“I’m telling you what happened,” Maeve said. “If you choose to proceed, I’ll make what you’re asking for.”

  I wasn’t…

  I couldn’t be…

  It was a coincidence. Kirby didn’t believe in those, but the world was chaotic. Sometimes things just happened. Every once in a while—more often than most liked to admit—things just fell in line in a fucked-up way. “I need to go.” As in, somewhere that I could process this and-or freak out.

  “I understand.” Maeve rose as I did. She held up two fingers and a piece of paper appeared between them. “This is the list of the information I’ve given Vidar over the centuries.” She pulled me into an awkward hug. “Stay safe. I’d love to meet your children.”

  My mind had moved on from this, and was stuck on in a loop of I was not born just to heal Bragi. I nodded though, and when I took the list from her, I was at the edge of her territory instead of in her house.

  This wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. I was more than⁠—

  I was a fucking Valkyrie. I’d saved people. I had a life and a family and…

  I was more than a creature created for wish fulfillment.

  The list from Maeve got tucked away in a safe space, and I sent two identical text messages—one to Dahlia and one to Bragi.

  I need to talk to you.

  The former, because she would keep me from spiraling and the latter…

  Would Bragi assure me it wasn’t true? Tell me he didn’t know? Reinforce that I had saved him, and ask if that was really such a bad thing?

  Blinking myself back to NEON, I walked in through the back door. Dahlia was waiting near the staircase that went to the upstairs apartment. She wore a silky robe, which meant she’d finished dancing, but hadn’t changed into normal clothes yet. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I can’t even…” I let out a heavy sigh when the words didn’t come.

  She wrapped an arm around me and steered me upstairs. “Frey and Fen are working, so we’ll have privacy. I’ll make sure we have privacy.” She guided me into their apartment and sat me on the couch. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  I was too lost in the revelation to make a joke about where would I go?

  Dahlia was back a moment later, shoving a pint of ice cream and a spoon into my hand. “Now. Eat at least two bites, and then talk.”

  “Yes ma’am.” I almost smiled at the concern.

  With a medicinal dose of brownie-batter cherry-chunk in me, I repeated what Maeve told me.

  Her expression stayed sympathetic, but she couldn’t hide the tainted disbelief that spilled from her.

  “This was a bad idea. I’m not ready to talk about this.” I stood.

  Dahlia grabbed my wrist and pulled me on the couch again. “Sit down. Shut your mouth. Admit that my initial reaction is reasonable and give me a moment to process.”

  I scowled at her, but obeyed. “How am I going to tell Nico?” Of all the things I could be worried about…

  “First you figure out how you feel about it. The rest will wait.” Dahlia was already becoming okay with the news—more so than I was—and wanting to reassure me.

  “If I was born because Bragi wished to be healed, am I anything more than a doll?” I clamped my mouth shut. Time to stop feeling, and just let her talk, like I promised.

  “You are so much more.” Sincerity and belief spilled out with Dahlia’s reply. “Be analytical about this for a moment. Life is never as simple as a story makes it sound, and when it comes to prophecy and fate… You’ve seen the results of taking those at face value.”

  “But—”

  “Not done yet. Eat more ice cream.” Dahlia shoved my spoon into the pint and pushed the container toward me. “We’ve both seen this firsthand so many times. We’ve both lived it over and over. When I have a vision, it’s not straightforward. I’m the one seeing it, and I can still misinterpret it. I was destined to become a dragon. To form this bond with Frey and Fen. Do I think that fate created me solely for that purpose? No. I refuse to believe that about me or you or Kirby or Brit or anyone.”

  “What do you believe then?” I asked through a mouth full of ice cream.

  She took the spoon from me and took a bite for herself, before returning the utensil. “The one thing they taught us at TOM that I think was real is when they called us potentials. Everyone has potential, ours was to become something magical. Not everyone there realized it. Not everyone they tracked became more.

