by Ayer, T. G.
I thought of Ara and Sigrun's Sleipnir. I’d almost forgotten about them. I breathed and call them home, hoping my call to Sigrun’s mount would work.
Then darkness fed into my eyes, slowly blurring my vision. I blinked. Then nothing.
***
I opened my eyes, taking a deep breath as if no air had entered my lungs in years. Pain filtered through my body, bringing with it memories of the poison, and of my escape from Jotunnheim, and of Sigrun.
I scanned my surroundings; Eir's treatment room. My movement brought the goddess to my side. "Bryn, you must rest. Try not to move too much. We have manufactured an antidote which seems to be working well. A little too slow for my liking, but it is working. Sometimes I am not the most patient person." Eir shrugged and smiled.
"How did you make the antidote?" The words rasped past dry lips and Eir immediately reached for a jug and a goblet. She poured and I licked my lips as I watched the Mead trickle into the goblet. I had to steel myself against snatching the goblet from the goddess’s hands and gulping the Mead down in one swallow.
Only when Eir continued talking did I remember I'd asked her a question. "We used the arrow which Sigrun brought to Asgard." I frowned at Eir's diplomatic choice of words. Sigrun hadn't brought the spear. She'd arrived impaled by it.
A noise at the doorway drew Eir’s attention as I finished my drink and placed the goblet on the bedside table. I still had a few questions for the goddess, but seeing my visitors, I knew I may have to ask them in the presence of Lady Tyra and Frigga, who now entered the room, expression and mood somber, their beautiful faces dark with worry and strain. When they saw I was awake, they smiled and hurried to my bed.
"My dear Brynhildr, we are so glad you are well." Frigga hurried to my side and grabbed my hand and squeezed it, her warm fingers lending some heat to my chilled skin.
"We have been waiting for you to awaken. I know you are weak but there is much to be done." Tyra spoke as she drew close to the other side of the bed. Surrounded by two goddesses and the queen matriarch of the Nidhogg, I felt a little overwhelmed, weepy, by their caring for me. "I have something you need."
Tyra slipped her hands into her pockets and withdrew the two balls that Loki had taunted me with. They sat in her palms, so unreal, so terrifying.
I reached out for them and Tyra placed them in my hands. They weighed my palms down, both equally heavy although the price to pay for each choice was vastly different. "Am I still expected to make a choice?" My throat was tight. I was suddenly terrified they would still expect a choice.
Frigga clicked her tongue. "Of course not, child. You keep the one with your wings and I will take the other one and place it somewhere safe. The only thing I ask is that you tell us everything that happened."
I held the glass ball in my hand, staring at the wings that seemed to hover inside. My mouth moved as I retold the entire story from the moment we arrived in Jotunnheim, the saving of Heimdall and Brody, the arrow to Sigrun's back, then the wait for someone to return through the Bifrost.
Frigga's face told me how hard it was to hear what happened to Sigrun.
"I was so terrified that Heimdall wouldn’t return, but I'm glad we stayed put. If we'd left, I think the Jotunn would have found us before we got to the Bifrost." My eyes met Frigga's as I prepared to ask the one question I was dreading. "Sigrun?"
The slight shake of her head, the tears in her eyes, they were enough to break my heart into a million pieces. I'd held onto the slightest hope that I'd been wrong, that Sigrun had survived, that maybe Eir had managed to save her. A deathly chill crept over my heart. Even my tears iced over.
Frigga cleared her throat. "Brynhildr, what you did when Loki gave you those choices . . . the choice you made . . . few would have made such a difficult decision."
"It wasn't so difficult." I said, my voice flat.
"That is what makes you so special, Bryn." I should have been grateful that she'd changed the subject, but I found I didn't really care. Frigga placed her warm hand on mine and folded my fingers over the ball. "Take back what is yours, Brynhildr."
I stared at the ball, my face unchanged, the effort to reflect my emotions in my facial expression just too much to bother with. I didn't want to be touched either, and Frigga's hand on mine made me want to scream to be left alone. A strange lethargy was beginning to set in and I was grateful when Frigga drew me to my feet.
