Page 2 of The Last Valkyrie

Yes. The other thing. I gave my huge protector a look, my eyebrows arching helplessly.Ma.

When we’d arrived for our debriefing with Gothi Sigmund, he had handed me a letter from my mother, Lindi Foradeen, all the way from Selby Village. The contents concerned me greatly, and that was another weight on my shoulders.

Because the letter said my mom was sick, and my presence was requested at Selby Village.

When I brought it up to Sigmund, he said I couldn’t leave the Isle until the threat against our species was dealt with. I understood that—all hands on deck and all that. But this wasfamily, and the letter was decidedly sparse on details regarding what ailed my mother.

Is she simply sick, or, like,sicksick and dying? She wouldn’t take the time and energy to send a message all the way here if she simply had the sniffles.

In some ways, this banter about jotnar and war was keeping my brain occupied. There was darkness just underneath the surface of it, gnawing at my belly, worrying me. I didn’t want to go down a rabbit hole about my mom. I was in the dark about her, just like I was about the giants. It was driving me crazy, because I was something of a control freak, as my mates had come to learn.

I neededanswers. Not lollygagging and waiting for Sigmund Calladan to come up with an appropriate strategy against the jotnar.

Wheeling around to begin pacing again, I ignored Grim’s suggestion about focusing on my letter. “What if they come in peace?”

A unified sound of bafflement filled the room.

“Um, excuse me?” Magnus asked from the floor. “What if the . . . terrible, awful, world-eating jotnar come inpeace?”

I put my hands on my hips, striking a pose to make it look like I was confident in my own stupid notion. “That’s what I said. What if the giants are here to, I dunno, parley?”

Corym said, “From what I know, lass, jotnar do not ‘parley.’ They murder and rampage.”

“Have you ever fought them?”

He bowed his head, hugging his folded arms against his chest as he backed up against the wall and made himself smaller. “Well, no . . .”

“Then you can’t know for sure.”

“We’re not going to find out, either,” Sven spat. “Walking up to them and asking if they want to negotiate and trade butter is about the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard of.”

I scowled at him. “Jeez, thanks, asshole.”

He smiled at my anger. “We know what you’re doing, Rav. You’re trying to piece a puzzle together with bits and bobs that don’t fit. Trying to get us riled up so we’ll say, ‘Hel yes, love, let’s get out there and talk to some giants!’”

The corner of my lip curled. “Is it working?”

The boys chuckled.

Sven was right, of course. I didn’t actually believe the giants were peaceful. Why would they come all the way to Midgard just to coexist with us, whenallthe history books told of their violence, their penchant for pillaging and ruining worlds?

No, I needed to trust the Hersirs and Gothi Sigmund. I had to trust my mates, listen to them, and calm down so I could think straight. Because the future had tilted on its axis, and we had no idea what the Norns fated for us.

We were back in the game at Vikingrune Academy, thrust into a crisis that seemed like an existential threat to our race.

It was just a damned shame I had no tolerance for games these days. Not unless they were under the sheets with my boys, anyway.

That evening, the academy was in an uproar. The earthquakes and first sightings of the jotnar had come three days ago. It was a fresh predicament and no one knew how to act.

The high stone walls surrounding the summit of the school were closed off. The gates were barred. Huscarls manned every tower, looking out in every direction. Students ran around like crazy, ordered about by Hersirs and older peers who had a better understanding of military engagement.

The entire student body was funneled into Dorymir Hall as the sun set. It was a mandatory meeting. Any no-shows would be severely punished.

I could hardly eat, so I showed up an hour early. At least fifty other students had the same idea, and the place was a din of low chatter and muffled conversations. When we entered the stadium-style auditorium, which hung off the side of a steep hill and swooped down to the stage past four levels of crescent-shaped benches, I spotted Dagny and Randi on the top floor, near us.

I looked around at the pillars, the stage, the seats, the high windows behind us, letting in moonlight.To think, this was where everyone was first anointed as an initiate of the academy. And now we’re preparing for something unfathomable.

Dagny and Randi noticed me and rushed over. Their eyes were big in their heads, clearly worried.

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