Chapter 16 Gullveig
Gullveig
Thanks to months of training, I don’t hate Freja quite as much.
Unfortunately, the other vanir are just as bad as I was led to believe they were.
They slaughter earth children without a single thought.
They ensnare earth children who are capable of being bonded without a care for free will or anything else. We’re nothing more than tools for them.
In fact, Freyr said as much.
He persists in calling Gorm ‘heier,’ because he thinks it’s funny to call him ‘bright.’ It’s how the vanir see us—earth children with more light around us. My brother doesn’t deserve another name, because we are only tools.
Freja’s different, though.
She’s kinder. She also listens to the things I say, evaluating my words for their benefit, their truth. She’s spent a significant amount of time preparing me to join her in war. The idea of going with her, of being there on the battlefield and helping her destroy my own people—it’s painful.
I know that’s what they need me to do, though.
It’s the entire reason I was trained and sent among the vanir in the first place.
Gorm hasn’t been training, but Freja told her twin that she was taking me to the next battle, and he said he’d do the same—our proximity will strengthen the twins.
Having us far away leaves them vulnerable.
At least with Gorm going too, we’ll be together when it happens.
I always imagined it that way, dying with my brother at the same time, in the same place, serving the aesir’s cause to the end.
It won’t be a guarantee that the aesir can kill Freyr and Freja, but it’s a good start.
And if we can help, it’s worth it. Only once the vanir are finally destroyed will the earth children finally be free to truly live.
What are you thinking when you disappear into your mind like that? Freja cocks her head sideways, her eyes narrowing. I’ve never had an ensnared who did that—utterly blanked her mind.
“It’s called meditation,” I say. “It helps me to focus. It clears my head of all the things that don’t matter.
” Really, though, it’s the only time I can think about what’s coming, my plans.
It’s my one chance to prepare. Had I known she was already back, I’d have done it later.
It’s much harder to keep her out when she’s actively trying to penetrate my thoughts.
You know, at first the brights were more plentiful.
Freja circles the area where I was training with my short swords.
She showed me patterns to follow—she told me it’s from the vanir’s study of the most successful earth children warrior patterns.
My training might keep you alive longer, but I think the vanir’s careless bonding and death of so many brights has been bad for your population.
“The brights, as you call them, are the strongest of Jore’s children, those who are still pure of heart. We used to be the guardians of the earth among her children. We’re rare, and you should take a little better care of us.”
Like the aesir, you mean.
I sheathe my swords in the scabbard on my back and cross my arms. “If you lose your bonded humans, you’ll die here on Earth. It’s not your home.”
Freja laughs, as she often does with me. It’s as much my home as yours.
“Not so,” I say. “Your father was a visitor here, whereas our mother is the earth under our feet. You’ll never be welcome in the way we are.”
Do you wish you were a sky child? Freja, as always, has questions. Do you resent us for coming here and making you feel so small by comparison?
“I have never resented the world for the way it is. I simply make plans to change the things that are wrong in it.”
Freja shakes her head. You’re the strangest earth child I’ve ever met. You still haven’t told me how you kept the other vanir from bonding you.
“Nor do I plan to,” I say. “Some things aren’t meant to be shared with one’s master.”
She roars then, throwing her head back. It’s almost time. I brought you something to celebrate that you’re joining me tomorrow when we attack. She drags something from the edge of her cavern where she dropped it until it’s right in front of me. Then she bumps it with her nose, nudging it closer.
I lean over and reach for the long, leather-wrapped bundle. It’s heavy—heavier than I expected. “What is it?”
She merely smiles.
I unwrap it carefully, which turns out to be good, because inside are two of the sharpest swords I’ve ever touched. “I have short swords,” I say. “They’re easier for me to manage than these full-length ones would be.”
But these are better. She looks smug. I spelled them. They’ll slice right through aesir hide like an oar through water.
I suppress my grimace. “How wonderful.”
Many of our ensnared believe that fighting the aesir is antithetical to their entire purpose in life. After all, the aesir treat their earth children like beloved pets. But know this. She looms closer. A pet is still a slave. At least we’re honest about who you are to us.
