Dead Radiance (17 page)

Wow.

***

They were simply magnificent. Of varying dark colors, they were solidly muscled and moved with a liquid grace. Despite the mud and solid clumps of soil mixed with upturned sods of grass, the Sleipnir seemed to have magically avoided the mess and came away clean and gleaming.

The wolves, on the other hand, weren't that fortunate. Their mud-splattered, matted pelts gave them the look of your average drenched dog at bath time. I blinked many times, expecting the scene to disappear once I opened my eyes again.

Unbelievable.

"Come." Sigrun pulled my arm.

My gaze strayed behind me, back to the fascinating sight, but the pressure of Sigrun's grip on my arm forced me to move. I followed with a wistful sigh, walking along a stone wall until I stood at the open gate.

"Why did they leave the gate open? Won't the animals escape?" I regretted the question as soon as I'd asked it. Sigrun's face darkened at the word
animals
, and I knew I'd insulted her in some way. "I'm sorry. I . . ."

I wasn't exactly sure what I should say to make her feel better, nor did I understand what I'd said to offend her, but an apology seemed appropriate.

She brushed it off, though her face still retained a stiffness I'd never seen before. She said, "Do not worry about it. You have much to learn and we cannot get angry at you when you have no idea what you are saying."

Her gaze returned to the field where a rather large man stood near the fence, watching the melee within the grounds. As we approached, he turned and I swallowed, trying really hard not to faint.

He was not a man. Where his head should have been was the head of a wolf. A large, black-haired, toothy, scary wolf. At first I thought he was merely a bipedal wolf, but when he turned and waved at Sigrun he used a perfectly normal human hand. I desperately wanted to ask Sigrun what was going on and who this creature was, but it was too late. We were standing right beside him now, and all I wanted to do was to turn and make a run for it. My knees shivered, my wings fluttered in fear and my heart thumped faster than a freight train.

He smiled at Sigrun and glanced at me, curiosity gleaming within intelligent eyes.

Sigrun smiled back and blushed as she made introductions. "Fenrir, this is Brynhildr, our newest Valkyrie." The rosy color in her cheeks and the way her eyes widened made me wonder if my new friend had a crush on this monster. "Bryn, this is Fenrir, the General of the Ulfr Army," she said.

We shook hands and I managed not to grimace as my palm met his. Normal skin to normal skin. What had I expected? Oh yeah, claws and fur. I forced myself to meet his eyes and smile. Ms. Custer would be so proud of my impeccable manners. He smiled back with a toothy, still-scary grin.

But his eyes dropped to gaze at the amber jewel, which I hadn't been able to hide yet. His eyes lingered there. My father's gift attracted a constant stream of attention wherever I went.

A crash among the heaving bodies in the field drew his attention away. Relieved, I watched him lope back into the thick of bodies to attend to whatever mess the wolves and horses had created.

For the first time I recognized men among the animals. Men, dressed in reddish bronze chainmail similar to mine, who glowed a dull gold. Not the bright, blinding gold of Joshua or Brody, but a muted, angelic aura.

"What is this place, Sigrun?" Concern and unease stirred in my gut. "And what is this 'Ulfr' army?"

Sigrun had forgotten me in her silent adoration of Fenrir. She blinked, as if coming out a dream, and turned to me. "Oh, yes. The Ulfr are the wolves of Valhalla. They are the mounts of the Valkyries."

"But I thought Valkyries rode horses."

"A common Western misconception. We never ride Midgard horses, and only the highest ranked Valkyries are ever allowed the use of the Sleipnir." She nodded at the eight-legged horses prancing and dancing around the field. "They are the mounts of Odin. And gifted to the best of the Valkyrie Army. Most Valkyries travel with their Ulfr, but it is seen as far more acceptable for beautiful winged women to ride powerful horses than mangy wolves. Hence the modern perception." The anger in her voice was clear. It appeared that the modern telling of the ancient Norse legends did not sit well here in Asgard.

