Dead Embers (22 page)

My gaze followed the direction of his hand. I stepped away,
then hesitated, unsure of where to go; I saw no doorway, no room that ran off
the hall.

"Follow Thor," Sigrun whispered in my ear. I threw
her a grateful glance, dragging my eyes away from the visitors to focus on
Thor's retreating back.

***

Thor led the way to a small alcove built into the far wall,
hidden so well that it looked very much part of the carvings on one of the
hall's many gigantic pillars. A set of doors opened out onto a torch-lit
balcony, which looked out toward the valley and the training fields. A slight
twinge of guilt twisted within my gut; it had certainly been a while since I'd
last visited the fields. I'd gotten special treatment again, allowed to go to
Midgard as part of the scout team without proper training.

Waist-high stone pillars spaced a foot apart protected the
balcony, miniature versions of the gigantic pillars within the hall, so similar
to the ones in Valhalla, which seemed to hold up the roof itself.

Thor reached the balustrade first and waited. As I drew
close, I found my attention drawn to the god beside me. When the silence began
to stretch beyond comfortable, I cleared my throat and looked away, hoping the
encroaching shadows hid my reddened cheeks. Thor was just too easy on the eyes,
and he knew it. "So, what do you have to tell me?" I asked.

"I have a very good idea what could help you save your
Warrior, Aidan, and now the daughter of the Nidhogg, too." Now it was Thor
who stared off into the distance, his eyes inscrutable, though I suspected he
wasn't really looking at anything within the valley.

I waited, and before long he spoke again. "The legend
of Swartelfheim tells of the Blood Goblet of the Dwarf Queen Huld."

"Dwarf queen? I thought the dwarfs were led by the men
of their kind?" I recalled the tales of the tough and manly dwarf kings.

"For a long time, yes, that was the case. But a few
hundred years ago, the dwarf queen had her fill of playing the quiet wife. She
orchestrated the death of her husband and took over the kingdom."

"She killed her husband?" I didn't realize I'd
voiced my disbelief until Thor responded.

"Yes, she had to. Dwarfs are notoriously stubborn, and
if imprisoned or exiled, King Brokk would have tried to take back the throne
over and over again. So she used the one method guaranteed to kill him:
exposure to sunlight." Thor grinned as my jaw dropped, and I hurriedly
closed my mouth. "Sunlight has the remarkable ability to turn a dwarf into
stone. And now that the King is dead, there is nobody who would dare go against
the queen."

"Does she not have sons . . . heirs to the
throne?"

"Yes, in fact she has two sons. Neither will inherit her
throne while she lives." A chill edged Thor's words as he glanced at me.
"Her sons have new roles within the dwarf kingdom. They guard the entrance
to Swartelfheim."

"So, all these years, why have her sons not at least
tried?"

"The queen has them controlled. I am unsure what her
strategy is. Guilt, perhaps. Or maybe they do not want to lose the only family
they have. Or lose their only link to the throne."

I raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to go to this
witch and ask her very nicely if she would lend me the goblet?"

Thor's next words chilled my blood. "No. I am asking
you to go to Swartelfheim and kill Queen Huld."

My heart thudded so loud in my ears that I heard nothing
else but the rhythmic pounding of utter shock. I must have heard him wrong.
"You're kidding, right?" I asked, but the cool expression on his face
said it all. He wasn't kidding. "Why do I have to kill her? Surely there
is an easier way?"

"I understand your concern, Valkyrie, but there is no
other way to retrieve the goblet. It is the life of your Aidan and the
dragon-child for the life of Queen Huld." His eyes were inscrutable, his
expression so emotionless that in that moment he lost all his sexy charm and
became, instead, a being filled with deep and dark secrets. He was, after all,
a god.

I remained silent, quelling any urge to refuse, any need to
say no. One life in exchange for two was a no-brainer. Thor placed a hand on my
shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. "There is one more thing,
Brynhildr. It is important for you to understand whom you are dealing with.
Huld is impossibly strong. She is sustained by the power of the goblet, and by
the power of her dead husband."

Great. Always a catch, isn’t there?

