“Correlation versus causation,” Aya said. “Kirby is balance. Everything about her keeps a foot in both life and death.”
Lance’s expression slid back to neutral. “I didn’t realize you were a fan.”
Neither did Min.
“It’s hard not to respect someone like her.” Was that awe in Aya’s voice?
Lance’s phone chimed, and he glanced at the screen. “Well, when she’s back, let her know she has another fan. We’ll have drinks. Excuse me.” He stepped far enough away his voice was muffled as he answered the phone.
“She’s back,” Aya said softly as she glanced at Min, shock on her face.
“She’s where?” Lance’s question on the phone drifted back to them.
Kirby. “Can you take me to her?” Min kept his question quiet.
“I don’t know what kind of situation she’s in,” Aya said.
“I don’t care. Take me.”
Chapter Nineteen
Gwydion
Gwydion stared at the original prophecy text Dahlia had uncovered, versus the translation courtesy of Frey and Aya. It was unlikely they’d misinterpreted something between the two languages, but the meaning may have changed.
It didn’t matter how long he stared; the only thing he could do was guess at alternate interpretations. NEON was still closed. He, Frey, and Dahlia were sitting in the main room, lights on, trying to find anything that could help... anyone.
“That kind of focus, I’d expect you to have figured out how to manipulate time and space by now.” Dahlia’s tone was light. She took the chair across from him at the table and slid him a can of Red Bull.
Not usually Gwydion’s thing, but it was the thought that counted. “If I could do that...”
“You’d what?” Dahlia asked. “Serious question. If you could manipulate time and space, what would you do?”
Gwydion stared at condensation dripping down the can, as he tossed the question around in his head. There were so many things in his past that he’d wished at the time had happened differently. But they all brought him to here and now. If he changed anything, what would he surrender instead? “I don’t know.”
“No?” Dahlia popped the top on her drink and took a long swallow. “You don’t have some grand plan to right all the wrongs? Remake this place in your image?”
“That would be a remarkably dull place. I’m great and all, but I work better with an audience.”
She laughed. “I’ve never met a god like you before.” Words offered so casually, as if meeting gods was an everyday occurrence.
“Funny?”
“Relatable,” Dahlia said.
It wasn’t a common trait among gods. “I’ve never met a Noble like you.”
“Ex. Know a lot of us, do you?”
“More exes than currents. Don’t you usually travel in pairs?” It was a question Gwydion had since last night.
Her expression slipped. “We do. But Magnus and I had a difference in opinion.”
“About what? If I may ask.”
“What qualities make a god worth knowing.” Dahlia’s smile was back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “She wanted someone to worship; I’m over that.”
Gwydion was over being worshiped. “I understand.”
His phone rang. Kirby? The screen said the call was international. Norway? “Hello?” He couldn’t keep the hope from his voice.
“S’me.”
Starkad.
“Is Kirby with you?” Not the most polite thing Gwydion could have asked, but the two of them had surrendered small talk decades ago.
Starkad’s growl wasn’t quite human. “No. Not there?”
“No. You, she, and Brit vanished during the quake. How the fuck did you get to Norway?”
“Don’t know. Come fetch.”
The fractured speech was a bad sign. It took a serious threat to push Starkad to shift.
“I’ve got this,” Frey said.
Gwydion looked up to see him on the phone as well. He vanished, and reappeared seconds later with Fenrir and Starkad. Fen must have been who Frey was on the phone with.
“I changed my mind,” Gwydion said. “If I could alter time and space, I’d learn how to teleport.”
Dahlia took in the scene with a neutral expression. “Don’t blame you.”
Starkad whipped his head in her direction with a low, threating growl, and strode across the room.
Fuck. Gwydion stepped between him and Dahlia.
“Not a friendly.” Starkad spoke through clenched teeth.
“She’s with us.” Fen joined them. He kissed Dahlia on the forehead. “Hey, Duckie.”
