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By the time we reached the outbuilding’s entrance, I spotted no signs of company or habitation. Still, as Thorin reached for the handle, my heart rose in my throat like mercury in a hot thermometer.

“Locked,” he said when the handle refused to turn. He winked at me, grasped the handle close to where it connected to the door, and shoved his shoulder into the doorjamb. The handle fell free and clanked at his feet, and the door blew open, screaming on rusted hinges.

If anyone inside had overlooked our approach, he or she certainly hadn’t missed our entrance, but nothing jumped out from the gloom to attack. Only silence and dust motes greeted us. Grimy windows obscured the dull winter sunlight, so I paused and centered myself, concentrating on bringing out my light, separated from my heat. The long building stretched out like a tunnel to our left and right. A thick layer of dust coated the floor, and for the first time since we had arrived, I spotted evidence of the existence of a visitor other than the ones I’d brought with me.

My knees creaked as I squatted and drew my finger through the dust, circling a collection of paw prints nearly as large as my hand. “Wolf?” I peered up at my companions.

Thorin crouched beside me. “I’d say so.”

“Skoll?”

“That would be my guess.”

“Where is he now?” I asked, expecting no answer. “Did the ravens change their Thoughts and Memories to lie to me somehow?”

“It’s a possibility,” he said, “but there’s probably another answer.”

A distant cry cut through our conversation. A raised voice shouted something unintelligible. Then came more voices. Yelling. Gunshots.

“They’ve found something.” Skyla turned for the exit.

Thorin and I raced out behind her into the late-morning light. Across the frozen expanse of the tarmac, a roiling, boiling fracas spilled from the hangar bays attached to the air control tower. The Valkyries and a gray heap of twisting, grinding, fighting stone swirled onto the tarmac like a storm cloud full of bluster and rage.

My heart slammed against my sternum and set up a steady pounding beat. Despite its ineffectiveness against the stone men, my fire rose and licked at my skin, begging for release.

“They’re here,” Skyla said breathlessly. “Holy shit, they’re here.”

Without waiting for a word from us, she charged forward, obviously eager to join her sisters. Thorin and I hung back and studied the scene.

“Will you fight?” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye before returning his attention to the battle spreading before us. After a quick count, I estimated the Valkyries had uncovered an army of several dozen stone men. Seems like there should be more…

“I don’t know. If the wolf’s here, I don’t want to risk being distracted. But I think that shouldn’t stop you from joining in. You’d make rubble out of them in no time.”

“This can’t be her whole army,” he said.

“I was thinking the same thing. Can’t you throw a couple of thunderbolts at them?”

He shook his head. “Not without risking the others.”

“So... hand-to-hand combat?”

He allowed a quick smile. “Yes.”

“Don’t let me stop you. I’ll stay out of the way and keep my eyes peeled for Helen and Skoll.”

Thorin nodded and charged forward, Mjölnir already drawn and ready for action. Piles of stone littered the field in front of the hangars, and the Valkyries made more gravel as they went. I scanned the island again, turning in a full circle, searching for signs of the wolf. After finding nothing suspicious, I moved closer to the brawl and watched Thorin and Skyla operate in their prime environment, unhindered, full powered. They were marvelous, and a cold shard of jealousy lanced through me. Standing here, useless—it didn’t sit well with me. But what help was I if I tried to fight?

The Valkyries were making headway with few injuries. Occasionally, a woman fell or a lucky swipe from a golem knocked her down, but her sisters shielded her until she recovered and rejoined the fight. Thorin demolished the stone men in great swaths, and the whole thing seemed rather anticlimactic and close to ending when another wave of golems—fifty or sixty, perhaps—poured from the backside of the hanger and renewed the fight.

A cold shiver rolled over me as a new realization dawned. The Valkyries had thrown themselves into the first round of battle, holding nothing back. They had fallen for what now seemed like an obvious ploy. The women were all well trained and fit but ultimately human, and they tired fast. Tired fighters made mistakes. They ducked slower, swung sluggishly, stabbed with less force.

Embla, one of the oldest in the group, stumbled first. A rock-hard golem fist connected with her chest and sent her flying. She uttered a horrible grating scream like skidding tires. Then she hit the ground, crumpled, and fell still and silent. Naomi disengaged and rushed to Embla’s aid, but I ran in and shoved Naomi aside. “You fight. I’ll take care of her,” I said.

The effort of dragging Embla’s lifeless weight away from the center of action strained my muscles. She was small but solidly built and full of muscle. I settled her in a bed of mostly frozen grass, checked her pulse, and found it beating light and fast beneath the thin skin at her neck. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.

I made her as comfortable as possible before returning my attention to the fight. More women faltered, and the golems pressed their advantage. Thorin, however, had not wavered. He pushed on, tireless and resolute. Skyla stood at his side, firing steadily into the melee, pausing only to reload.

Embla groaned beside me and blinked. She stared unfocused into the blue sky. I leaned over, and her gaze fell on me. She blinked again.

“Did you dream of electric sheep?” I asked.

Her brow crinkled. “What? No.”

“Good. I guess that means you’re not an android.”

She grimaced. “What happened?”

“Rockslide got you, I think.”

She pressed a tentative hand to her chest and gritted her teeth. “I’ll say.”

She moved to sit up but grimaced and wheezed. I pushed her down. “Nope. You’re not doing anything else until you get checked out by a doctor. Don’t take chances with internal injuries.”

“But my sisters—”

“Have it under control.” I interrupted her protest. “Thorin and the others are taking them down by the dozens. The fight will be over in no time.”

Embla exhaled, relaxed, and closed her eyes. “Any other casualties?”

Are sens

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