Wings of the Valkyrie

by Charley Case

  “Good, I was hoping you would say that.” Mila didn’t say more, thanks to a sudden urge to look out past the rails of the deck. It was like when you decided to watch a scary movie and you had to force yourself to watch, although your mind was telling you to look away. She shook herself and turned to look into the house. Everyone had gone to bed hours ago, but she had been putting off the call, instead going over plans she had gone over a thousand times.

  “Hey, how’s the construction at Preston’s moving along? I hear he’s putting in facilities to double the G.A.E.L. teams.” Mila changed the topic as she saw that all the lights in the house were on, and wondered if she should turn them off when she went to bed, or if the house would take care of it.

  “I have to ask you something.” Carl sounded serious, and it snapped her wandering mind back to the present. “Why not give Azoth what he wants? Now, hear me out first. He tells you that if you bring the Reaper to him tomorrow, then he’ll leave Earth alone. Bam, you saved the world. But if you don’t, that’s World War Three, this time with wizards. The choice seems pretty clear to me.”

  Mila laughed. “Are you serious? I give him the Reaper, and he and his people become the most powerful beings in the universe. They would destroy everything.”

  “True, but my job is to protect Earth, not the universe.”

  “I can’t do that to those people, even if I never see them. I would know that billions were dying every day because of the choice I made. And besides, who’s to say he doesn’t come back and destroy Earth anyway?”

  “I hate to say this, but Azoth is unstoppable. If you kill him, he’ll come back again. It’s a never-ending cycle. The only way to truly get rid of him is to make him leave. Giving him the Reaper is the fastest way to do that. You would be a hero.”

  “I don’t want to be a hero, Carl. I want to do the right thing for my people.” She screwed up her face at that comment. Why had she called them her people? She shrugged. They were all Earthlings, she supposed. That kind of made them all the same people.

  She heard him draw a calming breath. “You’re going to start a war, child. Why do that? The answer is so easy. Give him the damned Reaper and be done with it.”

  “What’s wrong with you? I’m not giving him the fucking Reaper, Carl. That’s simply a longer form of suicide.”

  She was getting pissed. Who the fuck did he think he was? She thought he was a better person than someone who would sacrifice others to save his skin.

  That itch at the back of her mind came again, this time stronger. She had an almost overwhelming desire to look out over the railing and try to spot something, anything out in the darkness. She didn’t want to look out in the darkness, though, so instead she simply closed her eyes and crossed her arms as best she could while holding the phone to her ear.

  “I’m sorry. I’m trying to understand your thinking here.” Carl’s voice was cooler now that he had a few seconds to think his words over. “Hey, where are you, anyway?”

  “At a friend’s. We were afraid that Missy might have figured out the condo’s location, so we bugged out.” At the phrase “bugged out.” Mila suddenly realized how quiet it was out on the deck. Usually, there were at least half a million crickets and peepers singing their little horny hearts out.

  “Are you still in Denver?” His tone was casual.

  Why did he give a shit? “No, we left the state. Why do you want to know where I am?”

  “No reason, simply making small talk. You’re pretty lucky you left. A huge storm rolled in this afternoon—must have dumped an entire lake’s worth of water on us in roughly half an hour. How’s the weather where you are?” He sounded a little annoyed, which annoyed Mila right back.

  “Look Carl, I like you, but you’re starting to freak me out a little.”

  “Sorry. It’s late,” he said through a sudden yawn. “You woke me up when you called. I’m still trying to clear my head.” There wasn’t a hint of tiredness in his voice. “Okay, so if you won’t give him the Reaper, then how do you plan on fighting him, little one? You must have some ace up your sleeve. Let me guess. It’s the dwarf, isn’t it?”

  She swore she heard his eyes rolling with the question. And since when did Carl refer to Finn as “the dwarf”? Not to mention Carl had never called her “little one” before. That sounded like something…

  Mila stopped pacing and listened to her surroundings. There wasn’t anything. Not even the sound of the constant wind through the trees. No insects, no splashing turtles, or chirping frogs. Nothing.