She stepped closer to Fen and farther from Starkad. “Welcome back.”
“She’s a Noble. The fuck is she doing here?” Starkad demanded.
“She’s—” Gwydion’s gaze landed on Starkad’s arm. The limb was twisted and black from the shoulder down. “What the hell happened to you?” Gwydion stepped closer, examining without touching, and his medical training took over. “I need supplies. Scalpel. Gauze. Staples.” He’d prefer an operating table, but with field triage, one didn’t always get what they wanted.
Fen sighed. “Shit. It didn’t look that bad before. The teleporting must have made it worse.”
“It’s not going to matter.” Dahlia’s confidence was gone, replaced with a timid tone. She was half-hidden behind Fen. “If that’s a wound from a TOM bullet, the only thing that might help is amputation, and even then it’s iffy. Gods, how are you still standing?”
Starkad cracked his neck and rotated his shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. It doesn’t feel like anything. Why the fuck is she here?”
Frey emitted a faint glow, the same color neon as the club’s sign. He was pissed. “Fen told you we vouch for her.”
“Did she tell you who she is?” Starkad looked at Gwydion.
Gwydion wasn’t interested in being in the middle of this battle. He understood that TOM graduates were trained to lie, but he preferred to trust what his gut said about a person over non-stop paranoia. He hated that the last pair of Nobles he, Brit, and Starkad ran into had died. Brit had her reasons for killing them, but the deaths were still tragic. “We already covered that. Noble. TOM. She brought us some important information, and I’m more concerned about your arm,” he said.
Starkad knocked Gwydion’s hand away. “What does she want in return?”
“For you to not kill me?” Dahlia said meekly.
“She has a new prophecy.” Gwydion needed something to diffuse this situation. “About Kirby. Where she might be.”
Starkad snapped his jaw shut. “Where?”
“The Followers of Urd have her.” Dahlia could barely be heard now.
Starkad roared and slammed his fist—the bad one—through the closest table. That wasn’t right. Starkad was strong, but not punch-holes-through-two-inch-solid-oak-like-it-was-paper strong.
Chapter Twenty
Min
The world that materialized around Min and Aya came with a hail of gunfire.
Kirby, Brit, and another woman their age were crouched behind a table. Min and Aya ducked to join them.
Not that the table was big or sturdy enough to offer any protection. Copper-jacketed lead was evicted from Min’s skin the instant it pierced. It was like being pelted with tiny pieces of hail—irritating, but more inconvenient than anything.
“What are you doing here?” Kirby demanded.
Min wasn’t offended by her tone—she’d probably hoped for a combatant to come to her aid.
Brit surveyed the landscape. “And did you bring an assault rifle? Carbine? They’re not that far out. I’ll take anything with a rifle round.”
“We’re looking for you, and now that we have you, we’re leaving,” Min said. He placed a hand on Aya’s shoulder, as she did the same to Kirby and Brit.
The gunfire paused.
Why were they still here?
“They’re reloading. Run,” Kirby barked.
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“This way.” The other woman directed them behind the buildings and up a small back street. She led them into a local church “They won’t find us, as long as no one does anything stupid.” She directed a glare at Kirby.
Kirby held up her hands. “Your spiffy we’ll be incognito, I promise magic failed. Don’t blame me.”
“I do blame you.”
This wasn’t the time to argue. “What happened?” Min asked Aya. “Why are we still here?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have dropped into a war zone with a goddess of war who refuses to fight.” Kirby’s tone was snide.
Aya gave a soft huff. “I have my reasons for what I did, and I’ll ask your forgiveness when we’re clear.”
Min didn’t like sitting here. Waiting. “Why are we still here, then? Take us back to NEON.”
“I can’t.” Aya’s bravado vanished. “I’ve been trying. I’m stuck here.”
They ran into something similar on the TOM campus, when Kirby had been undercover. This wasn’t good.
Brit nudged the other woman. “You’re hiding us, aren’t you? Let us leave.”
