Geela was afraid. She clutched her sword with sweaty palms, taking cautious steps forward. One moment, the boy had been there; the next, gone. He’d been erased, as if she’d imagined him. Maybe she had, her mind reasoned. After all, nothing down here made any sense.
The distant murmur of voices feathered her ears. They were singing her name, chanting it. She prowled forward toward the sounds. Something brushed her face, like a filmy cobweb. Sweeping it aside, she stepped forward into bright light.
The dank tunnels of the underworld were replaced with familiar rolling hills. They spread before her, a verdant green, split by a winding river. The Edris River. She would know it in her sleep. The red roofs of her village were just on the other side.
Geela was home.
Not understanding and not caring how this was, she ran. Jumping lightly over the stones that dotted the river, she crossed it without getting wet and ran the beaten path to her mother’s cottage. She recognized the whitewashed walls and patch of garden like she’d left home yesterday, not hundreds of years ago. A thin wisp of smoke trailed from the chimney. Vaulting over the gate, Geela saw her mother in the yard, hanging the wash out to dry. Geela ran as fast as she could, afraid the image would disappear before she could reach it.
“Mother!” she shouted. The words tasted funny on her lips, as if she were underwater. “Mother, I’m home.”
Geela reached her side, holding her arms out for a hug, but her mother didn’t respond.
“Mother!” she cried again, “It’s me, Geela, your daughter returned. How I have missed you.” Geela leaned in and wrapped her arms around her mother’s ample waist, but it was like she had no substance. Her arms passed right through as the old woman reached for another sheet to pin to the line.
“Mother?” Geela whispered bleakly. She looked ancient, wizened with age. Her lanky hair was a solid sheaf of gray. Her cheeks were thicker, and heavy lines etched her skin, as if she’d known great sorrow.
From the house, a familiar voice called out. It was Geela’s brother, Emmet.
“Mother, a storm is coming. Why do you bother with the laundry?”
He leaned in the doorway, resting heavily on a cane. He was old, too, a man of at least sixty. The last time she’d seen him he’d been a boy, only fourteen and bursting with energy. Now he was stooped with age. But his smile was the same, and Geela smiled in response. Some things hadn’t changed. That was a gift.
“Come, Mother; it’s Saturday. Time for our visit.”
Her mother sighed and nodded, putting her hand on his arm. Curious, Geela followed, treading easily as her elderly brother helped her mother along a well-worn path up the hill. Underneath an apple tree, two headstones stood side by side. The name inscribed on the left was her father.
With a rush of tears, Geela sank down in the grass, running her fingers over the date. She’d remembered the day they’d buried him like it was yesterday. Swiping her hand across her face, Geela looked at the next headstone. Choking grief made her swoon when she saw her own name etched simply with just the year of her birth.
“Do you think she’ll ever come home?” her mother whispered, laying a wreath of white alpine flowers in front of the stone.
Geela twisted to see her brother kiss their mother on the forehead. “She is a bright star shining in the sky. A warrior princess that looks over us all. At night, I see her riding across the heavens in a blazing gold chariot, her sword held high as she slays the dragons of the dark.”
Geela laughed, overjoyed at his words. They were so close to the truth. Her mother drew comfort, letting him tuck her into the crook of his arm as they turned away.
“I only wish I could have told her how much I loved her,” her mother said. “I only wished she knew.”
Geela couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. This was impossible, of course. Her family was long dead. Still, it felt so real—the smell of the grass and the feel of the sun, her mother’s wrinkled face, her brother’s crooked smile.
Suddenly a dark cloud passed overhead. Geela reeled in horror as a black winged creature formed in the sky, flying down over the heads of her family, breathing a trail of fire and scorching everything in its path. Geela screamed a warning as the flames incinerated the land, but the frail pair barely had time to turn before they were engulfed, incinerating them and turning them to dust.
Geela prepared to run the beast through with her sword, but it tumbled and morphed. A swirling black cloud surrounded them. When the smoke cleared, Helva stood before her, and they were back in her drawing room as if they’d never left.
With the dying screams of her family on her ears, Geela staggered forward, determined to end the life of this half-corpse.
Helva’s laughter was brittle. “Oh, come now, it was just a little fun. Surely you didn’t think it was real?”
Geela recalled the love in her mother’s voice, the pride in her brother’s. It had been real. Helva didn’t understand it because she’d never received that kind of love before. That was her weakness.
“You’re wrong,” Geela said. “It was real. Maybe not at this moment, maybe I wasn’t there, but they said it. The universe heard it and remembered. I am a Valkyrie warrior, and I have been graced by the gods with gifts of speed, courage, and heart. I can tell when someone is lying, and you, Helva, are lying. I saw a memory. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Helva looked bored as she seated herself on her couch. “Oh, believe what you like; the point is that you’re never getting out of here.”
