I shivered in the growing darkness as Amara and I climbed the three stone steps up to the dark archway so black it could have been made of solid shadow. Adorned with ancient runes and symbols that no longer held meaning, this remnant of the bridge gave off some strong go away vibes.
The air was so cold it seemed to freeze in my lungs but it would only grow colder once we stepped through that arch and into the void. Cold and dark, save for the dim blue light of the pathway. I still had nightmares about the first time I crossed the bridge as a scared kid. Those were the two most frightening days of my life and I was about to do it all over again.
“It's okay, your Majesty.” Fiske hovered right behind me. “We’ll get you there safely. It won't be so bad together.” He reached for my hand, but I stepped away, putting some distance between myself and the boy I was probably still betrothed to. Three years hadn’t changed the way I felt about that situation. Though I was impressed that Fiske had braved the bridge to deliver a message from Sylvi. Maybe he wasn’t the sniveling, cowardly sycophant I remembered. Maybe he’d grown into a man in my absence.
I still wasn’t going to marry him.
I sighed, my breath coming out in a thick white cloud as my nose hairs shriveled in the Arctic air. Three years hadn’t changed anything. I might be returning to a world in turmoil—but that world still needed me to be the Queen Heir. Like it or not, the safety and future of the Nine Realms rested on my inadequate shoulders. I would be expected to pick up right where I left off with my betrothal and First Ascension duties. I would have to learn to accept that because my people mattered more than my own happiness. They always had, but I couldn’t think about Fiske, marriage, or the mess I’d made of everything. I would figure those out later.
I moved up to the top step, putting myself between Vendela and Druan, leaving Fiske to navigate the horrors of the bridge with the dragon at his side. Fiske was a decent guy. He just wasn't my guy. And he never would be.
“This is it,” Druan announced unnecessarily. He cast a glance at me. “Once we take the next step, there’s no turning back.” This archway only went one way, and that was forward.
Vendela was the first one to disappear into the darkness. One moment she was there and then the black shadows swallowed her whole.
“Let’s do this.” I squared my shoulders and followed the Berserker woman, Druan right on my heels.
Icy darkness engulfed me in a silent tomb from one moment to the next. There was no turning back now; the only way out was through the other side. The void quickly closed in on us as the others followed. Moving silently in single file, I could no longer make out Vendela’s form just in front of me, though I could sense she was there. Fiske’s muffled gasps sounded tinny and distant behind Druan, whose presence I could feel at my back. The dragon was silent as ever, but I could feel the wispy touches of her heat just behind Druan.
The frigid air seized in my lungs and I struggled to exhale as the pathway began to glow in a familiar, dim blue light. I stretched my hands out to either side, just short of touching the bridge. That wasn’t something I was prepared to do unless I had to. The bridge didn’t like to be touched. The stone beneath my feet cast an iridescent blue glow, my only guide for the next day and night.
Fiske cried out behind us, but fell silent with a murmur of distress. “Is he okay?” My voice took on a curt tone. With Druan right behind me, the others faded into the darkness, leaving me to travel with this man alone. The man who seemed to truly despise me.
“Why does the boy irritate you?” In the heavy atmosphere of the void, Druan’s lilting voice sounded like an intimate whisper in my ear.
“He doesn’t irritate me.” I carefully placed my footsteps, dividing my focus between the slick walls closing in on me and what little of the pathway I could see before me. It was like walking a tightrope without a net, but rather than falling to my death, it was the taint of the shadows in this world I had to contend with. I could feel them swirling all around me, whispering and waiting for me to make a mistake so they could pounce.
“I can practically hear your eyes rolling in your head every time he speaks. Indulge me. We have nothing better to do with our time here.” Druan followed closely behind me, his chest nearly pressing against my back. “What was it about him specifically that sent you running to another world to escape your betrothal ceremony?”
“It was never about Fiske as a person. He’s a fine young man. A tribute to his training.”
“But you have this ‘young man’ who was bred like a prized piece of horseflesh, branded, trained, and chosen just for you. What Valkyrie woman wouldn’t want such a man at her beck and call?”
I wished there was enough light so he could see the glare I threw in his direction. “It wasn’t what I wanted.” I could say a great deal more on the matter, but I didn’t owe this man an explanation.
