The Fox and the Falcon (No Other Gods #2)

Chapter Twelve

“More tea?”

Fauna might as well have asked me if I wanted to sign over my life savings, jump in the Antarctic Ocean naked, and give a free full-service session to Republican Senator Geoff Christiansen. I could tell from her grimace that she could see the flames behind my eyes before I even started speaking.

“Firstly, absolutely not,” I bit. I remained on my feet as I glared at the room. “Secondly, how fucking dare you. Thirdly, what’s wrong with you? Fourthly—”

“Yes, we all know you can count very high,” Fauna muttered as she swept up my now-cold teacup and carried it to the sink.

Estrid took over. Her face folded into something that almost resembled sympathy. “Well, Aloisa has a reputation for being a hard-ass. She fits in really well for a newcomer. More of a valkyrie than a human, in my opinion.”

“Just like her partner.” Ella glowed.

I stopped myself from asking something insensitive about Geir and his gender, particularly as he’d impregnated my great-grandmother. I’d studied the healing valkyrie, Eir, ad nauseum. The tales had used feminine pronouns in the Prose Edda, but it was thousands of years out of date. No amount of learning would qualify me to understand his gender better than him.

Besides, he was fae, and I’d spent weeks learning that I didn’t know jack shit about life behind the veil. Instead, I asked the only thing that made sense.

“álfheimr isn’t the afterlife. Valhalla, maybe, but humans don’t come here when they die.”

The three looked at me with amused curiosity. From the kitchen, Fauna shouted, “Please, sweet pea, tell us where humans do or do not go when they die!”

Well, my friend was officially back to her cheerful, if condescending, self.

I wasn’t such a stranger to this world that I didn’t know when I was on the losing end of a supernatural—err, preternatural?—argument. Rather than double down, I thought of the palm against my forehead and asked, “Was he really Eir?”

Estrid answered for all of us. “Geir? Yes, he was our healer. Very useful in battle.”

“We needed him,” I said, heart cracking.

Fauna’s doe eyes met mine. She nodded as if to say: The cat’s out of the bag. Might as well spill what’s left of our secrets.

I wasted no time speaking my mind. “If we’re about to storm an enemy pantheon, we needed a healer.” My mouth soured with each word. “If you had prepared me, Fauna, I could have handled things differently. I could have won allies for what we need instead of alienating relatives. You set me up for failure.”

Fauna snorted. “She’s been aware of you for decades. I seriously doubt one perfectly worded conversation would suddenly win her over.”

My temper crackled. “Then why bring her? Why bring either of them?”

“If I told you that I had my reasons, would you trust me?” She sounded sincere. I didn’t care.

“Not in the least.” Then to the others, I asked, “If we don’t have Eir or Geir or whatever your healer is going by these days, can’t other valkyries…?” I flinched as I abandoned my question, remembering the conflation of myth and lore from my studies. Even from the texts, I had no idea what was fact and what was fiction.

Estrid made a face while Ella snickered. I knew immediately this was why Ella liked my portrayal of her partner’s people while she did not.

“No,” she said tersely. “Valkyries are not healers—Geir was, specifically, when he was going by Eir in a feminine form. What do you know? Grim reaper? Rally cry? Death deity? War god? We belonged to Odin, sent in to fight his battles. We were his warriors, the ones on the frontline, the bloodshed that spared everyone in ásgard.”

“She knows everything just enough to know nothing,” Fauna said cheerily from over our shoulders. Any tension she’d carried during our meeting had melted from her. She’d returned to the sunniest version of herself as she bustled about the home that did not belong to her.

“We know when a warrior is worthy to live or die. We chose the slain.”

I’d learned as much in undergrad, and had doubled down on my research when writing the first Pantheon novel. Valkyrie ’s etymological origin was that of two words. Vair : the slain. Kyrja : chooser. Despite knowing this, I had to ask, “You get to decide who dies?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m qualified. I can hamper enemies or stir those in battle. We identify heroes and champions just as we separate the weak and unworthy. We know who’s fit to go on to the afterlife they’ve earned, should their mortal cycle end.”

“So…” I tested my words. “You’re a war god, like Anath?”

Her laugh was gruff. “I’m as much like Anath as Fauna is like Echo.”

“The Greek nymph?”

Once more, Estrid rolled her shoulders in a half-hearted expression. “We’re the same, and we’re not. Compare us at your own risk.”

“Is…is Fauna like Eir? Where, I know her true name as something else?”

Ella and Estrid exchanged quick looks. Ella was quick to say, “I’m sure you know that names are something that can’t be given out. I’m sure she’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

Fauna reentered the living room with a platter full of snacks. The room clammed up with the stiff unoriginality of sixth graders who’d had their gossip interrupted. Fortunately, Fauna was too busy humming to herself and picking things off the plate that she didn’t seem to notice. I wasn’t sure how I managed to be surprised that she’d collected everything sweet in the home. I was a little disappointed in myself for expecting anything different from her.

Ella’s voice possessed a sympathetic affectation as she asked, “So, since Aloisa and Geir aren’t exactly joining our dream team, that means we’re down a healing ability and whatever it is his fae-made partner can do. How would you two go about finding two demons—”

“And an angel,” I offered, bristling that everyone seemed so willing to disregard Silas’s sacrifice.

“—and an angel, if they were taken by Anath to rejoin the Phoenicians?”

The three exchanged a mixed basket of incomprehensible expressions.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten into any trouble. I think I’d very much like to start some shit with the Phoenicians. What about you?” Ella cooed.

“El,” Estrid started. Her expression softened at Ella’s pout.

“I’m perfectly capable.” Ella answered whatever pieces of the question had been left unspoken.

I wondered if that was true. If Ella’s true name was Hnoss, then she was the daughter of Freyja, the deity of lust, seduction, and treasure. She was fucking gorgeous, charming as hell, and had a dragon’s hoard of jewels to help her defend her title. Still, I didn’t know what good that would do us against the Canaanite pantheon.

I allowed them their private exchange, looking about the house while they quietly argued. The gems weren’t the only thing in the house that glittered. I regarded the wall leading down a corridor where pointed spears, swords, daggers, and precious metals were mounted. They were certainly well-armed, though I’d expect as much from a valkyrie.

I looked back to Estrid and noted something unmistakably hungry. The distant glaze in her eyes made me think perhaps she was seeing long-dead visions of distant battles. I wondered how long it had been since she’d reveled in the glory of the fight.

“We’re battle-ready against demons, angels, fae, mortals, creatures, and parasites. But if we’re taking on Anath? We don’t have anything for a god,” Estrid said, voice worried. She had been crafted by the warring Aesir to find victory in Odin’s battles before defecting from the Aesir to live in a realm free of an overlord’s commands. She wasn’t afraid of a fight. I knew her hesitation was for her partner.

Fauna made a face at the statement. She jutted her thumb toward me before saying, “I had a dagger, but this one left it behind when she got into it with Astarte.”

“What dagger?” Estrid asked.

“ Etimas di mori.”

From across the room, Ella said appreciatively, “Even the gods die.”

A tingle went down my spine as I thought of the dagger Azrames had mounted in his apartment—the one Caliban had used to ensure Astarte’s claim to me was finished. I hadn’t bothered to translate its meaning.

“So, what else can kill a god?” I asked.

They exchanged looks before Ella grinned. She draped across the couch, gripping Fauna’s forearm and giving it a squeeze. “Not what… who. ”