Valkyrie Rising

by Ingrid Paulson

  “Good,” Astrid replied calmly. “Tell them Valhalla is mine now. And if anyone has a problem with that, we’ll be more than happy to convince them otherwise.” She exchanged a slow smile with the brunette Valkyrie who’d released Grandmother, as if they eagerly awaited that opportunity.

  “You and I aren’t finished,” Loki told me, even as his gaze switched nervously from face to flawless Valkyrie face. “This isn’t over.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said, more certain than I’d ever been before. “You can only push me around if I let you. I’m through with you, Loki.”

  Loki’s features shifted, a spinning kaleidoscope of faces as he backed away, seeming to melt into the crowd milling about the streets of Skavøpoll. All the people were still embracing, reveling in their victory.

  But Loki’s voice drifted to my ears, carried there on the wind, just for me. “We’re not through until I say we’re through. Just imagine. Right now I could be anyone and anywhere. I could even be the boy next door.” The sound circled closer, suspended in the air, fading into soft laughter before disappearing entirely into the cool breeze drifting off the fjord.

  15

  “Ellie?” Astrid turned her glacial gaze on me. “You’ll come with us?”

  If my eyes were wide before, there was now a legitimate risk they’d fall out of my head altogether.

  “Come where?” Graham asked, his usual sharpness returning all at once.

  “Valhalla. She can come live with us now.” Astrid talked down to Graham like he was too young and naïve to truly understand. A role reversal that wasn’t lost on me. “She needs to learn to fight and lead.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Graham said, even as he shrank back from Astrid’s narrow-eyed glare. “She’s coming home. With us.”

  “I wasn’t asking you,” Astrid informed him.

  “She’s my sister,” Graham replied. “I’m not letting her run off to some commando camp.”

  He turned to Grandmother for confirmation, but her expression was blank. She was looking at me, and instead of guidance I saw genuine curiosity in her eyes. She wondered what I’d choose.

  “Let her? You think you can stop her?” Astrid hissed. “You’ll be lucky if she forgives you. Sulking. Sneaking out. Getting yourself conscripted. By me. Ellie spent the last two days being crushed by me in hand-to-hand combat, only to bring together an army of hostile vigilantes and march them right to Odin’s front door. All to get you back. You’re a liability she’d do best to dispose of.”

  “You did that?” Graham whispered in shock before remembering to use his fake Dad voice when talking down to me. “Something could have happened to you.”

  Astrid snorted.

  “It did,” I said. “A big something. I finally figured out who I really am. And being your sister is a part of that, but it can’t be the only thing people see when they look at me. That includes you. You’ve got to stop trying to run my life. And paving over everything I say.”

  “You really think I do that? That I pave over you?” Graham asked. “Tuck? Do I do that?”

  Tuck held up both hands and shook his head.

  “You just asked Tuck to corroborate what I told you,” I said, laughing at something that would have made me scream with frustration mere days before. Because suddenly I knew that Graham could boss me around only if I let him.

  No one has power over me unless I surrender it.

  “You’re asking someone else,” I pointed out. “Instead of listening to me.”

  “I guess, I mean, if you want to go with Astrid, you can.” Graham looked at me hopefully, asking if that was the right answer, if these words would span this new distance between us.

  Astrid made a disgusted noise deep in her throat before shifting impatiently from one booted foot to the other. “Come with us, Ellie. None of us think you require permission to do anything. The world will be what you make of it.”

  Then Graham shook his head, looking down at his shoes. “No. I get it. I get it. You’re saying the permission isn’t mine to give. It’s yours. It’s all yours to decide.”

  I met Graham’s gaze, and I nodded.

  And that’s when it hit me. It was my decision.

  Which meant I had to make it.

  Everything went silent, except for the steady thud of my heartbeat in my ears.

