“Why waste any more time?” He settled a severe stare on me. “How’s your fire?”
I turned away under the pretense of going to pour another cup of coffee, but in truth, I was hiding the furious blush burning in my cheeks. His question sent my thoughts back to last night, when I had nearly consumed him in flames. “Um. Fine, I guess. I haven’t really tested myself. I’ve been trying to, uh, conserve energy.”
Skyla snorted, coughed, and cleared her throat. “Is that right?”
I shot her a dirty look, but it only made her laugh.
“Show me,” Thorin said. “I know I can’t stop you or lock you up or any of those things I’d love to do that might keep you safe, but do me a favor. Please. Before we go to that island and confront the wolf, Helen, and her army, show me you can defend yourself.”
I set my coffee on the counter and glanced around the kitchen. Yeah, way too flammable and cramped. “Outside?” I met Thorin’s gaze.
He jerked his chin, a quick nod motioning me to lead the way. I left off my parka and shrugged out of my long sweater. In T-shirt and jeans, I stepped out into a cold, dry, and clear Alaska morning.
“How long until sunrise?” I asked.
Thorin stopped behind me, close enough to share his body heat. “Two hours, at least.”
“How do the locals stand it? All this darkness?”
“Tanning beds.”
I spun around and gaped at him. “Seriously?”
“For the UV rays. A little bit every now and then to keep away the winter blues.”
I cracked a sardonic grin. “Do you ever use a tanning bed?”
“Why would I?” He stroked my arm. “I have my own personal sunshine.”
I rolled my eyes, although his comment warmed me as much as his proximity. After flexing my neck a few times and swinging my arms to encourage blood circulation, I stretched my fingers and held my palms open at my sides, elbows bent. Fire pooled into my palms. “How much is enough to convince you? I can’t afford to sacrifice my wardrobe to satisfy your concerns.”
“Just make it as big as you can.”
I concentrated until the fire in my palms rose into flaming pillars. A blaze wreathed my head and neck. The rune inside me, the source of my power, glowed hot and sure. “Are you satisfied?”
Thorin had backed several paces away, and the look on his face was... awe? My fire reflected in his dark eyes and lit the high spots on his face, the regal nose, the broad forehead, the prominent cheekbones. “Is it enough?”
“To kill a wolf? I think so.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You think?”
“You don’t trust my judgment? Think I’m so eager to get the wolf, I might be willing to take risks?”
He exhaled, and his shoulders slumped. “Gods, I hope not.”
“I don’t want to die, Thorin. Isn’t that reassurance enough?”
He jammed his hands in his pockets and kicked a loose pebble at his feet. A muscle worked in his jaw. “Hardly.”
I laid a hand on his forearm, and he stilled. “We’ll get through it. Together. The Valkyries have the golems. You and I can take the wolf.”
His dark eyes flickered up to meet mine. His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Let’s get going.”
Aboard a Cessna with floats instead of wheels, Thorin, Skyla, Embla, four other Valkyries, and I soared over the glaucous waters of Kvichak Bay and then the deeper Prussian blue of Bristol Bay. The rest of the Valkyries followed behind in a seaplane similar to ours. The horizon shone clear and unobstructed from this vantage point, and while the sky remained locked in darkness, a thin band of yellow burned along the line separating sky from sea.
Above hung the moon, and below it, the sun, both entities sharing the same sky. I took it as a fortuitous symbol of a brother and sister briefly united. I had a feeling I would be leaning heavily on my brother. I needed his courage, bravery, and impetuousness in order to survive whatever happened next. Timidity and fear never defeated a mythological wolf or saved the world.
Skyla, sitting beside me, clenched my hand. I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of flying.”
Her jaw muscle worked, and she shot me a dirty look.
I bit back a grin. “And here, all this time, I thought your greatest fear was being forced to go shopping.”
“I’m not afraid of it,” she said through gritted teeth. “I just don’t care for it, especially when we’re flying over the ocean in something not much bigger than a sardine can.”
As if responding to her insult, the plane shimmied and bobbed. Skyla squeaked. When the plane recovered its smooth course, I chuckled under my breath. “This is nothing compared to interdimensional travel. Ask Baldur to take you for a spin sometime. Then you’ll really know about scary rides.”
