by Charley Case
Before he could stop her, she charged at Dirt’s hands and shouted, “Open up!” when she was two steps away.
Dirt pulled his hands away as she closed in, revealing a dazed Dark Star. Mila opened her arms and tackled Hellena to the ground…where they froze in place.
Chapter Thirty
Mila stumbled back from the frozen, twisted form of Hellena, and cupped her hands to amplify her voice. “Victoria! I need help.”
After a few seconds, the tall blonde woman appeared, this time barefoot and in pajamas.
“What the hel…what the fuck is that?” she said, looking at the monster.
“That’s the Dark Star,” Mila said dismissively, moving the conversation along. “You said that the Reaper can change a soul. Can it separate dark magic from regular magic?”
“Dark magic did this? I don't think I’ve ever seen someone get this far along. They usually die.” Victoria scrutinized the bloodied creature. “Yes, the Reaper can do what you want, but remember the cost is very high.”
“How high?” Mila had considered saying she didn't care, but that would have been a lie. There was only so much she would be willing to pay. Even if it was to give Stephanie her mother back.
“You will not be able to use the Reaper again until you can return here. After you reap a soul, the average time it takes to return is ten years.”
Mila nodded. “Okay, so far. What else?”
Victoria frowned. “That’s it. Isn’t that enough?”
“I’m missing something. That doesn't sound that bad.”
“I forget you have no knowledge. This will make it even worse for you. Because we can come here, we can interact with one another, teach each other, and spend time with our sisters. Without access to this place, we become Lone Valkyries. Our powers still work, and we have access to our magic, but we cannot be near another Valkyrie or we both become weak and vulnerable. You must walk the earth apart from the sisterhood, and endure until you are welcomed back into the fold.”
“Okay, that sounds a little worse than I thought, but I’m going to say it’s still worth it.” Mila looked over at the tortured soul she had brought and thought about Stephanie and her anguish. “Bring me the Reaper.”
“It’s already here,” Victoria said.
Mila turned and the woman had a large thin wooden case in her arms held out so Mila could open it. She lifted the bronze latch and then raised the lid slowly and reverently.
She was surprised to see a rather plain-looking hand scythe. It was made of a rust-brown metal with a worn wooden handle. While everything about the scythe looked like something you find in a hundred-year-old barn, the blade was honed to a mirrors finish with an edge so sharp Mila couldn't see where the metal ended and the air began.
“Go on. You must wield it,” Victoria prompted.
Mila carefully picked the scythe up, amazed at how light it was. “How do I use it?”
Victoria smiled. “Like a scythe. Just reap her soul. The work comes after.”
Mila stepped up to the Dark Star, frozen and helpless, and almost felt sorry for her. Before she could give it much thought, she swung the blade through Hellena’s chest. There was no resistance as if there was no flesh at all, and when she looked closely, there was no blood either. There was, however, a waving tendril of vaporous material waving off of her like a little flag.
“Now, we harvest,” Victoria said. “Begin pulling the soul out of the body. This part can take a minute.” She willed a chair into existence and plopped down.
Mila grasped the wisp between two fingers and pulled. It was an odd sensation not feeling the thing you are touching, but evidently, souls were either wholly insubstantial, or they just felt like nothing.
After a few minutes of pulling, Mila understood why Victoria had summoned a chair. This was really going to take a minute.
Finn was doing his best to fight off those that could come to their master's rescue, but with only one arm, he was off balance and getting sloppy from tiredness.
It had been nearly twenty minutes since Mila had taken Hellena wherever it was she could go, and Finn had been fighting the entire time. He was ready to drop but knew he couldn't leave Mila undefended, so he pushed harder.
Bodies littered the ground around him, and he was coated in blood, which to Finn's relief was evidently gruesome enough that some of the soldiers were turning away, widely thinking it wasn't worth their life.
However, it looked like his luck was running out as a group of seven elves spotted him and charged.
With a weary sigh, he hefted Fragar in his good hand and set himself for battle once again. They closed in, hands up and forming bubbles, and a few pulling out knives.
Just before they all let loose, their expressions changed from anger to confusion, then to horror, as they all slowed their run to a jog, then to a standstill.
“Are we doing this, or what guys? I’m pretty tired, so if we could just hurry this along?” Finn said as politely as he could but felt it was still a little dickish.
The elf closest to him held up a hand and realized he was holding a knife that he dropped. “Uh, excuse me. Could you tell me where we are, exactly? And maybe why there are dead people everywhere?”
Finn’s brows rose. A gasp from behind made him spin and take a knee, helping Mila to sit up.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, coughing a few times. “I’m good. I did it. I cut the darkness out of her.”
Another gasp and Hellena sat up, her eyes wide with fear. “What is happening? Who are you? Why are you covered in blood?” she cringed at the bodies and tried to scoot backward, but there were more bodies behind them. “What the hell is going on?”
“Mom?” Stephanie said, approaching with Danica and Penny riding her shoulder. A smile broke across Stephanie's lips, and she raced over, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around Hellena’s neck.
