Page 84 of Vow of the Undead
He’d insisted I accept the Call of the Gods in its entirety since he stalked Stasia and I into the woods. He’d stayed by my side to ensure it. And as much as I wanted to fight him on it, I couldn’t blame him.
My chest warmed with unexpected admiration for the man—the monster—before me. He’d dedicated himself to helping the Gods reach me, a human, when he was cut off from them, hated by them. And for what? To protect us? Passing Odin’s trial would mean eventually killing him too. His presence here was a sacrifice that I couldn’t help but respect.
Kayn released a breath and closed his eyes for a moment before meeting my gaze. Something akin to sadness, perhaps regret swam in his dark eyes. “You should be training to kill vampires, not offering sacrifices. You are the only one who can remove the blight on this realm.”
My mother’s voice fell to a whisper. “The power of the Gods will destroy you. If you don’t kill every Draugr before Odin, Freya, and Loki overwhelm your mind. It has happened to every chosen witch before you. I’ve witnessed these visions, my Little Spider.” I leaned closer and tilted my ear toward herlips so that I would not miss a single word. “It is a risk, but the Call is only for you to accept. I cannot tell you what to do any more than Kayn.”
I hadn’t considered where the Call would go if I didn’t accept it. Once I passed on to Folkvangr or Valhalla, carried away by a Valkyrie not unlike the statue over the graves, another witch would face this same decision.
Unless, I spared her from it and saw it through…to whatever end.
My eyes slid back to Kayn who hovered over us. I straightened and cleared my throat of all emotion. “I will commune with the Gods. I will ask Odin and Freya.” I spoke this decision aloud more for the sake of my own courage than to inform them.
“They require sacrifice,” my mother said, her voice breathy but stronger, as if she forced the words out with the last dregs of her energy. “Freya always wants us to have wisdom, because there is freedom in knowledge.”
“Like the lost history?”
“She would want us to have it. And Silver, my sleep was not all lost time.” She tugged me closer to her. I leaned in, just as I had when I was a child and she’d whisper the sagas to me. “I asked her not to choose you, but her response was a single phrase in my mind. Silver is the queen.”
My heart skipped. Did that mean King Drakkar would succeed in claiming me?
I pulled back and looked at her, my mouth hanging open like a child struck between awe and fear.
She smiled weakly. “I believe you will find the lost history and that it will restore the truths of our Gods. The Gods know what they’re doing. The runestones could have been taken from this very temple and hidden in the castle. Seek the answers, Little Spider.”
I nodded, numb from the suggestion behind her vision. Standing, I lay my mother’s hand back on her stomach and turned toward the back of the temple.
With one foot in front of the other, I approached the bloodstained altar. Runes carved into the dark Yew beneath the flat altar were once filled with the blood of sacrifices. I’d never seen a person give their life for the Gods, only an animal, but it was the way of our ancestors, to appease the Odin and Freya and receive answers.
If I wanted clarity, I had to offer a sacrifice.
With every step toward the altar of sacrifice, my nerves frayed, leaving my skin sensitive with goosebumps and my heart thumping uncontrollably. I left my mother and the truth she spoke in my wake as I approached the center of the Hall of the Gods where our ancestors offered sacrifices.
“Silver,” Kayn said, his voice rough. “What are you doing?”
I continued toward the altar before my courage waned. The Gods would want something from me, and based on the stained altar, and the runes below, they’d want what flowed through my veins.
“What is required for this sacrifice?” he asked, his footsteps pacing behind me.
I stepped up to the altar, the runes carved into the yew at my feet. Deep ridges created all twenty-four runes in the ground around the base. The altar was cut with lines like rivers snaking from the spike at the center.
He ran ahead and cut in front of me, blocking my fixation on the altar. “You’ve only just recovered from Loki’s trial.”
I rolled my eyes up to his face and lifted my chin. “What is my health to you? You’ve delivered your message, let me read it.”
His jaw flexed. “Will this sacrifice hurt you?” I said nothing. It was obvious enough. “Let me heal you after.”
“And risk turning into a vampire?”
“You’re chosen. You will not turn.”
“I will not drink your blood, Kayn.” I placed my hand on his chest and pushed him back so that I might step around him and stand before the altar.
He let me push him away but grabbed my wrist and turned me toward him. “You don’t have to.” Breath caught in my throat at the sight of his blunt fangs jutting from above the row of teeth at the top of his mouth. “There is another way I can heal you.”
“You can’t bite me either,” I said. When he shook his head, I furrowed my brow. If there were other options to heal a witch, why did we raise a vampire? Why did I deplete my energy compelling her? “I knew you were full of secrets, Kayn.” I hoped the bite in my voice was as obvious as my frown. “Why didn’t you do this when my mother needed it?”
He barely let me finish before his words tumbled over mine. “The recipient must first accept it, and any healing whether it’s drinking my blood or not, requires a connection that I do not have with her.”
