by Lentz, P. K.
"Scream, Gaeira," I try again. "Just scream. You must!"
But with all she has, all she is, she fights to keep the sound inside. Her forehead touches the scorched ground, and she drives her face into it such that I think she may bite off a chunk to serve as a gag. She does not do that, but she fights and fights and does not yield, and I give up on urging her otherwise, for I know the outcome.
Her will prevails. The battle wracks her body, but she remains faithful to her vow.
At last she falls still and slowly lifts her head. Ashen smears cover her face. Her hands unclench, showing nail-marked palms. She shifts to put her feet under her and drags herself upright. I also rise, but do not help her, only stand ready should she fall. Pain and shock are writ on her face. It would be beyond anyone's power to maintain a mask at such a time as this. The last war claimed her blood family. Now, another has taken from her all that remained.
I take her limp, trembling hand in mine and squeeze it. She does not reciprocate. For a very long time, we stand there staring. Finally Gaeira walks away from the remains of her home and collapses on a patch of withered grass. I settle beside her and take her in my arms, stroking her long hair and her back. She permits it. Since meeting her in the wastes of Jotunheim, I have judged her stronger than I in both body and mind. And she is. It is my privilege to be of some comfort to her.
I did not have the chance to know Afi and Dalla well, but I mourn them. They were good to me. All among the Aesir and Vanir who were good to me are gone now: Baldr, Odinn, even Freya, who is stuck at the gates of Niflheim using all of her power to keep another swarm at bay. All of the good are gone but one, the first and best of those who befriended me on the path I chose to follow, the path of the ravens. Now it shall be her path that I follow, although I know not whether she has even chosen it yet: to stay here and rebuild, to leave and dwell in Asgard, or to set off for some other place. I know I hope that one day she will cross the sea with me to Midgard. And although she must fulfill her vow of vengeance alone, I would have her by my side helping me to fulfill the one that I must soon take against Loki.
No, I do not know, as we chop down what is left of the barn and build a pyre on which I lay the unrecognizable remains of Afi and Dalla, whether Gaeira has yet made the choices she must make. I do not know, as in silence we watch the funeral fire blaze into the night, what path she will walk.
But I will share it.
END
