Valkyrie Crowned

by Allyson Lindt

  “Watch her,” Kirby barked at Frey. “As in, make sure she doesn’t die.” Her feet left the ground, though she stayed low as she flew in a straight line toward Lance’s gut, zipping at the last moment to fly straight up and come down on one of their wings.

  Lance knocked her aside with his tail. She expected the counter, and twisted in a controlled fall, coming up with her sword pointed at what she hoped would be less dense armor under the arm.

  As she swept up, her target vanished.

  She pulled up short before she hit the ceiling of the cave, but a clawed hand grabbed her, squeezing until she thought her bones would shatter despite the shield. Lance flung her across the cave.

  She slammed into the wall with a grunt, grasping to catch her breath and recover before she hit the ground. It didn’t work.

  “How far out is everyone?” Magnus’s pained question overlapped itself in Kirby’s ear and the cave. “She can’t do this alone.”

  “Three minutes, at least,” Brit replied.

  Kirby stumbled to her feet, and attacked again. This probably wouldn’t kill her, but it was going to hurt.

  Each attack was rebuffed, either on purpose, or as she bounced off dragon scale. And that vanishing and reappearing trick was really fucking irritating.

  None of the countless battles Kirby had been in over the centuries prepared her for this. As with the last two dragon fights, she wasn’t making any headway. This was far worse than before, being unable to maneuver in this tight space and having to protect two others at the same time.

  Magnus’s whimpers of pain, like she was trying her best to suppress them and couldn’t, only made things worse.

  Kirby needed help with this fight. Another person to pick up Lance’s feints and pin them down. She dove for his belly.

  They swiped at her, one claw penetrating her armor and going clean through her shoulder.

  Kirby couldn’t hold back her scream of pain. She dropped to the cave floor on one knee, losing precious seconds as the wound knit itself shut.

  Lance turned his attention to Frey and Magnus.

  Kirby pushed past the lingering agony, and charged at Lance’s back, aiming for that same spot under their arm. There had to be a weak spot on this creature.

  Flame filled the cavern. Kirby felt the intense heat, despite the fire bouncing off her shield.

  Magnus screamed again, but the energy wasn’t there.

  Kirby hit her mark.

  Lance howled and their dragon form flickered toward human, like bad movie special effects.

  Kirby landed next to Magnus and Frey, her back to the wall. “We’ll be out of here soon.” As soon as she could stop fighting long enough to focus on pushing her shield outward again to shatter this magical cage.

  “I wasn’t going to leave you behind.” Magnus’s voice was weak. “That was the order, but I couldn’t.” She dragged in a strained breath. She wouldn’t last much longer. “I meant everything I said. You’re my sister.”

  Lance was a solid dragon again.

  None of them would survive long enough for backup if something didn’t change now. Kirby knew what to do. “Fight by my side?”

  Magnus’s laugh ended in a wet, hacking cough. “You’re insane. I can’t even stand up.”

  “Don’t,” Frey warned.

  It wasn’t his decision, and they were out of time. Kirby had no idea what she was doing, but instinct took over. She knelt next to Magnus. “Sisters always? In life and death? In battle and peace?”

  “Sisters always.” Magnus grasped her hand.

  “What are you doing?” Starkad’s question echoed in Kirby’s ear.

  She’d explain herself when they were out of danger. The spark that flowed between Kirby and Magnus was a flash of blinding white that filled the room. When Kirby’s vision cleared, Magnus stood next to her, healed and wearing stunning auburn wings and Valkyrie armor.

  “Don’t let him get hurt.” Kirby nodded at Frey.

  She and Magnus launched at Lance.

  The two front attack forced Lance’s attention in multiple directions. Kirby drew his fire while Magnus charged from behind. She bounced off dragon scale, and swept back into the air.

  She was catching on quickly. Good.

  Lance’s tail flicked toward Magnus, and Kirby swept under, aiming for anything tender. The dragon vanished, and Kirby swooped straight up, colliding with Magnus as Lance reappeared.

  Kirby shook off the crash and pointed Magnus toward the wings, before gliding in front of the dragon’s face again, making a more direct attack.