“Just toss him back when you get home. From what I hear there’s a whole pool of others just like him. All raised to anticipate your every need. Pick the one who suits you most.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You believe I abandoned my family and friends, my people and my duty, all because I didn’t like the boy the queen’s council chose for me? If you must know, I ran because I didn’t want to be queen. I ran because I knew in my heart I wasn’t the right person to lead my people and the First Ascension Ceremony—that happened to include my betrothal—was just the first step toward a duty I wholly believe is not rightfully mine.”
Druan’s only response was a grunt.
We walked on in the deafening silence, the pressure of the atmosphere making it difficult to breathe. It felt like we’d traveled for hours already, but it could have been mere minutes. Time could get away from you on the bridge.
As the last of the cave walls fell away and the pathway descended in a downward spiral, the hair on the back of my neck raised with awareness of the unnatural beings that occupied the bridge. They were stirring in the darkness, growing more aware of our presence. I could feel their eyes on me, hear their ethereal voices beckoning in soft whispers, begging me to join them. Ghostly fingertips brushed at my skin in the barest of cold touches, but whatever remnant of protection the bridge had left kept them at bay. Goosebumps stood out on my arms and hot, putrid breath stirred my hair in the suffocating darkness.
One step in the wrong direction and the beasts would drag me into the void, making me one of them.
“You feel him?” Druan whispered, glancing up into the abyss as he stepped closer, refusing to allow the darkness to separate us the way it had the others.
“I feel a lot of things,” I murmured. "Lots of eyes." I pulled my fur cloak tighter around me.
“It’s the ancient one," Druan said. "The old dragon serpent, as old as the Nine Realms. Older even than Yggdrasil.”
“Pretty sure Jörmungandr is the one breathing down my neck.” I knew the Berserker must be feeling just as vulnerable as I did in this wretched place.
“He is Amara’s many times great-grandfather.” Druan shuffled his foot forward, searching for the pathway.
“Perhaps he will give us his blessing and let us pass without incident.”
“Somehow I doubt that," Druan said grimly. “I think he’s angry we have disturbed him."
“All the more reason to move quickly." For the first time I felt grateful he was here.
“Druan? Are you there?” Vendela called from farther down the path. She sounded frightened.
“I’m here. Keep moving, Dela; we will catch up.” He pushed us forward and I quickened my pace to keep up with Vendela, praying to the blessed Mother that Fiske and Amara wouldn’t lose us.
Hours blurred into each other and the cold seeped into my bones. From time to time I glanced over my shoulder. I thought I heard footsteps, as though the shadowy creatures followed, just waiting for one of us to stray off the path.
"What is it?” Druan followed my gaze to see what had caught my attention. I could just make out Fiske and Amara right behind us, but nothing beyond. It was such a strange sensation to be so close, yet I couldn’t hear them, so heavy was the silence in this realm.
"Nothing." I turned back, peering at the compass dangling from my pack to make sure we were still heading north. The pathway could be deceptive, but as long as the needle pointed north, we would make it to the other side in time. The slightest deviation could send us off chasing shadows and phantoms before we even realized it.
The pathway continued to narrow, the suffocating void pressing in on us from all sides. It forced Duran to follow me, his arms stretched out like guardrails as if he could protect me from the void.
Finally I could sense Vendela just an arm’s length ahead of me, though she might as well have been a hundred yards away. I felt bad for leaving her to take the lead by herself.
“Will she be okay?” I shifted my backpack, the weight of it seemingly heavier than when I packed it. Even the weight of the fur mantle I wore felt heavier than it should.
“Dela is never truly alone. She will be fine.” Druan pressed us forward.
The cold monotony of the bridge threatened to drive me crazy. Something was bound to throw us off course, and that knowledge kept us all on edge.
I saw a brighter light ahead and the pressure began to lessen slightly as the pathway widened. Sheer cliffs of iridescent stone rose on either side of us creating a narrow passage heading northward. It wasn’t as cold here. I breathed a sigh of relief, taking several deep breaths for the first time in hours.
“Can we take a rest here?” Fiske’s disembodied voice echoed behind me.
“Quiet!” Vendela whisper-shouted.
A loud crack sounded above, making my heart skip a beat.
“Time to run.” Druan grabbed my hand and jerked me forward as falling rock rained down. A deafening earthquake punctuated his words and the ground shook beneath my feet.
I gripped his hand, feeling the Berserker’s pulse quicken under my thumb.
“Stay together,” Druan called as he shoved me into the tight passage.
I reached blindly for Vendela's hand but couldn’t find her. Druan pushed me along the crumbling path until we were running, but as the left cliff fell away, the ground began to shift and slide beneath our feet.