I think about her words all night. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep on my last night on earth.
I think about how the aesir treat us—pets, she said.
But she’s wrong. I watched my parents, and they loved their aesir fiercely.
They did everything they were asked, and their bonded aesir cared for them, too.
They chose to bond the children of the sky.
They had families. They found many moments of joy. Small, we may always be, but we are valuable among the aesir, and until the vanir are vanquished, earth children will never really be safe.
I spend the final hour before dawn working on the forms with my heavier blades. It’s slightly different, but my arms have been sufficiently strengthened thanks to my constant training.
Freja thought she was training me so I could defend myself on the battlefield.
She did it because the presence of her bonded human will strengthen her.
What she didn’t know was that I was really training to prepare myself for taking my own life.
When I sheathe my new blades, the sound of their entry into the hard leather scabbard like the whoosh of the wind past our cavern, I close my eyes and imagine how it will feel.
The blade, sliding into my body—aimed right for my heart.
It will be quick.
At least it will be quick.
Gorm’s already waiting when Freja and I finally wing our way down to the gathered vanir.
As you all know, the aesir are about to begin their annual hunt for new brights.
They make it into a party, pretending that they care for the earth children.
Bjorn scoffs. The idiotic earth children actually believe that ridiculous propaganda, so they’ll all be gathered.
We steal all the ones we can, and then we destroy as many aesir as possible.
Freyr snatches Gorm in one claw. He’s never allowed my brother to ride. That would imply a relationship between them other than master-slave. You’ll keep heier with your slave. He doesn’t wait for Freja to agree. He simply leaps into the air.
As usual, Bjorn isn’t coming with us. He almost never leaves Vanaheim. He says he draws his strength from its walls, but I think it’s something else. I think he’s afraid of something else. He does open a portal for his children to lead their forces through.
The air of our home slaps me in my face.
I hate the dry, never-ending heat of Vanaheim.
The lush, gusty cold weather of ásgarer is like a balm to my broken heart. If I’m going to die anyway, I’m happy it will happen here. Maybe my parents will even be able to locate my and Gorm’s bodies. As soon as they see us, the aesir spring into action.
The flashes of the mighty strike blessed surge into the air on our east side. The terrifying cries of the water blessed rise up as they burst from the ocean waves, blowing ocean spray with their mighty wings as they flank us on the south.
But Odin, unlike his cousin Bjorn, doesn’t hide. No, Odin and his wife Frigg take to wing as well, their brilliant crimson scales flashing in the rays of the setting sun. The sight fills me with pride and hope.
With such warriors fighting for the earth children, how could the vanir prevail? I wish we knew why the vanir always seem stronger in each fight. No one’s quite sure, but we fear it may be the way they treat their ensnared humans.
The vanir don’t wait for the aesir to mount a defense. The tiny moon vanir scatter, using their magic as well as they can to keep the aesir from being able to see their opponents.
You can’t attack what you can’t see.
And the storm vanir bring the wind to bear, buffeting the strike and water blessed to and fro, forcing their lightning and water attacks to fly wild.
But it’s Freja and Freyr who face off with Odin and Frigg.
Just before Odin can flame them, Freyr drops Gorm.
Freja veers off and dives straight down, snatching Gorm out of the sky and arrowing toward the gathered earth children.
Their goal, after all, is to steal their much-needed brights, and also to simultaneously teach the aesir a lesson: they can’t protect the weaklings.
Only sky children matter.
Gorm catches my eye, and then I see a single tear fly from his cheek. I’ll always love you. He’s smiling when he drags a dagger across his own throat. I force myself to watch as he dies.
In that moment, Freja screams.
Because Odin and Frigg saw us, they know why we’re here—they know what we know. This is their moment. There’s never going to be a better time for the aesir to deal a terrible blow to the vanir than right now.
Freja realizes what Gorm’s done and drops him. His eyes have only just gone dull when he falls, limp like a rag doll. His body slams into the brights below like a rock hitting a smooth pool. The earth children fall, several crushed by my brother’s body.
And now it’s my turn.
But before I can follow in his path, I notice what’s happened.