Page 166 of The Last Valkyrie

Could it have been because the Runesphere had weakened her in order to unveil my own heritage and power?

It must have been.

Dahlia nodded, her head crunching back against gravel. “Yes, you see it, don’t you?”

“So Korvan wasweakenedwhen we killed him just now?”

Another nod. “The Runesphere sapped his strength. Made him stoppable. His soul was bound to the Sphere . . . much as I imagine . . . yours is.”

I glanced over my shoulder, past my huddled mates, mother, and Ma, to my fallen dragonkin father. “Will his soul ever find a way back? Can he ever return?”

She choked another laugh. “Time will tell, eh, girl?”

Shit. That’s not promising.

At every turn, I had been wrong about this woman. The only truth was she had always been a pain in my ass and mean. But that didn’t make her evil.

I’d assumed she wanted to get back at me for Astrid’s death, and that was why she had caged me near the Three Norns falls. But no, it was that she didn’t want me handing over my dragonkin power to Korvan when she already had a plan to finish him off, involving the Runesphere.

Her words,“Whatever it is you’re planning, I can’t let you do it,”made much more sense now.

My assumption she was betraying Vikingrune Academy and handing over the Runesphere to Korvan? It was to weaken him, because she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist its allure, its promise of unbridled power.

Trying and failing to resurrect Astrid? That part might have been a mother’s last stand, but in actuality she imbued herself with the mixture of Magnus’ and my blood to try and become “dragonkin enough” to close the portals.

Trying to open portals for Korvan to invade the Isle with more wicked bastards? She had been trying toclosethe portals, for everyone here.

Leaning lower, fighting back a lump in my throat, I said, “For what it’s worth, Tomekeeper, I’m sorry for Astrid. I never wanted her dead. I just wanted her to leave me alone.”

Dahlia looked worse off than even two minutes before. She was struggling to stay attentive, to keep her eyes open. The pool of blood beneath her was expanding. “I know, Linmyrr. Now . . . do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Bring me to the place you took y-your brother and the elf crone . . . reunite me with Astrid and show me what a valkyrie can do.”

I was instantly transported to the now-familiar land of snow and ice in my mind when my palm rested on Dahlia’s forehead.

I hurried to the other side, the greener side, and found the Tomekeeper’s golden soul floating just above the ground. Like the others, she was nude, peaceful, and weighed nothing at all when I hugged her against me.

My wings took me up into the sky, winding through the gnarled roots of Yggdrasil, and guided me toward the golden temple atop the mountain.

Valhalla.

By the time I had reached the stairs leading up to the giant double doors of the temple, Dahlia had reverted in age. She never became as young and childish as Elayina had—basically reverting back to infancy—but rather stopped somewhere along the way as a young woman.

I gasped when I looked down and saw I was holding a beautiful, stern-looking young lady with a strong jaw, curly dark hair, and a Viking’s thick physique.

Before the tragedy of her and Korvan began, and the birth of Astrid that had resulted from it, it was clear Dahlia Anfinn had been a much different person. A fighter, a warrior, sturdily built andstrong.

The doors opened slowly, showing me the golden glow inside that was always just beyond my view. Laughter and pleasantshouting and jostling reached my ears, coming from somewhere in the great hall of the Asgardians.

Odin looked much the same as before, with his long beard, his tired gait, leaning on his staff.

I was pleased that the staff was in harmless mode rather than three-pronged spear mode when I had insulted him the first time by bringing Damon here.

I feared I wasn’t far from that stage, given Dahlia’s life up until this point and what she had done. No matter what good she’d done at the end, she had still executed questionable ideas and plans—controversial ones, at the very least—all throughout her life.

She was not an innocent person, by any means.

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