“Stephie? Why are you so big? You were only ten the last time I saw you. What happened here? Are you okay?”
Finn pulled Mila in and kissed her deeply, doing his best not to get her covered in blood and green goo, but then he didn't really care.
He finally let her go, and she looked up at him. “Why is your shirt off? Are you trying to impress me?”
Finn smiled. “Are you impressed?”
“I mean, the withered arm’s a little creepy, but I can work with the rest.”
He frowned at the arm. “Yeah, I think I’m going to lose it. I’ve had another healing potion while you were gone, and it didn't do a damned thing. Guess me and Danica will be arm twins.”
“I heard that,” Danica called out. “You wish you were as young and hot as me, grandpa.”
“Aren’t you older than me?” Finn asked.
Danica shrugged. “Age is relative.”
Finn looked at Mila, then frowned when she didn't react. “Oh, come on! I said the exact same thing and you called me a manther.”
Mila’s eyes brightened, and she smiled. “Oh, I forgot about the manther!”
“You actually forgot about that?”
“It’s kinda been a busy day.”
“So, if I wouldn't have said anything…”
“Totally would have forgotten all about it.”
“Fuck.”
Epilogue
Two hours later, Finn and Mila reclined on a park bench, the blizzard still raging around them as the Huldu worked to put everything back together. Someone had found a tee-shirt for Finn to put on since he had been shredded by the Gjallarhorn. It was black, but also about three sizes too small and had a unicorn leaping across the front with rainbows shooting out of its ass. The text at the bottom said, ‘me so horny.’
Mila loved it and thought it was perfect for him.
Finn had wanted to take the Gjallarhorn and keep it under lock and key, but Mila had had a better idea. She asked the Dirt Elemental if he would take it and hide it someplace no one would find it. He agreed and stuffed it into his ches
t before sinking into the ground, taking the horn with him.
Turned out Penny had been able to hide her magical presence, but one of the side effects of her not being able to project magic was her ability to talk had also been taken away. Finn said it was a blessing in disguise until she showed him she knew at least one phrase in sign language; two if she did it with each hand. Even Mila had laughed when they found out that the effect would last for a full week. They were fully prepared for a lot of middle fingers for the next seven days.
Stephanie and Hellena had been reunited. Preston wanted to keep an eye on her, so he had a detail assigned to follow her for the next fifty years. There were a lot of unanswered questions between mother and daughter, but it looked like Hellena’s memories weren’t going to come back. Finn told Stephanie sometimes it's better not to know, and just be thankful she got her back at all. Stephanie asked if she could come to visit from time to time, and Finn and Mila loved the idea. They made plans for dinner and a movie in five days. That way Penny couldn't spoil it for her.
Penny gave Finn the middle finger.
Finn leaned back on the bench, putting his arm around Mila's shoulders. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.
“That was insane,” Mila said, staring off into the distance.
Finn nodded. “Usually is.”
Mila playfully punched him in the gut. “Shut up. It is not. What do you think’ll happen next?”
Finn pursed his lips. “Whatever you want, I guess. I’m game for anything.”
Mila slid into his lap, a big cheesy smile on her face. “Anything?” She tapped the end of his nose.
“Sure. Why not.” He shrugged. “How bad could it be?”
“You know how Danica said she got you a surprise at the mall?”
He chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I forgot all about that.”
“Well, she told me what it was.”
Finn raised an eyebrow. “And?”
She smiled, trying not to laugh. “Leggings.”
“Leggings?”
“Yup.”
Finn busted out laughing. “Okay, I’ll do you one further. I’ll wear said leggings out to the Refinery if you let me keep one of those.” He pointed, and she followed his finger.
“You know you’ll kill yourself on that, right?”
“That’s what healing potions are for.”
She smiled. “Fine, but you have to wear them the whole night, and it’s got to be a weekend. And Danica has to be there.”
“Deal.” He agreed, looking greedily at the black motorcycle. “What kind of bike is that?”
Mila turned and squinted. “It’s a Triumph.”
Finn smiled even bigger. “That’s a fitting name.”
She laughed and kissed him.
He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes. “I love you.”
Her face softened, and she caressed his cheek. “I love you too, manther.”
He sighed in defeat.
“Fuck.”
THE END
Finn and Mila have conquered the Dark Star, but their story is far from over.
Come join the gang in an all new adventure: The Lone Valkyrie series.
Six months have passed, and everyone is falling into their roles. Finn is working with the magical community to make lives better, and Mila is discovering what it means to be in the Valkyrie Sisterhood. Penny, on the other hand has a little unfinished business with Finn, concerning the promise that brought them together in the first place; her hoard.
Join Mila as she begins her life as a Valkyrie, fighting an evil she didn't even know could exist on this Terranavis in book one of The Lone Valkyrie series. Look for it shortly on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.
Get sneak peeks, exclusive giveaways, behind the scenes content, and more.
PLUS you'll be notified of special one day only fan pricing on new releases.
Sign up today to get free stories.
