“I can’t watch this.” My voice sounded scratchy and small. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to take their places—to somehow preserve those tiny little lives, jumping on the sidewalk, squirming in the line their teachers were still trying to form. I couldn’t even make sense of the words Ninurta was speaking although I was pretty sure they were English. But I never had a chance to try. The screen went dark and my legs gave out on me. I only didn’t fall because Yngvarr was holding me up.
“What happened?” I looked helplessly at him. I should have stopped them. They warned me and I knew they wanted me and I could have stopped them.
“They extended the deadline,” Yngvarr explained.
I shook my head. I didn’t understand what he was telling me.
Yngvarr helped me onto the edge of the bed and sat beside me. “They’re angry and they want the world to fear them, but they’re gods like the rest of us. Maybe even they have their limits. All he said was that we should consider this one final warning and he was giving us twenty-four more hours.”
I searched Yngvarr’s sky-blue eyes, but there was no deception there. No dishonesty. And some part of me knew he wouldn’t lie to me. Not to me. “They’re alive then?” I asked him.
Yngvarr glanced over his shoulder at the television that had cut away to a newsroom and nodded. “I think so. They’re not talking about any disaster at the mint.”
I slowly unclenched my fists and stretched my aching fingers, and only then did I see Frey still sitting against the wall. Freyja was by his side and running one of her bejeweled hands over his face. “Oh, god,” I groaned, but I don’t know what god I was talking to. Freyja was the one to answer me though.
“He’s okay,” she said. “But you need to be careful, Gavyn. Because of who you are, you can kill gods, you know.”
I buried my face in my hands and groaned again. Of course I knew that. They’d been hauling me out to some remote field to learn how to fight these Sumerian gods for a reason. But I hardly remembered grabbing Frey and throwing him into the wall; it was like knocking out Tyr and escaping from that conference room all over again.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I complained, my voice muffled by my hands that I stubbornly refused to move. “I didn’t even know what I was doing. You can’t trust me to control myself.”
Nobody seemed to know what to say to that, and even Hunter, my best friend I’d known for over half my life, was quiet as he sat motionless near the god who I was supposed to be fighting for but could have killed. At least I thought no one knew what to say, but Yngvarr put his hand on my shoulder and reminded me he was still here.
“You must get that from my father,” he said, and the pain in his voice sent conflicting emotions through me again, but my head was still trapped in some fog and I couldn’t quite tell which of these emotions were mine and which were Havard’s.
I let my hands fall into my lap and caught Keira staring at me, that compassion and concern resurfacing. She looked away as soon as my eyes met hers.
“Havard had that thought about your parents.” I met Yngvarr’s eyes instead. “I remember him thinking he got angry quickly because of your father’s nature but was appeased just as quickly because of your mother’s.”
“And me. I’ve always been that way, too.”
“But you must have learned to control your temper, Yngvarr,” Tyr said, and the sound of his voice surprised me. He’d been behind me this whole time and with my brain all twisted around like this, I’d forgotten he was in the room. “You’re not known for being reckless and impetuous.”
And Tyr wasn’t known for using big words. Part of me wanted to turn around and high-five him for knowing how to use “impetuous” in a sentence, but I was too ashamed about hurting Frey. I didn’t even acknowledge him.
“Eventually, I did,” Yngvarr told him but his eyes never left me. “Having something to keep me grounded helped the most.”
“Like what?” Keira asked.
Yngvarr smiled at her and lifted a shoulder. “I fell in love. And just her touch, this reminder of her presence, got me to calm down. That was so long ago, and I don’t lose it like that much anymore. But I don’t doubt it would happen to me, too, if I had been in Gavyn’s shoes.”
“You calmed him down,” Keira said, and I’d never wanted her to shut up more than I did right then. I knew what all of the gods were going to ask Yngvarr now, and I stood up, wanting to leave this room for the third time, but I also knew Keira wouldn’t be following me again. I had nowhere to go, and they would ask Yngvarr, this man I’d just met but couldn’t help loving like my brother, to go with me into battle.