  In the weirdest way, Astrid’s offer was exactly what I wanted. I could learn what I was. I could explore and master the strange whispers and violent impulses that had been urging me along this whole time. I knew how I’d be as a Valkyrie—daring and sleek like Astrid, yet wise and stoic like my grandmother. It was almost too good to be true.

  Almost.

  Because then I saw Graham and Tuck, staring at me like they’d just heard the sun would be leaving them for the foreseeable future.

  It wasn’t surprise I was feeling at Astrid’s offer. In the background was the knowledge that I wasn’t ready. Because before I could be strong with them, I had to be strong on my own. I’d be surrendering my new independence, my new self-awareness, before I’d even begun to truly understand what it meant.

  I closed my eyes and let my vision of myself in all my Valkyrie glory float away on the breeze. “I’m still in high school. There’s too much I’d be giving up right now.” My eyes sought out Tuck, who was watching me, his eyes flawlessly unguarded and telling me everything I most needed to hear.

  “I don’t have time to train you anyway,” Astrid snapped, but I caught a shadow of true regret before her features settled back to cold, hard stone. “What do we do with all the nosy mortals Ellie dragged into our private business?” she growled. “They know too much.”

  “Target practice,” Grandmother replied, in a tone that made me seriously question whether she was joking.

  Astrid laughed. “I’ll clean up after you, just this once,” she told me with a smile that could still chill me to the bone. “Although Hilda’s suggestion isn’t without its merits.”

  I took a step forward, ready to stop Astrid if she did something crazy. But Grandmother caught my arm and shook her head. She clucked her tongue like she always did when she was amused.

  As Astrid walked away down the street, back toward the hidden road, there was something strange about the eyes of the people she passed. A wave of confusion swirled in her wake. Cloudy eyes, not quite milky but definitely not clear, stared off into space or out toward the water. A few people whispered to their neighbors, suddenly not really sure why they were standing in the middle of the street. Had it been an earthquake? Or a power failure that had driven them from their homes? Whatever it was, they were slowly casting suspicious glances at Grandmother. Soft whispers speculated about whether it was truly Hilda standing there, since suddenly she looked so young, followed by not-so-kind comments about her peculiar habits.

  The old-lady spectacles appeared from Grandmother’s pocket as she popped her high collar, making it impossible for anyone to get a close enough look to note the other differences in her.

  As the whole town gathered and gossiped, Grandmother stood apart. Aloof. Feared. She was the one who’d saved the town, and yet again she was cast aside and distrusted.

  Whatever Astrid had just done was a different breed of magic, not at all like how we seized control of people’s minds. This felt older, primitive. I thought of the cascade of water that had nearly sent Tucker and me plummeting over the edge of a cliff. Gods had been around for centuries, weaving in and out of human lives without ever leaving concrete evidence of their existence. Perhaps there were other forces at work, guarding our deepest and most fundamental secrets. Forces even Astrid couldn’t fully control.

  The memories of everyone in town were being reshaped, sifted free of any recollection of what had just happened. While I was relieved I wouldn’t have to discuss being a Valkyrie next time I went into the bakery or wandered along the pier after a morning run, there was one person who deserved to keep the truth.

  “Not Margit,” I said, out loud and to n
o one in particular. “She’s earned the memory of her courage—of the day she stood with us and fought to get her brother back.”

  “Fine.” Astrid’s voice carried down the streets, and she gave me one last backward glance. “But rid yourself of this sentimental streak soon, Elsa. It’s not our style.”

  Margit met my eye and gave me a tentative half smile. It seemed I’d found a real and true friend in the most unlikely place.

  Astrid’s footsteps faded as she disappeared into thin air, but twelve other pairs of boots picked up the rhythm. Marching to the steady thudding of my heart. Until they too vanished at the far edge of town.

  A whole new breed of loneliness hatched inside my heart when Astrid and the others were truly gone. For a moment, I longed to follow. To join them.

  But Tuck touched my elbow, appearing just when I needed him. As usual. The thrill that looped through me at his touch was all I needed to remind me of my life at home. The life I wasn’t quite ready to give up.

