Page 19 of Valkyrie Unknown

I didn’t tell people my travel plans—not like there was anyone to tell—but the information she’d found was responsible for my being here. For my suggesting this to Gwen as a destination when she was trying to figure out where in Nevada had both booze and nudity in the strip clubs. “Yeah. No problems getting here,” I said.

“Why does that sound like you’re qualifying your answer?”

When Mom got sick, she insisted it was always going to happen. That her cancer was expected. I searched everywhere I could for a cure, regardless. If there was magic for everything else, there had to be a way to kill what was ravaging her body.

“Maybe because you’re bored and want a story?” I was playful rather than mean in my reply.

Enid gave a short laugh. “That’s not why, but I’m always up for a good story.”

Back when I met Enid, I’d been asking everyone who would talk to me if there was a way to help my mom. A non-traditional way. I’d always been a book person—stories were my friends at the end of a long day of training—and for Mom, I read everything. I talked to everyone.

I wasn’t raised in a sheltered world, but Momknewmagic and the gods were real, and that meant I did too. I hadn’t realized until I tried to find more obscure information that most people didn’t know or even believe.

When I walked into Enid’s magic shop, I expected more of the same. A woman who didn’t have any idea that humanity was only a portion of the world she sat in, selling a bunch of crystals and cards.

Enid not only believed, but she was also a witch. A being born with a certain kind of magic. She had so much book knowledge—of the obscure, the fascinating and everything in between. But she hadn’t been outside her shop much. Had never traveled away from her small town.

So she gave me her knowledge, and I told her stories of how those things worked in real life.

“Well, I learned that even being a Berserker and being hung like one doesn’t save a man from thinking he’s got a small dick.” Making light of the situation with the wolf was the best way for me to process it.

“That doesn’t sound like nearly as much fun as it could’ve been,” Enid said.

“It really wasn’t.” I’d never gotten the cure to cancer from Enid or anyone else, though she was happy to tell me all the theories she’d learned, and I was willing to share if I’d seen it in action or not.

When Mom passed away, when I pulled away from everything and everyone, that included Enid. It was safer for her. The people I got close to died, because some ancient beings saw me in some ancient visions.

Enid tried more than once to tell me that wasn’t the way things worked, and she was there if I needed. “Well,boo,” she replied. “That was one more piece of information I hoped the books were wrong about.”

That made me chuckle. With sunlight spilling through the window, and a person I knew and trusted to talk to, it was easy to pretend last night was a dream. The other side of the coin from the actual dream I’d woken up from.

Though both left an empty ache in my chest when I thought about Davyn.

“I mean it,” Enid said. “You sound… off. Are you all right?”

I’m really not. “The Berserker had a ring. Amagical roofie.” I’d run into jewelry before that had passive spells. Protection. Strength. Luck. But never one that could be actively used to cast magic.

“Eww.” Disgust leaked into Enid’s reply.

“Yeah. After it knocks a person out, they wake up with an insatiable need to hurt the nearest being.”

“Wait. Did he— Did you— Are you—?” Her stammer oozed fear.

I could guess what she was worried about, becauseroofieimplied?—

I didn’t want to linger on that thought. “I’m fine. Nothing like that happened. He basically said he was looking for a fight.” But his ring had me thinking. “If an artifact, a ring, can do that kind of magic, can it do other things? If I could get my hands on something like that, would it help me?”

“No.”

I wasn’t used to her being so definite in her answers. “Like that? Justno?”

She sighed. “There are pieces of jewelry, accessories, that will let you cast some magic. What kind will depend on whether we can find one and if the theories are true. Most of these trinkets are only effective because they were gifted by a loved one”—love was its own powerful magic—“and the ones that weren’t… If you knew how they were made, you’d be ill.”

“Oh.” I should ask. Later.

“And I’ve never heard of one unlocking someone’s magic.”

What if I’m different? If I chased every possibility out there, I’d spend an eternity spinning my wheels. While the idea of a magical ring that let me be done with prophecies and keep everyone from dying was wonderful, it didn’t feel like a realistic solution.

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