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Chapter Seventeen
“Not every cloud which darkens the day brings rain.”
—Heitharvega Saga
Asgard, palace of the Æsir.
“Reckless! Foolish! Insubordinate!”
Eir had never witnessed Odin in such a state. The wisest of all gods glared at her with his one good eye, sparks of real lightning crackling. She wondered idly if she’d be incinerated on the spot.
She didn’t really care.
All of the gods and lesser gods gathered around, some seated beside Odin on the dais, some standing beside and behind them, or leaning against columns.
Freya sat on her own throne beside his, her calm eyes contrasting sharply with her husband’s ire.
It was rare to see them together in one place. Odin’s travels often took him away. And Freya wasn’t one for ceremony, hardly ever gracing the Great Hall without his presence. She much preferred to keep company in the privacy of her own home. Many said she took lovers in the summer fields; others maintained that she was the most loyal of wives.
Eir couldn’t help but recall her words from before this quest:
His Destiny is not Valhalla. Do not take him to Odin.
Well, if Eir was insubordinate, at least she had not been to both Odin and Freya. The two most powerful gods aligned against her would surely seal her Fate.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Thor standing to the side, massive arms crossed over his mountain-like chest. His hammer, Mjölnir, stood beside him on its head.
Given the fact that it wasn’t vibrating with barely restrained energy to fly at Eir and take her head off, she counted her blessings for the time being. Thor appeared to be only an observer in this hearing, not the executioner.
Loki, too, was present. Though, as usual, he was partly hidden in shadows, practically blending into the wall.
Eir had always found it strange that being a half-breed jötunn himself, the god spent so much time in Asgard with the Æsir. One never knew which side Loki was on. He certainly caused much more trouble than he ever did to help. But once in a blue moon, he did something “right.”
She wondered at his presence here. Perhaps he was still holding a grudge against her trickery of him with Nightmare. Perhaps he would celebrate her punishment and downfall.
Again, she could care less.
But, she did care about her sisters.
Mist knelt on one knee beside her, head bowed, just like the rest of the Valkyries. For they had all broken the rules by coming to Eir’s aid. Not only had they neglected their own duties of collecting the dead, but they had helped her keep alive a warrior that Odin himself had preordained to die on the battlefield and be recruited forthwith for Valhalla.
Eir kept her peace to this point. When the time was right, she would argue for clemency on behalf of her sisters. As to what leverage she could use…she’d have to figure it out in the moment.
Odin had been ranting and raving for a good long while by now. He hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, so there was nothing she could offer in rebuttal.
And even if she had a good excuse, she didn’t feel like voicing it. Whatever he decided was her punishment, she would endure without protest. As long as her sisters were spared.
Even if it meant termination.
Kai was alive somewhere. And if she lived long enough to carry out her next task, she would do everything in her power to ensure his freedom as well.
“Your horse is confiscated until further notice,” Odin spat, finally getting to the point of all this ceremony.
“Your wings are clipped.”
Eir couldn’t help the wince that flickered across her face. Odin knew how to hit where it hurt.
“If I didn’t need every soldier worth their salt, you would already be dead to me...”