  Looking down at herself, she saw that she was wearing her leather pants and moto jacket, along with her corset and the gray V-neck t-shirt she had been wearing in San Francisco. She didn’t remember changing out of the black skater dress. Hell, she didn’t remember anything in any real detail beyond being on the phone with Carl.

  Mila ground her teeth and growled low in her chest. This was all one of Azoth’s constructs. Mila was still lying in bed in her black dress taking a nap, not pacing back and forth on the deck.

  She considered going off on the asshole, really ripping into him, but she knew that would only make her feel slightly better. It would also be wasting an opportunity. She drew a deep breath and calmed herself.

  “Are you still there?” Carl sounded suspicious.

  “Yeah, I’m here. I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you the plan, but the truth is, we don’t really have one. Right now, the best option we have is to lay a beat-down on that worm-footed failure. If we can beat him low enough, we might be able to kill him. I’ll be honest with you, that’s all we have.”

  “I don’t know that you should talk that way about a being as powerful as Azoth.” He forced a chuckle. “What if he heard you?” She heard the bristle in Carl’s reply at the name-calling, but she pretended she didn’t.

  “Well, then I guess I would have to say it to his face. I mean, his void. I won’t lie, I’m pretty sure that hole where his face should be goes so far back that it sucked up a big chunk of his brain.” She really shouldn’t be antagonizing him, but fuck it, the piece of shit deserved it. “I heard one of his thralls mumbling that Azoth smelled like he had shit himself, then took a bath in urine to clean himself off.”

  “That’s impossible,” Carl retorted with controlled anger. “Thralls can’t speak of their own volition.”

  “Huh, maybe I was simply thinking it so hard I thought I heard the thrall say it. You know what? It doesn’t matter. You’ve convinced me to bring the Reaper with me tomorrow. You’re right, I don’t know any of those people out there. If I can save Earth, that’ll be enough for me. If the fight doesn’t look like it’s going my way, I’ll give up and hand it over.”

  “Really?” Carl sounded both surprised and overjoyed at the same time. It was some of the worst acting Mila had ever heard. “You’re making the right decision.”

  “I suppose I am.” She almost left it at that, but couldn’t help getting one last dig in on the cocky idiot. “You know what I always wondered?”

  “No, what do you wonder, child?”

  “Well, it’s a given that he uses those disgusting tentacles to pleasure himself.” She waited for the reaction.

  There was a lengthy pause, then a confused, “What?”

  “But the part I always wondered about is how many he uses at once.”

  “What? How da—”

  “I’m willing to bet it’s twelve,” she added matter-of-factly, then waited. She knew he would need to know why she thought it was specifically that number. She only needed to wait.

  After almost fifteen long seconds of Carl’s voice making strangled growls, he finally asked, “Why do you think it’s twelve?”

  “Because his head looks like it’s about as big as eleven tentacles mashed together, and he has his head shoved up his ass so often that he would need to add the extra tentacle to feel anything.”

  Mila almost laughed at the sound of angry breathing coming through the line, but she knew he woul
d play it out since she’d told him her “plans.” If he outed himself now, then she would change them. It was childish, but she hated him enough to do it anyway.

  “Isn’t that funny, Carl?” she goaded.

  For a second, she thought she might have gone one step too far, but eventually he answered. “That’s quite humorous, child. Very funny indeed. Perhaps I shall pull a joke on you in Iceland tomorrow, to show you how funny I thought it was.” His voice was practically a speak-and-spell, he was so monotone.

  “Okay, see you there, buddy.” She mustered all the enthusiasm she could.

  He hung up.

  Mila stared daggers at the phone, then threw it out into the darkness as far as she could, letting a scream of rage chase after it. She didn’t want the phone anywhere near her after being forced to talk to that slimy asshole through it.

  When she finally heard it splash into the swampy waters far below, she took off at the rail in a full-on sprint, and launched herself into the darkness.