  Kirby couldn’t expect Magnus to fight like Brit. They all had the same training, but the familiarity wasn’t there. Magnus had never been on a field assignment with Kirby. But they both new the basics.

  “Delta pinch, high seven,” Kirby shouted.

  Magnus’s blank stare faded into recognition, and she took point on the maneuver.

  The distinctly different snarls and growls of two wolves greeted Kirby, and she knew without looking that Starkad and Fen had joined the attack on the ground.

  Lance wouldn’t think twice about stepping on them, but they were another distraction.

  A large stake struck the dragon and splintered, as a gunshot echoed off the cavern walls. Brit and Gwydion were here too.

  “Get us out of here,” Kirby shouted at Frey.

  “I can’t until you do your thing.”

  Right. She focused more power into her shield, pushing out.

  Fen dodged a foot, and collided with Starkad, who rolled with the mistake and leaped up, teeth bared, and bouncing off Magnus as she swept in to spear an arm.

  All three of them clattered in different directions, shook it off, and charged again.

  Kirby wove between them, familiar with most of their moves, but not Fen’s. Each time a breath of flame or a claw caught her, the wound took too long to heal, and the pain didn’t evaporate. The way Fen’s attacks slowed, Magnus’s dives faltered, and Starkad spent longer pausing than running, it was the same for them.

  Kirby needed to coordinate. She also needed to clear the path for Frey to get us out of her. “I’m falling back,” she shouted.

  Lance fired another blast of flame at her, and she deflected it. The heat singed her skin, despite not making contact, and left blisters in its wake.

  She hated to do it, but she let the other’s draw the dragon’s attention, and focused harder on pushing out her shield.

  As she had when she and Brit were at the café with Magnus, Kirby met resistance. Unlike that morning, though, she couldn’t push past it.

  “Still stuck here,” Frey shouted.

  Kirby clenched her jaw. “I’m trying.” She cut in a straight path toward Magnus, and hovered near the new Valkyrie. “I need you to push out your shield,” Kirby said. “When you meet resistance, keep pushing. But don’t stop fighting.”

  Magnus nodded, and Kirby felt something new. A caress of magic. A second wave of protection. Neat trick. Too bad there was no time to dwell on it.

  Whatever Lance was doing to keep them here was still up, though. No matter how hard Kirby pushed, she couldn’t force her shield past it.

  “It’s still not working,” she said.

  If they were stuck here much longer, someone was going to take a hit they couldn’t recover from.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Brit

  “What’s different about now?” Frey shouted.

  Brit reloaded, and opened fire again. Each shot was deliberate, hitting a new spot. Watching for any flinch from the dragon. None of it made a difference. She flicked quick glances to Kirby and Magnus, and tried to ignore the envy muttering inside. It was true, she didn’t want to be Kirby, but Magnus was a Valkyrie now. Stunning. Immortal. Powerful.

  Magnus ducked under a claw and soared up, her gaze landing on Brit. “You,” Magnus said. “You were the difference.” The tail slapped her in the chest and sent her flying into the wall.

  “Focus.” Kirby was in
full combat mode. That was stunning.

  Was Magnus right? Kirby was the one pushing at the cafe, but she’d warned Brit something was coming. The only thing Brit wanted at the time was to leave. To find their friends and go back to them.

  Starkad snarled and leaped for the dragon as Kirby tried to draw their attention. Flame encased him anyway, but magic kept him from so much as a singe.

  Even him. Brit had missed the grumpy asshole as much as she had everyone else. Well, maybe not quite as much.

  Brit recognized the maneuver as Kirby and Magnus sped toward Lance in another attack. Brit and Kirby practiced an on-ground version all the time as a sniper team. Kirby would go high, draw Lance’s attention, Magnus would hit with a soft blow, and Kirby would strike harder when Lance turned away.

  Magnus jumped the gun, striking a fraction too soon, and Kirby fumbled mid-air to recover.

  In the field the other day, Kirby’s attention had been solely on Vera—Urd—and again, Brit had wanted so badly to leave.

