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Her lashes fluttered. His heart ruptured. She was still alive. But not for long. He felt her essence ebbing, only moments’ worth left to power her last breaths.
Her eyes opened and impaled him with a look of serenity.
Then she smiled. Smiled. “You didn’t think…I’d let you carry out this harebrained idea…did you?”
He wanted to shake her, strangle her for doing this to him, to herself. He could only choke, “You’re insane, insane….”
“Not really. This will work…you’ll see. I’ve been doing research…and this is one way out my aunts and Freyja conveniently forgot to mention…and you didn’t think of. As a willing sacrifice…I’ve cornered both gods. They won’t be able to force me into anything. Odin can’t claim me…and Freyja has to accept me in Fólkvangr without your soul as a ticket in.”
“Why wouldn’t she restore your immortality?”
“That was only…on offer…in return for your soul. I only want eternity if you’re with me…and we can’t be alive together…. It’s a catch-22. So this is…the best solution.”
“There’s another solution. Take me with you.”
“I can’t. But I’ll be fine in Fólkvangr. I’ve existed way too long, too, and even if I don’t remember it…I feel the weight of time in my bones. It will do me good to get off this merry-go-round. Also my job as tour guide…to the fallen is nowhere…as noble as yours…as guide…to the outcasts. I’ll end my existence with reversing my role…saving a mighty warrior instead of selling him on Valhalla and…trapping him into helping…that Odin oaf.”
And he roared, “I’m not leaving you to those psychopaths. They’ll find a way to punish you for thwarting them. So if you can’t take me with you, if I can’t be with you, I want anyone who covets my soul and anything else I can give to take it all wherever they wish. If they release you from this vindictive curse and restore your immortality.”
A sudden wind tore through the stifling warehouse, eddying madly in thickening smoke clouds.
As abruptly as the vortex formed, it dissipated.
Sigrun appeared with two other women, reeking of that inimitable Dísir bouquet, dressed as if for a board meeting. They walked toward him and the now weakly gasping Kara with tranquil steps.
Kara’s eyes grew taunting. “It’s over, aunts. You can’t have him.”
Sigrun smiled indulgently at her. “Oh, but it’s no longer up to you, sweetie. It’s up to him.” She turned her eyes to Vidar. “Did you mean what you just said?”
“I did,” he gritted. “I do. Now quit wasting my time.”
Sigrun raised perfectly manicured hands. “Just a second, big boy. We don’t appreciate it when anyone comes complaining that we didn’t give them time to read the fine print. You understand the significance of granting us such a carte blanche?”
“I do. My soul, and anything else you want.”
“You do know what ‘anything’ means, right?”
He nodded tersely. “Do it already.”
Before he could draw another breath, oblivion claimed him.
As he faded away, he heard Sigrun exclaiming excitedly, “Wow, Kara, you’ve gone where no Valkyrie has gone before. I thought you were being overconfident when you said you’d get us better than his soul. You not only made him volunteer it, he literally signed to anything of his. This means his Endowment, and anyone he’s connected to through it. The other Lokians, and even Loki himself.”
Awareness returned like an incoming train.
It impacted him, left him decimated and scattered.
His senses coalesced from the whiteout of agony, converged on a realm that pulsed with power, everything enveloping him indeterminable, beyond his grasp.
So this was Fólkvangr.
Then he ceased trying to decipher what bombarded him.
Kara was there. Whole. Hear
tbreakingly beautiful.
She was staring at him, her face void of expression for the first time. She looked so near. She felt as if she were in another realm.