"Then why doesn't someone set them straight?" I asked. "Appear on a wolf and let the world know they are wrong."

Sigrun opened her mouth to answer, but a deeper voice spoke first. "Because Odin does not believe it is necessary to pander to the modern cultural need for beauty and acceptability," said Fenrir as he returned to the fence.

I sucked in a harsh breath. Looking up at him, I now knew why Sigrun was half in love with this man-beast. He approached us, his furred pelt and snout gone. Replaced by long dark hair that tugged at my tummy with its painful resemblance to Aidan's beautiful curls. He had the looks of a dark Adonis, only his eyes were a steel grey. A grey that matched, strangely enough, the beautiful metallic grey of Sigrun's feathers.

Fenrir was Asgard's answer to the werewolf.

***

One of the men marched over, eyes gleaming as his shoulders heaved beneath glittering mail. His skin shimmered as if the low flame of a candle flickered inside him. Spattered with mud, and marked with purpling bruises, he strode toward us, his brow furrowed in frustration. He gave us a nod, then pulled Fenrir aside to have what seemed like a fairly heated discussion.

I tapped Sigrun's elbow to get her attention. "And him? What is he? Why does he have that glow?"

I hadn't yet discussed my visions with Sigrun. Hadn't yet been confident enough to bare my fears and worries to my new friend. Even in a city that shouldn't exist, even when a pair of wings grew out of my back and even when I'd just been eyeball to eyeball with a real live wolf-man, what guarantee did I have that I wasn't imagining it all or going completely off my rocker?

She turned and looked at me. "Have you seen the aura before?"

My throat closed and all I could do was nod.

"When did it begin?" she asked, eagerness bright on her face.

"Ever since I was a little girl, actually. But it changed recently." When she waited in silence, I continued. "I started seeing the auras of people who ended up dead." The bleakness in my voice pretty much matched the way my heart felt when I thought of my inability to help those poor people.

"Then you are ready," she said firmly.

"Ready for what?"

"Ready for Retrieval," she replied.

I was getting impatient. All this cryptic implication annoyed the hell out of me. "Sigrun, can you just be straight with me, please. What is this glow? What does it mean? And what in heaven's name is Retrieval?"

She grinned and said, "The aura is only seen in a true Warrior. A Warrior worthy of the halls of Valhalla. A Warrior worthy of fighting for Odin. A Valkyrie looks for the people who glow and collects those people after they die. That is Retrieval."

"Oh yes, I remember. Valkyries collect the dead. . . ." I trailed off as I turned the facts over in my head. "But there were girls as well. I thought Valkyries collected only the bodies of great Warriors."

"Another misconception. Odin needs powerful Warriors to fight for him. He never would have demanded his Warriors be only men. Our women fight too; just look at all our Valkyries. They are just as strong as the men." Sigrun shook her head. "I think too many of the professors who think they know all about our history are men. You need some women to explain some of this to your men."

"You are probably more right than you realize." I smiled. Strange how spot-on this Valkyrie was in spite of being stuck here in Asgard, safe from the rolling machine of technology.

But now my thoughts turned to Aimee, driven to her death by a cancer so vicious it had eaten her alive. "What if someone dies of a disease?" I asked. "One of the girls was ill, really ill. She died of cancer."

"Then she would still come to Valhalla to fight. Her illness is of no consequence, as it ailed her while she was alive. All the Warriors come to Valhalla in their afterlife. Even if they had a limb removed, they would get it back." She nodded as I raised my eyebrows. "Yes, it is true. Although we retrieve the mortal remains, we are also retrieving the soul and the spirit. Both spirit and soul help to heal the body, and bring back both strength and power."

We continued walking, and I turned Sigrun's words over in my head. It made a funny sort of sense. But what about Brody?

"Sigrun." I touched her arm and turned her to me. "There was a little boy, about ten years old, who had the glow around him? What does that mean?"

