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.
I nodded at my destination. “I saw it in my dream—that building.”
“You can’t go in there by yourself. You shouldn’t leave the group.”
I shook off her grip. “I’m not here for the golems.”
“You’re here for that damned wolf.”
“Yes, so why are you trying to stop me?”
“I’m not stopping you. I’m simply asking you not to go alone.”
Canting my head, I arched an eyebrow. “You coming with me?”
Skyla glanced at the Valkyries and at Embla marching forward, leading her group across what was left of the old tarmac. Thorin had noticed us. He stepped around the group and approached us. “Of course I am,” she said. “We kill the wolf, and all this ends, right?”
I nodded. “That’s the idea.”
“What’s wrong?” Against the backdrop of snow and a band of women in heavy-duty winter attire, Thorin looked absurd in nothing but jeans and a sweater. The wind whipped strands of his hair about his head and brought out pink highlights in his cheeks, but he never shivered or huddled against the cold. He stood straight and alert, eyes scanning the island while he awaited my answer.
I flicked a hand at the arched building. “Something about that place sticks out to me. I saw it in the ravens’ memories associated with the wolf.”
“You think Skoll’s in there?” he asked.
“I’m not sure about anything anymore. Nothing about this place adds up. But I’m still going to take a look.”
He nodded. “Grant me one favor, Sunshine.”
“What’s that?”
“Let me go first?”
I snorted and motioned for him to lead the way. The three of us turned for the little corrugated building as Embla and her crew carried on, presumably heading for the old air traffic tower. None of them looked back or questioned our stopping. Those golems wouldn’t stand a chance... if the Valkyries could find them.
We’ve been played, said the little devil on my shoulder. Admit it. The golems are gone.
Possibly, I replied, but by whom? Ravens, Valkyries, or someone else we don’t even suspect? The prospect of a double cross or betrayal had occurred to me, but that didn’t stop me from seeking proof. If Helen had left anything behind, any kind of clue, we needed to find it.
Thorin’s boot steps left vague impressions in the smattering of snow. I glanced around the path he made, searching for other imprints: wolf paws, flat golem feet, a woman’s snow boot, perhaps. If she had even come to Amchitka in the first place, surely Helen had worn something other than her Jimmy Choos.
