Chapter One

Everything was absolutely still. That scary, tense, eerie kind of stillness—like the one before a big midwestern storm. The kind of storm that sent people running for the underground cellars as the NWS announced the next town over had been flattened by an F4.

That kind of still.

Silence so deep and so stark that sound itself doesn’t exist. Only pressure, or the changes in it.

Violet floated in darkness. She felt nothing. Weightless. Fog swam around her in wispy rivulets and she realized, with a mix of awe and terror, that she could see the single, individual droplets of water that made up the fog. Impossibly tiny glittering little prisms that shot out light of every color imaginable. Mesmerizingly beautiful.

Gersemi, don’t!

Battle raged around them. The clank of shields and thrum of energy swords reverberated in her ears. Shrieks of pain and rage pierced the din and she turned, too late, as the heavy, fast thuds of an approaching predator shook the ground beneath her feet.

White fur blurred, its mass easily twice the size of their largest draft pegasus. It streaked across the battlefield, swift and straight as a spear. She couldn’t get out of the way in time and it caught her midair in its giant maw. Its jaws closed with a sickening snapping and crunching sound, encompassing her entire torso, and the world went black.

Violet gasped and flailed. She looked down and realized to her horror that the canyon was far below and the fog wasn’t fog at all.

She was in the clouds and had begun to freefall.

“Trust your wings!” a familiar voice said.

It sounded far away and extremely muffled. Like Violet had wet cotton stuffed in her ears. She spread her arms in a vain attempt to slow her descent and to her stunned surprise, her body very nearly came to a dead halt. She hung there a moment, trying to get her bearings as she stared at the ground far below her.

What the hell happened?!

There was a foreign straining in her shoulders, as though she wore a cumbersome hiking pack loaded way too heavily at the top. She instinctively moved her right arm to check for actual straps and suddenly plunged right.

“There you go, you’re getting the hang of it!” the voice cried, much clearer, closer.

Violet held her right arm back out straight and began to glide again, stopping the sudden spin her previous movement elicited. She felt the tugging of the air currents in her shoulders and started twisting her wrists to test the pitch—the way she scooped at the air with her hand when she was driving with the window open. She fell faster, then slower. Then banked slightly higher.

“I knew you’d be a natural once you fledged!”

Violet turned her head to see Sif floating there, her large dragonfly-like wings beating so fast they were naught but an ice blue blur behind her back. The sound of their flapping was a deep humming noise, like the throaty drone of an old Cessna.

“How is this even possible?” Violet asked, still focusing on her arms.

“And there’s the dumbass,” Sif replied, rolling her eyes. “Your arms aren’t keeping you up, stupid. Look behind you.”

Violet glanced over her shoulder as they slowly glided out the bottom of the cloud bank. She didn’t know what she was even looking at, at first. It looked like ethereal feathers had sprouted on a limb out of her back. But they didn’t look fully corporeal. They glowed dully, a pretty medium purple shade, and they ruffled with the wind. Wisps of light purple ether curled lazily away from the limb, leaving a short trail as she flew.

“Flap,” Sif said then.

“How?” Violet asked, panicked.

“Don’t overthink it. Just do it,” Sif laughed. “Spread your arms up and forward, then drop them. Kind of like swimming, but you’re doing it in the air.”

Violet did as Sif instructed and she heard the whoosh of wind as the wings mimicked her arms. She did it again, gaining several inches in altitude while also gaining a small burst of speed.

“Yes! Exactly like that! Let’s go!” Sif cried, rocketing herself higher.

Violet couldn’t keep up with Sif by using her arms. She just couldn’t… Flap fast enough.

Was that the right word? Flap?

She decided to test a theory and intentionally flexed the muscles in her shoulder blades. She quickly realized that by doing that and keeping her hands flat to her sides, she could indeed flap faster. She followed Sif into another cloudbank, practicing flexing her shoulders and arms, bending her torso, learning how the currents felt against her new wings as they cavorted through the air after one another.

“We don’t want to overdo it—you’re going to be very sore tomorrow,” Sif said after quite some time had passed.

“How do I land?” Violet asked.

“You know how you were playing with the angles of your wings earlier? Just do that until you notice you’re slowing down. Keep doing that until you’re a few feet off the ground. Flap a couple times and fold your wings up just before you want to touch down. But if you fold your wings up here, you’re gonna fall fast so wait until you’re ready to put your feet back on the ground.”

Violet stared at the ice fairy, wide-eyed.

“What?” Sif asked, arching one of her silvery, thin brows in amusement.

“This is the nicest you’ve ever been to me. Thank you,” Violet replied.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sif admonished. “The first landing is usually painful. Probably a good thing you can’t feel your legs fully yet.”

Violet realized she’d forgotten all about her legs. She flapped a few times to regain altitude then looked down at her dangling feet. She tried to wiggle her toes and to her astonished relief, she felt them respond, the toe of her shoes flexed. She tried to move her ankles next and was able to do slow, weak, shaky rotations with them. She attempted to lift her knee, but pain shot through her entire back and she cried out.