"Backs against the wall," Druan ordered. I slid my pack in front of me and pressed my back against the remaining cliffside. Slimy creatures clawed at the iridescent stone wall at my back, trying to get to me. Their voices grew loud in my ears, morphing from ethereal whispers to shrieking wails.
My heart pounding painfully and my hands grew clammy with cold sweat. I slid my foot along the narrow ledge, all that remained of the pathway, and inched along in small steps.
“We have to keep moving.” Druan’s hand clutched mine like a lifeline. I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
“Dela?” He called out for his friend, a note of panic in his voice.
“I’m okay, Dru. Keep moving.” Her ghostly voice drifted back to us.
But Druan wasn’t moving. He was plastered against the wall.
“Hey Fiske?” I called out softly. “You back there, buddy?”
“Yes, your Majesty, thank you for your concern.”
I rolled my eyes. “The Mother save me; I can’t live with that for the rest of my life.”
Druan snorted, finally sliding his feet along the ledge. “I thought all you Valkyrie women liked the bootlicker sort.”
“You’re disgusting.” I watched as he inched slowly along, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He was trying to keep his panic in check and arguing with me seemed to be the distraction he needed. “Don’t believe everything your people say about mine. Not every Valkyrie of our matriarchy is a man-hating shrew.”
“You should take your own advice, Princess. Not every Berserker of the patriarchy is a brutish caveman either.”
I grunted but kept my hand locked around his, moving forward and setting an even pace. The ledge we stood on was barely a foot wide. For a man as big as Druan, it was no wonder he was having trouble finding his footing.
“Let go of my hand, Princess,” he hissed.
“No, I don’t think I will.” I gripped him tighter.
“If I fall, I’ll pull you into the void with me.”
“Then don’t fall.” This man had done nothing but bark orders at me from the moment he came into my life, but in this particular moment, I was the one in control and I needed to take charge if we had any hope of making it off of this bridge alive. “Vendela, are you still in front of me?” I peered into the oppressive darkness.
“I’m just ahead of you, Alithea. Keep going.”
My skin crawled, and not just from the deathly cold hands trying to claw through the stone cliff to get to me. Druan’s hand trembled in mine and I knew how he and Vendela must be feeling. Berserker rage tended to come to the surface at the worst times. I squeezed his hand gently. “My Valkyrie wants out,” I whispered. “She wants to fly us all out of here to safety.”
“Don’t you dare,” Druan growled, taking another painful step in the right direction. “You’ll sink like a stone here in this dead air.”
He was right, but the urge was strong. I fought with my Valkyrie shivering beneath my skin, resisting the instincts that screamed at me to transform.
“Of course not. I just meant … you must feel a similar sensation with your … familiar.” Berserker warriors often bonded with an animal they felt a special kinship with. With her wolf-like eyes there was no doubt Vendela held a bond with a fearsome wolf, but I suspected Druan’s familiar was a big beast of a bear.
“My kindred,” he corrected me. “I had to leave Sam behind. She will join me when we return. And I imagine it’s quite different. I don’t turn into a beast; I’m just aligned with one.”
“Yes, but don’t you essentially become them when your Berserker rage takes over?”
“I do not dominate Sam or take her over. She allows me to see through her eyes and lends me her strength and senses. You’ve been listening to too many stories.”
“So what you’re saying is, it’s not the same thing at all and I’ve just been listening to old Valkyries talking nonsense about Berserkers.” With nothing anchoring me but his hand, I pressed my free hand flat against the wall, praying to the Mother I wouldn’t lose my balance and tumble off the side of this mountain.
Druan’s feet moved as long as I kept talking. He froze like a statue whenever I stopped. As the ledge continued to narrow, I could smell his sweat and fear. The big, strong Berserker was terrified and for some reason that made him seem almost human.
“Exactly,” Druan said. “There is much our peoples have embellished about the other over the centuries.”
“Perhaps our generation will be the one to end that nonsense.” I could hope, but after centuries of rivalry between the two nations, it would take more than my generation to wipe out the bad blood between us.
“How are we doing, Thea? Tell me we’re almost through this rough patch?”
It was the first time he’d used my preferred name, and without the mocking tone. “One step at a time, Dru. We’ll get there eventually.”
I placed my foot in a precarious position, my heels throbbing from supporting all my weight. My back pressed so tightly against the stone wall my bones and muscles ached with the slightest movement. I was exhausted from the tension and stress of our predicament. If we didn't reach the end of this ledge soon, we were going to fail.