CLICK HERE
or visit: https://marthacarr.com/read-free-stories/
Author Notes - Charley Case
February 3, 2020
Today I had to take one of my cats to the vet. Not to worry, it was just a routine checkup, and Alice is doing fine.
But it was a huge hassle.
I had to delay starting work by a few hours, and then when I did finally sit down to put words on the page I got a call from the vet saying that Alice was ready to be picked up. So I had to pack up my things from the coffee shop/brewery (Western Collective, hell yeah!) I had planted myself in and head across town to bring my grumpy cat home. Then once at home I had to feed her lunch while fighting off her sister and brother who had eaten when the auto feeders went off an hour before.
All fed and happy, Alice went to the couch and laid down for a nap, her day done.
My day on the other hand hadn't even started yet. I had gotten maybe 200 words down before I was called back to the vet’s office. So, here I was setting up for the second time today to finally do some writing and it was already 2pm.
A day wasted.
…well, actually, it wasn't wasted. Sure, I only wrote 200 words out of the 3000 I planned on getting done, but today became about more than the writing.
While at Western Collective I struck up a conversation with a bartender/barista that I have come to know over the months I’ve been frequenting the place. It was a fun conversation about how life just gets faster and harder when school is over, and how they deal with the pressure. It wasn't a long conversation and to be fair it was a pretty standard subject, but in that conversation, she said something that hit a chord within me.
She mentioned something in jest along the lines of, “was it a dwarf or an elf?”
Now, what she meant was, she didn't really know the difference; anyone who reads fantasy knows the difference so well that they just wouldn't even think to ask the question. But what I heard, in my always churning brain, was “Dwarven Elf.”
Or, in other words, a half dwarf half elf… what the hell would that be like? Would it be something like a thin Finn? Or would it be a short Danica? What would their abilities be like? How would the magical community react to them?
The answer to all those questions is; I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.
Maybe in this series, maybe in my War Mage Chronicles series, maybe in something completely new, I have no idea where, but the one thing I do know is that it’s an idea I’ll run with eventually.
After the call I went back to the vet’s office and picked up my sweet girl, Alice. I started chatting with tech and she mentioned something about a cat with a bobbed tail, and my brain was like, “Okay, buddy… here we go again.”
So, my closest friend Jason and his wife Nicole just lost their cat of 18 years a couple of weeks ago. Fatty Lumpkin was the sweetest little girl. All my memories of going to visit them include the little orange and white love ball we called Lump. She would come in and sleep with me for the first hour of every night, just to be sure I felt welcome in her home (anyone who owns a cat knows that the house is theirs, and they let us use the space; given that we feed them in a timely manner.).
The loss was hard for everyone, especially since we live on the opposite side of the country, and can't just go over to give our condolences properly.
Being the animal lovers they are, and missing their fallen friend, Jay and Nic went to the local shelter to “just pet some cats”. The shelter attendant, trained to see weakness in those that enter the shelters doors, saw them coming a thousand miles away.
Long story short Jay and Nic are now “fostering” two fuzz-butts that came from an animal hoarders home.
These two little girls were so stressed out that one of them had an eye swollen shut, and the other, frantic to make sure her sister was safe, was fighting off anyone who came near them. An hour later at their new foster home the swelling was practically gone, and they were purring up a storm while sitting in a lap each.
Why did I think about these two while talkin
g to the vet tech? Because both sisters have had their tails removed (we don't know why, and to be honest it’s probably not worth dwelling on since they came from a hoarders home). So, when the tech mentioned a cat with a bobbed tail, I immediately thought of the sisters. Which reminded me of their names.
Goblin and Wyrm.
The names made me think “Goblin and The Wyrm”, which is a pretty badass title for a story. Then I started thinking of what that story is… and let me tell you, I have a whole outline at this point, and it’s pretty fucking epic. (so, look out for that one in the future)
My point in this long ramble is that I’m a writer, but that doesn't mean that my whole day is about writing. Granted, most days are just about writing; I sit at my desk of choice at 8:30am and don't get up until 4:30pm most days.
Writing is hard work.
But some days I have to go to the vet, and I get to talk to baristas and vet techs and bartenders and any number of interesting individuals who inspire me in ways they never would have imagined. I get to take those little bits of inspiration and spin them into yarns for all of you.
I could have looked at today and said, “200 words? What a failure!” Instead I looked at today as a huge success. Two great ideas in one day? That’s golden!
I guess what I’m trying to say is that success is not measured by what you get done, but by what you accomplish. I got 200 words done, but I accomplished 200 words AND got two story ideas that will make my future writing all the more robust.
Don't be too hard on yourself when you feel like you’ve failed, instead take a step back and look at why you failed. Maybe the problem is you don't really understand the task.
I’m a writer, but my task isn’t writing, it’s telling stories. And now I have two more to tell.
Thank you so much for reading my book, and double thanks for getting this far. The last thing I want is for you to feel like I’m preaching at you, because I’m not; I just like to share stories about how I learned to be at peace with my crazy brain. Maybe you can feel better about yourself knowing there is someone out there just a little crazier than you ;)