“You should go back to Asgard,” I told him. “Tonight.”
The room erupted into protests, and I had nowhere to escape.
“You need his help, Gavyn,” Keira insisted.
“No. I’ll be fine.” I risked glancing at Frey who hadn’t moved. He was dazed and disoriented and my stomach rolled, but I wasn’t letting Yngvarr stay because of me.
The room became a cacophony of sounds again, more assertions that surely we were destined to fight together, that Havard himself had probably fought alongside his brother countless times, but I didn’t want to listen to any of them. I felt someone pulling at my sleeve and looked down to see Agnes trying to lead me away from those gods and servants of Asgard who were always so convinced they knew what was best for me and my own fate.
For once, I gladly followed Agnes as she led me out of that room and into the silent hallway. She closed the door softly behind her.
“You are not Havard,” she told me, her voice surprisingly clear and pleasant. I had never heard her speak that way before. “But some part of him lives within you. You can’t help wanting to protect Yngvarr because Havard would want to protect him. But Havard was a war god. He would accept what must be done for the good of everyone, even if that meant risking the loss of those he loved most.”
I caught my breath and dared to hope Agnes might know more than she’d been letting on. “Do you remember him?”
But Agnes shook her head. “No. He had a curse put on him for some reason, and it’s a powerful one. The first time you talked about him, I could sense it. No Seer or witch could have done something like this.”
My heart and stomach were both doing summersaults now, but I heard myself asking her anyway. “Who has that kind of power then?”
Agnes’s features softened and for once, she didn’t seem scary and threatening and witch-like at all. “Only a god,” she told me.
I leaned against the wall and exhaled slowly, painfully. “So Havard did something so terrible, he didn’t want anyone to remember him and was able to convince another god to make that possible. But his genes that I carry are coming alive here and part of me is going to become this god who was capable of doing something so horrific? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Agnes reached up and touched the side of my face but I didn’t flinch away from her. This was a gentle touch meant to be reassuring. But there was little she could say or do now to reassure me. “Let Yngvarr stay with you, Gavyn. None of us know yet how badly you may need him.”
Agnes let her hand fall and put her mask back on, resuming this scary-as-hell-I-may-be-a-witch façade she was so good at maintaining, then opened the door and went back into the room. But I stayed in the hallway, feeling nauseated and dizzy, trusting that Keira and Tyr had been right and they needed my help, but terrified about how much of myself I would lose in the process.
Arnbjorg Tours Asgard
(And there’s, like, some weird foreshadowing shit going down.)
Yngvarr walked with me back to our palace, and he insisted on meeting Arnbjorg even though part of me was a little worried about what he might say. He was my older brother. Teasing me must have run somewhere in his blood. As we approached our gate, I reminded him—again—that I knew where he slept, and unless he wanted to wake up bald or with a snake in his bed, he’d better not embarrass me in front of Arnbjorg. Y
ounger brothers must have had it in our blood, too.
Yngvarr laughed and promised me for the fourth time he had no intention of embarrassing me in front of this girl. He just wanted to meet the woman who had so completely enchanted me.
I had been right about Arnbjorg rising early. She was sitting in the dining hall with the two maids Freyja had brought over, and they must have found new dresses for her overnight because Arnbjorg looked every bit a goddess now rather than human. Her long white and blue linen dress didn’t hide her curves the way the woolen dress she’d been wearing last night had, and when she stood to greet us, I caught my breath. The curvature of her breasts and hips and the smooth white skin of her exposed arms and neck confirmed I had been right about this girl: there was nothing in any of the nine worlds as beautiful as she.
And then I realized my gawking at her was making me painfully aroused and I averted my eyes. I also had the horrifying realization that Yngvarr had been talking but I’d been too busy admiring Arnbjorg’s beauty to listen and I had no idea what he’d just told her. I probably blushed. I definitely wanted to disappear.
