything that had happened. But then he added, “She knows we snuck out?” He shook his head, looking down at his shoes. “It doesn’t matter. I’m glad you came. I’ll never sleep tonight if we’re still fighting.”

  A laugh bubbled up inside me. Graham was stuck back in time, on the big fight we’d had the night Astrid had taken him.

  “How did we get here?” he asked, looking around, wide-eyed as a newborn colt. “What time is it?” His gaze found Grandmother, and a spark of recognition fought its way across his synapses.

  “Don’t look so surprised, Graham,” Grandmother said, taking in his stupefied expression when her voice came from the lips of that siren. She gave me a sly smile. “You must have noticed that there’s something simply extraordinary about the women in your family.”

  “Grandmother is a Valkyrie,” I clarified. “And so am I.” Direct seemed the best approach, especially since Graham was still pretty out of it.

  “Like out of the myths?” He laughed nervously, like he was already anticipating whatever punch line was waiting. But his forehead furrowed. The events that had just transpired were fighting their way forward in his mind, clamoring for recognition.

  “Yes.”

  Graham opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fish.

  “The first new Valkyrie in a thousand years.” The voice stopped me in my tracks. In my relief and happiness at driving off Odin, I’d forgotten all about Loki. Unfortunately, my memory lapse wasn’t mutual.

  “You’re brave to show any of your faces here, Loki.” Astrid moved to stand in front of us.

  “Thank you.” A smile curled Loki’s lips. “But it’s not particularly brave to show up for a fight you’ve already won.” His eyes found mine, and he winked. “You’ve done beautifully, Elsa. Exceeded my expectations. Even I didn’t think of branding Odin. Your only mistake was letting him escape.”

  “Mistake?” Astrid glared at Loki long and hard. “Ellie doesn’t answer to you. Or anyone. Odin did what any wounded general would do when facing unfavorable odds. Retreat and regroup. Live to fight another day. We would never dishonor him by giving chase.”

  “I want Odin,” Loki told me. He waved one hand behind himself, indicating the whole town. “This whole debacle more than establishes Astrid’s incompetence. She’s not strong enough to keep him under control.”

  “Neither can you,” Astrid snapped, taking a step forward and looming over Loki by half a foot.

  “On the contrary,” Loki purred. “I’ve been saving a special surprise for him. Courtesy of the same wise women who relieved Odin of his eye in exchange for his supposed wisdom. For all the good it gave him. Odin should have traded that eye for cunning instead. Then perhaps he would have fared better today.”

  The crowd in the street was too caught up in reunions to notice what was happening—this new, unwelcome turn of events. Except for Margit, who started to approach warily, eyes widening in disbelief at the ever-shifting landscape of Loki’s face. I held up one hand, warning her to stay back.

  “You can’t control Odin without me,” Loki said, crossing his arms. “You have no choice. I made sure of that.”

  Again Astrid was wavering. She didn’t know what to do about Odin, especially since her switch in allegiance was still new and raw. But no one in their right mind would trust Loki.

  “Yes, you do,” I said, my idea still crystallizing as I spoke. “Just leave Odin alone.” My grandmother was the only one whose eyes didn’t widen at my words. “He traded his eye for wisdom. Maybe we give him a chance to put it into practice. Let him travel. Learn. Come to grips with how the world has changed.”

  “Odin tried to make me kill Tuck?” Graham asked, rubbing his head like he could massage his brain back into full working order. “We can’t let someone like that just wander around. Seems irresponsible. Was that really Odin, like Odin Odin? I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

  I put a hand on Graham’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” I said. “It’ll take more than five minutes to catch up to the events of the past thirty-two hours. Even for you.”

  Astrid was nodding slowly to herself, her eyes scanning the road that led to Valhalla.

  “Odin might be the god of war, but he’s also the god of knowledge,” I added. “And I remember enough of Grandfather’s bedtime stories to know he wasn’t always cruel. Maybe time will help him figure out that the modern world is okay as it is.”

  Tuck’s fingers squeezed mine. “Right. He can learn to surf. And if that’s not enough to satisfy his megalomania, maybe take over a few South American countries?”

  “I’m serious,” I said, elbowing him. “We don’t have any other option. He’s immortal. He’s got powers I can’t even begin
to understand. It’s not like we can just lock him in our bathroom. And Loki … well, you can bet whatever he’s up to will cause more problems than it solves.”

  Loki’s face twisted in abject fury. I’m pretty sure he would have ripped out my throat on the spot if he hadn’t been so outnumbered.

  “Elsa is right,” Grandmother said. “Odin isn’t past repair. He just needs time. I’ll keep an eye on him,” she added. “Now that I don’t have to worry about Astrid and the others, I’ll have some time on my hands.”

  “Keep an eye on him?” Loki parroted back, his tone making it all too clear how stupid he thought we were being. “We need to punish him. Humiliate him. I’ve earned this victory. Give Odin to me.”

  “No,” Astrid said. “I’m in charge here—not you. My word is final.” Her eyes flashed, full of the possibilities that had just opened up in front of her at that moment. Doubt sucker punched me in the stomach as I remembered all the truly disturbing things I’d seen her do.

  “We had an agreement,” Loki growled. “Elsa, I’d hate to think you’re double-crossing me.”

  “Really? You should take it as a compliment. See how much I’ve learned from you in just two short days?” I replied levelly. “The only agreement we had is over. I’ve got Graham back. Dawn has passed. And it’s time for you to find someone else to pester.”

  Astrid and the others shifted closer at once, into a half circle around me. Instantaneous coordination. With backup like this, Loki didn’t stand a chance.

  “I’ll go to Midgaard,” Loki said, a trace of whiny desperation curling through the words. “I’ll tell them what you did. All the people you kidnapped.”