Ascension: Nate Temple Series Book 13

by Shayne Silvers

  Freya hesitated, but finally nodded. “Yes and no.” Alice, sensing the conversation was growing serious, suddenly skipped away to intercept some Valkyries. She began touching their weapons and speaking with them excitedly. The warrior maidens gobbled it up, instantly falling victim to her wiles. Within moments, they were playing with her hair and showing off their weapons, allowing Freya and I to walk further from the main hall.

  “Alice has them wrapped around her finger and they don’t even know it. Or they don’t care,” Freya said, smiling to reassure me. “She’s a bright child—smart enough to know she needed allies other than me.”

  I smiled, nodding my head. “She found the toughest inmates in the prison yard and made an alliance,” I said approvingly. “Atta’ girl.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Speak plainly, Freya. We don’t have much time for privacy, and I need to know that the pups are safe. Gunnar and Ashley need to know. They placed a lot of trust in you to deliver their babes safely. They even went along with the idea to deliver the children as pups—which is strange as all hell, Freya, even for werewolves. So to suddenly have this growth spurt and mist ability…”

  Freya nodded, not taking offense by my words as she leaned up against the balcony.

  “Let me ease your concern in the simplest manner first,” she began, checking that we were out of earshot from any other gods. “I gave them some of my own power to keep them safe. To make them stronger. And to shield them from accessing those godly powers, birthing them as pups added a second layer of protection—for themselves and everyone else.”

  I blinked, slowly turning to glance at her. “You did what?” I whispered, stunned.

  She nodded, not looking at me. “I have been known to go overboard when it related to protecting those I care about,” she said in a haunted tone.

  I didn’t offer a comment, knowing all about the story of her son, Baldur. After a seer told Odin of his son’s untimely death, Freya visited every living and non-living entity she could find, and made them all swear an oath not to harm her son, making him impervious to harm. With those oaths in place, the Aesir soon made sport of it, hurling spears, sticks, rocks, and anything else at him. But nothing harmed him—every projectile simply bounced off the shining god’s chest. Loki, annoyed by the attention his brother was getting, eventually tricked Freya into admitting that the only entity she did not obtain an oath from was mistletoe, so he carved a spear from it and tricked the blind god, Hod, to throw it at Baldur during the next display of Baldur’s invulnerability.

  The mistletoe spear killed Baldur on the spot, and the gods freaked the hell out.

  Because Baldur’s death was the first presage to Ragnarök.

  Obviously, Ragnarök hadn’t actually started, so I was betting Baldur was still alive and well. In fact, I had based my entire research of the Norse pantheon on the assumption that all of the gods still lived, so that I would only have pleasant surprises when I learned some stories were actually true.

  “Seeing how devoted you were to protecting them…” she trailed off, dragging a nail across the railing. “It was inspiring. So I chose to give up some of my godhood, whatever that is worth these days,” she added, her eyes flicking my way to reference my godkiller power—a constant reminder that gods were no longer safe from recrimination for their actions.

  I nodded, wondering if Gunnar and Ashley knew anything about this. “Does that make them demigods?” I whispered, my mind racing with both concerns and excitement.

  She shook her head. “I do not believe so. But it will help them remain strong in the event that there are complications as a result of Ashley’s…unprecedented pregnancy, and her time in Niflheim.”

  I thought about her words, thinking furiously. “That sounds like you used rocket fuel to gas up a lawnmower…”

  She blinked and then let out a series of coughs, masking her smile with her hand. “How…visual. But yes. The metaphor sounds accurate. We are uniquely bonded.”

  “Uniquely bonded, how?” I asked, frowning.

  She discreetly pulled back her sleeve to reveal a dozen tiny bite marks on her wrist—the size of puppy teeth. My eyes widened and I looked back up at her.

  She nodded, lowering her sleeve. “They are teething, and Makayla likes to bite her brother’s paws when she’s losing.”

