Valkyrie's Sacrifice - Angel Lawson Page 0,1

either dead or followed Roland into the temple.

“I hate that painting,” she says. “I hate everything about this place.”

“Well, we won’t be here long enough to redecorate.”

On cue, the walls whine, followed by the shuddering of the building. We both grip the nearest heavy object for stability. The entire foundation of the Academy has been compromised and won’t hold much longer. But we can’t leave. Not until we find Hildi and Marshal. It was a direct order from Agis, although he had the backing of the other Immortals as well; Wait for Hildi. Bring her to us.

That was before I realized how much damage the building had sustained. A closer inspection revealed that when the temple was opened, it caused a ripple effect through the abyss that held the Academy’s realm together. This realm apparently was temporary, nothing more than a conduit to allow passage to the other side—to whatever realm was hosting the apocalypse. I have no proof, but I’m pretty sure that the gods want everyone in play—otherwise people would attempt to hole up in the Academy for safety—or maybe just to plan. The longer we stay, the more frequent the quakes rattle the building, which, at the current frequency, means our time is running out—for both staying here and finding them.

“They have to be in one of the portals that link to the school. Armin said that Marshal went to warn her.”

Her eyebrow raises. “And we trust Marshal?”

“I don’t know. I trust Armin.” I catch her violet eye. “Don’t you?”

“I do.” She sits on the couch. “A hundred percent.”

Another tremor runs through the walls, this one big enough to crack a window. Cold air from outside rushes in; the chill of the abyss.

“How long do you think we have?” I ask the fairy, as she shakes dust from the ceiling out of her hair. She’s healed from the ambush at the challenge. The bite wounds nothing but faint scars. She’s stronger too, spending a few hours of every day sparring with me while we wait.

“A day,” Elizabeth replies to my question. “Maybe two.”

Probably less. Only the gods know, and they sure as hell aren’t answering right now. There’s one thing we do know for certain. The Immortals, the Upperworld…they won’t win without Hildi, which means we have no choice but to figure out how to get her back.

“Well,” I say, grabbing a blade off my desk and tucking it into the waistband of my pants, “we’ll keep searching—room by room—until we find them.”

“And if we don’t?” she asks.

“We will.”

Find Hildi. The words echo in my head day in and day out. I’m not sure if it’s just the directive from Armin lingering or something else. The urge to get to her, to make her safe, is undeniably strong.

The fairy’s expression tells me she has doubts. Her faith was tested in the arena fight. She’s not the same as before. Gone is the happy girl with pink hair and a quick mind. Oh, her hair is still pink, but she’s scarred, angry, vengeful.

Good. That’s what we need for allies, because with every day that passes, there’s a nagging in my chest. Something, someone, darker is pulling the strings behind this apocalypse. Someone bigger than Roland or Victorine.

Someone I’ve betrayed.

3

Hildi

Warmth spirals up my body, settling around my neck. It’s like I’m drowning, pulled under, smothered. I gasp for air, tossing and turning, trying to escape. “Help!” I cry, my voice muffled. “Someone help!”

“Hildi!”

The sound of my name jerks me awake, and I blink into the dark room as I fight against the blanket bunched at my chest.

“Gods,” I mutter, slinging my legs over the side of the bed. Sleep has been elusive since Marshal arrived, but this heat is new. I run a hand over my neck and yelp when the metal of the ring on my finger meets my throat.

I blink at the purple stone—flickering with light. That’s when I sense the tug, pulling me out of bed, down the narrow hallway to the mirror over the bathroom sink.

“Hello?” I ask, heart hammering. The ring pulses happily. “Morgan?”

The surface of the mirror shimmers, like a pool of melted glass. Tentatively, I reach toward the center, feeling the energy that shifts between worlds. My fingers vanish, then my whole hand. An instant later I’m yanked through, tumbling on the other side onto hard stone floors.

I look up and see bare feet and a swollen belly.

“Sorry about that,” she says. “That place you’re in—it’s hard to locate.”

I get to my