"Stand upright and let the ball fall at your feet. When it breaks, your wings will be returned." Frigga inclined her head, grazing my face with a look of such kindness that my heart clenched. "And be careful. The poison has taken its toll on your body and you are still not yet in full possession of all your faculties."
I nodded and followed her instructions. When the ball hit the marble floor it shattered into millions of tiny pieces, which went flying in every direction to promptly disappear into thin air. A rush of energy mixed with pale smoke and loose feathers emanated from the spot in front of me and swept through the room, then returned in a pulsating wave to be sucked back up into nothing.
A warmth spread into my shoulders, running through my flesh and bone like lava, searing and melting me to nothing. I gasped and struggled to breathe as sweat beaded my brow and fire raced through my veins. This time I had no Mead to take the edge off the agony. This time, if I wanted my wings, I had to embrace the pain.
I sank to my knees; my limbs unable to hold up my weight. Now my legs and thigh muscles quivered, threatening to fall from beneath me, but I struggled to stay where I was. Frigga and Tyra watched, their faces twisted with concern.
Fire raced through my veins; pure unadulterated agony scourged its way to my shoulders and what was left of my wings: two small lumps of bone, smoothed down so they no longer resembled bones.
Searing flames gripped my shoulders, the unbearable heat convincing me my bones were melting. I could have sworn I felt them pulse and twist at my back. Sweat now dripped along my hairline and down my back, the shirt at my neck and chest now clinging to my skin, soaked with perspiration.
I gasped for breath, suddenly frantic that I couldn’t breathe at all, my lungs protesting as I tried to force air into my nostrils — a hoarse sound echoing around the cave as I struggled to breathe.
Panic.
I couldn't panic.
There was no time for that, and I had no idea what would happen should I pass out from the pain or from lack of oxygen. The last time I'd done this, I'd had Sigrun at my side, not to mention a hall full of Valkyrie sisters for support.
And then, just as I began to see spots of light at the edges of my darkening vision, air surged into my lungs, as if a dam had just burst open, flooding me with relief as I sucked in oxygen as if each gulp were my very life's breath.
Preoccupied with my struggle to breathe, I almost missed the sudden surge of pure agony that blasted through the bones at my shoulders. This time I nearly did faint from the searing pain, from sheer exhaustion battling against the never-ending waves of pain.
Yet not for a moment did I question if my wings were worth this agony. Not for a moment. I'd go through worse to have them back. Despite my preoccupation with my pain, through teeth gritted against the constant waves of agony, I acknowledged how intrinsically linked I'd become to my wings. I'd grieved for their loss, but their impending return gave me such strength to battle the pain I knew beyond any doubt I couldn't live without my wings.
I'd never ever feel normal without them.
In the next moment, air gusted behind me and something hard and heavy thrust out of my shoulders. I gasped and fell forward, a heavy weight bearing me down.
I lay on the floor, cheek pressed against cold, marble tile. I blinked and breathed, then lifted my head. Both Frigga and the dragon queen knelt beside me. Frigga brushed the hair from my forehead. "There is no rush, child. Lie there and rest for a while."
A weight pulled at my shoulders. I knew my wings were there but though I was grateful I finally had them back, only a tiny part of me was able to r
ejoice — Sigrun’s face swam before my eyes, a vicious reminder of my loss.
The rest of me writhed in the arms of grief.
I pushed myself up and leaned forward a little, adjusting automatically to the returned weight of my wings. Back on my feet, my knees shivered and I pitched to the side, stepping quickly to regain my balance.
"Bryn, you need to rest." Lady Tyra laid a hand on my arm. "Your wound needs time to heal, and your body really does need to recover from the poison. Not to mention the trauma of receiving your wings."
"No. I need to see Sigrun." My tone was firm but emotionless, and all three women would be in no doubt as to how I felt.
"I really do think you should wait a while. Just until you have a little more strength." Eir came to my side as well, her brow furrowed, her eyes dark.
I shook my head even though the mere action hurt. "No. I have to see her…" I should have known better though. I needed rest and my body refused to listen to my demands. It showed me who was boss as a haze of exhaustion washed over me, plunging me into unconsciousness.
