Chapter 12
Chapter 12
T he trio of women spears through the air toward me, their silver wings catching the moonlight in painfully sharp flashes.
They follow an arc that allows them to avoid Graviter Rex’s position before they soar across my head and drop to the snow between me and the forge.
To keep them in my sights, I twist away from the dragon again, once more facing forward, my hold on Erik even tighter now.
The Valkyries land in a neat cascade, each one folding her wings to her sides to make room for the next woman, who drops to the ground with breathtaking precision.
They’re astonishingly beautiful, their skin flawless, their hair sleek and shiny, and their figures lithe, their muscles clearly honed.
Each one wears armor made of intricate plates of metal in a deep-purple color and carries a sword at her back.
Until they draw their weapons, I won’t know exactly what threats the blades pose, but the swords have similar-looking slender handles that appear to be wrapped with some kind of cord. Not a style of handle with which I’m familiar.
Interestingly, when they fold away their wings, the energy around them fades, and when their wings have fully retracted, it’s as if they’re completely human. There is not a single shred of the supernatural about them.
It’s similar to the way I am like a human when I don’t have physical contact with my tools. Although, unlike me, these women no doubt remain just as dangerous with or without their wings spread.
They step toward me without hesitation, each one surveying the surroundings as they move, their gazes moving from the hammer at my side—currently not touching my body—to the dragon and the Celestial Star who have remained at my back. Finally, to Erik.
“Move aside, Blacksmith,” the woman in the center commands without breaking stride.
She’s tall, and her shoulders are broader than the other two. Her black hair is tied back in intricate braids, and she wears a sneer on her face that cuts through her beauty.
As she continues speaking, she gives a dismissive flick of her hand, as if I were nothing more than a pest. “We have come for Erik the Vandawolf, and you would be wise to get out of our way.”
“I will not move,” I whisper, my throat suddenly dry.
For a heartbeat, it seems that none of them heard me.
I suppose they’re unaccustomed to being disobeyed.
Then the woman to my right pulls up sharply, speaking in a warning tone. “Sisters, she means to defy us.”
That woman has auburn hair tied in knots across her head. Her eyes are sharp and her figure is as muscular as the central woman’s. Her right hand rises to the handle of the sword at her back, but she doesn’t draw it yet.
The other two are quick to halt, although it’s the woman on the left, the one who has yet to speak, who takes one step closer than the others. She has the brightest green eyes and mahogany-brown hair that’s also tied back in braids, but she’s more petite than the other two.
I don’t plan to underestimate her despite her size.
The central woman snarls. “Impudent Blacksmith!”
The woman on the left with the bright green eyes holds up her hand. “Perhaps she doesn’t understand that it’s impossible to stand in our way. Even a Blacksmith as powerful as she is.”
The black-haired woman responds with a huff, but the green-eyed woman persists. “She is one of the last of her kind. It would be a shame to kill her if there’s still a chance we can reason with her.”
The auburn-haired woman gives a heavy sigh and lowers her hand from the handle of her sword, looking at the black-haired one, who now folds her arms across her chest and glares at me.
I suppose that’s her way of acquiescing because she doesn’t voice a further objection.
“Do enlighten her, Sister,” the auburn-haired one says, casting her sharp gaze over me. “Before we are forced to take her life.”
The woman with the bright green eyes takes another step toward me. She appears far more cautious of me than the other two—despite stopping closer to me to begin with.
She slowly lowers herself to the snow opposite me, taking up a kneeling position a full three paces away from me, her legs tucked under her and her hands folded in her lap.
She looks serene even as her breath frosts in the freezing air, and she doesn’t seem to notice the cold that must be seeping through the plates of armor covering her legs.
“I am General Glass,” she says, her gaze steady. “This is General Griffin and General Glaive.” She indicates the woman with black hair first and then the one with auburn hair. “We serve the Valkyrie Queen and are entrusted to command the three sections of her army.”
I study General Glass closely. She can’t be more than twenty years old. Maybe only a year older than my sister, Tamra, and my brother, Gallium, who are twins. My heart wrenches to be reminded of them, even if Tamra is angry with me. I need to get back to them. They’re in terrible danger, but I can’t help them until I deal with the threat directly in front of me.
Glass continues speaking, her voice cautious and her gaze seeming to take in every small change in my expression. “It is a great honor for an Einherjar’s soul to be claimed by a Valkyrie general,” she says. “Even more so that their soul will be collected by not one, but all three of the Valkyrie Queen’s generals.”
Her expression remains earnest. “I promise you we will carry his soul with the greatest care and respect back to our Queen. She, herself, will lay him to rest at the head of the Hall of Warriors. These honors have never been bestowed on any Einherjar before. It is the greatest glory an Einherjar can ever achieve.”
It’s everything his people believe in. But Erik left that life behind.
“He didn’t die for glory,” I say, my voice a rasp.
