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"Gods have mercy," I whisper, stunned. I knew she was powerful, but what we're talking about? Not even the Gods wielded that sort of power. She killed hundreds tonight, everyvarulvher Light touched. It'll take centuries before the Forsaken are able to replenish their numbers. Centuries before the hellhounds are half the threat they've been for millennia.
"We lost a warrior tonight."
"Who?"
"Arundiel."
"Faen." I scowl at the concrete floor of the safehouse. Arundiel was one of our oldest warriors. He was a formidable Fae.
"They sent twelve Forsaken to capture her."
"Twelve Forsaken for a single Valkyrie," I whisper, shaking my head as my gaze drifts back to the woman sleeping in the bed beside me. She's so peaceful and still. At rest, she looks as young and innocent as ever. Her Light is little more than a golden glow around her, a tiny fraction of the true power she wields. I know the true scope of it, though. Even now, I feel it inside her, blazing like one thousand suns. "They have to know what she's capable of."
"Ja," Damrion says. "They do."
"Abigail?" I ask, the one topic we've avoided since Rissa raised the possibility that the Forsaken were sending the girl's visions. It's a troubling possibility, the implications grim. But if there's even a slim chance that Rissa is right and the Forsaken have worked out how to send visions to Abigail, we have to consider that they've also figured out how to siphon off images fromher true visions. If they're using her as a bridge to the Fae, as a conduit into our council, Gods only knows what they've seen. Clearly enough to send everyvarulvthey have into the mountains. Enough to send twelve Forsaken after Rissa.
"Possibly," Damrion says, his lips twisted as if the word tastes bitter upon them. "Faen. I don't want to believe it. She's a shining Light."
"Ja, she is. One no one would ever suspect. It makes her the perfect candidate, Damrion. That doesn't make her guilty of anything more than that. She hasn't sold her soul to the dark. They use her without her consent or knowledge. If Rissa is right, it means only that we must be careful going forward. We cannot blindly trust her visions to guide us any longer."
Damrion jerks his head in a nod. "Which means we have no idea why we're really here," he says.
I cock my head to the side, not sure what he's getting at.
"We don't know if they sent the vision that led us here or if it's a true vision," he says. "My gut tells me it's a trap they've set for her. One she's willing to walk into to free the people she loves. But if it's a true vision, she was always meant to come back to Seattle. So why try to trap her in the valley tonight at all?"
It's an excellent question. One I hadn't considered until just now. I was operating under the assumption that the Forsaken andvarulvattacked to get to her, but if she was destined to return to Seattle, they had to know that wouldn't work. They had to know they were wasting their numbers in a doomed attempt. As far as we know, not even the Forsaken can circumvent Abigail's visions. What she sees always comes to pass. Always.
"Abigail," I say. "They want Abigail." Whatever they're planning, they don't want to risk us seeing it.
"Ja," Damrion growls, his expression fierce. "I believe so."
"Have you warned the warriors in Eitr?"
"I have. Two dozen guard her and Letty as we speak. They'll continue in shifts until we're back in Eitr." He blows out a sharp breath. "I'd bring her here if I thought it was any safer."
"Eitr is the safest place for her. It's always been the safest place for her." As the Forsaken learned tonight, getting to her won't be a walk in the park for them. Even without Rissa's power, getting up the mountain is no easy feat. Neither is locating Eitr. If they're lucky enough to do it, they still have to battle their way through scores of Fae warriors—every single one willing to die where he stands to protect every one of the Blooded in town.
"Ja, I know." Damrion scrubs a hand down his face. "It does not make me worry any less, brother. As Rissa reminded us today, Abigail is still just a girl. And when I agreed to allow her to stay, I made a vow to ensure she was well cared for and happy."
"You've kept your vow, brother."
He nods, though he doesn't look any less troubled. Damrion always worries too much. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and always has. That's the price of leadership. He never complains. He simply shoulders the burden and continues on. But it isn't easy. I suspect, sometimes, it's the hardest thing in the world.
"Adriel does not agree," he says after a moment. "He's furious that we left her behind."
"Nei," I say quietly. "Adriel is furious that the only person he's opened his heart to in two thousand years is in danger and he's helpless to do anything about it." He's a complicated Fae, but this, I understand completely. Adriel would move heaven and earth to protect Abigail, just like Damrion would. And right now, there's nothing either of them can do for her. Damrion blames himself. Adriel blames himself. But he lashes out at Damrion, just like he's always done.
Even now, Adriel loves Damrion. He's just too angry to admit it. He was abandoned when he needed him most. In twothousand years, the sting of that still hasn't faded. It might not ever. But sooner or later, one of them will be forced to admit what they both fight so hard to deny. They aren't brothers. They never have been. This is more than that. That's why it cuts them both so damn deeply. Perhaps Abigail is a part of that. Perhaps she isn't. I don't know. I don't pretend to see the patterns in the tapestry the Norns weave.
But the three of them can only circle one another for so long before the Norns either push them together or pull them apart. One day soon, one or the other will happen. It's only a matter of time.
Half an hour after Damrion slips from the room in the old Fae safehouse, Rissa begins to stir. I'm back at her side in an instant, kneeling beside the bed with my hands on her cheeks.
"Valkyrie," I breathe as her eyes flutter and slowly open. "You're back with me."
Confusion cuts through her gaze before those bright blue pools lands on me. As soon as they do, relief washes over her. I see it take her, relaxing her muscles and the furrow between her brows.
