Page 6 of Between Broomsticks and Beating Wings
The sun was beginning to set already, casting shades of pink and yellow across the sky streaked with clouds. I hadn't realized just how much time I’d spent in the forest, gathering my bounty. Days when I had no patients or clients coming to see me always went by in a blur. It was impossible to know where my precious time had gone. Too much time spent frolicking and recounting visions, I suppose.
As I made my way out of the forested area, I noticed a swarm of bloodflies coming in from the east.
Great.
These vermin plagued our village—not just by infecting our food with the rot they carried on their little bodies, but they plagued our minds as well. They were our reminder that Stormheim was on the edge of collapse due to outside forces. War was closing in around us, the reason for it lost on me. All I knew was, people were dying or being pushed out of their homes, and the battle was spreading like an untreated disease—quick and out of control.
Seeing the pesky creatures, there was one last thing I needed before I could race the setting sun.Acorns.I searched the ground, instructing Tove to be on the lookout for perfect, unsampled ones. He tried to paw at the little round nuts to inspect them, occasionally tripping over himself or tackling one of the nicer acorns. He pulled laughs from me, unhindered bycurious nearby ears, though I could feel there was a pair out there somewhere.
For the past two years, I felt eyes on the back of my head upon the exit of the sun from our sky. The sensation came in the form of a tickle down my spine, and I chalked the feeling up to creeping spirits. I couldn’t allow myself to consider that the looming force was something more sinister. As I picked up the few remaining acorns of Tove’s selection, I pondered if the presence haunting me had anything to do with my recent twisted dreams. I thought about my scribbles and runes, how I’d made no progress uncovering the glimpses of the future for the first time in my life.
Was I desperate enough to…
No, Kari. Don’t.
I heard a twig snap in the distance, and the chills running down my neck amplified. This presence was no mere ghost.
Fuck it.
“Hello?” I called out into the night, holding my breath in between questions. “Anyone there?”
I slowed my beating heart so I could hear if there was any sort of response, be it a verbal reply or footsteps that ran off into the distance, but there was nothing except the buzz of insects and the howl of the wind. I pulled my shawl in closer, telling Tove it was time to return home.
When I turned on my heel, I caught a flash of blue out of the corner of my eye, but I had no interest in communicating with the deceased tonight. As I carried on, I ducked beneath a fallen log. I was almost in the clear, but a swarm of bloodflies buzzed around me, some bold enough to land upon my skin.
A scream ripped loose from my lips as I felt them crawling over my flesh. “Go find something dead to feast on, you rotten, no good wastes of space!”
Sunset had passed, and I hurried from the insects into the safety of the area lit by village torches. It was stupid of me to lose track of time like that, taking no fire with me to guide my way. I pulled one of the permanent village torches from the ground and used its glow to find my way home.
CHAPTER FOUR
APPLES FOR APPLE
Rune
Rayna and I snuck toward a large iron door, careful not to alert our house mother, Asta, to our late departure. Asta had been enduring my antics for over a century, and I wouldn’t have had any gripes about continuing in my ways if not for Rayna. Rayna cared deeply about her duty and how people such as Asta looked down upon her and cast their judgment. She lived for praise and pride and wouldn’t allow my behavior to impact her ability to become one of the most valuable soul collectors in the House of Wings.
Rayna hadn’t been chosen by Odin for the Valhalla sect of the House of Wings like I’d been long ago. She, like most valkyries, was selected initially by one of the four other sects. In most cases, valkyries must provide invaluable service for decades—centuries—before they capture Odin’s attention. Only then would he advocate for a transfer of houses and take them under his metaphorical wing. A house transfer was a rare thing, and Rayna had done it after only one year of service in Freyja’s sect in Fólkvangr. The time it took for her to catch Odin’s attentionwas unheard of, and the day she was sworn into his sect, she rewrote history.
Reaching for the iron door’s handle, I didn’t care if I alerted the whole realm. Rayna shot me a look that demanded I behave, and, just as my fingers brushed the cool metal, I reduced my strength, dragging down the handle with maddening slowness. Once the two of us were safely on the other side, into the tunnels lit by nothing but torches anchored to the wall, Rayna released a breath.
“Thank you.” She squeezed my forearm, her eyes locked eagerly on the base of the tunnel—a black void that led to a field of stars.
“Same time tomorrow?” I asked, a laugh hidden somewhere within my shrouded voice. She shot me a glare, one side of her face illuminated by candlelight, the other half lost to the darkness.
Winding through the tunnels didn’t take long, as our muscles memorized the way long ago. The path was a direct shortcut built under the House of Wings for emergencies, though to my younger sister, being latewasan emergency. The rest of our sisters traveled to the fields above ground, but that required leaving the front door and walking right past Asta’s chambers—so the tunnels it was.
When a sparkle of moonlight blessed our vision, we knew we were in the right place. Rayna climbed up the ladder first, leaving me alone in the darkness. Maybe I hesitated each night, my boots lingering on dirt floors, because the silence, the peace, was my hidden pleasure. When Rayna called down for me, I raised my chin, shook off my growing doubt, and ascended the ladder.
Rayna tipped back her head and audibly sucked in midnight air, releasing her breath back into the dark sky littered with twinkling stars. I joined in, expelling the stale tunnel air frommy lungs and replacing it with crisp, Asgardian oxygen. I swore the air here was intoxicating. Odin's Hall was one thing, shiny and marvelous, but the rest of Asgard was glorious mountains, breathtaking fjords, and air so fresh, it rivaled berry mead.
“Let’s go!” Rayna’s pointer finger found the sky, and she began running as two large figures suddenly nosedived in our direction. But she wasn’t runningawayfrom the looming feathered beings. No, she was runningtowardthem.
The being with dusty charcoal feathers and hair—long and obsidian—opened its muzzle and let out an irritated chuff. She dipped down close to the grassy meadow, but her hooves never touched down. That didn’t stop Rayna. Using her well trained muscles, she launched herself into the air and grabbed hold of the pegasus’ harness, squeezing her calves around her midsection. The winged horse didn’t wait for the valkyrie to adjust herself before she shot back into the sky.
Showoff.I muttered, then spun to see where the other pegasus had disappeared to. A white streak through the sky stole my attention. I brought two fingers to my lips and, with a loud, pointed whistle, called her over.
The creature dove to meet me. Her landing, while graceful, caused air to whoosh around her massive wings, sending a hit of oxygen up my nose, sobering me a little more. When her black hooves graced the flattened grasses, I reached up for her bridle and directed her face toward me. Her soft, putty-like chin found my palm, then her curious lips nipped me.
