32. Azzie
Thirty-Two
Azzie
After Salt Lake, I swore we wouldn’t put down roots again. That I wouldn’t. Now I was sitting on a couch in the living room of the house I’d shared with Davyn for the last seven months.
Zeke was next to me, and my back was to him, resting against his arm. It might look standoffish to someone who didn’t know us, but it was comfortable and comforting, as much as the silence between us was.
The two of us spent more time at his place than here because Davyn was always nearby here. He didn’t trust Zeke, and he didn’t try to hide it. He was always in hearing range, which meant that he’d know what we were saying.
That wasn’t why Zeke and I were quiet, though.
He was thinking about what Finn had said, about choosing to hide certain information that might have saved a life.
I knew something Zeke didn’t—something none of them did—so I was just as bad. I wasn’t keeping it a secret to be cruel, but I hadn’t decided how to share the information Kirby gave me before we parted ways.
That she was responsible for the destruction in Salt Lake.
In all my travels, the name Kirby had come up a few times. Not in relation to me, but as part of conversations. When people talked about prophecies and death and rebirth. Davyn had even mentioned her, along with the other Valkyries.
If I didn’t get this thought out of my head, it would drive me insane, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. “This new information about Finn, is it that different than anything else about their past?”
With my question, Zeke’s arm stiffened against my back.
I waited a moment for his response, and continued. “Think about it. The only thing I really know about Davyn’s past is that Berserkers are fighters and killers.”
When people mentioned Kirby, they talked about how strong she was. They said that about Valkyries in general. I struggled to reconcile that with what I needed to say, and instead I was hiding the words under babble.
“He’s always been there for you. Davyn, I mean.” Zeke’s voice was tight. Most of the time he rolled with my poorly introduced thoughts, but I could tell when they rubbed him wrong.
I could be like her, a younger me, the one who adored the winged warrior maidens, demanded I acknowledge the thought. I could’ve attended battles, and seen brave warriors to the next life, in Valhalla .
No. Because I was one of those warriors. Not a side note, and not a woman who hid in buildings and watched people through scopes before approaching them. I collaborated with the people around me, rather than commanding, and I didn’t expect loyalty when I hadn’t earned it.
Where did that last thought come from?
“Not always.” My retort to Zeke’s assumption slipped out. Davyn wasn’t there when I was growing up, after he broke my arm. When the Valkyrie showed up in Salt Lake?—
That wasn’t fair. I’d made him leave, and he couldn’t be by my side every minute of every day. It would drive us both mad.
“You know what I mean,” Zeke said.
I did. “You know who was in Salt Lake?” I needed to spit it out. “Kirby.”
“What?” Zeke jerked forward and I fell back, finding myself staring up at his confusion.
I heard the shuffle of footsteps on linoleum, and the faintest creak of floorboards, as Davyn paused in the doorway to the living room just out of sight. He moved quietly, especially for his size, but he couldn’t sneak up on me.
Zeke offered me a hand, and I sat again, this time sideways on the cushion, with my legs crossed, facing him. He twisted halfway to see me as well.
“I knew she was there near Enid’s because she was watching us from a window, through a scope. I remembered what you told me,” I said. “She was hunting me from the shadows instead of walking up to me and introducing herself, and in Salt Lake, supposedly she was protecting me from people who were there to kill me, but…”
The whole situation was ridiculous. When Kirby told me, I’d struggled to wrap my brain around it. “She couldn’t get to the shooter in time, so she fired a grenade at them. In the middle of a city during morning rush hour. She caused the explosion.” Saying it made me as angry as when she’d told me.
Zeke’s face contorted into an odd combination of confusion and fury. “Why?—?”
“That was all she told me. That she did it to protect me, and she was sorry things went down the way they did.” I hated it so much. People actually had been hurt because of me. “I blamed myself, and it was her. She pulled the trigger. She fired the bomb?—”
Zeke opened his mouth.
“I swear to the gods if you correct me and tell me a grenade isn’t a bomb…” I let the threat hang unfinished.
