Chapter Twelve

Violet and Lagertha walked together out of the large conference room following one of the many presentations they’d sat through in the course of the day. The crowd flowed past them like a river around boulders as they waited for Manuel and Taylor to join them. Violet stowed her laptop in her backpack, checking to make sure the charging cord was neatly wrapped.

Manuel and Taylor joined them and Violet lagged just behind the other three as they made their way outside. The sky was overcast and in the distance, thunder rumbled. Violet stopped to tie her sneaker, using a nearby low bench next to a tree to rest her foot. Above her, she heard the familiar croak of a raven.

She looked up as she finished tying the laces and the bird swooped down to land upon her shoulder. She glanced over at it, then scanned for where Lagertha had gone. The world seemed to still, as it had before, however Lagertha appeared from the frozen crowd to join Violet.

The raven croaked, rubbed its head against Violet’s cheek, then flew up to the top of the closest streetlamp post.

“We’ve both been summoned,” Lagertha ominously whispered, looking up at the enormous black bird.

“That can’t be good,” Violet muttered.

“C’mon then. Let’s not keep Odin waiting,” Lagertha quipped, her silver wings materializing as she spoke.

Violet and Lagertha alighted the pavement together and followed the raven to the outskirts of the city where a large music festival took place. The sun had begun to set, casting the festival in an eerie, dull red glow that seemed menacing instead of merry.

A group of ragtag looking men dressed in ill-fitting tactical gear staked out the edge of the festival’s main stage, above which the raven perched and watched.

“This is going to be bad,” Violet lamented as time resumed its slow march of inevitability.

“I hate mass shootings,” Lagertha spat. “Cowards.”

“Can’t we stop them?” Violet asked, turning to look at the other Valkyrie as they stood in the deep shadows among the rafters above the main stage.

The festival’s main events were between acts and the crowd milled restlessly before the stage. Violet noted that most of the festival-goers were dressed in bright clothes and wore glow light necklaces and bracelets. Many of them wore neon-colored wigs with wild styles. They mostly looked happy to be there, excited to dance when the music came back.

Violet bleakly realized that she’d never been to a rave before.

“No. We cannot intervene and the magic that binds us makes it impossible to do so. It is not our duty to change fates. Our duty is only to decide which of the fallen are worthy of Valhalla and offer them the choice.”

“That’s cruel,” Violet replied.

“So is life,” Lagertha sadly retorted. “All we can do is offer a choice for the after.”

“What’s the point of having this power if we can’t use it for good?” Violet asked, wincing as the militants started moving toward the main event stage.

“We are using it for good,” Lagertha said. “Their deaths aren’t in vain. They go on to serve.”

“Yeah, in someone else’s army for someone else’s gains.”

Lagertha sighed, “Gersemi, you were always too much of an anarchist for your own good.”

We offer them a choice between the freedom of death and the yoke of service to a god who cannot be construed as benevolent in even the farthest stretches of imagination. I fail to see how either choice is a good one if it can be prevented from needing to be made in the first place.

The voice came from within Violet, but Lagertha heard it nonetheless.

“Their choices are what led them here. They chose to be in this place just as their assailants chose to be here. Freedom to choose does not mean one is free from the consequences of those choices,” Lagertha curtly replied. “But enough. The chaos is soon to begin. Be ready. Follow the raven. He’ll tell you who is worthy of Odin’s Hall.”

Before Violet or Gersemi could offer a counterargument, Lagertha launched into the air, her enormous wings swiftly gaining altitude. Violet followed and just as she reached the same height as Lagertha, the first shots rang out.

Absolute pandemonium broke loose as people ran for cover wherever they could find it. The shooters, maybe half a dozen of them in total, indiscriminately fired upon the rapidly dispersing crowd. An inferno of fury roared within Violet’s chest.

This is wrong! Several voices raged in her mind, the taste of their righteous indignation hot and bitter on her tongue. Violet clutched at her head as the voices crescendoed.

We are Earth’s protector, not Asgard’s. We cannot allow this. These people are innocents. Those cowards are blinded by hatred and by fear. This is dishonorable. Unworthy.

Unworthy!

Before Violet realized what was happening, she found herself diving toward the assailants. She landed in the center of their group and spun, whipping her wings around her in a devastating cyclone. Three of the gunmen fell from the impacts—their necks snapped.

One of the gunmen turned his weapon on her, screaming in fury and fear as he pulled the trigger. Time slowed. Violet sidestepped the stream of bullets that were aimed at her, feeling as though she’d become the puppet again. Someone else had control of her but this time—it didn’t alarm her.