  “My visions aren’t fixed. The outcomes aren’t set in stone. I’ve proven that. I exist because I exist, and maybe the universe nudges me one way or another, but I choose whether or not to follow that path.”

  “In other words, I would’ve existed regardless, and I just happened to wind up in Bragi’s way.” It sounded too simple, like I was missing something or brushing off the truth.

  Dahlia nodded. “Most likely. It’s also likely that you weren’t the only one who could’ve done it. I’m not saying you’re not special—you’re one of the most important people in the universe, in my opinion—but Bragi wanted to go back to himself. He made that wish. He was looking for a way to make it happen.”

  There was a deeper meaning in that, but I couldn’t hold onto the thought.

  “Yes, if a butterfly flaps its wings on the other side of the world, maybe a hurricane happens in Florida,” Dahlia said. “A hurricane happens in Florida regardless. On the other hand, if you order a mocha tomorrow morning instead of a caramel latte, you don’t change the likelihood of a coup happening in Texas.”

  “I’m not sure the analogy works.” I was beginning to wrap my brain around it though.

  Dahlia took another spoonful of my ice cream, and chewed thoughtfully. She was trying to organize her thoughts to change my mind.

  I’d have to stop being stubborn for that to happen.

  Fuck.

  “We always have a choice,” Dahlia said. “Always. We don’t live our lives because the prophecies tell us to, and we don’t ignore things we want, just to spite fate. You are who you are because you choose to be that person. That’s why you’ve made an impact on so many lives, and that’s why Bragi loves you.”

  I swore my heart stopped beating at the word love. When did she land on his side?

  But she wasn’t. She was stating a fact. A series of observations…

  Dahlia took the ice cream from me, set it on the coffee table, and gripped my fingers, drawing my attention. “If fate chooses to take advantage of who you are, if some stupid fucking magic stream abuses the opportunity, that doesn’t make you any less you. It doesn’t reduce your importance to yourself or any of us. You are who you are because you choose to be,” she repeated.

  “When did you get so smart?”

  Dahlia pressed her forehead to mine. “I stopped trying to fight my potential. It’s mine, gods damn it, and I’m the one who gets to own the Hel out of it.”

  I loved everything about what she was saying.

  I just needed to convince myself to believe it.

  TWELVE

  BRAGI

  Over the centuries, I’d written dozens of complex tales. Interwoven narratives and sublimely subtle plot points.

  None of them held a candle to the convoluted mess that Vidar seemed to have constructed. He wanted certain people dead. He wanted them alive. He’d stolen a bracelet from a witch. A fucking charm.

  It was easy to assume all the power grabs over the centuries had poisoned his mind, and this was nothing more than lunacy. I was afraid the truth was far more dangerous. As long as I’d known the god, he’d been a master of making the simple look complex.

  People made assumptions based on their life and experiences. I’d done the same when it came to Vidar. Assumed that the truth was the truth when he told me things and showed no sign of lying.

  And right now, I felt like the entire picture had been laid out before us, but we couldn’t see the forest for the trees.

  I was trying to break things down. For example, why take the other Valkyrie’s family jewelry?

  As I strolled through the streets of Detroit, the question nagged me.

  Vidar liked working with existing gifts. They were easy to imbue with potent magic.

  It’s been passed down from mother to daughter for generations.

  I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as Magnus’s words clicked. A protective talisman owned by a family of witches, where it was gifted again and again? That charm could be more potent than a dragon’s claw. Particularly in a loving family.

  “Are you all right?” A woman next to me asked.

  Instinct made me brace myself for the concern—and possibly disdain—coming off her as she brushed my arm. Of course, there was nothing.

  I gave her a warm smile. “I’m fine. Simply distracted. Thank you.” I started walking again.

  There was a Take It & Leave convenience store a few blocks from my hotel, and that was my destination.

  Most of the TOM soldiers, especially those who were smart enough to leave, assumed that we—the gods—impacted their lives, but they made no difference in ours.