  Without warning, I gently grasped her hand in mine and bowed as I held her wrist to my lips, feigning chivalry. Rather than kissing her skin, I took a deep, discreet inhale. Then I lowered her wrist and smiled at her. “My lady is too kind,” I said, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear—so they would think I was merely being polite to the Queen of Asgard.

  Then I held out my elbow again. She took it, smiling as we continued to walk. “Fresh blood,” I told her. “Had to be sure it wasn’t an illusion of some kind. I hear that’s going around.” My mind was racing with the implications. She was bonded to the pups. If they were harmed, she was harmed. And vice versa. Which meant I needed to make sure Freya didn’t come to any harm.

  It also meant that she would do everything possible to keep those pups—and herself—safe. And the way Asgard was looking with all the secretive looks and muted conversations, I could see any number of people taking out their frustrations on Freya in Odin’s absence.

  Chapter 15

  Freya smiled at my gesture, shaking her head. “Paranoia makes the heart last longer.”

  I grunted my agreement. “If you saw something alarming in the pregnancy, why didn’t you simply use magic to heal them as they came out. Why give them a gift that lingered?” I asked carefully.

  She glanced over at me with a suddenly cool look. “Because my son tried to stab me while I was delivering the babes. That cost me five precious minutes at a time when every second counted. I did not know what might happen post-pregnancy, so I gave them the best protection that I could afford. Thank you for saving my life, but be careful when judging something you know nothing about.”

  I dipped my chin, acknowledging her answer and silently apologizing. “Perhaps you should consider that my entire life has been riddled with interference from gods, and that it has given me justified biases on their actions.”

  She studied me thoughtfully, and finally nodded her head. “Then we are both wiser for seeing our lands from different mountain peaks. I know your words come from the heart, and that you are interested only in keeping the pups safe.”

  I nodded, and even gave her a faint smile. I saw that Odin was still speaking with the gaggle of gods, but he continued to glance at us curiously, looking as if he wanted to split himself in two in order to find out what we were discussing while still managing his underlings.

  “Please give the situation some thought and get back with me.”

  “Of course,” she said haughtily. “I didn’t go to all that trouble for them to die prematurely—especially not now,” she added, absently rubbing her wrists. “You are being very secretive.”

  I nodded. “You’re going to see me do some crazy things soon, but I need you to back me up, no questions asked. And not to tell anyone—anyone—at all. Unless you trust them with your life. Because if my plan goes tits up as a result of loose lips, I’ll trace it back to the source and kill everyone.” I met her eyes. “Everyone.”

  She studied me, looking a little pale.

  I nodded. “I mean it, Freya. You don’t know me that well, but I don’t fuck around when it comes to my friends. And everything I do is for my friends, believe it or not.”

  She nodded. “I think you’re actually telling the truth. Even when it benefits you as well, the underlying motivation is always them, first.”

  I smirked. “I have it on good authority that I’ve made one or two selfish decisions in my day. I’m not perfect. But lately…yeah. Friends first.” I waited patiently. “Can I count on you? Even with my threat?”

  “Gods help me, yes,” she finally murmured.

  I nodded in relief. So far, my plan was going smoothly. Even with Fr
eya’s revelation about being bonded to the pups. In fact, that might have just solved a separate problem for me.

  I flicked my gaze towards Odin. “Where has he been? You said he hasn’t been here much, but you and Alice have been here the whole time, right? Why would he warn me not to come? Is something specific happening?”

  She shrugged, not looking over at her husband. “We love each other fiercely, but we do not always act as husband and wife. He is in a position of power over me, speaking authoritatively. Taking love out of the equation, he is king, and I am queen. In that respect, some of the other gods are technically higher in authority than I am.”

  I nodded, thinking of Callie for some strange reason. “It must be hard to have a working relationship with each other…” I said, sincerely.

  She grunted. “You have no idea. If you love someone, never work with them. Especially not if you are on different authority levels. At some point, the duties will collide, and you will be forced to pick obligation over affection. Or, worse, affection over obligation. The victim changes depending on which you choose.”