I slid my foot forward, searching for purchase, but the two-hundred-pound man-child behind me had stopped moving. His fear was beginning to win, and I did not have time for a Berserker meltdown. I looped my arm around his and tugged.
“Come on, tough guy. You don’t want to miss out on all the gloating when you hand me over to my sister. That’ll be a big payday for you, won’t it?”
“There is a hefty price on your head,” he managed, his deep voice a rasp. “Though I never dreamed it was such a big head.” He was a jerk, but the jerk was moving again and that was all that mattered.
“Did you just say I have a fat head?”
“Lots of hair,” he murmured. “And feathers.”
“Most people like my feathers,” I muttered. “Humans think I pay a lot of money to make my hair look like this.”
“Humans are odd creatures. Are we even headed north now?” He pressed his head back against the wall, his chest moving too rapidly with his breath.
“Let’s hope so, but I’m not checking again until we get off this ledge.”
“Druan?” Vendela's voice rang out in the darkness ahead. She sounded closer this time.
“I’m here,” he called back.
“Follow my voice. You’re almost here.”
Druan seemed to respond to the confidence in his friend's voice. He picked up the pace, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the ledge began to widen under my feet. After hours of inching our way along the face of a sheer cliff, we reached the other side.
I took several clumsy steps forward and when I was finally able to turn away from the wall my back was drenched with sweat under my fur mantle. My legs felt like jelly, but the first big hurdle was behind us, though we’d barely begun.
“Come, the pathway widens ahead.” Vendela’s voice guided us forward until the iridescent light of the bridge finally illuminated her form. She sat slumped on the ground, her head resting against her knees. I slid to the ground beside her, my legs giving out now that we were safe. The unquenchable thirst hit me hard and I fumbled for my canteen. Taking a few deep sips, I forced myself to save the rest for later. I would need it. My empty stomach gurgled and I searched through the pack of provisions for a strip of dried beef.
Right now, I wanted to curl up and sleep, but one did not sleep on the bridge and expect to reach the other side alive.
“We have to keep going.” Druan dropped down beside Vendela, pulling her into a tight embrace. The commanding tone had returned to his voice.
“In a minute.” Vendela cradled her head in her hands.
The shimmering pathway glowed with a bright turquoise light here, but it turned into a sharp upward hairpin curve that loomed overhead, like a road through treacherous mountains twisting back on itself.
I stared into the void, just able to make out the pathway as it twisted and turned above us like an ancient snake. I could see all the different branches that had once led to other realms. In ancient days this area must have been a main thoroughfare. I had trouble imagining what that must have been like.
Fiske and Amara stumbled onto the path in a burst of activity. Fiske was shaking like a leaf and Amara seemed only mildly alarmed. I watched as they both scrambled for their canteens, desperate for a drink that would never slake their thirst. I was responsible for these people. They were here risking their lives because of me.
I cleared my throat, staring down at my lap as I clutched my backpack to my chest. “Thank you all for working so hard to bring me home.” My voice sounded harsh to my ears as it echoed off the crumbling walls. “I only apologize you had to come get me in the first place.” I looked around in the eerie light, meeting each of their gazes. “Had I known what my actions might cause when I left, I never would have. I hope you all understand that.”
Druan gave a disgusted snort, but Amara nodded her regal head, the light of understanding burning bright in her green eyes.
I climbed to my feet, tugging my cloak close as I lifted my backpack onto my back. “Have we lost north?”
“No,” Vendela said, “we are still headed true north, but we must go forward, not up. She pointed to the sheer cliff facing us.
“Can’t we follow the winding path?” Fiske gestured to the faint blue light marking the road twisting and turning above.
“That way leads northeast. True north is straight ahead, and we must follow it.”
I tilted my head back to look up at the rocky mountain standing in our way. Pieces of the path dotted the cliffside, casting a ghostly blue glow. I couldn't even see where the northward path became whole again. It didn't matter—this was north and we had to keep going no matter what lay in our path.
“Wait!” A desperate voice called behind us.
For one moment we all stared at each other, checking to see who was missing.
“It’s a trick,” Vendela whispered.
“No.” I shook my head, horrified. He wouldn’t. Taking two steps back the way we’d come, I heard the frightened voice again. “It’s Ben.” Fear lanced through me. I couldn’t send him back now. The only way out was through. If my people didn’t kill him, I would.
“Ben? Who’s Ben?” Druan stepped between me and the darkness.
