The Unyielding

Kera met with the leaders of the Clans in the only place they could finally agree on. A synagogue in Beverly Hills.

Rabbi Tavvi Mankiewicz met her at the entrance. “Ms. Watson.”

“Please,” he said with a smile, “come in.”

Kera walked inside. She’d never been in a synagogue before. It was cool. She’d have to come back when the world wasn’t hanging in the balance.

“Right this way.” The rabbi started walking and Kera fell into step beside him. “You do know the rules, yes?”

“Rules?”

He smiled although she could tell he was annoyed she hadn’t been given the information. “No yelling. No threats. No cursing.”

“Who would do that in a synagogue?”

“I haven’t finished. No slapping. No punching. No kicking. No throwing things. Especially any ancient holy text.”

“Oh, my.”

“No weapons.”

Kera stopped, stared at the rabbi with her mouth open. “Pardon?”

“That means no knives, no swords, no maces, no giant hammers.”

She briefly closed her eyes, disgusted. “Of course, Rabbi.”

“Do we understand each other, Ms. Watson?”

“Absolutely. We are just here to talk.”

“Sadly I’ve heard that before. As has my father and my father’s father.” They began to walk again. “But for the sake of our world . . . I will allow this meeting.”

“Thank you, Rabbi. I’ll make sure complete control is kept.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, smirked. “I get the feeling you will.”

They went down a set of stairs to a conference room, where the others were already sitting at the table.

“If you need anything . . .”

“Thank you, Rabbi. We’re fine.”

He nodded and walked out, closing the door.

Kera swung her backpack off her shoulder and dropped it onto the table. “Ladies and gentlemen . . . and Brent.”

“It’s Brandt.”

“Whatever. I made a promise to the Rabbi. We will all be nice and friendly to each other, even if it kills us. And if it does kill us, we’ll die outside. Understand?”

It took a while, but they all eventually nodded their agreement.

“Here is where we are. Erin has gone into the Nine Worlds; we, of course, have no contact with her—”

“So she could already be dead,” Brandt Lindgren said flatly without an ounce of emotion. Typical for the leader of the Silent.

“Chloe,” Kera said before her leader could get over the table and wrap herself around Lindgren like a cobra. “You promised.”

Growling a little, Chloe sat back down.

“It’s true.” Kera looked directly at Lindgren. “Erin could be dead, but we’re going to move forward under the delusion that she’s still alive, okay? Great,” she snapped before he could say anything else.

“So what’s the next step?” Ormi asked.

“Odin has suggested that Gullveig is already back or on her way. I believe we might have run out of time. But we’ve . . . managed her high priestess, which might slow her down a bit.”

“We also don’t think she’ll be back at full power yet,” Inka added.

“Which means what for us?”

“The Carrion,” Kera answered. “We need to lure her out before she’s at full power.”

“Lure her out? How?”

Kera glanced at the Holde’s Maid and she nodded her encouragement. “We challenge the Carrion.”

“To what?” Rada asked with a stunned laugh. “A street fight?”

“Yes. A proper Viking challenge. In three days’ time we meet them for battle.”

Rada looked at the others before refocusing on Kera. “Have you lost your mind?”

“What’s wrong, Jaws?” Freida asked, cackling. “Are you afraid of the Carrion?”

“No. I’m just not stupid.”

“We all know it won’t be an easy battle, Rada,” Ormi pointed out.

“No,” Kera agreed, “but I think it’ll be the only way we’ll be able to get Gullveig out in the open before she’s at full power.”

“For what purpose?” Rada pushed.

“The hope is that Erin will be back with the sword by then and we’ll be able to strike.”

“And if the Crow doesn’t make it back from Corpse Shore with the sword?” Lindgren demanded. “Then what?”

“We could give Gullveig you, Brandt,” Inka offered, “and hope that your giant, slightly sloping head appeases her appetite.”

Josef snorted a laugh, Lindgren’s glare not bothering him in the least.

“Look,” Kera explained, “we’re going to have one chance at this. We either kill her with that sword or we shove her back out of this world again and pray—to whatever god is listening—that Hel is bored with her and won’t even bother helping her a second time.”

Lindgren glanced around the room before asking, “And if we don’t manage to do any of that?”