“I can’t. I’m trying to go, myself.” Her dark-rimmed eyes were wide with panic. “Something else is keeping us here.”
“Even if our pursuers can’t see us, if we stay here, it won’t take them long to find us via process of elimination.” Kirby surveyed the area. She gestured down the hall. “Out that way. Brit, keep an eye on Magnus. Min, watch my back. You”—she glared at Aya—“don’t get in our way.”
Gunfire shredded the wooden doors and sent stained glass flying. Everyone ducked behind the nearest pillars, half-walls, or benches, though the shrapnel slammed into an invisible wall before it hit any of them. Kirby stayed close to Magnus. Interesting.
“For fuck’s sake.” A soft glow radiated around Aya, growing brighter until it was nearly blinding. A horizontal spread of spears appeared in a half circle, floating in the air in front of her.
You can’t just kill these people. The protest died on Min’s tongue. These people were trying to kill them.
“They’re wearing class four body armor,” Brit said at the same time Kirby muttered, “So you do remember how to fight.”
Aya’s glare at Kirby was withering.
Kirby stared back, unflinching. “She needs targets. I’ll cover you. Find a spot where you can see.”
Brit crouched and sprinted across the room. A few bullets struck the air in front of her, but not her. She slid into position behind a thick wooden post. Each time she popped her head out, another hail of gunfire rained on her position.
After six rounds of that, she ran back. “Two at ten o’clock. Behind the Chevy. One in the copy shop. Two more in the building across the street, second floor, two o’clock.”
Aya flicked her hand and the spears flew away, seeking their targets.
Min felt five lives snuff out in rapid succession, and suppressed his grief at the death. “She got them all.”
An eerie calm settled over the church.
“I still can’t leave,” Magnus said softly. “Something’s keeping us here.”
Aya held out her hands. “Let me try again, now that the enemy is gone.”
They all joined hands, except for Magnus who stepped back.
“Are you coming?” Min asked. It was difficult to believe Kirby would leave an ally behind.
“No,” everyone else said at the same time.
Aya shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m also unable to leave.” Her voice was heavy with resignation.
“Maybe you’re trying to take too many people.” Magnus’s timidness had vanished. “Could you go alone or with just Min?”
“My magic doesn’t work that way.” Condescension bled into Aya’s retort.
Magnus didn’t look concerned. “You seem surprised it’s not working at all. How can you be so certain its behavior hasn’t changed?”
Aya raised an eyebrow. “Vidar and Hel may have raised all of you to not fear the gods, but unlike the others, you’re mortal. Yes, I know who you are.”
“Not a secret.” Magnus shrugged.
“If I can leave, I’ll return promptly with backup,” Aya said.
And she was gone.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Min said to Magnus. “I seem to be the only one here who doesn’t know you.” Though she knew him enough to use his name.
“She’s TOM.” Kirby stepped between them. “Supposedly FU wants me dead, so TOM is keeping me safe.”
Min wanted to argue the ridiculous notion, but coincidences were stacking too high for him to write off the idea.
Magnus rolled her eyes. “I was, until you shattered my wards. I wanted to go for pastries and catch up with my sisters. You had to bring the heat down on us.”
Where was Aya? She should have landed in NEON in a blink, and at least Gwydion would have been ready to go that instant.
“We should go before the police show up.” Magnus nodded toward the back of the church.
Where were the police? A hail of gunfire had broken out here, and there were no sirens. In fact, there were no other people. This wasn’t a large city, but it was still a city, mid-morning, in the middle of the week.
“Are you certain you can’t take us from this place with whatever you used to bring us here?” Kirby asked.
Magnus shook her head. “Why would I stick around if I didn’t have to?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Kirby eyed her with suspicion. “Brit?”
“Point. Destination?” They’d moved on from questioning Magnus and were making plans for next steps.
Min knew all of that without questioning. It didn’t occur to him immediately that there was anything odd about their conversations. “We need to stay local.”
