“As far as I can tell.” He shrugged. “They all seem genuinely interested in defeating Helen.”
“Are they still coming here? Or did Embla change that plan?”
“They’re still on their way,” Hugh said. “They think Embla’s recouping from her injuries at the Aerie and that Skyla is staying with her. They don’t know she faked the whole thing.”
I heaved a sigh. “Thanks, Hugh. Will you let me know if anything changes?”
He crouched, preparing for his transformative leap. “I’ll keep my vows to you, Solina. Beyond that, I can only say I’ll do what’s in our best interest.” He jumped, shifted into his bird form, and streaked toward the horizon.
When Hugh disappeared, I turned to Grim. He studied my face, read the plea in my eyes, and his mouth puckered into a sour expression. With the sword, Grim would have enough power to take me—blip me across space and time and carry me to the Aerie. “Oh, no, Solina.” He shook his head “There’s no way in hell.”
“You made a vow, did you not?” I shoved a finger against his sternum. “You owe me.”
“I vowed not to kill you, to do anything in my ability to keep you alive. Taking you to face Embla and Skoll would be breaking that vow in the worst possible way.”
Fear burned in my heart, panic formed a sea of ice in my guts, and the opposing sensations had created a churning hurricane of desperation beneath my ribcage. “What if we could kill the wolf? Kill Embla and end this whole thing? You know we’ll never get a better chance.”
Grim’s harsh expression wavered. “And leave my brother here to fight on his own? Abandon the Allfather? Abandon your parents?” His lips twisted into an ugly, wry leer. “You of all people would do that? A minute ago, you were ordering me to go help Magni.”
He was right, damn it. I paused and considered his argument. Should I leave Thorin to fight mostly on his own or abandon Skyla and ignore this opportunity to destroy the wolf? Had I ever been stuck between a bigger rock and a tighter hard place? “Baldur’s holding it together now that Nina is helping him. Your brother, as we both know, needs no help. He’ll fight Helen’s army as long as it takes. There’s one key to winning this war, and it’s at the Aerie. You can be the one to end it.”
Light flickered in Grim’s eyes. Appealing to his ego had weakened his resolve, it seemed. He licked his lips, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “There’s also a very good chance Skoll could kill you, and we lose everything.”
I shook my head. “Never. I won’t let him.” I poked Grim’s chest again. “You won’t let him.” He wavered again, so I went in for the kill. “You want to be the hero in this story, Grim? Well, now’s your chance.”
He growled and lunged for me. Had he decided to kill me right then and there—go back on his word and save everyone a mountain of trouble? I reached for my fire as he latched onto my shoulders, jerked me against his side, and swore in my ear as it popped from pressure change, a sure sign we were entering the æther.
“Damn it, Solina,” he said as the whirlwind of interdimensional travel surrounded us. “You’d better hope you know what you’re doing.”
Grim and I dropped to the ground in the Aerie’s front yard. The old mission-style home perched on the cliffside above the Pacific Ocean, and a thick cloak of mist shrouded its blue-gray waters. A cold breeze stirred the air, intensifying the smell of salt spray and seaweed, but it was a paler, weaker sister of the storm we’d left at New Breidablick. Still, after Grim and I parted, I shivered and rubbed my arms. Our brief contact had given me insight into Grim’s thoughts and memories that chilled me more than any storm ever could. When Thorin said Grim had lost more than him at Ragnarok, he had downplayed the worst of it.
Images of bodies—broken and burned children, dead women, dead animals, crumbled and blackened and incinerated things—had filled my head. Breathless and close to retching, I shoved the visions away and stiffened my spine. Grim kept his back to me as he surveyed the landscape, searching for Embla or Skyla, but only the eerie cry of seagulls welcomed us.
If I was immortal, if the hurt could go on forever... It was what I had said to Val, understanding that an eternity of pain could drive one to extremes. If I could find empathy for Val, could I do the same for Grim, even though he had tried to kill me not so long ago? Time will tell. His actions today will go a long way toward redeeming him. Or not.
I fingered the gold chain around my neck—Mjölnir’s lanyard. With it, Thorin could track me anywhere. Grim and I had left Lake Tahoe without explaining our departure. Thorin would find me if I didn’t return to New Breidablick soon, and he would surely be pissed when he did. I’d take his wrath though. It was an acceptable price for saving Skyla. I’ll take Thorin’s anger because he has to be alive to be pissed off at me. I’ll take anything from him, so long as he’s alive and well when this is over.
“I don’t like this.” I observed the stillness and silence.
Grim huffed. “Neither do I.”
We could separate and cover more ground, but anyone who had ever seen a thriller or a horror movie knew splitting up meant certain death. Despite my aversion for him and the horrible things inside his head, I grabbed Grim’s shirt sleeve, careful not to touch his skin. “No matter what, we stick together.”
He thinned his lips, and his nostrils flared. “Obviously.”
I started forward, and he fell into step beside me, heading for the Aerie’s front door. I jiggled the handle, and the door opened, swinging on silent hinges. No creepy horror house screech—the Valkyries kept their home well maintained. Our footsteps echoed through the foyer as we crept inside. The interior smelled musty, as if no one had opened a door or window in a while, but a lingering undercurrent of smoke perfumed the air. The ghost of the Aerie’s fire would haunt the house for a long time.
“I guess you and Tori were right,” I said as we tiptoed through the dim interior. A watery, late-afternoon sun provided enough light for us to make our way, and we kept our heads on a swivel as we eased into the kitchen.
“Right about what?”
“There being a traitor within the Valkyries.”
“Of course I was right.”
“But you didn’t know it was Embla?”
He shook his head. “I thought it was all of them.”
A chill swirled through my gut. “I hope you’re wrong.”
He stopped so suddenly I nearly face-planted into his back. Wearing a grimace, he peered down at me. “If the bird was telling the truth, we only have Embla to worry about.” He turned around and started forward again toward the rear of the house. “One woman is no threat to me.”
“You think I’m not a threat?” I nearly growled.
Wisely, Grim refrained from answering.
“Embla is Baldur and Nina’s daughter,” I said. “She’s a direct descendent. Doesn’t that make her as much Aesir as you or your brother?”
We wandered into the Valkyries’ vacant living room and paused. “Embla has never trodden on Asgardian soil, breathed its air, ingested its nutrients, bathed in its sunlight.” Grim tossed me a smug smile as he said the word sunlight. “She’s too much of this world. She’s too human.”
His statement stirred an uneasy feeling in me. I had walked through Asgard, had breathed its air, had eaten Idun’s apples, and, arguably, was the physical embodiment of Asgard’s sun. Still haven’t figured out how that one works yet...
What did that mean for me? Had I changed somehow—more than I already had?
“Not so human if she’s working runes to keep Hugin and Munin out of her head.”