“Then Ragnarok begins,” Inka explained, “and it starts a chain reaction that won’t end until nothing of this world is left.”

Kera shrugged. “And you think a challenge will work to get her out of wherever she might be hiding?”

“I think it will definitely get out the Carrion. Erin did just kill their Key. But Gullveig hates us, so yeah. I think she’ll grab at the chance to watch the Carrion stomp all of us into dust.”

She could tell from everyone’s expression that they believed that, too, so Kera moved on. “Now, I’ve spoken to Clan leaders in the rest of the States, Latin America, Europe, Africa, and Asia. They’re all preparing for the worst, but those closest will be traveling in the next three days, so they’ll be here for the battle. Whether Erin makes it back or not.”

“Or she makes it back and this sword idea doesn’t work anyway,” Lindgren tossed in.

“Yes, Mr. Positivity, that, too. But in the end it’s all on us. When the fight starts, we’re all in.”

“We can’t,” Sefa Hakonardottir suddenly announced, her eyes barely looking at any of them. “When the battle happens, the Valkyries will be there. But only to help those who fall get to Valhalla. Freyja’s orders.”

“Does she understand—”

“She understands, Kera. It just doesn’t matter.”’

“Fine,” Kera said, unwilling to focus on what didn’t help. “We move forward. At this point, it’s all about the timing.” That was officially her mantra now. It had to be; she had no choice.

Kera reached into her backpack and pulled out her clipboard and pen, to the groans of everyone at the table—which she ignored—“Let’s get down to it, shall we?”

* * *

Gullveig stared at her onetime priestess. They’d cut out her tongue, something Gullveig considered extremely tacky. Were there no boundaries these humans would not cross?

She paced back and forth in front of the body, at least grateful that she’d finally rid herself of those ridiculous robes that Hel had insisted she’d dress in while in Helheim. She was back in clothes that fit her style. A Dior dress, Gucci shoes, Prada purse, and Harry Winston jewelry. She had no idea why anyone would dress any other way.

Gullveig looked at a those assembled in front of her. “And you say they have . . . ?”

“The Key,” one of the Carrion explained.

“Why would they need that?”

“It seems they wanted to send someone into the Nine Worlds. We just don’t know for what.”

“To get something that they think will destroy me, of course.”

“And is there something that can do that?”

“I doubt it, but why risk it?”

“Perhaps we should get you back to Helheim.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Gullveig smiled. “Not when things are just getting interesting.”

* * *

Vig grabbed several Norwegian beers from his fridge and walked out to his porch. He handed the bottles to Jace, Eriksen, and Kera before sitting down in a chair. Brodie Hawaii moved over to lie next to his feet.

Jace, sitting on the porch stairs with Eriksen behind her rubbing her shoulders, softly asked, “Does anyone else feel—”

“I can’t be the only one who’s hungry.”

“Actually, I was going to say nauseous.” Jace studied the label on her beer. “I’ve sent my best friend to her death. We’re planning to directly challenge the Carrion. And the world’s probably going to end.”

“You didn’t send Erin to her death,” Kera replied. “I did. It’s been my decision to move forward. If this ends badly . . . it’s all on me.”

Jace looked over her shoulder to debate the point, but Vig held up one finger to silently ask her to wait. A few seconds later, Kera got up and went back into the house, Brodie Hawaii following behind her.

“She went to throw up,” Vig explained to the couple’s apparent confusion. “But don’t worry. She vomits, then she’s ready for anything.”

Eriksen pointed at where the dog had been lying down “And Brodie went with her because . . . ?”

“Hold her hair back.” When the couple only stared, “That was a joke, but I have been told by my brothers that I’m not good with those.”

“But you tried,” Jace sweetly cheered. “And that’s what counts.”

A few minutes later, a paler Kera walked out of the house. “Sorry about that.”

Vig reached out and caught her arm, tugging her over until she sat on his lap. “It’s going to be fine,” he told her, stroking her hair. “It’s all moving forward just like it needs to. The rest is up to Erin.”

“And Stieg Engstrom,” Eriksen added. “Of all the Ravens, Stieg Engstrom is in the Nine Worlds . . .” He winced. “Now I feel nauseous.”