Page 90 of Vow of the Undead
My mouth went dry, but I peeled my lips open and looked up at Kayn as I spoke. “I have to kill the council before they force everyone to leave. I won’t let them send Ragna and the other witches to die.” I glanced at Stasia. “And Finan.”
How many witches had Finan sent into exile? How many people did he execute based on claims of violence? This wasn’t for me to ruminate on, not with Stasia staring at me like that. I didn’t know him, but I wanted to make her tears stop. Tears on Stasia’s perfect cherub face looked unnatural. She was born to be full of joy and food and hope.
“You need more training,” Kayn said. “I won’t let you march to your death, Silver.”
Stasia heaved a shaky breath, drawing our attention. “Ylva and Darius and several other council members were overseeing the exodus, but King Drakkar wasn’t there. The castle might be empty for a few more days.”
“I have to go now?—”
“Once you can both compel me and strike me at the same time.” His tone was insistent, but not demanding like the king’s commands.
I chewed on this, thinking carefully about my response.
From the moment Kayn tried to stop me from walking into Mara’s Keep, he’d intended to save me from the king and his vampire courtiers. I should have gone with him then. I should have listened to him the first time.
“One more day of training.”
He nodded. “One day.”
Istood before the grave with the Valkyrie after another full day of training with the stake, with compulsion, and hoping to tease out Odin’s gift. I turned my hand over and a beam of moonlight cast over my pale palm, giving enough light for me to see that the lifeline from my hand to my wrist wasn’t even red anymore.
All evidence of my sacrifice had been erased now. Not even a scar was left. Thanks to Kayn, and our connection.
“Isn’t it ironic?” I said to Stasia who was inspecting the open grave. “That the pain of a sacrifice required by the Gods was healed by the creature they condemn?”
“Not all of them. Loki seems to like the monsters in the saga of theChildren of Ragnarok,” she said. “Also, the sacrifice gave you an answer. It’s not like Odin came down here himself and forced your hand over the altar. Just like when he chose to hang from the tree of Yggdrasil, you chose to sacrifice yourself. And it was only a little cut.”
Stasia was no stranger to giving voice to what needed to be said, though neither of us was entirely right. We weren’t wrong either.
I stared at the grave where Kayn had just buried himself.This was my last act of training, raising Kayn from sleep with compulsion. Since I’d only tried that once, and it’d been a process of trial and error riddled in shock and fear, I hadn’t noticed any subtle powers from Odin that may have mingled with Loki’s compulsion.
After a few minutes to allow him to slip into sleep, I’d drop to my hands and knees and wake him. This time, focusing on any extra abilities, strength or speed, though none of those would make sense with raising a vampire from his grave. Still, this was the task remaining and I'd only practiced it once. And Kayn wasn’t about to let me leave without attempting everything that might draw our knowledge of what Odin had gifted me.
I needed all the help I could get against the king.
I blinked up at the Valkyrie. Her hidden face piqued my interest. Why keep her a mystery? I wanted to see the eyes of the warrior woman who served Odin. Why did the Gods keep their answers a mystery? Freya could have given my mother a vision.
But I supposed the Gods were not here to serve me, and as Stasia reminded me, theHávamáltaught the history of Odin, which gave the example that not even a God himself was above sacrifice. The Poetic Edda said he hung from the tree for nine days and nine nights with a spear in his side in order to access the runes they used to communicate with us today.
Stasia snapped her fingers in front of my face. “I release you from your trance.” Coming from Stasia, I knew it was a joke, though how she spoke so lightly of witchcraft, I didn’t understand. “Look, I’m in awe of her beauty too.” She nodded toward the statue. “And I’ve definitely wondered what it’d be like to kiss a Valkyrie. But I’m willing to bet your lips are reserved for the Exile, so what are you doing staring at my woman?”
I smiled to mirror her smirk. Heat burned my neck and I curled my bottom lip under, remembering the connectionbetween me and Kayn, the pulsing energy that enclosed us in a moment of his pure compassion and my eager willingness.
Our connection was quiet, similar, like an unspoken prayer. He knew and accepted that I needed protection when he first guarded me from King Drakkar, and later, he knew and accepted that I needed someone to catch me, to heal me. Finding him through my mother was no mistake, no coincidence. She’d once been the only one with an arm around me, willing to accept me as I truly was, and willing to heal me despite the risk to her.
“Huh,” Stasia’s voice cut through my thoughts. She was grinning even wider now. “Now I assume you’re lost in thought about kissingboththe Exile and the Valkyrie together. And while I definitely don’t blame you, I hate to have to tell you that this Valkyrie is just a statue. Her lips would be as cold as Kayn’s.”
I raised my brows. “Contrary to what goes on in your mind, I wasn’t fantasizing about kissing. And Kayn’s lips aren’t cold.”
She shook her head. “I still don’t understand how a creature who is neither living nor dead can heal a human.”
“A witch,” I corrected. Though I was technically both, there was still a distinct difference. “And I don’t get it either. But my mother says she once received a response from Odin that said the answers to everything are lost in our history. That’s one of the reasons she insists on not letting the true history of our ancestors die. What she can remember, anyway.”
“Speaking of an answer from the Gods.” She shifted her eyes to the grave. “Does Kayn think you’re ready?”
“Yes. He hasn’t said it, but I can tell.”In the way that he praises me.
“So your plan is to sneak in and kill the king first?” Her green eyes were brightened by the surrounding grass. Snowflakes caught in between the blades of grass and alongher eyelashes, but they melted quickly. The last stretch of the Polar Nocturne was always the coldest.