  She could shoot and pray to get out of here at the same time. She’d been praying half her life to an asshole god, why not to some mysterious power she may or may not have?

  Brit wished, prayed, pushed for all she was worth, past the suffocating buzz of magic in the air. The same sensation she’d felt with Urd, but corrupted.

  Something shattered in the field of energy.

  Magnus vanished. Blink, she was gone.

  The fuck?

  “To me. Now,” Frey shouted.

  The dragon roared, and fire erupted from their mouth again, striking something and billowing out around them like a wall—a magical shield—kept it from progressing.

  Everyone grabbed Frey, and they blinked out of the cave, landing back at NEON.

  The bottles behind the bar rattled as six individuals dropped to the floor or onto the nearest piece of furniture. Brit ached places she didn’t know she could ache, and that was saying a lot based on her past.

  Everyone was covered with sooth and dirt. The group’s collection of deep scratches and burn marks were healing slowly, but they were healing.

  Except for Gwydion. Blood continued to trickle from a large gash across his arm, and he was pale.

  “She’s gone. I’m such an idiot.” Kirby raked her fingers through her hair.

  Brit pointed her toward Gwydion, and Kirby sob-gasped.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Kirby muttered over and over as she rushed to Gwydion’s side and focused on healing him.

  Brit echoed the sentiment. They’d survived, but they hadn’t rescued Aya or the other gods, and there was no way they could take that dragon down. If they had Gluskab with them next time—a god who could summon deadly earthquakes and typhoons, one after another—they were fucked.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Kirby

  Fucking idiot. Kirby wanted to slam her head into a wall—the one near the stage, in NEON’s main room looked good. That had to be brick. How could she make such basic mistake? She wasn’t any sort of Queen Valkyrie. The first chance she had to share the gift with someone else, they bailed. She was shit at reading people, and her instinct lied.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” Frey’s angry question mirrored her thoughts and drew her attention.

  Starkad stepped between them, anger flashing in his eyes. “She made what she thought was the right call, in the heat of battle.”

  Starkad’s defending Kirby actually made her feel worse. Why didn’t he see how big a mistake she’s made?

  “What happened?” Dahlia asked. She was seated at a nearby table, where they’d been left to monitor.

  Min had left her, to approach the group. When he reached for Frey, Fen growled menacingly.

  “She made Magnus into a Valkyrie.” Did Brit sound sad?

  Kirby tried with her first. She really had. Grief and self-loathing bubbled inside, threatening to overwhelm in a feeling she was all too familiar with.

  “Hey.” Gwydion’s voice was soft, only meant for her. “Stop.”

  Not this time.

  “Is Magnus here?” Dahlia’s face lit up, and her tone was hopeful.

  Frey kept his glare focused on Kirby. “Of course not. She bolted the instant she had the chance. You were idiotic, irresponsible—”

  “It’s not your decision.” Min’s voice was hard. “This is Kirby’s power, and she made the call.”

  “That’s a bullshit excuse.” Fen stood next to Frey, a united front of judge and jury against Kirby’s mistake. “Next you’re going to say fate wouldn’t have given her this ability if she wasn’t capable of using it correctly.”

  Gwydion squeezed Kirby’s hand with his now-healed one. “Show of hands,” he said. “Who here has any faith in the fates at this point.”

  Starkad reached behind him, to grab her other hand. “I trust Kirby.”

  Their support would be comforting if they were right.

  “Such a loyal lapdog,” Frey taunted.

  Starkad growled, his canines and jaw extending as he bared his teeth

  “Everyone step back. We need to stop.” Wonderful Min. Always the voice of reason.

  “We need to go back now, maybe with someone who doesn’t give everything up to our enemies, and get my sister.” Frey spoke through clenched teeth.

  Gwydion stepped forward, closer to Starkad, forming a wall in front of Kirby. She wanted to stop him, remind him she didn’t need protection, but she also wanted to hide. She shouldn’t feel this way. She was better than this.

  “Aya wasn’t there. No one but Grytha was.” Gwydion wasn’t pale anymore, but he didn’t look like he was at full strength.