  They’d all been raised on a strict nutritional regimen. Balanced proteins. Fibers. Calorie counts. We were creating physical specimens after all.

  One of the side effects was that almost every one of them saw sweets as a forbidden sin. Sure, sex was a weapon. A tool. They could fuck whoever they wanted.

  But prepackaged chocolate cupcakes?

  Those were the ultimate indulgence.

  For me, knowing the hearts of everyone around me for so long, I’d learned to appreciate the same. Some emotions were easier to spread than others—obsession and hate sat near the top of the list. At this moment, I hated that I was obsessed with the idea of visiting the nearest gas station for plastic-wrapped cakes.

  As I stepped through the front doors, my mind continued to return to the charm from Magnus’s Valkyrie sister. It was tickling something in my mind that flitted away whenever I reached for it. I needed the mental equivalent of watching it out of the corner of my eye.

  It was easy to find what I was looking for, and I grabbed a package of the local favorite.

  If I’d acquired this preference while I was with Nico, would he insist on making it for me instead? The idea warmed me, and made me miss both of them—Magnus and Nico—more than I cared for.

  As I took my prize to the cashier, the small screen behind the register caught my attention. It was some sort of internet news, from what I could see.

  I let the young man scan my purchase, and handed him money.

  “…reactions are mixed. Some are sympathetic and want to know why governments are hiding…"

  I blocked out the sound from the video. Same shit, different century.

  “It’s wild, right?” The man behind the counter jerked his head at the screen. “Do you think it’s real?”

  A great many things were real that mortals couldn’t wrap their brains around, but I didn’t mind a little conversation. “What is it?”

  “Ah, man, you haven’t heard? So this lady—she’s like a diplomat’s wife or something—she and her husband are in a bakery in Portugal. She walks into what she thinks is the bathroom. Next thing he knows, she’s calling him from Tibet.”

  “Are you serious?” I stared closer at the screen. At the images flashing by, of two locations I was familiar with, because both sat on the intersections of leylines.

  “I mean, that’s what they’re saying. The governments are going to try to cover it up, but I think it’s real.”

  I would think it was a coincidence—someone got careless with a door that led from one place to another—except that both of those places… Vidar had…

  Had what?

  “It is real,” I said.

  The cashier held up his hand for a high-five. “Yeah. Another believer. Right on.”

  I slapped his palm, still staring at the screen. This was important, and I couldn’t figure out—couldn’t remember—why.

  I needed to go. “Keep the change.” I walked out of the store, heading toward my hotel.

  “You forgot your cupcake.” The cashier’s voice faded as the door swung shut between us.

  I’d get another one. There was something about Skuld. She had…

  What?

  A bracelet.

  No, that was what I was thinking about before. But it was something with power. Why couldn’t I remember?

  There was a relic. Skuld used it to bolster something in the FU base in Barbados. I remembered that without an issue, but what was the relic for before that?

  By itself, it’s just a piece to reinforce the wards.

  By itself? As opposed to…?

  It didn’t matter how hard I pushed for the memory, I couldn’t find anything.

  Vidar had someone block a portion of my memories from me. Whatever that relic was originally for, he’d hidden it away. I suspected I could remember the FU information because it wasn’t directly associated with whatever he wanted me to forget.

  Was the piece still there in Barbados? The base had been abandoned when Skuld was destroyed, but did that stay behind?

  I couldn’t grasp why this was important, but the fact that Vidar had specifically hidden my memories associated with it told me that it was.

  I needed to get to the former base in Barbados.

  Even if my passport weren’t expired, flying would take too long.

  My phone buzzed, and it took me a moment to climb from the rambling thoughts before I recognized the sound. I grabbed the device and stared at Magnus’s text message. I imagined I could hear her voice saying those same words. I need to talk to you.

  An ache spread through my chest. I needed the same—to talk to her. To see her. To see Nico.