Skyla and I fell silent, and the drone of the airplane engine rumbled in my ears. Thorin, in the copilot’s seat, glanced back at me. I gave him a thumbs up and smiled. He accepted my reassurance and turned frontward again, but the stiff set of his shoulders and his fist, clenching and unclenching on the armrest, spoke volumes about his state of mind.
On his own, he might welcome the fight, look forward to it, even. But he wasn’t on his own—he had me and fifteen Valkyries to consider. The Valkyries probably concerned him least of all. We had seen them fight, knew what they could do. He had seen me fight, too, but I understood that wasn’t enough.
He was the God of Thunder, armed with an infallible weapon and superior might. His superiority hadn’t stopped me from invading his fight with Rolf and the golems in the field outside Portland. It hadn’t stopped me from flying with the ravens to intervene on his behalf with Val in the cave. It hadn’t stopped me worrying, wondering if this was the one conflict that might finally do him in. He was immortal, and I believed in him, and yet I feared for him.
I could only assume he felt the same about me. Probably worse. And yet here I was, at his side, not locked in a cage as he might have preferred. He could have chained me up and accepted my hatred as a consequence. It’s what most anyone else would have done, if they didn’t just kill me outright. I would have understood if Thorin had taken that approach with me. I would have hated him, but I would have understood. Thorin wanted something other than my hate, and he was willing to risk a lot to get it.
My ears popped, and I woke from my reverie. The plane had started its descent. A chain of islands rose before us, dark specks afloat on sparkling waters. The plane banked and lowered again, and we lined up perpendicular to a long, slim island, dusted in snow.
As we approached, the snow gave way, revealing the outline of an empty landing strip. Streaks, tire tracks, and skid marks marred the white surface, indicating recent visitors. A few rattletrap buildings hunched against the wind and snow, one with what looked like an air traffic control tower appended to its roof. On another low structure, a sharp, slim erection jutted from a gable. A steeple?
Our plane shimmied again, and the engines revved. Skyla squeezed my knuckles again, and I gritted my teeth as the plane’s tail end sank, plunging us toward the ocean uncomfortably fast. We touched down minutes later, bobbing off the water like a skipping stone before settling down for good. The pilot motored to the dock and idled the engines as Thorin leapt out and secured the plane long enough for Skyla, the remaining Valkyries, and me to disembark. The other seaplane touched down as we exited, and a mixture of worried and excited faces stared from the passenger windows.
Seven of us hunkered together while Thorin leaned into the plane’s doorway. After a brief conversation, the pilot nodded. Thorin waved and untied the mooring line. The seaplane pivoted, the engines revved, and he shot off across the blue, rising into the sky as gracefully as the Arctic terns that had scattered upon our arrival, crying in high, buzzing chirps and clacks.
After the other plane docked and disgorged its contents—a grim bunch of green-around-the-gills warrior women—Thorin repeated whatever message he had given to our pilot, and the second plane took off, leaving us stranded. I understood why he had done it though: no jeopardizing the mundane humans. No exposing our world to them either. It was safer for everyone that way.
Our group gathered, Thorin and Embla in the lead, Skyla and I at their heels, over a dozen Valkyries behind us. Thorin raised his voice over the birdcalls and wind. “Where do we start, Sunshine?”
I shrugged and tossed my hands out at my sides. “At the airfield, I guess. I only got an image of them marching on whatever’s left of the landing strip. By the looks of it, someone has been here, but it seems awfully quiet.”
“There are several buildings situated around the perimeter of the airstrip.” Embla pointed at the structure that appeared to have an air control tower affixed to the roof. “We’ll start there.”
No one disagreed, so we all started forward, footsteps muffled in a thin layer of snow. “She’ll have heard the planes,” I said to Skyla. “She has to know we’re coming.”
“Does it matter?” Skyla shrugged. “We came for a fight. Let her bring it to us.”
A disappointing silence enveloped us as we neared the center of the old Amchitka encampment. Had Helen hidden her army among the few standing structures remaining in this abandoned place? Several metal buildings stooped in the snow like weathered old men. To my left, a distinctive, arched-roof structure squatted in silent dereliction. The fine hairs on my neck rose to attention. I started toward it, but Skyla grabbed my arm and yanked. “Where are you going?” she asked.
