Page 72 of Valkyrie Unknown

In both the bakery and bar that my searching led me to, TVs played twenty-four hour news in the background, images of the city around me flashing on the screens as well. Images flashed up of a blond woman and a dark-haired man. They were wanted for questioning.

Was that who I was searching for as well? If so, they were safer if law enforcement found them first.

I tracked the scent to a downtown hotel whose entrance was blocked off by police and yellowKeep Outtape. I wanted to get in there, but I’d wait until there were fewer people around. Bear Berserkers weren’t made for stealth.

The smell of the person from our apartment led me to an alley not far away, and it was strongest here. Most recent. So was the stench of gunpowder and berserker blood.Starkad.

And Valkyrie. This time it was unmistakable.

None of that mattered, aside from the fact they were with the person who had been in our apartment. One of them may have an idea where Azzie was.

They’d all left though. The trail changed here, because they’d gotten into cars and driven away.

I didn’t have any other leads to follow. Despite the fact that the sun had set, and my leads were growing cold, I had no choice but to follow. Without any other hints, what else was I supposed to do?

Twenty

Zeke

I heldAzzie’s blade in the light of the lamp above my forge worktable, tilting it this way and that, to catch the reflection at different angles. The grinds were done. If I ran the edge along my arm, it was sharp enough to shave off hairs. The only things left to do were enchant the steel and attach it to her grips.

Neither was a task that could be stopped in the middle and walked away from, so both would have to wait until tomorrow. Correction, later today. I had to squint through bleary eyes to see the clock on the far wall, but I was certain the numbers said it was after two in the morning.

I locked the blade away for the night.

When I was finished with the work, then what? We’d agreed to stick together, but it wasn’t as if she and her mysterious Berserker could move in. I didn’t have the space, and for all I knew they wouldn’t appreciate some of my clients.

The dull ache of eyestrain throbbed in my skull and pain spiked in my neck.

Questions to deal with in the morning. Possibly the early afternoon.

I stood and the world tilted, my forge swimming in front of my eyes. What the?—

Why did the side of my face hurt?

And my hand.

My head was killing me.

I forced open my eyes, despite the pounding protest in my skull.

Why was I laying in the dirt in the field behind my house?

As I pushed myself upright, I unclenched my hand. The joints in my fingers protested, and a series of raw stinging sensations bled over my palm as a stick fell to the ground.

My attention was on what was in front of me though—the soil was packed down, and vast lines decorated it. A sketch of some sort. Intricate and covering a space at least the size of two cars.

What the fuck? Did I draw that?

Images flashed in my mind, more like still snippets than movie. Me stumbling in this direction. Grabbing the closest drawing instrument I could find. Gouging the ground with the stick.

Yeah, apparently I drew that. But what was it?

The sky was gray now, rather than black, and a sliver of paler light sliced over the eastern horizon. How long was I out here?

Patting myself down, I found my phone in my front pocket. It was almost six in the morning. More than three hours were gone. The pain and the realization made my gut churn. I needed to get home.

I took several photos of the drawing, then erased it with my shoes. No one else should see that, though I couldn’t say why not.

---