Geela drew her sword, the flickering fire glinting off her golden blade. “I say I’m leaving, and I’m taking the girls with me.”
Helva’s eyes were glittering chips of ice. “You have no powers here. And, besides, you don’t even know where they are.”
“Don’t I?” Geela walked toward the rotting creature and then veered left, heading for the birdcage. She raised her sword high over her head and swung at the chain holding the cage, severing the silver links. The cage fell to the ground, shattering and splitting apart. The two birds flew up at Geela, as if they were attacking her.
A flash of doubt pinched her brows. Had she been wrong? Those green eyes had been haunting her. So much like a witch’s. But they flew over her head, making a beeline for Helva. They began pecking at the ghastly woman, flying in her hair and clawing at her face.
Geela smiled. No. She had been right. The smaller bird was Mavery, the larger Perrin. Now she just had to get Helva to change them back.
“Get them off of me!” Helva screamed, and then she sent a blast of witchfire as the birds flew up to the ceiling.
The green light exploded the birds in a puff of yellow feathers, and then Perrin and Mavery tumbled to the floor, gasping for air.
“Took you long enough,” Perrin said, spitting out a yellow feather.
The imp Mavery just grinned at her. The three of them faced off against Helva. The queen of the underworld’s face was scratched and bleeding along her human side.
Geela held her sword in front of her. “We can make a deal, Helva. You wish to see the light of day more than anything, but you can’t leave because Odin cursed you to stay here. If you could, you would have left the moment Odin arrived. Even the magic you stole from Sam isn’t enough to get you out of here, or you would have left.”
Geela could see her words were hitting their mark by the glittering hatred in Helva’s eyes.
“Great, let’s incinerate her,” Perrin said, drawing up a ball of witchfire. Mavery followed. Geela raised a hand as Helva matched theirs with twin balls of green fire.
“What if I had something that could make you whole? A potion given to me by Freya, Goddess of Life. All you have to do is tell us what happened to Odin.”
Helva sat with her arms crossed, refusing to speak.
Perrin blasted her witchfire at the chandelier overhead, destroying it in shards of glass. “You should tell her,” the witch said calmly, “before I destroy this place.”
Helva looked frightened, and she flung her hands in the air. “Okay. Odin was here, for a moment, lurking about. He was looking for something. I barely caught a glimpse of him, and then he was gone. But he took something with him. Now give me what you promised.”
She leaned forward greedily as Geela reached around her neck and pulled out a vial held on a long, thin cord.
“If I am ever wounded, I am to drink Freya’s potion, and it will revive me. Every Valkyrie carries one. If you drink it, you will be restored to your natural self.”
“And end this curse?” Helva said, looking at her skeletal half.
“It will make you whole,” Geela said, holding it out to her.
“Then I will be human, and I will be able to leave.” Helva danced with glee, holding up the vial. She twisted the lid off and drank the contents down in one gulp, smacking her lips in satisfaction. Almost at once, flesh began rippling along her skeletal arm, making her face pinken and round out. “It’s working,” she cried, admiring the new flesh. Then, as suddenly as it grew, the flesh began shrinking back and turned gray. The fleshy human side of her face sunk in, the skin peeling and falling away.
“What is happening?” she screamed.
Geela watched in horror, holding Mavery close, as Helva’s flesh disintegrated off her, falling off in big patches. In moments, her entire body became a hollowed skeleton with only a thatch of blond hair left attached to her skull. The fabric of her dress hung limply over the bony structure. Green vapor began lifting from her skin, forming a trickle that snaked up to the ceiling, whirling in a circle as it grew, as Sam’s magic was drawn out of her, and then, as the last drop left her, the cloud vanished, as if it had never been.
“What have you done?” Helva hissed in a crackling voice as her remaining lung shriveled into a black lump. “You said I could be beautiful!”
Geela stepped back. “I said you could become whole. Just like you asked.”
“No, this wasn’t what I wanted,” the skeletal creature cried pitifully. She collapsed to the floor, dragging herself forward with her bony fingers.
“But it is who you are. Come”—Geela turned to the girls—“it’s time to leave.”
They left through the front door.
At the gates of Helva’s mansion, Geela held the others back. The guard dog, Garm, stood waiting, paws planted as it lowered its head to growl at them. Wearily drawing her sword, Geela prepared to fight the canine when a blast of green witchfire incinerated it into a pile of ash.
