Dead Chaos (27 page)

My heart thudded as I looked back, expecting to see Loki hot on our tail, but he wasn’t. The trickster god was falling from the sky, twisting and turning in the wind. He struggled to flap his wings to gain some upward momentum so he didn't hit the ground hard.

He smashed into the yard, barely avoiding impalement on splinter stone. On impact, the Loki-raven shattered into a million black feathers, which swirled and gusted in the wind that seemed to have picked up since Tyra had saved me.

Moments later the feathers cleared, all blown away, to reveal Loki lying sprawled on the ground, a hand to his bleeding neck. He was too far away for me to feel his rage, though. I shuddered, happy I was on my way home.

I wanted to sigh with relief, but wasn't sure if I should move at all. So I remained still until the dragon landed at the Bifrost entrance miles away from the castle. The place was deserted. Tyra circled a clear space, hovering as she deposited the four of us on the ground. She took extra care with Sigrun before landing gracefully on golden clawed feet. Overwhelmed and more than a little affected by the Jotunn poison, I hesitated, unsure how to get down.

For a moment I was so tired I just rested my head on the cold ground. I lay there for a few seconds, fighting the pull of venom-induced unconsciousness, then tried to get back to my feet. I didn't do a very elegant job and luckily Joshua came to my aid, grabbing my arm and helping me to stand. Tyra was too busy to notice me making a fool of myself.

In a shimmering of light, the gigantic bronze dragon transformed into the beautiful Lady Tyra, mother of the equally beautiful Steinn. I couldn’t hold back my cry of relief and gratitude.

"You came." I swayed as I spoke the words.

"Of course, I came." Tyra opened her arms and I could find no reason to rebuff her hug. She squeezed me tight then said, "And what more of a reason to come to your aid, Brynhildr, than to find you have retrieved my Heimdall from captivity. I owe you much, Valkyrie." Tyra held me away for a second, giving me a happy smile. What a difference that smile made to the usual stern dragon matriarch. A smile she also bestowed on Aimee and Joshua, who had both risen to their feet. Then it was gone and she was back to business. "Let us get going before Loki arrives. Despite his injuries, he will no doubt be desperate to get his balls back. And we need to hurry for Sigrun’s sake too." I let go, noting she didn't miss a thing. But I guess she’d had a dragon’s eye view of Loki’s and my entire interaction. A surge of mirth ripped through me at Tyra reference to Loki’s balls, but it was quickly dampened by her mention of Sigrun. I was terrified of losing her.

We waited only a moment for the Bifrost to open and stepped through the shimmering entrance. My head swam as we rode the bridge and I didn't dare close my eyes in case I lost consciousness. I wasn’t entirely sure what happened to a person who fainted on the Bifrost.

And I wasn’t about to find out.

***

We entered Asgard's transfer room, pain radiating through my body, heartbreak warring for place in my heart. I'd been thinking of Sigrun, hoping I hadn't seen what I thought I'd seen, hoping she hadn't died with us there beneath the lean-to rock in the yard of the Jotunnheim palace.

I must have needed support on the trip because I found Joshua holding onto me as we stepped into the room. Despite his support, the room still spun and I still felt a burning fever laying my body to waste. My knees no longer cared to hold me upright and I let go of Gungnir. The blood-tipped spear clanked as it fell on the stone, my sword clanging against the floor and sticking up at an odd angle.

I thought of Ara and Sigrun's Sleipnir. I’d almost forgotten about them.
I breathed and call them home, hoping my call to Sigrun’s mount would work.

Then darkness fed into my eyes, slowly blurring my vision. I blinked. Then nothing.

***

I opened my eyes, taking a deep breath as if no air had entered my lungs in years. Pain filtered through my body, bringing with it memories of the poison, and of my escape from Jotunnheim, and of Sigrun.

I scanned my surroundings; Eir's treatment room. My movement brought the goddess to my side. "Bryn, you must rest. Try not to move too much. We have manufactured an antidote which seems to be working well. A little too slow for my liking, but it is working. Sometimes I am not the most patient person." Eir shrugged and smiled.