  I nodded, licking my lips. I realized I had stumbled into a conversation I suddenly didn’t want to have. I’d rather talk about the mating habits of the common Draccus at this point. “Noted.”

  She leaned out over the balcony, pointing to a section of blue flowers as she spoke in barely a whisper. “He has been obsessed with finding Gungnir and Fenrir. I’m not sure which he fears more, but they are close for his full affection. He hasn’t slept, and I hardly ever see him, but when I do, he is exhausted. Hugin and Munin haven’t rested for weeks.” She glanced over at me. “I do believe he will have harsh words with you for losing his spear,” she warned me.

  “Understatement,” I murmured.

  “Of course, he has also been traveling the Realms to reconsolidate his power, address Thor’s death, and formally announce his return. But like before, he does not have Gungnir at his side. There has been word that some doubt his claim. That he might not truly be the Allfather, but Loki in disguise—since it is whispered that Loki has escaped. Mordred’s doing, most likely. Or Loki’s for that matter.”

  “He’s panicking,” I mused, wincing at the term since it reminded me of my old friend, Pan.

  Freya nodded. “To put it mildly. And following Thor’s death, you make a surprise visit to Asgard—the scene of the crime, as it were. It puts Odin in a difficult position.” She slowly turned to look at me. “I know you have the best intentions—for that of your friend and their babes—but you rarely make things easy for anyone, including yourself.”

  I grunted. “Yeah. But it’s just so much more fun this way. There’s nothing quite like starting off your day by ruining someone else’s.”

  She smirked, smiling absently. “I will take your word for it.”

  I spotted Alice seated on a Valkyrie’s knee, fiddling with a dagger as big as her head. “I hope Alice is progressing well with you. She’s safe, right? And pulling her own weight?” I asked.

  Freya laughed. “You would be a good father, Nate. You asked if she was safe in a pantheon brimming with vengeful, petty killers. But you followed it up with making sure she was earning her keep. Most fathers would have stopped at protection, but you don’t value protection in and of itself, do you?”

  I frowned, not having actually broken it down like that. “Um…”

  “You know that learning to arm your underlings is more important than keeping them safe. Both are needed, but one trumps the other.”

  I nodded, understanding what she meant. “Definitely. There will always be a big bad wolf who can blow your house down. Simply learning how to improve your defenses is not enough. Not in the long run. Not in our world. Brick-layers die, but brick-throwers thrive.”

  She smiled. “Well put. It’s endearing to see a man arming a child rather than placing her on a safe pedestal. Children need to embrace danger, to learn to face their fears with their chins up.”

  I arched an eyebrow, slowly risking a glance at her. Freya’s eyes glittered, and I could tell she was deep in her own dark thoughts. “Maybe dial down the crazy a little bit,” I suggested politely. “The message stood on its own. The homicidal smile was overkill.”

  She blinked, slowly turning to face me. “I think the Valkyries will like you very much.”

  I grinned. “I sure as hell hope so!”

  “I am in charge of them, you know. Everyone thinks it is Odin, but I was technically the first Valkyrie, and I, alone, command them. I let Odin take the credit, preferring anonymity.”

  I blinked at her. “Really?”

  She shrugged. “Recognition is for rejects. Real power is quiet. You should remember that.”

  I nodded, remembering reading a snippet about her leading the Valkyries, but I hadn’t been certain it was truth. “Wow. This whole conversation just turned terrifying. We’re cool, right? Because you’re scarier than I thought you were, and I’d like to make sure we’re cool.”

  She laughed lightly, swatting at my arm. “I had a wild, misspent youth. But we are cool, as you put it,” she murmured, rolling her eyes. “And I will teach Alice as if she were my own. No one knows that she has a flight of Valkyries watching her every move. I pity the fool who tests their vigilance.”

  I burst out laughing. “A-Team reference—check.”

  She glanced over, frowning. “Asgard Team?”

