It must be all those cows you eat.”
“You're just jealous because I can eat more than you.”
I can almost picture Elan’s disagreeable face as she pushes off, carrying us to the goat carriage.
Without waiting, I jump off Elan’s back and circle the carriage, studying the saddle in the dim light. Thuds sound behind me as Thor and Beowulf climb down to join me.
Taking in my excitement, Thor grins. “I had to smuggle it past my father. Fortunately in this case, he’s still not up to full strength and still spends a lot of time in his room.”
“Is he still getting over his prophecy from Mimir’s Well?” Concern washes over me, temporarily displacing my disappointment over being banished.
“Oh, don't worry. The old man will get over that shortly. He's tough and will come back with a vengeance.” Thor huffs. “It still doesn’t keep him from getting annoyed and dealing out punishments.”
My mouth stretches into a thin line. “I’m too aware.”
Elan squats, and Thor helps me throw the large saddle over her back and secure the straps. The exhaustion from our ordeal in Muspelheim catches up with me, and lethargy creeps into my muscles, making me grateful for Thor’s help. Hooking my foot in a stirrup, I grasp the edge of the saddle and heave myself up. I’m amused by how small the god of thunder looks from up here.
A thought crosses my mind. “So how did you know where I was, Thor?”
“Freya let me know. She sent me a message through Ratatoskr.”
“Oh?” An image of the loving goddess flashes through my memory, unafraid to show her emotions, and her calm and collected, wanting peace and searching for the best in people. “I can't imagine her sending a message through Ratatoskr. Does she know how to send insults?”
Thor gives me an amused look. “Battle maiden, she comes up with the most interesting and disgusting messages that you wouldn’t even comprehend.”
My jaw drops, and my cheeks turn red when I think about whatever might be said by a love goddess to someone like Thor.
There must've been enough moonlight shining on my face because Thor smirks. “Would you like me to tell you some?”
“No,” I blurt too quickly. “Thank you. I don't need that image sparking the wrong kind of imagination. Let’s go, Elan.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as she pushes off and glides slowly down to the commune of angels of death, leaving Thor and Beowulf to catch up with us in the goat-drawn carriage. Having the saddle underneath me again feels good, giving me more grip and less chance of falling off her scaled back. Her scales glow in the dim light of the fire as we circle, listening to the rumbling of the carriage. When it nears the fire, Elan lands, and I climb off, waiting for Thor.
Arms wrap around me, and I gaze up in shock to find Freya embracing me.
“Thank goodness you're okay, Kara. I was so worried.”
Hugging isn’t my forte, but I return her embrace. A strange sense of peace fills me as I soak up the genuine concern that Freya feels for people.
“Thanks for sending your angels. I'm sorry I had to drag you into this. I didn’t want Surt to get anywhere near you.”
She shifts backward to study my face, clasping both of my upper arms gently. Her features are lovely, and I’m almost envious of her physique and mannerisms until I remind myself that she’s a goddess. Nothing can be compared to her beauty, not even the beautiful Valkyries.
“Oh, Kara. It’s because of me that you were in that mess in the first place. Besides, Surt is stupid to think he can take me as a wife.”
Giving her a cheeky grin, I ask, “So does that mean that you're not going to say yes?”
One side of her face screws up with amusement. “Like I would ever say yes to that baboon. Could you imagine?” She waves a dismissive hand at me. “And that realm would be a horrible place to live. So much hatred and destruction. I couldn’t do it.”
“Are you going to introduce us, sis?”
Behind her shoulder stands Freyr, tall and thin with blond hair, his features similar to hers. “Is this the Valkyrie?” His eyes pass over my wingless shoulders.
- Chapter Twenty-Two -
* * *
Freya turns, opening a gap to let her brother into our small circle. “Of course. Why wouldn't I introduce you to her? This is Kara. Kara, this is Freyr, my brother.”
Freyr moves quickly, clasping my hand and raising