"How did you make the antidote?"
The words rasped past dry lips and Eir immediately reached for a jug and a goblet. She poured and I licked my lips as I watched the Mead trickle into the goblet. I had to steel myself against snatching the goblet from the goddess’s hands and gulping the Mead down in one swallow.

Only when Eir continued talking did
I remember I'd asked her a question. "We used the arrow which Sigrun brought to Asgard." I frowned at Eir's diplomatic choice of words. Sigrun hadn't brought the spear. She'd arrived impaled by it.

A noise at the doorway drew Eir’s attention as I finished my drink and placed the goblet on the bedside table.
I still had a few questions for the goddess, but seeing my visitors, I knew I may have to ask them in the presence of Lady Tyra and Frigga, who now entered the room, expression and mood somber, their beautiful faces dark with worry and strain. When they saw I was awake, they smiled and hurried to my bed.

"
My dear Brynhildr, we are so glad you are well." Frigga hurried to my side and grabbed my hand and squeezed it, her warm fingers lending some heat to my chilled skin.

"We have been waiting for you to awaken. I know you are weak but there is much to be done." Tyra spoke as she drew close to the other side of the bed. Surrounded by two goddesses and the queen matriarch of the Nidhogg, I felt a little overwhelmed, weepy, by their caring for me. "I have something you need."

Tyra slipped her hands into her pockets and withdrew the two balls that Loki had taunted me with. They sat in her palms, so unreal, so terrifying.

I reached out for them and Tyra placed them in my hands.
They weighed my palms down, both equally heavy although the price to pay for each choice was vastly different. "Am I still expected to make a choice?" My throat was tight. I was suddenly terrified they would still expect a choice.

Frigga clicked her tongue. "Of course not, child. You keep the one with your wings and I will take the other one and place it somewhere safe. The only thing I ask is that you tell us everything that happened."

I held the glass ball in my hand, staring at the wings that seemed to hover inside. My mouth moved as I retold the entire story from the moment we arrived in Jotunnheim, the saving of Heimdall and Brody, the arrow to Sigrun's back, then the wait for someone to return through the Bifrost.

Frigga's face told me how hard it was to hear what happened to Sigrun.

"I was so terrified that Heimdall wouldn’t return, but I'm glad we stayed put. If we'd left, I think the Jotunn would have found us before we got to the Bifrost." My eyes met Frigga's as I prepared to ask the one question I was dreading. "Sigrun?"

The slight shake of her head, the tears in her eyes, they were enough to break my heart into a million pieces. I'd
held onto the slightest hope that I'd been wrong, that Sigrun had survived, that maybe Eir had managed to save her. A deathly chill crept over my heart. Even my tears iced over.

Frigga cleared her throat. "Brynhildr, what you did when Loki gave you those choices . . . the choice you made . . . few would have made such a difficult
decision."

"It wasn't so difficult." I said, my voice flat.

"That is what makes you so special, Bryn." I should have been grateful that she'd changed the subject, but I found I didn't really care. Frigga placed her warm hand on mine and folded my fingers over the ball. "Take back what is yours, Brynhildr."

I stared at the ball, my face unchanged, the effort to reflect my emotions in my facial expression just too much to bother with.
I didn't want to be touched either, and Frigga's hand on mine made me want to scream to be left alone. A strange lethargy was beginning to set in and I was grateful when Frigga drew me to my feet.

"Stand upright and let the ball fall at your feet. When it breaks, your wings will be returned."
Frigga inclined her head, grazing my face with a look of such kindness that my heart clenched. "And be careful. The poison has taken its toll on your body and you are still not yet in full possession of all your faculties."

I nodded and followed her instructions. When the ball hit the marble floor it shattered into millions of tiny pieces, which went flying in every direction to promptly disappear into thin air. A rush of energy mixed with pal
e smoke and loose feathers emanated from the spot in front of me and swept through the room, then returned in a pulsating wave to be sucked back up into nothing.

