“It was my fault that Loki escaped his prison, so I thought I should be the one to put him back in it. I didn’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me. It was my error, and I wanted to fix it myself.”
Sadness filled Sigyn’s face, and I knew she was thinking about all the mistakes she’d made with the evil god. About how she’d loved him and how he’d used that love against her. About how Loki had tricked her into freeing him and about all the people who had died as a result. Sigyn sighed, and I could hear all of her heartbreak and regret in that one soft sound.
After a moment, she spoke again. “Loki might be back where he belongs, but unfortunately, a dangerous new threat has risen to take his place.”
“Covington,” I snarled.
“Yes. And I think it’s time for me to have a Champion after all. Now that I’ve finally found someone worthy.” Sigyn looked at me. “I would like that Champion to be you, Rory.”
Shock rippled through me. Gwen had told me that she thought Sigyn had plans for me, but I’d never expected this. Oh, I had considered the possibility during my first meeting with the goddess here in the dreamscape ruins, but since she hadn’t asked me to be her Champion then, I didn’t think she ever would.
I should have, though. Finding Babs in the library. Joining the Midgard. Realizing that Covington had escaped from prison. Fighting the chimeras in the museum. It had all been leading up to this moment.
“Why me?” I asked. “Why would you want me to be your Champion? I’m the daughter of Reaper assassins, remember? That doesn’t exactly make me Champion material.”
Sigyn smiled. “Because we’re a lot alike. We both want to make up for the sins of those we loved. Together, I think we can. Covington has dark, dark things planned. If he succeeds, in a way, it will be worse than what Loki tried to do. But I think you can stop him, Rory. And you’ve already proven yourself worthy of being my Champion.”
“How did I do that?”
“By going to the museum tonight, even though Babs asked you not to. By choosing to fight the Reapers, even though you knew about the sword’s curse. And most of all, by locking yourself in that room with all those chimeras in order to save your friends, even though you knew the creatures would most likely kill you.”
She kept staring at me, and something that Gwen had said to me popped into my mind, something that Nike, the Greek goddess of victory, had once told her.
“Self-sacrifice is a very powerful thing,” I whispered.
Sigyn smiled again. “I see you’ve been talking to Gwendolyn about quite a lot of things. But she and you are both right. Self-sacrifice is a very powerful thing. Perhaps the most powerful thing that exists in all the realms.”
The goddess moved away from the wall. I followed her, digesting her words. A minute later, the two of us were back at the fountain in the center of the courtyard.
Sigyn turned to me, a serious expression on her face. “Loki might be gone, but the world still needs protecting. So I would like you to be my Champion, Rory Forseti. I would like you to fight on my behalf, to help me battle Covington and his new band of Reapers. You’re the only one who has a chance of stopping him. But it’s up to you. Unlike Covington, I won’t try to force you into it. You must choose it of your own free will.”
I thought about everything that had happened over the past few days, from running into Ian on the quad that first morning to fighting the chimeras in the museum tonight. And I realized something: I’d been happier this past week than in all the months before.
My new friends were a big part of that, but I had been truly happy because I was finally doing what I’d dreamed of all along. Helping people and protecting them from the Reapers and their many schemes. And I knew what my decision was—what it would always be.
“I would be honored to be your Champion,” I said. “I would love to be your Champion.”
“But?”
“But how can I actually do that? You know, since I’m dead or whatever? And even if I wasn’t dead, I still have a cursed sword. Not exactly a Champion’s weapon. Especially since it’s one of the reasons I’m dead now.”
Sigyn let out another pleased laugh. “You said it yourself. Self-sacrifice is a very powerful thing—powerful enough to break even a goddess’s curse.”
She stepped forward and held out her hand, gesturing at Babs, who was still lying on the fountain rim, her eye closed. A silver light flashed, searing my eyes with its intensity, and I had to look away from it. But the light faded, and when I looked down at the sword again, Babs’s green eye was wide open, and she was staring up at me.
“Babs once belonged to the Irish goddess Macha,” Sigyn said. “You knew about the curse, and yet you carried her into battle anyway. Not only that, but you sacrificed yourself in order to save your friends. That was more than enough to break Macha’s curse. Now the sword is free of the curse, forever. Babs is yours, Rory. If you want her.”
Babs smiled at me, her metal face shining with hope.
“Of course I want Babs,” I said. “She’s the best sword ever.”
“Then pick her up and make her yours,” Sigyn said.
I bent over and put one hand under Babs’s pointed blade and the other under her hilt. As soon as I picked up the weapon, Babs grew ice-cold in my hand, and the metal started glowing with that silver light again. I had to look away from the brilliant flare, but it faded away a few seconds later.
I looked back down at Babs, and I realized that the symbols on her hilt, the ones I’d noticed when she first told me about her curse in the Bunker, were much more defined now. I traced my finger down the runes. I hadn’t been able to read the symbols before, but now they made perfect sense.
Babs rolled her eye down and stared at the runes. “Finally!” she crowed in a happy voice. “Something good’s carved on me!”
I laughed and slid Babs into the black leather scabbard that was still belted to my waist. Then I looked at Sigyn again.
“And I have a gift for you as well,” the goddess said.
She was still holding that winterbloom, and she brought it up to her lips and gently kissed it. An icy layer of frost immediately covered the flower. In seconds, the frost solidified, turning the white petals a bright, polished silver, with the heart-shaped blossom glittering like a small emerald in the middle of the flower.
Sigyn stepped forward and gently took hold of my hand. She pressed the winterbloom up against my bracelet, and that intense silver light flashed again. When I looked back down, the flower had hooked itself to my charm bracelet, right next to my heart locket.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “Thank you.”
“Not just beautiful,” Sigyn teased. “Useful too. And a part of you now, forever, whether you wear the bracelet or not.”