He snapped his jaw shut.
“If that’s how Kirby and her friends—lovers—keep people from dying, maybe Finn was right to keep the prophecy to himself.” I let the conclusion I’d tried to avoid fall past my lips. “I get trying to sidestep prophecies.” The fact that Zeke and I were talking this way was proof. “But this…”
Zeke huffed and rubbed his forehead. “I loved comics when I was a kid. I would sneak a read whenever I could. I loved the escape. The fact that there were good guys and bad guys and the gray areas didn’t look anything like real life.”
I listened, waiting for the rest of the thought, and I swore I heard Davyn hold his breath.
“Turns out people with super powers are just as fucked up as humans.” Zeke scooted closer until his knees met mine.
“Finn’s always been there for you, too.” I didn’t want to linger on Kirby. I didn’t trust her after a revelation like that, and I had a hard time convincing myself Finn was completely in the wrong.
What would I have done in Kirby’s shoes in Salt Lake? If I had the chance to protect another potential, but it meant others would die… Or even just one other person.
There was no way to say until I was in that position, but I couldn’t imagine making that choice—sacrificing others for one person fate thought might be important.
Zeke rested his hands on his knees, and I reached out to trace the design on the back of the right one. The contact grounded me as much as following the lines of the familiar pattern.
“Yeah, Finn saved me, but the entire time I’ve known him, he’s kept things from me,” Zeke said.
I heard the hints of unspoken thoughts in his words. “But?”
“We’re not talking about trading one life for another. He kept a secret, but telling wouldn’t have killed the seer.”
“It might have killed others. See what happened seven months ago.” I wasn’t going to get stuck in a circular argument with him.
Zeke was subtle about pulling his hands away, but there was no way I would’ve missed the break in contact. He tucked them into his lap instead. “You surround yourself with people like that. If they hadn’t been there, Davyn would’ve torn that city apart to stop people from hurting you.”
Wait, which side was Zeke on?
“He knows I wouldn’t want that. I don’t want someone else to die so I can live. Never,” I said as much for Davyn’s benefit as anything.
“Me neither.” Zeke slumped and leaned his weight against the back of the couch.
The silence was back, but now it made me squirm.
“Life doesn’t work like that.” Davyn’s voice came from the doorway, and I jumped, despite knowing he was there. “You always make the best decision you can at the time. We all do. It’s easy to look back and say they could have done it differently , but even if you were there, even if it was you, there’s information you have now that you didn’t then. That’s what Finn did.”
Davyn was defending Finn? Did Hel freeze over?
“What would you have done in his place?” Zeke didn’t turn to look at Davyn.
“I don’t know because I wasn’t in his place,” Davyn said.
I sighed at the lack of answers, external or from myself, and slipped down in the cushions. Seconds ticked away, and when my phone rang, I didn’t know if I was grateful for the disruption or irritated by it. “It’s Enid.” I clicked Answer. “Hey.”
“Are you all right?” Enid asked.
It seemed I was off enough that I’d let it show in my voice. “Good. Dealing with stuff. Nothing life threatening, though.” My own words tickled a thought in the back of my mind, but the connection flitted away before I could grasp it. “What’s up?”
“The siren is ready to see you.”
A distraction. A direction. I sat up straight, and Zeke raised an eyebrow. “When?” I asked.
“Now.”
What? “ Now now? No. Why?” I wasn’t ready for any sort of test or training. My mind was off-track. I hadn’t stretched. I wasn’t re?—
“Because it’s a psychological crucible.” Enid stopped me from thinking things I’d rather not. “The more time you have to think, the more you overthink, and it hurts your chances. Basically she said you don’t want to psych yourself out before you get there.”
I couldn’t. “I need a little time to get ready.”
“Are you clothed, awake, and decent? If the answer to all of the above is yes , then you don’t need time. I wouldn’t push if Tania hadn’t emphasized how important it was you go the moment you found out,” Enid said.
