Valkyrie warriors had few limitations. They never tired; they were able to fly for hours in the form of the swan and transform instantly into warrior mode and do battle. Their swan form displayed the golden shield and helmet of their armor, their swords tucked under their wings, ready to access at a thought.
As Geela crossed the great waters that stretched between the Orkney islands, she wondered if it had been a mistake to join with the gods. She was tired, deep down in her soul. She had served for close to two centuries now, never questioning the orders, never doubting her mission, never once asking if this was what she wanted.
A maiden when the goddess Frigga had found her, she had been fighting off a rival landlord after her father had died and her mother had taken ill. Her younger brother, Emmet, had gone to get help. The lord thought she was easy prey for his ruffians and had tried to take over their lands, but she had drawn a sword and battled for their rights. She had been pinned down, having taken out over a dozen of his men, but their numbers were too many.
And then Frigga had been there, blasting her horn and swooping down from the sky to pluck Geela out of their grasp before they ran her through. She had fought it at first, wanting to go back to her family, but Frigga had shown her how empty that life was. The men had taken the land, and, even if Geela had stayed, there was rot in the vines that plagued the farm for years. She only wished she’d been able to say goodbye to her mother and to find out how Emmet had fared.
Frigga had done her a favor, Geela knew, ignoring the salty tear that leaked from her swan eye. A big favor. One of the raiders would have taken her as his wife and forced her to be his servant. She was far better off as a golden warrior of the Valkyrie, but sometimes her human-self asserted its contrariness.
Like now.
She felt sorry for the boy. Vor had always been kind to Geela, honest to a fault, and had seen her struggle with accepting life with the Valkyrie. Vor had often offered kind words of encouragement. Geela trusted Vor in ways that Frigga couldn’t understand, even though her loyalty lay with her queen. Vor’s words of caution weighed on her.
Movement in the water caught her eye. Something large, like a small island, but mobile. Geela veered sharply to her left and soared lower over the ocean, enjoying the spray from the whitecaps.
The wet smell of feral wolf reached her at the same time the waves parted and revealed a mass of fur and gnashing teeth pawing through the water. Geela reared back, her wings flaring out as she squawked in surprise.
It couldn’t be.
Fenrir? The giant wolf Odin had banished to Groll? The beast was swimming freely in the ocean, but how was this possible?
She gritted her teeth. The boy. Of course. Was this part of his plan or Loki’s? Geela didn’t have time to puzzle it out. The distant shores of Garamond were within reach. Fenrir could not be allowed to make land.
A beast like Fenrir would devour, destroy, and ravage anything he came in contact with. She soared toward the paddling wolf, transforming from her swan form to warrior. She gripped her gleaming sword between two hands. He wasn’t aware of her presence. She still had the element of surprise. If she could come up behind him, she might land a lucky blow to his skull.
But Fenrir must have sensed her because his ears pricked up and he turned, snapping at her as she landed on his back and aimed for a spot behind his ear. She missed, tumbling forward, and hit the surface of the water, skipping across it as she regrouped.
The water frothed as the wolf paddled furiously, swiping at her with his paw. She brought her sword up, thrusting it into the tender part of his pad.
Fenrir yowled. She hauled herself up by grabbing clumps of his fur and ran up to his shoulder, diving to reach the soft vulnerable spot under his neck so she could sever his artery.
She got her blade up, but the wolf swung his jaw hard to the side and knocked her in the head. The solid bone acted like a hammer and jarred her helmet so hard that stars danced behind her eyes. She was flung backward into the water. A cloak of darkness settled over her as her body went limp.
It must have been some time later when warm rays of sunlight licked at her face, bathing her with golden warmth and energizing her blood. Geela sat up with a gasp, coughing and spitting up water. She was on a ship, sailing across the water, fast and low.
Skidbladnir.
Her hand rested on the deck. Magic flowed in the boards under her fingers. Somehow, she’d found her way onto the very ship she had been searching for. Wiping her mouth, she staggered to her feet, reaching for her sword.
There it was, strapped to her waist securely. She touched her head. The golden helmet she wore was missing. Her breastplate was in place, but she felt exposed without her gleaming headpiece.