  At least … not yet.

  16

  My grandmother was in her garden by noon, watering her prize rosebush. Like it was any old day. I’d at least needed a nap after everything we’d been through. But not Grandmother.

  I didn’t know how to even begin to talk to her about what had happened. She suddenly felt like a stranger to me, and an intimidating stranger at that. I loitered in the kitchen, watching her and making tea. Working up the courage to say something.

  But I should have known that she’d make it easy for everything to slip back to normal. After all, she’d had years of practice at pretending to fit in.

  At my approach, she turned and smiled. “Feeling rested?” she asked. “I was hoping you could run to the hardware store for some new pruning sheers. I can’t go into town looking like this.” She motioned toward her dirt-flecked slacks.

  Before I could reply to such a stunningly normal request, she reached into the pocket of her canvas gardening smock and pulled out a crisply folded piece of paper.

  “I spent most of the morning trying to remember the words,” she said as I unfolded the page and scanned her tidy script. It was a poem, written in Norwegian—something I was still surprised I could miraculously understand. “If memory serves, each word must be in just the right order to break the enchantment. It’s been in place long enough that we need a strong remedy.”

  “Enchantment?” I asked, finally looking up from the page.

  “You must have noticed the way Kjell was acting,” she said. “I know it was an accident, Ellie. No doubt it happened the first time you saved him from Astrid—broke her hold and replaced it with one of your own. But we need to set it right, all the same. While I’m sure he thought you were pretty, I know Kjell well enough to know he wouldn’t have such ridiculous intentions toward a sixteen-year-old girl.”

  “W-what do you mean?” I stammered.

  “He came by while you were sleeping and asked if I’d mind if he proposed. Since your father couldn’t be asked and I refused to give him your mother’s phone number, he figured I was an adequate surrogate.”

  I choked on my tea.

  Grandmother reached over and patted my back. Hard. She was making a valiant effort not to laugh at me. “Don’t worry, he’ll snap out of it quickly enough. Just nip this in the bud today, please. He said he’d be back at one to talk to you.”

  I glanced at my watch. That gave me exactly seven minutes to hide. But as I started walking up the path toward the house, a deep voice called my name. Kjell sounded so urgent, so excited to see me, that in light of my grandmother’s news, I thought about running into the house and locking the door behind me. Or better yet, stashing myself underneath the trapdoor in the basement.

  Instead I sighed and turned, smoothing my bed head down with one hand.

  “Remember what I said, Elsa,” Grandmother murmured as I walked past. “Take care of this. It’s one of our more inconvenient talents. I promise the others will make up for it.”

  “Hi,” Kjell said. He couldn’t have smiled more brightly if he’d just swallowed the sun.

  “Um, hi,” I mumbled, doing my best to look bored. Unfortunately, we were well beyond the point that he’d pick up on hints. “Let’s go for a walk?” I suggested, glancing back at my grandmother, who was standing in the yard, watching us with a bemused smile and both hands on her hips.

  Kjell was all too eager to get away from my grandmother’s watchful eye. As soon as we reached the base of the driveway and put a line of trees between us and Grandmother, he practically jumped on me. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said. “I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. Ever since you saved my life.”

  It was so melodramatic that it was hard to keep a straight face.

  “Wait,” I said. My stomach threatened to reject my breakfast as Kjell got down on one knee. “Before you do anything you’ll regret, just hear me out.”

  “Of course. Anything you want,” Kjell said, smiling like a drunken sailor. Which he pretty much was. Between whatever hold I had on him and whatever my grandmother and Astrid had done to erase the town’s memories, Kjell was more than confused. “But after. First I have to tell you all about the plans I’m making for our future. We can live in Oslo, but I’ll have to move out of student housing.”

  I took a step back. He scrambled to grab my hand, nearly knocking my grandmother’s poem from my grasp. That would have been an all-out catastrophe given the stiff wind blowing down the mountain toward the fjord.

