Page 62 of Valkyrie Unknown

The words sounded off and I looked up long enough to study Azzie. She was telling the truth, but something was missing from her story. “So you just closed your eyes and here you were?”

“I have an associate who’s good at learning things and putting pieces together. Including snippets of rumors about where blacksmiths who work on magical blades can be found. She got me your location, but couldn’t find a name for me.”

That checked out. Names were as valuable as currency for some people, which meant most didn’t use them freely. “And that just happened to bring you tome? The person you’re destined to kill.”

“No such thing as coincidences, right?” Her fingers twitched on the table, as if she was fighting making a fist. “Technically it doesn’t say which one of us will do the killing.”

I might as well get this part out of the way. “Yeah, but here’s the thing. Whatever kind of power they’re promising, I don’t want the job.”

“What?” The shock in her retort surprised me and so did her stunned look. “The things that gods can do? The people they could help? How do you not want that?”

Easy. “I was raised around people who wanted and worshiped power. Being average was a moral failing and there was always a drive to be more. To be better. Not better than tomorrow than they were the day before, but to be better than the people around them.”

“That’s not what this is about.” Azzie sounded offended.

I shrugged. “Maybe not for you, and in that case good for you.”

“Gods can make a difference.” She slammed the heel of her boot against her stool, causing a thump. “They don’t. They hold themselves above everyone else, as if they weren’t fucking born into their place in the world. Like they did something special to deserve worship, and they do nothing. Most of them are thousands of years old, and they’re still fucking children. They could make a difference, and they don’t. I won’t be that.”

The passion in her reply was tinged with hatred and determination. When I looked at her, for a moment I swore a soft halo shone around her.

It was the sunlight streaming through the barn doors.

She sounded sincere, though.

“If anyone can do it, it’s you.” I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did. “I make a difference in other ways, so if you want the job it’s yours. You don’t have to fight me for it.”

I shouldn’t trust this woman I’d only known for a few hours, who believed she was fated to kill me, but I did. She was supposed to be the literal death of me, yet I couldn’t find a reason to feel threatened.

Maybe it was stupid of me to listen to that instinct, but if I couldn’t trust my own thoughts I’d go insane. I looked up at Azzie. “I need to focus on recreating this pattern. Watch my back?”

She nodded. “Always.”

Why did that single word sound like more of a promise than any I’d been given in my life?

I grabbed a pencil and my sketch pad, and fell into the work of drawing out the runes that were on her blade. Getting a feel for the shape and intent, and the magic that radiated from them. I lost track of time and the world when the focus consumed me.

When I looked up, the sunlight bleeding into the room had shifted and the air was cooler. Azzie had her head tilted to the side, and she was studying my work.

Not that there was much to see. On the page, it looked like a series of basic, blocky lines. There was a nuance in the intent, though. The power came from the tiniest details.

She tensed. “Don’t move.” She was on her feet in an instant, hand falling to her hip.

The soft sound of a latch clicking came from behind me. Of the forge door being pushed open.Finn. He was back a few days earlier than expected.

A sword appeared at Azzie’s side, and she gripped the hilt.

Fucking—

“Don’t. He’s a friend.” I pointed at her, a threat in my voice I couldn’t possibly follow through with. We’d deal with the fact that she was still armed after I made sure the two of them didn’t fight.

I turned so I could still see her out of the corner of my eye, and watched Finn stride across the room, his attention fully on me.

“Welcome ba—” My greeting was cut short when he cupped my face between his hands and crushed his mouth to mine.

The kiss stole my breath and caught me off-guard. Not because it was a new sensation, and it was always an incredible one, but we didn’t have awelcome home smoocheskind of relationship.

When he broke away, I let out a grunt.

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