I awoke much later, my eyes popping open, Sigrun the first thought on my mind. I sat up slowly, grateful my head didn’t spin, happy to note my muscles seemed rested and supple.
"Ah, I see you have awakened." Eir came to me, a gentle smile on her pale face.
"I want to see her now." I kept my gaze on the door, not daring to be directly disrespectful in my defiance.
"Of course, my dear. I think you have rested enough." Eir nodded and helped me get to my feet. I walked slowly to the door even though I had no idea where I was going. Then I just walked out of the room without a backward glance.
***
Chapter 42
The goddess Eir caught up with me, silently guiding me to a part of the palace into which I'd never ventured. Everything seemed eerily silent. Even my footsteps on the stone floor seemed to make no sound. We slowed as we approached a set of open doors that gave into a large hall, already occupied by dozens of people, Warriors and Valkyries alike.
Eir paused in the doorway and so did I. Suddenly, I was afraid to enter the room alone. My heart thudded against my ribs and my throat tightened on a sob. At the opposite wall, half a dozen windows stood open, plain, white, gauzy drapes flowed in a soft breeze. All the walls were dotted with dozens and dozens of statues at least twenty feet in height, each made of white marble, each with wings spread out behind them, standing tall as if at attention.
In the middle of the room sat a small wooden boat, intricately carved runes covering every available surface of the vessel, inscribed in shimmering gold. The warm, red wood was a soft contrast to the stark white of the marble tiled floor.
Sigrun lay in the boat, supported by a pallet of soft blankets and cushions. She remained unmoving, so terrifyingly still.
Of course she wouldn't move, Bryn. She's dead.
Her pale skin glowed, glittering with some kind of special powder. They'd laid her upon her outstretched wings, their multiple hues of grey matching the somber occasion. They'd dressed her in full battle regalia, including her gleaming bronze helmet. She looked amazing, so stunning, so lifelike.
But it was a lie.
She is dead, gone. No more.
I hesitated, then left Eir at the doorway and walked to the boat. I could feel the gazes of the people I passed, knew the soft wave of whispers was because of my wings. I saw Aimee and Joshua at the edge of the crowd but barely acknowledged them as they rose and embraced me. My back remained stiff and I didn't return their greetings. I could barely handle them touching me without screaming for them to leave me alone.
Aimee gave me a shocked look, taking in my wings, but then just gave me a small smile and sat back down. Joshua held me by the arms. For a moment, I stared stiffly at the twist of the bronze buckle at the neck of his cloak. Then I met his eyes and was bombarded by the depth of emotion I saw. His gaze flitted from my face to my wings, his question unspoken. My body relaxed a little, his touch more welcome than I’d expected. My own eyes filled with tears as he turned to lead me to Sigrun, entwining his fingers with mine. He wouldn't let go and I was grateful. Until he'd held my hand, I'd been drifting in my grief, unable to lock onto anything to give me strength, not wanting anything or anyone to give me the strength I needed.
We sank to the floor beside the boat, which had been placed in a large depression in the floor, allowing everyone an unobstructed view of its single occupant. I stared at my friend, who'd been my support for so long. She would no longer be my companion.
My heart filled with such a bleak emptiness that I felt a searing, physical pain. I endured the agony, relished it. I deserved pain.
I'd failed to keep her safe.
Failed to save Sigrun.
I could sense Joshua and Aimee wanted to know what had happened. They shifted beside me, sending me glances both encouraging and curious. And though I knew they'd have received the gist of my condition and recovery from Frigga, I began to repeat the whole story to them, keeping my voice low and soft, ending with how I got my wings back using Loki’s ball.
My face fell as I finished my story and I glanced at Sigrun, guilt and regret pulling at my heart. Aimee held onto my free hand and squeezed. "Bryn, she was already gone by the time we’d arrived in Asgard. The poison had done its job." Aimee seemed to struggle with the words.
I stared at her, but all I saw was Sigrun's pale, fever-moist face. "Did they try the antidote?" I asked the question even though I knew they hadn't.
"They'd begun to make it as soon as we arrived with her but it was clear that she'd already died. They didn't try it because it was already too late."
