“You’re a spineless bitch, Tori. The Valkyries are better off without you.”
Tori spat out a shriek that sheared through the crisp air and raised the hairs on the back of my neck. She pivoted, jerked Skyla off balance and jabbed a knee into her side. Skyla wheezed and fell to the ground as Tori turned and came for me.
My flames erupted in a cloak and cowl of blazing glory. Another set of clothing burned and gone, but Skyla was worth the risk of frostbite. I widened my stance and lowered my center of gravity. Tori could kick my butt in a fistfight, but let her see how she did against my fire.
“Solina,” Skyla called my name, warning me. She struggled to her feet.
Baldur moved, lightning fast, and knocked Tori aside. Before she regained her balance, I pounced.
Tori screamed. She shifted her weight, rolled, and threw me off. I scuttled back and regained my feet.
“Solina.” She breathed heavily, gritting her teeth. Her winter clothes had protected her, mostly, but a red welt rose on her cheek. Her gloves and winter coat hung in tatters. “It has to go this way. We can’t risk the wolf killing you.”
I bared my teeth at her and growled. “If you had my back, if you fought on my side, Skoll would never stand a chance. But instead, you chose to sacrifice me because why? Because it’s easier? Because Grim told you to?”
While I talked and held Tori’s attention, Baldur teleported himself behind her. Ice cracked under his feet, giving his position away. Tori spun, faced Baldur, and raised her knife, presumably the one laced with mistletoe. Baldur had already tasted that poison—no need for a second helping. I leapt forward, aiming to tackle Tori, but she danced aside, and I skidded on the ice, missing her by a breath. My flames sputtered. I had used most of the energy the apples had given me, and I had nearly reached the bottom of my fuel tank.
Skyla stumbled to her feet and clutched her side. She lunged, throwing a fist into Tori’s jaw. Tori wheeled back, and Skyla kicked her feet out from beneath her. Tori fell to her back and cried out. Skyla straddled Tori, sitting on her, and wrapped her hands around Tori’s neck.
“Solina,” Baldur said. “Kill your fire.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it!” he ordered.
The command in his voice required compliance, and I couldn’t resist, especially in my weakened state. My flames guttered and died. Baldur threw his arms around me, and in the moment before he carried us away, someone screamed. The cry ended in a horrible gargle.
“No,” I said as my ears popped. “We can’t leave them.”
“My job is to protect you, Solina. I can’t take any more chances. We must go.”
Baldur dumped me in a room heated to sauna proportions and ordered me to sleep. I didn’t know where he had brought me, but I asked no questions and offered no protests. My mind sank into a white haze, and I embraced the reprieve it granted. The sandman carried me into unconsciousness, and all the gods together couldn’t have stopped him.
I woke later, shivers wracking my body with horrible spasms. My muscles cramped in such terrific pain I thought they might tear away from the bone. I might have screamed. Someone came and held me, feeding me warm medicinal drinks that burned my throat but eased the cramping. The trembling subsided, and I sank back into a blessed oblivion.
Chapter Twenty-six
For the first time in what felt like ages, I woke up warm and cozy, but thirst had turned my throat and eyes into sandpaper. Skyla appeared at my bedside, waiting with a mug of hot chicken broth and a glass of water.
“Sip this slow.” She passed me the mug.
I sucked down the broth and gave it back to her for a refill.
She chuckled and shook her head. “I said slow.”
“Try telling that to my stomach,” I said.
Skyla obliged my request for seconds and returned a few moments later with another cup of soup.
“Where are we?” I asked after scanning my surroundings—log walls, chintz curtains, hand-stitched quilts.
“A rental cabin near Rainier. We set this up as sort of a base camp, but we didn’t intend to stay here this long. Baldur was too weak to make the jump all the way back to New Breidablik with passengers.”
I took her hand and squeezed it. “Baldur made me leave you. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to.”
“We’re all together now. He came back for me.”
“Are you okay? The fighting was so horrible.”
“I’ve got a bruised rib, some sore knuckles, but otherwise, I’m fine.”
“What happened? Is Tori…?” My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t finish the question.
Lines of strain appeared around Skyla’s mouth and eyes. “Tori wasn’t going to stop. She was intent on killing you and on getting me out of her way so I couldn’t interfere. She was a fanatic—dedicated to her beliefs.”
“You were a soldier. And a Valkyrie.” Sensing Skyla’s discomfort, I changed the subject to something less disturbing.
“Tell me everything.” I fell back against the pillows. Getting out of bed felt like a Sisyphean task. “Where is Thorin?”
Skyla sighed and slumped beside me. “You’ve been out of commission for a day. We woke you to force you to drink a few times. You stumbled to the bathroom once.”
“Ah. I thought it was just part of some weird dream.”
Skyla chuckled. “You did talk about apples a lot.”