“Our hunters know we’re here. Staying isn’t smart,” Kirby said.
“But no one knows where we are right now.” Min looked at Magnus. Apparently she was responsible for keeping the world from looking in their direction. “As long as it stays that way, we need to be where Aya and the others can find us again.”
Brit shook her head. “We can’t just sit and wait.”
“What do you propose?” Min was open to reasonable alternatives. “We don’t have a magical way back to Chicago, so we can fly or drive. By the time we get there, they may be here.” There was no way to tell why Aya hadn’t returned with reinforcements. “If they come back here, where will Starkad look for you, Kirby?”
She dragged in a deep breath. “The house is near, within walking distance. If Magnus-I-don’t-know-why-we’re-stuck-here keeps us hidden with her mysterious magic, it’s probably safest.”
Brit frowned. “The house? The one where...”
“You shot Mark, yeah. That house.” Kirby was already walking north. Min followed, as did Magnus.
Brit strolled in a position a few steps ahead, and Kirby fell back the same distance. It kept the four of them close enough to speak, let the women keep an eye on Magnus, and didn’t completely block the sidewalk. Though Min got the impression no one would notice them enough to find them in the way, regardless.
“There’s nowhere else?” Brit asked. “Firing range, maybe?”
Kirby’s chuckle was dry. “Seems like it’s the week for us to face our demons. Starkad and Gwydion know where it is, and they’ll look there if Aya brings them here and they can’t find us. The only other people who know are TOM.” She glanced at Magnus. “Am I right?”
Magnus smirked. “I know where most of Min’s properties are, or I can pull a list quickly. I haven’t shared all of that information with the top, though.”
If Magnus and Dahlia had that kind of knowledge—the ability to track Min, despite how well he’d covered his tracks—they must have been TOM’s most dangerous team, regardless of whether or not they were armed.
Kirby drifted in a casual weave that took her closer to Brit, their feet lightly colliding before Kirby fell back.
Min tensed, prepared for whatever they planned next.
“Don’t.” Magnus sighed. “Taking me down doesn’t drop the wards, and it means you have to carry me. Killing me brings Vidar here. Now. Trust me, I’m better company.”
Other people walked along nearby sidewalks, but none came close to their group. It was as though the four walked in a giant bubble.
“You could be lying,” Min said.
She glanced at him. “You’re far more suspicious than I expected. Go ahead and find out. I’m not currently a threat, and you’ve picked the destination. Vidar? He’s a threat if something happens to me. FU? They’re a threat.”
Lance had been alerted to something at the same time Aya and Min had been. The gunfire Min appeared in the middle of felt like too much of a coincidence.
“What are you hoping to accomplish?” Min expected deception. He recognized the women’s behaviors and non-verbal cues. That didn’t make it any easier to trace it all back to a conclusion.
“I’ve already explained myself. I want Kirby and Brit back at TOM. Vidar has his reasons, I have my own, and they don’t happen to contradict each other.” Magnus frowned and worked her jaw.
That felt like a lot of information to reveal, but Min wasn’t practiced enough in the nuances of these people’s deceptions to know why.
“What are Vidar’s reasons?” Kirby asked.
“You’d have to ask him.”
If Min wasn’t satisfied with that answer, it was impossible that Kirby or Brit would be.
“But I want you to come back,” Magnus said. “I miss you. You’re my sisters.”
Kirby glanced at her, brows furrowed. “You could stay with us.”
Magnus sighed. “Look. Go play house, or whatever. Get it out of your system. I’ll be back in a few hours, and you can tell me what you’ve decided. I’m not going far, and I’ll know if you leave. You’ll make the right decision.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Starkad
The wolf lingered. Starkad was himself again—he could think, speak, process complex thought—but that primal need to hunt lingered near the surface. The pain in his arm had vanished, but the appendage felt more like wielding a familiar weapon than it did like his arm. Sparks raced through his veins. The world barely made sense.
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