Thor continued, ignoring the scowl on my face. "Huld
made one mistake. She had poisoned the king's grog, but dwarfs are notoriously
hard to kill. He fought back, but in his weakened state he could not defend
himself against the queen's sword. She drew blood several times, allowing it to
mix with the black sand of the realm. After the battle, she melted the sand in
the intense heat of the forge, making it malleable, and formed it into an
exquisite crystal goblet."

"Why would she do such a thing?"

"We cannot claim to understand the mind of the queen.
Perhaps it was a way to show her strength. What we do know is that the queen
uses the goblet as a message to anyone who would dare to challenge her
reign."

"How does she do that? What kind of power can a goblet
have?" I narrowed my eyes at the beautiful god, hoping he'd get to the
point sometime soon.

"Huld uses the goblet as a reminder to her subjects of
her status and her power. All her subjects know what the goblet is made from.
And the queen regularly performs a ceremonial drinking from the goblet."
Thor paused, and I could have sworn the silence was only for dramatic effect.
"Little does she realize that every time she sips a liquid from the
goblet, she sips at her husband's power. And King Brokk . . . well, the King of
Swartelfheim's power is not something one should mess with. When you meet her
you will see what the dark power has done to Queen Huld. Some say she is
deserving of her punishment."

The god removed his hand, and I almost did a double take.
The tingly warmth of his palm had been on my shoulder all this time, and I
hadn't noticed?

"You must retrieve the goblet, and you must kill the
queen." He paused, rubbing his chin, and added, "If you are able to,
I suggest you decapitate. Dwarfs are strong and fast-healing, and their tunnels
are extensive. You may need to walk far to bring her body to the sun."

"I don't have a choice in the matter, then?" My
words clanged the sound of my own death knell.

Thor glanced at my face, his blond hair glinting in the
torchlight, while shadows deepened the hollows of his jaw and the sympathy in
his eyes. "No, Bryn, unfortunately in this instance there is no choice.
The goblet is kept in the queen's chamber. It will be nearly impossible to
steal it and escape the realm without her learning who you are. Once she knows
you have taken her treasure, if she does not die, she will track you down and
kill you. Dwarfs, whether male or female, are innately vengeful creatures. And
you do not want the wrath of the queen to be upon you."

I crossed my arms. "Fine, then. I'll do what I have
to." I spoke the words almost angrily, not entirely sure I'd go through
with it. When had I become an assassin for hire? When the time came, surely I’d
find a way to avoid the whole head-chopping, killing situation. But I kept my
thoughts to myself.

"Good." He fiddled with something at his waist,
but then he thrust his empty arms out toward me. I was beginning to think that
Thor was a little soft in the head. "There is something you will
need." Thor held his arms higher, offering them to me. I frowned. Was the
god Thor offering me a 'cuddle moment' after telling me to kill some evil
queen? Or was he taking the Mickey out of me? I didn't dare to question his
actions though.

My arms tensed, and I was just about to hug him back, a
little afraid of offending him by brushing him off. But then he laughed, as if
my confusion were somehow amusing. I should have been angry, but I was way more
relieved. I'd been a breath away from making a darned fool of myself in front
of a god.

Thor moved an arm, flicked a finger somewhere above his
other arm . . . and then there it was, appearing as if out of thin air. A
beautiful black cloak, as glossy as a pool of liquid night, lay draped over his
hands.

"You will need this to get past the guards."

"Guards? You mean the sons of the queen?"

Thor nodded. "They work on a rotation schedule,
relieving each other every few hours or providing backup in case of emergency.
You will need to use this to get inside." He held the cloak out, just
inches from me, the light now throwing pools of gloss into the dark fabric.

"What is it?" I hesitated, still unsure exactly
what it was for. Beautiful, glossy black cloak, yes, but how would it help me
hide from the dwarfs?

"This is Tarnkappe, the Cloak of Darkness. It has been
used many times in the past, for many reasons. I think this is a situation that
demands its services."

I took the sweeping cloak, bracing against its solid weight
in my hands. For a simple garment, it was pretty darned heavy. A spurt of
hysterical laughter surged through me, and though I tamped it down, I just
couldn't control the giggle that sprang out of my mouth. What the hell was
this? A magic show?

"I see you find me amusing?" Thor grinned as if he
really did share my mirth.

