I pushed away my pain to find Leif. Time seemed to slow as our gazes caught and held. “I love you,” Leif mouthed.
A sense of urgency exploded within my chest, and I streamed toward him. But the distance was far, too far.
The sword flashed and fell.
I watched as Leif jerked once and then was still.
Something inside me shattered. A scream tore from deep within me, so intense and powerful it was like a wave of destruction. Everyone froze.
Before I knew it, I had wrenched my soul from my body and appeared next to the Valkyrie who had killed Leif. Black anger and a terrible, soul-destroying grief rent through me, and I exploded through the Valkyrie’s mental defenses, ignoring her as she fought me like a wild animal. Her arm shook as it rose against her will, and she screamed in anguish as I forced her to plunge her sword into her own chest.
I returned to myself before I could become trapped in her death spiral.
Four remained.
I stalked toward one, darkness rolling off me like a black fog. My spirit burst free of my body and slammed into her mind, and I forced her to kill herself amid her mentally screamed threats of death and damnation.
I killed them all, one by one, tearing their golden hearts free of their bodies.
Breathing hard, I returned to my body once more, and fell to my knees by Leif’s side. Far above me, the sky darkened with storm clouds as though my emotions were being mirrored by the elements.
I had torn the Valkyries’ hearts free, but it was mine that was dying.
I leaned forward until my head rested upon his still-warm body and I wrapped my arms around him. Losing Sleipnir and my father could in no way compare to this pain . . . this emptiness inside me.
“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered. “I was a fool to think I could live without you, and I will do anything if you’ll only come back to me.”
Lightning flashed, its sudden luminance only emphasizing how dark it had become. A boom of thunder followed.
A figure appeared before us. He wore a gray, hooded cloak and gripped a gnarled staff. Bushy eyebrows hid only one startling ice-blue eye. The other was missing, as though plucked from its socket. Only skin remained. His long white beard was streaked with gray, but instead of looking old and helpless, he only appeared more powerful. A raven sat on each shoulder, watching us with eyes that seemed to contain the entire world.
“Odin,” I said, recognizing the father of all the Norse gods from my time spent with the Northmen. I tightened my grip on my sword.
He said nothing, only took in the scene with his eye. After a moment, he walked over to the closest dead Valkyrie and touched her shoulder with his staff. She shook her head and came unsteadily to her feet. It took everything within me not to kill her all over again. Her eyes flashed as if she wanted to do the same to me, but Odin merely caught her eye and shook his head.
He walked around to each fallen Valkyrie and brought each to life just as he had the first. I silently seethed. Soon all six stood next to him, resurrected as though nothing had happened, while Leif lay unmoving on the ground.
“Father,” one of the Valkyries began, but he held up his hand.
“Muninn,” Odin said to the raven on his right shoulder, “show us your memory of what happened here.”
The bird let out a croak and took off with a flurry of wings. He flew over us in a great circle, and once he had done so, the air shimmered. In the sky above us, the events that had transpired replayed. We saw our battle with the j?tnar, the defeat of Fenris, and the coming of the Valkyries. Odin watched without expression as the Valkyries turned on Leif and battled against my fallen clansmen. I was held in the grip of agony as I watched Leif die for the second time. After all six Valkyries had fallen, the images blurred before finally dissipating into the stormy sky like smoke.
“So it was for vengeance that my Valkyries were killed,” Odin said, his voice deep and thoughtful. “But it was revenge for the death of one of my people, not a Celt.”
“He means more to me than even my own people,” I said to Odin. “I would kill your Valkyries a hundred times if it meant I could bring him back.” Apathy freed my tongue. What had I to fear of Norse gods? I had lost Leif.
“How were you able to do this?” he asked me. He paused as the raven on his left shoulder whispered in his ear. His eyes shifted to mine. “You have the blood of a Celtic goddess. The immortal daughter of the Phantom Queen.”
“Father,” one of the Valkyries said again, “we were only doing as you asked of us.”
Odin nodded thoughtfully. “It is true. I asked you to bring the warrior back to Valhalla after he completed his quest. But I didn’t ask you to threaten the Celtic queen; doing so violated the alliance you had made.”
The Valkyrie seethed visibly. “Her intentions were to stop us.”
“It seems justice was had here—you took the life of her ally, and the Celtic queen exacted revenge. A truce will be called.”
I stood next to Leif’s body with my hand on the hilt of my sword. “You speak of justice. The man I love is dead, while the beings responsible still live. Worse, it was they who manipulated him into trading his life in the first place. They drew the j?tnar to the village where his sister was; they made sure Leif would find her slaughtered.”
Again, the raven on Odin’s left shoulder whispered into his ear. Odin turned to me. “It’s true. We wanted Leif Olafsson’s soul early—it won’t be long before the j?tnar launch an assault on the realm of the gods. We rule over the mortals of Midgard; it is our right to manipulate mortals as we see fit. But I am not without compassion, and I like a wager. Leif Olafsson’s soul is already in Valhalla. Do you think he will choose you over its golden halls?”
“I don’t know what he will choose.” My eyes narrowed at the six Valkyries. “I only want him to be given the chance.”
Odin smiled. “I like you, Ciara of the Phantom Queen. You are a true warrior, one who isn’t afraid to fight for what she wants.” He fell silent for a moment as though lost in thought—or listening to one of his ravens. “I will take you to Valhalla. If you can persuade your Leif to return to Midgard with you, then I will send his soul back into his body.”
The relief and swelling hope hit me so hard my knees nearly crumpled beneath my weight.
“Thank you, Odin, I—”
“If you fail,” he interrupted, “you will neither return to Midgard nor stay in Valhalla. I will send you to Freyja’s death fields, and you will be forever separated from the one you love.”
I understood the risks: my very soul was in danger, and I could be beyond saving. But I also knew Leif would accept such a price without a moment’s hesitation, if it were my life on the line.
“I won’t fail,” I said.
Odin stepped forward and put his hands on the upper part of my arms. He smelled like smoke and earth. “Let’s go, then,” he said.
At once, the Valkyries exploded into their raven forms and took to the skies, feathers falling in their wake. Odin’s two ravens joined them, and then we were spinning wildly, as though caught in the midst of a storm. I could see nothing; I could hear nothing but the scream of wind in my ears. Faster and faster we ascended, spinning all the while, until I felt like a leaf caught in a hurricane.
Just when I was sure I would die from the onslaught, it stopped.
28
Odin released me, and I fell to the ground. Every bone and muscle in my body shrieked in pain, but not because of the fall. The world had changed; I felt as weak as a kitten once again, and the pressure on my body was so intense I couldn’t even cry out, only grit my teeth together. Everything around me blurred and shifted, as though I was peering through smoke, and I lay in the fetal position, unable to move myself forward. There was no way to take note of my surroundings, no way to do anything but cling to the ground beneath me.