Yngvarr bowed toward Arnbjorg then clapped me on the back. “I’ll see you later, little brother.” He was smiling at me, but I still had no idea what he’d said to Arnbjorg or what she’d told him in return. I waited until I could no longer hear his boots on the stone floor before asking her.
Arnbjorg tilted her head at me, probably wondering why I didn’t already know this and I thought again that being a god should at least give us the ability to disappear when we wanted to. But I still couldn’t manage to make that happen, so I just stood there awkwardly and had to look away from her again. “He asked me how I’d slept and if I needed anything else since this is his home, too. You didn’t tell me you had a brother or that you lived with him.”
I lifted my eyes and smiled at her, but it was a self-conscious smile. Apparently, I hadn’t needed Yngvarr to embarrass me. I could do that well enough on my own. “Sorry. I guess I’m so used to him being here, it never even occurred to me to tell you about him. Seems stupid, doesn’t it?”
Arnbjorg shrugged and lifted the bowl that must have had her breakfast in it from the table but one of her new maids immediately took it from her and vanished toward the kitchen. Arnbjorg watched her then sighed.
“What is it?” I asked. I automatically assumed this maid wasn’t treating her well and I could feel my temper rising.
Arnbjorg’s dark blue eyes flitted briefly toward me then she glanced at the other maid in the room. I told her new servant to leave us alone. My anger was boiling within me now. If Freyja had intentionally sent her two worst servants, I would deal with her later, too.
But Arnbjorg offered me a weak smile as soon as the other maid was gone and told me, “I’m not used to having others wanting to do everything for me. I’ve worked hard my entire life. I took care of myself and helped my mother take care of our house, weave clothing and cook and I helped care for my younger brother. What am I supposed to do here if I’m not even meant to take care of myself anymore?”
“What would you like to do? Surely, you have some passion or skill you’d like to work on.” I thought about how Yngvarr and I spent most of our days: we did most of the work for our horses ourselves, including making their bridles and bits and shodding them in the winter. When we weren’t working in the stables, we often engaged in mock sword fights and wrestling. We were war gods, after all.
But my question confused Arnbjorg. “Hobbies are a luxury of the rich, Havard. Our hobby was surviving.”
“Then we will discover one for you.” I held out my hand and she slipped hers inside of mine, and I led her back out into the warm sun of morning in late summer in Asgard.
The dew had burnt off the grass by now and we walked silently for a while as we climbed the first hill, but when we reached the top, I paused to point to the spires in the distance, the orchards where she was always free to go, the fountains and even the gleaming gold roof of Valhalla. Arnbjorg’s gaze rested there the longest.
“There are really dead warriors there?” she finally asked me.
“Yes,” I answered. “After every battle, the Valkyries pick up the bravest of the slain warriors and bring them here. Each day, they practice fighting in the field next to the great hall, and those that fall again rise in the evening. Each night, they dine with Odin himself and drink and allow themselves to forget what they’re preparing for.”
“Ragnarok,” Arnbjorg whispered.
I squeezed her hand gently. “Nobody knows when it’s to come about.”
She looked up at me with those lovely, round eyes, full of fear from this conversation, and I wanted to hold her close to me and comfort her, but I knew myself better than to think I could trust myself to do that and not end up doing something she didn’t want me to do. “But I’ll live forever now. You told me in my father’s house. That means I’ll be alive to see it whenever it does come.”
I looked at the shining roof of Valhalla one more time, the sun’s reflection casting bright golden rays over all of Asgard. “Almost everyone is destined to die eventually, Arnbjorg. It’s a fate even we gods can’t escape. What makes one way of death so much worse than another?”
“I’m not as brave as you. I don’t want to see the carnage that comes with the end of our worlds.”
I smiled down at her. “Arnbjorg, I think you are far braver than me.” I pointed to the tall, thick wall in the distance. “Everyday, you may go anywhere you like as long as you stay within this wall. It protects us from the outside. We have far too many enemies for you to leave on your own.”