  I needed this answer first. In my current state, she was safer with Dahlia than me. Additionally, if I called Magnus, I would tell her what I found, and then she’d want to go with me.

  In theory I was walking into an abandoned training facility, but I couldn’t risk her or him. Answering her would need to wait.

  How could I get to Barbados now?

  Ronan.

  Like Maeve, he was an elf. A fae cast out for falling in love with a human, though his sin was more recent.

  In retaliation for his banishment, he helped others escape—fae, immortals, or anyone threatened by magic. He relocated them to places where they would be safe, and helped them start new lives.

  I set Magnus’s message aside, and called Ronan. After the appropriate greetings and obligatory pleasantries, I made my request. A door—similar to the one in the news story—that would take me to Barbados.

  Fortunately for me, there was one not too far from Anubis’s shop. It wasn’t a coincidence. Apparently one of Anubis’s customers worked for Ronan.

  I was surprised and grateful he was willing to help me now, and I changed direction to head for the address he gave me.

  Years ago, twenty-five or more, I’d done a favor for Ronan. His daughter, Mia, was struggling with nightmares like so many young children did. Hers were founded in genetic memories, though. As she described them, they were monsters from a realm she would probably never see.

  Mia was Ronan’s life and joy. He would do anything for her, and he’d talked to so many people about how to stop her dreams. When he called me, he was desperate. I could have anything, he said.

  I’d asked for a favor, to be called in at a later time. Really, I was interested in helping the girl.

  I’d talked to her enough to get a sense for what scared her about the dreams. Feelings she couldn’t put into words, but that radiated from her. She didn’t have any of her father’s power, she was completely human like her mother, so there was no telling how the images had moved into her mind, but I was there to stop them, regardless.

  I introduced her to comic books.

  It was true, I teased Magnus about her poor taste in films, but stories like the ones she loved, the ones in comics, kept faith alive—the belief in both something greater than ourselves and in survival. Both important things to all creatures.

  Though I didn’t read the comics myself, I appreciated the stories for what they were. I’d given Mia a stack of X-men comics and told her that any time she encountered monsters, either in real life or in her dreams, she should pick a hero to call on.

  She liked Jean Grey. She’s pretty, Mia said.

  I was fond of a phoenix myself, so I didn’t argue.

  The single favor Ronan owed me was the reason I hadn’t called him for transportation before now. I’d been banking this for a while, and once I cashed it in, it was gone.

  But if there was ever a time to use it, it was now, to get to a difficult to reach place, to hopefully find a clue, to help us destroy an impossible to destroy god.

  Ronan met me at the door he’d indicated. “Why aren’t you able to do this yourself?” he asked.

  “Because I can’t.” I’d rather not offer details.

  Ronan simply nodded. I assumed the less he knew, the less he had to hide if asked.

  “There’s an existing door in the facility,” I explained. Vidar had gifted different people different ways to travel. While some could blink from one place to another, others had to walk through doors, so he kept one on site.

  In the past it would’ve been guarded, but it would be clear today.

  We stepped into a door in Detroit, and out of one in an underground facility in the middle of the ocean. It should be impossible for this building to exist in this place, but Skuld—Lance at the time—used magics to make it work. I wasn’t an engineer, and couldn’t explain the mechanics, I simply knew we were here.

  “I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” I said. “If you’re threatened, if there’s trouble, if I don’t return, leave.”

  Ronan nodded.

  I followed the halls toward the center of the building. The hallways were mostly dark, but not as much as I expected. Red emergency LEDs were illuminated in rows along the floor. Why were these still on?

  The question cranked my tension and put my every sense on high alert.

  This location had been used to train soldiers for the Followers of Urd, which Skuld had founded using her sister’s name, as a means of misdirection when it came to the prophecies. Through FU, Skuld had convinced many gods, like those Kirby loved, that this was the way to save people and allow the prophecies to do what they would.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23