  As Kjell held my hand in both of his and started saying something disturbing and completely inappropriate, I started talking too, raising my voice to be heard over his ridiculous proclamation of love.

  By the time I reached the second stanza of the poem, Kjell had fallen silent. He was looking at me strangely. Like he had no idea where he was, how he had gotten there, and quite possibly who I was.

  By the time I finished completely, he was shaking his head and pressing the heels of both hands to his forehead.

  “I feel really weird,” he said, almost tipping over as he tried to stand.

  “You’re okay,” I replied, putting one hand on his shoulder and guiding him to his feet.

  “What was I doing on the ground like that?” he asked. Then he looked at me, as the memory of what he’d been planning hit him all at once.

  “That was very funny, Kjell,” I said, flashing my most innocent smile. “But I’m afraid that joke was lost somewhere in translation. Call it the culture gap or whatever, but in America our pranks aren’t quite so elaborate.”

  “Right,” he said slowly, still eyeing me warily. He knew I was lying, but he also had no incentive to correct me. “But you understand, right? That it was just a joke?”

  “Of course I do.” I was laughing now, hoping my smile would shoo away some of the awkwardness circling in the wings, waiting to pick our friendship clean. After all, I liked Kjell—just not like that.

  “Well, one day I’m sure you’ll have the chance to get back at me,” he said, taking a step away down the driveway. I could tell he was still trying to untangle his thoughts, going back to that very first night in the bar. It was hard to imagine how bewildered he must have been. All the time he’d lost. “Because honestly, Elsa, you’re just a little young for me. And we’re both too young for all that down-on-one-knee business, right?”

  “No explanation necessary, Kjell,” I replied. “I can take a joke.”

  “Right,” he said. But the eyes that scrutinized my face were skeptical and scrambling for a polite way to extract him from the entire situation.

  So I gave him one.

  “Look, I need to run an errand for my grandmother. But I think we’re going out tomorrow night—Graham said he was gonna call you to get a game together.”

  “Thanks. That sounds great,” Kjell replied. “But I’m going to visit some friends in Oslo. I won’t be back before the school year starts.” I could see in his eyes that he’d just made that decision on the spot, when he’d realize
d he was absolutely terrified of me. Even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. I stood there for a minute, watching Kjell practically running away from me.

  “Works like a charm,” I said to my grandmother, waving the page in the air as I walked past.

  “That’s a good thing,” she replied without looking up. “Because so does your smile. Keep it somewhere safe. You’ll need it.”

  HER WORDS WERE dogging my steps as I walked up the porch stairs and ran straight into Tuck, nearly knocking the glass of orange juice out of his hand. I took a step back, not really sure what to do, since Graham was standing right behind him. In all the chaos of the past few hours, we hadn’t exactly had time to talk about where things stood between the two of us.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi,” he said back.

  A long, awkward pause followed. Then Graham walked past, thumping Tucker hard on the back. “Don’t hold back on my account,” he said. “I’m not a complete moron. You’re not as slick as you think—all those double entendres. Scampering around the roof in the middle of the night.”

  Tuck stared at Graham, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t have a ready retort.

  “Don’t look so scared. Big brother is butting out this time. But if you break her heart, I’ll break your arm. And maybe a leg.” He laughed and shook his head. “Actually, she’ll do it herself.” He was still laughing to himself as he walked away, leaving Tuck and me alone on the porch steps.

  It would take a while for Graham and me to figure out exactly what his new, laid-back-brother act would look like. I was just glad we were equally determined to find that middle ground together.

  “Guess I’d better go talk to him,” Tuck said, running one hand through his hair as he watched Graham stride away across the yard. “But we need to talk, too. Alone. Tonight? Same place?”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice to be steady.

  Even Tuck’s playful grin couldn’t ease the dread that had a stranglehold on my heart. Fortunately, Tuck’s irritatingly astute skills of observation finally missed something. Like the way I forced my answering smile.