Her wings cringed inward and closed at the pain.

Violet gave out a shriek of surprise and fear as she plummeted for several seconds, spinning fast circles that quickly discombobulated her.

“Hold out your arms! Gersemi! Hold out your arms!” Sif shrieked from somewhere above her.

Violet fought the inertia of the spinning and it slowed as she fought to open her wings again. Finally, several hundred feet from the ground, she began gliding again and managed to straighten herself out. The pain in her back subsided but she felt considerably weak.

She tried to remember what Sif said about flexing and feeling out the currents to hold herself aloft. Impatience won out and she just wanted to get back on the ground. Violet looked for the softest stretch of sand with the least amount of prickly vegetation and tried to aim for it.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Predictably, she missed and hit a rocky patch. Luckily, she wasn’t going much faster than a slow jog by that point. She ended up in a crumpled heap, face down in the dirt and inches from a large cactus.

“Don’t go there Gersemi. No foundling treasure is worth the risk.”

She watched as Thor walked through the patio doors and back inside, his shoulders slumped and head down. The damp chill of early morning breeze washed over her, raising gooseflesh up her arms and neck. She heard the sound of the portcullis opening and closing. Sif would return momentarily.

She dragged an oiled cloth down the icy blue blade and saw her reflection in it.

“Violet! Violet are you okay!” Sif’s voice cried from somewhere behind her.

“Urmph,” Violet grunted, pushing herself up.

She lay on her side, propped up by her hands. Out the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker of movement. Her hand snapped up and caught a rattlesnake just behind the head, right as it had lunged for her face. She stared bewildered at the reptilian eyes for a split second, then whipped it toward the cactus.

Violet then immediately scrambled backwards and flexed her shoulders. Her great, ethereal wings flapped several times, sending dust exploding in thick motes away from her. She hovered a few feet above the ground and surveyed the immediate area for any more threats.

Gingerly, she lowered herself back to the earth, satisfied that the snake wasn’t close enough to strike again. She managed to stand for the briefest of moments, but her knees gave out and she found herself back on the ground again.

Sif suddenly appeared beside her, whooping very loudly and triumphantly. Violet’s wheelchair materialized somehow next to her and Sif helped her into it. Violet grunted in discomfort as her ethereal wings were bunched up under and behind her.

“Will them away,” Sif instructed. “Just think it. Will them away.”

Violet didn’t know what the hell the fairy meant but she’d been right so far. Violet closed her eyes and wished that the wings would retract. Her shoulder blades burned uncomfortably and light flared brightly around her. A moment later, they were gone. At least, they felt like they were gone. She couldn’t see or feel them anymore.

“What the blue blazin’ hell was that?!” Peyton’s voice called to them from quite some distance away, across the canyon’s floor.

They waited as he sprinted over to them. Peyton stopped just before he reached them, doubling over to catch his breath. He held up a hand, as if telling them to wait, then straightened back to his full height.

He stared at Violet as if he’d never seen her before.

“You were—and she was—but…” he stammered, indicating a path in the sky with the sweeping of his hands, then showing the paths crossing one another as a mime or small child would when playing with “hand airplanes”.

“She fledged!” Sif cried in ecstasy, spinning in a circle like a crazed ballerina. “She fledged and we can go home now!”

“Home? Just a goddamn minute,” Peyton said, catching his breath.

He gently squeezed Violet’s shoulder and knelt next to her, his eyes assessing. She stared back into his teal gaze and smiled, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek in her palm.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered.

“Don’t leave me again,” he said, just as softly.

“She has to,” Sif quietly interjected. “She’s a Valkyrie. She must do as Odin bids.”

“No!” Peyton retorted. “What did ya do ta her? It’s because of y’all and y’all’s stupid soulblades and magic shit that this happened ta her in the first damn place!”

“She cannot go back yet, but she will. Eventually. Soon. She must get her legs back first. You’ve got a little time,” Sif said.

A sudden crack of lightning appeared nearby, temporarily rendering them blind and deaf. A moment later, Thor strode toward them with Dezzy and Manny in tow. Dezzy bent over and almost vomited. Manny just looked around in amazement—as though he was a child attending Disney World for the first time.

They started jogging over when they saw Sif, Violet, and Peyton.

“Did she?” Thor excitedly asked as he reached them, his eyes darting to Violet’s shoulders.

“Like a fish to water,” Sif beamed, turning her gaze on Violet for a moment before looking back at Thor. “But there’s still damage. It’s getting a lot better. She’ll be at full strength within a couple months.”

“Luckily, she already works at a gym with people who will be more than happy to help her get back on her feet,” Manny chimed in.

“Is it safe to go home yet?” Violet asked then, suddenly and utterly exhausted.

“Yes. You need to rest now,” Sif replied, reaching out her hands to Peyton and Violet. “You’ve earned it, Valkyrie.”

*****

Violet sat in her wheelchair next to the coffee table at the end of the loveseat portion of Dezzy’s enormous sectional couch. She listened as the group of friends bickered and bantered about the day’s events. Peyton sat next to her, glaring at Sif and Thor, who sat across from them. Next to them, Manny and Dezzy sat, sipping from recently opened beer bottles.