Arnbjorg nodded and promised me she would stay within the walls of Asgard. We spent the rest of the morning walking through her new homeland, stopping when we reached one of my sister’s palaces where she lived with her husband and children, and every single one of my sisters greeted me the same way—by telling me it took having a young woman for them to meet to finally get me to visit them. And I responded the same way each time: by grinning sheepishly at my sister and kissing her cheek and promising I would be a better brother in the future.
Truthfully, I didn’t mean to ignore them. I always came when they sent invitations, but time had a way of slipping away from me and before long, or at least it seemed it hadn’t been that long, one of their messengers would be at my door with an angry letter from one of my sisters wanting to know why I hadn’t been to see her in months and demanding I be in her home that evening for supper. I only once made the mistake of pointing out she could just as easily come to visit Yngvarr and me. She sent all four of her children to our palace the next day instead to remind us why she was far busier than us both. I’m not sure I’ve yet recovered from that.
I wasn’t at all surprised that each of my sisters warmed to Arnbjorg so quickly. Perhaps it was being the daughters of a love goddess and being able to sense I was in love with her, or maybe it was just Arnbjorg’s own nature, but they embraced her and treated her like she was already part of our family from the moment they met her. And Arnbjorg’s wit and charm won the admiration of everyone we stopped to meet that day. As we passed by Valaskjalf, Arnbjorg slowed down and looked at me expectantly. I shook my head.
“He’s not worth meeting,” I muttered.
“It’s Odin,” she retorted incredulously.
“Be careful around him, Arnbjorg. Don’t ever trust him.”
Arnbjorg’s smile turned sly as she caught on to my meaning. “I have no interest in sleeping with him. I just never thought I’d have the chance to meet any god, let alone the greatest of them.”
“He’s not the greatest of us,” I insisted.
Arnbjorg laughed at me and I couldn’t help smiling down at her. I would have hauled her straight to Odin’s door, despite my dislike and distrust of this god, if it kept her laughing like that. “I only meant he’s your leader, isn’t he?”
I lifted a shoulder as if to tell her some thought so. But really, he was still only a go
d, and he only retained his throne above us because we allowed him to. I think most of us had no interest in trying to rule over Asgard anyway. It seemed a tremendous amount of work and we were far too lazy.
Arnbjorg’s eyes trailed down to a different palace in the distance, one in which the original inhabitants no longer lived. It was occupied now by younger gods, newer gods who still deserved to live in Asgard. “And who lives there?” she asked.
I followed her gaze and my nose instinctively wrinkled in disgust.
“Worse than Odin?” she teased.
“Not anymore,” I answered. “The gods who live there now are decent people. It’s who it used to belong to. But he’s never coming back. He’s bound in that cave and will stay there until Ragnarok.”
The sun was setting and the air had cooled considerably. Arnbjorg shivered as the evening breeze picked up. Or maybe it was the reminder of Loki’s betrayal and his confinement, his punishment for the death of Balder.
“Did you know him?” she asked.
“No,” I told her and led her down the hill back to my palace. “I’m too young. It happened long before I was born.”
“Would you have just killed him, Havard? I never understood why he was allowed to live after what he did.”
“It’s my understanding everyone loved Balder. And they were far too busy grieving in the days after his death, hoping for a miracle that Hel would release him. By the time their grief began to fade, Loki had taken off, and when Thor and the other gods who had gone to hunt him down found him, they decided death was too easy a punishment for him. He had a reputation for being shifty, but that kind of disloyalty… it was shocking to even the gods in Asgard.”
I unclasped my cloak and draped it over Arnbjorg’s shoulders. She offered me a grateful smile, and my heart beat so wildly my head began to feel dizzy. I focused on the horizon in front of us. We walked in silence for a while, but then Arnbjorg broke that silence when she announced, “I would want my death avenged. Properly.”
Sword of Secrets Page 14