  “Never mind,” I said, chuckling as I recalled her lack of pop culture references. She hadn’t known about the Lord of the Rings, so cable television was hopeless. “Human thing.”

  “What are you really here for?” she asked. “It wasn’t just about the pups. I sense schemes in those green eyes.”

  I shrugged innocently. “I’m just trying to change the world, I guess.”

  “For the better?”

  I remained silent.

  “Answer me, wizard.”

  I shrugged again. “We will see.” She studied me thoughtfully, and finally gave me a slow nod. “I should probably mingle,” I told her. “I have a few others I want to talk to. Remember what I told you. Things are going to get weird, soon.”

  She nodded. “I stand ready.”

  I bowed politely and then turned away to walk around the room, fishing for conflicts or friendships.

  I would use either to my benefit.

  Chapter 16

  I spotted Alucard chatting it up with more of the einherjar, but I could tell he was keeping a very close eye on me as I moved about the room. Good.

  I saw Heimdall chatting with Tyr, so I dipped my head at the pair of them, silently wondering where they stood on the trust spectrum.

  I saw a blur of motion out of the corner of my eye, and I instinctively lashed out with my Fae magic to slow the projectile down as I leaned just out of harm’s way. With time slowed ever so slightly, I snatched the weapon out of the air, and used its momentum to spin in a full circle and throw it right back at my attacker. The hatchet slammed into the crotch of a giant statue with a loud cracking sound, missing my attacker’s ear by about three inches.

  A Valkyrie.

  I stormed towards her and planted a quick kiss on her cheek before she could stop me. Rather than killing me on the spot, she burst out laughing, confusing everyone who had stopped to stare at me.

  “The heavens are stained with the blood of men,” I quoted.

  “As the Valkyries sing their song,” Kára purred. She held her fingers to her cheek where I had kissed her, not even seeming aware that she was doing so. “It’s good to see you again, Nate.”

  “Better here than that shithole bar you own,” I teased. I jerked my chin at the hatchet beside her ear, nodding proudly. “That was pretty badass, eh? I’ve been practicing.”

  “I can tell,” she laughed, eyeing the castrated statue. “I hate feeling like there is a threat lurking over my shoulder. Thank you for saving this damsel in distress.”

  I scoffed. “Damsel of distress, more like.” She beamed proudly, as if I h
ad called her the most beautiful creature mankind had ever beheld.

  In all honesty, she was stunningly beautiful. Kára had long, blond hair that trailed back into a tight braid, and the sides of her head were cleanly shaved. She had one blue eye and one green eye, so I frequently felt a sense of vertigo when talking to her, finding myself focusing on one eye over the other. She was tall and lithe, with plenty of curves to balance out her ridiculously ripped muscles.

  She was even more dangerous than she was beautiful, and I’d spent quite a bit of time with her over the last few weeks. Initially, I’d heard about her and her hatchet-throwing bar from Achilles. It was where I’d first encountered Thor, so I’d made an effort to visit her and make sure we were on good terms after I destroyed her parking lot.

  Four pitchers of beer later, and we’d become fast friends.

  So when Gunnar thought I’d been hitting up the bars a lot, he hadn’t been wrong. I had quickly found that I rather enjoyed spending time with the deadly warrior maiden. Her name meant stormy one, and she had the temperament to prove it. She was snarky, afraid of nothing, she knew how to take care of herself, and she was entirely detached from my history in St. Louis. She also had a wealth of knowledge on the Norse pantheon.

  She knew all the juicy stories, and I’d eventually talked her into being my eyes and ears in Asgard.

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, winking at one of her fellow Valkyries—who smirked, rolling her eyes. Alice still sat on her lap, inspecting the same wicked dagger from earlier, utterly mesmerized by it. I doubted she’d even noticed the commotion or my near death.

  “What’s the real story around here?” I asked Kára softly. “Roll with my flirting. I’m putting on a show.”

  “I could forsake my vows for one of your shows,” she mused playfully. “Until I grew bored. You men all grow wearisome after a short time.”