Geela gaped at Perrin. “How did you—”
But Perrin snarled at her. “How could you let him do it? Sam can’t survive without his magic; he won’t be able to protect himself. You should have stopped him.”
Guilt sliced through Geela. The girl was right. “I’m sorry. It happened so fast. Sam would do anything for you two. How could I stop him from saving you?”
Perrin’s face twisted with grief. “I don’t know. But you should have,” she said in a husky voice. “Where is he, anyway?”
“He went after Odin.”
Mavery nudged the older witch. “Sam will be fine. He’s not just a witch, he’s a Son of Odin. We need to find Skidbladnir and get back to Skara Brae. Sam’s gonna need our help when he gets there.”
“Uh, about Skidbladnir,” Geela began.
An hour later they were back at the stone pier where Skidbladnir had sunk. It had taken some negotiation at the gate with the gatekeeper that had ended with Perrin promising not to incinerate him if he returned Geela’s golden cuffs and breastplate.
The scarred walls of the cavern displayed the black streaks of Sam’s rage.
“So it’s really gone?” Perrin said, nudging a pebble into the black water.
“Yes, we couldn’t save it,” Geela said.
Neither of them noticed Mavery peeling off her boots until the little witch stood on the edge in her bare feet and dove in.
“Mavery!” Perrin cried.
The little witch disappeared into the murky pool. Geela flashed on the underwater creatures that lived there. She and Perrin exchanged a quick nod, and then they were shedding their boots, but before they could jump in, Mavery’s head bobbed up. She looked like a seal with her black hair slicked back. Perrin hauled her up onto the stone pier.
“What kind of crazy stunt was that?” the witch shouted. “Do you remember those horrible creatures that snatched you up?”
“I had to get Skidbladnir.” She held up her fist. Wrapped around her hand was the end of a rope. It snaked down under the water.
“And what are we supposed to do with this? Haul the ship up?” Perrin asked snarkily.
Mavery stomped her foot. “Stop treating me like I’m a child! I am a witch, and I have magic. Magic is you needing something and believing it can happen. Didn’t you ever pay attention to your lessons? We need Skidbladnir to rise, so, by the gods, I’m going to make it rise. Now step back if you’re not gonna help.”
Geela’s eyes met Perrin’s. The older witch shrugged. “Okay, imp. You’re right. We have nothing to lose. I’m in. Geela, you take the rope. When we say pull, start to pull it up.”
Geela took the rope, wrapping the wet twine around her hands until she had a firm grip. She had no idea if this was going to work, but something about Mavery’s bravery made her want it to. Bracing her feet, she nodded at the girls.
They dropped into a stance and began moving their hands through the air.
“Go ahead, Mavery. This was your idea,” Perrin said.
Mavery began chanting. “Mighty Skidbladnir, ship of the gods, rise and sail again.”
She repeated it as they moved their hands. The third time she said it, she raised her foot and brought it down in a sharp stomp. A loud rumble sent ripples across the water. At the same time, Perrin released the ball of energy that had gathered over her head, throwing it at the surface.
“Pull!” Perrin shouted to Geela.
The water boiled and bubbled furiously. Geela put all her Valkyrie strength into tugging. At first, nothing happened. Perrin kept up an onslaught of crackling energy at the water as Mavery kept up her chant. Something budged. The rope slackened, and she pulled it in.
“Keep it up, it’s working!” Geela shouted.
Slowly but surely, the ship rose out of the water. The mast broke through first, and then the railings of the ship followed, and then the hull with the gaping hole in the side appeared.
Perrin drew her hands up, drawing water from inside the boat like a fountain spraying through the air until the little ship bobbed on the surface.
Mavery pointed a finger at the hole, sending a small blast of witchfire to dance around its edges as she shouted, “Mighty Skidbladnir, you were built to carry the gods. One little hole cannot destroy you!”
The ship vibrated, rattling its timbers. They stopped to watch as light began to glow around the edges, lighting up every timber in the ship. Then the hole began to fill in, inch by inch, until it was sealed up. The ragged tears in the sail stitched themselves up, and the grime and holes in the deck from the giant squids repaired themselves until the ship was shiny and new again.
Mavery clapped her hands, squealing with glee. Geela dropped the rope, panting with exhaustion. “You did it!” She hugged the little witchling. Perrin just grinned, nodding as she folded her arms. “Mavery did it,” she said, giving her a wink.
A long plank extended from the boat to their stone pier. Mavery skipped on board. Geela strode to the wheel, grasping it with both hands. “Take us to Skara Brae!” she shouted. A crack opened up in the ceiling. Rocks fell until a small hole opened up. Stars twinkled through the opening. The ship launched itself in the air, and they sailed out of Helva’s underworld into the night sky.