Violet lunged toward the man and lashed at him with one wing. To her surprise and horror, his head was neatly severed from his body and it collapsed as a fountain of gore gouted from the gaping wound. Another of his comrades screamed at her and she lifted her arm as he trained the muzzle of his weapon on her.

A large, ethereal round shield appeared on her forearm just as the stream of projectiles made their way toward her. Again, time slowed, and Violet watched transfixed as the bullets hit the shield…

And immediately turned to dust.

The man stopped firing to reload a fresh magazine into the gun and Violet blitzed toward him. She snapped his neck with the lash of a wing and searched frantically for the final gunman. She located him at the edge of the crowd, running toward the fencing that lined the outside of the makeshift arena.

Just as she made to go after him, she watched as several members of the panicked crowd tackled him. The gun went off a few more times before he was subdued, claiming at least three new victims. The crowd piled onto him in response, kicking, hitting, and screaming at him.

Violet rushed to the nearest victim, who’d taken two rounds to the chest. They were already gone; A young person dressed in drag. Violet choked down the bile that rose in her throat at the carnage and searched for the next victim. Another young person, another gaping, jagged wound in their abdomen, but they still lived. The raven landed on Violet’s shoulder and croaked frantically.

Violet stood over them and their eyes widened.

“Are you—are you an angel?” they coughed, covering the wound with both their hands.

I am Valkyrie and I come to offer you a choice.

“Wh-what choice do I have? I’m… I’m dying…”

But you may yet live, if you wish to serve in Odin’s Hall. I offer you the chance to become Einherjar. To serve in Valhalla.

“I don’t want to die,” they whispered, clutching harder at the wound in their side.

Take my hand then and be immortal.

Violet grasped the bloody hand as it was extended and the familiar sensation of light and weightlessness washed over them.

Their life flashed before Violet’s eyes. A sad life. Full of abuse and mistreatment at the hands of a family that couldn’t accept them. They joined the Air Force to get away from an abusive home, to have a roof over their heads and food in their belly. They became a pilot after several years of dutiful study and practice. They flew aid missions to wartorn and disaster-ridden areas for a local non-profit after they were honorably discharged from service. They were worthy.

The courtyard of Valhalla came into view around them. Violet pulled them to their feet and smiled as sweetly at them as she could. Several of the Einherjar dropped their practice weapons to race over and join them.

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Violet watched in silence as the Einherjar swept the new recruit away. Then she realized she still didn’t know how to get back.

“You bring fresh blood for the Einherjar, Daughter,” a deep voice sounded from behind her.

Violet turned to face the speaker, the icy grip of dread sliding mercilessly down her spine.

“All Father,” she choked, holding her forearm across her chest and offering a slight bow.

He stared hard at her with that one, icy blue eye. She fought to keep her expression neutral.

“You disobeyed. You interfered.”

Violet jerked her chin up in defiance and met his gaze, even as her knees threatened to buckle.

I am not a protector of Asgard. I am a protector of Earth, Gersemi’s voice sounded, clear and musical in the now-empty courtyard.

“But you are still Valkyrie, bound—”

I bring you those worthy of service to Valhalla. What I do beyond that is not your concern.

“Fool child!” Odin spat, striding forward until their faces were mere inches apart.

We are of one mind in this. We will interfere when those who are Unworthy seek to strike down innocents.

Odin glared at her for a moment more, but then he softened, like a balloon slowly deflating.

“I do not rule you, Gersemi. I never have and I have never wanted to.”

A lie, if ever one was told.

“I only wanted what was best for you and our family—for our Kingdom.”

You wanted power and bragging rights and I was a means to that end.

“Gersemi!” a high, clear voice shouted.

Odin and Violet turned together and watched as Sif rapidly approached.

“What have you done?” Sif whispered as she reached them, her hand reaching up to palm Violet’s cheek.

“They would all have been killed. I couldn’t stand by and watch innocents get slaughtered,” Violet whispered.

“Leave this place,” Odin quietly said.

And never come back? Gersemi retorted.

“You may be Earth’s protector, but this is and always will be your home. You are needed on Earth. Go. Now. And learn what it is to be a god. The consequences are yours to bear,” the old man said as he turned and disappeared into the tunnel that led back toward the Valhallan Palace.

Sif took Violet’s face in both of her hands, her sapphire eyes glittering with an emotion Violet couldn’t place.

“You cannot defy Odin and be free of the consequences,” Sif sadly spoke.