A warmth spread into my shoulders, running through my flesh and bone like lava, searing and melting me to nothing. I gasped and struggled to breathe as sweat beaded my brow and fire raced through my veins. This time I had no Mead to take the edge off the agony. This time, if I wanted my wings, I had to embrace the pain.

I sank to my knees; my limbs unable to hold up my weight. Now my legs and thigh muscles quivered, threatening to fall from beneath me, but I struggled to stay where I was. Frigga and Tyra watched, their faces twisted with concern.

Fire raced through my veins; pure unadulterated agony scourged its way to my shoulders and what was left of my wings: two small lumps of bone, smoothed down so they no longer resembled bones.

Searing flames gripped my shoulders, the unbearable heat convincing me my bones were melting. I could have sworn I felt them pulse and twist at my back. Sweat now dripped along my hairline and down my back, the shirt at my neck and chest now clinging to my skin, soaked with perspiration.

I gasped for breath, suddenly frantic that I couldn’t breathe at all, my lungs protesting as I tried to force air into my nostrils — a hoarse sound echoing around the cave as I struggled to breathe.

Panic.

I couldn't panic.

There was no time for that, and I had no idea what would happen should I pass out from the pain or from lack of oxygen. The last time I'd done this, I'd had Sigrun at my side, not to mention a hall full of Valkyrie sisters for support.

And then, just as I began to see spots of light at the edges of my darkening vision, air surged into my lungs, as if a dam had just burst open, flooding me with relief as I sucked in oxygen as if each gulp were my very life's breath.

Preoccupied with my struggle to breathe, I almost missed the sudden surge of pure agony that blasted through the bones at my shoulders. This time I nearly did faint from the searing pain, from sheer exhaustion battling against the never-ending waves of pain.

Yet not for a moment did I question if my wings were worth this agony. Not for a moment. I'd go through worse to have them back. Despite my preoccupation with my pain, through teeth gritted against the constant waves of agony, I acknowledged how intrinsically linked I'd become to my wings. I'd grieved for their loss, but their impending return gave me such strength to battle the pain I knew beyond any doubt I couldn't live without my wings.

I'd never ever feel normal without them.

In the next moment, air gusted behind me and something hard and heavy thrust out of my shoulders. I gasped and fell forward, a heavy weight bearing me down.

I lay on the floor, cheek pressed against cold, marble tile. I blinked and breathed, then lifted my head. Both Frigga and the dragon queen knelt beside me. Frigga brushed the hair from my forehead. "There is no rush, child. Lie there and rest for a while."

A weight pulled at my shoulders. I knew my wings were there but though I was grateful I finally had them back, only a tiny part of me was able to rejoice — Sigrun’s face swam before my eyes, a vicious reminder of my loss.

The rest of me writhed in the arms of grief.

I pushed myself up and leaned forward a little, adjusting automatically to the returned weight of my wings. Back on my feet, my knees shivered and I pitched to the side, stepping quickly to regain my balance.

"Bryn, you need to rest." Lady Tyra laid a hand on my arm. "Your wound needs time to heal, and your body really does need to recover from the poison. Not to mention the trauma of receiving your wings."

"No. I need to see Sigrun."
My tone was firm but emotionless, and all three women would be in no doubt as to how I felt.

"I really do think you should wait a while. Just until you have a little more strength." Eir cam
e to my side as well, her brow furrowed, her eyes dark.

I shook my head even though the mere action hurt. "No. I have to see her…" I should have known better though. I needed rest and my body refused to listen to my demands. It showed me who was boss as a haze of exhaustion washed over me, plunging me into unconsciousness.

I awoke much later, my eyes popping open, Sigrun the first thought on my mind. I sat up slowly, grateful my head didn’t spin, happy to note my muscles seemed rested and supple.

"Ah, I see you have awakened." Eir came to me, a gentle smile on her pale face.

"I want to see her now." I kept my gaze on the door, not daring to be directly disrespectful in my defiance.

"Of course, my dear. I think you have rested enough."
Eir nodded and helped me get to my feet. I walked slowly to the door even though I had no idea where I was going. Then I just walked out of the room without a backward glance.

***