This was the kind of thing I searched for. This was what I wanted. Why was I hesitating? “I’m not ready.”
“You’re as ready as you will be in a day, or two, or a week. I have faith in you.” The way Enid said it, I couldn’t help but believe her.
“Okay. What do I need to bring?” I was intently aware of Davyn and Zeke watching me. Listening. Davyn could probably hear Enid, but I doubted Zeke could.
“Just a powerful person of knowledge to make the introduction.”
Easy enough. “You? I’ll be right there.”
“Not me.” Enid let out an awkward laugh. “Someone who knows a lot more than me.”
I only knew one being like that. “Finn.”
At the name, Zeke frowned.
“He’ll work,” Enid said.
Let’s do this . “Thank you. I’m on my way as soon as I find him.”
“Good luck.” Enid hung up.
I looked between Davyn and Zeke, who wore twin expressions of expectation.
“You’re not going alone,” Davyn said before I could explain.
Pursing my lips, I stared him down. He didn’t flinch. I didn’t have time for this and I did like that he had my back, so I turned to Zeke instead of arguing, and explained what was going on. “You can stay here,” I said. “I’ll go ask Finn if he can take me.”
“ Us .” Davyn spoke up.
Zeke stood and offered me a hand up. “I can’t avoid him forever, and I should go home anyway. I’ll walk you over there.”
Finn was in the living room watching TV, but he looked up the moment the three of us walked in. I explained the situation again.
“No.” Finn spat out the word the instant I finished. “Zeke, she’s training to kill you.”
Were we doing this again? “I’m not. You know I’m not.”
“But you will when it comes down to you or him,” Finn said.
I wouldn’t. I refused. “I’ll find another way. I won’t kill Zeke.” Or anyone I didn’t have to.
Zeke let out a growl that could’ve competed with Davyn’s. “Just fucking—” He raked his fingers through his hair. “—try for thirty seconds to be something other than a cocky jackass, and do this favor for her.”
Was Finn hurt?
If that was what I saw, his expression was a mask again in a blink. “Fine. Let’s go. I assume I’m taking the whole family.”
“What do you think?” I looked at Zeke. “Do you want to hang out and see Australia while I have my psyche scrubbed?”
“Sure. Why the hell not?” Zeke took my hand and Finn’s.
I grabbed Davyn’s as well, and then we were standing on a street outside instead of in Zeke’s house.
We stepped inside a bakery, and the warm fresh scents of bread and pastries wrapped around us. This entire space radiated comfort. The woman behind the counter looked to be my age, but if it weren’t for the stark white hair, Finn would too. She gave us a bright smile. “G’day lovelies. How ya goin’?”
This was nothing like what I expected. Not that I’d played the scenario out in my head, but most beings who offered to test or train me were aggressive from the start, similar to my encounter with Ulf. They all wanted to ensure I knew they were the experts.
Maybe we were in the wrong place?
“We should go.” Finn turned away.
Davyn stuck out an arm to stop him, and Zeke glared at him.
“You spoke with a friend of mine a short while ago, about a test?” There was no reason for me to be anything but polite. If this was the right place, it was expected, and if it wasn’t, this woman was kind. “She told me you were expecting me.”
“Yes, of course lovely.” The feeling floating from her grew even more welcoming. “You must be Azzie?”
“I am.”
“Then this is Davyn,” she pointed, “Zeke, and Fionn. It’s been too long.”
“Not long enough.” Finn spoke through clenched teeth, and Zeke smacked him in the arm.
If he was going to be like this the entire time, I was grateful I got to leave him outside the test. “I apologize on his behalf.”
“She doesn’t,” Finn said. “I don’t give her permission to do that.”
The woman let out a light laugh that reminded me of the sweetest bells. “It’s fine, lovelies. I’m Tania. Come on in. Take a seat.” She gestured to a table near the wall that had four chairs, and ushered us in that direction. “I’ve been expecting you. I made lunch.”