"Oh. That means his Valkyrie never had the opportunity to retrieve him in his previous life. With every Warrior, if for some reason Retrieval does not occur within three moons of the day of death, the soul moves on to the next life. When that happens we just wait until we have the opportunity, probably within the first few years of the Warrior's life. Usually such a Warrior will have a very short life."

"But what happens when you retrieve him? He’s just a little boy. How can a small child be a Warrior in a battle?" I shook my head. It all sounded way too bizarre.

"He does not come to Valhalla in that form. He will revert to the form in which his soul lived in his previous life. The soul knows what shape and size would be appropriate for Valhalla. You see, the soul is intelligent. It knows what the Warrior needs. It is because of the soul that the body regenerates lost limbs, purges disease and strengthens itself for battle."

I had to admit it made sense, a sort of fantastical sense.

What I had to try to digest was that Brody was a Warrior of Valhalla, one of the chosen. He was now Odin's soldier and he would soon be here in Valhalla. Along with my other friends who'd glowed with such a painfully beautiful light, and then died.

My heart quickened, and I grabbed a fence post to steady myself. I would see Brody and Joshua and Aimee again.

Chapter 19

Sigrun kept me so busy, I didn't get much of a chance to think about my friends from Craven. Once she got over her surprise that I could already see the golden auras of the Warriors, she whisked me off the training field. Before we left, she threw Fenrir a parting command to be ready to instruct me during the Valkyries' training session the next morning. Fenrir, eyebrows raised in surprise, just nodded.

We returned to the castle and made our way to a huge hall filled with long tables. The tables in the large warm space slowly filled with small groups of people. My stomach growled, loud enough for me to look around in embarrassment. But the desperate level of my hunger went unnoticed in the bustling hall.

The aroma of cooked meat wafted through the room and twisted my stomach with incredible yearning. Sigrun pointed me to two empty seats and disappeared toward a trio of huge hearths. Monstrous pots hung over crackling flames, huge bouts of steam rising from them. Beside them, spitted beef and smaller cuts of meat roasted above the flames, dripping juices, which spat merrily in the heat of the coals.

Sigrun negotiated the tricky route, dodging around other Valkyries and Warriors, and managed to return safely to our table, bearing two wooden platters filled with meat and bowls of steaming, stewed vegetables.

She grabbed the seat beside me. "Here you go. Your first real meal in Asgard. Enjoy." Then she proceeded to eat with a fierce gusto terribly unfitting for such a demure and ladylike girl.

I hid a smile, savoring the rich juiciness of the meat and the tenderly cooked vegetables. And then, as if some magical mind-reader had cast his eye over me, a serving girl placed a goblet at my side. She disappeared before I could thank her. I swallowed, half-hoping it was the delicious Mead, but the liquid tasted more like a stale beer. Despite my disappointment, I drank deeply, grateful as it slid down my parched throat and quenched my thirst.

"So what's next on the agenda for me?" I asked between mouthfuls of the tender beef.

Sigrun swallowed a bite and said, "Training with Fenrir first thing in the morning."

"That's nice of him," I murmured, not too sure I liked the idea of being trained by the man who was a beast. Or was it the beast who was a man?

"No, the Valkyries and Warriors train through the day," Sigrun said. "Sometimes we train together but mostly we work within our regiments. Fenrir moves within the fields, going where he is needed. And tomorrow Fenrir will concentrate on you. All the new Valkyries get additional training to get them prepared. And you do have a lot to learn."

Cheerful dinnertime conversation rose and fell around us. The sound of camaraderie. I wondered how many of those around me had lived for hundreds of years. Wondered what it was like to live forever doing the same thing every day.

"So that's the timetable? Training, lunch, more training, bathe, then dinner?" It seemed like nothing much happened here besides fighter training, if that was the routine of the day.

Sigrun shook her head. "Not at all. Some days there are Retrievals. Other days we have sparring matches with the Warriors. If you belong to a scout team then you will leave Asgard for short periods of time." She drained her goblet.

"No time to rest then?"