"They should have still tried it. What if it had worked?" I spoke the words through gritted teeth.
"Bryn, she was gone." Joshua's fingered tightened on mine, and despite my anger, I felt their support. I knew they would have been able to do nothing for Sigrun. She had died with us in Jotunnheim.
I scanned the crowd for Fen. He wasn't there. I leaned in and whispered Fen's name to Joshua. "He's taken it pretty bad. He was here earlier, but I guess he needed his space." I nodded, a part of me twisting with guilt. "He should be around tomorrow for the funeral though."
Funeral. The word sounded so final. Just as it was meant to be.
***
I spent some time at the Valkyrie hall, then rose to go in search of Fen. Aimee and Joshua chose to accompany me, for which I was grateful. I wasn't sure if I could take Fen's wrath alone.
I found him in his meeting hall, bent over, staring blankly at his papers. He glanced up as I entered and I saw the grief in his eyes. I didn't see any blame or anger. A lump rose in my throat and again I swallowed the need to sob my grief, to let all my emotions go. Aimee and Joshua hung back as I walked to Fen. When I reached his side, I couldn't summon any words.
He seemed to understand, just opened his arms, and held me close. For a long moment, we stood there and shared our grief, and I felt overwhelmed by his affection, his forgiveness, and his love for my friend.
At last, I broke away. I hadn't been able to shed a tear. It seemed somewhere a switch had clicked and I just couldn't let it out. When Fen spoke, it jarred me a little to hear the rough emotion in his tone. "How are you holding up? I take it the antidote worked?"
I nodded. "I'm okay." I met his eyes. "I'm just so sorry."
"There is nothing to be sorry about, Bryn. It was a mission. It could have happened to anyone. And no doubt Sigrun would tell you the same. Let us just rejoice in her life. She would want that."
I nodded. He was right. Sigrun was never one to mope around. She was an action person, and I resolved to honor her by my actions. Yet it did seem so much easier to say than to do. "So, can I do anything?"
Fen nodded. "Tomorrow morning at the funeral, you can throw a torch for her. She would like that." I nodded although I wasn't entirely sure what that meant. I'd find out soon enough.
"I will. See you tomorrow then?" Fen nodded. I'd expected him to wa
nt to be debriefed immediately, but today, Fenrir, the great Ulfr of Asgard, nursed his heart just like the rest of us. As I joined Aimee and Joshua, Fen called out, "Bryn, I'll expect a full debrief from your team tomorrow after the funeral."
I nodded and left the hall, relieved that at least some things hadn't changed.
***
Chapter 43
Outside Fen's hall, Aimee paused and held onto my hand. "Bryn, I have a few things to do. Are you going to be okay?" I gave her an encouraging smile. One that probably hadn't met my eyes or seemed sincere enough because she frowned. "You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Now stop worrying and go do your einherjar thing."
Aimee gave me a faint, grateful smile. She grabbed me into a tight hug, then let go and left really fast. Sigrun's death was taking its toll on all of us. I swallowed hard as reassuring fingers squeezed mine, reminding me that Joshua was still with me.
I didn’t look at him as we walked, just moved along the subdued halls in silence. It seemed my grief had dulled the sparks of passion that had burned between us. Not that they were gone, they just weren’t as important to me right now, and the most uplifting part was that Joshua seemed to understand.
We reached my room, and this time, we weren’t accompanied by the clacking of wolf claws on the stone floor. Nor were we surrounded by the beating of ebony wings. Odin’s wolves and ravens were nowhere to be seen.
Inside, the room was cold. As if even Turi hadn’t expected me to return to my quarters so soon. I dropped onto the furs and stared into the empty fireplace as Joshua built up the fire. Soon flames crackled and warmth began to seep into the room and into my bones.
I wore the simple, white sleeveless dress in which I’d woken up. And yet the cold didn’t bother me at all. Or maybe I just didn’t care that I was cold. The furs shifted as Joshua sat beside me. When he put his arm around me, he started. "You’re freezing." He rubbed my arms a few times then climbed onto the bed, backing up until he sat against the wooden headboard. He beckoned and I went to him without question, leaning on his chest, so grateful for his arm as it closed around me.