  Sucking in a deep breath, Mila sat up in the guest room bed, her eyes wide and heart pounding. She took a few seconds to calm herself before looking down and confirming she was once again wearing her black skater dress. She flexed her toes, admiring the black lacquer toenail polish as it glinted in the light.

  Knowing you’re out of a dream is all about the details. Turns out that brains are lazy, and if you look too closely at anything in a dream for too long, it never looks quite right.

  Ever since she realized that little fact, Mila had made a point of painting a small rune on each of her big toenails before applying her customary black polish. Doing so left the paint over the rune ever so slightly thicker, and if she wiggled her toes in the light she could make out the runes’ outline. It was her surefire way of knowing she was truly awake.

  Finn had painted the runes the first couple of times until Mila could do it herself. When he asked what she wanted them to say she’d told him it should say whatever he wanted to tell Azoth.

  It turned out that writing “fuck” and “off” in Dwarvish was super easy.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  As she padded out into the kitchen, Mila heard talking and bubbling water coming from outside. She checked the clock on the wall and saw that it was only a little past nine. While it was later than she would have liked, it was still early evening for her and Finn, especially when you factored in the time change.

  Walking out onto the deck, she spied Danica, Finn, Lance, and Rebecca all sitting in the hot tub, enjoying a drink after the long day they had put in.

  Danica was the first to spot Mila and waved before shouting over the sound of the bubbles. “The suits are in my room. Go grab one and come join us.”

  Mila waved and decided a hot soak might do her some good after her encounter with Azoth. She went to Danica’s room and found the suits laid out as though Danica had looked at each one before choosing the perfect one for the night. Mila laughed while thinking of her friend putting effort into something so dumb as picking a swimsuit to soak in a hot tub with friends.

  Mila grabbed the first suit she saw, the same blue-and-white striped one Danica had worn the day before, and pulled the dress over her head. She hung the dress in the closet and stripped the rest of the way, tossing her underthings in the hamper.

  Lifting the top to her chest, Mila caught another suit laid out on the far side of the bed. It was the black and orange one she had worn with Finn the first time they had used a hot tub together. She tossed the blue-and-white striped top back on the bed and walked over to the black and orange one.

  As she was reaching for the second suit, she suddenly had the most stupid crisis of conscience in her life. She had mentally berated her friend for doing what she was doing right now. And it made her feel bad enough that she considered going back to her original choice out of guilt for abandoning it.

  She stopped herself after a step and sighed dramatically. “This is so stupid. What are you doing? Put on the black and orange one, Mila. You want to wear that one. It has sentimental value, and your ass looks amazing in it. Quit fucking around and get moving.”

  She stood in shocked silence at her outburst for a good twenty seconds before she put on the black and orange one and headed out of the room.

  As she passed the discarded blue and white bikini, she mumbled, “Sorry,” for reasons beyond her understanding.

  Right before she stepped out into the hall, she spotted the duffel bag she had packed all their clothes in on the built-in dresser. She saw something glinting from inside the open zipper and walked over to fish out whatever it was.

  She pulled the glass cube Yaminah had given her out of the bag and stared at it for a few seconds before taking it with her back to the hot tub.

  “It’s my favorite suit!” Finn yelled when Mila stepped out onto the deck and headed their way.

  Mila turned a little red at the attention, but also smiled like a schoolgirl. It was the exact reaction she wanted from him when she went with this suit over the other, which should have justified her choice, but she still felt a tiny bit of guilt about the whole thing.

  She was slightly disappointed that the tub wasn’t hotter when she slipped into the tub between Rebecca and Finn, but Mila figured that with a young kid, they probably kept it cooler for him.

  “Hot enough for you?” Lance asked, his face flushed red from the heat.

  Rebecca and Danica were flushed as well, but Finn looked cool as a cucumber.

  “Yup, it’s fine. I don’t want to be the cause of anyone’s heatstroke, though. You can turn it down if you want.”