“My friend.” I shoved past the stubborn man. “Ben?” I ran back a few more steps, heart in my throat as I searched the shadows for his stupid face, half hoping I was just hearing things. “Follow my voice if you can hear me.”
I waited, unable to breathe as I stared into the void we’d just traversed.
A cold, clammy body slammed into me, almost knocking me to the ground.
“Thea, I’m so sorry. I can’t do this alone. I know you didn’t want me to come, but I followed you and I … what is this freak show place?” His heart hammered against mine as he clung to me, trembling from the cold.
I wrapped my arms around him and anxiously scanned his face. His dark eyes stared back at mine, lit with a thousand questions. “It’s okay.” I brushed my hand over his cheek. This was the worst thing that could happen for him, but I was overjoyed to see him again.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve never been so happy to see your grumpy face.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I answered, shifting until my lips almost touched his ear. “Say nothing of what you are,” I murmured as softly as I could, hoping the others wouldn’t hear the warning.
“You’re not going to kick my butt for following you?”
“There’s nothing to be done about it now. You can’t go back.” I took his frozen hand and turned back to the others.
“What is this human doing here?” Druan pulled Ben away from me, peering down at him like he was considering tossing him into the void.
“He isn’t human,” I blurted, anxious to keep Ben from ruining his chances of surviving their world before he even arrived. I cast about for a reasonable lie and offered the first thing that came to mind. “His father was a Berserker.” Ben had a bit of the look of a Berserker with his dark eyes and careless manner. Druan would buy it. “He just didn’t know what he was until we met. It’s a long story, but I trust him with my life. He comes with us.”
”Your Majesty, are you sure?” Fiske eyed Ben with a sneer of distaste.
“Did he just … Your Majesty?” Ben’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Your Majesty?” His laughter rang out, echoing like a gunshot, and he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. “You? Thea? Come on.” He gave me a skeptical look.
“We have better things to do than mock me.” I shoved him ahead.
“Are you like a queen or something?” He walked backwards a few paces.
“Alithea is Princess of Valsgard and will be Queen Heir when we return.” Fiske managed to puff himself up like an angry chicken.
“Princess?” Ben cocked his head and squinted at me in the darkness. “I’m sorry, I just can’t see it.” Humor laced his tone.
“You’d do well to try, boy,” Fiske hissed.
“What’s this guy’s problem? Is he like your boyfriend or something?”
“I am her betrothed,” Fiske answered regally at the same time I said, “No.”
“Betrothed?” Ben mouthed the word. “Oh, this is too much. It’s like I’ve fallen into a Black Mirror episode.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, shuddering, and that was when I realized he had to be half frozen by now. “Can we leave this place? I’m freezing and there’re some creepy voices out there whispering in the dark.”
“We’ll share my cloak.” I tried to slip out of my fur.
“Enough.” Druan raised a hand. “Alithea, keep your cloak. Ben will travel with Amara; she will keep him warm. Fiske, move ahead with Vendela. I’ll bring up the rear with the princess.”
“Warm? Which one is Amara?” Ben turned to face Vendela and the dragon. Amara snorted a puff of smoke at him. “Whoa, what was that?” He took a step toward her. “Ooh, you are warm.” He sidled up next to her. “Can I hug you? I’m freezing.”
Amara gave a low growl but allowed him to stay close.
“Is he always so chatty?” Druan asked.
“Unfortunately.” I forced a smile to mask my fear. Ben was going to regret ever meeting me, but for the moment, I was desperately happy to see him. I could keep him safe. I would keep him safe. With whatever waited for me at home, I needed a friend I could trust. One who could remind me not to take everything so seriously.
“Can he climb?” Druan asked.
“He has a name, and it’s Ben.” Ben swept into an elaborate bow. “And yes, I can climb, among many other talents.”
“All right everyone, we don’t have enough climbing gear for six,” Druan announced. “You come with me, Princess; we’ll double up.” He tossed a set of gear to Ben. “Dela and Fiske will lead the way with Amara and Ben in the middle. Let’s make this quick, we have a lot of time to make up.”
I wasn't comforted by the thought of climbing such a long way with someone who was clearly afraid of heights. But I followed him anyway, waiting for the others to begin their ascent. Druan pulled the climbing gear from his pack and set to work strapping me into the double harness that would hold both of us.
“We will have to take turns climbing,” he said. “This is going to be a long night. Have you ever done this before?”
