Beyond us, the birds transformed.
I squinted through dust and the cacophony around me to see they had become six bronzed women, wearing the same shining golden metal armor Leif had described. Their black wings spread wide, each wing touching the tip of the next Valkyrie’s wing. And Leif was trapped in the middle of their terrible ring, effectively separated from his allies. And though they were the ones who had bestowed his power upon him, and both of us knew what would be his fate, I still drew my sword.
“Leif Olafsson,” they said, all speaking at once, “you have fulfilled your quest.”
He bowed his head once, but I saw that his hand never relaxed on his sword.
“Fenris led the revolt against the gods,” they continued, “and we granted you the power to stop him. In doing so, we made you the most powerful warrior on earth. Odin allowed this under one condition: you could only remain this way to complete your quest.” They moved to form a wide circle around Leif. “It is your abilities that will make the einherjar unstoppable.” In one fluid motion, six swords were drawn. “You have done well, Northman, but now it’s time to come with us to Valhalla.”
No. A violent, uncontrollable anger seethed within me, and I drew my sword and summoned the rest of my undead clansmen to me. My body might have weakened, but I would wield my army against these pagan goddesses; I would have them tear the wings from their backs and rend their flesh to pieces.
Rúna was shouting something, but I was deaf to everything but my need to help Leif.
Protect Leif; defend him against the Valkyries, I thought to my clansmen, and they surged forward.
The Valkyries attacked Leif then. He blocked with his shield and parried with his sword, but they hemmed him in. Panic rose within me, choking in its intensity. He would hold his own, but not forever. Not even Leif could fight endlessly against six goddesses with swords.
My undead clansmen reached the Valkyries as I struggled to pull myself astride Sleipnir. I’d succeeded in controlling the j?tnar’s minds, but these were war goddesses. My whole body shook violently, my heart shuddering in my chest. Even so, I had to try.
Two of the Valkyries turned to face us. Swords clashed violently as my undead clansmen attacked, easily running through their defenses.
With my hands thrust in Sleipnir’s mane, I wrapped the strong hairs around my palms and gripped them tightly. I hoped it would keep me mounted.
I closed my eyes and sought the power that would allow me to battle the Valkyries on more equal footing—I hoped. But it wasn’t as easy as it had been before; the power seemed to dance away from my grasp, until with a scream of frustration I finally accessed it. There was a tearing sound so terrible I wondered if I’d finally freed my spirit one too many times, but when I glanced once at my body, I knew I was still alive. My spirit surged toward the closest Valkyrie, and my desperation was a living, breathing thing.
I plunged into impenetrable darkness. The strength of her mind was the same as the stag’s had been in the Faerie Tunnel. It was like being lost at sea on a cloudy night: nothing but black nothingness no matter where I searched. Again and again, I threw myself against it. When that failed, I moved on to the next Valkyrie. And the next. All had minds of steel.
Their taunting laughter filled my mind. You are not strong enough, little Celt. Leif will die, and you will be next.
Three Valkyries surrounded Leif, but all were engaged with my undead warriors. These were Norse goddesses with abilities far beyond my own. I streamed back to my body, but the moment I became conscious, my heart shuddered. I pressed my fist against my aching chest, and after a breath, it resumed beating reluctantly. I didn’t need to be a healer to know I didn’t have much time—my body had reached its limit. But I had the blood of ancients, the blood of the druids and the blood of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and I knew what I must do.
For only death itself would stop me from saving Leif.
I sank deeply into my mind and found the door of light—it was my connection to the realm of the Tuatha—and fell through it. I called for the Morrigan, imagining her as I’d seen her last: with a headdress of crows’ feathers. Black fog poured in, ominous as storm clouds. And she appeared before me. For the first time, I gazed upon the Morrigan in mortal form. Her skin was as pale as marble, her hair as dark as pitch. But her eyes were still a terrible blood red. She was dressed for battle. Her armor was as black as night, a mantle of greasy black feathers upon her shoulders. I knew she couldn’t appear in Leif’s land to fight for me, but there was one way she could help me.
I need the power to stop them. Will you lend it? I asked.
The Morrigan’s answering grin was more frightening than her glower. I thought you’d never ask.
The black fog that seemed to travel with her swirled around me, and then I felt it: a swelling of power, a renewal of energy, the healing of my broken body.
I thanked the Morrigan and returned through the glowing door to my body in a rush, my heart beating strong now, my strength returned tenfold.
I had an army of undead at my command, powerful goddess-given seidr, and a flesh-eating charger. I could stop them—I had to.
I called upon five of my clansmen, summoning them to me instantly. Together, we streamed toward one of the Valkyries. They engaged her in combat, separating her from her sisters while the other Valkyries battled Leif and the remainder of my clansmen.
Their black swords clashed with her golden one, and she kept them at bay, fighting them all at once, as easily as a seasoned fighter could battle a child. Still, it was enough to distract her. I forced myself free of my body and targeted the glowing golden spot in her chest that was her heart. I plunged my hand in, my triumph reverberating through my body as I grasped her life force.
Now! I told one of my clansmen, and he thrust his sword into her immobile heart.
Her face was frozen in shock as she crashed to the ground.
I had felled one, but there were five more. As I turned my attention to the next, a horrible sight greeted me.
The Valkyrie who stood over Leif raised her sword.
No! I shouted inwardly, snatching out with my mind to take control of her—to stop her before she could do the unthinkable. I was plunged into impenetrable darkness once again, but I felt her hesitate.
You cannot hold me long, she taunted. He has always been destined to add to the ranks of einherjar, and we have made sure from the very beginning that he would be the best warrior the world—and Valhalla—has ever seen.
Suddenly I remembered what Arinbjorn had said all that time ago in the stables. When he said their sister was killed on purpose so Leif would find her. I remembered learning from the Northmen that the j?tnar weren’t that different from the gods, and that some were even intermarried or related by blood.
You arranged for Finna to be slaughtered, I thought to the Valkyrie, horror washing over me.
The Valkyrie laughed, the sound eerie and humorless. We did. Leif Olafsson was already the best raider the north had seen—he would have sailed the world, bringing knowledge of our gods to many people—but we needed his power as an einherjar. His power would be better used in Valhalla to fight for the gods, and what better way than to have him train here in Midgard?
You manipulated him. You murdered his sister! And now you’ll take his life?
She answered by shoving me mentally so hard, my physical body crashed to the ground. An agonizing pain assaulted my head, so terrible in its intensity that I could only cradle my head and scream silently as I lost control of her mind, of everything, as I was myself lost to the agony.
Two of her sisters escaped my undead clansmen. They grasped hold of Leif. The Valkyrie who held Leif immobilized raised her sword.