Page 65 of Valkyrie Confused

Ugh.I hate pop quizzes. I hold her gaze, praying my nerves don’t show. “Not much. They belong to Odin. They were gone for a while, but lately have been popping up again, and Odin wants them back.”

She works her jaw. She doesn’t like my answer?

“Odin’s beengone for a whiletoo. And we’re not his, to take back,” she says. So I was right; she doesn’t belong to him. “He created the original Valkyries. We were to collect the souls of fallen warriors and bring them to Valhalla.”

“But you didn’t like that.” Why did I have to say that?

Her grin is fierce but not threatening. Not to me, anyway. Odin might feel a little threatened. “I didn’t. Especially not when it came to Starkad. I spared him because I loved him. I healed him to the point of immortality. Odin took offense to that. He cursed me with a lot of death and resurrection, until I knew what being a Valkyrie really meant.”

I frown. “Which you apparently did.”

She leans back, as Pan sets two tall glasses of iced cappuccino topped with creamy froth in front of us. “Took me a while. I’ve died and been reborn several times since my first life, and Starkad never found me.” There’s a tiny hitch in her voice. “Not in time. Until now.”

“Because you’ve ascended.” Pan pulls out a chair beside me. He sits, and when his leg presses into mine, calm settles over my body.

Kirby uses the straw to mix her coffee but doesn’t drink. “I was recruited by The Order of the Mistletoe.TOMfor short, andrecruitedbeing a term they used for gathering orphans and training them to do their dirty work. Killing potential gods. Starkad was a trainer there.”

“So he became a bad guy?” I ask. Becauseof courseI’m more focused on the male love interest than the plot involving gods killing people.

She chuckles and sucks on her straw. “Mmm… you weren’t lying. This is excellent coffee,” she tells Pan, who preens. To me, she says, “He was a Berserker without a cause. Had nothing left to believe in. So when they offered him the chance to fight, he didn’t care who it was for. When they found me, he stayed on, to watch over me. And this time—”

She drops her gaze to the glass she’s now cupping with both hands. “Someone I loved betrayed me. It was bad enough that I… I ended things.”

“Wait. You died again?” Can I write a book about this?

“It didn’t stick. Starkad saved me and helped me run and hide.” Her lips twitch. “Anyway, I ascended to my full power, and we realized I wasn’t the only Valkyrie around. And the rest needed my help to reach their full potential.”

Wait. “I thought making Valkyries was Odin’s thing.”

“I can do it too, by sharing my power.” She shrugs one shoulder, like this isn’t a big deal, and has some more coffee.

I try mine too. It’s amazing, as per usual. What will I drink when Pan isn’t around to make me coffee?

Sadness dampens my excitement over the story Kirby’s been sharing. I don’t want him to not be around.

I don’t want Arnlaug to not be around, either, but the choice Kirby is no doubt here to present me with will drive at least one of the men away.

“So you came to find me,to help me ascend, so I’d join your side instead of Odin’s?” I ask.

She keeps sucking on the straw until the coffee is done, and then a little longer, making burbly sounds. “Yeah.” For the first time since she arrived, she seems less than certain of herself. “Arnlaug told Starkad that Odin is back and gathering his troops, and I—we—want to be prepared for that.

“I’m not going to ask you to throw away your life, although others may find you if you stick around. I will, however, ask that you come when we need you.” She looks at me pointedly. “And maybe that you train with us.”

Yes, yes. I’m too soft to be a Valkyrie. Why don’t they just let menotbe one, then?

But I find myself asking, “And you won’t go after Arnlaug?”

She shakes her head. “Only if I have to defend myself or those I love.”

I stand up slowly, though the screeching of the chair legs against the wooden floor spoils the dignified move I was going for. “I’m ready, then. Do me.”

Pan and Kirby chuckle, but they stop when I slam my palm on the table. “This isn’t funny,” I say. “A few weeks ago, I was in control of my life for the first time in ages. I was looking forward to my future. And now I have you people telling me I have adestiny, and I’m not in control of anything anymore. So gimme the upgrade, and let me go write my book until Odin attacks or it’s training time or whatever.”

Kirby sombers up and stands too. She holds out her hand, and I take it.

“How are we doing th—” The question dies on my lips, as visions fill my head. It’s like the other day, at Pan’s, only now there is sound too. Clanging of swords. Crying. Death. Slaughter. But also love. Valkyries cheering. Hugging. Raising glasses filled with a swirly drink and downing it in one gulp before breaking into a song. Board games.

Life.

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