“Yes.” I nodded, trying not to recall the memories. “On my way to the human realm—and without climbing gear.” I took his answering grunt as one of begrudging respect.
Druan worked quickly, securing our lines to the sheer cliffside. He moved with expert precision, sinking anchors into the wall and looping lines from one safety to the next as we began our way up to the northward path.
Once again, we faded into a cocoon of darkness, just the two of us. The hissing voices called to us, but I ignored them. Druan seemed remarkably more in control now than he had on the ledge. His body language showed no trace of fear. He was quiet, concentrating on each movement.
We developed a system as we went. I took over sinking the anchors into the wall and he looped our safety lines. We worked together to pull our combined weight up a few feet at a time.
Druan reached for the next handhold and I anchored another clip, on and on without an end in sight. My arms screamed in agony after the first hour, but we had to keep moving at a steady pace. We’d already lost so much time.
“My grandfather taught me how to hunt,” Druan said softly, breaking the silence. “When I was just a boy.”
“Isn’t that some kind of a Berserker rite of passage?” I frowned, not sure what brought on this conversation.
“Berserker fathers teach their sons how to hunt, but my father … was never overly involved in my life.” Druan’s forearms bulged as he pulled on a cord. “So my grandfather taught me our ways as much as he could. “When I was seven or eight.” He reached for the next handhold, looping our safety lines before lifting us up a few more feet. “I was on a hunting party with the other boys who grew up on my father’s lands. Though I was the Jarl’s son, and they served my father, I did not grow up with them and didn't fit in. So, I wandered off on my own. I thought I could outsmart the hunting party and reach the destination before everyone else.” Druan’s muscles strained with each movement, yet his single-minded focus was obviously on our conversation.
“I climbed high up into the mountains and worked my way along a ledge until there was nothing in front of me or behind. I was stuck.”
“I see.” The fear of the last hours made more sense now. He must have relived every moment of that harrowing experience from his childhood.
“I stayed there all night, frozen in place. I didn't think I would ever make it out. My grandfather had to come find me.”
“How did your people react when they discovered your struggle?”
“They didn't find out.” Druan smiled. “My sneaky grandfather guided me back to the trail and told me how to reach the top of the mountain—a significant rite of passage for Berserker boys. It earned me some level of respect among my peers that day. My grandfather never told anyone that when he found me, I was a sobbing, sniveling coward of a mess.” He chuckled at the memory.
There was something so mesmerizing about his voice. I could listen to him recite the lawbooks of the Nine Realms and find it interesting—so as long as he wasn’t insulting me.
“Stuck on a mountain ledge all night with nowhere to go?” I could imagine how horrible that must have been for a seven-year-old. “The few hours we spent back there were enough to make me never want to go hiking again.”
“I much prefer climbing with gear,” Druan said dryly. “This way I can control my journey.” He reached up for the next ledge. “I can select my own path, allowing me to have a say in my own destiny. Inching along a ledge just waiting for the path to run out leaves too much up to fate for my taste.” His breath had become labored and a sheen of sweat covered his brow.
“Want me to take over for a little while?” I gazed up at the towering cliffside stretching into the abyss. If we didn’t get off this mountain soon, we weren’t going to make it.
“Are you sure you can manage it? I'm kind of heavy.”
“My Valkyrie can, but I’ll have to partially shift first. Can you hold us steady for a moment?”
“I’ve got you,” Druan responded.
As we hung there, I reached for my inner Valkyrie. I couldn't fully transform—that would be disastrous with my heavy wings—but I could definitely use the strength and stamina of my other form right about now.
My hands elongated and my bones lightened. I felt Druan shift imperceptibly beside me as my weight changed. My eyes tightened and my shoulders clenched as my Valkyrie tried to flood my system.
“Easy,” I murmured, warning her she couldn’t come out fully. She calmed and the transformation stopped.
“Take a rest while you can.” I took up the lines and set a steady pace.
I climbed as long as I could and when I tired, Druan took over again.
“How did you do this alone, Princess?” Druan suddenly asked. “And at such a young age? You must have been terrified.”
“The first time? I was fueled by desperation and at the end of my rope,” I said. “I was facing things that were far more terrifying to me than anything I might have come across here. My only way out was forward, so I just kept moving.”
“And now?” he asked.
“Same thing.” I gave another yank. “I never wanted to be queen, especially when I believed there was someone much better for the job, but now it doesn’t look like I have much choice. My people need me, and I won’t let them down again.”