We will take the consequences if it means averting a massacre.

“A massacre?! Why isn’t Lagertha with you?” Sif asked, releasing Violet’s face.

There was a loud crack like a thunderclap then, and Lagertha appeared with four new Einherjar. The crowd of warriors returned to the courtyard and took their new charges with them. Lagertha, Violet, and Sif watched them leave together before any of them spoke again.

“That was extremely foolish,” Lagertha snarled, grabbing Violet roughly by the arm.

Instinctively, Violet yanked herself free from the other Valkyrie’s iron grip and glared at her. Lagertha took a step back, her teal eyes wide. But it wasn’t fear that Violet read in her gaze. It was something else.

“I sometimes forget that you are a goddess in your own right,” Lagertha quietly said. “But you still should not have interfered. It upsets the balance between life and death. It can have consequences you won’t understand until it is too late.”

“What good is having freedom of choice if we aren’t allowed to make mistakes and learn from them?”

Lagertha sighed and pleadingly looked at Sif.

“Don’t look at me,” Sif answered the question in the elder Valkyrie’s gaze. “My part in this is done.”

“What do you mean?” Violet asked as the fae turned and started toward the same tunnel into which Odin had gone.

“You are Valkyrie. You are Earth’s goddess of protection. What place have I in your life now?” Sif retorted, stopping as Violet reached her.

“Your place in my life is… I need you,” Violet said.

“But you don’t anymore. Not really,” Sif sadly replied, looking away.

Violet gently caught her chin in her hand and turned the fairy’s face up so that she could look down into the fae’s eyes.

“Yes. I do. Gersemi does. All of us do. Where would we be without you? We need your counsel, your wisdom, and your love.”

Sif grimaced and closed her eyes tightly. She slowly turned her head, removing it from Violet’s grasp, as she regarded Lagertha.

“Don’t look at me,” Lagertha quipped with a sarcastic grin. “My part in this is done.”

Sif glared at the Valkyrie for a split second before turning her attention back to Violet.

Siffy… Come back and help me keep this dumbass in check, Gersemi’s voice sounded.

“Not yet,” Sif replied, though the corner of one side of her mouth lifted in a tentative grin. “But soon.”

I accept that and I will miss you every second of every minute of every hour of every day until you do.

“Don’t get all romantic with me,” Sif snorted, though her eyes glittered as unshed tears gathered in their corners. “But I promise. I will return soon.”

Good. Now show the dumbass how we get back to Earth.

Sif barked a short laugh and grabbed Violet’s hand. She placed it over Violet’s heart and said, “Think about where you want to go. Like you do when you’re summoning or dismissing your wings.”

“That’s it?” Violet asked, incredulous.

“You have enough spirit energy now. You can traverse worlds. Go. The others will be missing you and Earth needs its protector.”

*****

“Did you see the news?” Taylor gushed as Lagertha and Violet rejoined them at the restaurant in their hotel for dinner.

“About?” Lagertha asked.

“There was a mass shooting just a few miles from here,” Taylor said, motioning for them to follow her to their table.

“What happened?” Violet asked.

“I don’t know. They said there’s over a dozen dead and like twice that wounded,” Taylor quietly stated, her dark eyes serious.

“Is the shooter still at large?” Lagertha queried, casting a dark look at Violet.

“No. It sounds like it was at some sort of music festival and the crowd jumped the shooters.”

“There were multiple shooters?” Violet inquired, working to keep her tone neutral.

“Yeah,” Taylor replied, looking down at her phone.

She tapped the screen a few times, scrolled some, and then held it up for Violet and Lagertha to read. The headline read “Another California mass shooting claims over a dozen lives, including those of the shooters”. A picture showed the festival’s mainstage and several sheet-covered bodies on the ground.

“How horrible,” Lagertha breathed.

“You could stop things like this,” Taylor said, her eyes turning to regard Violet. “You could save people from this.”

Violet grit her teeth and forced herself to look away. Lagertha regarded her with an intrigued look but said nothing.

“I mean it, Vi,” Taylor said as they took their seats.

Gorski, Manuel, Mike, and a few other people Violet didn’t recognize sat at their party’s enormous table in a private section at the back of the swanky restaurant. Violet surreptitiously checked her reflection in one of the glasses that headed her place setting, then demurely slid her chair closer to the table.

“Save the argument for later, Tay. Now isn’t the time,” Violet quietly said as Taylor took the seat in between Violet and Manuel.

