Kalani rolled her dice, moved her doggie figurine, and landed on my Oriental Avenue property. She counted out the rent money as she answered. “Primarily, our job was to attend to human battles. Odin tasked us to select the bravest and most skilled warriors to fill his halls in Valhalla. We were like your idea of angels of death.”
Skyla snorted. “But here’s the kicker. They chose who would die in battle, decided which army would be victorious, and basically allowed the best ones to be killed. The soldiers were taken to these paradisiacal halls in the lands of the gods, which sounds like a great reward, only Odin was storing them for his use in Ragnarok, to fight on his behalf.”
“But that is a warrior’s passion,” Inyoni said. “They live, die, and are reincarnated by the sword. It was an honor to be chosen for Odin’s army, and they were treated like kings.”
“So, do you do that now?” I asked. The Monopoly game had lost all interest for me. “Do you decide if battles are lost or won?”
“We don’t because no one asks it of us. If an Aesir were to command it and reinstate our full powers, then yes, we would return to our old ways.”
“But that hardly seems fair,” I said. “Wouldn’t taking the best soldiers leave one side more vulnerable to defeat?”
“We come from all nations. We have no allegiance to earthly governments or political parties,” Kalani said, putting on a patient teacher face. “We pledge our allegiance to the Aesir. We are impartial to human factions.”
“But what about good versus evil?”
Inyoni snorted, but Kalani silenced her with a look. “It’s all a matter of perspective, isn’t it? Both sides think they’re good. They think their god is giving them support. They all think the enemy is evil. Who is right?”
“Couldn’t you say the same about good and evil for the gods?” I asked. “I bet Helen would say her cause is just.”
Kalani shook her head. “When speaking of gods, good and evil is more elemental. It isn’t Shiite versus Sunni, democracy versus theocracy—it’s a hurricane versus a stalk of wheat. Do you know which the humans are in this analogy?”
Kalani had a valid argument, I could admit that, but that fact settled into my gut like spoiled meat. In a way, the Valkyries and I were on the same team, but in my mind I was still the person I had been a month ago, before I knew these truths. That Solina had a rigid sense of right and wrong, good and evil. This new realm blurred those lines, and adapting to that took time.
I stood, gathered dirty dishes, and dumped them into a sink full of suds I made from the leftover boiling water we had used to reconstitute our dinner. The other women went on playing Monopoly, but a solemn air had settled over the room. Out here on the lake’s edge, with no traffic noise, no electronics, no hum of appliances, the quiet was substantial, almost sentient. So, when a flock of birds sent up a cacophony of screeches and wing flapping, the racket ripped through the atmosphere like a bomb, so startling that all four of us flinched.
I looked to Skyla; she cut her eyes to the front windows facing the dark lake. The Valkyries jumped to their feet, drawing weapons as if from thin air. Inyoni clutched a sword – a long, silver, old-fashioned thing – and Kalani held a wide, curved knife in each hand.
“What’s happening?” I asked, clutching the stem of an acrylic wine glass as if it, too, were a weapon. I didn’t understand the Valkyries’ sudden defensiveness.
“Birds,” Inyoni said.
“Yes,” I said. “And we are excited about that why?”
“Birds are portentous of many things,” Kalani answered.
“Death,” Inyoni said.
“The arrival of a deity,” Kalani said.
“The sighting of a tasty horde of gnats,” I said. “The proximity of a predator. A good, stiff breeze or the onset of a storm.” A sharp clap of thunder underscored my sentiment. A moment later, the metallic rattle of rain on the tin roof dampened the flame of everyone’s anxiety. We all audibly exhaled.
“Are y’all going to sleep with those under your pillows?” I asked, motioning to their weapons.
Aghast, Kalani said, “Of course. You would too if you didn’t have the ability to boil blood with your bare hands.”
“But why swords? Inyoni, you said your hands were all you needed.”
Inyoni nodded. “For regular human predators. Helen and her kind are not regular.”
“What does that mean?” Skyla asked.
“It means that mundane weapons have no effect on them,” Kalani said. “Not in the long run. Oh, they feel pain, and bullets and fists can weaken them temporarily, but their immortality is obstinate.”
Skyla looked at me. “That would explain why the wolf wasn’t bothered by my bullet.”
“If bullets don’t stop them, then what good are a couple of blades?” I asked.
Inyoni stepped closer and held out the flat of her sword. She ran her finger over the surface, and only then did I notice the carvings in the metal. I had seen something similar engraved on the bracelets on Thorin’s wrists—letters or figures, but from an unfamiliar alphabet. “Runes,” Inyoni said. “Words of magic bestowed on the Valkyries by Odin. They were one of the greatest gifts he gave us. The only trick we have for defeating immortality.”
I frowned and leaned forward to get a closer look at the markings. “You could kill Thorin and Val with this?”
Inyoni shook her head. “These might do more damage than a normal, human weapon, but these runes are particularly designed for the Jotunn and the creatures from their realm. Odin bestowed the Aesir with additional layers of protection. Secret runes that even we are not allowed to know. The Aesir are nearly indestructible.”
“Nearly, but not completely,” I said. “The spear, Gungnir, would do the trick. Tori said so.”
“Gungnir, Mjölnir…” Kalani narrowed her eyes and nodded at me. “Maybe even Sol’s fire.”
I shivered as if swallowing a shot of tequila and changed the subject. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”
“I’m taking the first half of night watch, and then Inyoni,” Kalani said as she strapped her knives into sheaths at her waist. She shrugged into a rain jacket but left it open for easier access to her weapons. “You get some rest. You’ll be back on watch in the morning.”
“You’re going outside, in the dark and the rain?”
Kalani shook her head. “I’m just going out to the porch. I want to be able to keep my ears and eyes open to what’s going on outside.”
“I’d say good luck,” I said. “But when you’ve got weapons like that, luck seems a little superfluous.”
Kalani patted my shoulder and said, “Good luck is never superfluous.” Then she went outside to greet the rain. I turned toward the living room and found Inyoni had traded her sword for a box containing the contents of another board game. “Anyone want to bet it was Colonel Mustard in the library with the lead pipe?”