“So, let me get this straight—she can fly now?” Dezzy asked Sif as he took a long draught.

“Yes,” Sif chirped simply.

“Well then why are you in that chair still?” Dezzy directed the question and his attention toward his sister.

“Just because I can fly doesn’t mean I can walk all of the sudden. I haven’t used my legs in almost three months, Dez,” Violet tiredly replied.

“Put together a training regimen. We’ll help you with it,” Manny said. “I really wish I could see the wings.”

“They’re there. But she can’t just bust them out for parlor tricks. She’s a Valkyrie, not a show pony,” Sif admonished. “Her wingspan is over eight feet wide. Besides that, it takes a lot of spiritual energy to manifest them right now. Once she heals and gets back to Valhalla, she’ll get her real wings, not just the spirit ones. That’s when the real fun begins.”

“Wait,” Violet interjected. “So, the ones I have now—they’re not even real yet?”

Sif sighed and rolled her eyes, “If they weren’t real you’d be a greasy smear of blood and guts splattered on the canyon’s floor. You can’t manifest your real wings in this realm yet, just the spirit wings. They’re the first set a Valkyrie receives when they fledge. If you’d fledged in Valhalla like we wanted you to, you’d be practicing with the real ones now. These are the precursor. Like—training wheels on a bicycle when you’re just learning how to ride.”

“Okay, enough about the damn wings. Have you started getting your memories back yet?” Thor interrupted.

Violet met his eyes with hers.

“What foundling treasure were you warning Gersemi about?” Violet countered.

Thor’s face fell and he looked down at the floor before he spoke.

“You wanted to go into the realm of the giants to steal an enchanted bow from the frost elves—it once belonged to the God of the Hunt, Ullr. Except retrieving it meant crossing the raging sea in which Jörmungandr lurks. You don’t have the best luck with snakes,” Thor quietly said. “Or wolves. Or any of Loki’s monstrous children, for that matter.”

“Did Jörmungandr get me?” Violet asked, her face and eyes earnest.

“No. But it did distract the rest of the Asgardian royal guard enough for Loki to sneak in and free Fenrir.”

Violet stared back at her godly brother and her eyes flew wide in horror.

“I… I started Ragnarok,” she whispered.

“No,” Sif sharply said. “No, Loki started Ragnarok. You were just one of the many pawns he sacrificed in his attempts to gain power.”

“I mean, she kind of did,” Thor replied with a shrug. “But hey—I accidentally let Garm loose once so…”

Violet didn’t know anything about Garm. She hadn’t gotten much education in the lore—she’d mostly spent her time trying to learn how to keep Gondul from taking her head off her shoulders with whatever instrument of war happened to be flavor of the day. There was little time for academics when they were so hellbent on forcing Violet to remember something, to fledge.

“I am not drunk enough for this conversation,” Dezzy said then, standing and going to the kitchen for another bottle.

He brought a six pack back and dispersed it among them all, except for Sif—she didn’t like beer.

“This security team you hired, where did you say they were from?” Thor changed the subject, looking expectantly at Manny as he drained half of the bottle Dezzy had just given him.

“Private sector. They came highly recommended. They do security for politicians and celebrities. Villt Veidi is the company name,” Manny replied, also taking a sizeable drink. “Heard of them?”

Thor chuckled throatily, “Of course. Einherjar. The best of the best of Odin’s personal retinue.”

“So—they’re all gods? Like you?” Manny asked.

“No,” Thor laughed, draining the rest of the beer from his bottle in one heroic swig. He swiped at his lips with his forearm and said, “No. They’re really good at killing things though. Good choice, if not hilariously poetic.”

It was dark. The kind of dark that seeped into one’s soul and drove out hope itself. Quiet, except for the ominous stirring of wind somewhere behind. The hairs stood up on the back of the neck. A shriek—pain? Rage? Both?

Blinding pain in her throat and then…

“Hey, Vi? Ya okay?” Peyton asked, waving a hand in front of her eyes.

It was different from the other flashbacks. Where the others were most definitely memories from her life as Gersemi, that one felt foreign. Like it didn’t belong. Like it wasn’t hers.

“I’m just tired,” Violet quietly replied, looking around.

They all stared at her, worry etched into their foreheads and radiating from their eyes.

“What?” she sheepishly asked.

“You kinda—zoned out. Your eyes went purple again,” Dezzy announced, staring hard at Violet. “Why does she do that?”

The question was leveled directly at Sif.

Sif shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I’ve never had to deal with a Valkyrie this broken before.”

“I’m not broken,” Violet ground out between clenched teeth.

“It’s different for Vi,” Thor interjected defensively. “The others weren’t godlings. Just normal people.”

“I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed. I’ll see you all at the gym in the morning,” Violet excused herself, wheeling herself toward the guest bedroom Dezzy allowed her to occupy.

Peyton chugged the rest of his beer and went after her, glaring at the rest of them before he departed.