Chapter 30
Freya leans back in her chair, her jaw clenched tightly. Odr curses under his breath, his head shaking from side to side. The black strands remind me of raven’s wings.
“We have to tell her,” he says to Freya. She rubs the bridge of her nose and heaves a sigh.
I take a step towards them but freeze. Tell me what?
Freya cracks open an eye and grimaces. “Have a seat, Lena.”
Her voice carries all the weight and authority of the goddess she is. But I ignore the order, crossing my arms over my chest.
I am so fucking sick of people keeping things from me.
“No.”
Shock has Odr whipping his head to me. Apparently, that isn’t a word they hear too often.
But Freya merely nods. She clears her throat, looking for all the world that this is the worst news I’ll ever hear. “All the gods and goddesses are missing.”
My head tilts to the side of its own accord. I don’t understand. “What do you mean, all?”
“Odin isn’t the only god who is missing,” she says each word with caution. “Badb, Morrigan, Danu, and Tyr. They are all gone.”
Those words I do understand. Dread pools in my stomach. Ice cold fear slices through my chest.
And I’m breaking. This is what breaking apart feels like. The world shudders and I grip onto the bench for support.
“How?” I barely manage to choke out the word.
Odr shrugs. “We don’t know. We only realized they all were missing after we couldn’t reach Odin and then the fates began whispering of war.”
“So you’re telling me we’re about to be in the middle of a multi-realm war and we don’t have any other gods or goddesses on our side?”
Freya shakes her head and the white locks ripple with the movement. “You see why it is of paramount importance that you begin your training. Between this realm, ours, and a few of our allies we have been able to reach—we’re on our own.”
My stomach twists into knots, tying my ability to breathe up with it. We’re up against entire armies of monsters and creatures from my worst nightmares—and we’re all alone.
“But we don’t stand a chance?” My voice trembles along with my legs.
Odr nods grimly, his hand reaching out to grasp Freya’s. Her eyes become vacant as her shoulders droop.
“We don’t have a choice.”
With nothing left to do—I pace. My feet striking roughly against the stone helps to keep me centered. But my mind spins. I try my best to practice mindfulness, but not even Torin’s masterful trick can help me now.
They sit in silence, allowing me time to wrap my mind around everything this means. How hilarious this moment is in relation to the last time I paced the terrace. Then it was learning the solution to our magic problem, now—it’s our doom.
We’re going to die. All of us.
I feel like a cliff standing against the rising shore. With each passing wave, more of me is eroded away. Eventually, I’ll have nothing left, right?
As my mind continues to spiral, thoughts of the human realm surface. All of those helpless people, the children, and we’re all that stand in the way of their suffering and demise.
Hope. We need some hope.
“So what do we do?” I ask, coming to a stop in front of them. My legs still bouncing as the stress continues to assault me from the inside.
“We fight.” Freya squeezes her hands into fists. “It’s all we can do.”
“Obviously, but I meant right now. Shouldn’t we warn everyone?”
“That we’re going into war alone?” Odr asks, raising a brow. “Absolutely not.”
Something about this feels wrong. We should be transparent about this, shouldn’t we?
But if they decide not to fight, they’re all dead anyway…
The smell of cedar and rain washes over me, and I inhale as Lachlan appears beside me.
“Is everything okay?” The warmth of his body next to mine soothes the anxiety that slithers under the bombshell that has leveled our entire future.
Freya and Odr look at me. I’m frozen for a moment, the options laid out before me. I turn to Lachlan, and my hands tremble. There’s only one right thing to do.
“They’re all gone.”
I hear sharp sighs of disapproval.
My hair slides across my face in the breeze as I turn to them. “I don’t know how you do things in your kingdom, but in mine, I put things up for a vote.”
Lachlan’s hand finds mine. “Who is gone?”
I swallow past the burning in my throat. “It’s not just Odin that has vanished. It’s Badb, Morrigan, Danu, and Tyr.”
Lachlan reels back, his brow lowering as he frowns. “It’s worse than we thought.”
“Way worse.” My words are barely more than a whisper. “We have to tell the others.”
“There’s more.” Freya’s voice cuts through my plotting.
“More?” Lachlan spits, spinning to her. My hand tugs against his as I pull him to a stop, keeping him close to me.
“The prophecy?” I ask.
Odr looks at Freya as she speaks. “It is—about you.” She looks at him. “You were right. We should tell her.” Her attention shifts back to me. “You are the queen of the prophecy.”
“What prophecy?” Lachlan’s attention jumps between me and Freya.
“The one on the table. That says ‘a queen of two worlds shall rise up and lead.’ But that’s all it says.”
Freya stands, her wings appearing. The iridescent white feathers are more magnificent in the sunlight than when I first saw them in the throne room.
“That’s not completely true. Long ago, it was whispered that the war would begin and end with the arrival of the true queen.
” Her gaze sweeps along me from head to toe.
“And that yes, she would be of two worlds, but that her fate would determine the survival of ours.”
Well, that part is new.
“What fate?” I whisper.
“We don’t know.”
Lachlan’s voice lowers, “Ye dinna ken?”
“The sorceress who prophesied it died before finishing. We only know that a queen would be born of two people. The only two peoples that could ally together to keep evil from sweeping across the universe. I believe those were the very answers your parents were searching for before they got pregnant with you.”