Page 80 of Veil of Blood and Bone

He stands feet away, on the other side of the room. Knowledge connects us. The kind only history provides.

“No.” Helene is firm. “No, she’s never...Audra isn’t like—” She cuts off, clamping down on the words.

But it’s enough to sap whatever remaining strength she has left in her.

Audra claws into the couch cushions. Then, forced out between her clenched teeth, she speaks.

The first few statements are gibberish. It's the sort of drivel you say to yourself when you’re alone at home and pissed off because you can’t find the right word. Instead of devolving into sound, moans and groans of pain, one phrase is startlingly clear above the rest.

“All-Father.”

The sleet and rain slant, a strange combination of weather and unnatural chill.

Tension builds in the room, goosebumps breaking out over my skin. My fingers press harder on Audra's ankle and my eyes bolt open.

“Kid, it’s okay. It’s all going to be⁠—”

Wren’s shadows cut her off, pinning her in place when Helene rocks forward. “Sorry, pretty monster. This is something we need to hear.”

“She’s having a seizure,” Helene bites out.

“It’s not a seizure," I repeat.

“Odin’s curse in three it spans. The bloodletter, the memory minder, and the secret keeper.”

Oh, fuck.

Völva, advisors to the Gods, are never wrong. Holders of deep knowledge, destiny. The universe.

Even the AllFather sought their guidance.

Their practice of seiðr magic originated with the goddess Freyja, the first, the most formidable völva.

Whatever prophecy Audra speaks into being might as well be divine law.

My fangs lengthen, instincts screeching. Every one of them demands I grab Helene and run. The room falls into darkness, the fluorescent bulbs guttering out, a pall none of us are able to shake.

Audra quiets before divination spouts form her lips.

“All seeing eye to AllFather, the trio unite to find their center. The beginning marks the end. The snake has let go of its tail, and the circle is broken.”

“Fucking hell,” Wren mutters.

He’s said a mouthful.

One thing is painfully clear—Odin knows where we are. This time he won’t let us go. He’s already sent his first wave of attacks, not as a punishing strike, but as a warning.

“The start is the end, the end is the start, and the trio of monsters protect their heart. Try and die. Try and die. Odin comes.”

“Kid, wake up.” Helene tugs free of Wren’s shadows and grabs the girl by the shoulders to shake her. “Wake up!”

Audra spoke of all three of us, but the part about the snake letting go of its tail is new. Jörmungandr, or the Midgard Serpent, the Worlds Serpent, circles the world biting its tail. If he’s released it then the end of days has begun.

The beginning of the end indeed.

My insides hollow out, and I glance at Wren, at a loss.

Helene doesn’t cry, and she doesn’t scream. She keeps her composure, her freckles standing out against the paleness of her skin.