Page 85 of Vow of the Undead
I opened my mouth to argue, but found that nothing came out. Frozen, I stared at him helplessly. There was too much I didn’t understand. Even after a childhood of careful teaching, warning of the monsters, and the pendant in my pocket, the sagas I’d memorized barely scratched the surface of the ice that coated the truth.
“How is it that a monster cares for my pain?” Nerves came through my voice with an edge.
I wasn’t mad at him, but he was the one standing in front of me. I couldn’t snap at the altar for requiring my blood and sacrifice. It was just a hunk of carved wood.
He was real, flesh and muscle, sending fire through my veins as I waited for his response. I didn’t know why I wanted him to tell me he cared for me. It was childish.
But I wanted it anyway.
The gold in his eyes flared, nearly choking out the brown. “I wasn’t always a monster.”
“Fine, you may heal me after.” I said it so he’d move. I was already fixated on communing with the Gods and he would not stop me, and he didn’t give me the confession I wanted.
Maybe he didn’t share the same interest that stirred within me.
As I’d hoped, he stepped aside and let go of my hand. With my hand free now, I thrust it into my pocket and pulled out the pendant.
Tipping the sharp edge against my palm, I stretched out my arms over the spike. I pressed harder and harder until the tip split my skin open. Sucking air through my teeth, I dragged the tip across the longest line of my left palm, the lifeline. With every beat of my heart, I became more aware of the stinging. The persistent pain caused my arms to quiver, my hands shaking with every stretch of flesh I cut into. I pulled the weapon down, down until the line in my hand disappeared at my wrist.
Hot blood flowed freely over the spike in the altar. It dripped slowly at first and then filled the ridges quickly. Some dried up, the river of red stopping short, while two filled, the blood flowing to the edge of the flat altar and spilling over the side.
I swayed. My head suddenly felt too heavy for my shoulders and my legs did not want to support me. Rocking back on my heels, I expected to fall as darkness seeped in at the edges of my vision. Instead, a warm presence hovered behind me as Kayn made himself known. I tipped into his chest and was vaguely aware of his hands gently cupping my arms.
My knees gave away and I sank into him, but he did notforce me to stay upright. He dipped with me, carefully seating me between his legs as we slowly dropped to the floor, his strength the only thing keeping me from collapsing.
I blinked rapidly, desperately attempting to clear the dark spots from my eyes. As three runes beneath the altar filled with my blood, I craned my neck to see their shapes.
An upright line with one triangular protrusion and an open ending line at the bottom turned red as the shape filled the highest.Raido, meant to journey or travel the path ahead, often used in the sagas to refer to hunters traveling paths to their prey. Then a portion of the animals caught and killed would be sacrificed to Odin and feasted upon by his people. Next, the rune with an upright line and an open arm reaching to the sky, like a tree with a single branch, filled halfway. My path—my hunt—would be one of pain and transformation.Kaunsymbolized suffering through change.
The majority of my blood pooled in a final, haunting shape.
An upright line with a peaked top, like an arrow pointing to the skies.Tewaiz, represented warriors.
It didn’t matter how desperately I locked the darkness away, even the Gods knew I was meant to fight—to survive.
To become a huntress.
My hand stung and strength waned. My body threatened to buckle beneath me when the gift of an unexpected vision took hold of me.
Darkness enveloped me and before me a figure appeared.
Based on the descriptions I’d heard from the sagas, I knew Odin was standing before me.
His tall, gaunt body stretched above me. He was mostly concealed within the dark cloak wrapped around him, but I saw the long ragged beard hanging over his chest and stomach and the glint of his single eye, the other having been sacrificed long ago for wisdom. Two ravens perched on either side of him, their claws clinging to his bony shoulders.
Though this was like Freya’s visions, I knew it wasn’t. Not when the Hall of the Gods filled in around Odin.
He was visiting me—me. However briefly, he was here, standing before me, and I was both captivated and humbled at the same time.
All pain and exhaustion temporarily melted away as I focused every ounce of my attention on the Allfather.
“Kill the kings,” he said. His haunting voice echoed all around me like a pulse of energy. “This is for you to do alone. Only trust yourself.”
Another voice split through the haze of my awe, almost dissipating the entire scene of Odin standing before me.
“Do you have what you need?” Kayn whispered from behind me, his breath warm and soothing against my ear.
“Do you see him?” I breathed. “Do you see Odin?”
