I found Skyla in the living room and motioned to the kitchen. “It’s clear in here, too.”
Val returned from searching the other downstairs rooms. He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Embla and Naomi tromped down the stairs and rejoined us.
“Nothing,” said Naomi.
“What game are they playing?” Embla asked.
Through the kitchen window, beyond the yard, somewhere on the dock, the sudden glimmer of a flame arced through the sky.
“Look.” I pointed. “I guess they’re playing capture the flag, er, sword.”
The flame waved, leaving a contrail of bright, burning plasma, like the color guard in a demonic high-school marching band. Come and get me, it said.
“If they want a fight, they’ll get a fight,” Naomi said, growling.
Skyla grabbed Naomi’s arm and stopped the Valkyrie from charging forward. “That’s what they want. They want us to go rushing out there, rash and unprepared.”
Naomi was the smallest of us all, but she wore the most vicious expression: teeth bared, eyes sparking with fury. She drew a long blade from a sheath at her hip. I had learned in my previous training at the Aerie that the Valkyries’ weapons carried an extra bit of power in the form of runes, gifted to them from Odin years ago. The Valkyries imbued their blades with the power of those runes, and it gave them the necessary edge to defeat mythological creatures. Perhaps even the gods.
“I’m not unprepared,” Naomi said.
“You’re talking about fighting a son of Thor,” Val said. “Grim might not have Mjölnir or Thorin’s other enhancements, but he won’t go down easily. There’s a reason the Viking berserkers worshipped Grim before going into battle. He got his battle rage from his father. You don’t stand a chance against him when he makes up his mind to fight. He’s a brawler, and he’s lethal with just his bare hands. He’s had to be because he has nothing else to fall back on.”
“But say we got lucky anyway,” I said. “You can’t kill Grim and expect there won’t be repercussions from the other Aesir.”
“Solina’s right.” Val squeezed my shoulder. “Thorin won’t take kindly to you poking lethal holes in his only brother.”
Naomi huffed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, I won’t try to kill Grim. Not unless he forces my hand.”
“Embla,” Skyla said, “if you, Naomi, and Solina focus on the fire sword, then Val and I will keep an eye out for Grim. He has to be here. He obviously lured us here.”
I pursed my lips at Skyla and huffed. “I thought you said I didn’t stand a chance against Tori and that I was a danger to myself.”
Skyla lowered her gaze and looked away. “I have a feeling your fire might be our best chance against that sword.”
“Glad we can agree on that.”
It wasn’t much of a plan, but we were armed and somewhat prepared. As long as Grim and Tori had the sword, and as long as we wanted to take it from them, they would have the advantage. I didn’t mean to let them keep it for long.
An arc of fire blazed in the distance again, tempting us like cheese enticing rats to the trap.
“Sometimes, you just have to take the bait,” I mumbled to myself.
Through the back door and out into the yard, Embla, Naomi and I moved toward the lake, tentative and wary but focused on the sword and its wielder. Val and Skyla hung back, anticipating Grim’s approach. We reached the dock, and I stopped to look back, to verify that Val had taken his place behind me as promised, but a cry of alarm and the sick thwack of battered flesh announced that something had gone terribly wrong.
Val cursed. Another, deeper voice barked out a harsh word. A crack was followed by another shriek that sounded like Skyla in pain. Someone cried out again, and a limp body flew through the darkness before splashing into the lake, beyond the end of the dock.
What the hell?
Skyla grunted, and I raised my fire. She and Grim were knotted together like Olympic wrestlers. He twisted and slammed her to the ground. Skyla’s head rocked back and cracked against the ground, and she fell still and silent at his feet. Oh, God, no… Val had tried to caution us, but his warning failed to adequately prepare us for the truth. If Val, a full-blooded Aesir, couldn’t stand up to Grim longer than he had, the rest of us had even less hope. We’d never really stood a chance against Grim, against a son of Thor whose ultimate weapon was his own two hands and an insane lust for battle.
My ears popped, and an instant later, a set of powerful arms wrapped around me and squeezed. I called out my fire and cranked my internal torch full throttle. Grim yelped and dropped me, and I turned to face him. In the circle of my light stood a large man who I might have mistaken for Thorin if not for the brutality in his face. Skyla had crumpled, lifeless, at his feet, and Val was gone.
Grim’s lips split into a sneer. Cruelty shone in the gleam of his teeth. Grim watched me with focused attention, possibly searching out my weak spots. I had them, for sure, but he wouldn’t find them without a fight.
“What do you want, Grim?” I asked, crouched in a defensive stance.
“Your death by Skoll is a great threat to my well-being,” he said.
Where had I heard that before?
“I survived Ragnarok once. I will not take my chances again.”
“There’s no mistaking whose brother you are.” Besides looking a great deal like Thorin, Grim also sounded just like him.
“Magni is soft. He has failed in his duty to his race.”
“But not you. You’re going to kill me and assure your perpetuity. That’s how your brother put it.”
Grim smiled, and his iciness brought goose bumps to my arms. “I am most certainly going to kill you. Just not right this minute.”
“You won’t touch her. Not now, not ever.” Naomi appeared from the darkness and moved into my circle of light. She had drawn her sword and pointed it at Grim.
“Put away your toy, Valkyrie,” Grim said, condescension thick in his tone. “You are my servant. You will do no harm to me.”
Embla stepped up beside Naomi. She raised her weapon, a long, dark blade the perfect length for throwing. “For too long we’ve been your servants. We have fulfilled your desires and demands at your whim—at the whims of all Aesir. In return, we have been used and discarded— shoved in a corner and forgotten. For centuries, we have trained and prepared. We held ourselves ready, but for nothing. The days when we were your servants, your whores, are over.”