Voices and the sound of laughter rang out from the back of the ship. Still dizzy, she stepped carefully so as not to faint and headed for the sounds.
They were children, three of them. The boy she recognized as the Son of Odin, and two girls, one only a waif. She sniffed. Witches. Her lip curled. She hated witches. She had forgotten the boy was one of them. What does Vor see in him? she wondered as she prowled forward, sword in front of her.
They seemed unaware of her presence, laughing among themselves and chattering like monkeys. The small girl wore Geela’s helmet, prancing around in it like it was part of a costume. They had no weapons other than daggers strapped to their sides. The older girl kept one hand on the wheel. Did they not realize the great injustice they had done, releasing Fenrir? The savage beast would devour entire villages, and these children acted as if they hadn’t a care in the world.
Enraged, Geela leapt forward, intending to land in the middle of them and scare them, but as she leapt, a funny thing happened. The trio split apart seamlessly and bent the air so that she was pushed to the side, landing hard against the rigging. Her sword was ripped out of her hands by some strange pull, and she was on her back like a turtle, helpless to move as she gasped air into her lungs.
They stood over her, green eyes narrowed, taking wary stances. She had seriously underestimated them. They had been aware of her every move. Not knowing who she was or if she could be trusted, they had waited to see how she would act, and, like a fool, she had attacked them. She dragged in a long gulp of air and held her hands up in an act of surrender.
“Peace, I come in peace. I’m sorry.” She sat up slowly so they wouldn’t blast her with the balls of green energy that hovered over their hands. She got to her feet. “I am Geela of the Valkyrie. I am commanded by Queen Frigga to assist you in finding Odin. How did I come onto this ship?”
The trio exchanged a look that told her they were as surprised as she was.
“The ship kind of has a mind of its own,” the boy said. “It swung around. Almost knocked us overboard and headed your way.”
“Why did you release Fenrir?” Geela asked, casually kneeling to collect her sword. Frigga had ordered her to end the boy’s life if he posed a threat.
The boy looked pained. “I had to, to get the key.”
“What key?”
The little one butted in. “Don’t tell her, Sam; she just wants to trick us into turning around.” The brat still wore Geela’s helmet.
Geela swung her sword in a blaze of gold light and placed it against the neck of the third witch, who had stood silently by, keeping her hand on the wheel. The girl didn’t flinch. “Tell me why you wanted the key,” Geela said evenly, her eyes never leaving the girl’s.
The girl didn’t answer, but her eyes told Geela that she was conflicted about this journey of theirs.
“Can we put our weapons down?” Sam said, lowering his hands and extinguishing the green light. “It sounds like we’re on the same side. We needed the key around Fenrir’s neck in order to get into Jormungand’s cell.”
Geela gasped. Were these children insane? Or working for Loki? “Why in Odin’s name would you seek out that evil creature?”
Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Frigga sent us to find Odin in Helva’s underworld, but she didn’t think to give us a map.”
Perrin firmly pushed the sword away from her neck before she said, “There’s one scratched in the back of Jormungand’s cell. Sam didn’t mean to free Fenrir; it just happened. That’s usually how it goes with him. My name’s Perrin. You obviously know who Sam is, and the imp is Mavery.”
The little one silently handed over the helmet.
Geela sheathed her sword, tucking her helmet under her arm. She was still puzzled by the events. “And now you are headed to Jormungand’s lair? To find this map?”
The witch-boy grinned at her. “Yup. Unless you have a better idea?”
Geela did not. She had heard of the treacherous underground tunnels that led to Helva’s underworld entrance. A map would save valuable time.
“Is Odin really dead?”
The question had come from Sam, but all three witches stared at her, awaiting her answer.
Geela met his eyes. “I don’t know. Death does not follow the same rules for the gods. They live on in a cycle that never ends.”
His eyes flickered with frustration. “What’s different about this time? Why doesn’t he just come back?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, but something has changed. Odin has never been gone this long.”
Perrin asked bluntly, “Do you think we’re too late?”
Geela sighed as she made her decision, knowing Frigga would not approve. “I think we have to find Jormungand and see if this map really exists.”