This was so odd. “You spoke with Enid, correct? About me going through a trial meant to unlock who I am?” Sometimes blunt was the only way to get answers.
“Of course. Sit.” Tania gestured again. “You can’t go into a test on an empty stomach. You need your strength.”
Davyn sniffed the air, then pulled out a chair and sat.
Zeke brushed past me as well, and I gave them both a questioning look. Were we being this casual now?
“What?” Zeke asked as he picked a spot. “You only participate in the conversation if the master is rude or dismissive?”
“I… They’re never anything but.” I wanted to relax the way they were. Nearly every bit of me was singing and content. This felt as much like home as home did.
It was the tiny part of me that remembered the rest of my life that kept me on my feet.
“I’m a siren,” Tania said. “You’re supposed to feel good in my presence.”
“How…?” Did she read my mind?
Tania shook her head. “You don’t have to trust me. You don’t even have to eat. But I like to cook for people, and this gives me an excuse.”
I didn’t know how to deal with that.
Finn sighed and sat as well. “You wanted to come, Azzie. If she was asking you to slam your head into a wall repeatedly, you’d do that without argument.”
I didn’t like that he was right.
“Better. Be right back.” Tania smiled, and strolled out of the room. She returned a moment later with a large tray hovering in front of her. It held four plates of what looked like sausages wrapped in pastry, and piles of french fries. She placed a plate in front of each of us.
This felt wrong.
“The food is not poisoned or cursed or magical in any way,” she said. “I give you my word.
Finn nibbled a fry, then ate it. “Weren’t you the one who insisted the other day that non-magical food has its own elegance?”
Davyn was already halfway through the sausage roll, and Zeke was eating as well.
“That’s not how I phrased it.” I was here for a test, though. If this was part of it, I needed to participate. Besides, I was starting to be rude and that wouldn’t do. I ate a french fry. “It is very good.” I meant it.
Tania beamed. “I’m so glad, lovely. Who wants drinks? It’s best with ale.”
“Water, please,” Zeke said.
A single beer on a full stomach shouldn’t be a problem. Besides, this was so good, and if she insisted the ale was the right pairing to make it better… “Ale sounds great.”
Davyn and Finn voiced their agreement, and four drinks appeared on the table in front of us.
Why…? The question flitted away before I could grasp it, and I took a drink.
“Thank you.” Davyn looked content with the massive plate in front of him, already half empty.
“What do we owe you?” I asked. “For the food and what comes next?” If it was important I do this now , I wanted to get it over with.
Tania pulled a notepad from a front apron pocket, along with four small pencils. “I collect fears.”
Despite her pleasant tone, a shiver raced down my spine. That was never good. “Why?”
“I may have defied the nature of a siren in being here, but I need to eat, too.” She set the pencils next to each of our plates, then tore sheets from the pad one at a time and handed them out. “Write down your biggest fear, that’s all I ask, and then we can get started.”
I wasn’t delusional enough to think I’m not afraid of anything , but my biggest fear was my own. It lived in my head, vocalizing it terrified me, and writing it down felt like surrender. It was the question I’d asked myself over and over since Ulf put the idea in my head more than three years ago. What if the prophecies aren’t real?
Mentally shaking the thought aside, because I wasn’t about to go into this already psyched out, I wrote Snakes . As I looked around the table, I saw the others pressing graphite to paper, pausing, or scribbling words themselves.
“Those are only for you and me,” Tania said. “So fold them and tuck them under your plates, and I’ll collect them while you’re all otherwise occupied.”
All ? “No. This is just for me,” I said.
“No. I’m hungry too, and the agreement was for all of you.”
Fear spiked inside, and I tried to say, “don’t touch them.” A burble of babble drooled past my lips instead, and my arms felt a million miles away.
“No. Just Azzie.” Finn’s voice sounded distant.
Davyn was trying to stand, I thought that was what I saw. His foot slipped, and he landed on his ass on the floor.
Why was my head so heavy? Why was Finn just sitting there?
Why—?