He died for me.
He died because of me.
Glass’s focus slides to my hammer, her gaze lingering on its head, where it’s partially immersed in the snow.
“Bravery,” she whispers, her focus now passing across the runes etched into the hammer’s head. “Loyalty, strength, perseverance, and hope. Those are powerful protective runes, and each is filled with his deep light.”
Her focus returns to me. “He carved those for you. They are his wishes for you.”
My eyes burn with tears. Erik’s body is becoming heavier in my arms and it feels…
I gasp against the pain.
It feels as if he’s pulling away from me.
He’s leaving me.
“If you take his soul, what will you do with his body?” I ask.
“We will take that, too,” she replies. “So it can be burned on a sacred pyre, as is the way of the Einherjar people.”
I drag air between my lips, tipping my head back to the clear sky, trying to fill my chest with oxygen before I suffocate.
There will be nothing left of him but ash.
General Glass’s voice softens. “You’re grieving.” She refolds her hands in her lap, and there’s a catch in her voice as she continues. “I understand your pain, Blacksmith.”
I find myself focusing on her features more closely, on the tension around her eyes and the press of her lips.
“I, too, have experienced loss,” she says quietly. “It encompasses my every thought and overwhelms my every instinct. But with every breath I take, I must fight it.”
As she speaks, Glaive steps farther to my right while Griffin moves to my left, both of them moving to flank me.
“We are a fierce race,” Glass continues, her voice hardening now. “We have very little room for compassion and no room for weakness.”
Her jaw clenches as her gaze flickers meaningfully to the other two generals, who continue to move until they are positioned mere paces from each of my shoulders, perfect locations to strike me down.
I imagine they can easily lop off my head from where they now stand.
They don’t seem to be paying any attention to Graviter Rex until he edges toward them, his big form moving at the corner of my eye and the heat from his fiery mouth puffing across my back.
He doesn’t have the chance to speak before Glaive snaps at him, her auburn head tilted to him even while she keeps her sights on me. “Do not interfere, Dragon King! You know well enough that no creature on this Earth, however powerful, can withstand our magic. Not you. Not that Celestial Star. And certainly not this Blacksmith. If she wishes to die beside her love, then we will oblige her.”
I don’t have the chance to gauge his response because Glass continues speaking to me, her voice sharp now. “You must move away, Blacksmith, or we will kill you. We will not return to our Queen empty-handed. Not when there is a soul such as Erik’s to be claimed.”
He is more than a soul to me.
My focus falls to Erik’s face. To the snowflakes that rest on his cheeks and no longer melt. To the blueness of his lips. The paleness of his cheeks. The way he is turned toward me.
I remember when he was dying after the fight outside the human city, the hollowness of his voice when he first spoke of snow.
“I’m tired of digging in the snow. Let me sit beside you, where it’s peaceful. Let it end here with you and me. In the snow.”
Glass’s voice is beyond harsh. “We will not tolerate a challenge of any kind,” she says. “To challenge us is to challenge our entire race. Do you wish to start a war with us, Asha Silverspun?”
It’s the first time one of them has called me by my name.
My focus snaps up to her.
I asked Graviter a similar question about war. I told him that if my enemy could find a way to kill a dragon, then I could, too. I told him that if he wanted a war, then let it begin here and now, with him and me.
Do I fear a war with the Valkyries?
No. I do not.
“Asha.” Graviter’s voice cuts through my dangerous thoughts. It’s filled with warning—and coming from farther behind me. I can no longer see him from the corner of my eye, indicating that he’s moving as far as he can away from the Valkyries. “Do not make enemies of the Valkyries.”
The sound of ringing steel fills the air.
Light flashes across their curved blades as both Glaive and Griffin draw their weapons. The angle at which they’re standing allows me to clearly see the weapons, and the tips pointed at me.
I’ve never seen swords like these. They are sleek, curved, and so sharp that the edges reflect the moonlight.
“Move aside,” Glass commands me, rising to her feet where she has remained opposite me.
She hasn’t drawn her weapon yet, and she takes several steps back, so I presume she will allow the other two the honor of killing me. Based on her present position, I guess she doesn’t want blood splatter on her armor.
She waits another heartbeat while I remain exactly where I am.
I am where I belong. Beside Erik.
A short, frustrated sigh escapes her lips. “Such a waste.”
Then she gives a nod to the other two generals, who raise their swords, their postures filled with purpose as they prepare to swing at my neck.
It will be a swift execution.
Judging by the way they’re holding their blades, the black-haired Griffin will cut my head from my neck while the auburn-haired Glaive will drive her sword at an angle through my shoulder and down into my heart.
My mind fills with the memory of Erik’s voice.
“Let me sit beside you, where it’s peaceful.”
“Let it end here with you and me,” I whisper.
The air moves across my back as the two razor-sharp blades swing toward me.