Page 113 of The Last Valkyrie

“You don’t deserve this power,” Corym said. “You are not the arbiter of our people, deciding which way the tides turn, sister. Vaalnath will hear of this.”

She scowled. “Our mother-father knows I have Alfheim’s best interests at heart.”

“Yes, but not Midgard’s,” I said. “Not Vikingrune’s. Not the Isle’s. And that’s the problem, Deitryce. What you’re telling me is you snatched the Runesphere from its secret hidey-hole unplanned, andthatdoesn’t pass the sniff test.”

“I . . . don’t know what half those words meant.”

“Put simply, I don’t trust you.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Which is a shame, because I like your people. But I’ll be watching you closely. You can bank on that.”

More confusion bent her brow. “I—”

“It’s a promise,” I amended, getting annoyed at her deflections and alleged misunderstandings.

With that, I turned and walked away. My men quickly followed.

About twenty feet away, Corym said, “Can I know what’s on your mind,lunis’ai?”

“Are you angry with me badgering your sister, Cor?”

“No, not angry. You have every right. I’m angry too. I’m just, erm, confused, I suppose.”

“I wasn’t expecting an answer,” I said. “Truth be told, I don’t knowwhatI was expecting. I saw her and just reacted, after you told me she brough the Sphere with her.”

He chuckled incredulously. “So that was all . . . ‘unplanned,’ as you so eloquently charged my sister?”

I nodded. The other guys joined in snickering.

“Got her spooked though, didn’t I?” I said wryly.

Corym’s tone grew serious. “I nearly drew blades against my own kin, love.”

“What’s worse—defying your kin for betraying your people, or telling your liege of that betrayal?”

He quieted. It wasn’t an apples-to-apples comparison, but I think he understood the gist: He had every reason to draw his sword against her, and it had nothing to do with me, honestly. It was theelvesDeitryce betrayed by stealing the Runesphere.

Now we just need to make sure the damned humans don’t figure out she has it. Because it’s closer to them—closer to the home of Sigmund Calladan, the descendant of the man who fought a war over trying to obtain it—than it has ever been before.

We were skating on thin ice here, and Deitryce needed to be given a warning we were onto her.

“Besides,” I said, “now that we have her spooked, we can watch to see if she makes any mistakes. See what she’s plotting.”

Corym let out a low hum, nodding.

“Sven?” I chirped.

“Yeah, yeah, little menace. I’ll keep watch on her.”

I grinned at the sneaky wolf shifter. “Good boy.”

By the time we reached my longhouse, my head was pounding. Too many things were running through it. I felt like my last two brain cells were jousting and both kept getting knocked off their horses.

At the door, I couldn’t go inside. Panic was rising up inside me, and for the first time since I could remember, I didn’t want to be consoled. I didn’t want Grim’s soothing touch, or Magnus’logical words, or Arne’s pleading help, or Sven’s aggressive snap-out-of-it rhetoric.

“Guys. I need a minute.”

“Sneak?” Grim asked.

“I need some air.”

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