Taylor huffed a sound of disapproval but said nothing more about the subject, opting instead to rejoin whatever conversation she, Manuel, and the unknowns at their table engaged in prior to Lagertha and Violet’s arrival.

Violet was quiet throughout the dinner, joining the conversations when prompted, but otherwise she remained lost in her own thoughts.

She had defied Odin. She had broken the rules. The first time she took a new Einherjar to Valhalla, she had tried to go after the man that committed murder and hadn’t been able to. Some sort of unknown force kept her from him. Earlier that evening, however, there had been nothing to keep her from acting.

Why, she asked herself. Why did it hamper her the first time but allow her to intervene in the second? What was different?

“She’s a bit distracted this evening, it would seem,” Violet heard Manuel say, which drew her attention back to the conversation at hand.

“I’m sorry,” Violet said, looking to Manuel. “What were you saying?”

The three other men and two other women, none with whom Violet was familiar, all laughed good-naturedly. Manuel and Taylor joined in. Violet was sure they’d been introduced but she hadn’t been able to pay enough attention. Lagertha stonily watched Violet from the other side of the table, further dividing Violet’s focus. She felt as though she was some sort of prey animal and the lion pride was closing in from all sides.

“There have been interesting developments with stem cell research that could have practical application in sports medicine,” one of the men said. “Would you personally condone its use in MMA?”

“We already use some treatments for tendon and ligament repair,” Violet replied. “So, yes, I guess.”

“But what if we could use it to heighten athletes’ abilities? Push the bounds of the human physique even further?” the man pressed.

“Then I’m going to defer to the judgment of that dude in that dinosaur movie,” Violet quipped. “Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.”

Across the table, Lagertha coughed and it sounded suspiciously as though the word “hypocrite” was uttered under her breath. Violet ignored her and pretended to pick at the salad that sat in front of her.

“Are you so short-sighted?" the man asked, his dark eyes narrowing on her.

He was vaguely familiar but she couldn’t exactly place where she’d seen him before. He had dark eyes that missed nothing. He wanted nothing in the way of physical strength. He was obviously tall, possibly six feet three, maybe taller. He wore a custom-tailored suit jacket over a silk button down shirt and designer denim jeans. The sneakers he wore cost upwards of $300 a pair—she only knew that because Desmond had been eyeing a similar set for quite some time.

“No. I just believe that in this instance, more research and longer-term studies are needed to make a conclusion,” Violet retorted. “The body of evidence, at least what I’ve come across, is insufficient.”

“Hmm,” he said, leaning back in his chair as he seemed to earnestly consider what she’d said.

“Are you okay?” Taylor leaned close and whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” Violet quietly replied, gently patting her friend on the forearm.

“I must say, I have been quite intrigued with you,” one of the women spoke.

She wasn’t conventionally pretty but that in no way meant she was unattractive. Her nose was a little too big and her lips a little too thin but beyond that, she had high cheekbones and attentive dark brown eyes. Her ash blond hair was pulled back in an austere, side-parted bun that rested at the nape of her neck. She wore a sundress in a sky-blue color and white ballet flats on her feet.

“I’m not sure how I should take that,” Violet said, smiling tentatively.

“You came out of nowhere, put your brother on the map, added another title contender to the team, survived a murder attempt, overcame a crippling injury, and you’re quite publicly romancing one of the most eligible bachelors in the sport. When do you have time for sleep?”

Violet opened her mouth to speak, then almost immediately closed it again.

“Violet is a master multi-tasker,” Manuel cut in. “We’re lucky to have her.”

“Indeed you are, but I wonder if she might be looking for more of a challenge, now that she seems to have her footing again,” the woman continued.

“Greer, are you trying to steal my trainer?” Manuel laughed, astonished.

“If you aren’t paying her enough, that’s hardly my problem, now is it?” the woman, Greer, chortled.

“The balls on you,” Manuel replied, grinning.

“Well it’s only underhanded if I do it behind your back,” Greer giggled. “At least I respect you enough to do it right in front of your face.”

“I’m quite content where I am at the moment, but the offer is much appreciated,” Violet managed to stammer when Greer’s focus turned back to her.

Greer sighed theatrically and said, “If you change your mind, here’s my card. I run an all-women gym here in LA. We’ve got a couple local titles but we’re looking to go national within the next year or so. Do think about it.”

Violet gingerly accepted the business card Greer forcefully slid down the table to her. And thankfully, the attention went back to Manuel and Taylor’s wedding next month. Violet was grateful to be out of the hotseat.