Page 121 of A Curse Carved in Bone
I ripped away a rock, then sucked in a breath at the sight of pale scarred fingers smeared with dirt. Still fingers.
No.
All the world fell away. Nothing else mattered but getting her out of the ground. Having her in my arms. But above all else, her still drawing breath.
“Freya!” I roared. “I’m here!”
Her arms were free, limp, and my fingers caught in her tangled hair as I struggled to expose her face.
She was so still.
Her face was cleared now, eyes closed. Someone was screaming. I was screaming. Struggling to pull her free, Geir and the others digging around her body.
Then she was in my arms.
Her skin was cold.
I’d lost her. Lost my heart as surely as I’d cut it out of my chest. “Please, Freya,” I pleaded, holding her close. “Do not make me walk alone.”
Then she stirred and sucked in a ragged breath, blinking up at me with dirt-crusted eyelashes. “Bjorn?”
All around me were people, living and undead, but I saw nothing but Bjorn. Nothing but his muddy cheeks streaked with tears and his hands with so much blood.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to mine. “Never do that to me again.”
If I had my way, I’d never go back to that place. Not even in death. “Harald is dead. I killed him with your axe.”
Bjorn blinked. “How…”
“It’s a long story better told with a cup of mead in hand.”
Geir stood back from us, and though it was hard to tell given how much of his face was now missing, I swore he was smiling.
“You did it, sister,” he said. “You united not just Skaland, but Nordeland along with it, and defeated the trickster who sought to twist all our fates. All skalds will sing of your story, for it is one to be passed down through generations to come.”
Once, that had been my dream. But now I dreamed of different things.
“You fought with honor at my side.” My voice was rough, and my mouth tasted like dirt. “You have earned a place in Valhalla, brother. I would release you to join the Allfather unless there is something else that you would do before you leave the mortal realm?”
Geir shook his head. “Take care of my family for me. Tell them my stories.”
“I will,” I promised. “They are mine to protect until I follow you to Valhalla. Have a cup waiting for me.”
Geir nodded, then pulled his sword and lifted it into the air, all the other Skalander draug doing the same with their weapons as they approached from the shadows. Men and women that I’d killed as enemies, brought back as allies, but now released as friends. My brother shouted, “Honor to Skaland! Honor to the shield maiden! Honor to Freya Born-in-Fire!”
My army screamed his words in their awful voices, and my heart swelled with pride to have fought alongside them. “I release you.”
Bodies crumpled to the earth all around me, mist swirling on the wind, a charge sharpening the air. Then they were gone.
My brother was gone.
Sorrow filled my chest, for though Geir had been dead for many days, he had still been with me. Had been a stalwart presence at my side. We’d reconciled our differences, and I grieved for the lost chance to live as a family without conflict between us. To watch him become a father. Twin tears carved their way down my cheeks, brown with mud as they dripped onto Bjorn’s shoulder.
“You’ll see him again,” Bjorn said. “He earned his place and he’ll be waiting for you.”
I believed that. Believed that the Allfather would want Geir in his army at the last battle and that, one day, I’d have the chance to fight alongside my brother once more.
But the afterlife would not reunite us with everyone we’d lost.