  Finn chuckled, put his arm around her, and pulled her close. “I told them it wouldn’t make a difference to me if they turned it up or not, but they cranked it up anyway.”

  “Have you guys ever felt guilty for choosing an article of clothing then deciding on something else and putting the first one back?” Mila asked, her guilt still bothering her.

  Finn and Lance both laughed out loud, but Danica was looking at Mila with a raised eyebrow and Rebecca smiled at some fond memory.

  “I take that as a no?” Mila asked, looking at each of them in turn.

  When she got to Rebecca, she saw the woman nodding. “Oh yeah, I used to do stuff like that to myself all the time when I was pregnant with Grimm. I remember one time when Lance came into the laundry room to find me curled up in a ball crying my eyes out—I’m talking snot bubbles kind of crying. When he asked me what was wrong, he was shaking with fear that I had done something horrible, or something horrible had happened to me or the baby. It took him four hours to stop laughing when I told him I was crying because there were an odd number of socks, which meant that one sock was out there all alone and afraid that we abandoned it.”

  “Holy shit, it wasn’t anything that bad.” Mila laughed, her mood rising exponentially.

  “You want a drink? We brought out some mixers or beers if you’re feeling plebe,” Lance offered, holding up his cheap domestic beer.

  “As your doctor, I recommend that you only have one drink, or stick with water. You’re stressed to hell, and I know you don’t drink enough water every day. The way you’ve been burning through magic loading that device up, I’m surprised you can form coherent sentences,” Danica cut in while giving her a motherly stare.

  Mila laughed. “Okay mom, but only because you’re my doctor, too. Actually, a sparkling water sounds pretty good. Danica’s right, I don’t drink enough water as it is, but add on the stress of the last couple of days, and it explains a lot.”

  Lance pulled a can of flavored sparkling water from a small fridge that wasn’t there a second ago and handed it to her.

  Mila set the glass cube on the edge of the hot tub so she could open the can.

  “What’s this?” Rebecca picked up the cube and inspected it.

  “It’s the spying device Yaminah gave me. I was going to use it, but I’m afraid it’s a trap. We can’t decide if Yaminah is on the up-and-up or not.”


  “I can tell you if it’s legit or not,” Lance offered. He reached behind himself to a coat rack that normally stood in the hallway and pulled a wand from the pocket of a bathrobe hanging there.

  He took the cube and held it close to his face while flicking his wand in a particular pattern as the tip glowed faintly. After half a minute or so, he handed the cube back to Mila and tossed his wand over his shoulder. It never hit the deck. Instead, it simply wasn’t there anymore.

  “It’s clean. It only receives information, and the way it’s made won’t allow it to send anything. Whoever made it knew what they were doing.”

  “That’s it? That was all it took?” Mila was shocked by how easy that was.

  “Pretty much.”

  “The part you didn’t see,” Rebecca gave Lance a look that said they’d had this conversation before, “was the twenty years of intense study that came before. Stop being so modest, babe. You’re an amazing witch.”

  Lance turned a little redder, if that was possible, but nodded. “She’s right. That was a badass spell. But it doesn’t change the fact that you can use the cube with no fear of being tracked.”

  “You should power it up,” Rebecca suggested.

  “She’s right,” Finn chimed in. “We might get a glimpse of what he’s bringing to the table. Could help us with last-minute strategies.”

  “Are we all good with this?” Mila looked for any shaking heads, but saw only shrugs and nods. “Okay then, let’s see what the rat bastard is up to.”

  Mila gripped the cube in one palm and fed a trickle of power into it. As soon as she did, golden light swirled at the cube’s center. The next thing they knew, a sphere with a real-time, 360-degree feed from right above Azoth’s hood surrounded them.

  What they saw sobered them all.

  Wherever the Drude was it was already late morning or early afternoon, with the sun high in a cloudless blue sky. He stood on a short grassy hill, his arms raised above his head as he chanted in a language that Mila had never heard before.