While I shrugged on her shirt, Skyla led us to another heavy door, halfway down the passage. She pushed the door open, and I followed her into another large storage space. Row after row of plastic-wrapped, pallet-stacked boxes filled the room’s interior. Skyla turned to the nearest heap, braced her sneaker against it, and shoved. The bundle shifted and fell against the door, raising a deafening clatter.
“What are you—” I began, but a guard rounded the corner.
Skyla fired her gun, and he fell to the floor. I turned away from the horrible blood spurt. My stomach rolled over, and bile climbed up my throat. Another sentry came fast behind his partner, but Skyla swung the grip of her gun and whacked him in the temple. Stunned, he stumbled forward, and Skyla struck him again. She jabbed her knee into the delicate area between his legs. The guard hunched over, fell to his knees, and moaned.
“Thorin and Baldur are at the front of this room,” Skyla said as she disarmed the dazed guard. “I think Thorin’s out cold, but Baldur’s up. See if you can get them out of here while I deal with this guy.”
I sucked a deep breath, pushed down my qualms about blood and violence, and ran for the front of the warehouse, expecting the bite of a bullet to tear through my chest any moment.
Baldur heard me coming and looked up. His blue eyes widened, and his mouth parted. “Solina? What are you doing here?”
“Trying to save your dumb asses.” I knelt beside Thorin, who lay on the floor, unconscious and still as death. “How long has he been out?”
“He burns through the drugs quickly, so they keep remedicating him.” Baldur sat on the floor, wearing shackles composed of a strange wooden substance woven into thick, ropy braids.
A mistletoe arrow had caused Baldur’s original death, eons before. Now, apparently, it acted as kryptonite or an Achilles’s heel, weakening him to less than mortal standards. Helen’s guards had bound Thorin in more traditional metal handcuffs, which seemed pointless, considering his strength.
Baldur’s next statement reiterated my own conclusions. “Those restraints would never hold him otherwise.”
“It would be handy if those drugs would burn off again right now.”
In sleep, Thorin looked no less menacing, as if somewhere under the surface he was waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
A shot was fired in the rear of the warehouse. Baldur and I jumped and looked over our shoulders. More gunfire. Voices shouted, several more besides Skyla and the other guard. Either our pursuers had found us, or Skyla had found more guards. The crack of gunfire was echoed by a grunt, another shot, and a horrible screech.
I jumped to my feet. “Skyla!” I yelled. “Skyla!”
She didn’t answer. I started forward, meaning to go after her, but caught myself and stopped. I shoved her out of my thoughts and returned to the task before me. If Skyla was hurt, I would need Baldur’s help getting her out of there. If she was dead… No. Don’t think about it. I hadn’t gone all that way to lose her again so soon.
Once I untied Baldur’s bindings and unwrapped the mistletoe twine from his hands and legs, the Allfather stood, but he swayed on his feet. “Let’s get you out of here, Solina.” His voice was weak and unsteady.
“What about Thorin?” I motioned to the sleeping man at my feet.
“He can take care of himself.”
“But he’s vulnerable.”
Baldur shook his head. “Not for long. We both know he’d want me to protect you first and foremost.”
Skyla stumbled around the corner of a nearby crate and sank to one knee. She clutched her shoulder, and blood seeped between her fingers. “Helen’s here,” she said through gritted teeth. “Nate and the wolf too.”
I went to her and grabbed her good shoulder. She sagged against me.
“Are you shot?” I asked. “I mean, I know you are, but are you gonna be okay?”
“Bastard clipped my shoulder.” Skyla’s pupils were huge, her eyes glassy, and her brown skin had gone frighteningly pale.
Baldur held out a hand toward me and hissed in a low voice. “We’ve got to get going, Solina.”
Before I could reply, a new voice echoed through the room. “Where are they, damn it? Where the hell are they?”
Helen Locke. Her voice was unmistakable, and her tone sent ice prickles down my spine. Baldur, Skyla, and I ducked and wedged between a stack of crates. “Could any of you people be more incompetent?”
“Skoll says the girl is here,” said Nate, who had obviously recovered from my attack. But his voice sounded rough and pained. “Her scent is very fresh.”
I pointed at Skyla and hissed at Baldur, trying to keep my voice low. “Take her. Hurry. She’s bleeding.”
Skyla opened her mouth, presumably to argue, but I shot her a steely look, urging her not to argue. I loved her, and she was the best friend I’d ever had, other than my brother. No matter the cost, I had to choose her life over my own. One of these days, that’s probably going to get me killed.
Baldur reached for Skyla but paused. He put his hand to his chest in a strange gesture. A shiver rolled across his shoulders, and paleness washed over his face. He shook it off and presented his clenched fist to me, like a child offering some secret, wriggling gift to his friend.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
As if we have time for doubt. “Yes. I do.”
Baldur leaned forward, pressed his fist against my chest, and spoke a strange word. The place where he touched me, over my sternum, burned as though he had struck me with a brand. I gasped and clenched my teeth to keep from crying out. When he moved his hand away, a pattern, pink and raw like a fresh burn, appeared on my skin.
“A rune?” I asked.
It resembled the marks I had seen on Thorin’s iron cuffs and on the Valkyries’ weapons.
“I don’t have the time or energy for better,” Baldur said. “This will be enough to make Helen and the others tend to overlook you. They won’t be fooled for long, but it’s the best I can do.”
Baldur’s superpowers were his godly mojo and general charm and charisma. I hadn’t known he possessed runic powers too. That could come in handy.
Baldur squeezed my shoulder and whispered something that sounded like “dagaz.” Then he pulled Skyla into his arms, and they both disappeared.
A couple of sharp barks exploded across the room, announcing Skoll had returned to wolf form and was on the hunt for me. Could Baldur hear my prayers? Oh please, Baldur. Please, please hurry.