"No, it's not that." I shook my head. I had to
look away from him to gather my tangled thoughts. It was all so impossible, so
improbable. And yet it was all so real. I stared out into the mesmerizing
distance, where miniature mountain peaks lay covered in a loving layer of
winter white.

"I see. Brynhildr, all this—Asgard, the wings, losing
your beloved—it must not be easy. There is a lot to digest," Thor said,
his voice soft and easily snatched by a passing breeze.

I managed an automatic nod, a bit out of my depth with an
actual god attempting to help make me feel better, but still very touched that
he bothered at all. In the greater scheme of things, I wasn't all that
important. The approaching great war of Ragnarok reduced most problems to minor
ones in the face of the greatest battle ever, a battle that would bring the
world to its end.

"I didn't mean to laugh. It's just that . . . Asgard,
Valhalla, Ulfr, everything . . . even the whole Valkyrie thing has been a lot
to absorb. And this cloak . . ." A sigh escaped my lips. I ran my fingers
over the silky darkness. "It just made me realize how easily I've accepted
everything that should have been ridiculous and unbelievable and
impossible."

Thor's grin widened. "It comes easily to those who are
made for Asgard," he said. Then the smile disappeared, replaced by a
somber, grey scowl. "You will need to take extra care, Brynhildr. This
journey you are taking is one that guarantees danger. Your life may be at stake
many times, and there is one piece of advice that is paramount."

Thor placed his hands on my shoulders with a gentle
intensity that forced me to look up at him. An alarming urgency filled his next
words. "Do not trust anyone. And I mean anyone."

I frowned, confused and worried. How could I not trust
anyone? To begin with, I wasn't the most trusting person, but considering the
importance of my impending assassination attempt, surely I'd need help. Which
would mean I'd have to place my trust in someone. I shrugged Thor's hands off
my shoulder, and he released me with just the merest hint of a raised golden
eyebrow. "So does that include you?" I demanded. "You've just
told me to penetrate the home of the queen of the dwarfs and kill her. Maybe
it's you I shouldn't trust. Maybe I should be questioning your motives." I
narrowed my eyes and waited, more than annoyed with his contrary advice.

"You are a very wise person, Valkyrie Brynhildr."
Thor stepped back and nodded his approval. "I do not want you to allow
anyone to control or direct your decisions. Neither should you allow yourself
to be betrayed. Do what you need to do, but take the greatest care with whom
you keep close."

I cradled the cloak close to my chest. Thor grinned once
again, then bent at the waist, executing a small bow. He left me alone on the
balcony.

The sky had begun to darken, a deep sea blue escaping into
the inky darkness of night. In the distance, the aurora borealis swirled and
twisted in the sky, heralding the mortal death of Odin's newest Warriors, the
courageous dead who lived again to serve the All-Father.

I sent a twisted prayer for their souls to remain safe until
they reached the safety of Valhalla.

Thor's footsteps echoed as he retreated, leaving me with
just the gloaming sky and the thoughts of murder and dead kings for company.

I retreated from the balcony soon enough, morbid
contemplation and icy night urging me back into Odin's Great Hall. I slowed my
steps as I passed through the now-silent hall, savoring the peace of the
ancient room. Sigrun, Mika and the others were nowhere to be seen. Flickering
torchlight reflected against the gigantic carved doors at the far end of the
hall, filtering in from the passageways.

A sudden grumble disturbed the silence, startling me. I did
a double take, eyes stabbing the shadowed corners of the huge room. Then I
laughed out loud as the rumble of my empty stomach came again, this time louder
and more insistent. Now that I was back in Asgard, my appetite had returned
with a vengeance.

But first, I hurried to my room to hide the cloak,
preferring not to have to explain to anyone why I was in possession of such a
rare magical object. A large wooden sword box sat beside my bed, given to me by
Njall when he'd bestowed me with the sword of the legendary Valkyrie Brunhilde.
I traced the ancient runic writings and the intertwining branch designs smothering
the polished wood, and smiled. Njall, with his generous hugs and his honesty,
had been one of the highlights of my first few days in Asgard. When he looked
at me, his eyes held no judgment, no expectation. He liked me for me, and I
liked that very much.