  “She—Grytha—told us the others were somewhere else,” Brit said.

  Fen focused on Starkad. “You’re not this gullible. How are you buying that any of this is right?”

  “I trust the people I keep company with. Their word, instinct, and choice.” Starkad was half-wolf by now, but his tone was clear, human, and hard.

  “You want to prove how reliable and bad ass you all are? Let’s go back. Now. I can’t abandon Aya,” Frey said.

  Dahlia made the tiniest, most unobtrusive cough. “I want her back too, but if you guys came back in this condition, how does running back there now make things go better?”

  “You’re welcome to leave without us.” Gwydion tossed the words out like it didn’t devour him to pretend he didn’t care about another life. This had to be eating at him, though.

  Frey let out a long hiss. “You swore—”

  “To help you protect Aya,” Min said. “We will.”

  Indignation snapped inside Kirby. “As a matter of fact, you came to us as friends. Doing us a favor. Information about the prophecies, you said. All to protect Kirby, you said. And I’ve believed the two of you were the same friends I’ve always known. But if you were, you would have approached me. Asked me. I would have helped you, Frey, because I know you. I thought I did. I made a mistake. Don’t be stupid by adding to the list.”

  “Don’t be—” Fen stared at her with disbelief. “You insisted we work with Vidar and his band of little killer soldiers. Now that it didn’t go well, do you need to rest your broken ego, and come up with another naively stupid—”

  Starkad shifted to full wolf in a blink and lunged.

  “Excuse me.” Magnus’s voice was like pressing freeze frame on the room. It would have been humorous if any of the tension evaporated.

  Kirby’s brain froze too. She came back. To taunt them?

  “You swore you’d never set foot in here.” Dahlia was the first to speak.

  Magnus ducked her head and stayed near the doorway. “I meant what I said in the cave, Kirby. I wasn’t going to leave you. Vidar pulled me— I was so furious. I told him to fuck off and I walked away.”

  Dahlia squealed and sprinted across the room to wrap Magnus in a hug.

  Wait. What? Magnus was back? Kirby didn’t make a mistake? “What about them being family? Things being different? Every reason you
gave for not coming with us before?”

  Dahlia stepped aside, but Magnus didn’t look up. “None of these decisions have been easy for me. I didn’t want to leave them or you all. But he left me there, and you saved me. I made you a promise and you trusted me with this.” Her wings appeared, stunning auburn, before they vanished again. “That says a lot.”

  “Great. Get the fuck out.” Frey clipped off the words.

  Dahlia scowled.

  “Duckie...” Fen’s tone was one of warning.

  So much for things being better.

  “Then I leave with her.” Dahlia grabbed Magnus’s hand.

  “We can all go, since I’m responsible for this. Or do you need our help too much for that?” Kirby was tired of the pressure and accusation from all sides, but especially from those who were supposed to be her allies.

  She still wasn’t completely secure with Magnus’s about face, but did see any reason for her to be here if her story wasn’t true. Magnus and Vidar had what they wanted.

  “Do you blame us for being suspicious?” Frey asked.

  Kirby shook her head. “I blame you for not trusting me. Dahlia. If you don’t trust us, why are we here?”

  “She can stay at the house on Cottage Street.” Fen was resigned. “You know the one.”

  Dahlia’s grin was back, wide and bright and genuine. She skipped across the room to give Fen a hug and kiss him on the cheek. She cast a glare at Frey when she pulled back.

  “You’re getting soft in your old age,” Starkad muttered without malice.

  Fen rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

  This didn’t solve everything. Magnus could still be lying, but after so many twists and turns, the deception would become too complicated. Everyone at TOM knew the best lies were simple and closest to the truth. Having Magnus be reluctant to be here before, then throwing her into danger, then pulling her from the fight, then sending her back to beg forgiveness? Too many steps. Too many places for something to go wrong.

  Kirby had bigger concerns, though. Like walking back into a dragon’s cave, where they were expected, and they still didn’t have the best intel in return. “You want us to save Aya? We take a small strike team. Most of us have already fought together. We go in fast and get out the same way.”