Page 85 of The Last Valkyrie

Have I crossed points into another world?

I gripped Damon tighter, carrying him with his knees bent over my left arm and neck draped over my right. The mountain was impossibly tall for how long I’d been traveling in the sky—no mere landscape of mortal design.

The sun was bright, joined by another smaller sun off in the distance. Reflections of the pillared structure at the summit of the mountain glinted on my armor, blurring my eyes.

There was a small plot of land in front of the structure, which I noticed as a temple of some kind—a long hall built of white stone and golden spires. It was ornate, resplendent, and I found myself smiling as I dropped down onto the grass and beat my wings twice to glide to a smooth landing.

To my right, across a glade of marble, sat a familiar chariot, ornately carved and elegant. I nodded at the two large catsstanding guard at the chariot—Bygul and Trjegul, the steeds of goddess Freyja.

She was nowhere to be seen, and I assumed she waited in the temple ahead.

Up a flight of steps I walked with Damon still tight in my arms.

Huge double doors opened, the height of three men from end to end. A large figure appeared to stop my entrance. He was broad-shouldered, with a dark cloak and long white hair and beard. A patch covered one of his eyes.

Unlike Freyja, who had been naked yet holding golden-plated hunting armor ready to don, this man wore dark robes and looked more ready for bed than battle. He was scholarly, ancient, wizened. A wide-brimmed hat circled his face, shadowing his features. He leaned heavily on a golden staff, resting his chin on the pommel as two ravens circled overhead.

I nearly gasped at the sight of the man, stuttering to a stop near the top of the fifty or so steps. I knew who he was, because everyone would know who he was.

The door was open behind the deity, a golden light piercing through the veil of clouds this high in the mountains. I could hear laughter and revelry yet could see nothing past the man in the interior of the great hall.

Holding my brother’s soul in one arm, light as ever, I kneeled in front of the waiting wizard. “Allfather.” I bowed my head in reverence.

“Rise, child,” Odin said. His voice was deep, resonant, and commanding. “What has the chooser of the slain brought me?”

When I glanced up, I recognized Odin the Allfather as being taller than I’d expected when first ascending these steps. He was taller than any man, as a god ought to be, with my head barely rising above his stomach.

Despite his old age, he looked like he could snap me in two with hands the size of my torso.And jotnar are called giants? Gods above.

“We are the gods above,” he explained, reading my thoughts easily. “Have you not flown to Asgard before? To Valhalla?”

I shook my head. “No, Allfather. I’ve never seen its beauty. It is . . . transcendent.”

He grunted, glancing back over his shoulder. Though his face was serious, I saw mirth in his eyes, dancing. “Remember it well, child, for it may be the last time you see it for some time.”

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean, Allfather?”

“We don’t receive many visitors these days. Times are troubled, and people’s souls are rotten more often than not.”

I swallowed hard, nodding.

“Would that I could let you in . . .” Odin added, trailing off. “Alas, it is not your time. This one, however?” He nudged his long beard toward my brother in my arms. “It is his time.”

Clenching my jaw, I shook my head. Odin reached out, yet I pulled back, holding Damon close against my chest.

“What’s this?” he asked, hesitating, his giant arm reaching out. “You deign to deny your Allfather another soldier?”

I blinked, and in a heartbeat his golden staff had shifted into a great spear with three prongs.Gungnir, the spear that never misses. Crafted by dwarfs, it’s said.His spear put mine to shame, of course.

“No, great Odin, but that is why I have come,” I explained quickly, careful not to draw anymore of Odin’s ire. “There has been a mistake.”

“There are no mistakes in death, child.”

“I wish to strike a bargain, in your infinite wisdom, to return Damon Halldan to Midgard. His work is not yet done.”

Odin’s nostrils flared, and I took a step back in fear.

“Now you would lie to an Asgardian? Unwise, child. My choosers of the slain do not dictate who they deliver, and who is ready.”

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